Steele (turning away): Gud luck, son. Ye'll be needin' it, right enough.
Evans: Yeah...
He slowly marches to the centre.
Stewart, who was sitting on the hood of a car, arms folded, hops down and approaches as well: Ye actually turned up.
Evans (smirks): Well, duh. Can't kick your ass for the 3rd time if I don't.
Stewart (quietly): ... Ah'm gonnie enjoy this.
Holliday (stands between them): Gentlemen, save it until the bell rings. (into earpiece) Briar, do the thing.
Shamoon: They're really letting him do this?!
A.B.: You saw. Everyone tried talking him out of it. The boy has to learn.
Dominga (popcorn in hand): *crunch* *munch*
A.B.: What have I told you about chewing into your camera?
Dominga (swallows): Sorry.
Briar Lane (voice echoing through the speakers outside): The following is a HONIARA STREET FIGHT!
The crowd within the stadium, and the one forming outside it, all pop.
Briar Lane: And it is for the Psycho Style Wrestling Bloodbath Championship! In this match, there are no disqualifications. The only way to win is by pinfall or submission within the designated fight area! Please note that Psycho Style Wrestling and the Monday Night Madhouse will not be held liable for any injuries suffered by the competitors or onlookers during this contest.
Shamoon: The hell do you mean?!
Here that, the lookie-loos begin to disperse, though some stick around.
Briar Lane: Introducing first, the challenger, from Ayr, Scotland, standing 6 feet 3 and weighing in at 238 Pounds, ETHAN STEWART!
The crowd cheers as Stewart cracks his knuckles and his neck while maintaining eye contact with Evans.
Briar Lane: Introducing the champion, from Long Beach, California in the USA, standing 6 feet 2 and weighing in at 205 pounds, he is the inaugural Crimson King, ROGER EVANS!
The crowd is equally loud but less unified. Evans smirks again and raises Crimson high. He then hands it to Holliday, who holds it up for the cameras present. Another PA comes in to take it from her, before sprinting out.
Evans takes off his hat and shades and puts them on the hood of a yellow family wagon, then slowly removes his Hawaiian shirt, revealing the bandages around his ribs and back and his left shoulder. He lets out a couple of groans throughout the process and lets out a sigh before coming back to centre. Stewart throws off his vest.
Holliday (into earpiece): Ring the bell.
The familiar *ding* *ding* *ding* is heard on the speakers.
A.B.: And there we go. No turning back now.
Evans rushes at Stewart and leaps at him for a Flying Forearm, but the Scotsman sidesteps him. The youngin lands with a roll... or at least that was his intention.
A.B.: Evans hitting nothing but pavement!
Dominga: What was he thinking?! Oh right, he wasn't!
Evans writhes on the floor for a moment. Stewart stands over him, not moving an inch. Slowly, he begins to smile.
And then he kicks Evans in the ribs, making him scream. He kicks him again, and again, and again. He then switches from kicks to stomps, the smile giving way to white-hot, blinding rage. The crowd goes nuts.
A.B.: Stewart unleashing hell! That did not take long!
Dominga: It has taken long! Five weeks too long!
Shamoon: No! No! No!
Stewart: Come here, ya wee shite stain! (grabs Evans by the ears and forces him to his feet) Think ye're hot shite, eh? (headbutts him) Think this is a game? (knees him in the sternum) HUH?! (left hook, right cross, gut punch uppercut)
Evans falls back, spitting up blood and teeth, but Stewart grabs his arm to prevent him from hitting the ground, pulls him back up, grabs the back of his head and sends him ribs-first into the hood of an old orange sedan. Evans groans and again falls back, but Stewart grabs him and slams his face down on the hood.
Stewart (holding him by th hair): Thought I wisnae gonnae dae anythin'? Eh?! (slams his face again) Thought ye were goin' tae kick me in the stones an' I wisnae gonnae dae anythin'?! (two more slams) YOU REALLY THOCHT I WAS GOIN' TAE LET THAT SLIDE???!!!!!
He drags Evans away from the orange Sedan, all the way to the opposite side where a smaller red car is parked. Stewart then puts a hand under the younger man's armpit and throws him over the hood, into the windshield.
Shamoon: Oh NOOOOOO!!!!
Dominga: Aw man, it didn't break!
A.B.: Evans getting taken for a ride! And look at this!
Stewart positions Evans so that his head is hanging of the edge of the hood. He then climbs the hood of an adjacent green car.
Shamoon: Now, what's he doing?! AAAHHH!!!
A.B.: Stewart with the tip of his elbow to Evan's throat, my God!
Dominga: Don't say the Lord's name in vain, Alf. Especially when his work is being done!
Shamoon: YOU ARE SICK!
Evans starts to slide down the hood, wheezing while clutching his throat, but Stewart again stops him by grabbing the waistband of his pants. He unbuckles Evans' belt and pulls it off, before throwing him down to the asphalt onto his stomach.
Shamoon: Oh, come on. This isn't needed!
Stewart (folding the belt in half): One thing I cannae stand. Spoiled, cocky little c***s like you.
He brings the belt down on Evans' back with a *SNAP*
Evans: AAARRGGGH!!!
Stewart: Thinkin' there's nae consequences. *SNAP* Thinkin' ye get a wee wee cruise *SNAP* intae MY BUSINESS!
He brings the belt down again and again and again. Evans first tries to curl up, then tries to crawl under the car, but Stewart just drags him out and continues the assault.
Shamoon: Stop it! STOP!
A.B.: Stewart is whipping him like a dog literally in the street!
Dominga: Like the disrespectful punk he is! Come on! Give it to him! GIVE IT TO HIM!
A.B.: Look at the welts forming on Evans' back! And... And now he's choking him with the belt! STEWART IS STRANGLING EVANS WITH HIS OWN BELT!!!
Shamoon: STOP IT! STOP THE MATCH! JUST STOP THE MATCH!
Evans gargles and wriggles around, trying to grab the belt with one hand and clawing at the cracked road with the other as Stewart kneels on his back, cranking back.
Holliday: Evans! Evans, do you want to quit? Just tap the ground, and I'll call it. Evans?
The young man actually does slap the ground once, tears forming in his eyes.
Holliday: Two more times. Just two more times and I'll call for the bell. Come on!
Stewart: Ye heard the woman, boy! Tap oot! Tap oot, or Ah'll kill ye!
Evans' face goes from red to purple, tears forming in his eyes.
Stewart: AH'LL KILL YE RIGHT HERE IN FRONT O' ALL THESE PEOPLE! GIVE UP!
The boy raises his hand, slowly, shakily.
Holliday: Just tap out, son! Tap out!
Crowd: TAP! TAP! TAP!
Shamoon: JUST TAP OUT, ROGER! TAP OUT!
Evans' fingers curl and close, all but one, the middle one, with the back of his hand facing Stewart, which gets a slight pop.
A.B.: Evans remaining defiant! This stupid boy refuses to quit!
He begins to pass out, but the enraged Scotsman doesn't let him, unwrapping the belt and allowing him to breathe.
Shamoon: Oh, thank goodness. He let him go.
Dominga: You really are naive.
With Evans gasping on the ground, Stewart walks over to another, towards a white pickup on the left side of the road. This truck is not a junk vehicle. He picks up a brick and smashes the driver's side window and opens the door, sweeping out the glass.
Shamoon: Wha- What's he doing now?
A.B.: Stewart commandeering a pick-up truck! I-I don't know what he's looking-
Dominga: He's not looking for anything!
A.B.: Stewart in the driver's seat. Reaching down- I think he just ripped something- I- He's hotwiring it. Stewart is hotwiring the truck!
Shamoon: WHAT?!
A.B.: ETHAN STEWART IS HOTWIRING THAT WHITE PICKUP TRUCK!!
A.B.: ETHAN STEWART IS HOTWIRING THAT WHITE PICKUP TRUCK!!
Shamoon: WHY IS HE DOING THAT?!
Dominga: Why do you think?!
Holliday: Stewart?! STEWART, NO!
The engine of the truck roars to life and the crowd screams in horror. The Scotsman takes the wheel and 10-and-2. Evans, barely moving, blinks as the headlights wash over him.
Holliday: NO! This is too much! Come on! Get outta the truck!
Stewart (wide eyes): Oot the road, lassie!
Shamoon: He's bluffing! HE'S BLUFFING!
A.B.: I hope to God he is!
Dominga: I said it! I said it, episode 1! He made an enemy out of Ethan Stew-AAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
Shamoon: AAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
Crowd: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Crowd: AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Stewart (stepping on the gas): AAAAAAAAAAARRARARAARAARARAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Holliday has to jump out of the way as the truck shoots forward, with the Scottish man leaping out of the driver's seat and colliding with a blue junk car. The remaining onlookers outside the circle scream and scatter, some of the
A.B.: PER L'AMOR DI DIOOOOOOOOO!!!
Crowd: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!
A.B.: ETHAN STEWART IS A MANIAC! HE'S OUTTA CONTROL!
Shamoon: He really did it. He actually drove a truck at someone because he got kicked in the balls one time!
Dominga: Two times!
Shamoon: Are you seriously justifying vehicular homicide?
Dominga: I'm not justifying anything! This is what we should have expected! Evans was on borrowed time the moment he did that shit!
A.B.: Can- Can we get some kind of eyes on Evans? What's his status? Is he alive?
Dominga: If he's not, keep the cameras off him! We don't need to see roadkill in 4k. Just end the whole thing.
The crowd suddenly pops as the feed switches.
A.B.: I- I can't believe it! Evans is alive! Roger Evans is alive! He dodged the truck! He got out of the way, thank God!
Shamoon: That was insanely lucky. Just call the match! CALL IT NOW!
Dominga: Stewart's back up! He is coming 'round for more!
The Deputy Head Referee blocks the Scotsman's match, and she is irate.
Holliday: ARE YOU CRAZY?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!
Stewart (tries going past): Oot the way.
Holliday (blocks him again): You could have killed him! You could have killed ME! You could have killed SOMEONE!
Stewart (pushes her): That's the rules; get the f*** oot o' my way!
Holliday (grabs him): This is beyond the pale. He's just a kid, dammit! Just beat him! Put him away and be done with-
Stewart: GET OOT-
A.B.: EVANS JUST THREW A TRAFFIC CONE! STEWART BARELY GETTING HIS ARMS UP IN TIME AND IT STILL KNOCKED HIM DOWN!
Dominga: He almost hit Holliday, the clown!
Holliday: What the hell?!
The rookie champ, battered and bloodied, limps over, picks up the cone and brings it down on Stewart yet again. He then sees his discarded pants belt and goes to pick it up, wrapping it around his hand with the buckle on the outside. He then picks up both of Stewart's ankles, opens his legs and stomps on his balls.
A.B.: Evans going low!
Dominga: Again?!
Stewart groans and curls up. Evans looks around, finds his discarded pants belt and goes for it. He picks it up by the buckle on the outside before going back to Stewart.
Evans (spits): Hey, you Scottish piece of shit (mounts him and grabs his hair), THIS is how you're supposed to use the belt!
A.B.: EVANS STABBING THE BELT BUCKLE INTO STEWART'S FACE! Over and over! HE IS CARVING THE SCOTSMAN OPEN!
Dominga: ¡Dios mío!
A.B.: This is what we've seen over the last 5 weeks! When this boy is pushed, he has a mean streak a mile wide!
Shamoon: He is NOT a BOY! He is a young man standing up for himself! That's ALL he's been doing!
Dominga: That's bs and you know it!
Shamoon: What has he done to justify the hate he's gotten? Tell me, what?! Because he didn't "pay his dues"? What dues? This company is 3 months old! Everyone who got here was chosen!
Dominga: Except he wasn't!
Evans discards the blood-soaked belt and picks up the cone again, only to set it down.
Dominga: Everyone who got a title match at Ascension was somebody who was either drafted to show or won a No. 1 contender's match! Evans got put in that cage at the last minute because Tonye Carrera is friends with Sanka Williams.
Shamoon: So is Paul Grizzly, but I didn't hear you complaining when he waltzed in and took the World Dominion Championship! I mean, for goodness sake, our Jewell's Champion is Sara Williams' fourth cousin.
A.B.: You leave Ngozi out of this!
Shamoon: I will not! I'm sick of the damn hypocrisy!
A.B.: What hypocrisy?!- Evans now with Stewart on his feet. Back Suplex position- OH! Picking Stewart up and dropping him tailbone-first on the traffic cone! That is nasty!
Stewart bounces around, clutching his butt before Evans clocks him from behind with a clothesline. He then grabs the Scotsman by the hair and forces him back up, dragging him over to the yellow family wagon where the Californian's shirt, hat and glasses are, and slamming his face on it.
A.B.: Evans in control. He's got the shirt. He's wrapping it out Stewart's!
Dominga: He's strangling Stewart!
Shamoon: Taste of his own medicine!
A.B.: Evans is choking the life out of Ethan Stewart with the Hawaiian shirt!
Evans: How's that, huh? How do you like it? HOW DO YOU LIKE IT?!
Holliday: Stewart? Stewart, do you wanna quit? Do you wanna-
Stewart claws at her, and Evans slams his head down on the hood of the wagon again, and again and again until the Scot slumps to the ground.
Evans: How do you like it?! (looks up) How do you like it?! (turns away, spreading his arms for the crowd of onlookers) How do you like me now? How do you like me now, Honiara?! I'm Crimson King! The Bloodbath Champion! The spirit of Psycho Style is alive in ME!
He gets several cheers and several boos.
A.B.: That, Aazif. That has always been MY problem. Not his relationships. Not how he got here. His attitude! He has not earned this level of arrogance!
Shamoon: NO ONE has ever earned ANY level of arrogance, and yet wrestlers across the board are FULL OF IT! Why's he the one you guys pick on?! Why? Give me a reason!
Evans (turns back to his opponent): Get up, Stewart! Get up, you piece of crap! You piece of Scottish street trash! Come on! Get up, you b****! I SAID GET YOUR ASS UP!!!
Stewart, his face cut up and bruised and red from asphyxiation, slowly rises, shaking his head and pulling the shirt off his neck. Evans lets out a battle cry and charges sideways.
A.B.: Evans going for a Superkick- No! Stewart caught him! Stewart caught his foot!
Dominga: That's why, Aaz! Because he's an idiot!
A.B.: And now Stewart with a low blow of his own.
Dominga: Payback's a b****!
Evans collapses, screaming with his hands between his thighs. Stewart grabs him, forces him up and throws him onto the hood of the family wagon. He then climbs onto the hood and pulls Evans up to his feet yet again for a Front Facelock.
Shamoon: Oh no. No! NO!
Dominga: Oh yes. Yes! YES!
Stewart grabs both Evans' arms for his signature Double Underhook DDT. They are standing directly over the car's windscreen. One that will soon explode.
Shamoon: NOOOOO!!!!
A.B.: STEAK KNIFE! Stewart with the Steak Knife! Driving Evans head-first through that car's windshield! Please, God, let it be over!
A.B.: STEAK KNIFE! Stewart with the Steak Knife! Driving Evans head-first through that car's windshield! Please, God, let it be over!
Stewart shoves Evans off him and down to the ground. The young man's face is a mask of crimson and glass, which the Scotsman spits on as he plants a foot on his chest.
Holliday: 1! 2! 3! (into earpiece) Ring the bell! Ring the bell and get some medics out here now!
The bell blasts through the speakers, followed by the heavy metal theme of the new champion. The crowd, which had been previously unified in their support for Stewart, are now split.
Briar Lane: Here is your winner, and NEEEEEWWWW Bloodbath Champion, ETHAAAN STEEWAAAAAARRRTTTTT!!!!
Dominga: It IS over! The nightmare is over!
Shamoon: He didn't- He didn't need to do that! Evans didn't deserve that!
A.B.: I'll choose to be fair here. No, he did not, but it was either the car or the concrete. He had no chance.
Dominga: Could have just handed over the belt, but no, he had to "prove himself". "The spirit of Psycho Style lives on in me" What a moron! The Bloodbath division finally has a Champion it can be proud of, and his name is Ethan Stewart!
Stewart steps off of Evans, allowing Holliday to check on the latter.
Holliday: Evans! Kid, can you hear me? (into earpiece) Where are those medics?
The PA from earlier re-enters the circle to present him with Crimson, but Scotsman turns away from her.
A.B.: What's this now?
Stewart approaches the wrecked white pickup truck and reaches into the bed.
A.B.: Stew- STEWART'S GOT A CROWBAR!
Shamoon: He's got a WHAT?!
A.B.: He just pulled a crowbar out of that destroyed truck!
Dominga: Why was that even in there?
A.B.: He must have planted it earlier, but what is he planning to do?
Stewart walks past the truck and the blue car it crashed into towards the sidewalk on the right side of the road.
A.B.: That's a manhole cover. Stewart is- He's using the crowbar to open a manhole cover! Don't tell me-
Shamoon: No, you can't do this! Somebody stop this! Security, do something!
Security tries to do something, but he waves them off with the crowbar every time they get close to him. He then walks back to Holliday and the comatose Californian.
Holliday: Hey, no! It's over! Take the belt and leave! Sto-
Stewart piefaces her out of his way, grabs Evans' ankle and begins to drag him toward the manhole.
Dominga: He's just- He's just-
Shamoon: HE'S JUST WHAT?!
A.B.: Evans has open wounds all over his body! Somebody stop Stewart!
The boos slowly overwhelm the cheers.
Security rushes in this time, and the Scot beats them all down with the crowbar. He then grabs Evans again and drags more ferociously toward the manhole, now pulling his face over the hole.
Dominga: Okay, hold on. Whoa whoa whoa! This is too far!
Shamoon: NOW IT'S TOO FAR?!
Dominga: I just wanted Evans humbled. He's been humbled. Let him go!
A.B.: STOP HIM! STOP IT! DON'T DO THIS!
Stewart (holding Evans by the hair): This is where ye belong. Doon in the guts wi' the rest o' the shite!
More refs, guards and production staff rush out, led by Chief Steele, Dr Sharma and Nalah Shabani.
Steele: Stewart, stop!
Shabani: THAT'S ENOUGH!
Sharma: DON'T DO IT!
Stewart shoves Evans' face down into the sewers of Honiara. Everyone freezes. The arena goes silent. The music stops. A splash is picked up by the camera
The Scotsman shoves past the lot and grabs his newly-won Bloodbath Championship belt from the frightened PA, before storming off down King George Street, holding it high as the Monday Night Madhouse comes to a close.
Your new Crimson King.
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