K. Stalker vs. S. Dreamer }{ IMPERIAL TITLE - ...

[x | S.DREAMER | x]

Through the roaring Lockdown Hall crowd, the challenger, Shawn Dreamer emerges and heads out for the ring. He finds the guard-rails on his way - over which he hops - and enters the ring, soaked in cheers and positive remarks.

TBC Hayden;

(( Good luck, man. Let's tear the house down. ))

[Deleted]

I will edit a decent entrance in a few days, here's a skeleton for the mean time.

Kasabian enters with Dr. Symmes to a humiliatingly cheesy song. Dr. Symmes orders him into the ring, where he looks set to vent all of his pent up frustration out on Dreamer.

The pair lock into a staring battle, while Symmes brandishes a wooden cane, looking hell bent on finding some excuse for punishing Kasabian for his wrongdoings, should he slip up.

TBC Dreamer

[x | S.DREAMER | x]

The champion and the challenger keeps on with their stare down as the referee calls for the bell, sending the chime to cut through the brisk air and set the audiences’ adrenaline to pump harder. The combatants remain still for a while, before the challenger walks off his corner and starts to circle the ring, getting his adversary to follow suite eventually. The two takes a circular lap around the ring before starting to move to the centre, locking proverbial horns as they collide in the middle, in the form of a neck and tie lock up. Even though it seemed that the weight advantage of Dreamer would enable him to take the upper hand, it’s the champion who uses his dominance to outsmart the challenger. Kasabian, fully focused to bag the victory here too, plants a quick kick to the abdomen of Dreamer, bending over the Floridian in an inverted L. Clutching his stomach, the Hardcore Prince slowly backs up, but can’t get too far as the Pervert catches him by his tresses and pulls him back to him. The Undefeated champion then wraps his arm around the neck of Dreamer, much like a squid constricting its prey within its tentacles, before falling flat on his back, whooping the Floridian off his feet and his skull to crash against the dusty fabric with a thud. The spectators grasp, Ray White leaps off his seat and Kasabian slowly clambers up to his heels as Dreamer grabs his head in pain, twitching and twisting vigorously as if he was lying over a bed of thorns. Up on his heels, the Pervert takes his time and watches his opponent’s suffering while running his hand over his chest, trying to relate the misery with that of a squirming, deflowered virgin. But then, the King Stalker isn’t let to carry on with his disgustful antics for long as Dr. Symmes bangs her cane onto the canvas, gaining the attention of the champion and reminding him how he would be punished if he continues with his actions.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if you just stumbled onto the feed, welcome to Madhouse and you are in for a match you don’t want to miss. It’s the big main event with Kasabian Stalker and Shawn Dreamer locking horns, and it’s for the Imperial championship!”

“Not to mention how my boy, Kassie, has taken out the puny-punk prince, Dreamer. It’s a waste of time for Kasabian to break his sweat and face a man as such; I say the match is over before it started!”

“Folks, don’t mind of my colleague’s insolence since he has a knack of jumping off the gun every now and then. It’s going to be a huge match for sure, and I, for one, believe that we might see the long-time dream of the Hardcore Prince come true!”

Grabbing the shoulder long tresses, the bald champion lifts his adversary up to his heels, with yellow canary birds still flying around the skull of Dreamer. Still not recuperated enough, the Hardcore Prince gets up on his wobbly toe to face the champion, who drives his forearm instantly onto the noggin of Dreamer. The hard blow to the side of the head sends the Floridian stumbling, but doesn’t let him get off the perimeter of Stalker’s attacking range. Boosted with momentum, Kasabian sends his forearm to crash against the skull of Dreamer again – this time connecting with the lower jaw. Knocking a few bars of composure with the stiff shots, the Perverted Mind from Chi-town wraps his arms around the waist of Dreamer and situates himself behind the Jacksonville’s finest – a position where you don’t want to be with Kasabian. Grinning up to his ears, the Shameless Mastodon thrusts his pelvis onto the buttocks of Dreamer before lifting him up in air and sending him over the rainbow and down to the canvas with a thud, neck first. The German suplex, with much unnecessary theatrics, sets the Extreme Technician to scream out loud in pain and roll away, before landing outside over the softly padded floor. As if the screams of his adversary was as appealing as the seventh symphony of Beethoven, Kasabian closes his eyes and hurls up to his heels, enjoying every second of what he is hearing. But then, the moment he opens his eyes, he finds Edith standing right in front of him and…

“WHAT WERE YOU DOING THERE?!”

The female psychologist screams at the face of Kasabian as he runs his hand down his face, not expecting his associate ruining all the fun. Seeing how she’s not getting the attention she wanted, Dr. Symmes whips the champion’s ass with the cane, punishing the Stalker and protruding a sharp scream, in turn.

“Next time, you’re going to get it harder!”

Warning the Chicago native for his first strike, Edith leaves the ring with the champion following her tracks, with a huge scowl on his face which would burn holes onto anyone. He keeps his eyes glued on the psychologist till she walks out of the ring and takes her place at ringside, fuming heavily like a Spanish bull.

“Look at that, Ray – Edith is totally taking things up to Kasabian! I must say that Mr. Zero and Matt had finally got something good on the table!”

“She’s a devil woman, I tell you! I wish I could gather a huge mob with pitchforks and torch and chase her out for good! But then again, these people are as blind as you, Jimbo…”

“Blind? Tell me something, when did Kasabian do something good in the ring, other than being a hell of a pervert?! It was totally unappealing, and I say...”

Angered to the fullest and tired of all the humiliation, Kasabian decides it’s about time to end things up and so he does as he gets out of the ring, exiting through the ropes and getting on the side where Edith stands. He locks eyes with his associate for a split second – sending proverbial fireworks and sparks of all sorts – before grabbing a ladder from the floor by its rungs. The Second City Pervert then walks back to the ring and slides the ladder under the bottom rope, before following its suite and getting between the ropes too. Once in, Stalker picks up the ladder once again and sets it up in the middle, right under hook in which the title is being suspended. Properly locking the hinge in the middle, the first dual champion since EVPW’s rebirth starts to ascend the ladder, taking each rung at a time and slowly climbing up to the glory above. The crowd, vocal as ever, jeers at the top of their voices as the Pervert slowly makes his way up the staircase to heaven, looming closer and closer each minute. But then, before the Master of Perversion could even have a finger on the strap, Dreamer is spotted to dash inside the ring, after being silent for long enough. He quickly takes things up to Kasabian with a huge club to the spine, followed up with several more of same type, but using alternate fist each time. The relentless blows from Dreamer put a halt to the climb of the Stalker and sets him stuck onto the ladder, as if he was Peter Parker and had ability to hang on like a spider. Seeing how things aren’t working out his way, the Eldest of the Dreamer Dynasty charges back at the ropes, only to bounce back and dart back at the ladder, on which the Stalker hangs like an Australian Koala. Once hitting vicinity, the Hardcore Prince falls down to the ground and shoots his legs forth, hitting the bottom part of the ladder hard with a baseball slide. The momentum-filled shot sets the ladder to wobble vigorously, and eventually fold and fall aside. But to much dismay of Dreamer, joy of Ray White and shock of the crowd, Kasabian jumps off the ladder at the last moment – defying odds like a well-trained stuntman – and lands safely over the canvas, on his heels.

“That was something that no one saw coming! Kasabian has shown exactly why he should be the champion, regardless his bad attitude and his sick mannerisms!”

“Jimmy, it’s a shame how you can’t understand the fact that Kassie is the hottest wrestler in the world today. He’s not only talented in the ring; he also knows how to treat women… and even men, like me!”

Landing safely on the ground, the Perverted Champion flips around and finds Dreamer to clamber slowly on his heels, with no idea of what’s waiting on behind him. Seeing how things might slip if he doesn’t assert himself, Stalker darts at the challenger and sends him flopping down at the canvas once again with a big boot to the back of the head, connecting with a thud that could be heard from the furthest corner of the hall. With his adversary lying lifeless by his boots, the Undefeated Mastodon snickers and eyes the crowd, taking his time to flame the crowd that hates him to the core, setting them on fire and scream out all the foul words they know. But then again, the jeers and boos seem to appeal the King Stalker; his smile grows to his ears as the crowd screaming at an ear-deafening volume. Done playing with the crowd, Kasabian bends over and grabs the arm of Dreamer, before starting to pull him to the centre of the ring, much like a tigress pulling the carcass of her prey after hunt. Having nothing but outer space in front of his eyes, Dreamer simply couldn’t resist the tow of the champion, and eventually ends up lying in the middle, much kudos to the Chi-Town native. Half done with his plans, the champion gets on to accomplish the rest as he walks over to the spot where the ladder lies and lifts it up, before walking back to the centre. He then parts the ladder with an amused face, as if he was spreading the legs of a woman, and pulls the challenger in between, trapping him like the filler of a knuckle sandwich. The champion then points at Edith and smirks, before starting to run his hand down his baby-oil and sweat soaked body ever so sensually, giving the psychologist a huge frown. The Pervert then charges forward at the ladder and lunges forward, attempting to splash over it and squash the Hardcore Prince stuck in the middle in the process. But then, all that Kasabian finds is the steel contraption under him as he soars down through the brisk air; the veteran EVPW original has crawled out of the predicament before the Stalker could even strike. Thud, rattle, jingle, and a loud scream – that’s all that happens after the Second City Pervert lands over the ladder and bruises his chest. A huge chant of “FUCK YOU, STALKER!” breaks out from all corners right then, spreading salt all over the wounds of the Pervert.

While Stalker screams and whimpers in pain, the Hardcore Prince is seen to shake his head and slowly scramble to his heels. Once regained his vertical base, Shawn returns the favour to Kasabian – that is, drag him somewhere – and sets him seated on the corner, supported by the bottom turnbuckle. The Extreme Floridian then grabs the partially dented ladder and sets it right on the lap of Stalker, placing it in such a manner that it’s aligned with the face of the champion. The former TV champion then marches to the other side and starts to ascend the turnbuckle, climbing swiftly up to the apex and then turn his face to the ring.

“Oh my, that’s Dreamer on the top rope! What’s he gonna do now?!”

“Someone has to fuckin’ stop this!”

Dreamer, with vengeance gleaming in his hazel eyes, leaps off the top rope and soars through the air, with his feet pushed forward. The veteran instincts of the Hardcore Prince once again come to play as he connects with a picture perfect corner-to-corner missile dropkick onto the ladder, slamming it against the skull of Kasabian. The hard shot to the crown – much like a cumshot – knocks the light out of Kasabian with a gunshot and gives Dreamer the opening he has been wandering around for long; the Floridian grabs the ladder and sets it in the middle of the ring, trying to initiate his climb toward glory and his lifelong dreams.

TBC;

((I had a lot of ideas, and incorporating them to one was totally a bad idea. Had to cut and snip a lot, and it ended up this huge! Oh well, good luck, bro.))

[Deleted]

Dreamer begins the all important climb, title gold and bragging rights hanging above him. Eagerly, he continues on, hand over hand and foot over foot. Below him lies the battered body of Kasabian Stalker, still seated in the turnbuckle from the Coast to Coast attack. Shawn climbs, his mind focused on only one thing, and soon, all else fades away in his journey toward the title. When the Hardcore Prince reaches the top of the ladder, he extends himself upward, his fingertips grazing the cool metal of the title belt. With hunger in his heart, her clutches the title, trying to unfasten it from the hook that holds it in place. As he does so, he feels the ladder wobble underneath him. Looking down, his heart almost leaps into his throat. Smiling up at him is the Champion himself. Dreamer grabs at the belt a second time as Stalker shoulder charges the ladder again. The ladder falls over sideways, leaving Shawn Dreamer stranded, hanging from above, still clutching the title that seems so close, yet just out of his reach. He does his best to unfasten the title while hanging from it, but those plans are soon foiled by the pesky Champion as well.

Stalker jumps, grabs around Dreamer’s waist and hangs by the hem of Shawn’s pants. Kasabian wriggles as he feels the pants move slightly under his weight, a twisted idea forming in his brain. To Dreamer’s horror, he starts to feel his attire slipping downwards, as his opponent does his best to downtrail the defenceless Dreamer. Dreamer lets go of his vice grip on the title with one hand to pull his pants back up as his bare ass is exposed. However, his single hand is unable to support both his and Stalker’s weight, and he soon falls to the ground, the title slipping from within his grasp.

”Unique offense by the Champion there, looking to get Dreamer away from his title by any means necessary!

”I saw ass! I definitely saw exposed buttocks. Oh boy, I’m going to be fantasising over that image for months!”

”Oh Ray… You sick bastard. Somebody oughta slap some sense into you one day.”[/i]

Although he had saved himself from defeat, Stalker is still in no shape to carry on the offensive for too long, and Dreamer knows it. The Challenger wastes little time in turning the fight back to Kasabian, and the Champion is soon overcome by his opponent’s persistence. Dreamer plants his stamp on the match with a Belly to Belly Suplex, drilling the Champion into the mat with force and knocking the wind out of Stalker’s proverbial sails some more. Kasabian lies motionless as Dreamer retrieves the toppled ladder from its resting place against one of the ring ropes. He does not budge as Shawn places the ladder atop him, spanning from past his head to well down below his feet. Kasabian tries to move, but cannot summon the energy from his battered body, as Dreamer climbs the turnbuckle once more. With fire in his eyes and a smile on his face at what he is about to do, Shawn Dreamer sets himself up, looking out over the battered Champion, all the opportunities in the world suddenly laid at his feet. With that thought in his mind, Dreamer jumps.

Shawn flies through the air, picking up good hang time for his efforts. He swings his legs around in front of him so that he would fall in a seated Leg Drop. The clang that accompanies his landing reverberates around the arena. Dreamer crashes into his target, landing across the ladder-covered chest of Stalker, and driving the unforgiving steel into the Champion’s body again. He receives a groan of pain from the Champion for his efforts, while Dr. Edith Symmes falls somewhat quiet outside the ring, waiting for Stalker’s punishment to be complete. Still reeling from her wrestler’s attempted downtrail of the opponent, Edith had taken somewhat of a different approach to the match, and now flashes a smile toward Stalker’s opponent, egging him on in laying into the naughty Champion. Dreamer looks at Symmes sideways, unsure about the sudden change of allegiances, but the matter is of little concern to him, especially after flashing a second glance at the title hanging above him.

”Shawn Dreamer just about drove that ladder through Stalker’s chest. I’d be checking for broken ribs after that.”

”Ooh, I’ll play doctor with him… I’d be happy to check.”

”Do the words ‘restraining order’ mean anything to you Ray?”

”Sure, I collect them!”[/i]


Dreamer stands the ladder up once more, looking to open it up and climb toward his prize again. However, with the battering it had gone through in picking apart the Champion, the legs are bent around each other, and the ladder will not open. Try as he might, Dreamer cannot pull the ladder’s legs apart. Eventually he gives up and tosses the ladder out of the ring in frustration, watching it land just in front of the commentary desk. Shawn Dreamer turns his attention back to the man in the ring, looking to vent his frustrations on Stalker the old fashioned way. He helps the Champion to his feet gingerly, before wrapping his head under his arm and driving him back into the mat in a DDT that echoes throughout the arena. Stalker is tossed about like a rag doll, not even bothering to fight back. The satisfaction it gives Dreamer to drill Stalker’s head into the mat does not go unnoticed by the cameras, nor does it go unnoticed by Dreamer. He soon helps Stalker to his feet again, looking to further the punishment before searching for a new ladder. He lifts Stalker from behind into a German Suplex. However, what he does not plan on is the Champion’s awareness. Stalker shifts his bodyweight sideways in mid flight, throwing Dreamer off balance. The pair tumble to the ground, Dreamer landing awkwardly on his ankle and Kasabian coming crashing down on top of him. The extra weight is enough to cause Dreamer to cry out in agony, as his foot is crushed under Stalker’s body. The pair wind up lying side by side, the proverbial stalemate seeming to be the case for both men.

”Despite Dr. Symmes’s bizarre turn of alliances, this match is still going strong. A small window of opportunity created by Kasabian Stalker gives a little insight into why he is the Champion. He might have just clawed his way back into this match.”

”Like a naughty cat – Meeow!”

”Any time you want to contribute something worth saying Ray, feel free. One of these days, somebody is going to realise that you don’t actually add anything to this commentary team and I’m going to get a new partner… One can only hope.”

”Ouch JP… Don’t be a hater.”[/i]

As Jimmy groans at his partner’s annoyance, the match carries on. Looking to pick up where he left off, Stalker scrambles to his feet. He notices Dreamer clutching at his ankle and makes a mental note of the injury for further on in the match. When he does swoop in, he hoists Dreamer to his feet. Dreamer limps along to Kasabian’s will, going along with the game as Stalker flings him viciously into the corner turnbuckle. The booting and punching that follows resembles a schoolyard fight, a bully against the crippled kid. Before long, it is Dreamer’s turn to be pummelled into a seated position in the corner. Shawn sits on the canvas, his head resting on the second turnbuckle as he tries to recuperate from Stalker’s educated feet and fists. Stalker has other ideas, the Perverted One backing up across the ring. He runs his hands down his oiled up body, almost seductively. As he does so, he stares down at his manager, Edith Symmes, playfully flicking a handful of his sweat in her direction. The disgusted look on her face says a thousand words, but goes unnoticed by the Pervert. He brings his hands in front of his trunks, feeling up his manhood over the top of the shiny olive green fabric. Working himself into a “state”, Stalker dashes across the ring, aiming himself at the head of Shawn Dreamer. Erection in tow, Kasabian leaps into the air, planting himself onto Dreamer’s face and berating his head and shoulders in a Bronco Buster. The scene is one of almost horror, as Stalker leaves little to the imagination, his usual antics getting the better of him for a moment. However, the one person who is able to do anything about it, Edith Symmes seems pre-occupied, still trying to get drops of sweat off her pristine face with a handkerchief. Dr. Symmes had missed the whole scene. By the time she had looked up again, the booing crowd can only suggest as to the type of activity that might have just occurred. Stalker flashes her a wink and a wave, before turning his attention to getting his title back, leaving the Hardcore Prince battered, broken and violated in the corner.

”That’s the Kasabian Stalker I know and love. My, my, he is a “big boy”… Yeah, I was looking.”

”Ray, the next words out of your mouth had better not be about Kasabian Stalker’s manhood, or I am going to chop yours off.”

”Well, funny you should say that, because they were going to be about MY manhood, not Stalker’s… I was just going to mention the effects he has on me.”

”Sweet Jesus H. Christ Ray… Shut your face right now, or I will drive a fist through it!”[/i]

Stalker busies himself in the search for a ladder, feeling the title above him calling his name. Smiling, Stalker is only too happy to oblige. He drops down and rolls out of the ring, searching for a new, working ladder.

TBC SD

[x | S.DREAMER | x]

Stepping outside the box, the Pervert starts to scope the surroundings around him, trying to find the best ladder that would lead him to the championship strap that’s calling his name. He scratches the little trace of beard under his chin while he does his scanning, and in the end, it seems none of the ladders seem to appeal him – be it folded or the erect. Disappointed to some extent, the Epitome of Perversion sulkily walks up to the ring, before pulling off the skirt of it, revealing the said land of hardcore. He starts to probe his eyes through the darkened space, ever so attentively, trying to find the best for his need, before his eyes glistens up in joy. He sets his hands in and pulls out a golden ladder, which is longer than the usual ones – roughly around twenty feet high. The Lord of Obscenity then pushes the ladder in by sliding it under the bottom rope, before following it’s suite and get inside the squared circle once more. Back between the ropes, Kasabian grabs the ladder by its rungs once again and sets it up in the middle, right under the title that hangs and oscillates ever so gently. He takes a look at his fallen adversary – who shows no sign of recuperating anytime soon – and starts his climb up the ladder, taking one step at a time toward glory and triumph above. Like a mountain climber heading up the wall of a mountain, Stalker takes the time of his life to climb up the steel contraption, taking safe steps and devour the title above his head at regular intervals. However, keeping his focus fully on his climb and the title doesn’t enable the King Pervert to see what’s happening at the ground level, and in turn, causes him to miss the rise of his adversary. With strands of hair sticking over his face, the Hardcore Prince rises up to his heels, teeth gritted and face contorted in utter rage.

Bobbling with composure and anger, the irate Floridian marches up to the ladder and start to shake it, getting the Stalker to grab onto the rung for his dear life – much like a gorilla trying to save himself from falling off a tree with tremors afoot. Seeing how his act isn’t quite helping him, the former TV champion hits the reverse gear and hits the ropes, only to bounce back and sprint at the ladder with extra, additional velocity. Sporting blazing inferno in his pupils, the Floridian Extremist tackles the ladder with his shoulder blade, causing it to topple over like a badly constructed tower, and send the man on-board – Kasabian – down over the dusty canvas. The layout of the champion’s visage remains almost the same – filled with shock – as he crash lands over the dusty canvas below, accompanied by a comical thud. Squealing like a pig in distress, Kasabian rubs his arm that acted as the shock absorber during the fall, trying to wither the pain throbbing down his veins. While he is at it, the finest Jacksonville has to offer is seen to slowly hurl up on his bearings, rubbing his reddened shoulder blade throughout his rise. Once up, Dreamer sets his eyes onto his prone adversary and starts to march up to him, puffing like a steam engine as he strolls down the path. Hitting vicinity, the Extreme Technician kicks the twitching champion on his back, hard enough to cause him to roll and slump over the padded floor outside. Still livid to the fullest, the male United Glory champion flips around on his heels and picks up the ladder lying on the ground, before tossing it over the top rope and crash atop the vulnerable champion. A loud rattle and a sharp scream accompanies the crash of the ladder, and the crowd bursts out to cheers right away, loving how the Obscene Champion is in tremendous pain and the way he got buried under the ladder.

“Kasabian is buried alive and that’s a twenty feet ladder over him right there. I doubt if he would be in one piece after this match tonight; this has gone really intense, and back and forth.”

“Did someone use ‘back and forth’ and ‘intense’ in the same sentence?! Oooh, I got another boner!”

“Christ, someone needs to get this idiot out of here before I beat this guy to a bloody pulp!”

Burying his adversary with the metal contraption, the Uncrowned Prince lets out a roar, letting off his steam, and in turn, gets the crowd to scream out in joy. The cheers of the audience soon transitions to a loud, unison chant of “Let’s go, Dreamer”, with the fans from all corners trying to rally Dreamer all the way to victory. Soaked in cheers from the loyal EVPW fanatics, Shawn decides that it’s about time he ends it, and so he does, walking over to the ropes facing the commentary table and exit the ring, in search of a ladder that would turn his dreams to reality. Picking a regular ladder from the floor, the Floridian Prince gets back to the ring and sets it up in the middle, checking the hinge twice before he sets to climb it. The spectators, fired up since a while, give out another loud pop as Dreamer starts off with his ascension again, pulling his battered frame up the ladder by the aid of the rungs, much like a climber resuming his way up to the apex after a day-long blizzard. With every inch of his muscle seeming to give up, the will-power of Dreamer drives him to try and climb up the stair, up to the apex where the big gold belt awaits him, swinging ever so gently and gracefully.

“If you believe in dreams come true, you are witnessing one out here, ladies and gentlemen. Shawn Dreamer – his three years long journey down the EVPW for the Imperial championship is finally coming to an end, along with Kasabian’s long winning streak.”

“Bah, as if I care! Come on Kassie, get up and make me proud again, boy!”

Meanwhile, outside the ring, the Naughty Champion is seen to finally show life and trying to remove the ladder off him. It takes a while for his twitched nerves to enable him to do so, but he gets it off eventually, pushing aside the weight that kept him stuck with the padded floor. The Pervert – now freed to the fullest – takes in a huge breath and scrambles up to his heels, with gooey mixture of sweat and baby oil dripping off his chest. Kasabian then looks up to the ring and finds his worst nightmare underway; Dreamer is almost up on the top rung of the ladder and is probably a meter away from the glittering strap. Dumbfounded how things has speed up during his slumber – much like the Rip Van Winkle story- Kasabian scratches the back of his head, before the big light bulb pops and glows over his head. With a perfect blueprint to save his chances formulated inside his thinking panel, the Perverted Champion picks up the larger ladder from the ground and places it between the ring and the guard-rail in such a way that the ends are being balanced by the apron and the railing. The raunchy champion then backs up by a few steps and gives the bridging ladder a good look – whether it will stand or not – before hopping over the apron, getting back between the ropes once again.

The sudden change of mood of the audience gets the sixth sense of Dreamer to tingle hard, and he decides to take a look back, only to be struck by a bolt from the blue. Standing right behind him, roughly eleven feet below, is the reigning champion, the Prince of Perversion, Kasabian Stalker, grinning ear to ear. Without any warning or what so ever, the Illinois Ill-Face pushes the ladder forward, toppling it over and sending Dreamer flying off it, landing awkwardly over the bridging ladder with a loud clank. Spine arched like a Sagittarian’s bow, the Floridian gives out a sharp scream, while Kasabian eyes him vindictively, as if he was enjoying his adversary’s agony like it was nicely orchestrated symphony. But then, the goofing off champion is taken aback by a womanly scream – a voice that’s enough to bring up a scowl on his face.

“AREN’T YOU DONE ALREADY?”

But then, faster than a woman could change her mind, the mood of the Stalker changes; the vexed eyebrows loosens apart and a sarcastic smile gets etched upon the face of the champion. The resident Stalker of EVPW then turns around, facing Dr. Symmes standing outside, before starting to run his hand up his olive trunks and then his chest, collecting excessive amount of sticky oil and sweat as he does. Edith, having a bad experience with Kasabian and his antics, steps back a few steps, getting the champion to burst out to laughter. Pushing the envelope to the furthest limit, the champion licks off the content of his palm with a pleased face, garnering noises of puking from the bleachers. The Imperial champion then turns his attention to his prone adversary and makes a dash at him, clocking a speed even a regular cougar couldn’t match, before leaping over the top rope and crashing right over him…

*CRACK*

Unable to hold the combined weight of Kasabian and Shawn, the ladder breaks from the middle with a loud snap, taking both the competitor down along with it. The crowd, ecstatic at the sight of this, breaks out a chant of “HOLY SHIT!” from all corners – a tradition that has followed over the years at the sight of something extreme or astonishing.

“Oh my… that has to be the centrepiece of the highlight we’ll air next week!”

“And that’s my boy, Kasabian, giving us another moment we can always put in for the highlight reel. And hey, I meant that licking off the baby-oil thing… it was so damn awesome!”

TBC;