Battle For Toronto
Casanova English vs. Seifer Black
A well-deserved interim period was well underway. Eight matches removed and three young adults all in their early twenties are gathered around by the ringside area in anticipation for the pre main-event. The lighting in the Ted Reeve arena would soon dim, ushering in what these three wrestling fans would describe as a potentially one-off match.
“Hey guys, why do you think that they’re still booking this Battle for Toronto, battle for anywhere, nonsense?” Ted asked.
Ted was in the middle of the three, the youngest and most ill-educated of the three. He was your typical good boy; white, clean-shaven, hardworking, Canadian national. Kenny to his left was tattooed from neck to toe, resembling a post-punk era appeal. He was the smartest of the three about wrestling matters. Jean, the third, was of French decent, a half-cast Canadian, and was the most cultured wrestling fan of the three, having seen plenty of shows around the world.
“There’s always some sappy ‘Wrestling Mom’ that’ll eat this up,” Kenny responded, believing to know the business better than those in it. “It’s all about money, money, money.”
“Seifer’s actually had history with The Orphanage. He faced Cambridge at the last pay-per-view.”
“Who won?” Ted asked.
“Who’d ya’ think, idiot?” Kenny replies.
“Pretty sure Cambridge got his ass handed to him,” Jean answers.
“Sir William Cambridge,” Kenny inserts.
“Cheers Jean,” Ted mocked.
“It’s pronounced John to me,” Jean clarifies.
“Surely Casanova’s not going to lose twice in a row? He’s going to be feeling pretty naked without the belt.”
“Commentary are probably asking the same thing, but you’re better than them, right Kenny?” Jean questions.
“Damn straight,” Kenny says in total confidence. “I think they’re both brain-dead. Monkeys could do their job.”
“You’re first in line then,” Jean declares.
“I dunno about English, I’ve never really been into him,” Ted voices, changing course back to the next match. Kenny and Jean both turn their heads inward, shocked that their friend would admit that. Kenny tries to slap his friend, but Ted isn’t having any of it.
“Not everyone’s on his hype train, you know,” Ted explains. “It’s kind of cringy, the smoking and swearing, the typical stable.”
“Typical... Stable…” Kenny says, anger in his voice surfacing.
“Well yeah, they’re just douchebags, aren’t they?”
“Let’s not to overly critical, if we’re talking cringy, we’ve just got to look at the new champ,” Jean butts in. “All those selfies, it’s not original.”
“You’re just not enlightened about wrestling,” Kenny aims towards Ted.
“I know what I like, and just because English is over with the prototype mark, doesn’t mean that I have to buy into his crap.”
“You really don’t watch this stuff enough, Teddy,” Kenny states, both of them slightly irritated by Kenny’s arrogance.
“That’s elitist,” Ted nails. “You’re as generic as The Orphanage. You’re about their combined weight, too.”
“You little sh----,” Kenny says, the boys heated argument coming to a slight halt when Kenny witnesses a little girl five metres away, crying. Crying, not because of them, but because her jiggalo of a mother was ignoring her. The poor girl had gained a giant headache because of the strobe lights and the bass of music and people’s cheers. She just wasn’t built for a bumper ten match card. Kenny was reserved, taking the high road, believing his knowledge to be superior.
“Well who are you into then, Ted?” Kenny asks. “The vanilla scoops? Ace, Scarlet Flint, Tyler Storm?”
“What’s so wrong with them? Not everybody is there to be judged by marks like you,” Ted says, with the slightly drunk boys on the verge of becoming their own main-event.
“Stop arguing, ladies,” Jean says, playing peace-maker. “We’ve been spoilt tonight.”
“True,” they both say at the same time.
“We can all agree on one thing, however. Ryder Blade’s a piece of work.”
“Ryder vs. Val three PPV’s in a row?” Ted asks.
“They still want Ryder as champ, so no,” Kenny says with a calmer tone. The two slightly reconcile over their hatred of the Xcel Champion, and it’s just in time for the lights to fade.
Jerry Heisenberg: Ladies and gentleman, this next match is set for one-fall and it is a Battle of Toronto between two of Canada’s finest…
The lights go dim as the eerie voice of a former member of the notorious Manson Family rings through the arena. The three boys are standing to attention, as is the world, as the first formal wrestling appearance of the former Visionaries World Champion. Axel Reid and Ruby Parvati are by ringside calling the action as usual.
Axel Reid: Time has finally come, and boy it must have been a dreadful two weeks for the former champ, Casanova English. Coming back to Canada without the golden strap.
Ruby Parvati: What a main event we were witness at Breakthrough two weeks ago, and tonight’s been no different. English is back amongst the chasing pack, and he’s got some chasing to do. We witnessed a fantastic encounter for the Xcel Championship, and we’ve seen the Quest for the Case get serious. English has to do better, he is after all the chosen leader of the Orphanage. Those guys don’t play about or attempt to show weakness.
Axel Reid: But it’s not just about Casanova tonight, he’s up against Seifer Black, also a Canadian native, and Seifer’s coming off a brilliant win at Fate of the Gods.
Ruby Parvati: But he’s been in Casanova’s shadow because of the event with Ziu Zhong. He’s probably carrying that baggage into tonight’s match.
Axel Reid: Don’t bang that drum. No one is standing in English’s shadow. He’s just like everybody else now, exposed to the entire roster who’ll be wanting to make the most of his downfall.
"yeah, I remember her saying:
I'm already dead... I'm already dead... I'm already dead..."
The lights flicker, but nothing. They continue to flicker until the revealing of Casanova English on the stage. The crowd boos loudly as the voice continues, but there is a very distinct adult male voice cheering. Kenny and Jean are two of the men cheering on their true champion.
"You're going to get up and scream. I'm already dead... I'm already dead... I'm already dead..."
You're going to get up and-
Burn an x in your head."
Pyro blasts off and the lights turn back on as Casanova English takes a long drag off his already lit cigarette, his leather jacket hung loosely over his shoulders. He scowls at the crowd before walking down the ramp slowly. English stops to blow smoke in the general direction of some fans before slowly strutting up the steps onto the ring apron. He hangs his jacket on the turnbuckle before stepping through the second rope. English smirks pulling the cigarette from his lips, he blows a cloud of smoke straight up into the air and tosses his coffin nail into the crowd. English laughs as people move trying to avoid the ember.
Axel Reid: We’re at the business end of Breakthrough, and its business as usual for English. He’s got a point to prove and being out here alone tonight.
Ruby Parvati: Canada’s really making a case for outshining New York. VOW was a part of a special few months in the state, but tonight’s crowd has been tremendous.
At ringside Kenny was just inches away from being hit by English’s cigarette. Despite it being a disgusting act, the wrestling addict was in ecstasy that he was so close to a moment involving English.
“How can you not be cheering this man?” Kenny asks Ted.
“I’d rather drink my own piss than endure more of English. He’s dominated screen-time, for whatever reason. He’s definitely sucking Omega’s balls backstage.”
“You literally have no appreciation,” Kenny says, his anger returning.
“That’s not classy, you just bend over whenever a heel presents himself.”
Jean as ringside was sipping on his beer, just enjoying the moment, being immersed into the product whilst his bickering friends took themselves out of the moment, all in the name of their self-involvement.
Jerry Heisenberg: And his opponent, the champion...Standing in at 5 feet and 11 inches, weighing in at an even 200 pounds...From Toronto, Ontario, Canada...He is the leader of The Orphanage..."THE MODERN DAY MESSIAH" CASSSSAAANOOOVAAAA ENNNNGGGLLIISSHHH
Suddenly “Firestarter” by Sepultura blasts out of the PA system and as the guitar hits, fire explodes from the stage in time with the music till the guitar gets more frantic and the last pyro blast reveals Seifer Black standing behind it as the fans go wild. The ovation was louder than English’s, but was mostly by girls and the wider audience that just wanted to be entertained.
Ruby Parvati: Seifer’s really got the crowd up on their feet. He’ll be the first to get a crack at the former title holder whilst he’s vulnerable.
Axel Reid: There might not be a better time to be facing English. Seifer’s got to capitalise on this momentum and make sure he puts another nail in the coffin.
Ruby Parvati: Might also be the worst time to face him.
Back at ringside, there was a panic of support for Seifer by the crying girl and her overly enthusiastic mother. Sitting beside them is a black male with bushy hair, but he’s jotting note’s down on his smartphone. A journalist at work. The three boys don’t pay attention to the American, they just knew he wasn’t from the area just looking at his clothing and general look. Kenny had decrypted that he was from the New York area, and was probably a reporter covering the event.
“I’ll never understand why people like Seifer keep getting support,” Kenny begins.
“You don’t think he’s World Championship material, do you?” Jean responds. “It’s not about that, you know. These guys just do it for the pay-check.”
“The bigger pay-checks are in the main events,” Ted adds. “Isn’t that where Seifer is, know-it-all?”
“Only by default,” Kenny is adamant.
“You’re such a douchebag,” Ted escalates. “Give this guy his credit, all these guys have been doing this a long time. They don’t need you shoving their work down their throats.”
“I’m right though, Seifer’s not going to win the belt.
“Zhong did,” Jean adds, “and most people loved the moment.”
“If Zhong can win the belt, I can breathe in space,” Kenny says in failed humour.
“You can?” Ted asks. “I’m eager to field test that exact idea.”
“You know what I mean. Let’s face it, we all know English is getting a rematch, that’s what we’ll be seeing at Heatstroke.”
“I dunno, I’ve heard they’ve got something big in the works for the pay-per-view,” Jean theorises.
“Ask that guy next to me,” Kenny indicates. “He’s got to be some form of media.”
“That’s Chris McCarthy,” Jean enlightens, “how’d you not know that?”
“I’m not interest then,” Kenny quips.
“He knows he’d get schooled,” Ted says in confidence to Jean.
“You’re right,” the Frenchman replies in giggling laughter.
Jerry Heisenberg: And his opponent, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada...standing in at 6 foot 7 and weighing in at 250 pounds! “The Archangel”...Seifer...Black!
Taking a few steps forwards, Black points out to the crowd getting them more pumped up before running down the ramp clapping hands with the fans and doing a lap around the ring clapping more hands before getting back to the bottom of the ramp running at the ring and sliding in under the bottom rope. Casanova does the professional thing, taking his place in one of the four turnbuckles, allowing the entrance, not wanting to waste any energy he didn’t have to before the match. As Seifer gets a home crowd cheer from the Ontario faithful, the lights slowly raise as Jerry Heisenberg clears the ring, leaving only the two Canadian’s and the referee.
“Ring the bell!” the referee is heard saying as the two opponents are facing off for an extended time to draw in the heat of the crowd. Both aren’t oblivious to the stakes so they understand tonight’s pressure. As the referee gestures to ringside the match officially gets underway but the tension isn’t quick fading like the chimes of the bell. Seifer and English are eyeing one another up, attempting to build the stakes. As professionals they also realised that after a long intermission they were providing a stalling tactic so they could get as many eyes on them as possible.
Typical niceties for the spectators are in full swing. To build up the enthusiasm and chanting the two of them circle one another in the ring. Thudding and scuffling of the boots on the ring mat ping how concentrated the former World Champion and The Archangel are. Both at a similar height, it’s tense until they lock up in the middle of the ring, an old school move from veterans. Seifer gets the better of English by hip-tossing him towards the left hand side of the ring; the side closer to the titantron. English comes back hard and strong, this time locking up and hitting with a few flying knees. Without any safety precaution going through his head, Casanova flings Seifer into the ring ropes in dangerous fashion. Typically smirking as you’d do in the ring, Seifer dodges the steel ring post, but lands hard on the middle pad of the turnbuckle. It’s embarrassing for Seifer, who turns with heat in his voice as he goes to shout at Casanova, but the Messiah uses this time to hit him with an upwards swing, before dropping Black with a Russian Leg Sweep.
Ruby Parvati: That did not look safe. English is showing no respect for his fellow man. Then again, it’s not beyond him.
Axel Reid: Seifer’s been dropped by the sweep, giving the champ an immediate advantage in the ring. It’s importance cannot be understated, English now has the chance to dictate the match how he wants.
Ruby Parvati: I’m pretty sure the former champ is going to lay down a marker after losing the strap, and who better to do it in front of.
Axel Reid: Seifer’s back up to his feet, but clutching the back of the head. Mind games from English, for sure.
The play-by-play commentator was slow with his remarks. Seifer was already back up to his feet and the two had proceeded to figuring each other out once more. The opening phase was done to build tension and excitement, and it certainly galvanised the audience into fledging even more support towards the Archangel.
English, as Reid had suggested, was able to apply a standard arm bar to Seifer, but the determined Black turned English over onto his feet. The strength shown to pull English over onto his feet could have backfired; Casanova was in prime position to hit a running knee, or an equally brutal equivalent but instead Black was quicker, begin a series of chops that transitioned perfectly into Seifer grabbing English and whipping him into the ropes. English came back, pace a plenty, and was the recipient of a smooth drop-kick. Building off his hype train, Seifer used this opportunity to grind down his short-breathed opponent with even more chops, following up by standing back, rolling in the ring and pouncing with a Koppu Kick. A dazed English had momentarily stepped back, selling the transaction with perfection, allowing for Seifer to tease the set up for a signature move. Seifer balls up his arm and tries the Backfist from the Future, but the shot was an obvious decoy that English ate up, tossing Black out of the ring.
“Why do wrestlers always fall for the possum?” Kenny asks, already knowing the answer.
“Please don’t turn this into anything,” Jean replies, just a few metres away from Seifer as he regroups in the ring. Both Jean and Kenny watch as Ted boos English as he provides pageantry in the ring.
“Wrestling won’t get better until they stop treating us for children,” Kenny says.
“You’re never happy, are you?” Jean asks. “Who hurt you when you were younger for you to come to these shows and ask those questions?”
“Any excuse to get back from English’s smoke-breath, I guess,” Ted finally adds, mocking the tastefulness of the former champion.
Black begins a cycle around the ring as admiring fans and kids are distracted from the gleeful English, who knows that his opponent is feeling the pressure of being the first to face a champion looking for a shred of redemption.
“1…
…2
….3
…….4
………..5
……………..6
………………….7”
The referee’s count only reaches seven until Black re-enters the ring, but his approach is wise as he keeps close to the ring-ropes, away from the clutched arms of English. The two lock-up again, a regular theme emerging from the show, but the pace of the match begins to show as Black wins a dual and is the one to whip English into the ropes again. English holds onto the ropes, which leads Black onto a charge with a clothesline in mind, but ever the wiser, English shoulder charges Black. The result is Black reads the advance and jumps over English, twisting mid-air and landing on the outside of the ring. Black grabs Casanova’s neck and hits a snapped reverse DDT, with English’s neck hitting the bottom rope. Sliding back into the ring, with English coughing and holding his neck, Black tries a cover.
……..1!
…. No!
The two was never an option, as English powered out. Building on further motion-in-action Seifer grabs the Messiah by the neck, putting English in greater pain and whips him into the ropes. English takes a step out but Seifer replies with an uppercut chop that leaves a long reel. English cannot help this time as Seifer is able to execute a signature move. One by one, the patented Machine Gun Chops each bring a slither of torture. English by all accounts is left with a dizzy head, and a red chest, staring at the flood lighting that becomes increasingly blurred. An entire minute elapses where Seifer’s relentless in-ring work leads to a giant pop as he finishes up with English.
Axel Reid: The Machine Gun Chops have levelled Casanova English, and Seifer’s beloved Ontario crowd are eating all of it up.
Ruby Parvati: English looks like he’s been out in the sun too long. No need for a waxing appointment in the morning.
Axel Reid: I couldn’t imagine such pain.
Ruby Parvati: You don’t know pain, Reid.
Axel Reid: You can’t define pain just by physical exhaustion and torture.
Ruby Parvati: I get it. You’re a pansy. A pansy with whiskers.
Axel Reid: See, you hurt me just then.
Ruby Parvati: A doll with emotions.
Axel Reid: A good looking one at that.
Ruby Parvati: Your hair does look like it come from a box.
Axel Reid: True pain, ladies and gentleman. Though it’s hard to classify every woman in this building as a lady, right Ruby?
Ruby Parvati: You make it up for the both of us, sweetheart.
Whilst the commentary team relax, in full motion at Breakthrough in this sub main-event, the only way to survive sometimes is to laugh at your own expense. That’s the move Seifer Black employs, realising that to gain victory over English, he’s to actually bring a smile to the Visionaries audience that’ve been subject to a lengthy reign of The Orphanage.
“Hey, fellas, it’s looking all doom and gloom for your bestie,” Ted mocks.
“Ted we’re in the big-league matches now. Your pre-show wank match is a thing of the past,” Kenny replies with guile in his voice, sick that Ted deliberately plays with something Kenny loves ever so much, and right now he wasn’t loving the idea that somebody like Seifer Black was taking it to one of his favourite Visionaries.
“Just you wait, bell-chop, Seifer can’t hold a candle to English or his regime,” Kenny furthers.
“Pretty sure that regime died with Zhong last Breakthrough,” Jean says in confidence, his eyes fully on the match as Seifer looks to set up the first finish of the match.
“Hey guys, why doesn’t this Archangel guy have many submission moves?” Ted asked.
“His loss,” Kenny answers. “Seifer’s all high-octane. People like that always crash and burn.”
Seifer doesn’t wait about to put his stamp of approval on the match, launching with all the fury and conviction he has in successfully delivering the Fade to Black. The Burning Hammer move seemingly comes out of nowhere but it’s enough to level English, the first man in danger of losing this match.
Axel Reid: Boom! Seifer Black with a shot at immortality.
Ruby Parvati: SEIFER REID IS GOING TO STEAL THIS!
With a giant crowd at the Ted Reeve on his side, they go ballistic as Black covers the former Visionaries World Champion.
….. ONE!
…….. TWO!
…. KICK-OUT!!!
“Did you really think he’d go down that easily?” Kenny suggests.
“God-damn it, Ted adds.
“It’s been one-sided thus far though, Kenny, Seifer’s holding his own against the internet’s favourite.” Jean couldn’t believe they’d even tempt fate, he didn’t believe Seifer would have stood a chance tonight.
“Still baffles me that people are into Casanova or any of his friends. They’re more life in a rotting tomato,” Ted inserts.
“I’m getting sick of your belittling,” Kenny adds.
“You’ll know when I’m belittling, I’ll do it right to your face,” Ted says, standing up for himself.
The Archangel gets to his feet and brings Casanova with him. Screaming into English’s ear, the momentum was red hot for Black and had to tread carefully.
Axel Reid: I can’t believe what we’re watching right now, Seifer Black is on the verge of victory against Casanova English.
Ruby Parvati: The Messiah is lost at sea right now, he’s got to show his dogged resilience if he’s to stay in this one.
Axel Reid: The crowd have really played their part in this one tonight, Seifer Black has channelled the Canadians loathing of their former World Champion, and he’s dictated the proceedings with ease.
Ruby Parvati: Looks are often deceiving though. This one isn’t over until it’s over.
Axel Reid: Get off those clichés, English doesn’t always deserve our praise.
Ruby Parvati: It beats listening to your vanilla voice all night.
Axel Reid: Now that’s just uncalled for.
English is flapping his arms about, all in an attempt to break the tight bear-hold Seifer has on him. Black though gets English and whips him against the ropes, also an often occurrence in this match. There is no way back into the ring this time as the clothesline from Seifer works. English rolls against the northern barricades, right in front of Kenny, Jean, and Ted. Thee first few rows all stand up as Seifer roars into the air, to a delightful response from the loving crowd. Seifer then begins a short run towards the ropes and leaps.
Axel Reid: Somersault Dive!!! It connects beautifully.
Ruby Parvati: English is laid out for the count.
Getting to his feet immediately, Seifer is holding a lower portion of his back, showing wear and tear in this match as he continues his assault on Casanova English. Just as before the referee was on hand to call a count-out.
...1
......2
……..3
……………..4
………………..5
……………………..6
…………………………..7
…………………………………..8!
At the count of eight, Seifer turns, picking both him and Casanova English up, sliding the latter into the ring. Seifer joins immedieteldy afte, but once in the ring the referee has to stay vigilant as English locks Seifer’s legs and rolls him up.
…. ONE!
…………. TWO!
……….. THR----
Axel Reid: Seifer shows enough of his concentration levels to ensure he stays alive in this one.
Ruby Parvati: English has been thrown a life-line of his own making.
Axel Reid: Ruby, look. Seifer can’t roll out, he’s knotted his left leg between Seifer, and he’s got him pinned to the mat one way of another. Seifer’s got his back to Casanova.
With intensity and precision Casanova begins drilling repeated elbows into Seifer’s back until he can get himself into a pinning predicament again. Seifer’s back and English’s chest are around the same colour once he was done.
Axel Reid: You can just see with the lethality of the elbows, that English was out for revenge on what happened to him earlier on in the match. He’s looking for that even playing field.
Ruby Parvati: That’s one man right there that doesn’t know what an even playing field looks like. He’s designed to have his back up, his support, when times get tough.
Axel Reid: Still tough, to be champion, you’ve got to have moments where it’s just you are your depth. You don’t make it this far up the ladder unless you can show that you’ve been on both sides of the coin, both sides of giving all he’s got and taking it.
Ruby Parvati: But some can still be sheltered from the rain, sheltered by other people. Let’s not believe that Casanova got here by being a patron saint. He got here by ripping through the roster with his careless, methodical attitude. The man literally doesn’t care if the world sees him as the biggest ass. I think he prefers it.
Eventually Seifer rolls out and the crowd are back at square one. Both men, one wearier than the other, across the ring from one another. Only the anticipation of an end-game grew larger in the vocal audience.
“Now we’re getting into the real meat of tonight!” An elated Kenny sings to his friends.
“You were quite a minute ago, mate,” Ted jabs. “You only sing when you’re winning?”
“Don’t Pidgeon hole me with that crap. You’re the naïve one believing Seifer’s got a living hope of walking out of here with another tick against his victories. That is he has any.”
“Kenny, Seifer won at the last PPV,” Jean illuminates.
“Damn, I keep forgetting that.”
Another lock-up was bound to happen. Punches are exchanged with rapid succession. Seifer manages to incorporate a kick that brings English to a knee, but that move was his worst nightmare on this occasion, lending English the opportunity to get behind his opponent and land with a Back Drop. This time English goes back to the well of using repeated elbows to a section of his opponent. Mounted but with his shoulders in the air, acting as a blocking mechanism, English has four seconds of luxury with punches until the referee would come in and break up the action.
“One…
……….Two!
………..Three!
………….Four!
Break! Break it up English.”
“Casanova now slithers to his feet, Seifer in hand, grabbed by the neck. This time, Seifer is sent for a run-out and is forced into the ropes, this time English has his own agenda, and raises an arm in the air for a punch, but Seifer wasn’t buying it. Ducking the closed shot, and rebounding from the paralleled rope, English is stunned by another wave of assault. Before he could even register a thought to his head, he was laying flat, staring up at the spotlights, wondering where it all went wrong.
Axel Reid: Blackout Clothesline!!! Seifer Black has laid out the champion, again!
Ruby Parvati: Seriously, where’d it all blow up in smoke for English to be riding high, and now he’s here, lying flat. He must be having some terrible thoughts running through his head right now. He’s on the verge of loss against a fellow Canadian soldier.
Axel Reid: Should Seifer build on this, English’s fall from grace will be complete.
Axel heads up to the top rope and the fans know exactly what is coming! He spends a second looking for the final push of vocal encouragement across the line, before he leaps with style!
Axel Reid: Black Eclipse! Black Eclipse! Seifer’s on the verge on victory here in the battle for Toronto!
Ruby Parvati: Words cannot describe what we’re witnessing.
The effect of the Moonsault means that English gets straight up to his feet again, just out of instinct. Knowing what was coming, Seifer finished the job.
Axel Reid: FADE TO BLACK! AGAIN!
Ruby Parvati: We are not watching this right now!
Seifer roars as he covers English, this time knowing the game was up.
…… ONE!
………….. TWO!
……….. THREE!!
Seifer Black gets a huge ovation as he drops in utter dis-belief at what he’s just witnessed. He remains lifting his arms up in the air, but his theme music isn’t playing.
“Casanova’s lost! HE ACTUALLY LOST, AGAIN!” Ted says with ecstasy.
“I can’t believe this,” Kenny responds, quietly.
“You don’t have too, the ref didn’t ring the bell.” Jean adds
“What’d the hell he see?” Ted questions.
“HE HAD HIT FOOT ON THE ROPE! SUCK IT TEDDY BEAR!”
Axel Reid: Seifer thinks he’s won!
Ruby Parvati: I can’t believe this one isn’t over.
Axel Reid: I don’t think it’s sunk in, not to the crowd or Seifer Black.
The referee is making it clear that he had reversed the three count to Seifer Black, and his disappointment was compounded when the opportunist struck with venom. Casanova races to his feet, and in one motion lifts Seifer Black up, realising that he’s gotten his opponent in a choke. Casanova plunges, extinguishing the hope and light of Toronto!
Axel Reid: SILENCE OF THE LAMB CONNECTS! Seifer was caught off guard, just for one second, and pays the heaviest price!
Ruby Parvati: Normality, restored. Surely.
Axel Reid: English is going to snatch victory from under the nose, and win this battle!
…… ONE!
……….. TWO!
…………… THREE!
Jerry Heisenberg: Ladies and gentleman, the winner of the match via submission; THE MODERN DAY MESSIAH" CASSSSAAANOOOVAAAA ENNNNGGGLLIISSHHH!!
"You're going to get up and scream. I'm already dead... I'm already dead... I'm already dead..."
You're going to get up and-
Burn an x in your head."
“Real Solution #9”, the pulsating and catchy riff from White Zombie, blares as reality sets in that the battle for Toronto belongs to Casanova English. Seifer lays stunned in the ring as English rolls out of the ring, severely hurt, realising he’s dodged a huge bullet tonight.
Axel Reid: Somewhere in the back are a proud cult following of English’s, saluting this victory.
Ruby Parvati: It perhaps wasn’t what people expected, but it was one hell of an encounter. A must-have match given that we’re in Canada for the foreseeable future.
Axel Reid: The Archangel falls tonight, but if he continues with performances like tonight, then he’ll rise once more. Brilliant showing from both men.
Ruby Parvati: On such kind words, let’s look at some of these frantic highlights.
Axel Reid: Stay tuned, the Visionaries of Wrestling are one commercial break away from the first ever six-man main event tag team match.
Ruby Parvati: We have been spoilt tonight. Well and truly spoilt.
Axel Reid: That Ruby, that’s something we can both agree on.
Ruby Parvati: Here, here!
“Are both of you happy?” Ted asks.
“English really had us on the ropes with that one,” Kenny adds.
“Next round on you, Teddy Bear?” Jean adds.
“Yeah, Ryder Blade’s coming up. Worthy of a piss break, am I right?”
“Think I might join you,” Kenny adds.
“Aww, look at you two, all getting along again,” Jean adds. “All it takes is a preppy, illiterate douchebag that’s got pebbles for balls.”
“Now we can drink to that.”
As Casanova English makes his final retreat from the ring, completely ignoring the Canadian fan base, White Zombie fades, and the mood lighting is lifted. There were only minutes until Breakthrough’s main event. Axel Reid and Ruby Parvati couldn’t wait.
The waiting is over.
