MD87: Rush (c) vs. Triple X vs. Mason Westhoff - Eurasian Championship

[Ty Burna]

A two round hiatus has left the EurAsian Champion in hot water with upper management. After being one of the most dominant EurAsian Champions in history, one has to wonder if the deck is finally stacked too high. Triple X rises out of the Elite X scene to climb the next step on the proverbial ladder in WZCW. Will this be his moment? Or, will the work of The Almighty be at hand as Mason Westhoff steps into the squared circle and strikes gold first for The Sacrificial Altar. Only time will tell!


Deadline is Wednesday, 10th of April - 11:59pm Central Time.​

 

[Thriller Ant]

The scene opens in the WZCW locker room a couple hours after Meltdown 86 went off the air. The only person still there is Brother Mason Westhoff, sitting in one of his suits on a bench under the only light still on. The Sacrificial Altar continued their success earlier in the evening by defeating their old rival, Mikey Stormrage, and Brother Westhoff’s new rival, Triple X. That match was far from Brother Westhoff’s current thoughts, however. His focus was on the announcement from the beginning of the show.

Dave: So, next week, you'll be defending the title against Triple X & Mason Westhoff in a Triple Threat match and if you don't decide to show up for that match, then I'll be stripping you of your title and you won't be allowed to compete for the Eurasian title again!

This was Brother Westhoff’s opportunity, not only to once again show the power of The Almighty, but also to really cement himself as a major player in WZCW. This could be a huge risk for Brother Westhoff, as a loss could send him into a much more damaging spiral than the one after The New Church lost in the Tag Team Title tournament. However, despite that recent failure, Brother Westhoff had spent his whole life taking risks and succeeding. This time would be no different.

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It’s midmorning in a small house in an Illinois suburb of St. Louis, Missouri. A middle aged couple is scurrying around the kitchen, seemingly preparing for some kind of event at the home. The husband is at the counter finishing up the cooking, the greys in his otherwise dark moustache and hair glistening in the sun. He carefully moves some potato salad into a serving bowl, making sure not to get any on his plaid dress shirt or jeans. The wife sweeps the floor nearby, but it doesn’t seem to be accomplishing anything. The husband looks over at her, nearly blinded by the sun bouncing off her yellow dress and strawberry blonde hair.

You’ve been sweeping for 45 minutes now; I think you’ve gotten every speck of dust that has ever been on this floor. Why don’t you go wake the boy up?

The wife laughs and sets the broom aside.

Sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect for this party. I still can’t believe our son graduated from high school yesterday.

Me neither, Ann. Me neither. He had us worried for a while there, but he pulled it off, like he always does. Let him know people should be getting here within the hour.

Ann leans in and gives her husband a kiss before heading down the hall. He returns to the counter to take on the giant ham that is waiting to be sliced. Just before he picked up the knife, a primal scream came from the other side of the house.

Eric! He’s gone! Oh my God he’s gone!

The police kept the search out for a few days, but they were unable to find the boy. Little did they know that they just needed to call a woman in Arkansas named Rhonda Rae Richardson. She was often called the gatekeeper for Texarkana, Arkansas since modest farmhouse on the northeastern outskirts of the city was tucked perfectly between Interstate 30 and Route 67. If anyone was heading southwest into Texarkana, she was the first to see them.

That’s why, on that warm day in early June, Rhonda Rae’s midday knitting session was interrupted by a ragged looking, exhausted young man. She quickly dropped everything and ran to help him inside, where she gave him a place to stay. Brother Mason Westhoff had arrived in Texarkana.

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Later that night, Brother Westhoff is sprawled across his bed with the bag he keeps his belongings in tossed in a corner. He doesn’t hate hotels, but recently he found himself missing Bridge to Salvation Church more and more. He hasn’t been back to Texarkana since the fire. The investigation worried him and he had no plans to rebuild anyway.

There was at least one phone call every day from one follower or another, asking Brother Westhoff to come back or to help. Somewhere inside of him, it did hurt to ignore them, but he had to follow the direction of The Sacrificial Altar. That building and that community were his sacrifice. He checked his phone, but this time, the name threw his mind back to Texarkana. The missed call was from Rhonda Rae Richardson.

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Rhonda Rae, or Sister Richardson, as she was now called, helped nurse Brother Westhoff back to health. As she did that, he told her of his journey south from suburban St. Louis, guided only by The Almighty. Sister Richardson had always been a religious person and had no trouble believing Brother Westhoff’s incredible story, and immediately began making arrangements for it to reach the larger community. That Sunday, a group of about fifteen people listened to Brother Westhoff preach. Although no one besides The Almighty realized it, Bridge to Salvation Church had just held its first service, and would continue to do so every Sunday until the beautiful church that would stand at that very location was burned to the ground.

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The next day, Brother Westhoff is backstage at a live event, taping a message that will be sent to the world on WZCW.com. It’s a simple set-up, with Brother Westhoff dressed in his suit in front of a plain black curtain. He stands with perfect posture, until he receives his cue.

I am a man that does what The Almighty asks of me. When I was asked to build a religious paradise in Arkansas, I did it. When I was asked to wrestle for the first time in my life, I did it. When I was asked to sacrifice the paradise I built, I did it. Now, The Almighty is asking me to win the EurAsian Championship and take my rightful place at the head of The Sacrificial Altar.

Two men stand in my way. First, is the adrenaline addict Triple X. You may be a former Elite X Champion, but last week it was made clear that you can’t fly around when you are in the ring with two larger men, as you will be again this week. Last week, Grand Mystique and I took away your fix. This week, I predict more of the same.

As for Rush, I actually have some respect for you and the old school mentality. What I don’t respect is the fact that it took you two weeks off to recover from a match with Matt Tastic, a man who was never able to achieve success outside of the Mayhem division. Rush, I understand that you are nearly seven feet tall and over 300 pounds. I also understand that you are over 50 years old and are probably much more frail than you let on. You’ve never faced someone as powerful as me, and I can assure you that it’ll take you a lot longer than two weeks to recover from what I’ll do to you.

I came to WZCW to give you all a chance at salvation, but you chose to ignore it. This week on Meltdown, I, Brother Mason Westhoff, will become your new EurAsian Champion. You will all bow before my Sacrificial Altar.

Brother Westhoff walked away from the curtain and the camera, knowing all of his journeys had led him to that match on Meltdown. Many in the locker room had grown to fear Grand Mystique's Sacrificial Altar. However, what they had accomplished so far was nothing compared to what will come from The Sacrificial Altar with EurAsian Champion, Brother Mason Westhoff at the helm.

 

[BK Styles]

The Day of Meltdown 87…​

I walk through the curtain and get my first glimpse of the arena for tonight’s Meltdown; the eighty-seventh edition, no less. In truth, it looks like most other arenas chosen for WCW’s flagship show. The seats and aisles are empty, save for members of security sweeping up and down. The ringside area has many people walking about; a few WZCW superstars here and there, members of the tech team are assembling the announce table, and a few workers are putting the finishing touches to the ring. I throw my bag down and sit on the ramp in my ripped jeans, my WZCW shirt and a baseball cap, and take in the empty space, thinking ahead to the match later on. Because for me, this relatively unremarkable arena could become the most important arena that my most important moment to this date takes place in.

Winning the Eurasian Championship.

???: This seat taken?

I look up to my right, and none other than Mikey Stormrage is standing beside me. I greet him as he sits next to me atop the ramp.

Stormrage: You ready for tonight?

X: I’m insulted you need to ask.

I shoot him a jokey smile as I speak. He continues to stare at me, a rather serious look upon his face.

Stormrage: No, I know you are. Just making sure you know.

I turn away and stare at the ring.

Stormrage: Rush has never faced anyone like you before, and Westhoff hasn’t faced you in a high-pressure situation. Of course, both of those points go either way, but unlike Westhoff, you’ve been a champion before. And Rush hasn’t been on eithe rof the last two Meltdowns, so there’s bound to be a little rust, especially with so much pressure on in the match. This match is yours to win, as far as I’m concerned.

X: And mine to lose.

I take my cap off and run my hands through my hair, which has returned to its natural blonde colour; a tradition I adhere to for championship matches. I look at the ring, and imagine myself coming off the top rope with the Firefly on Mason Westhoff. The image then switches to me planting the X-Rated Superkick into the jaw of Rush. It swtiches again to Westhoff picking me up and driving me down with the Wrath of the Almighty, followed by Rush drilling me with a Rushing Powerbomb. In true WZCW sense, it really could go either way. As I'm about to speak, my mind projects an image Steven Holmes into the ring, standing on the second rope whilst holding the World Heavyweight Championship. The very thought churns my stomach, knowing how close I came to having his opportunity.

X: All the while I just…I can’t help but think what might have been. Y’know? If I’d have beaten Holmes at All or Nothing. If I’d have become the number one contender.

Stormrage: I get that. Well, the Holmes part. Hell, I mean, at least you got your hands on Holmes one-on-one. I still haven’t had a proper shot at Mystique.

X: You will. And you’ll kick his ass.

Stormrage: Exactly. The same applies to you too. It might not be today, it might not even be this year. But you’ll cross paths with him again. You just have to. Just like I know I’ll get Grand Mystique. You just have to focus on how to get there, and a good start is by winning anything and everything you can. That way, you’ll cross paths with him again sooner or later, and who knows? Maybe it’ll be your Eurasian Title on the line, or maybe it’ll be the World title. But tonight is the first step towards that goal. That satisfaction.

I smile and look back at Mikey, shaking my head.

X: There’s no satisfaction. Satisfaction is the death of desire. Trust me, I want Steven Holmes more than anything, and not far behind is my want for the World championship. But if I achieve them, I’ll move on to a new target. It's taken me a while to realize it, but there it is.

I look back to the ring for a moment, picking my words very carefully.

X: And the new target I have in mind is becoming Eurasian champion.

Through the corner of my eye, I see Mikey nodding. He picks himself up, and offers me a hand, pulling me up from the ramps cold, metal surface.

Stormrage: Death of desire, huh? I’ll try and bear that in mind. Anyway, I’ll leave you to get ready. Best of luck tonight, man. Bring it on home.

X: That’s the plan. Good luck with Constantine, too.

Stormrage: Thanks. And remember what we said; you need back up, just say the word.

X: Appreciated. And likewise.

He heads back through the curtain as I remain on the ramp. As he does, Becky Serra walks through.

Serra: Hey X.

X: How’s it goin’, Becky?

Serra: Well, actually I was wondering if you wanted a quick interview. We have a space on the website for a ‘Before the Bell’ segment. Just something about your title match, if that’s okay?

X: Why the hell not?

Serra: Great!

She ushers over a cameraman and a sound man.

Serra: You ready?

I nod, as I sweep my hair back and place my cap back on. We turn so we have our backs to the entrance ramp, so the stage is in the background. The cameraman counts her in, and away we go.

Serra: Ladies and Gentleman, I’m joined at this time by Triple X. Now X, you face Mason Westhoff and the defending Eurasian Champion Rush later tonight. Your thoughts on the match?

I think on the question before answering, my hands pressed together with my fingertips resting on my chin.

X: Becky Serra, I’ll be completely honest with you. My initial thoughts when I saw the draw for Meltdown Madness was ‘is that it?’ I go from potential World Title contender to Eurasian title contender? I’ll hold my hands up and admit it; I may not have said it out loud, or even thought it, but subconsciously I was arrogant about it. I saw a match with three guys who’ve never won a singles title between them and thought ‘I got this’. And that arrogant train of thought led to complacency, as while I may be in the Championship match, I find myself sharing the number one contendership with one Mason Westhoff. And I’ll be even more honest when I say that I felt a small hint of disappointment at the match I’d ended up with. Such is my obsession with Steven Holmes that I felt I’d be better suited at biding my time, and waiting for the Lethal Lottery, or even the King for a Day match, just in case it led to crossing paths with him once more.

I move my hands away from my mouth and stare into the camera for a moment, before looking back at Becky.

X: But I thought about it, and I finally realized something. You see, as personal as it’s been between Steven Holmes and myself, deep down it’s always been about me proving myself. Not just against him, but to prove that I belong here, and that I’m one of the best wrestlers in the whole world. And tonight, against Rush and Westhoff, I get to prove that by winning the same championship that World Champions like Showtime Cougar, Drake Callahan, Big Dave and Ty Burna have all held. And, on top of that, by becoming only the second man in history to win both the Elite X Championship and the Eurasian Championship.

Serra: Well, speaking of your opponents, how big a challenge is it to face one of the most dominant champions in Eurasian title history, as well as another young, hungry superstar in Mason Westhoff? Two men who, frankly, have a huge size and strength advantage.

I look out past the camera to the ring; a small smile growing on my face.

X: Becky, I thrive on challenges. And tonight’s, as big of a cliché as this may sound, is my biggest one yet. ( I turn back to face Becky) First we have Mason Westhoff, who in his own right is a fantastic athlete, and was savvy enough to get the pin at the same time as I did to get here. But Mason is crippled by the fact that, well…frankly, he’s nothing more than Grand Mystique’s bitch. He went from leading the New Church to carrying the bags for The Sacrificial Altar. he may tell himself differently, but anyone with a set of eyes can see it. The question is can he get through the match without Mystique holding his hand? Now, I will admit that I fell victim to both of them on the last Meltdown, but Mason Westhoff needs to realize that tonight is totally different. He’s never faced me before when there’s something I want on the line, and when there is, I am a completely different animal. So Westhoff can pray all he likes for a ‘divine intervention’, but I don’t need any help from above.

I continue to stare at Becky for a moment, before staring back directly into the camera.

X: Then there’s the Eurasian Champion himself; Rush. In my opinion, the greatest Eurasian Champion of all time. Truth be told, I’ve never faced anyone like him before, just as I can assure you that he’s never faced anyone like me. Even so, I respect Rush the wrestler, and the old-school vibe he brings to the ring. But that’s just it; when I think of old school, I think of respect, and that’s not what I see when I look at Rush the person. Let me ask you; is it respectful to be against the fans who used to chant your name? Is it respectful to take a few weeks off without notifying WZCW management? Hell, is it respectful to saddle up with Sam Smith, who has repeatedly stated his disdain for WZCW, and his desire to tear it down from the inside. (I turn to Becky) Tell me Becky; is that respect? I sure as hell don’t think so.

I turn back to the camera and look directly into it.

X: Old school versus new school, past versus future, it makes no difference how it’s labeled. I’m walking down to that ring tonight and…actually, hey, camera guy, get a shot of that ring!

I point off camera, and the camera man hastily obliges, turning around to get the ring into view. I follow him round, as does Becky with her microphone.

X: You see, here’s what’s gonna happen. Rush; you’re gonna kick my ass, and I’m gonna kick your ass. Mason, you’re also gonna kick my ass, and I’m gonna kick your ass right back. And then, the both of you are gonna kick each other’s asses too. It’s going to be an all-out war between the three of us; there’s just no getting away from it. But the bottom line is this; when all is said and done, you’ll both be looking down from that ring to this spot, right here, and do you know what you’ll both see? You’ll be seeing the high flying, death-defying straight-edge superstar Triple X, holding my Eurasian Championship up high into the air.

A cocky smile stretches across my face at the thought of holding the championship in my hands, as I continue to stare into the camera.

X: It’s nothing personal, gentlemen. You’re just in my way.

 

[Muffin Top Merkley]

CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING ASSOCIATION
PROUDLY PRESENTS

SUMMERFEST XV

MADISON’S GARDEN SQUARE
AUGUST 24th, 1997

RUSH vs. CLIFF “THE HANGMAN” HANGER vs. MUSTANG HARRY
FOR THE INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP

JILLIAN YORK: The following match will be contested under triple threat rules and is scheduled for one fall for the C.W.A. INTERNATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP!

[YOUTUBE]C8QXcDu-2lE[/YOUTUBE]

Introducing first, from Deep In the Heart of Texas! He weights two hundred and sixty-nine pounds! MUSTANG! HARRY!

Boos rain down on Mustang Harry as he walks into the view of the audience. The jeers increase as he pauses at the top of the entrance ramp and returns the negative comments back towards those in attendance. Eventually, he continues his journey down towards the ring. He hesitates for a moment at the bottom of the ring steps before running up them to the ring. He walks along side the ring apron before stepping through the ropes and finally entering the ring.

The boos once again increase as the modern day gunslinger climbs the middle turnbuckle to once again taunt the crowd.

[YOUTUBE]9q4xmqlGBO8[/YOUTUBE]

JILLIAN YORK: And challenger number two! From Fort Lauderdale, Florida! Weighing in at two hundred and twenty pounds! CLIFF! “THE HANGMAN!” HANGER!”

The Hangman runs from one end of the stage to the other, embracing the live crowds support. He runs full speed down the entrance ramp and slides into the ring. He quickly jumps to his feel and instantly moves towards Harry who quickly exits the ring. Cliff’s attention turns from Harry back towards the live crowd who continue cheer the clear favourite.

Cliff’s fan interation comes to an end as the final competitor in the match’s music hits.

[YOUTUBE]UNCChG2RbDY[/YOUTUBE]

JILLIAN YORK: And their opponent! From Montreal, Quebec, Canada! Weighting three hundred and five pounds! He is the CURRENT C.W.A INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION! RUSH!

Cheers for Cliff Hanger transition back to boos as the champion appears. Rush ingnores the jeers and he methodically heads towards his opponents, his attention never leaving the ring. He stops at the bottom of the ramp, silently refusing to get in the ring despite the lone challenger in the ring pleading for him to enter and face him like a man. Cliff sits on the bottom rope and lifts the top rope up further encouraging the champion to enter.

Frustrated at the lack of cooperation from Rush, he backs away from the ropes only to be hit with a shoulder block from Mustang Harry to the back of the knee. Cliff’s body collapses to the ring and Rush smirks from the outside of the ring.

Harry, back on his feet, begins to drop repeated elbows across the back of the neck of the downed highflyer. Elbow after elbow hits its target until Mustang is content with his work. Harry confidently covers Cliff for the pin.

1…
2…

Rush breaks up the pin with an elbow drop of his own across the back of Harry. He stands up and removes the title belt from around his waist. Cliff rolls out of the ring as Rush passes the belt to the ring attendant outside the ring. Rush’s focus returns back to the Texan challenger who is now back to his feet.

Rush and Harry engage each other in a collar and elbow tie up; each man using their own strength in an attempt to gain the initial advantage on the other. After a brief standstill, Rush is able to muscle Harry back into the corner. The referee begins his five count to motivate Rush to back away from his opponent. The veteran takes advantage of every available second before releasing his hold and walking back to the center of the ring.

Rush screams with pure intensity towards Harry, proud of his ability to establish early dominance over his competitors. Deafening boos once again shower the men in the ring.

Slowly, the cowboy exits the corner. Both men circle each other, searching for an opening that is no where to be found. They inch closer to one another before once again locking in another collar and elbow. For a second time, Rush is able to prove his strength and he viciously throws Harry backwards and down to the mat.

He screams louder than before, this time taunting the crowd.

Harry gets to his a knee before rising back to his feet. He motions for a third tie up with the man who has already won the previous two match ups. Rush smirks at Harry’s foolish attempt and moves to engage his opponent who outsmarts the larger man by landing a quick low dropkick to Rush’s right knee, bringing the mountain to a knee. Harry quickly capitalizes by lifting Rush on his shoulders, setting him up for his Death Valley Driver finisher.

As soon as Rush is on Mustang’s shoulders, Cliff Hanger surprises both men by spring boarding himself off of the top rope from the outside of the ring and connecting with a missile dropkick to the face of the other challenger who falls backwards, bringing the champion down with him in a makeshift Samoan Drop.

The fans erupt as Cliff, looking to win this match early, springboards off of the middle rope and landing on top of Harry with a beautiful Moonsault. He lays on his target for the automatic pin.

1…
2..

Harry kicks out.

Cliff quickly repeats the middle rope Moonsault process only now, landing on Rush.

1…
2…

Rush kicks out.

Without missing a beat, Cliff returns his attention to Harry who he pulls to his feet before delivering a series of stiff kicks to both of Mustang’s legs. Each unblocked kick forces Mustang back step by step until the ring ropes impede him from moving back any further. A huge round front kick from The Hangman just misses its target who was wise enough to duck under it. Mustang Harry runs across the ring and bounces off of the opposite ropes which rebound him back towards Hanger who jumps in the air and lands sitting on top of the shoulders of Harry. With a quick, subtle shift of Cliff’s body weight, he is able to send Harry over the top rope and down to the floor with a head scissor take down.

Showing excellent ring awareness, Cliff jumps from the ring mat and lands perched on the top turnbuckle. He acknowledges the cheer of the crowd before getting poised to leap down to his opponent to is laying on the floor.

The roar from the crowd turns from one of support and encouragement to one of warning whey they notice that Rush has not only gotten to his feet, but is quickly making his way towards the daredevil.

The Hangman leaps off of the turnbuckle towards Rush and is able to pull of an impressive hurracanrana, sending the champion through the middle rope to the ground below and landing beside Mustang Harry on the outside of the ring.

The support of the crowd at the skill displayed by the risk takers reaches a deafening peak as they realize with Cliff that both of his opponents are outside the ring.

Rather than catching his breath and enjoying the referee’s ten count, the highflyer, fuelled by the excitement of the crowd, runs from one end of the ring to the other. The crowd all rise to their feet in unison as Cliff gracefully leaps over the top rope with another moonsault and lands onto his standing, but groggy opponents, sending all three bodies crashing to the floor.

The referee begins his count.

1…
2…
3…

Unsurpisingly, Cliff Hanger is the first of the three men to get to his feet. He slides into the ring and cheers along with the crowd.

4…
5…

Rush and Mustang Harry both use the ring apron to assist them in getting to their feet.

6…
7…

Harry begins to slide into the ring but Rush grabs his feet and pulls him back out causing him to fall to the floor.

8…

Rush slides under the bottom rope and enters the ring.

9…

Mustang finally is able to roll into the ring, narrowly beating the count of ten.

All three men now stand in the ring, seemingly waiting for the others to make the first move. It’s only a matter of time before Rush and Harry begin to plot together against the obvious fan favourite. Both men begin to move towards The Hangman but Rush stops allowing Mustang to initiate the first contact.

It’s not long after Harry and Cliff begin to trade punches back and forth before the cowboy is able to get the upper hand. He delivers an irish whip to Hanger which sends him across the ring, bouncing off of the ropes. As Cliff is rebounded back towards his attacker, he ducks under Mustang’s clothesline and bounces off of the opposite set of ropes. He leaps in the air and ends Mustang’s momentum with a flying forearm to the face. Both men lay on the mat. Without warning, Cliff kips up to his feet and immediately is put back down as Rush nearly takes his head off with a big boot before going for the pin.

1…
2…

The place once again goes crazy as Hanger somehow manages to kickout with less than half a second remaining. Rush, shocked that the match wasn’t over and the victory was still not his, gets to his feet and begins to argue with the referee who insists that his count was fair and correct.

An annoyed Rush returns to The Hangman, who quickly rolls up the champion with a small package!

1…
2…

Rush kicks out and quickly gets to his feet and delivers a series of forearms and punches to Hanger who is unable to get to his feet. He lays motionless before Rush picks him up with ease, his body is draped over Rush’s shoulders before being unceremoniously dumped to the floor.

Rush walks over to his other opponent and picks him up from the ring only to bodyslam him back down to where he came from. He picks him up again only to bodyslam him a second time. The third body slam is followed by the forth. Rush lifts Harry to his feet and locks in a Torture Rack submission hold in the center of the ring. Screams of pain escape Mustang’s mouth and his arms flail as his body is contorted backwards. The referee stays close, waiting for him to submit.

Rush begins to pace the ring, confident with him impending victory. He proudly walks around the ring with his prey slung across his shoulders, simultaneously adding further insult to injury and taunting the booing crowd.

He continues his arrogant parade, circling the inside of the ring for a second time but ventures too close to the ropes as Mustang is able to will his remaining strength and energy to not quit but grab onto his saving grace in the form of the top rope and pull himself off. Rush, confused as to what has happen to the wrestler in his possession, turns around and sees Mustang Harry running at full speed towards him. Out of pure desperation, Rush grabs the referee by his shirt and pulls the official in front of him as a human shield. With no other option, the referee takes the full force of Mustang’s Spear which folds him in half.

Harry and the referee both collapse to the mat as Rush’s head snaps backwards due to the Superkick from Cliff Hanger that perfectly found its mark across the champion’s face.

The crowd erupts as Cliff makes the pin on Rush. With the referee down and unable to make the count, the crowd makes the unofficial count.

1…
2…
3…
4…
5…
6…

Hanger, visibly frustrated that there is no referee to make the legal count, gets up to check on the official’s condition. Seeing that he is out cold and unable to continue, he quickly yells to the backstage area, motioning for another referee to come to the ring to officiate the remainder of the match.

Minutes pass before a new referee sprints from backstage and slides into the ring. Cliff immediate resumes his pin on the champion and the referee makes his count.

1…
2…

A collective groan of disappointment and disbelief comes from the crowd as Rush is somehow able to escape the pin.

Cliff is astonished that he once again was unable to win the match to become the new champion. He pounds on the ring out of frustration, unsure of what else he could possibly do to keep either man down for the pin. He stand up and holds onto the top rope for leverage as he uses his feet to push Rush from the ring.

The Hangman walks over to Mustang and places him on his feet. A series of chops echo throughout the arena as they land across the chest of the other challenger. He picks Harry up off of the ground and drops him across his knee for a backbreaker. Exhausted, he pauses before the cheers of the audience encourage him to continue with his attack. He jumps into the air and hits a standing Senton Splash. He uses his forward momentum to leap to the top turn buckle before encouraging everyone in the audience to their feet.

Gracefully, he leaps off. Flashes from thousands of cameras throughout the entire arena go off in an attempt to capture his top rope Moonsault which lands perfectly on its target. His body remains on Harry’s for the pin and the new referee begins his count.

1…
2…

The second referee is pulled outside of the ring by Rush who follows up by throwing the referee over the announce table to the floor.

Rush is toppled to the ground by a flying Hangman who has once again put himself into harm’s way and jumped over the top rope landing on Rush. Cliff slides back into the ring and is greeted with a Big Boot to the face by Mustang.

Mustang pulls Hanger back to his feet and whips him into the ropes. As Cliff returns to Mustang off of the rebound, he is thrown straight into the air and left to crash down to the mat below. Again, the grounded highflyer is placed on his feet and whipped across the ring. He returns to Mustang and anticipates the throw into the air and is able to land behind Harry. As Harry turns around, he turns around directly into a Superkick.

The place erupts again; sure that The Hangman has finally won the match. The audience gets louder and Cliff debates if he should go for the immediate pin or to the top turnbuckle to put another nail in his opponent’s preverbal coffin.

Ever the showman, he opts to climb to the top.

Slowly he stands and ensures his balance.

He jumps off.

In what seems as almost slow motion, he rotates backwards in midair before crashing to his opponent below with a Shooting Star Press.

He hooks the leg of Mustang Harry as the original referee who has finally come though begins his count.

1......




2…….




The pin is broken up by Rush who hits The Hangman across the back of the head with his Championship Belt.

All three wrestlers lay in the middle of the ring as the referee finally calls for the bell to signify the end of the match.

The crowd boo louder than they ever have throughout this entire contest at what has transpired at the end of such a great contest.

JILLIAN YORK: Ladies and gentleman, the winner of the match by DISQUALIFICATION!

CLIFF! “THE HANGMAN”! HANGER!

Boos quickly turn to cheers and the world hears their hero being declared the victor.

JILLIAN YORK: But! Since championships cannot change hands due to disqualification or count outs… STILL! C.W.A. INTERNATIONAL CHAMPION! RRRRRUUUUSSSSHHHHH!!!

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[Color=RoyalBlue3] Competing in triple threat matches is nothing new to a ring veteran like myself but it is apparently the newest ploy by WZCW’s management to release my grip on their precious EurAsian Championship. A championship, just like the Sam Smith’s Elite X Title that they so desperately need returned to them so that they can possess another carrot to dangle just out of the reach of the sheep that they command.

I have wrestled and beat an endless amount of men just like Triple X and Mason Westhoff and I have retreated to some dark places to do whatever I could to retain my championship in the past.

It was the moniker of champion that I desperately sought and I did everything that I had to do to earn that namesake and build my legacy.

Now, my legacy has been cemented. I am a guaranteed first-ballot Hall of Famer who happens to hold the WZCW EurAsian Championship. Ironically, I no longer need nor want this championship to elevate my status in the world of professional wrestling but I refuse to let go. I am more than willing and able to go to use extreme measures to go to deeper and darker places than I have ever gone to before to keep it away from management, the fans and the garbage below me on the roster.

I refuse to let this title sink back to mediocrity after I have brought it out of the dark ages. I have separated this championship from the vultures and losers of its Sports Entertaining past and have transformed it to the professional wrestling Championship that this world desperately needed once again.

I don’t need the EurAsian Championship like Mason Westhoff needs his higher power or Triple X needs his next high.

I don’t need the EurAsian Championship as much as WZCW needs me to lose it.​

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