6CWF Presents UNLEASHED II - Sunday 29th 2024 (Episode 41)

The scene begins with the camera focused on an empty pew in a dimly lit church. The soft strains of an organ fill the air, creating a sombre atmosphere. The signature ‘clack clack clack’ of dress shoes on the stone floor echoes through the silent sanctuary, growing louder as they approach. A figure enters the frame—Acer—dressed sharply in a blue three-piece suit, his every movement deliberate. As he reaches the pew, he pauses briefly before sitting down. The microphone picks up his low murmur: "When you go to church, you've got to wear your Sunday best."

Acer adjusts his tie and then, without hesitation, turns to face the camera, his gaze intense.

"I know the world wants to know why I attacked JJ. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about. Today, I want to address my opponent at ‘Unleashed II’."

He spreads his arms wide, gesturing to the grand yet humble surroundings. "Here I am, in a House of God, and I’m asking you, Saint, to hear my confession."

He leans forward, voice lowering as if he’s sharing a secret. "I confess that this feud between JJ and me... has nothing to do with you."

Acer pauses, the weight of his words settling in before he continues, his tone now sharper, more pointed. "But let’s not pretend you’re innocent in all this. You were there, Saint, when JJ stood at the post-show presser, claiming it was just him and you who defeated Exodus. And you said nothing. You stood by silently while he took all the credit, knowing full well I was in that same locker room.

And you didn’t stop him, Saint. Not when he pranced around with the TAW Championship, not when he commissioned reprints of the 'original' Coalition—bringing back a ghost from 15 years ago. You didn’t stop him when he rewrote history with you by his side, and when I needed you at ‘Scars and Stripes’, where were you? Out celebrating with JJ instead of standing by me."

Acer’s voice hardens, his expression growing colder. "But the worst part? You thought throwing me a party for getting a title shot was a good idea. Who throws a party for just an opportunity? Is that what you think of me? A guy who gets close but never quite makes it? Is that my ceiling to you, Saint? Close, but never champion?"

He shakes his head, the bitterness clear in his voice. "You stood by while JJ stabbed me in the back, time and time again. And when I finally had enough—when I finally decided to fight back—you pointed the finger at ME! 'It’s your fault, Acer.' How is it my fault Christy got hurt, when she shouldn’t have been at ringside in the first place? How is it my fault this so-called 'family' is crumbling when I didn’t tear it apart? And how in the hell is it my fault that you and JJ lost the Tag Team Titles to Logan and Dragon when I wasn’t even involved?"

He pauses, letting the questions hang in the air like accusations. "You blame me for everything, Saint. You stand with JJ and Christy, outnumbering me three to one." Acer reaches down and picks up an object, still out of the camera’s view. His eyes flicker as he examines it for a brief moment before looking back into the lens.

"There’s a thing about Hollywood, you know? The bad guys always have the numbers. Three to one, four to one—heck, sometimes ten to one. But that’s the thing, Saint. I’m not the bad guy here. Not yet, anyway. You might have the numbers, but that doesn’t make you right."

A cold, determined smile creeps onto Acer’s face. "Next week, you and me at ‘Unleashed II’. I don’t want to hurt you, Saint, but that doesn’t mean I won’t. I will be a World Champion soon, and if that means going through you to get there, well... defeating a multi-time champ like you will look pretty damn good on the CV."

With that, Acer stands up, straightening his jacket. As he walks away, the camera catches a fleeting glimpse of the object in his hand—what appears to be a large worn piece of hessian fabric. The soft ‘clack clack clack’of his shoes grows fainter as he disappears into the shadows, leaving the church in silence. The camera lingers for a moment before fading to black.

"Its a Long Way to the Top" by AC/DC plays as Uryu walks out bruised but determined, Uryu quickly rolls into the ring and is handed a mic as he stares towards the ramp and stage as the music cuts.

UI: For all my years that I have been here I have discovered myself through my own mistakes. From the very first day I showed up in 6WF, Came face to face with JJ Johnson and dared him to make a triple threat he was involved in into a fatal four way elimination match just to prove how good I was. From joining Project X and Max Adamson, Marlon and Clarissa helping me win my first ever championship. The 6WF European Championship.

Uryu hears a small "Project X!" chant building and raises his arms in an X as the crowd cheer.

UI: Yeah I lost the title a month later, Max eventually pummeled me and kept beating me down over and over. Taking Clarissa from me...

Uryu hears a few boos and he sighs with a hint of regret.

UI: Hey, I was young and stupid back then. I don't think it would have worked out thinking back on it but she doesn't deserve boos now. The point is Project X made me better and helped me discover more of myself.
Yet back then I was still pretty stupid. I took on the biggest dog at the time and he rightly killed me. I challenged Cassius Zhi and I discovered even I have limits. He took me to somewhere even I thought didn't exist within myself and he kept me there. I broke out and challenged him one more time and even though I lost once I got backstage on the medical trolley I heard a few of the guys applaud my efforts. I was a stupid SOB but I was a tough SOB.

Uryu hears a few "Zhi!" chants and chuckles.

UI: Wonder if the result would be the same today though... but fast forward a few years my toughness was tested again and again by 6WE Adventure, Ethan Shaw and Engel Harlequin. Then Covid tested my patience. And... I failed. I made a mistake and you all know what I mean. I took a friendship and thought it went deeper than that.

Uryu goes quiet and sighs sadly into the mic. His voice a little regretful and sombre as he leans on the ropes.

UI: The point is every single time I came across an opponent, A challenge, A mistake...I treated it with respect. I owned up to my mistakes and some...I still regret. Some people say that I didn't do it right or I didn't try hard enough whilst knowing full well every single time I enter this ring I give my absolute best! Every action I take always made me respect them or the choice on some level. With Max I respected his in ring skill and he taught me things I don't think anyone else could! With Cassius I learned that respect in the ring isn't earned purely through winning but by throwing my heart and my brains and my balls into every single match I had. With Christy...I learned how respect and honesty can blind even the best of us with good intentions.

Uryu shakes his head and looks back up to the stage.

UI: Chris Patricks however...seems to have a problem with my respect! It could be the fact that I respect everyone in their own ways, some for being good people and others for their ring skill. I only retaliate when it is slapped back in my face like he chose to do! I came up to him in the ring before Beachfront Brawl with respect. I respected him as a person and his in ring skill. I admit his tag partner had a lot less of my respect and I told him that to his face and if he had a problem with that he could find me. I thought Chris, A respected veteran in my head, A former champion would understand my words but I just get a tirade in my face about a partner who turns out trusted me completely as I trust him now to kick Plagues ass!

Uryu hears a "Gazzy!" chant break out and smiles.

UI: Sadly this is not about him but if he needs my help and I'm not in a hospital or something I'm there. Let me be blunt, Chris if you wanna tell me to my face why you don't like me I am right here! If anyone else has an issue with me right now then I'm not hard to find!

Uryu stands in the middle of the ring and waits with his arms wide.

*We open up the scene in a well furnished Italian restaurant. There are waiters milling around serving customers, carrying food and there seems to be an exceptionally friendly atmosphere. Suddenly there is a loud clatter of plates smashing.

"The f*** you mean we're out of Cannoli?

*The servers have stopped and the atmosphere becomes tense as all eyes turn to the swinging doors into the kitchen.

"Every f***ing week, I come in here and you numbskull f***s have forgotten something..

*Suddenly Antonio Moncinelli walks out into the dining area and he looks around and the, now, silent room.

AM: There a problem?

*Now everyone is back talking and looking at their food. Nobody wants to make eye contact with Tony Monk. He approaches the cash register now and the lady behind it.

AM: Susan, honey...tell me something good....

*Susan is quite clearly Italian/American old school. She is in her 60s.

Susan: What you want me to tell you, Tony?

AM: That I'm making money, doll, what else....

Susan: You're making a hell of racket back there....everyone listening out here...

*Monk's face reddens slightly, as though being reprimanded by his mother

AM: They forgot the Cannoli....and now I gotta get Buddy on the phone, see if he can't fix us up....and you know that Cake Boss pr1ck gone laud that over me at the next get together...

Susan: They're human, Tony...this place is packed, the food is great....and you're worried about a Cannoli...have you been to your shrink today?

*Monk suddenly looks concerned that someone might be listening

AM: Lower your motherf***ing voice...

Susan: Oh Antonio....

AM: Don't call me that...

Susan: I refuse to call you any of those other ridiculous names....you might be "The Boss" but you're still little Antonio Moncinelli to me, the same little boy riding his bike outside my house for four hours a day waiting for my daughter to notice you...

AM: And she never did....

Susan: Oh she noticed....we all notice you, Antonio...

AM: How you doin'?

Susan: But that charm won't work here.....and nor did it with her because of everything else...

AM: Like what?

Susan: You know what...

AM: I'm a made man, not for nothing....this is the life...

Susan: And she didn't want it....even if she loved you...

*Tony Monk looks torn between anger and upset now

AM: I gotta step outside.....those f***ing pri1cks back there cutting the onions...

*Susan waves her hand dismissively with a smile, she has spent years playing along that Tony Monk has no emotion. The scene follows him outside as he stares up at the starry sky. A kid rides past on a bike and almost bumps him.

AM: HEY KID....AM I F***ING INVISIBLE OR SOMETHING?

*The kid doesn't even look back.

AM: Little c*** sucker....

*Monk's phone starts to ring and he takes the call

AM: Yeah, hello......I wondered when you'd be calling me back.....look you don't need to tell me that Tony Monk was a motherf***ing success....

*Monk's brow furrows

AM: The f*** you mean, lowest rated segment of the night? You got these little pri1cks like Uryu Ishida and Eddy Kent on the show and you're telling me that Bob Monkhouse was tanking on the ratings? You outta your motherf***ing mind, not for nothing....

Listen here you little f***....you get JJ on the phone, get Jay and you tell him Tony Monk here to discuss little a55clowns like you ringing me up talking s***....lowest rating my a55...

Now I'm bringing MonkMania to Manchester, next week...how you doin'? And I tell you what, you better not be there or let me catch you anywhere near my vicinity....capiche? Because I will take your f***ing face off like John Travolta....do you f***ing understand me....

I suggest you be Gone in 60 Seconds like Nick Cage you weasely little f*** now hang up this motherf***ing phone before I say something I regret..

*The phone call ends as Monk turns around and he headbutts the sign outside his restaurant as the customers inside watch him. He drags it up off the floor and slams it across one of the bench tables outside before he climbs up on the bench now and drops a leg across the sign.

"HOW YOU DOIN'?"

*We see Susan, the manager, watching and shaking her head from inside whilst some of the shop owners from across the street are smiling and we hear someone say "It's just Tone, nothing to worry about". The owner of the shop next door is watering his hanging baskets from a ladder as Tony rolls off the table now and charges through the ladder, sending the old man crashing on the pavement. He looks up at Monk in surprise. Monk helps him up...

AM: Sorry about that Sammy...

Sammy: Don't worry, Tony...

*Monk's eyes widen

AM: The f*** you mean, don't worry? So I gotta be worried all of a sudden? Worried about you?

*Monk puts the headbutt on the man before throwing him on top of the bench. He scales the ladder before throwing himself off with splash that crushes himself and the owner from next door through the bench

AM: TONY F***ING MONK, HOW YOU DOIN'?

Tell me don't be worried....you all should be worried....OPPORTUNITY KNOCKS, F***ER AND IF YOU DON'T ANSWER BOB MONKHOUSE GONE COME THROUGH THE BACK INSTEAD....NOT FOR NOTHING!

*Tony Monk stands and dusts off his designer suit. He looks through the window of his restaurant now and bangs his hand on the window at everyone watching, the kitchen staff having come out during the commotion.

AM: Order the f***ing Cannoli!!!

The Co-op Arena is looking resplendent as the set is in place for Unleashed II. The crew are putting the finishing touches to bits and pieces. The camera moves to the ring and The Saint is shown, stood in the centre, taking it all in.

The Mancunian looks at ease in his hometown and he smiles up at the set.

TS: VIP Promotions and Amazon must have been going two's on a pipe when they decided to bring this bad boy back!

The legend starts to laugh to himself, when his phone rings. He retrieves it from his pocket and answers.

TS: Brandi! How's the ankle?

...

I'm glad there's no proper damage. How did J take it?

...

Yeah, I can imagine he's pretty p*ssed off about it. Just tell him I'll sort it, ok?

...

Of course I don't want to do it but someone needs to knock some sense into Acer and I'd rather it be me than JJ for now. It's still salvageable...

The Saint's face hardens as he's listening to Brandi.

TS: He was in a church? He said what?! Thanks for letting me know... I'll check it out now.

The Saint hangs up and watches Acer's address from the church and during the playing of it, he looks conflicted, torn between his loyalty and his primal instinct for violence.

He looks at the cameraman capturing the footage.

TS: Now listen, Stu, it is Stu isn't it?

Cameraman: It's Nigel.

TS: I haven't got the time for your back chat Stu. I need you to record this and I need you to do it now, ok?

The cameraman nods and gives The Saint a nod to let him know it's recording. The Saint's demeanour changes as he addresses the camera.

TS: Acer... You know where I am.

I've seen what you've had to say.

I think it's high time we had a chat face to face, don't you? No crowds, no flash bulbs. Just you, me and Stu here.

It'd be easy to do this whole back and forth thing over camera but I have far too much love and respect for you. It needs to be in the flesh. I want to look into your eyes when I say what I need to say to you.

It's only right.

I know there's a lot going on in your head at the moment but I want to help you. Whatever you think you've seen or heard is exactly that, a thought.

This situation can still be rescued. We can still put it right. But you've got to climb down from that soap box of yours and meet me in the middle.

It's the only way.

And if you had a semblance of common sense remaining, all you'd do is come and talk with me.

It's on you. I'm not going anywhere.

The Saint leans against the ropes and waits as the camera zooms out and shows the empty, cavernous Coop Live Arena.

'Broken Dreams' hits and the boos begin to start from the fans as Daniel Reilly and Oliver Keane come strolling out from the back. Reilly wears the EWF Championship over his shoulder which he slips off and raises into the air before he and Keane make their way to the ring. The commentators discuss the events from last week and the news that Oliver Keane is banned from ringside during Daniel Reilly's matches moving forward and the fact Reilly needs to defend his Title against five randomised stars this week. Both men are in the ring as Keane passes Reilly a microphone and the music fades as Reilly takes a second before forcing a smile and pacing across the ring.

DR: Ladies and Gentlemen, the King has a whole lot of things he wants to get off his chest this week!

The boos grow once more as Reilly continues to pace around the ring, adjusting the Title on his shoulder.

DR: Now it seems there is only one logical place to start. Last week, Damien Andrews and Max Adamson informed the King that Oliver Keane is not allowed ringside for any of the King's matches moving forward.

Huge cheers from the fans as Keane shoots a frown out to some fans near the front.

DR: Cheer all you want because it is you lot who are missing out on seeing the greatest duo this business has ever produced! And then it is announced that Daniel Reilly will defend his EWF Global Championship against five other men this week in an obvious attempt to take this Championship away from the King. And let's not all pretend we don't know the reason this is happening, them two idiots made reference to it last week but they have finally realised that the King is not bluffing and come November, he is out them doors! The King guesses that when he announced he would be leaving, they felt they had enough time to resolve things. But now them clock hands are moving just a little too fast and months are becoming days and now they are panicking because they know that the best wrestler they have is walking out them doors with one of their World Championships in his possession! But seems as you have played this off as punishment for the King cheating to win the EWF Championship, then the King expects a statement from the pair of you detailing the punishment Liam Wood will endure for cheating against Rex Adamson last week. Because that is how it works right? You can't punish one person and then reward another with a World Title shot. And you wonder why the King is leaving.

But Max, Damien, you have both let this power go to your head and you have become blinded by the authority. You two really think your position puts you above Daniel Reilly? You really believe that your management status puts you in control of the King? Well you two idiots would be mistaken, go check the history books, boys! Go ask Drake, ask John Liederman, ask good old JJ Johnson, matter of fact, you can even ask the King's good friend Oliver Keane! The King has gone head to head with every General Manager this Company has ever produced, and each and every single one of them have fell at the feet of Daniel Reilly when they realise that the King is just not the same as everybody else back in that locker room. You do not get to control Daniel Reilly, it is Daniel Reilly who runs things around here and the sooner you pair realise, the easier it will get for you both! If you truly believe you can use your power to stop the King walking out them doors, then unfortunately you are not just lying to yourself, but you are lying to these so called fans! But whilst the King is talking about liars, how about the King moves this conversation onto Geoff Steel?

Huge cheers from the fans as they start up a 'Geoff Steel' chant as Reilly looks out at the cheering fans with an amused look on his face.

DR: Good old Geoff Steel. You see, he is the biggest liar in this Company! What was it he was saying last week? The King recalls him talking about how this time was going to be different, this time he was finally going to beat Daniel Reilly, how he had changed and he was going to show that he could get the job done! Well Geoffrey, the results determine that you lied. And sure Geoff, you will say that putting the King through a table was a win in itself but the reality is that for the fourth time in a row, there is an L next to your name and a big W next to Daniel Reilly's name! See, everyone likes to complain and say that Daniel Reilly talks a whole lot of rubbish but the reality is that the King does not lie! The King told you last week that without weapons, you are nothing! Geoff, you only looked dangerous when a table was involved, and that is why you are the face of a pointless division that nobody even cares about and why Daniel Reilly is walking around as a Champion of the World!

Now is GazzyD here? Can he hear the King?

Reilly is looking around as the fans cheer at the mention of GazzyD's name.

DR: Gazzy, it has been a while hasn't it? Now it sure was a rough week for Gazzy last week wasn't it? Not only is he being haunted by Halloween cosplayers, he lost his match to Revolution and then got himself attacked in the back! Now Gazzy, it is nothing personal but you have known the King long enough to know that if you stick your nose where it doesn't belong, then the King will punish you! And believe the King when he tells you that if you decide to take this personally, then Edward Plague will be the least of your worries!

Reilly smirks as he continues to pace the ring.

DR: The King has got to say he was impressed last week though! He heard Mike Masters come out here and deal out some home truths and how refreshing it is to see somebody who actually sees what is going on around here! The favourites are at the top and everybody else? Well that get given the scraps on the card! You see, Daniel Reilly was not meant to be a World Champion again, JJ Johnson was trying to hold the King back but the King forced his way to the top of the card! But Mike Masters? Well the King has a feeling he won't be around long enough to drag himself to the top because nothing around here will ever change and the King will hold the doors open upon his exit for Mike Masters to leave and finally go somewhere he is appreciated!

And finally, let's talk about everyone's beloved Irish....

Reilly stops himself and smirks.

DR: Actually, the King thinks that may be it, the King can not think of anybody else of any relevance to the King.

Reilly smirks and shrugs his shoulders as the fans around boo.

DP wrote:The Co-op Arena is looking resplendent as the set is in place for Unleashed II. The crew are putting the finishing touches to bits and pieces. The camera moves to the ring and The Saint is shown, stood in the centre, taking it all in.

The Mancunian looks at ease in his hometown and he smiles up at the set.

TS: VIP Promotions and Amazon must have been going two's on a pipe when they decided to bring this bad boy back!

The legend starts to laugh to himself, when his phone rings. He retrieves it from his pocket and answers.

TS: Brandi! How's the ankle?

...

I'm glad there's no proper damage. How did J take it?

...

Yeah, I can imagine he's pretty p*ssed off about it. Just tell him I'll sort it, ok?

...

Of course I don't want to do it but someone needs to knock some sense into Acer and I'd rather it be me than JJ for now. It's still salvageable...

The Saint's face hardens as he's listening to Brandi.

TS: He was in a church? He said what?! Thanks for letting me know... I'll check it out now.

The Saint hangs up and watches Acer's address from the church and during the playing of it, he looks conflicted, torn between his loyalty and his primal instinct for violence.

He looks at the cameraman capturing the footage.

TS: Now listen, Stu, it is Stu isn't it?

Cameraman: It's Nigel.

TS: I haven't got the time for your back chat Stu. I need you to record this and I need you to do it now, ok?

The cameraman nods and gives The Saint a nod to let him know it's recording. The Saint's demeanour changes as he addresses the camera.

TS: Acer... You know where I am.

I've seen what you've had to say.

I think it's high time we had a chat face to face, don't you? No crowds, no flash bulbs. Just you, me and Stu here.

It'd be easy to do this whole back and forth thing over camera but I have far too much love and respect for you. It needs to be in the flesh. I want to look into your eyes when I say what I need to say to you.

It's only right.

I know there's a lot going on in your head at the moment but I want to help you. Whatever you think you've seen or heard is exactly that, a thought.

This situation can still be rescued. We can still put it right. But you've got to climb down from that soap box of yours and meet me in the middle.

It's the only way.

And if you had a semblance of common sense remaining, all you'd do is come and talk with me.

It's on you. I'm not going anywhere.

The Saint leans against the ropes and waits as the camera zooms out and shows the empty, cavernous Coop Live Arena.

A considerable amount of time has passed since Saint entered the Co-op Arena. The scattered remnants of a Deliveroo order litter the ring apron—crumpled bags, half-eaten food, and tipped-over drink. In the corner of the ring, Saint sits, bathed in the pale glow of his phone screen, scrolling aimlessly. The arena is silent, as the set-up crew have finished for the day.

Suddenly, the stillness is broken by a voice, distant at first but quickly gaining clarity as it reverberates through the empty arena. It’s a calm, measured tone, yet it carries undeniable weight. "You wanted to see me?"

Saint’s head snaps up, eyes scanning the empty rows of seats before settling on the figure slowly making his way down the steps from the concourse. Acer. His silhouette is framed by the dim lights, every footstep deliberate, as if each movement carries the weight of a thousand thoughts. He steps through a gap in the guard rail with ease, his pace unhurried but purposeful. Without breaking stride, Acer ascends the ring steps and ducks between the ropes, entering the ring.

Acer’s eyes don’t meet Saint’s right away. Instead, his gaze is distant, unfocused, fixed on something far beyond the arena’s walls. A thousand-yard stare, haunted by the gravity of what he’s about to say. His brow furrows slightly, as if he's sorting through a tangled web of emotions. Finally, after a long pause, he shifts his focus to Saint, his expression hard yet tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m not here to fight you, Saint,” Acer begins, his voice low but firm. “In fact, I don’t want to fight you at all. But it seems like someone—whether it’s you or someone else—wants to see me do just that. The reason I’m here, though, is out of respect. Respect for you.”

A brief silence hangs between them, heavy and loaded. Acer takes a breath, as though preparing himself for the reaction to what comes next. “I can empathise with the position you’re in. You’re caught in the crossfire, stuck between two men. One has spent every waking moment provoking, needling, pushing the other to the brink, through his words and actions. And the other... well, he’s finally standing up for himself. But if you truly wanted to fix this mess, Saint, you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’d be face-to-face with JJ, holding him accountable.”

Saint’s expression remains neutral, but there's a flicker in his eyes—is that a small sign that Acer’s words might be hitting close to home? Acer steps closer, his tone softening slightly, though his intensity never wavers.

“I want you to know," Acer continues, "that I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this. What happened at Beachfront Brawl, costing you your shot at regaining the Tag Team Championships... that was never my intention. You weren’t the target. You just... ended up in the crossfire, collateral damage in a war you didn’t ask for."

He pauses again, weighing his next words carefully. "But JJ? Taking him out? That was justified. I don’t expect you to understand, not fully, not yet. But I hope you can at least see that I’m not the villain in this. I’m just as much a victim as you are, Saint. Maybe more.”

The tension in the air is palpable. Acer’s gaze, now fixed firmly on Saint, speaks volumes—regret, frustration, defiance. Everything hangs on what happens next, but for now, although the arena is empty, the viewers at home hold their collective breath, waiting for Saints response.

The scene begins and we appear at the 6CWF developmental centre, the room is set up with a large rings at it centre and various gym equipment around the outsides. A selection of up and coming talents can be seen being run through drills. Tim Allen is also present with a camera crew filming the recruits.
Cheers and gasps of surprise can be heard from across the venue, Tim and the crew move on from their current assignment to investigate the commotion.
As we get nearer we see a crowd of young stars gathered around a squat rack, using the machine is Geoff Steel, he is in training attire of red shorts and a black property of 6CWF t-shirt, he pumps out another clean squat to further applause.

??: 450kg and he still looks to have plenty left in the tank, that’s just insane he’s nearing in on the record.

Steel then steps out of the squat rack to boos from those gathered for not attempting a heavier weight. He laughs and holds his hands up in apology before heading over to where Tim is lurking.

GS: Busy day in here Tim, so much talent and potential on display, you here looking to find the next big prospect?

TA: Always worth keeping a lookout for a future world champion, you never know where they will be discovered. What brings Geoff Steel to the performance centre today?

GS: I needed the workout Tim and to blow off some steam, it’s useful at times to train with others for added motivation, plus seeing how hungry these upstarts are is a great reminder to myself that if you let your performance drop, there’s always a replacement coming off the production line.
I may also play nice whilst I’m here but there’s no harm showing the recruits the levels they need to achieve to be a success in this company, if it turns out to out the only lesson they take away is not to mess with Geoff Steel, then it’s one less pain in the rear end I’ll have to deal with in the future. There’s enough members of the roster already vying to occupy that position, chief among them Daniel Reilly.

TA: The two of you seem unable to co-exist and another clash in the not so distant future appears inevitable, it’s clear you dislike each other, yet neither of you can keep your distance, why is that?

Geoff looks and Tim and sighs.

GS: Long answer or short answer.

TA: let’s start with the short.

GS: He’s a massive b3llend.

TA: Excellent, and the long answer?

GS: The man has no integrity, he cheats, he’s a bully, self absorbed, plays the victim, so on and so on. I’ll admit I have flaws of my own I can be as stubborn as they come, which means I just won’t let him get away with the way he behaves, not on my watch.
I’d hoped full sending him through the announce table last week, would have atleast deterred him from any further outbursts in the short term, then not even fifteen minutes later he attempted to blindside Gazzy. There’s no hope for him he’s feral, were he an animal he’d be caught and neutered or humanely disposed of, both those measures seem extreme even for me, yet also too kind. He can’t be allowed to act the way he does for much longer either those in control do something about him or the methods I take in dealing with him will have to escalate.

TA: There’s a chance you may share the ring again at the Unleashed II special, have you given that any consideration?

GS: I could also be facing Blue Dragon or having to defend my title at short notice against a completely random opponent in a match type chosen by the spin of a wheel.
There’s no use planning for an outcome that might never materialise, it’s all upto fate Tim what will be will be, the futures not ours to see.
The advantage I need to make count is that of which I’ve shown in each of my Xtreme championship defences, the ability to embrace the chaos and be equally as unpredictable as the night will prove to be.

TA: Thanks for your time Geoff, I’ll let you get back to it.

Steel shakes Tims hand then makes his way over to one of the rings and watches the ongoing session in progress at the scene ends.

[6CWF Proving grounds is buzzing from the words of Liam Wood as camera pans around and shows a stacked Co-Op live arena, live in Manchester. The fans are hyped and excited for the show to come, with the unleashed concept adding mysterty and chaos, with also the clash for the 6WF undisputed world heavyweight championship between Liam Wood and Eddy Kent. Numb screeches out with ferocity over the soundwaves inside the Co-Op arena as the fans rise to their feet in respect and heat at the incoming arrival of Genesis. Three figures walk into shot as the camera races up the ramp as the fans let their voices be heard at Genesis. Flanked by the rottweiler of Genesis, Michael Sweetwater and Genesis awakening host and propagandaist, Miss Jessica, 6WF undisputed world heavyweight champion Eddy Kent stands tall. Sweetwater is wearing a black under armour tracksuit bottoms and green nike trainers while Jessica is wearing a gucci green jumpsuit with a golden belt, while her blood red hair is neatly cropped. Kent stands tall and proud as the camera zooms in on him with the 6WF world championship over his shoulder and the 6CWF tag team championship over the other. Kent seems aloof and slightly weary as he stares at Liam Wood in the ring. Kent is wearing his new "The Inevitable one" 6CWF black t-shirt with the lettering in poison green. He is also wearing black tracksuit bottoms and poison green air jordans. Sweetwater and Jessica move slightly back into the background as Kent wryly smiles as he removes his 6WF title and 6CWF tag team championship and raises both into the sky slowly as fireworks shoot off from the sides of the titantron behind Genesis. The voices of RJ and JT can then be heard over the airwaves as the fans continue to stand with their phones filming the entrance of the daddy of the 6CWF with the camera zooming up to Kent who nods at a vindictive looking Jessica and a confident Michael Sweetwater. Kent mouths something to the pair who look at him and grin before turning around and leaving Kent alone as he begins his descent to the ring.]

JT: And here he is, RJ.. three hundred and eighty two days. I will say that again... THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY TWO DAYS! our undisputed 6WF world heavyweight champion and one half of the 6CWF tag team champions... RJ, have you ever seen a champion like this? Genesis is truly awakening.

RJ: 6WF undisputed world heavyweight champion Eddy Kent is certainly seeming confident tonight and why shouldn't he be? however... tonight's showdown with the charismatic and volatile Liam Wood could be his biggest test yet...

JT: Liam Wood has Thunder now, RJ. Don't forget that. They are firmly determined to under to defeat the Daddy of this company, arguably one of the greatest of time... or certainly on his way to the greatest of all time, Eddy Kent. And who's to say tonight Thunder gives Wood a helping hand? or Genesis gives Kent a helping hand?

RJ: The other factors in this match will not dilute Eddy Kent's hold on the 6WF world championship, JT, He has been to war with a legends of this company, rising stars of this company, veterans of this company and has been victorious every single time. And still he rises...

[Kent reaches the steel steps by ringside and the camera zooms in on the champion. Kent looks up at the camera and smriks, winking his right eye and muttering Daddy always wins. Before moving up the steps and making his way through the ring ropes as the crowd remain on their feet. The spotlight is on Kent as he paces the middle of the ring, his eyes locked on Wood. Kent takes both titles off his shoulders and then Kent slowly raises it once more over his head and more fireworks explode from the titantron with fans still on their feet. Kent then lowers the championships, placing them back over his shoulders. Kent asks for a microphone and is given one by Allie, the ring announcer. Numb dies down as the fans start a Daddy's home chant, a Wood chant and some loud boos for good measure. Kent licks his lips with glee and toses the microphone around in his hands as the camera once again zooms in on the champion. Kent's ice cold blue eyes peer at Wood, almost a little nervously and then back to the arena as he raises the microphone to his lips.]

Kent: Co-Op Arena... Manchester... DADDY IS HERE!

[The crowd return to Kent with a cacophony of loud boos mixed in with a few Genesis cheers of "Save 6CWF" and "We want Daddy" as Kent rolls the microphone in his hands as Wood looks on. Kent rubs his nose and exhales and locks onto Liam Wood with those ice cold blue eyes. Kent chuckles to himself and rolls his head from to side to side for a few moments. Kent then raises the microphone back to his lips to address Liam Wood who remains fixed on Kent.]

Kent: Liam, Liam... Liam Wood. I thought I would make it comfortable for you tonight. I could have brought the guys down here but I don't want to spook you, I know you can be skittish like a dear. Why would I put my family in harms way? We know how you react... you lash out like a wild animal, so, as a man of my word, It's just me out here. Can I say the same about you? got that metal knee pad? is Thunder going to jump out from under the ring? I guess we will see...

Kent: A lot can change in a few months... you've fought those demons, Liam. You've stepped up and look at you now, on the precipice of the biggest match of your career to date, against me tonight for the undisputed 6WF world heavyweight championship. You probably won't believe me or think I'm being insincere... but the fact is Liam, I'm proud of you. I'm proud of Liam Wood. You've finally got my attention, you've got the attention of these people and you've used your time, to try and hunt Genesis down, one by one. I give you credit for that.

Kent: It's not easy in this day and age to get my attention, to get yourself on the radar of the single greatest wrestler of all time and the greatest faction of all time, so for that you have my credit. These people love the disruptor, they will chant your name and cheer you on and on to finally be the man. But, Liam, you have to enjoy tonight because this could be your one and last shot at greatness. It's not often someone who is adored by the 6CWF underground, the Anti-Genesis brigade makes it this far so congrats to you Liam, but I urge you to enjoy tonight.

Kent: See, like I've said many, many times before... I have advanced this business. You seem like you're hellbent on sending us back to the small time, the bingo halls, the dregs of society where your fans seem to reside. Me, I pushed us forward... all the way to the big screen! I think the kids call it "Cinema" these days? and I am the biggest star of them all on the big screen. The mega star of 6CWF. I've changed this business from the small time to a multi-billion dollar industry, I've done everything you can do. And what have you done, Liam? What have you done around here for the past year and a half, Liam? the only thing you've done is be a disruptor and cosplay a modern day version ofStone Cold Steve Austin.

Kent: Your little dream, your little fun is done now, It's over, finished. You're in my reality now, Liam. This is my industry. My company. Hear me out a second, Liam. From my perspective, you're not for for this job. You're not fit to be the face of this company because you're ill-equipped and obsessed. You believe everyone is out to get Liam Wood but in reality, nobody cares. My advice to you, Liam, is to start thinking with your head and stop thinking with your heart. You like to promise this, promise that... What did you talk about just now? karma is real? you're telling us to remember that. A promise is it?

[Wood remains focused on Kent as Kent continues to spout his venom. Kent shakes his head and chuckles softly. Kent rubs the side of his face before continuing to speak.]

Kent: That's all you do really, isn't it Liam? promise this, promise that, Genesis is going to be broken, I'm taking Kent's championship and it goes on and on and on. But do you really ever deliver, Liam? do you ever keep this promises? You've told all these people lie after lie about me and my Genesis and nothing has happened. Nothing has come to fruition. I mean sure, you've got your licks in but in reality, it's no more than water off a ducks back. And in the cold light of day Liam, You are a number two.

Kent: And no, as I said earlier, I'm proud of Liam. And you should all be proud of Liam. I mean this with respect, all of you would be lucky to be a number two and I share the ring with one of the greatest number two's of all time. Here's the kicker, Liam, the reality is that you will always and forever be, one of the greatest number twos. Because if it hasn't hit you yet, I'm number one. For as long as I want to be, I will be number one. We can debate and talk about it until the cows come home but the fact is I am the greatest to ever do this and it's just unlucky that you are living in this era. Actually, you're lucky I let you breathe in my era.

Kent: I wan't to make it clear to you, Liam, Genesis and I will treat you right this evening. We are going to make sure you're nice and comfortable for your big match tonight. Let me put your mind at ease. Rex Adamson, my dear "son." Rex knows what the role is tonight. Rex will call it right down the middle and has all the support from me and Genesis, you don't have to worry about that. But Rex knows the score about your friend, Thunder. I don't have to tell him. I trust him. He knows he has his daddy's full trust. Tonight, two problems face Eddy Kent, but you should know that it will be called under the watchful eyes of Genesis's son, the special referee Rex Adamson. You see, Rex and I share more than just trust and respect. We now share a legacy. The Genesis legacy that courses through our veins, binding us together in a bond that goes beyond blood. As the special referee, Rex will ensure that this match is officiated well. Can you promise the same about your enforcer, Thunder?

Kent: Rex knows his responsibility. There is no doubt in my mind that Rex will continue to uphold the legacy of Genesis that runs in our blood, No matter what, one thing is clear  though, Liam. Daddy's reign continues and the 6WF Undisputed World Heavyweight Championship remains firmly in my grasp. So, you need to take heed. Not only do you face the undisputed champion, the daddy of 6WF, but you also will need to respect the rules of the son of Genesis. Tonight, in this ring, Liam, amidst the chaos and the cheers, the daddy of 6CWF will once again prove why he is the alpha, the omega, and the undisputed ruler of this company. Because Genesis and I are simply levels above all. And you will realise I am inevitable.

[The crowd largely boo at Kent's tirade and rhetoric as he laughs sarcastically. He taps his championships at a unfazed Liam Wood who just stares daggers at Kent. Kent looks down his nose at Wood as he mouths "Face your inevitable end, Liam" as the crowd eagerly await Wood's reply.]

acer101 wrote: A considerable amount of time has passed since Saint entered the Co-op Arena. The scattered remnants of a Deliveroo order litter the ring apron—crumpled bags, half-eaten food, and tipped-over drink. In the corner of the ring, Saint sits, bathed in the pale glow of his phone screen, scrolling aimlessly. The arena is silent, as the set-up crew have finished for the day.

Suddenly, the stillness is broken by a voice, distant at first but quickly gaining clarity as it reverberates through the empty arena. It’s a calm, measured tone, yet it carries undeniable weight. "You wanted to see me?"

Saint’s head snaps up, eyes scanning the empty rows of seats before settling on the figure slowly making his way down the steps from the concourse. Acer. His silhouette is framed by the dim lights, every footstep deliberate, as if each movement carries the weight of a thousand thoughts. He steps through a gap in the guard rail with ease, his pace unhurried but purposeful. Without breaking stride, Acer ascends the ring steps and ducks between the ropes, entering the ring.

Acer’s eyes don’t meet Saint’s right away. Instead, his gaze is distant, unfocused, fixed on something far beyond the arena’s walls. A thousand-yard stare, haunted by the gravity of what he’s about to say. His brow furrows slightly, as if he's sorting through a tangled web of emotions. Finally, after a long pause, he shifts his focus to Saint, his expression hard yet tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m not here to fight you, Saint,” Acer begins, his voice low but firm. “In fact, I don’t want to fight you at all. But it seems like someone—whether it’s you or someone else—wants to see me do just that. The reason I’m here, though, is out of respect. Respect for you.”

A brief silence hangs between them, heavy and loaded. Acer takes a breath, as though preparing himself for the reaction to what comes next. “I can empathise with the position you’re in. You’re caught in the crossfire, stuck between two men. One has spent every waking moment provoking, needling, pushing the other to the brink, through his words and actions. And the other... well, he’s finally standing up for himself. But if you truly wanted to fix this mess, Saint, you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’d be face-to-face with JJ, holding him accountable.”

Saint’s expression remains neutral, but there's a flicker in his eyes—is that a small sign that Acer’s words might be hitting close to home? Acer steps closer, his tone softening slightly, though his intensity never wavers.

“I want you to know," Acer continues, "that I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this. What happened at Beachfront Brawl, costing you your shot at regaining the Tag Team Championships... that was never my intention. You weren’t the target. You just... ended up in the crossfire, collateral damage in a war you didn’t ask for."

He pauses again, weighing his next words carefully. "But JJ? Taking him out? That was justified. I don’t expect you to understand, not fully, not yet. But I hope you can at least see that I’m not the villain in this. I’m just as much a victim as you are, Saint. Maybe more.”

The tension in the air is palpable. Acer’s gaze, now fixed firmly on Saint, speaks volumes—regret, frustration, defiance. Everything hangs on what happens next, but for now, although the arena is empty, the viewers at home hold their collective breath, waiting for Saints response.

The Saint studies his long time friend. He doesn't immediately reply and just keeps staring. He seems to be wrestling with what to say exactly. Eventually he speaks...

TS: Have you heard yourself recently?! You "didn't mean for me to get caught up in this"?

The Saint shakes his head.

TS: This isn't you, Acer. I don't know how I can make that any plainer.

You're walking round here sounding like some sort of Hans Gruber cosplayer...

Usually I'd find this kind of thing hilarious and would really enjoy taking the opportunity to tear you to pieces... If anything, I'm just sad.

All I can think about is where did this all fall apart? At what point did this happen?

What happened to my friend?

The Saint allows that question to hold in the air.

TS: And I'm not talking about Jay, no. I'm looking firmly in your direction. I'm struggling to work you out.

JJ is JJ. He hasn't changed since we met him. What you see is what you get. This is the guy who decided that a night out with Carmen Elektra was the best way to prepare for a tag team match back in the day!

There's not an iota of malice in him outside of the ring, especially where his friends are concerned.

So for you to start putting this narrative together, to me, says that something isn't right between those ears of yours.

Acer's face screws up at this, as he tries to keep his composure intact. The Saint sighs and shakes his head.

TS: I don't want to fight you either, Acer. It's the last thing I want. We've never fought one another and I'd hoped we'd never have to...

But it's necessary. Even if it just means I can try to knock some sense into you...

The two men stare one another down, the silence of the empty arena adding to the growing tension between them.

DP wrote:

acer101 wrote: A considerable amount of time has passed since Saint entered the Co-op Arena. The scattered remnants of a Deliveroo order litter the ring apron—crumpled bags, half-eaten food, and tipped-over drink. In the corner of the ring, Saint sits, bathed in the pale glow of his phone screen, scrolling aimlessly. The arena is silent, as the set-up crew have finished for the day.

Suddenly, the stillness is broken by a voice, distant at first but quickly gaining clarity as it reverberates through the empty arena. It’s a calm, measured tone, yet it carries undeniable weight. "You wanted to see me?"

Saint’s head snaps up, eyes scanning the empty rows of seats before settling on the figure slowly making his way down the steps from the concourse. Acer. His silhouette is framed by the dim lights, every footstep deliberate, as if each movement carries the weight of a thousand thoughts. He steps through a gap in the guard rail with ease, his pace unhurried but purposeful. Without breaking stride, Acer ascends the ring steps and ducks between the ropes, entering the ring.

Acer’s eyes don’t meet Saint’s right away. Instead, his gaze is distant, unfocused, fixed on something far beyond the arena’s walls. A thousand-yard stare, haunted by the gravity of what he’s about to say. His brow furrows slightly, as if he's sorting through a tangled web of emotions. Finally, after a long pause, he shifts his focus to Saint, his expression hard yet tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m not here to fight you, Saint,” Acer begins, his voice low but firm. “In fact, I don’t want to fight you at all. But it seems like someone—whether it’s you or someone else—wants to see me do just that. The reason I’m here, though, is out of respect. Respect for you.”

A brief silence hangs between them, heavy and loaded. Acer takes a breath, as though preparing himself for the reaction to what comes next. “I can empathise with the position you’re in. You’re caught in the crossfire, stuck between two men. One has spent every waking moment provoking, needling, pushing the other to the brink, through his words and actions. And the other... well, he’s finally standing up for himself. But if you truly wanted to fix this mess, Saint, you wouldn’t be talking to me. You’d be face-to-face with JJ, holding him accountable.”

Saint’s expression remains neutral, but there's a flicker in his eyes—is that a small sign that Acer’s words might be hitting close to home? Acer steps closer, his tone softening slightly, though his intensity never wavers.

“I want you to know," Acer continues, "that I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this. What happened at Beachfront Brawl, costing you your shot at regaining the Tag Team Championships... that was never my intention. You weren’t the target. You just... ended up in the crossfire, collateral damage in a war you didn’t ask for."

He pauses again, weighing his next words carefully. "But JJ? Taking him out? That was justified. I don’t expect you to understand, not fully, not yet. But I hope you can at least see that I’m not the villain in this. I’m just as much a victim as you are, Saint. Maybe more.”

The tension in the air is palpable. Acer’s gaze, now fixed firmly on Saint, speaks volumes—regret, frustration, defiance. Everything hangs on what happens next, but for now, although the arena is empty, the viewers at home hold their collective breath, waiting for Saints response.

The Saint studies his long time friend. He doesn't immediately reply and just keeps staring. He seems to be wrestling with what to say exactly. Eventually he speaks...

TS: Have you heard yourself recently?! You "didn't mean for me to get caught up in this"?

The Saint shakes his head.

TS: This isn't you, Acer. I don't know how I can make that any plainer.

You're walking round here sounding like some sort of Hans Gruber cosplayer...

Usually I'd find this kind of thing hilarious and would really enjoy taking the opportunity to tear you to pieces... If anything, I'm just sad.

All I can think about is where did this all fall apart? At what point did this happen?

What happened to my friend?

The Saint allows that question to hold in the air.

TS: And I'm not talking about Jay, no. I'm looking firmly in your direction. I'm struggling to work you out.

JJ is JJ. He hasn't changed since we met him. What you see is what you get. This is the guy who decided that a night out with Carmen Elektra was the best way to prepare for a tag team match back in the day!

There's not an iota of malice in him outside of the ring, especially where his friends are concerned.

So for you to start putting this narrative together, to me, says that something isn't right between those ears of yours.

Acer's face screws up at this, as he tries to keep his composure intact. The Saint sighs and shakes his head.

TS: I don't want to fight you either, Acer. It's the last thing I want. We've never fought one another and I'd hoped we'd never have to...

But it's necessary. Even if it just means I can try to knock some sense into you...

The two men stare one another down, the silence of the empty arena adding to the growing tension between them.

Acer clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white as he struggles to hold back the flood of emotions surging through him. His eyes meet The Saint’s, and for a brief moment, there’s a flicker of something—pain, frustration, maybe even regret. But it’s gone as quickly as it appears. He exhales sharply and steps forward, his voice low, but simmering with intensity.

"Hans Gruber? Really, Saint? Is that how little you think of me now? Like I’m some over-the-top villain playing a part?"

He shakes his head, the tension clear in his every movement, as though he’s fighting against the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"You think I want it to be this way? That I enjoy how things have changed? You're standing there, questioning me, but you don’t know what it’s like to be trapped in someone else’s shadow. *His* shadow."

The mention of JJ visibly tightens Acer’s jaw. He struggles to keep his composure, but there’s a crack in his voice as he continues.

"You want to talk about when it all fell apart? Fine. It fell apart the day I realised I could never escape his shadow, to escape him, no matter what I did. It fell apart when I watched JJ make mistake after mistake, trampling all over my path like a stampede of wildebeest and still... somehow, people looked past it. He’s the guy who interfered with my singles win against Daniel Reilly, essentially tainting my victory to the outside world, and yet everyone - including you - just shrugs and says, 'Oh, that’s just JJ!'"

Acer pauses, his chest rising and falling with frustration, his voice rising with each word.

"You say he has no malice, but maybe that’s the problem, Saint! He has no malice towards you, but ever since I told you both that I wanted to go it alone, he’s been needling me every chance he gets. The Coalition posters, the TAW Championship. He knows of my desire to be a World Champion, even a Tag Champion. Guess what – when I chose to go it alone, the Tag Team Champions miraculously return to 6CWF! I’ve worked my entire career to be taken seriously, to be seen as more than just 'one of JJ’s entourage' and every time I get close to stepping out from under his shadow, there he is, dragging me back in."

The bitterness in his voice is palpable now. Acer takes another step forward, his eyes locked on Saint’s, his hands trembling with the weight of everything unsaid for years.

"You don’t get it. You can’t get it. Ever since day one, you’ve been a Main Event Player, World Championship calibre – you’ve been ‘the guy’. You’ve never had to scratch, claw and fight for your identity and place on the roster like I have. JJ has got away with everything he’s done to me because he's JJ. But me? I get painted as the villain because I’ve had enough. I’m desperate, Saint. I want that World Championship. I need it. And if taking JJ out is what it takes for people to finally see me for who I am, then so be it."

Acer’s voice drops, his tone suddenly quieter, more vulnerable, as he takes a step back.

"I don’t want to fight you either, Saint. There is no one in this business who respects you as much as I do. But you standing here, trying to 'knock some sense' into me, like I’m the one who’s lost—well, that’s where you’re wrong. I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m done being the good guy. I’m done playing second fiddle. You might see me as someone different now, but maybe... maybe this is who I was meant to be all along."

The silence stretches between them, the weight of Acer's words hanging heavy in the empty arena. His gaze never wavers from Saint’s, his expression hard, yet underneath, there’s a flicker of something deeper.

The scene opens in the 6CWF Trainers Room. The camera zooms in to rest on a protective face mask that is on the lead Trainers desk.

The shot zooms out slowly to reveal Scott Harris staring at the mask, looking markedly unimpressed at it. The Sharpshooter's face still sports the bruises from his broken nose that he suffered, with his eyes still holding a yellow colour underneath.

The lead trainer is also with Harris.

Trainer: I'm sorry Scott but the only way we clear you to compete is to mandate that you wear that protective mask. It's the only way.

Harris continues to look at the mask.

SH: I'm going to look like a d*ck.

Trainer: You won't.

SH: Would you wear it?!

The Trainer chuckles (ala Dr. Hibbert in the Simpsons).

Trainer: Lord no.

The trainer walks away and Harris mutters under his breath.

SH: What an a*sehole...

Clarissa enters the shot.

Clarissa: Scott, great to see you. How are you feeling?

SH: Hi Clarissa, as you can see, I won't be winning any beauty contests any time soon but apart from feeling a bit sore still, I'm ready and raring to go. I hate having to miss a show and if it was down to me, I'd have been there at Aftermath.

C: Are you excited to be part of Unleashed II?

SH: Damn right I am! I remember being in the crowd for Unleashed I all those years ago. Apart from thinking The Saint was off his rocker for coming up with such a thing, I remember loving every second... It was complete chaos!

C: On a night where you could face anyone in any stipulation, how do you prepare for such an event?

SH: It doesn't really matter whoever it is or however it is, I'm always good to go. Wrestling comes to me as easily as breathing. Once I'm in that ring and I'm hearing the crowd shout my name - I'm locked in on the task at hand.

I'm looking forward to getting out there and giving the people of Manchester something to cheer. I want to embrace the chaos of Unleashed!

C: And finally, there's the chance you might get another shot at Daniel Reilly, with him defending his EWF Global Championship against multiple men. Your thoughts on that please?

Harris' mood shifts at thought of what happened at Beachfront Brawl.

SH: All I'll say is that he'll get what's coming to him, be that at my hand or someone elses. You can't be that much of a ball bag and get away with it. Karma is coming his way and when it does, it needs hanging in The Louvre.

C: Thanks for your time, Scott.

SH: Anytime!

Harris goes to leave and Clarissa picks up the face mask.

C: Scott, don't you need this?!

Harris rolls his eyes and turns back to take the mask.

SH: How could I forget it...

The scene finishes by zooming back into the mask.

The Saint turns away from Acer, getting more and more exasperated.

TS: Have you heard yourself?! Have you taken a second to step back and listen to just how depraved this all is?!

Ever since you stated that you wanted to find your own way, plot your own path to the top, JJ and I have done NOTHING but try to support you. We understood. We were HAPPY for you. I want nothing more than for you to go and grab the glory that has been long overdue.

But I get it, I understand. It must be difficult for you when all the comparisons are drawn up. All the graphics showing the Coalition world title reigns, the breakdowns of who has held what. That zero next to your name must be a burden. I'd be the same too.

But it's never come from me and it's never come from JJ. We've never laboured that point, we've never once talked about it like you seem to think.

You came back from the wilderness like a man possessed. I've never seen you look better in the ring.

The Saint turns back to face Acer now. He starts walking slowly towards him until he is nearly nose to nose with his opponent at Unleashed II.

TS: But I can see why that is now... I understand it that bit better.

You're just an insecure little man-child who has been consumed by his own inadequacy.

The Saint lets that sink in.

TS: It seems like you've chosen your path. It's the wrong path but I still respect you enough to let you do your own thing.

But you doing your own thing has bought you into my orbit now. At the core of it, your insecurity cost me, albeit indirectly, a chance at getting those tag belts back... And these days I live by a simple rule.

You don't get mad, you get even.

You said it yourself, you reeled off my accolades like the jealous little b*tch boy you've become. I was 'the guy' once upon a time...

Maybe not as much these days but as the adage goes, class is permanent and you're going to see just why I've racked up the number of titles that I have over the years. I've always said I've got one more run to the top in me and I'm not going to let you derail that.

The Saint holds the stare, the intensity between the two friends bubbling to the surface.

TS: I remember my very first promo when I joined 6WF. I remember you being behind the camera, calling the shots. You saw something in me that not many others did. For that, I'll always be grateful to you Acer, I'll always hold that bit of love for you but just as I said at the end of that first address, the words still ring true now...

The Saint emphasises these last words for full effect.

TS: Sunday night. Unleashed II. Manchester. My hometown, my people.

You won't even make it to JJ...

You...
Will...
Be...
SAINTED!

The Saint and Acer are once again nose to nose as you could almost hear a pin drop.

DP wrote:The Saint turns away from Acer, getting more and more exasperated.

TS: Have you heard yourself?! Have you taken a second to step back and listen to just how depraved this all is?!

Ever since you stated that you wanted to find your own way, plot your own path to the top, JJ and I have done NOTHING but try to support you. We understood. We were HAPPY for you. I want nothing more than for you to go and grab the glory that has been long overdue.

But I get it, I understand. It must be difficult for you when all the comparisons are drawn up. All the graphics showing the Coalition world title reigns, the breakdowns of who has held what. That zero next to your name must be a burden. I'd be the same too.

But it's never come from me and it's never come from JJ. We've never laboured that point, we've never once talked about it like you seem to think.

You came back from the wilderness like a man possessed. I've never seen you look better in the ring.

The Saint turns back to face Acer now. He starts walking slowly towards him until he is nearly nose to nose with his opponent at Unleashed II.

TS: But I can see why that is now... I understand it that bit better.

You're just an insecure little man-child who has been consumed by his own inadequacy.

The Saint lets that sink in.

TS: It seems like you've chosen your path. It's the wrong path but I still respect you enough to let you do your own thing.

But you doing your own thing has bought you into my orbit now. At the core of it, your insecurity cost me, albeit indirectly, a chance at getting those tag belts back... And these days I live by a simple rule.

You don't get mad, you get even.

You said it yourself, you reeled off my accolades like the jealous little b*tch boy you've become. I was 'the guy' once upon a time...

Maybe not as much these days but as the adage goes, class is permanent and you're going to see just why I've racked up the number of titles that I have over the years. I've always said I've got one more run to the top in me and I'm not going to let you derail that.

The Saint holds the stare, the intensity between the two friends bubbling to the surface.

TS: I remember my very first promo when I joined 6WF. I remember you being behind the camera, calling the shots. You saw something in me that not many others did. For that, I'll always be grateful to you Acer, I'll always hold that bit of love for you but just as I said at the end of that first address, the words still ring true now...

The Saint emphasises these last words for full effect.

TS: Sunday night. Unleashed II. Manchester. My hometown, my people.

You won't even make it to JJ...

You...
Will...
Be...
SAINTED!

The Saint and Acer are once again nose to nose as you could almost hear a pin drop.

Acer’s face remains stoic as The Saint’s words land, but beneath his calm exterior, there's a flicker of something deeper—disappointment, not anger. He listens in silence, refusing to rise to the bait. When The Saint finally stops, their faces inches apart, Acer doesn’t back down. The tension is thick, but Acer’s expression tells a different story. He’s not full of rage—he’s carrying the weight of a man misunderstood, determined, yet deeply wounded.

"For someone who claims they don’t want to fight me, you sure seem ready to throw punches. You know, I didn’t expect you to get it. I hoped, maybe... but I never truly expected it."

He takes a measured step back, his voice calm but with an edge of fire burning behind his eyes.

"Depraved? Insecure? It’s funny hearing those hurtful words from you. Because no matter what I say, it’s clear—you’ve already made your mind up. You’ve picked your side. But you’ve got it wrong, Saint. Dead wrong. You think you know me, that you’ve figured me out... but you’ve never really looked beyond the surface. You and JJ talk about how you’ve supported me, how you were 'happy' for me. So where were you when I needed you to step up? Where were you when JJ tainted my victory over Daniel Reilly? Where were you when JJ washed his hands of me, letting me get fined £50k by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbf**k? Probably blowing up balloons for the party you were planning to throw me for getting a title shot."

Acer shakes his head, the weight of disappointment clear in his voice.

"This isn’t about some petty insecurity. This is about survival. It’s about validation. I’ve spent almost two decades trying to prove I belong, trying to step out of your shadow, out of JJ’s shadow. I tried to do it the right way, Saint. I tried to walk my own path, but every step I took, JJ was there, undermining me, playing his little games, keeping me in his shadow while you either looked the other way, or actively supported his actions. But when I finally had enough, when I decided to stand up for myself—suddenly I’m the villain."

He exhales sharply, his voice dropping. There’s pain now, deeply buried, but slipping out through the cracks.

"You say I’ve changed... maybe I have. But what choice did I have left? You want to talk about respect, Saint? I don’t think you’ve ever truly respected me—not as an equal, not as someone capable of standing on my own two feet. And JJ? He’s made damn sure I never could. Not while he was around."

He takes a deliberate step backwards his voice steady, but every word is laced with conviction.

“I’m not doing this because I want to hurt you, Saint. I’m doing this because I have to. It’s the only way I’ll ever be free. The only way I can finally escape your shadows and build my own legacy. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve had to become, it’s because you, JJ, everyone who has ever looked past me—you’ve all forced me into a corner. You call me the bad guy... but I’m the one who’s been fighting for his life, fighting for a career that I’ve built with my blood, sweat, and tears."

Acer’s fists slowly unclench as he takes a step back, creating a physical gap between himself and The Saint as large as the emotional one now between them. Although his tone remains calm, controlled, it is clear that these words come from a real place of hurt.

"You think I’m wanted to derail your run to the top? No. That was not my goal. But if you get in my way, Saint... I’ll go through you. Not because I want to, but because I have no other choice. This isn’t about revenge. This is about survival. This is about being seen for who I really am—without JJ, without the Coalition, without anyone casting their shadow over me."

His voice drops to a near-whisper, the words heavy with meaning.

"You say I won’t make it to JJ... but you’re wrong. I will. Because I have to. You might not like the path I’ve chosen, but I didn’t have any other option. And deep down, I think you know that."

Acer steps back, his gaze still locked with The Saint’s. There’s no malice in his eyes—just steely determination. He turns slowly, walking toward the ropes with purpose. He stops just as he’s about to step out, glancing back one last time.

“You don’t get mad, you get even. Well, Saint, I’m not mad either. But come Sunday, in this very ring, in front of your people... you don’t get to even the score. And if you really want to 'Saint' me... at least throw me a party first."

With those final words, Acer steps through the ropes and walks down the ramp. His footsteps echo through the empty arena as he heads toward the exit, not once looking back.

Perfect Jack is sat in a room with a monitor in front of him. He is sat on an armchair, clutching his European championship tightly in one hand, with a remote control in the over. He switches the monitor on and a video plays. It's the final minutes of his championship match against Dicey Reilly. He pauses the video just before Dicey passes out. Jack takes a deep intake of breath almost in a sick way, taking pleasure in Dicey's pain before speaking.

PJ: I've watched this over and over again, the sight of Dicey giving up, the pain etched on his face. The thought of it will never ever leave me. I've done what I always wanted to do. I made Dicey quit. I broke his spirit.

Perfect Jack plays the tape over and over again before turning it off completely. He stands up and holds the European championship close to his face, staring at it intensely. He smiles before speaking.

PJ: My precious championship. You are the symbol of Dicey Reilly's spirit. I took it, it is mine and always will be.

Perfect Jack picks up a nearby action figure of Dicey Reilly, he bites the figure's head off and puts beheaded figure on the shelf next to Uryu Ishida's. He places the head near the feet of Dicey Reilly's figure on the shelf. The camera focuses on the dismembered head of Dicey before turning and showing a shadowy figure in the corner before fading to black quickly.

[The crowd are going wild at Wood's reaction to Kent's poisonous tirade as the camera flicks between the two men, Wood eyeballing Kent and Kent breathing in deeply and exhaling, a slight crack appearing in his confidence. Kent purses his lips, adjusts his title belts and and cricks his neck from side to side, backing away from Wood. The crowd are mixed between cheering for a determined Liam Wood and the Genesis diehards and Kent loyalists as the co-op arena is shaking with excitement. Kent tosses the microphone between his hands and then leans against the turnbuckle, nearest the steel steps with a sinister and egotistical grin spreading across his face. He then begins another tirade at Wood who stands eyeballing the sadistic Kent.]

Kent: Lies... I tell lies in your eyes Liam? Is it a lie that I am the most dominant 6WF world heavyweight champion of all time? is it a lie that I have taken this company to levels that have never and will never be seen again in our lifetimes? and is it a lie that every time you and try and attempt to take this golden crown you have just come up a little short. Over... and over and over again? because I'm sure as hell know these people know that you've failed, multiple times. And because, well quite frankly... you know deep down... you can't beat me. But because of your heart, which i can't disparage, you just won't give up will you? and I applaud that.

Kent: But that's just it... if we go really deep and I mean really deep In that big old heart of yours, you know you're just not on my level. You're not on my wavelength! and this goes beyond what happens tonight this goes back years, and years now Liam. Look at the statistics. Look at the titles between us, you're not even in the same discussion as I am as the greatest professional wrestler in the world today. Hell Liam, we're not even the same stratospheres! your a cinderella story like the rest... I just deal in cold hard reality. But I will give it to you, Liam, your cinderella story is a pretty good one but it's going to end the same way as all the rest before you.

[Kent evily chuckles and looks Wood up and down, looks out to the fans who are baying for Kent's blood and points at Wood mockingly before continuing to speak his venom.]

Kent: I mean, look at this guy! come on... this  is a new era of professional wrestling! you're just not cut out to be a face of a company Liam. Take my compliment of being one of the best number two's around though. I truly mean it. You've scratched, you've crawled and you've bled to get a chance like this and you and your family should be proud of you. Emmy should be so proud of you. Like I am.. because not many can hang with me. They cannot hang with me because well you guessed it... I am the greatest of all time! it's just the way of the world. I can't change that, you can't change and these people sure as hell can't change it!

Kent: But I do want you to know, Liam. One of the reasons you can be proud is that you played a big part in the man you are dealing with right now. As a matter of fact, my Genesis, is down to a big part you played five or so years ago Liam. You surely remember nearly ending my career over in Japan? I bet you do. Well, your actions that night triggered something in me. It awoken something inside me that this is what I was born to do... to dominate. To lead a group into a golden age of wrestling under my guidance. So if anything, as well as being proud of you Liam... I think I have to partly thank you. Thank you for helping creating a career that has overtaken you in so, so many ways. The greatest of all time with the greatest group of all time, Genesis!

[Kent slyly chuckles and points at Wood, mockingly thanking him. Kent tone changes slightly, his ice cold blue eyes locking onto Wood, his grin fading into something more aloof and sinister as he raises his microphone back to his lips.]

Kent: I really want you to enjoy tonight, Liam. I really want you to saviour the moment, because who know's what comes next. Do you understand what level you're at right now? does that brain of yours understand the severity of the situation you find yourself in? probably not... the wolf at the door he says. You might be the wolf, Liam, but I have the silver bullet. Genesis has the silver bullets... and I see a wolf who needs putting down. So I'm going to do you a favour Liam, I will put you out of your misery tonight.

Kent: And I'm a man of my word, I have always been a man of my word! I can assure you that once Genesis and I are through with Liam Wood... you'll have just enough left. You, Emmy and the rest of your family will just have enough left. You'll have just enough left that you'll tuck your tail between your legs, Emmy in toe and go back to what you do best. Rebooting Extreme Garden wrestling again, Because that is your level, Liam. And I will carry on being the greatest of all time. The inevitable one and the one you'll never forget for the rest of time.

[Kent arrogantly smiles, his pearly white teeth in full view of Wood and the camera zooming in on him as the crowd launch a barrage of boos towards the egomanical and clearly becoming lost in his own self absorbtion, 6WF undisputed world heavyweight champion and 6CWF tag team champion. Kent leans back and offers his hand out to Wood, with a pouting and coyly sneer as the crowd wait with baited breath to see what Wood says next.]

We cut backstage where we see Tim Allen, he's sitting down in a room with slightly dim lights and an 'UNLEASHED II' backdrop. The camera starts a slow zoom out as he speaks..


TA:
Ladies and gentlemen I sit down now for a talk with a man that has been through the ringer here in recent weeks, a man that has dealt with having a target on his back, fighting off all comers and finally seemed to have the world at his feet when he was betrayed by his own brother, please welcome, 6CW World Heavyweight Champion, Blue Dragon.. it's good to see you.


The camera now shows Tim sat upright in his chair, confidently speaking and full of vigour. Beside him, slumped in a chair is Blue Dragon. His clothes a little creased, his body language says alot about his mood. He is not in a good place.


BD:
If I've got to do this stupid sh*t.. can you just ask the questions..

TA:
Sure thing, so at Beachfront Brawl, we all saw what your brother, Logan Kincade, did to you. He betrayed you and cost you both the Tag Championship, after what can only be described as a brutal and exhausting match he attacked, hoisted you up and chokeslammed you through that hardcore contraption. Not only that but it seems that he stopped Rex Adamson from cashing in and taking your World Title... So that being said I have two questions first of all. How are you feeling after the physical assault? And after last week's show, do you have any idea what the reason for Logan's actions are?

BD:
Tom.. I don't know exactly why Logan does anything, I honestly don't this he knows. The man has no equal when it comes to unpredictable violence, and that includes me. I don't know... I just feel like I've lost him again.... I don't know what it will take this time, to bring him back.....
Maybe it's not that bad...


Blue Dragon stares off into the distance, contemplating his own question before Tim coughs bringing Dragon back to the interview..


BD:
Damien Andrews, the answer to most questions when it comes to betrayal he's acting like he doesn't know what's going on, f*ck that! He knows exactly where this has came from, and it's from him, from his dirty rotten imagination. Who else would know how to get inside Logan's head like this. Who else could manipulate Logan to his will. Damien is pretty much the only one with that power. And apart from me, no one else would know how to reason with Logan like this. To manipulate and to coerse things for his advantage...

TA:
Interesting that you say that, another question was about your father.. I mean. ..Mr Damien Andrews. The question being thrown around here is, what does Damien have to gain from this attack, is there a plan for Logan to be Damien's chosen champion, to protect his own interests?

BD:
Damien, our dad.. I don't like it but I will admit it.. is one of the smartest men I have ever known. If that man fell into a pile of rotten oysters, he would come up with a mouth full of pearls. I hope to all hell that this isn't his idea, something tells me we will find out soon enough but if he has Logan under his wing then this place is in for hell on earth.


Dragon gets a sick smile across his face, his slumped posture seems to straighten a little and his head raises now, he's looking Tim in the eye. Tim looks very worried all of a sudden as BD talks..


BD:
The other side of the coin however, the other situation we can find ourselves in here, is that Logan isn't doing what Damien says. That Logan is, infact, doing what Logan wants. In a way that's more dangerous for everyone, well, most people. For me, I hope it's the second choice here, because I cannot wait to see what that Slimy Ballsack, Andrews has to say for himself. Because if I know Logan like I think I do, there's more to this than meets the eye..


Tim looks surprised at Dragons words..


TA:
It sounds like you understand more than your letting on. Logan Kincade attacked you and he cost you a Tag Championship, almost cost you your World Championship. It sounds almost like you've forgiven him. But we heard last week that you want him in the ring. I'm sorry I'm just confused..

BD:
You don't get it do you Thomas.. I don't forgive him, I will never forget what he did to me, I will never forget the fact that, at Logan's most stable, at the point in our lives where either have trusted him most. When we where real brothers, for possibly the first time ever. That's when he decided to turn on me. He didn't just burn a bridge here mate, he blew it sky high with a sh*t tonne of dynamite and he p*ssed out the fire. I was on the bridge, it fell from beneath me and what I fell into was a pool of despair, for 7 days I was lost, I forgot who I was, where I was and when I was. But then last week, when I saw the look in his eye, when I saw how empty he was inside I realised that Im not the lost one here.. I realised that Logan is the one who's lost, that look I haven't seen for a long time, dead behind the eyes with nothing left but a thirst for blood, for destruction. The man I met in prison, the animal that I watched rip through guards and prisoners alike, that was the Logan Kincade I saw, and if I'm honest, in a sick kind of way... 
I've missed him....



TA:
I don't thi.....


As Allen talks, Dragon reaches out and places a palm over his face. Dragons hand engulfing tho whole of Tim's head, Dragon shifts over on his chair so that he is central to the screen, guiding Allen from the frame with a fist closed around his skull..


BD:
Sorry Tim, your jobs done here...


From off camera, we hear a whimper and then the door close as he leaves, Dragon looks to the camera now, as he moves forward on his seat so that the camera can pick up his words...


BD:
Damien, I don't think you understand quite what you've unleashed here. I told you months ago, you can't control him, you can't manipulate him. Don't you remember what happened last time you got between us? You sided with Logan, you tried to align yourself with the Evil that's inside him and he turned on you. It wasn't even like the darkness in him made him do it, I think that was simply a flash of common sense. And we both know that will happen again. He's not the man he was back then, we've got to know eachother better over the years and I can tell you now 'Dad' that he's possibly more dangerous than ever. I know, because it was me that pushed him there. It was me that took Logan to places that you and I would never have gone, it was me that forced him to do things that no man has ever had to do, and all those years ago, he bested me. But now.... Well, now is a different story, you see since my return to 6CWF, since my big bad comeback, no one has pushed me like Logan can. No one has taken me to the edge of what I can handle and pushed me over. 


I have proven without a shadow of a doubt that I am the Alpha of this company, of this industry. And the fact remains, that no one can stand tow to toe with me. That includes JJ Johnson, that includes Rex Adamson, Kent, Patrick's, Liam Wood.. that means everyone on the roster. So this week it doesn't matter who I go up against, there is no man on the books here, or anywhere, that can take me one on one, you know what Andrews and Adamson can put me in any stipulation they want, I'll take on any comer, I still.owe JJ a shot, I'm open to anything. But be warned lads, after the month I'm having, I'd advise you to come prepared for a f*cking fight, I'm not coming to wrestle, I'm coming to dominate....


As for this 'intervention' that Damien has planned this week. I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume Andrews is upto.something, a snake will always be a snake, but a Dragon, well... A Dragon will destroy anything, kill anyone, do anything to keep hold of it's gold....


The scene fades as Blue Dragon holds up his title to the camera and a confident smile crosses his face.