Barbed Wire Ladder Match

[M BISON]

Guys, I never made a reserving limit clear, but it should take you two hours to do a decent post, so that's it. If you say "Posting", then take longer than two hours, someone can take your turn. I'm stating this to avoid this match turning into EVERY EVAN FALLEN ANGEL MATCH EVER.

EDIT: Oh, and there's leeway for computer lag and stuff, so as long as you're at least down to your last paragraph when you have a problem, feel free to hit Despy or I up on MSN or through a PM to request an extra 15 minutes or so.

Ped, finish your post and then the match can go on as normal.

[Chris Pederoso]

“New Day” by Adelitas Way had just finished playing and now all six competitors stand in the ring. Each combatant eyeing the prized briefcase that hangs above the centre of the ring. The excitement radiates throughout the arena as every paying fan in the oddly name Cow Palace stands on their feet, anticipating the first reaction of the superstars. A lot of tension is built up in the ring as Czarina stares down her nemesis; the Italian Goth. As he steps up to the centre of the ring, Czarina responds the this challenge and steps up to meet him. As she does, the manipulative Darkrites reaches out and grabs the head of the Satan worshipper before launching her over the top rope towards the announce team. The remaining five superstars then scatter to get a ladder.

::Jimmy::
Woah, watch out……….Man, Czarina’s head just bounced off our announce table.

::Ray::
SON OF A BITCH!! That coffee cost me three dollars and now it’s all over my crotch. Get her Winthorp.

Czarina indeed crashes into the announce table at full force, quickly followed out of the ring by the Italian Goth. The Satan Worshipper leans upon the table trying desperately to get to her feet but, alas, Darkrites follows up by slamming her head once again off the table. Czarina is dragged off the table and thrown to one side momentarily in order to give Winthorp enough time to give a childish giggle and the dark coloured crotch of Ray White, who is now furious. Never the less, Winthorp continues his path of destruction, viciously throwing the stunned Czarina into the lightly padded security rail shoulder first. The sacrificing Czarina falls to the floor, favouring her injured shoulder and upper-arm, looking up at the merciless Italian. The Goth then strikes the injured shoulder with a stiff kick, followed up with another, causing Czarina to roll over cautiously around to the other side of the ring, where Psycho Savage and the Hardcore Angel are doing battle.

::Jimmy::
Oh man, Czarina has taken early damage. She could now be out of contention. How the hell is she going to climb the ladder and retrieve that briefcase?

::Ray::
Serves her right, that coffee was fucking hot, my penis may now be sterile. Wait, who’s that?

A civilian like man comes walking down the aisle and around the ring towards the dynamic commentating duo. As he gets closer, the man was more visible and turned out to be Ricky Valencia. He then puts on the spare set of headphones and joins the two behind the table.

::Jimmy::
Mr Valencia, Very nice to meet you, love the show.

::Ricky::
Don’t kiss arse, s’not cool. I’m here to watch my man win the contract and nothing more so shut up and let me watch.

::Ray::
My kinda guy.

Ricky had arrived just in time to see Chris conducting a monstrous beat down on his old nemesis; the Proeliator. Proeliator is pinned against the guard rail half way up the ramp as Chris begins throwing continuous and devastating body blows. Pro covers up as best he can but to no prevail as Pederoso launches lefts and rights to the ribs and then to the face. Pederoso then takes a few steps back from the seemingly defenceless Proeliator and then sprints towards him at full pace. Chris extends his right arm in order to send Pro over the guard rail but it wasn’t to be as the veteran Proeliator sidesteps the oncoming Spaniard, sending Pederoso over the guard rail and into the audience of the Cow Palace. The now miraculously revived Pro then follows Ped over the Guard rail as they both head towards the back of the arena. This turned out to be quite a productive course of action for Pro as he snatched sodas from fans and a tray of nachos from one particularly overweight fan.

::Ray::
Bah, this….this is why the Pro I my all time favourite wrestler.

::Jimmy::
Why? Because he snatches snacks from paying fans?

::Ricky::
What did I tell you guys about flapping your lips with noises coming out? Shush God damn you.

As Proeliator and Pederoso disappeared into the mass of people, The Hardcore Angel and Psycho Savage appear on the camera at the side of the ring. Savage had obviously been the victim of an ironically savage beat down. As Savage lies flat on his back, Hardcore lifts the apron in search of a weapon and lo on behold, out comes a steel chair. He hoists the chair above his head to pander to the crowd who in response, cheer like fuck for their Angel. A newfound hell fire look appears on the face of Angel as he once again hoists the chair above his head, this time in sheer malice. Savage regains consciousness in time to see a chair smash against his own ankle. The crushing pain of the chair shot causes Savage to scream and shake in agony. The adrenaline gained for his own pain gives him the energy to crawl away from his chair-wielding adversary but to no avail as Hardcore Angel launches another ground shaking chair shot right across the back of Savage.

Savage arches his back in severe torturous pain but the raged Angel merely ignores this and heads over to the corner of the ring. There, he dislodges the top half of the steel steps from the bottom and carries this huge weight with two hands, across his chest. As he draws closer, Savage instinctively kicks out at the patella of Hardcore, causing him to fall forwards. His attempts to throw the steps away fail, therefore drops directly into the angled edge of the unforgiving steel. The crowd burst into a symphony of “HOLY SHIT” as Hardcore is dragged out from the steel steps to reveal he had indeed been busted wide open, from ear to ear. Just moments after being dragged out from the steps, Savage then lashes out and smashes his head back into the alcove like opening in the steps. All confusion is put to bed as Psycho Savage walks over to where Angel had thrown the steel chair and picks it up. He then strolls over to the bleeding Hardcore Angel and raises the chair before using maximum torque to smash the steel onto the head of Angel, crushing his head between the two metals. Just as it appeared as if no more damage could possibly be done to the fan favourite, the demonic Savage locks in a three quarter face lock, Hardcore’s head perched precariously above the steel steps.

::Ray::
OH HERE WE GO BABY. The first real act of violence of the night.

::Jimmy::
Oh my god no, not on the steps for god sake.

Jimmy has just enough time to complete his plea before the monstrous Savage launches himself backwards, driving Hardcore’s head directly into the steel. Hardcore bounces off the steel and onto the concrete whereas Savage appears to be in a lot of pain, his back being the primary source.

::Ricky::
Good grief, just forget about him now. Speaking of forget, where the fuck is Pederoso?

His prayers were instantly answered, maybe not in the way he would have wanted but none the less, Pederoso is launched over the guard rail at the side of the ring and lands on the lightly padded flooring. Pro follows shortly after with a very smug and confident look about him, heading straight for the exhausted Pederoso. Not letting him catch his breath, Pro runs up and punt kicks Chris directly in the kidney area, causing him to roll over, winded. Pro gives a sick laugh and looks back into the ring, gazing at the prized contract before him. Realizing his goal, his smug look disappears and grabs Ped by his hair and drags him to his feet and immediately slams him into the ring post, face first. Pro then grabs the nearby, barbed wire covered ladder, very gingerly and walks back over to Pederoso. With a sick thought in his mind, he puts the ladder to violent use and dashes it at the shoulder and head of Pederoso, the barbed wire sticking into the cheek of the Ped man.

Without so much of a glimpse at the state of Pederoso, he swiftly gets into the ring with the ladder with one thing in mind. Whilst staring at the prize above, he positions the ladder underneath the briefcase in order to climb it. Before he begins to climb it, he very carefully moves the wrapped barbed wire to the side of the rungs, inevitably cutting his hand doing so. He then begins to climb the ladder, unaware of the Satan worshipper slithering into the ring behind him. He is able to climb up five rungs on the ladder before the sneaky Czarina grabs a hold of his right leg and pulls him back. Pro clings to the ladder for dear life as he is now in a horizontal position facing the bottom rungs of the ladder. The now oncoming Darkrites was seemingly about to attack his nemesis but instead lands a stinging right hand jab directly to the ribs of Pro, causing him to cease his grip of the ladder and fall, face first, onto the bottom rung of the heavily wrapped barbed wire ladder.

::Jimmy::
Well….he used to have pretty good looks, used to being the operative words.

::Ray::
Shut up with your wise cracks Jim, for god sake Winthorp what are you thinking you pasta eating cock-eater!

As Winthorp stares into the eyes of his nemesis, Czarina stares back with fiery intensity. Each one wanting to tear the other apart, once again. Before they could do as much as lay a finger on each other, Pederoso sneaks up behind the Italian Goth and hooks his arms before turning him over to face the ground. He then throws his legs from underneath him and drives Darkrites’s head into the canvass, the devastating Killswitch leaves Czarina perplexed as to what to do. Alas, she couldn’t do a thing before the monstrous Psycho Savage lurks up behind her and locks her in what appears to be a generic suplex preparation position but no, in fact he lifted her off her feet and twisted her clockwise. As she lands, she hits her head and neck off the canvass in a very grotesque manner.

[czarina]

Czarina rolled spasmodically under the ropes and onto the floor where she curled into the fetal position clutching her head. Savage, the one whom sent her to the painful voyage, spun around to lurk after more to vanquish so that he could be the lone warrior in the ring with the tainted ladder. The nearest man to him was Chris, whom had planted Winthorp just moments before Psycho had done the damaging deed to Satan's Little Helper. Chris may have been "born better", but he proved not to be better in this case as Savage clinged onto his climbing foot, and yanked him off of the ladder before he had gotten a good start up it. The nimble and well balanced Pederso stumbled but did not fall after his feet touched canvas, but his chops felt as though they were numb for a moment then on fire the next, all courtesy of a well aimed jab-cross from the ham-hock sized fists of the most Psycho Savage of them all.

Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, Czarina had managed to make it to all fours when a pair of recognizable boots came into view. She took a fearful gulp, knowing they belonged to the only human she has ever feared - Winthorp Darkrites. His hands cupped her face and lifted her so easily to a stand. He then ran one of his hands through her long, dark tresses so that it formed a healthy pony-tail in his hand. That is when he lifted her up a little bit more, forcing her to stand before him in humiliating fashion by a simple holding of her hair. Her limbs fell uslesslessly at her sides and it looked to be that she was giving up, yet again, to her constant tormentor. Winthorp twisted his body slightly and craned his arm in preparation for a head-severing clothesline when she suddenly spat that horrible, burning red mist directly into his eyes. The Italian Goth instantly released her and grabbed at his eyes, piercing yelps followed his actions upon back-peddling away from her. Czarina stepped forward to take advantage on a rare chance at offense against her dominant arch-nemesis. Once in range she sent her right leg charging upward swiftly, the top of her foot blasting against his central nuttal region. The Goth moaned and the crowd "Ohhhhhh'd" as he slowly turned away from her and dropped to his knees, one hand concentrating on his eyes, the other on his private area. After several agonizing seconds in that position he fell flat onto his air-sucking face; his ass stuck upwards, almost in alignment with the ceiling.

JP: That-a-girl, get em! Hey Ray, he has his ass stuck in the air, now is your once in a lifetime chance to get some action.

Ray: Oh thats real funny and original, Jimmy. I have higher standards though, no offense Winthorp.

Ricky: What is this fag stuff? Do not speak in that tone around me. You will be swimming with the fishes, and I am not talkin' bout da woman's vagi-wagi.

Ever the evil opportunist, Czarina knelt by the apron cloth and hiked it up, searching the undercarriage for a great weapon to use - like a Vladesque drill, or a Oliveria'ish Thumbtack chair. Her intense eyes locked onto a weird contraption that should be found in a toy aisle in wal-mart, or at least the sporting goods department - not under a wrestling ring. Her black nailed digits wrapped around the end of the device and she pulled it out with a vexed expression. However, the EVPW loyal weighted behind her, were all too eager to accept it as viable. Despite her heel heat, the macabre patrons begun a vociferously chant of "PO-GO-STICK" and seemed to beg the Satanist to use it. A slow, evil, yet seductive little smile formed out of the left corner of her mouth (think Katie Holmes corner of mouth smile) as she crept close to Darkrites. After a quick halt she saw the ring steps used earlier to bust open Hardcore Angel, and she smiled even broader, like The Grinch who stole Christmas. The fans grew anxious as she maneuvered around to the steps and climbed atop them all the way to the top step. Czarina placed the pogo stick in front of her and adjusted it so that she'd have room to do what she had come up with. In quick movement, she leaped onto the pogo stick and bounced on it a single time, using the elevated steps as a high altitude launch pad, and took flight. Her aim was dead on as gravity pulled her down, the end of the stick ramming into Winthorp's ass crack area, splitting the fabric of his attire and doing untold damage underneath. Darkrites bellowed out a long, painful wail and crawled away as fast as he could, doing his best scalded dog impersonation.

JP: HOLY FUCK! Did we just witness our first female on male rape in EVPW?

Ray: It sure beats the regular everyday rapes that go on around here, but damn it, why not me?

Ricky: Hey rainbow warrior, did you not hear me while ago? Fuckin'.. ahh fagetboutit. get up Pederoso you lazy bum.

The battle inside the ring was growing into a all out slug fest between Psycho Savage and the Ped-Man. Each one threw punch after punch, gaining a "Ohhhh" and "ahhhhh" response from many in attendance. Savage finally broke through with his amazing power and pinned Chris against the ropes, rearranging his cute face with knuckle bombs galore. But as he took a step back and cocked his arm for a good ole fashioned haymaker, the Hardcore Angel came dashing out of nowhere, extending both arms out. It paid off well for the profusely bleeding Angel, seeing that both of them toppled unceremoniously over the top rope to the outside. Not a spare second was wasted by Hardcore as he turned around and realized nobody was left standing in the squared hell. He grabbed the ladder greedily and begun his journey north, passing each step as blood dripped from his mandible. Six rungs passed beneath him, but on the seventh he felt movement under him - it was Pro. Angel shook his head in a pleading beg to the man who held power under him, but pro would have none of it. Placing his hands against the rungs and pushing, Pro quickly sent the ladder tipping over, dumping the Hardcore Angel from inside the ring to the outside on top of Chris and Psycho Savage with TERSEMENDOUS force.

The sudden comet like fall and collision startled the unexpecting Satan worshipper, but after she did a quick recompose, she had found opportunity at her feet again. Near to her was Savage, the same cruel one whom had almost broke her neck a few moments prior. She hugged the pogo stick and smirked, knowing she had found her weapon of choice akin to Diamond's splitting maul or Nicholas' nail gun. She wielded the toy turned weapon again, bouncing up and down a few times before getting a good height. A simple directional change and she crashed the end down onto Psycho Savage's groin area, leaving the male fans in the stands to groan and cup themselves in sympathy of the hated entity. Unfortunately, Czarina had to abandon her fun time outside upon peering into the ring and seeing Pro positioning the ladder under the prize.

JP: That reminded me of Flight 232 in 1989 right there, talk about a ROUGH and DEADLY landing!

Ray: Quick, get the ladder one of you, climb it before that Satan loving whore woman can get a second breath. She is like the terminator, she keeps going and going.

JP: That is the Energizer Bunny, you idiot.

Ray: Hehehe, no Jimmy, I am the Energizer Bunny. Just ask any guys on thi-

JP: Zip it, Ray!

Ray: Gah, I hate it when they say that!

Ricky: Fuck this, I am going offline here. I can not be around you types. Especially you Ray, in your stupid little pink suit.

*Ricky tosses the headsets down*

She tossed the stick down and rolled in, but Pro was already four rungs up, albeit it travelling slowly. Figuring she had the advantage in speed, she quickly began to climb the opposite side of the ladder, catching up with him alot faster than she had planned. The race was on so to speak, and by the time both had reached half way up, they simultaneously felt digits wrapped around their ankles. Both looked down, Czarina seeing Chris and Pro seeing Winthorp. But tried to fend off their recovered foes, but it proved to be fruitless as the pair of hungry warriors quickly caught up with them. A array of elbows and punches were thrown thereafter, all four parties battling with all they've got. In the end, though, it was Chris and Winthorp, each having the same idea of grabbing their opponent in a waistlock, that prevailed. They lifted and pulled, prying Czarina and Pro from the ladder and powered them backwards off of the ladder in a physics defying dual release German Suplex. Czarina landed with so much TERSELOCITY that her Satanic vessel flew from the mat straight through the middle and bottom ring ropes and came to a thudding stop on the quarter inch thick padding outside. Pro, at least, was able to stay inside the ring but suffered much the same hellish pain surging through his system, sending his neurons sputtering and limbs slightly numb.

Winthorp and the Pedster both tried to get up as quickly as they could, but it was Darkrites who made it to the vertical base and Chris who almost did too, but fell flat onto his face after being unable to get his legs to cooperate. At first glance, The Goth looked skyward at the ultimate prize and placed a foot onto the first rung, but his attention drifted to a desire more consuming that a title belt - the final act of destruction to Czarina. His tongue licked over his lips feverishly as he methodically escorted the wire clad ladder against the ring ropes and let it stand there peering over the prone form of the woman he had vowed to destroy once and for all at From The Ashes. He stepped through the ropes next, and snagged up the same ring steps that had seen so much action. After carrying it a few feet to Czarina's location, he sat it flat down as though it was in its original configuration, then bent down and slid Czarina's head and neck area onto the top step. A dreadful and uneasy feeling zapped the blood lusty energy from the crowd as they watched on, knowing that the maniac would do something so cold hearted that it would not have the dignity of praise. Next, he grabbed the steel chair used earlier and re-entered the ring, taking up climb of the ladder. As he ascended, the camera tilted and panned the audience, many of them standing awe-struck with hands over their mouths. The barbed wire cutting at his flesh did not bother the seething Goth, if fact, he laughed manically as each pronged slashed him. Finally, he reached the top and took a sit, running his free hand a single time through his nappy hair. He stood and took a deep breath, then leaped from his perch. As he plummeted towards the ground, he brought the chair over head then swinging downward with the fall...

*CRAAAAAACK or GUN SHOT SOUND*

JP: Oh my FUCKING FUCK! He murdered Czarina, that young woman has been ended. if not her life, her career! He just had to do it didn't he? That sick, cold, son-of-a-bitch!

Ray: An honest man is hard to find these days, Jimmy. All I can say is good riddance, THANK YOU WINTHORP!

[Winthorp Darkrites]

The Goth turns his head, looking around at each and every person within the stands, their eyes glaring at him and piercing his very soul with hate-filled daggers. Winthorp shakes off the feeling however and turns to face his victim, Czarina lays on the ground motionless and curdling, the pain coursing through her entire body as The Goth stretches out both arms in a crucifix pose, sweat running down his brow and down his cheeks as he breathes and takes in every moment as if it was his last. Winthorp grips the chair tightly and opens it up slightly, approaching Czarina and placing her head through the gap in the chair and carefully placing her head back on the mat, The Goth takes a step back and readies himself.

The Italian Goth takes a quick start towards The Satanic Vixen and raises a foot for a stomp onto the base of the chair, but an unexpected pair of boots catches Darkrites from the side and sends him into the direction of the kick. Pederoso, who finally gained the co-operation of his legs, gets back up slowly as he eyes his foe maliciously.

Jimmy Pate
"Pederoso just saved Czarina just in time from a cruel fate, but then again, that strike with the chair must've done enough damage as it is."

Ray White
"Who gives a damn really Jimmy, Czarina is just some little bitch from SNK, who started barking really loudly. Winthorp went over there and taught that little girl a lesson!"

Now it's Chris Pederoso standing as the triumphant superstar, he looks around and slaps his chest cockily, smirking as he does so to prove his control over the match. However, the momentary showboating turns bad for the Pedster as an arm from nowhere catches him around the throat and knocks him cleanly on his back, The Proeliator stands sluggishly near Ped as he tries to keep himself standing. Pro gets down and reaches for Ped's neck, albeit slowly because of the pain, wrapping an arm around his neck and lifting him up slowly.

On the outside, Psycho Savage and The Hardcore Angel begin to regain their composure within the match, the two superstars using the guard barricade as a way to get themselves back up to their feet. Various fans in attendance of tonight's even begin slapping their hands and cheering in both men's faces in an attempt to help them back up, however, Savage looks up and snarls at a young child, sending spit and bad breath into the poor child's face.

Back in the ring, Pro has Pederoso locked tight, he wastes no time in bringing himself back into the mat with force and driving the head of Pederoso into the mat with him. Winthorp begins stirring and lifts his head up slowly, his vision blurred slightly after the fall, apparently hitting his head hardly in the fall. Nonetheless, The Goth reaches out towards the bottom rope and grabs onto it, dragging himself closer and resting upon it. The Proeliator gets back up rather quickly this time and looks around at everyone within the ring, most of the competitors are down and out, while the two on the outside are still trying to get back up to their feet. Pro turns around and behind him is the ladder, in all it's glory and wrapped in barbed wire. Pro re-positions the ladder and then begins his climb up to the top once more, each barb digging into the skin of his palms as he steps up closer towards his goal.

Jimmy Pate
"Proeliator with another climb to the top, will this be his time now? Will he be able to reach for that briefcase and take home a free title shot in the future? And why am I speaking as if this were a weekly TV show, this is a Pay-Per-View damn it."

Ray White
"I have no idea Jimmy, but find out in a few seconds when Winthorp Darkrites looks like he's close to getting back up to his feet!"

With Ray White's comment, comes the moment of truth. Winthorp, now holding onto the second rope for support, pulls himself back up to his feet slowly and turns to see The Proeliator climbing up the ladder. In desperation, The Italian Goth pulls himself up with great force and launches himself towards the barbed-wire wrapped ladder, thrusting his right shoulder out in front and driving it into the side of the ladder. Winthorp grunts in pain, the iron made barbs dig into his skin and cut into his flesh, drawing more blood, but the attack succeeds in knocking the ladder over and bringing The Proeliator crashing into the mat. Winthorp gets down onto a knee and grips the wound tightly, in an attempt to halt the blood flow.

On the outside, Psycho Savage and The Hardcore Angel both stand firmly on their feet. Angel raises an arm and wipes some blood off of his face, although the severity of his wound just brings forth more blood to replace the previously removed blood. Savage on the other hand, confidentially strides over to Angel and brings his foot up, driving the heel into the cheek of The Hardcore Angel and sending him stumbling back against the barricade. Savage continues his advance, bringing his arm up and thrusting it towards the throat of Angel, but is denied as he ducks under the vicious strike and kicks Savage behind the knee, putting pressure on him and forcing him to drop to a knee. Angel jumps up onto the side of the ring and turns himself around swiftly, jumping off of the side and lifting his legs up for the dropkick, planting both feet firmly on the back of Psycho Savage and pushing his head into the barricade.

Jimmy Pate
"Ouch, Angel just drove Psycho Savage into that hard steel barricade with the dropkick."

Ray White
"Maybe he'll look at my crotch too, just like Winth- Oh wait, that sounds a tad bit gay."

Jimmy Pate
"Earth to fucking gay guy, you ARE gay."

Back in the ring once more, Winthorp releases the hold on his wound, the blood flow appears to have stopped slightly but a few drops still continue to ooze out of the wound. The Goth gets himself back up to his feet and looks around at the carnage within the ring, bodies litter the inside of the ring and two superstars continue to fight on the outside. The Goth looks above and glares at the briefcase above, the light reflecting off of it's surface and into the eyes of The Goth. But Winthorp turns away, he looks back and his eyes rest solely upon Czarina's broken figure, the chair still placed conveniently around her neck. The Goth approaches The Satanic Vixen and makes a movement towards the chair, back a sweep of the forearm catches Winthorp by surprise and trips The Italian Goth, bringing him down onto the mat. Czarina looks up, feigning defeat the entire time during the battle between Ped, Pro and Darkrites. The Satanic Vixen gets back up to her feet, the chair still hanging around her neck like an accessory, but she removes the chair and holds it tightly in both hands, the very urge to beat Winthorp's face in grows stronger within her.

Czarina gives into temptation and lifts the chair up above her head, seconds later bringing it down, but driving the tip of the steel chair into the bruised abdominal region of The Goth, winding him in the process.

Jimmy Pate
"Czarina is one crazy ass bitch. She just drove that chair into Winthorp's gut, possibly injuring the guy badly."

Ray White
"I hate them both, but I just feel sorry for Winthorp seeing as he's... HOME TEAM!"

Jimmy Pate
"Well, the situation can only get worse tonight as this Barbed Wire Ladder match progresses deeper into a conclusion, hopefully later in the match. But really folks, this is EVPW, where anything is possible. Even the possibility of Vladimir Strife raping everyone on the roster is just so damn possible, but..err, enough of that, we'll continue on with the match now."

TBC.

[Demon]

Czarina lifts the chair back up once more, holding it high over head for a few seconds before bringing it crashing down, this time upon the knee of Winthorp. The Italian Goth cringes in pain and curls into the fetal position, cradling his injured knee in his hands. Satisfied with her handiwork, the Satanic Vixen turns away from her long time nemesis, only to receive a boot to her upper torso. Jason Pennell stands alone in the center of the ring, everybody else in the match either not in the ring, or sprawled on the ground in pain. He points skyward, and immediately the crowd know what he is about to do. The Hardcore Angel walks over to the ladder that now lies against the ropes. He repositions it under the prize that hangs so many feet above the ring, and begins climbing, ignoring the pain that shoots through his hands and feet as the barbs go to work, tearing at his flesh mercilessly. When he is about halfway up the ladder, a stirring of movement below him catches his eye. It appears that Czarina has begun to recover from the shot she took earlier. Though his face is covered by his mask, it is clear that he is concerned about being pushed from the ladder once more.

The Satanic Vixen pushes herself up to her feet, her head pounding as it had collided with the canvas as she fell. It takes her a few moments to realize that she is in danger of losing the match, as The Hardcore Angel has almost reached the top of the ladder. This seems to snap her back to clarity, and she begins to climb the ladder on the opposite side, her pace quickened because of a rush of panic-induced adrenaline. The two competitors reach the lip of the ladder at the near same time, and for a second stare at each other. However, it appears that Czarina grows tired of this staring contest, as she shoots her right fist forward, connecting with the mandible of Jason, and nearly knocking him to the mat below. However, he manages to hang on, and uses the momentum of forcing himself back to a full standing position to add extra power to a punch of his own. His fist drives into the temple of the Satanic Vixen. It is now her turn to be nearly knocked off the ladder, and though she manages to cling on, she does not get in another punch. Jason throws his right fist out again, timing it to get the greatest effect as Czarina swings herself back forward. This time it is enough to force the Satanic Vixen backward off the ladder, and she crashes back-first on the canvas below.

"That was a nasty fall taken by Czarina there, Ray. I'm not sure that she will be able to recover from that too easily."

"Who cares, JP? That stupid bitch spilled coffee on my crotch, remember?"

Jason stands victorious on top of the ladder, the contract that hangs above him now within reach. However, he does not do the obvious thing, and reach up to grab it. Instead, he looks down upon the mass of bodies that lie motionless below him. He inhales deeply, building up his courage for what he is about to attempt. Without another moment of hesitation, the Hardcore Angel launches himself forward off the ladder. He flips backward once and stops himself when he is parallel to the ground. Jason crashes down upon the prone form of Czarina. He bounces slightly back into the air before landing on his back beside the Satanic Vixen, both competitors gasping for air.

"That idiot! He could have won the match right there, but he had to go and more than likely take himself out of the match."

"Ray, he did it for the fans. I mean, just listen to this crowd, they are deafening right now. That was some sacrifice to make this match truly epic!"

"What, and a pogo stick up a man's ass wasn't epic enough?"

Both the Proeliator and Winthorp Darkrites begin working their respective ways up to their feet. Winthorp uses the ring ropes behind him, while Proeliator manages to get up under his own power. The two men stare across the ring at each other, momentarily sizing each other up. They cross the ring in a few strides, and meet center-ring, the ladder right beside them. The two competitors lock up in a collar-and-elbow tie-up, attempting to gain the advantage using brute force. Winthorp manages to push Pro back into a corner, and quickly drives a shoulder into his gut. The Proeliator is forced even further into the turnbuckle, and once more the Italian Goth forces his shoulder into the abdomen of his foe. Unseen by either of these two men, Psycho Savage has finally recovered, and rolled into the ring. He holds a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in his hands, and creeps as quietly toward the two men in the corner as he can. Swiftly, he swings the bat forward, connecting with the skull of Winthorp and momentarily knocking him out. The Italian Goth joins those that lie motionless on the canvas as Psycho Savage turns his attention to the Proeliator.

The Master of Masochism walks forward, discarding the bat that now has bits of flesh and hair sticking to the barbed wire. As he reaches the Proeliator, he lifts the smaller man up and sets him in a sitting position on the turnbuckle. He then positions Pro's legs on his shoulders and lifts him from the turnbuckle, walking back toward the center of the ring. Psycho Savage displays his vast array of strength as he tosses the Proeliator back first into the barbed wire wrapped ladder. The steel barbs dig into his flesh, tearing it away from his body as gravity forces him to fall to the ground. The ladder topples forward from the force of a human body hitting it, and it lands on top of the Hardcore Angel and Czarina, covering their bodies in a heap of metal and sharp barbs. The Master of Masochism looks around the ring, looking to see if anybody has recovered from the assaults they took earlier. The only person he notices is Chris Pederoso, who still appears to be slightly out of it. Not one to take the risk of having him recover, however, Psycho Savage begins marching over to the smaller Spaniard.

"This could be bad for Chris. Psycho Savage looks like he's on a warpath. He's just destroying everybody who is dumb enough to get in his way."

"I don't like Chris's chances against Psycho Savage. He is just so overpoweringly powerful. It's a bit redundant, I know, but it's the only way to sum up the strength this man possesses."

As Psycho Savage bends down to lift Chris up to his feet, Pederoso seems to take a page out of Czarina's book as he spits a red mist up at Psycho Savage, momentarily blinding him. This distraction is enough to allow the Ped Man to get back up to his feet and have more of a fighting chance. Chris grabs the arm of Pyscho Savage and manages to whip him around into the ropes. As the Master of Masochism makes his return trip, the Spaniard displays some rather impressive strength of his own, lifting Psycho Savage into the air and turning him one hundred and eighty degrees before forcing him back first into the canvas. Chris hops back up to his feet, a smirk of triumph plastered on his face, as he knows he is the only man left still standing in this match.

TBC

[hancocker]

As Chris takes a moment to assess the situation at hand, he scours the area visually, contemplating making his climb towards the contract. In an act of haste, the Cerebral Spaniard darts for the ladder, and ignoring the barbed wire on the ladder, clutching it firmly and beginning to set it up as the barbs put small holes in his hands and blood begins to drip. With one last breath before taking the climb to achieve the ultimate opportunity, the Ped Man starts his ascension, one rung at a time. As he carefully makes his way up the ladder, a sense of panic and urgency begins to overcome the Spaniard as he sees the stirring of the Master of Masochism and begins to rush his approach to glory. Only one more step on the ladder and a reach towards the heavens separates Pederoso from his chance at breaking the glass ceiling, and nothing was going to stop him now. Taking what felt like an eternity, Captain Charisma makes it to the top rung of the ladder and reaches for the contract sitting only mere inches out of his grasp. As he realizes he is just one rung short from getting there, he feels everything from his world crashing down as the ladder that was supporting him flies sideways out from underneath him and he comes crashing down violently, on the ladder that had just been assisting him in his quest moments before. As the Ped Man writhes in pain, he looks over to see Psycho Savage standing triumphantly in the middle of the ring.

Ray White:~ Man, what an impressive big boot! So devastating, and he didn't even have to touch his opponent!

Jimmy Pate:~ Well he did use the ladder to his advantage that time, but the Cerebral Spaniard was closing in on the victory, and almost had it, right at the tips of his fingers.

Ray White:~ Almost? That only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades, and I don't see an equestrian event or a war zone anywhere nearby.

Jimmy Pate:~ What about the intense battle in the ring Ray?

Ray White:~ Yeah, you would call that a war, faggot.

Psycho Savage quickly looks to capitalize on his advantageous situation, and makes his way for the stunned Pederoso, who now is sporting some impressive gashes on his back from plummeting over ten feet directly onto the ladder. Grabbing the stunned and dazed Spaniard, the Master of Masochism lifts his opponent up into a fisherman-type hold, keeping him there and showing off his awe-inspiring strength. As he holds his foe up over his shoulders, allowing the blood to rush to his head, Psycho decides it had been enough and slams his opponent back towards the mat with a devastating Reaper's Wrath. Quickly returning to his feet, the Savage looks around the ring, spotting all the carnage and broken bodies laying in the ring as a frightening smile comes to his face. Paying no mind to the other four combatants, the Master of Masochism hurriedly grabs the ladder, placing it directly underneath the contract that hangs 15 feet above the canvas. Moving with purpose he climbs up the ladder rung by rung, at a much more deliberate pace than those before him. Reaching the top of the tangled mess that has become more a sign of torment and suffering than a climbing utility, Psycho feels something, no mark that someone, tugging at his heel.

Jason Pennel had got up and got a hold of the heels of the Psycho Savage in the nick of time, as the Master of Masochism struggled to reach for the contract that just barely misses his grasp. Trying yet again to reach, Psycho gets the tip of his fingers on the briefcase and begins to get a grip on the free title shot, up until he feels a stiff shot to the side of his jaw and turns to see Czarina in front of him, trying to take him down. With one swift blow to the side of the head he knocks the Satanist down a rung or two and reaches up again as he attempts to shake off the Hardcore Angel, but can't as his opponent climbs up onto the first few rungs, cinching in a rear waist lock on the Savage one. Trying to rip his nemesis, if only for tonight, down from the ladder, the Hardcore Angel rips and tugs with all his might, but cannot pull the stronger Psycho Savage down at all. Suddenly, eyes wide in amazement, both men see an eclipse of sorts as soaring above them from over the top of the ladder and through the spotlights is Czarina, falling face first towards the canvas and gaining momentum quickly as she does so. Falling more quickly as time elapses, the Satanic Salemite hooks the thighs of the Hardcore Angel and flips, pulling him off of the ladder whilst he still had his firm grip on the Master of Masochism, sending both men flying to the mat with Savage also getting tangled in the ropes.

Jimmy Pate:~ Oh have mercy! What a devastating rolling powerbomb from Czarina!

Ray White:~ Meh, it was alright, although I do think I caught a glimpse up underneath the skirt of that fruitcake. I'd hit it... with a baseball bat.

Jimmy Pate:~ Do you ever have anything nice to say about anyone?

Ray White:~ Well, there's only one man standing in this match, and its the referee, so he's doing pretty well for his own kind.

Jimmy Pate:~ *Rolls eyes* Are you really going to go there?

Ray White:~ Go where? Czarina's house? Hell no! I don't want to be served stillborn fetal blood for dinner.

Jimmy Pate:~ Nevermind, lets just get back to calling the action as Czarina appears to be stalking the prize above.

Czarina takes her time up the ladder, reveling in the moment as she looks towards the heavens in a moment of irony, ascending towards a shot at future glory. This moment however, immediately comes crashing down as Czarina's arch rival enters the ring, and is on the prowl towards the completely oblivious Devil worshipper. Bouncing off the farside ropes and running towards his nemesis, Winthorp leaves his feet and dropkicks the legs right out from underneath Czarina, causing her to plummet face first into the ladder, eventually crashing to the mat. As blood pours from the Satanists' face, the Italian Goth rolls out of the ring, and looks underneath the apron, scavenging for an object of his liking. Either dejected or moderately satisfied, a pane of glass is pulled out from the undercarriage and begins setting it up by placing one end on the barricade and the other on the ring apron, balancing it carefully. Rolling back into the ring, the Milan Middleweight lifts the prone Czarina to her feet. Darkrites immediately places her in a front waist lock, squeezing with all his might, before pulling her over towards the ropes where he has placed this pane of glass. With a deep breath and a mighty heave, Darkrites throws the much lighter woman over his head and over the top rope, sending her crashing through the pane of glass and to the pavement in a heap.

Ray White:~ Darkrites just injured someone for life, the Italian Goth way.

Jimmy Pate:~ Although I may not agree with her lifestyle, I sure hope that Czarina isn't seriously injured.

Ray White:~ What are you, kidding? This is probably a rite of passage. Now she has to drink her blood and cut her tongue with the glass to become a full member of the clan of beelzebub and be rewarded with an eternity of suffering in hell.

Jimmy Pate:~ What are you talking about?

Ray White:~ Where you'll be in about 30 years.

Jimmy Pate:~ *Scoffs* What the hell are you talking about?

Ray White:~ I've seen the little boys you bring to your hotel room, heck I saw them last night. One was wearing a green tank top and looked like he was crying.

Jimmy Pate:~ That's my children you dumbass.

Ray White:~ You molest your own children?

At this Ray White takes his headset off and slams it down on the desk and points at his broadcast partner in a disapproving matter and moves over to the other side of the time keeper to keep tabs on the action and pulls out his cellphone and begins dialing it.

In the ring, the Italian Goth looks up at the contract circling 15 feet in the air and then towards the ladder that is still, surprisingly enough, standing in the middle of the ring. Moving towards it while stepping over the broken bodies in the ring he feels a rush of warm air on the back of his neck, and turns around to see the master of the armbar standing behind him. Instead of coming to blows however, both men stare at each other, circling the ring best as they could, before frantically rushing to dump the lifeless bodies of the other combatants to the floor and meet back in the center of the ring. Taking a moment to contemplate their next move, both men meet in the middle with a collar and elbow tie up. In a rare occurrence, the Pro wins the exchange by floating underneath the arm of Winthorp and placing him in a hammer lock. Not to be outdone, Winthorp reverses the hold into a hammerlock of his own before being taken down with a snapmare by the technical wizardry of Pro as both men quickly jump back up to their feet in the “draw position.”

Outside the ring, Pederoso and the Hardcore Angel begin to stir, rising to their feet, slowly but surely, using the announcing table to steady themselves as they stand. Psycho Savage also begins to work his way to his feet, but is far more unsuccessful at this than the other two and collapses back to the ground his first few attempts before finding his bearings. Inside the ring, The Proeliator sees the other competitiors rising to their feed and makes a swift decision, grabbing the ladder from inside of the ring and tossing it over the top rope towards the Ped Man and Jason Pennel, connecting with both of them solidly, knocking them both back to the ground, yet again. Winthorp takes advantage of this distraction by setting up in a near three point stance and as soon as the king of the cage turned himself back towards the ring he darts after him, driving his shoulder deep into the stomach of the Pro, knocking him into and through the ropes, down to the floor with a scintillating hellgate. Hoping to seize the moment and the chance he has now of victory, the Italian Goth rolls under the bottom rope and walks over to two of his downed opponents, nonchalantly grabs the ladder off of their nearly lifeless bodies.Turning around to return to the ring, Winthorp gets a face full of steel and barbs as the not so incapacitated Master of Masochism was lying in wait for the opening he needed and drove his giant boot into the ladder, sending it directly into the face of the Italian Goth, dropping him to the concrete as Psycho Savage falls to his backside for a breather.

Jimmy Pate:~ My God! What carnage here in this match! Who will be the first one to get to their feet and claim their paycheck? Looks over at Ray The intensity in the Cow Palace is at a fever pitch!

TBC:

[czarina]

The people who watched from behind the railing appeared to be a bunch of drunk twenty-somethings coming home from a night on the town. They waited, eyes fastened to the scene with a morbid mixture of horror, fascination, and sympathy. The horror they understood. No body was a pretty sight. To Psycho Savage's surprise, the Pedman rose wobbly and rested against the apron and looked down at the ladder. The Master of Masochism, having only recovered a fraction, reached out to grab it but Chris was just a little bit quicker and slid it under the bottom rope and trailed in, Savage following in his quest. The Pedster tried valiantly to get back to his feet quickly, but Psycho was either quicker or hungrier; or both, and slammed his massive boot into the nape of Chris' neck, completely knocking him unconscious.

That didn't satisfy the sick bastard, oh no, it didn't. He then reached down and yanked him up like a child would his favorite stuffed toy, and carried him to a sit on the top buckle; facing out towards the crowd. Savage climbed to the middle pad next, and perched Chris onto his broad shoulders in the Electric Chair position, then clenched down his neck with one hand while securing Ped's legs with the other. Psycho suddenly lurched a little forward before releasing his grip on Chris' neck, while falling backwards even faster in the same arduous force and motion. What made it even worse was the ladder Chris landed on, the quagmire of barbed wire mess and steel meshed into his flesh and bone. Luckily for Chris he was already out cold and was moreless dead weight.

JP: MAH GAWD, SATANIC THRONE FROM OFF THE DAMN ROPES ONTO THAT LADDER! Savage is continuing to dominate here, much like he has done in several moments throughout this chaotic match. I bet Ricky is shittin' his pants haha... wait, where the hell did he go anyways?

*Ray and JP looked and behold, there was Ricky climbing into the ring.*

Ray: What the fuck? Is he trying to horn in on my action? Those are my menz damn it.


It was quite the funny scene, the old bastard was furious over the mistreatment of Chris and proved it by drawing back and clobbering Savage with a stiff shot that actually rocked him a little bit. Ricky recoiled back for another one but his face was proverbially caved in by the same "sick kick" that rendered Chris motionless. The poor, power 10 show host was not afforded total unconsciousness that Pedster had been dealt, and therefor saw himself being fitted inside the ladder like meat inside a taco. Ricky felt the same torture the competitor's had been feeling as the barbs cut into him and lustfully burrowed and slashed.


The Master of Masochism bent down, hefting the Ricky-filled ladder up into a basic power slam position. The 32 year old powerhose showcased a bit then fell back, tossing Ricky-n-the ladder high, VERY high over his head. After the ladder landed in horrific fashion, the camera got an extreme close up of it. The scene was grisly and could be depicted better if it were a car accident with casualty, rather than a "wrestling" match, not a single portion of Ricky's body seemed to be free of wire mesh or blood, giving him a "Saw" movie victim look.


Ray: YES! Thank you Mr. skirt wearing Psycho sexy! That ought to teach that Ricky Valen-whatever the hell his name was to never move in on my menz when they are doing their body tossing thing. I hope he murderlized him like Winthorp did that rancid Devil Bitch, Czarina.


JP: Speaking of Czarina; she STILL hasn't moved a muscle or dare I say, breathed a breath since she went through that glass. None of that matters though, because all Psycho Savage has to do is pull Ricky out of that ladder and set it up then climb. Too easy.


Ray: Jimmy you jinxing bastard! You just breathed life into Czarina! LOOK!


*Ray nudged an elbow into Jimmy's ribs and pointed at the area where Czarina had took the big bump, and sure enough, she was seen hauling herself up via the top of the crowd barrier.*


JP: Well damn, wow. Does that mean I have reached some sort of god-hood like your precious Vladdy pooh, Ray?


Ray:*Facepalm*Pfft, too ignorant of a statement to reply to.


Psycho seemed to have some kind of telekinesis, because he did exactly as Jimmy had said he should, but before his foot could anchor the first rung, Angel emerged from his painful stay in purgatory. A desperation low blow netted Savage to fall forward, toppling the ladder with him so that the top portion landed against the top ring rope and stayed there. Psycho rested there too, holding his hurting jewels. Outside of the ring, Winthorp and Pro somehow found themselves in a gritty exchange of fatigued, yet effective punches. Darkrites kicked it up a notch though, and powered pro atop the announced table where he quickly fell into the submission wizard's full guard; yet he managed to press down with both hands, choking Proeilator.


Just as quickly as the Goth had started it, Pro expertly escaped by placing one leg under Winnie's armpit and turning 180 degrees in the direction of that leg, so that the leg moved over Darkrite's back and entangles the Italian Goth's arm. By controlling Winthorp's body and pushing the arm perpendicularly away from the Darkrie's back, pressure was be put on his shoulder, a immense amount of painful pressure.


JP: Omoplata submission. Right here in front of us, on our table. Talk about pulling a obscure submission out of your ass! Pro is damn good at those submissions.


Ray: What? Uh no. The only thing that should be getting pulled from pro's ass is my pussy-stick and....


JP: SHUT THE FUCK UP, RAY! I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT RIGHT NOW, SERIOUSLY!


Ray: Mmmmmkay, well, here. That submission isn't gonna do him any good because you can't win by submission.


Winthorp screamed and struggled while inside the ring Jason rose to a stand. The mere fact he was still in it was a moral victory, but that wasn't enough. He quickly scouted his surroundings and realized that with one strike he could knock out the final two obstacles in his way. Angel then looked at the ladder and its perfect position lent against the ropes. Even better was the fact that Savage had the other end weighted down with his 275 pounds. What entered Jason's head next was insane, but worth the try. Pennell exploded against the trio of colored cables behind him and gained an excessive amount of speed as his blood-losing body sped towards the ladder.


Once near the ladder he used Psycho's back as a bit of a stepping stone and ran up the ladder. What followed next would go down in the annals of EVPW greatness. The Hardcore Aerialist jumped from the top of the leaning ladder and pressed his knees to his chest as he flew far and brilliantly through the air. In mid air he executed a back-flip but instead of ending it in a splash as with the norm, he lands with both feet planting ruthlessly into Pro's chest and face. The incredible force that came with it caused the table to shatter underneath them, sending them to the ground in a bludgeoned head. The only favorable thing was Winthorp, who had pulled himself free from the nasty submission just before impact.


JP: BDF, BEST DAMN GAH GAWD FINISHER! Did we just see what I think we saw? MY GAWD!


*Replay came on and showed the breath taking move that should not be able to be done under the normal rules of physics. The crowd showered the Hardest Angel of them all with a combination of two favorite chants of "Holy Shit" and "That was awesome!" to show their dedication to his selfless sacrifice.*


Ray: I think Chris has been killed now too, should I give him mouth-to-mouth? I think I should.

While Ray prepped for the "moment" with Chris, poor czarina finally got to a complete stand and, as with every moment in her life recently, there was Winthorp Darkrites. He was favoring his arm and shoulder but had come to finish the job that he can't seem to complete no matter what he does to her. She was a mess. Every crevice of her body leaked of blood and glass. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face and it was all he could do to maintain his glare. From her view in the fog of war, he'd been sleek, sophisticated, deadly and unapproachable. Up close, Winthorp noticed there was a wild beauty to her features, somewhat seductive for his unusual manners. His own eyes narrowed as she backed away from his advance. Her left hand crept to her back pocket and pulled out a knife clipped there, thumbing the short tanto blade open. A blade meant for close work, with wicked angles of hard steel.

Czarina wiped a trembling hand along the thigh of her navy cargo pants. Tailored enough for casual chic, they nonetheless had the flexible pocket capacity she wanted. She'd become quite fond of the style since they'd served her so well in her life, holding a plethora of small improvised weapons for her private guerrilla war against those pesky Christians. She wasn't so fond of the trembling. Not fear, that trembling. Just awareness. Readiness. A need to act. She didn't have time to finish, not with his eyes going even wider as his hands clamped down on her arms.

No more thinking, then, just reaction. Pure adrenaline hit.
She yanked herself forward, sliding those hands down to her wrists, and then she whirled, her captured arm twirling over her head in a fast, deadly dance. They faced each other only for an instant, his now-crossed hands still on her wrists, and then she jerked back with her right hand to throw him off balance, jammed her right leg in behind his, and shoved him backward. He fell over her leg--so simple, so effective--and she levered him around his own arm. The Ghoulish Goth twisted to fall face down on the padding and even then she didn't stop, shoving the arm up high and landing on his back just as the joint cracked a little bit. By then her knees were on her dominator's spine and the knife at the base of his skull.

Ray: What the hell? The crazy bitch has got a knife at his neck! Who does she think she is? This isn't a Vlad or Nicholas or Rhaps match, is it? She is committing blasphemy against those gods and legends.

JP: I don't agree with it, but I understand why. The woman has been pushed too far, Ray. And she just tossed Winthorp down with a basic Judo leg sweep. Just goes to show you how much he underestimates her.

Perspiration and blood beaded on her upper lip, and she swiped a hand across her face before the salty-n-metallic moisture slipped unwelcome to the corners of her mouth. Sweat trickled down her back. Sucking the humid air into her lungs was like trying to breathe through a warm wet blanket. But, she suddenly removed the knife and slid it back into her pocket..


It had hit her at once; she actually had the advantage in the match. Satan had let her endure and this was his gift to her; free climb. She stumbled over to Psycho Savage and rolled him off of the ladder and turned with the Home Depot item in tow. A few steps came and went when she felt resistance. She quickly turned and saw Winthorp at the other end. Instead of decisive action; she froze.

Why didn't Czarina feel her usual confidence when she looked at him? Why did the familiar no longer seem so safe? It was Winthorp's fault, all of it. She turned her head away. He was such a utterly foreign creature. He had, from the start, turned her perceptions upside down, and shockingly, his very strangeness and dominance drew her to him. It was an attraction against her will, but she knew it was there. Like, Czarina told herself, a foolish fascination for an animal one knows is dangerous. She took a long, slow breath, calming herself. She was no stupid wench thrown into a state by, in her eyes, a handsome face; she had never allowed a man to rule her by her senses. After a brief pause she felt collected enough to meet the Goth's eyes. A mistake.

They were dark like an approaching storm on summer seas. Piercing in his hard, handsome face, they delved into hers. Despite her preparation, she felt her tummy plummet. She was drowning in a hot wave of feeling that until now she had always believed...hoped to be foreign to her. Shocked, her thoughts spiraled, and she lost her emotional footing for the first time in her life. The whisper in her head was of startled disbelief.

IS This... can this be DESIRE?

TBC:

OOC: I EDITED ERRORS AND FOR THE RECORD, CHRIS PEDEROSO CHANGED RICKY'S PIC BASE FROM THE COOL LOOKING OLD GUY TO SOME CUTE YOUNG GUY AFTER I POSTED THIS..... SO DON'T FAULT ME FOR WRITING HIM AS OLD IN THIS RP LOL.

[Chris Pederoso]

The Italian Goth crept in to the ring in a python like manner, inching towards his supposed nemesis. Sengrulf just stood there; staring at the handsome visage of Darkrites, who in turn, stares back into the eyes of the Satan worshipper. The sadistic kind of romance was a foreign subject in EVPW, especially between two of the most satanic athletes in the business. The two get within spitting distance of each other as the Italian reaches out with his right hand and strokes the face of Czarina, who flinches in reaction. The two get closer……closer……closer until……..WHACK!! Psycho Savage comes from out of nowhere and slams his huge size 13 into the face of Czarina, causing her to fall back semi-consciously on the hard canvass. The Italian Goth looks away, in a panicked state; what was he getting into. Before he could ponder too far, Savage whips the arm of Winthorp to turn him around. Savage starts yelling at Darkrites, seemingly suggesting they work together. Just as it seemed the two had formed a satanic alliance, Winthorp launched his heavily taped fist into the ugly face of Psycho Savage, knocking him to the ground. This seemed to anger the hot-headed commentator.

::Ray::
WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING YOU ITALIAN CUNT!!!

::Jimmy::
Ray, this is family show. Keeping your swearing to a minimum ok.

::Ray::
Oh shut up you fucking……Hoyty Toyty arsehole. Why don’t you fuckoff back to Poshville with your tea and your cakes and your horse cocks, ok, why don’t you do you that for me.

Without so much as a word shared between the two, the devil worshipping Czarina and Winthorp Darkrites lift Savage to his feet via his arms. As he regains his assisted vertical base, he is backed against the ropes and whipped to the opposite side of the ring to rebound. Czarina and Winthorp, in tandem, extend the arms to meet each other and catch the oncoming chest of Psycho. Savage crashes to the ground, the sound resembling the noises heard on the cruel day of September 11th 2001. The look between the two was a sight to behold. Long time enemies, seemingly, new found feelings shared between them. There wasn’t much time for them to share the experience as Savage is up to his feet in no time and ready to pounce on the duo. Winthorp reacts the fastest of the two to catch Savage right on the jaw with a swinging right hand.

The two seem as if they’d known each other for years as Czarina nods to her new “Partner” and leaves the ring, without a single word being said. Czarina ducks down underneath the ring apron and drags out a large wooden table, no doubt her intentions were hellish. Winthorp keeps the monstrous Savage at bay whilst Czarina sneaks into the ring at sets up the table she’d acquired. Winthorp drags Savage towards the table, only to be stopped by his new amigo, as she whispers in his ear. The comments made the Goth shudder before a sadistic grin came across his face. Czarina once again leaves the ring as Winthorp buys them time. He locks in a three quarter face lock and very quickly drives the forehead of Savage into the mat. Just as the Italian sits up and looks over towards the commentators, Czarina emerges with a large brown coloured bag in her mitts.

::Jimmy::
What the hell is that?

::Ray::
You know what, I’m not interested in the well being of any of these guys anymore, screw it. Here’s my guess; It’s a bag of plastic explosives.

Czarina climbed into the ring in her own sexy and mesmerizing way. She ducks down and opens the bag underneath the table and half empties the contents beneath the table.

::Ray::
Damn it.

The contents of the bag turned out to be thumbtacks, as was cleared up as she emptied it fully on top of the table. The crowd automatically, and perhaps involuntarily, rise to their feet in anticipation of ultra violence. Winthorp lifts Savage to his feet very aggressively and drags him to the table. Czarina’s twisted expression remains as she kicks Savage in the midsection, doubling him over. Winthorp then drags his head around to face him and wraps his arms around his waist, from the back. He then hoists his adversary to shoulder height and throws Savage down through the pin covered table. Czarina gives a childish giggle at the pain of Savage, the lacerations clear to see. Savage has no choice but to roll around, trying to be free of the torture but to no prevail. Tacks stick into him all over his now bloodied torso.

::Jimmy::
OH GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY!! How far can these guys go for god sake

::Ray::
Not far enough yet, Winthorp must pay for teaming with that, coffee spilling, Satan worshipping slut.

As the hellish twosome stare down at their motionless prey, medics come racing down to the ring but not for Savage. In fact they came to help the still downed Ricky Valencia. They quickly get to work; putting him on the stretcher and carrying him out to the back. Before he disappeared through the curtain, he had just enough time to hoist and plug the new EVPW DVD; “Pederoso: the rise and rise”.

::Ray::
Money grabbing bastard

::Jimmy::
What? Just last week you plugged your work out DVD twelve times during WNG.

Winthorp can’t take his eyes off the destruction he had caused, realizing the power he could unleash when he wanted to do so. Whilst in this deep state of thought, Jason Pennell slithers into the ring almost silently, wielding a chair. Jason lines Winthorp up, standing a foot behind him with his chair behind his back, ready to swing. Before Winthorp could even see Jason, Hardcore Angel swings the chair, jumping as he does so for maximum propulsion. As Jason pulls the chair back, it reveals a perfect sculpt of Winthorp’s head. Darkrites falls, very limp, onto the canvass next to Savage. This time, Czarina fails to help her partner and goes after the Spaniard. The fire in Pennell’s eyes would strike fear into a thousand men as he begins to swing his chair at every part of Winthorp’s body. The legs, the ribs, the neck and then the head.

The crowd reaction to Jason Pennell is very different to what it was before, he is now receiving a very mixed reaction considering Winthorp’s actions earlier. Pennell doesn’t seem to mind this new atmosphere as he continues to wear out the chair on Winthorp. Pennell then drops the chair and then, strangely, stands on it. Holding his new straightened chair, he open it up and stands it up next to Winthorp. He then hoists the deadweight of Winthorp and holds him up, whilst trying to grab the chair with his free hand. Jason then puts Winthorp’s head through the gap in the chair at its hinge and then locks him in a here quarter face lock. The crowd sense something big is about to go down and get off their fat American arses and stand up. Pennell then gives a ferocious yell and drops backwards. Winthorp’s head bounces off the chair and feels the whiplash as his neck snaps back. Once again, “HOLY SHIT” chants get going as Pennell stares down at Winthorp, who is now bleeding from the mouth.

::Jimmy::
We need medics, now!!

::Ray::
He’s gotta have serious internal injuries. That’s redemption for you.

In the midst of this ultra violence, Czarina was kicking the crap out of Pederoso in the corner. Pederoso could do nothing but try to cover up as the Devil worshipping Czarina throws stiff kicks to the head and chest, driving whatever oxygen the Ped man had left, out of him. Chris is then hoisted up and leant against the turnbuckle as Czarina steps back four feet and charges at the Spaniard with her head ducked down. The bulky shoulder of the toughest woman in EVPW is buried deep into the diaphragm of Pederoso, causing Ped man to double over in agony. Czarina then throws another kick to the head of Pederoso, causing him to fall to the ground. The gleam in Czarina’s eye seems to suggest she’s had another malicious idea. She quickly throws Pederoso onto the second rope, facing the crowd.

Czarina hoists her right arm in the air, energizing the crowd before running to the opposite side of the ring. She rebounds and accelerates towards Pederoso. Very skilfully, she dives through the top and middle ropes, clinging to the ropes as she swings her folded legs around. Before he knees can connect with the head of the Spaniard, Pederoso ducks underneath, causing Czarina to land on her feet inside the ring and spin uncontrollably. Pederoso had to think fast in order to capitalize on the situation, and did so as he grabbed the nearby steel chair. Dented it may be, but none the less effective as he swung for the fences, in time for Czarina turning to face him. The chair connected with the face of Czarina, causing her to spin before falling to the ground. Pederoso gives a scream of adrenaline, exciting the crowd.

::Jimmy::
Good grief, that was some fucking chair shot!!

::Ray::
Yeah, but look at this. The only two men in the ring are Jason Pennell and this Spanish dude. For god sake, these guys don’t deserve a title shot.

Pederoso looks over yonder to see Pennell outside of the ring, folding a ladder. Chris decides to play possum and let Angel do the hard work. So inevitably, Pennell folds up the ladder and throws it into the ring, and quickly follows suit. He then lifts the ladder and looks up, positioning the ladder underneath the priceless prize. He takes a quick recon of the area before climbing the ladder; he does so with great difficulty as he seems to be favouring his right leg. Pederoso quits the act and launches himself at the ladder. He reached the top of the ladder in time to stare into the now worried eyes of Jason Pennell. Ped gives a sick smile before launching a right hand into the face of Pennell and Pennell swiftly returns the favour. The two exchange punches until Pennell’s left leg slips, opening the gap for Pederoso to pummel Jason.

With a thought of ultra violence in his head, Pederoso then under hooks the chin and neck of Pennell and looks down at the mat, which is still covered with tacks. The crowd start the “PED-ER-O-SO” chants in time to watch Pederoso jump off the ladder, dragging Pennell with him. Pennell’s face is driven into the tacks that are scattered all over the ring. Pederoso’s back get’s acupunctured as he rolls around, trying his best to exit the ring. Pennell turns himself over before slipping into unconsciousness with blood oozing all over his face. Over at the announce table, Jimmy instinctively stands up holding his head.

::Jimmyy::
BAH GAWD NO!! Pennell could bleed to death right there. We need some help out here, NAO

::Ray::
Calm down Jimmy boy. Look on the bright side, neither of those guys will win now.

It looked like this was now a matter of attrition; the last man or woman with a pulse would win and get a title shot. Just as it seemed everyone had been taken out of the game, the broken and battered Proeliator started to stir outside the ring. The Pro scratches and claws his way to the ring apron, much to the dismay of the audience. He then reaches out and grabs the apron, pulling at it to gain leverage and eventually get to his feet. In one swift movement he throws himself into the ring to be greeted by the fans throwing empty cups and fast food packaging at him, even a half eaten burger slaps his face. The ladder still stands, directly underneath the briefcase to Proeliator’s advantage. He peels the burger from his cheek and begins his accent of the ladder.

What he didn’t realize what that the now recovered Psycho Savage was entering the ring with his eyes glazed over. Savage had only one thought in mind and it was utter annihilation. Proeliator gets to the top of the ladder and desperately reaches up for the briefcase, but alas, the monstrous Savage picked up the opposite end of the ladder yanks it upwards, causing Proeliator to relinquish his grip of the case and fall backwards out of the ring. His head missed the announce table by an inch but none the less his back smashed against the unforgiving floor. The only man that looked like he was physically able to climb the ladder was the vicious Psycho Savage. Was this the case?

TBC

[Winthorp Darkrites]

Pyscho Savage remains the only man standing strong in the match, everyone else however are left grounded, their bodies scattered all around the arena. Savage lifts one thunderous leg up and plants it onto the step of the ladder, the barb piercing the skin of his hands as he maneuvers his bulky body up the ladder. As Psycho Savage continues further up, the crowd begin jeering in dislike, however Savage stops abruptly and merely stares at the prize before him. Only a hand swipe away is the briefcase that holds the official binding contract that allows him a shot at any title that he wanted.

On the outside, laying on the cold hard padded surface, Czarina begins to stir. Her broken frame fidgeting as she struggles to recuperate, lifting her head slowly. The blood dripping from her wound as she only looks up to see what is going on around her. On the other side, The Italian Goth opens his eyes up, his throat feeling tight and clenched, as if he was unable to breathe. The Goth claws at his throat in a panic as he realises that some damage was dealt to his throat, the blood still flowing from his mouth as he rubs his throat vigorously. Winthorp stops as he notices Czarina, attempting to lift herself up from the ground, a sly smile etched on his face, but the pain wiping it off straight away.

Savage remains in the same spot, his eyes glued on the briefcase above him and his hands getting cut open by the second. Un-noticed underneath, The Hardcore Angel grabs onto the step of the ladder, covered in his own blood as pulls himself back up. Angel gives a big grunt and with the power of his own might, pulls himself up aggressively, the barbs digging into his skin as he uses the ladder for assistance. Savage looks down and takes note of this, looking straight up and swiping at the briefcase, trying to get a good hold over it. But the shock of the possible failure seems to have played up with Savage's brain, as his mere swipes just wave past the briefcase. Pennell begins climbing up, taking his time to save some energy as he makes his way up the ladder.

Jimmy Pate
"Look at Psycho Savage, he's just shitting his pants now and hurrying for the briefcase. But he's really getting nowhere, possibly like in life, huh Ray?"

Ray White
"Why are you even asking me things anymore? I'm just a gay guy who only commentates just to see the guys."

Jimmy Pate
"Please tell me you're fucking joking."

Ray White
"You know I am."

Jimmy Pate
"Uhh, yeah. Sure, cool story bro. But anyway, Psycho Savage makes frantic swipes for the briefcase and only continues to delay his own time as The Hardcore Angel isn't far behind."

Savage turns back to The Hardcore Angel, muttering the words "Oh fuck this.", only to start kicking Pennell himself. As Pennell struggles to hold on, the two suddenly grab on tightly. The ladder tips to the side, a crazed fan had jumped over the barricade and entered the ring, tipping the ladder over and then exited the ring. As the fan makes it up to the top of the stage, he is tackled and arrested by security, the crazed fan begins screaming out Hawkeye's name as he is dragged to the security office.

Jimmy Pate
"What the fuck? Did you just see that? Some totally fucking random crowd member just jumped that barricade and interrupted the match. God, I hope Savage and Pennell are okay."

Ray White
"They're both still in the ring, although Savage seems to have the ladder lying on top of him. Ouch, that's gotta hurt."

And so Ray White was right. Savage squirms as the 15 foot ladder lays on top of him, the weight of the metal crushing him and the sharp barbs piercing his skin. He screams in pain as he tries to lift the ladder off of him, but the pain appears to be too much for the giant as it simply falls back on top of him.

Winthorp tries to lift himself up, but his crushed throat says otherwise, keeping him down and out of action for awhile. However, Czarina is able to lift herself up, wiping the blood off of her face as she does so. She turns her head slowly and stares at the fallen Italian Goth, who still struggles to rise up from the ground. With her previous new found emotions, she limps over to The Goth and stares at him. She clutches her head as she screams, "My lord Satan, WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!", the crowd laughs at her as she spirals slowly into madness. But Czarina ignores all of this and lowers her arms, she bends forward and reaches down towards Winthorp, grabbing his hand softly and assisting him up to his feet. The Goth looks at her inquisitively as she does so, wondering if there is some sort of deception to follow, but there is nothing. Czarina simply helped him up to his feet, but her intentions remain unknown.

The Goth raises an eyebrow, a trickle of blood flowing down his face as he looks at The Satanic Vixen blankly. Winthorp nods and turns his back on her, Czarina swooning slightly as he makes his way towards the ring. Winthorp raises an arm up to grab the bottom rope, but turns around almost instantly, kicking Czarina in the abdominal region and raising a knee up against her forehead. The Goth jumps up into the air and lands on his back, the concrete force sending a shockwave down his spine, but the force transferring through his body and into the knee, which clashes with Czarina's head. Czarina jumps back and lands on the ground with a thud, her eyes rolling back as she lays spread eagle on the ground. The crowd cheer for some odd reason.

Jimmy Pate
"Cliffhanger to Czarina, which leaves her broken and defeated. In fact, she looks dead to me now Ray."

Ray White
"That was one of the hardest Cliffhanger's i've ever seen Jimmy. Especially since it was on the outside of the ring, so there's more power in this one than usual."

Jimmy Pate
"Although it's quite weird, Czarina has been showing some hesitation towards Winthorp during the entire match. Perhaps she isn't feeling too well as of late, especially after she was forced to say I QUIT, into a microphone on her own show."

Winthorp gets back up to his feet, a smirk on his face as he looks at the damage that he had just dealt. Czarina's body twitches as she remains utterly unconscious, The Italian Goth pays no attention to this however and just climbs back up into the ring. Winthorp looks around the ring and spots the ladder lying on top of Psycho Savage. Making hasty action, The Goth moves closer towards Savage and takes a hold of the ladder, grunting loudly as the barbs cut into his hand once more. Winthorp moves the ladder, but away from the center of the ring, instead propping it up against the turnbuckle corner on the opposite side. Winthorp lays it out against the turnbuckle and turns back to the two superstars laying on the ground, thinking quickly, Winthorp simply lifts Pennell back up to his feet.

The Italian Goth takes a hold of Pennell's wrist and pushes him against the rope, whipping him forward into the ladder and chasing after him immediately. The Hardcore Angel stops himself just in time using the top rope and pushes himself out of the way as Winthorp dives into the ladder, missing Pennell completely. Feeling nothing but a combination of pain from both the steel ladder and the barbed wire, Winthorp drops to the mat with a thud, droplets of blood staining the mat. The Hardcore Angel drops to a knee as he takes time for a breather, the whole scene replaying itself in his head as he breathes in heavily, narrowly escaping a possible defeat. Pennell gets back up to his feet, the camera lights flashing viciously as many snapshots are taken by the crowd. A great feeling of pride rushes through his body as the fans cheer his name, as well as the term "Mr. Money in the Bank". Jason turns around, but stops in his tracks instantly, standing in front of him in a state of complete recuperation is The Proeliator. Pennell cocks his arm back and fires a punch, but The Pro ducks under and wraps his arms around the waist of The Hardcore Angel, helpless, Angel waves his arms around frantically as The Proeliator lifts him off of his feet, arching his back slightly as he brings Pennell into the mat with a German Suplex. The crowd cheers once more as The Proeliator stands, a feeling of triumph in the air as he raises an arm happily into the air. The words, "FUCK YEAH!" being yelled out as he moves towards the ladder.

Jimmy Pate
"This is it, it's all in The Pro's end of the court now. All he has to do is just bring that ladder into the middle of the ring and climb up to grab the briefcase. He's as good as the winner now."

Ray White
"God damn it, he came out of fucking nowhere. Just like a creeping Goatse."

Jimmy Pate shudders.

Jimmy Pate
"Don't ever mention that, ever again."

TBC:

[czarina]

Pro bent down and picked up the instrument that would chafuer him into the upper echelon of EVPW. The simple pull to the center of the ring proved to be laborsome for the battered Proster, yet he did it. He then set it up and made all of the proper adjustments before his giddy little digits reached up and squeezed the coglomorate of steel and wire. Slowy each rung became instant past in his mind, the prize ahead grew nearer...and nearer. Half way up and it appeared to be clear sailing. It was a shame he didn't do a bigger scan of the area though. The very man he had just sent hard to the canvas with a German Suplex was getting up. Hardcore Angel, the only one in the match who, at that point, was in any position to foil Pro's victory, began to pull himself up using the ropes.

After the battle within itself was over, Jason stood against the ropes yet his actions were oddly dormant. He did not make a hasty fight for the ladder, or even a climb up it. Instead, Pennell slumped through the ropes to the apron of the ring where he settled in against the ropes, facing in towards Pro's back. Jason knew the sacrifice he'd have to pay to seal the deal, and despite feeling much like Afghanistan back in late 2001... bombed out and depleted... the Angel of Macrabe set forth in his endeavour. He hauled his tortured body to a stand atop the top ring rope, and after it dipped down, he launched from it. His body flew through the air in vinatge ribbit-frog style fashion; becoming lost in the thousands of bulb flashes. The man who had born three faces; a demon, then a Fan Favorite, and now an Angel, proved himself justly in the eyes of the most hardcore and ruthless collection of souls... the fans. His hands went out in front of himself and his legs much the same, all making a meet on the wire clad ladder. Pennell yelped loudly as the sharp ends stabbed and the steely teeth ate at his flesh, but he remained glued to the ladder.

He quickly took note of the perfection of his landing and location of Pro's head, which was directly under him. Leaving Pro with no time to react, the Hardcore Angel dropped down a rung and wrapped his legs around Pro's head and then pulled himself loose from the ladder. With a powerful grunt and the use of perhaps all of his remaining energy, Jason completed a backflip, which in turn forced Pro into one also upon losing his grip on the ladder. The pair hit the canvas with ungodly impact, and found themselves in even more trouble. Well, Pro anyways, for his face, chest and stomach was diddle-dazzled with seemingly countless thumbtacks. Pro slowly rolled, and convulsed onto his back as the camera moved in for a close up of the only things sticking from his body; the small round discs of the top of the tacks. Jason rolled away and screamed in unbearable pain from the affliction that suddenly shot through his ankles, shins and knees.

JP: REVERSE FRANKENSTEINER OFF OF THE LADDER! How did Jason do it? How is he even standing, thinking, hell even breathing for that matter? How- OH MY GAWD, the ladder just tetter-tottered and fell on top of them. That is the second or third time Jason Pennell has stole the show tonight. Somebody give that son of a bitch a medal or some fucking medical attenion... NAO!

Ray: Yeah! Where did those lazy ass medics go anyways? They came down and carted Ricky's sorry ass away but didn't bother helping any of my hawt, sweaty, bloody, fiesty men in there.

As the turmoil in the ring reached a all time high, the plot thickened outside. A remarkable sight to behold; Czarina moving ever so slowly towards the arpon cloth that bore the dual likenesses of the Dragon's Rage Champion and his brash young rant-full challenger. She lazily lifted it up and reached under, but went limp for a moment as her eyes glazed over from the still suffering effects of that Cliffhanger. Nearby, Winthorp began to stir in the same pace as his hated, bitter foe. The rest seemed to be the worse for wear which indirectly put either one of the Goth's in the driver seat. Czarina finally mustered enough to pull her hand out from under the apron to reveal a container of gasoline and a single book of matches.

The crowd roared in support of her. Come on, who wouldn't? The bitch was as tough as they come and had the mindset to equal her Dark Saviour's. And, as a pre-requirement to be a EVPW fan, you must love FIRE! Her destoryed, defeated body trembeled and quaked as she slithered into the ring once more and crawled, not walked, to the middle of the ring with her can of gas and matches. Her head wearily shifted and saw that the man who made her same those humiliating words was moving also, yet he had no clue as to what she was doing... nobody did. She pulled and tugged the ladder off of the two men buried under it then twisted off the lid and made quick work of emptying the contents of the container all over the ladder and wire.

The spectacle unfolded brilliantly from there, Czarina slowly rolling away and playing possum with the same "sell-ability" of a Jake Diamond. She tossed the container out of view and hid the matches in her hand as she took up a very car-crash victim position on the mat. Darkrites soon emerged with great use of the ropes and once he spun towards the bodies upon bodies of destroyed bones, muscle and cartalige, he smirked and bent down, securing the ladder greedily. If he hadn't been in such a war, or a better mind set period, he would have took a second look due to the smell of gasoline alone. However, he did not. Glory of victory clouded every good sense about him. He kicked the legs out and started climbing, often looking down to see nobody moving a muscle, or at least not moving enough to pose a threat. His climb continued unabated until alas, he was at the mountain top. His eyes gleamed as he slowly rose his didgts to grasp his key to greatness. But two words loudly echoed from below him, two words that for once in his life struck fear... "HAIL SATAN"! The flame from the match had already been lit and tossed, and his weakened body gave no quickness to react as the flames raced up the ladder and licked lustfully around him. The tounge of the flames tasted his upper torso some and part of his right arm before the sick Goth forced himself into a sun set flip off of the ladder. After slamming onto the mat and bouncing, Winthorp didn't stop rolling. Although he was not on fire still, it sure felt like it. Finally he came to a stop and squirmed in place as the camera did another great close up of the action. The red welts and long dark red burn marks covered large swaths of his upper body and arms, which in turn earned the Satanic Vixen some new fans.

JP: I'll be a spot monkey's bare ass uncle! The sick, twisted bitch just tried to burn Winthorp alive. This has gone above and beyond a mere ladder match for a contract between her and Darkrites! And in doing so, Czarina has just made it impossible for anyone to climb the ladder - including herself.

Ray: They should have never let a woman into this match. You see, Jimmy, I was right all along. Women don't belond in here, in wrestling period. They belong about, well, no less than two feet from the stove cooking dinner. This is bullshit! How am I supposed to look up Psycho Savage's skirt thingy now that he can't climb the fucking ladder?!?!

A lone stage hand came trotting down as he is required to do, with fire extinguser in hand. For some reason though, the rookie Czarina made a oppsie and used the ropes to dropkick through them, knocking the save-the-day handiman to the floor, the fire eliminating device rolling away on the padded floor. She looked back into the ring and smirked at her little "F__K YOU" to the rest of the competitors whom had spent all match abusing her and breaking her. Savage, Pedman, Pro and Hardcore all wallowed and fought and fell and fought again to finally make it all back to their vertical base and noticed what she had done.

Like a lynching mob in hunt for the big bad witch they all exited the ring and tried to cut her off. And just when it appeared she was trapped, the crowd started looking and motioning up the ramp. Czarina's stablemates Chris Pyro and Ivan Archer were on the way carrying a outrageously long ladder atop their shoulders. The hard steel tip of it met with Hardcore Angel's head first and then three quick rams with it sent Ped, Psycho Savage and Pro to the floor hard. They then power plunged it into Winthorp's already burned and beaten body before sliding it into the ring and pushing the flaming lader over with it. From there, they set it upright perfectly under the prize. Satan's Little Helper trailed in but was clearly not up to the task of the seemingly endless climb, so she motioned for Pyro to help her. He did just that, scooping her up onto his shoulders like a dad would his daughter and started to climb. Ivan maintained guard at the base of it, roaming around it just to make sure nobody got in the way of her destiny. The crowd jeered their hearts out and threw food and beverages galore, making a bad scene like a bad WCW Nitro episode.

JP: Damn it! Don't tell me this is how it's gonna end! That woman is as cunning and tactically brilliant as they come. She has got a free ride to the top and a fresh warrior to stand guard at the bottom of the ladder. She is literally gonna STEAL this one away from every single competitor in this match.

Ray: AHHHH somebody just hit me with a burger! WHO THE FUCK DID IT? Look what happens Jimmy! Just look! What is it you say when we have this debate about women in EVPW? What is it..."Oh hush Ray, women have every right to compete".. now what do you say? This is what happens when women run wild here, a damn highway robbery!

TBC:

OOC- Sorry I couldn't put more detail in it. Bit of a rush job again and the 37 hour deadline thing is quickly coming.