PRIME #44 - LIVE from The Auditorio del Estado

[PRIME]

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LIVE *

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WARNING: This live event contains stunts performed by professionals or under the supervision of professionals and maybe unsuitable for younger viewers. Accordingly, EWC and its producers must insist that no one attempt to recreate or re-enact any stunt or activity performed in this live event.

The Extreme Wrestling Corporation presents
EWC PRIME
EPISODE 044
FEBRUARY 17TH 2019



LIVE FROM THE AUDITORIO DEL ESTADO IN MEXICALI, MEXICO

EWC PRIME
FEBRUARY 17TH, 2019
LIVE! from The Auditorio del Estado in Mexicali, Mexico
Commentators: Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler
Announcer: Damon Reid
Senior Referee: Niklaus Forbes
Backstage Interviewer: Jenna Salvatore

While 'Could've Been Me' by The Struts blares over the loudspeakers, golden fireworks light up the sky in a display that shines brightly regardless of it is day or night. Brilliant blue spotlights swirl over the cheering crowds, whipping them up into a near-frenzy of excitement at the show to come.

Cameras flash all around the arena as the Mac-Tron cycles through Prime's roster. Aaron Whalen, Aeon Khronos, Brutus, Carlos Ruiz, Candy, Carrie Samson, El Pablo, Frankie Romono, Freddie Styles, Jonty Kelly, Jordan Sharpe, Khaos, Killjoy Ito, Kristian Bane, Nevaeh, Orion Samson, Richard Garcia, Stitches, Terra Walker, Trixie, and Waylon Graves are all featured. After one final pan over the crowd...

The camera centers on ringside, where Micah Everett and Sandra Amsler sit. As soon as they notice the camera, both commentators smile, though it's clear that they're not smiling at each others' company.

Everett: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to another blockbuster episode of PRIME! I am your expert play-by-play analyst, Micah Everett... and once again, I am saddled with Sandra Amsler.

Amsler: Saddled with?! I'M the one saddled with YOU and your outdated, knuckle-dragging, backwards bullshit!

Everett: See what I have to deal with, EWC faithful? These working conditions are deplorable. You all should be thankful I'm willing to weather the proverbial storm of profanity and ignorance to share my knowledge with you all.

Amsler: If only you were only sharing knowledge with us... but y'know what? Beating that dead horse is fucking pointless. Instead, let's focus on the action coming our way tonight as the G1 continues!

Everett: We will delve into those bouts, including our Main Event in which dull as dishwater Richard Garcia defends the Indy Championship against a very game and very boring Carlos Ruiz, in a moment. Before we do that, our opening match features a returning Freddie Styles going up against Brutus and Kristian Bane in a triple threat that is bound to be watched closely by management!

Amsler: Not only that, but we've also got a strange bedfellows tag team match between FSW's Hope Diamond and Gabrielle Visconty facing off against PRIME's own Carrie Samson and Terra Walker! Call me biased, but I hope Carrie and Terra wipe the floor with both of those obnoxious little bitches.

Everett: ...we will see how things go. Now, let's get into the nitty gritty and look at these G1 groups, starting with Group A!

Amsler: Go ahead, boys. Bring up the graphic!

Everett: At this point, Frankie Romono and Xavier Reid both run the risk of their hopes of making the finals dying if they don't pick up a win... and as luck would have it, they're facing each other tonight. One man will rise, and the other will be left to fall.

Amsler: Eesh, kinda' macabre to put it like that, ain't it? Though that kind of grimness is better suited for Jordan Sharpe, since he's going up against Stitches who has been nigh unstoppable so far. I think Jordan can pull off the upset, but that wily fucking clown's not about to make it easy.

Everett: Speaking of wily, the wily and gorgeous Nevaeh looks to continue her winning ways against an old nemesis in El Pablo. I, for one, can't wait to see her turn him into a rainbow-colored smear on the canvas!

Amsler: Of course you can't,you old pervert.Anyway, onward to Group B!

Everett: Hm... is there something wrong with the A/V guys in the back?

Amsler: I don't think so?

Suddenly, 'Could've Been Me' hits the sound system... and the crowd rises in response, loudly cheering Marshall Evans as he emerges from the back. While he's dressed as nicely as always, his smile's not as wide as it usually is. Motioning for his music to be cut, he brings his microphone to his lips and gets right down to business.

Evans: Sorry for the technical difficulties, everyone... and for the interruption, Micah and Sandra. However, there's been a change to Group B that I felt needed to be addressed by me personally. As I am sure the fans both here and at home are aware, Khaos is not scheduled to compete tonight. Not only that, but he posted to his Fighter Talk shortly after the last episode of PRIME stating that he was too injured to compete at our next two shows. While the nature of his injury is not known to myself or Hayley, we wish him a speedy recovery. With that being said... Khaos being injured has left Hayley and I no choice.

A pause; by now, Marshall's expression is utterly serious.

Evans: We must follow the rules of the G1 in declaring that his remaining matches have been determined to be forfeit by injury. As such, Candy, Jonty Kelly, and Carlos Ruiz will all have two points added to their totals. Thank you. Boys, bring up that graphic so my announce team can do what they do best. Have a good evening, everyone, and enjoy the show.

And with that, Marshall heads back behind the curtain, the graphic coming up as he does.

Everett: What a bombshell! As unfortunate as Khaos's injury is, there's no denying the ripple effect it's had on Group B. It turns out Candy's getting herself two points even though she's facing Dominic Sanders. A two point jump for losing to EWC's Undisputed Champion's not too bad of a consolation prize, wouldn't you agree?

Amsler: For one, that dickclown's name is Saunders. Y'know, like that old as shit colonel. Also, Candy's gonna use his bones to begin rebuilding her Candy Castle. Just watch.

Everett: Watch her lose, you mean... but that aside, Killjoy Ito and Jonty Kelly are facing off for the second time, and this one is PERSONAL. Jonty blames Killjoy's manager, Tommy Love, for not qualifying for the G1 because he can't own up to his failures.

Amsler: Translation: Tommy Love stuck his hand where he shouldn't have and everyone knows it. The people that deny it are just delusional morons, present company included.

Everett: It's not nice to talk about yourself that way, Sandy.

Amsler: Ugh... someone cut to commercial before I strangle this son of a bitch.

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MATCH 1
<<TRIPLE THREAT>>
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BRUTUS Vs
KRISTIAN BANEVs
FREDDIE STYLES

Everett: Oh, we're in for a real treat. Our first match of the night features three nobodies that only other nobodies care about. So, naturally, I don't know anything about them.

Amsler: You're the worst play-by-play in history. Freddie Styles returns to PRIME after an extended hiatus. Kristian Bane is a long time EWC veteran and sometimes he rubs me the wrong way but he could break out at any time! And Brutus, well, he looks to avenge the tough loss he suffered in his debut. This will be a great showcase of new talent and you'd see that if you paid attention worth a damn.

Everett: I highly doubt that, Amsler, but if you want to play make-pretend, let's play make-pretend.

Amsler: Let's just give them a chance. I can see them all going places. As they say, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

Reid: The following match is a triple threat match and is scheduled for one fall! First, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 223 pounds... "MR. BALLGAME"... FREDDIE STYLES!

The lights go down, Nomads by Ricky Hil ft. The Weeknd starts to play and all you see is a silhouette of a man, forming a diamond with his hands above his head as the opening riff hits. The song moves into the verse, Freddie steps out from behind the curtain as he just stands there in his hooded vest, hood over his head, bouncing from side to side, before making his slow walk towards the ring.

Reid: And his opponent, from Cincinnati, Ohio, weighing in at 315 pounds... The Bringer of Bane... KRISTIAN BANE!

The arena goes dark, a slow booming sound can be heard and BAM! Pyros shoot off as 'The Vengeful One' blares. Kristian Bane walks out in front of the crowd. Bane walks methodically to the ring. He waits in the ring for his next victim.

Reid: And finally, making his way to the ring... from Detroit Michigan, accompanied by Joe... BRUTUS!

The lights in the arena go dark, before a low thumping sound comes over the arena speakers and Hail To The King by Avenged Sevenfold starts to play. The tempo steadily gets faster and faster, before three pops of pyro go off in time with the final beats of the music and a spotlight shines on the center of the entrance ramp. Brutus stands front and center, arms outstretched as his manager Joe comes out from behind him. He points his ivory and gold cane at Brutus, almost poking him before they continue down the ramp.

DING DING DING

All things considered, Freddie Styles has his work cut out for him and he knows it. Bane and Brutus were nearly twice his size. Styles ran back and forth between the behemoths with chops, kicks, whatever he could deliver in an attempt to take down either one. He almost succeeded when Brutus is briefly distracted by his manager, Joe. However, all he really succeeded in doing was angering Brutus and he was  sidelined with a Fight Me Bro! for his trouble. Before Brutus could follow that up with The Pulverizer, in came Bane to square off with the second biggest man in the match.

Everett: 'Bout time those two faced each other. I don't even know why Freddie Styles is in this match! Brutus and Bane each have almost a hundred pounds on him.

Amsler: Like they say, the heavier they are, the harder they fall.

Bane and Brutus trade blows back and forth while Freddie took a breather in the corner. This went on for quite some time, each man gota couple of big moves in. Eventually though, after he dished out several consecutive hits upside Brutus' head, Bane ran off the ropes looking for the Hit N Run, but BRUTUS ducked and Bane ran eight into a Freddie's Ballgame! But before Freddie could do anything, Brutus leveled him with a clothesline of his own before grabbing the wobbly legged Bane and Pulverizing him for the three count!

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... BRUTUS!

Everett: I'm a little disappointed. I was expecting so much more, yet less at the same time. Does that make any sense?

Amsler: Not even a little bit. Brutus may be green as a bean, but he put the hurt on at the right time to get the victory.

Everett: I'm sure he'll forget all about it.

Amsler: At any rate, congratulations to Brutus for his win tonight. He finally gets in the win column. We've got some more Prime G1 action going and it's next!

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The camera picks up Xavier Reid as he enters the Auditorio del Estado, there are a mixture of cheers and boos from the Mexicali fans depending on what side of the Volando Family feud they are on. Xavier turns the corner and is heading towards his locker room when he sees Nikki Dupree who is marching towards him.

Dupree: Xavier, there you are, we need to talk!

Reid: Nikki, where the hell is Tlatoani? He ditched me at the hotel.

Dupree: That's what I want to talk to you about.

Nikki grabs Xavier by the hand and walking him towards his locker room, she pushes the door open and the room is full of his Volando family members. 

His uncle Sr. Espejo, his other half brother Vertigo, his cousins Perdido, Abando, Chiquitita, Verana Mereiles, Koko, Voltro, Otro and Tlatoani along with a non masked girl standing in the middle of the group.

Reid: Aren't you my driver?

Tlatoani Volando: Xavier I can explain, I got a text from Chiquitita that The Family was here and plotting an attack on El Pablo so I took your driver and rushed over here to stop them.

Xavier marches up to his cousins Perdido and Abando.

Reid: I told you two NOBODY was to touch him until I face him in the G1.

Perdido Volando: Yeah, well you were overruled Xavier.

Abando Volando: Yeah, you were overruled, so we rounded up the family to finish this once in for all isn't that right guys.

There is a loud YEAH as the masked family members hold up an assortment of weapons and canvas body bags.

Reid: I told you he was off limits.

Villano Volando: He's not off limits to ME!

Xavier's monstrous uncle Villano Volando steps up and stands behind Xavier.

Villano Volando: I let this go on too long. I WAS willing to give you your shot Xavier but you have failed over and over again here on Prime and I don't expect tonight to be any different so while you go out there and lose again WE WILL END EL PABLO once and for all!

Perdido Volando: We are going to bury him so deep this time there will be no digging out.

Abando Volando: Yeah, like 12 feet this time.

Tlatoani Volando: I tried to talk some sense into them but.

Sr. Espejo (in a terrible Mexican accent): He's the patriarch of the family Xavier, we must do what he says. El Pablo must be ended here tonight. I'm sorry...

Xavier turns to face his uncle.

Reid: NO! Listen to me, I am going to end him at Prime #046. We are not going to do it this way. Jerry, be the voice of reason here.

Xavier turns to plead his case with his other uncle Jerry Volando but he doesn't see him, the others look around but Jerry Volando isn't in the room.

Reid: Where is your dad, Tlatoani?

Tlatoani Volando: He came with us from the hotel.

Tlatoani looks at their driver who just shrugs her shoulders.

Driver: He offered to park the car for me so I could come in here with you.

As she looks from Tlatoani to Xavier there is a knock at that door. A Prime Staff member is standing there.

Prime Staff Member: Xavier, we have a problem out in the parking lot, you need to come with me.

Xavier follows the staff member as does the entire family. They make a turn and walk out the door where EMT's are surrounding a giant canvas bag that is unzipped showing the masked face of Jerry Volando.

Tlatoani Volando: DAD!!!!

Tlatoani rushes over to his father but is stopped by one of the EMTs.

EMT: He have a back brace and cart on their way, we need to be careful moving him, he was attacked with this stuffed doll of a clown wearing a pimp hat and a t-shirt that reads "Bitches get Stitches" and this was laying next to him.

The EMT holds out a bag of Skittles.

Tlatoani Volando: He's a dead man.

He looks over at Xavier.

Tlatoani Volando: I'm sorry Xavier but this is personal.

Reid: I can't do this, you know what. Do whatever you guys want. I have a match to get ready for.

Xavier storms off with Nikki Dupree as the Volando family circles around Tlatoani to figure out a game plan.

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MATCH 2
<<G1 MATCH>>
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FRANKIE ROMONO Vs
XAVIER REID

Everett: Our first G1 match of the night features two men that desperately need a win here to even have a snowball's chance in Hell of making it to the finals. It's also the first qualifiers rematch, if I'm not mistaken.

Amsler: Whoa, you not being a hundred percent sure of something?! Are you sick?

Everett: I feel fine, Sa--

Amsler: Quick, someone call me a doctor! Clearly, my broadcast colleague is too ill to continue and needs to be locked away in a hospital until he's better... and by better, I mean dead!

Reid: The following G1 match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 207 pounds... FRANKIE ROMONO!

'Absolute Zero' hits the sound system, the crowd giving a mixed reaction as the Black Heart emerges from behind the curtain. His walk down to the ring is simple in nature, no muss or fuss as he ascends the stairs and enters the squared circle, taking his place in his corner as he awaits the arrival of his opponent and his music cuts.

Reid: And his opponent, from Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, weighing in at 210 pounds... the X-Division Champion, XAVIER REID!

'Papercut' blares from the speakers as the overhead lights dim and white lights flash to mimic lightning. Xavier Reid walks out onto the stage,the X-Division Championship around his waist, his arms crossed in a X over his chest as he stands at the top of the stage and looks out towards the ring. Smirking at the sight of Frankie Romono, Reid makes his way down the ramp, the fans booing the interloper from FSW as he enters the ring. Taking off his title, he hands it to a ringside attendant as his music fades.

DING DING DING

There was no handshake before the bell rang, no signs of good will... just a glare from each man toward the other and, when the bell rang? The two men got right up close with one another, staring the other down as the trash-talk flew. It was Reid that got in the first blow, the smaller man pouring it on thick to eventually send Romono into the ropes before he connected with the X-Ploder for the two! After Frankie kicked out, Xavier was quick to get to his feet, the desire to outshine the other members of his family in their homeland driving him to continue his onslaught. Unfortunately for Reid, an Irish Whip reversal was enough to send him into the ropes only to be caught by Romono and driven into the mat with a Samoan Drop, the BlackHeart taking up a mounted position and laying into the Bastard of Volando with rights as the crowd cheered him on!

Everett: It looks like Reid's commentary in his second promotional video for this match struck a chord, and so now Romono's striking HIM!

Amsler: YEAH! THAT'S WHAT YOU GET, YOU CONDESCENDING SHITBAG! BREAK HIS LIVER BONES, FRANKIE! WOO!

As if responding to Sandra's hollering, Romono kept up the barrage, ultimately driving Reid into the corner before connecting with his trademark running knee. Frankie was smelling blood in the water as Xavier crumpled to the mat, the fans loudly supporting the PRIME wrestler as he leaned down to drag his opponent to his feet to finish him off. Whether it was born of desperation or experience, Xavier snagged Frankie's arm and dragged him in as if to go for a small package... but instead of going for the pin? Reid locked Romono up in the X'ed Out, the crowd cheering as Romono did his damndest to fight his way free of Reid's version of the Hell's Gate Triangle Choke! As Frankie's movements grew more lethargic, the cheers faded out in favor of boos that grew deafening when Frankie was ultimately choked out by Xavier, the Blackheart's consciousness giving out before his will to hang on did. Reid jaw-jacked to the crowd as his hand was raised in victory.

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via submission... XAVIER REID!

Everett: I'll give credit where it's due; Frankie Romono didn't go down without a fight. However, at the end of the day, he went down nonetheless to EWC's X-Division Champion.

Amsler: God DAMN it, Frankie! You were supposed to keep Xavier Reid at zero points!

Everett: No need for that kind of blasphemy, Sandra. Even with this win, though, Reid's got one Hell of a road ahead of him if he wants to make it to the finals.

Amsler: And if there's a God, that condescending prick will wind up being ran down on said road. Repeatedly.

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The camera cuts backstage, where we see FSW guest star Hope Diamond exiting the locker room.

Diamond: Hello everybody. I haven´t seen my tag team partner so far. Maybe she is still a bit upset about the last episode of RAMPAGE so let me be clear about one thing. The tag team tonight is about FSW pride and honor. Gabi´s FSW and I am FSW and although we´ve proven we can pin the competition anywhere we are both doing this for FSW. The current GM might be a pain in the ass but if the past is any indication of the future he´s like a bad cold. Comes in week one, stays for week two and leaves in week three. I´m still Team Orange and I´ll behave that way.

Hope nods to affirm her point before she continues.

Diamond: Second, I´d like to apologize to Carrie for throwing her in the same pot with the Cliftons and called Lynx her sister. That was one insult I hadn´t planned but honestly somehow you look all the same to me. Perhaps I'll get a chance to sort this out in Denver with the guy who thinks he´s your daddy.

Hope smirks, knowing full well that the comment she's making is bound to get under Carrie's skin.

Diamond: Other than that, expect Gabi and me to be thick as sisters tonight. We both want the PRIME rib for dinner.

A wink and Hope saunters out of the shot, the cameras cutting to ringside soonafter.

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MATCH 3
<<G1 MATCH>>
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JONTY KELLY Vs
KILLJOY ITO

Everett: Up next is the bout that, shy of the Indy Championship matches, has been the one with the most buzz around it in Group B as Jonty Kelly looks to right the perceived wrongs of the past by playing spoiler to Killjoy Ito's hopes of returning to his winning ways.

Amsler: As much of a cocky bastard as he is, Jonty Kelly didn't deserve to be fucked over like he was during the G1 qualifiers... and with Quinn Collins in his corner, I think he's got the answer to the puzzle that is Tommy Love's meddling.

Everett: I don't know what the shared delusion is between you, Jonty, and his side piece, but you all need to drop it and stop slandering Tommy's name!

Amsler: Jesus, it's a wonder that you can speak, as firmly as your lips are planted to Love's ass!

Reid: The following G1 match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at 235 pounds and accompanied by Tommy Love... KILLJOY ITO

The lights fade out as 'Deeper Deeper' begins to play, a single white spotlight hitting the stage where Killjoy Ito is standing. He swings around to face the camera and the ring as his manager 'The Memphis Mouthpiece' Tommy Love walks out onto the stage, his custom tennis racquet in the air. The fans jeer the duo as they head down to the ring, neither man paying them any mind. Ito climbs into the ring, Tommy following suit to collect his client's jacket and threaten the referee before leaving the ring.

Reid: And his opponent, from Melbourne, Australia, weighing in at 225 pounds and accompanied by Quinn Collins... JONTY KELLY!

The sound of a bullet being fired echoes through the arena, before Heavy is the Head begins to play. Smoke begins to fill the top of the entrance ramp. Eventually, Kelly bursts through the smoke, wearing a mouth mask with a bullet between teeth design on it with Quinn Collins following behind him. Making their way down the entrance ramp, Kelly enters the ring and immediately jumps on a turnbuckle and poses as his new manager applauds her client. Kelly then climbs down and takes off his mouth mask, passing it to Collins.

DING DING DING

While Quinn Collins and Tommy Love traded barbs at one another from their respective positions, Jonty Kelly and Killjoy Ito were quick to engage in a duel of near-misses and athletic feats that was cleverly disguised as an opening exchange, the two not so much feeling each other out as reacquainting themselves with each other. The fans hit their feet in support of the display when it came to an end with Jonty and Killjoy crouched in front of one another in the middle of the ring, sides heaving before they got up in near-perfect unison. Tommy's loud demands to his charge to take Jonty out was heeded, the crowd booing as Killjoy immediately snapped a vicious kick into his opponent's abdomen before sending him into the ropes, catching him in a suplex that transitioned seamlessly into a neck breaker over Killjoy's knee! Collins was apoplectic on the outside as Ito went for the pin, a collective sigh of relief being released by the crowd and Collins both when Kelly kicked out at two.

Everett: Considering how badly Killjoy's neck was almost injured in his bout against Carlos Ruiz last show, it's not at all surprising that the Young Lion would use that experience to ensure his victory here. Brilliant!

Amsler: Y'know, this whole 'It's only okay if someone I like does this!' bullshit is getting old really, really fast. I have to admit, though, that at least it's a legal tactic which is a nice change of pace for Ito.

Ito set himself for the Killshot, trying to end things quickly, but Kelly saw it coming and fired off a dropkick that brought Ito down to the mat. After the dropkick Kelly went on a tear of fast-paced offense, always onto the next assault before Killjoy had time to recover. The longer the match went, the more visibly agitated Tommy Love became, fidgeting with his tennis racquet. At the end of a long series of assaults against Killjoy, Kelly was setting up for the JK47 kick when Tommy Love could take it no more and jumped up onto the apron to distract. As the official and Kelly turned toward his verbal assault, Quinn rushed over and yanked Tommy Love off the apron! He stumbled, but only his pride was hurt, and he started taking that out on Quinn. Kelly turned away to continue his assault, but Killjoy had been given a chance to recover, so when he went for the JK47, Killjoy ducked it, charging into the ropes for momentum, and blasted Kelly with the Kill Shot running knee, quickly pulling Kelly over and pinning him as the crowd booed furiously!

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via method... KILLJOY ITO!

Everett: HA! Stick THAT in your pipe and smoke it, Sandy! Killjoy Ito just beat Jonty Kelly for the second time!

Amsler: And this time, he didn't even need his manager to do his dirty work. I'll give him credit where it's due... Killjoy looked impressive tonight. Then again, so did Jonty. This match really could've gone either way, and Killjoy only picked up the win by the skin of his teeth.

Everett: You mean that if Kelly hadn't focused so much attention on Tommy Love, then maybe he would've won!

Amsler: No, I... y'know what? The first guy from production to bring me a roll of electrical tape in the next five minutes gets twenty dollars.

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Backstage, we find Koko and Voltro Volando interrogating the vendor of one of the merchandise stands.

Koko Volando: Look dude, we know you sold El Pablo that doll - now tell us what else he's got up his sleeve tonight!

Vendor: Seriously, mi amigo, I have no idea what you're talking about!

Voltro Volando (in an awesome robot voice): ~RESPONSE. UNACCEPTABLE. COMMENCE. INTERROGATION. LEVEL. DOS.~

Vendor: No, please! Por favor!

(Mystery Voice): Ey, primos!

The cousins turn, to find El Pablo stood at the mouth of a nearby corridor with a t-shirt cannon in his hand. Somewhere unseen, a harmonica plays an iconic musical motif. Koko, however, just rolls his eyes.

Koko Volando: Seriously? What do you think this is: The Good, The Bad and the Rainbowlution?

Suddenly, the Volandos are jumped from behind by another El Pablo, the first apparently having been just a decoy. The Tecnico rains clubbing blows upon the back of Koko, before Voltro pulls him off. EP counters by charging backwards, crushing his cousin against the merch stand. A rising Koko charges, only for EP to roll to the side, sending him crashing into Voltro. As EP gets back to his feet, he digs into his pockets, pulling out two palmfuls of loose Skittles. As Koko and Voltro attempt to untangle themselves, EP slaps a loaded palm on the back of each of their heads, knocking their noggins together and sending them both crumbling to the floor. For a moment, EP lingers, standing triumphant as he pulls a fresh packet from his pocket and tears it open.

El Pablo: A Fistful of Skittles, actually.

With that, EP takes off into the night, leaving the vendor surveying the wreckage.

Vendor: It's more complicated when there's masks involved, huh?

The camera cuts back to ringside.[/color]

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MATCH 4
<<PRIME VS. UPRISING TAG MATCH>>
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CARRIE SAMSON AND TERRA WALKER Vs
GABRIELLE VISCONTY AND HOPE DIAMOND

Everett: Up next is an interpromotional attraction between FSW and PRIME.

Amsler: PRIME seems to be getting a lot more attention from the other brands since the G1 started. Not that I blame them. This week it's a tag team match.

Everett: A tag team match featuring four women who have no right to be in the same ring as each other.

Amsler: I don't think those words mean what you think they mean. The teams will certainly be dysfunctional, but the women definitely deserve to be in the ring with whoever they want and/or whoever they are booked to fight against. You'll see things my way eventually, Micah.

Reid: The following tag team match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Honolulu, Hawaii, weighing in at 112 pounds, she is the EWC Television Champion... GABRIELLE VISCONTY!

"Oh Lord" by In This Moment hits the sound system as Gabrielle Visconty slowly walks out from the back, stopping at the top of the ramp. She looks around a moment before heading off towards the ring at a soft jog. She hops up on the ring apron and looks out over the crowd, offering a mischievous smile and wink, then springboards herself gracefully into the ring.

Reid: Her tag team partner, from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at 160 pounds... HOPE DIAMOND!

The intro of "Being Evil Has a Price" blasts out of the sound system. Hope appears on the top of the ramp and raises her arms to greet the booing fans with double rock horns. Hope struts down the aisle. Hope steps through the robes and makes a show out of rolling her shoulders and cranking her neck to get ready for the upcoming match.

Reid: Their opponents, first, from Dallas, Texas, weighing in at 119 pounds... CARRIE SAMSON!

Bright lights quickly start floating around the arena as "Roundtable Rival" by Lindsey Stirling begins to play. Carrie Samson saunters out onto the stage with a smile before bouncing down the ramp. She leaps onto the ring apron, but stays there as she waits for her partner to get to the ring.

Reid: Her tag team partner, from Oxford, England, weighing in at 132 pounds... TERRA WALKER!

"Honeysuckle" by The Dillinger Escape Plan ambushes the PA systems. The lights go frantic, with multiple colors flashing, and multiple spotlights searching around, causing the anticipation and anxiety throughout the crowd. Terra Walker pushes through the raucous crowd with aggression, until she finds a willing group that crowd surfs her to the barricade where she hops own near Carrie, and they both enter the ring.

DING DING DING

It was immediately apparent that neither of these teams were cohesive. Gabrielle and Carrie did their best to be supportive, with Gabrielle showing complete faith and vocal support, but Hope and Terra were there to hurt people. Hope threw her weight around early, taking advantage of being the largest competitor in a series that ended when she blasted Carrie with a torture rack backbreaker. When she went for the cover, Terra flew from the top turnbuckle with a double foot stomp to break it up. As the official forced her out, Hope dragged Carrie to her corner to tag in Gabi, and the pair performed a drop toe hold (Hope) and double knee facebreaker (Gabi) combo, but Terra was able to break that pin up as well.

Everett: The FSW team is being surprisingly effective at isolating Carrie Samson. Terra looks impatient to do some damage here.

Amsler: I don't claim to be her biggest fan, but she's definitely going to have to get in there soon if she wants to win this match for team PRIME.

FSW looked like they had the match locked up, but Gabi's penchant for playing to the crowd was her undoing. She let Carrie recover enough to hit a dropkick to her back, shooting her forward. Gabi staggered, and as soon as she recovered her footing, she charged with a clothesline attempt that Carrie neatly bent back to avoid. Gabi tried to stop and attack on the way back, but Carrie rolled under the attack and tagged Terra who came in like a house on fire. She ran right past Gabi and leaped up with the help of the top rope to nail Hope in the face with a running knee strike. As Gabi rushed toward her she nailed an exploder suplex, and as Gabi was trying to scramble to her feet, Terra hooked her in for Magnitude 9 and planted her face-first! As she covered Gabi, Hope was recovering, but Carrie rushed in to nail a low dropkick to Hope before she could get back into the ring, resulting in a three-count and a win for team Prime!

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winners by pinfall... CARRIE SAMSON AND TERRA WALKER!

Everett: FSW's reps were looking strong, but once again, emotions have cost someone a match.

Amsler: I know you have an rational fear of emotions, Micah, but it was a lack of focus that cost Gabi this match. That and Terra just having too much fire in her belly once she finally got into the match.

Everett: Don't you mean irrational fear of emotions?

Amsler: For most, yes. But no woman with functioning brain cells will endure you, so you've learned to resent the emotions that prove their humanity. It's sad, but it doesn't mean you get to just blame everything on them.

Everett: Do you count as a woman with brain cells? Because right now it's me having a hard time enduring you.

Amsler: Good. If I can figure out how to make you feel this all night, I can eventually get a broadcast partner that isn't made of fail and misery.

---

---

From the backstage area, Nevaeh is seen preparing for her match when the camera.

Nevaeh: The more I think about it, the more I believe my match should have taken place at a cemetary. I mean, we are supposed to see the resurrection of El Pablo.

Nev rolls her eyes.

Nevaeh: At least that's what he thinks anyway!

She adds with a snicker.

Nevaeh: But the truth is, I'm going to bury any chances he has in this G1 tournament with my victory tonight. I know that will be a bitter skittle for him to swallow. And quite honestly, I hope he chokes on it with the rest of his family and friends watching!

Nev is heard laughing out loud as she walks out of view, the camera cutting to ringside shortly after.

---

---

----------------
MATCH 5
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------

NEVAEH Vs
EL PABLO

Everett: Up next we have the talented, amazing, and beautiful Nevaeh going up against El Pablo.

Amsler: Your inner creepy old man is showing, Micah. Again.

Everett: What are you talking about?!

Amsler: You know EXACTLY what I mean. Now shut up and let's get this match going!

Reid: The following G1 match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Las Vegas, weighing in at 195 pounds... EL PABLO!

Search lights scan across the stage and over the raucous crowd as 'Freeee (Ghost Town Pt. 2)' by Kids See Ghosts begins to blare from the speakers. As the overdriven guitar of the verse kicks in, El Pablo bursts out through the curtain, tossing a palmful of Skittles into the air. His masked head hides beneath the hood of his self-promoting sleeveless sweatshirt, though a beaming grin is still plainly visible as the Technicolour Tecnico bounces down the ramp towards the ring, bantering and fist-bumping members of the crowd as he goes, on the way to the ring.

Reid: And his opponent, from Toronto, weighing in at 124 pounds... NEVEAH!

Once "Gasoline" by Porcelain and the Tramps is heard, Nevaeh comes walking out from the back to a chorus of boos. But judging by the smile on her face she doesn't seem to mind. As she makes her way down the aisle, Nevaeh does her best not to let anyone touch her long the way.

DING DING DING

The match started off hot with Nevaeh rushing Pablo and Pablo rushing right back. The two former champions traded blows back and forth with neither person giving an inch. Pablo connecting an elbow strike between Nevaeh's eyes but before he could capitalize Neveah spun around and connected her first to his jaw with a nasty thud. Pablo was rocked and left the door open for Neveah to drill his head into the canvas with a spike DDT that would have knocked a normal man out for a hundred year or more! Neveah dragged Pablo up and would hit a one armed bulldog and get a solid two count. From this point in the match it was all Neveah, she hit two snap suplexes, another spike DDT and to top it all off she finished with a German Suplex, with a bridge! Pablo would kick out and try to fight back but to no avail as Neveah landed a third spike DDT.

Everett: Ha, I told you all Pablo wasn't anything more than a chump!

Amsler: If anyone would know a chump, I guess it would be you.

Neveah attempted a spear but it was countered by Pablo who would then go on to hit a flurry of springboard moves to wow the audience and prove he still had something in the tank. There was a moonsault, an elbow drop, a flying body press. Pablo would putting it all on the line in the name of the G1! However the end for Pablo would come when he ran right into a spear. Neveah would quickly pull Pablo up, place her knee behind his head and flip him down into a Fall From Grace... 1... 2... 3! Neveah picks up another win.

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... NEVEAH!

Everett: And just as I predicted, Nevaeh picked up the win and continued her domination of Group A!

Amsler: El Pablo put up a good fight but, in the end, he came up short. His chances of making it to the finals have lessened, but he's still got enough time to turn it all around.

Everett: Neveah is 3 and 0--

Amsler: Yes yes, we know. You know what else I know? That no amount of sucking up to Nevaeh is going to get her any closer to giving you her number.

---

---

Dominic Sanders is walking around backstage at the Auditorio del Estado. He walks past Carlos Ruiz's locker room where he sees Carlos and Iggy Swango talking and laughing. He stops and pops his head in.

Sanders: Well, well, well. What do we have here?

The two stop and look at him, neither one of them extremely pleased to see him.

Ruiz: What do you need help with, Señor Dominic?

Sanders: Oh.. I'm good. But it looks like you two are also. How long's this been going on?

Iggy remains quiet as she glares at Dominic and clutches the International Championship to her shoulder.

Sanders: What's wrong? El gato got your tongue?

Carlos stands up and walks over to the door.

Ruiz: Señorita Iggy is very good friend of Carlos'. She come to Mexicali to watch me fight in the main event. I not see anyone here to watch you, Señor Dominic.

Sanders: That's alright. I don't need anyone here for me. Contrary to what people believe, I am my own man. You believe in that, don't you? I mean, that's what you said to Señor Killjoy.

Ruiz: Si. I AM my own man. And Señorita Iggy is here to just watch and cheer me on. There is nothing more to it, amigo.

Sanders: Okay, okay. Best of luck to you against Richard.

Carlos looks at Sanders as Dominic extends his hand out for a handshake.

Ruiz: I not need luck, Señor Dominic.

Carlos slams the door in Dominic's face and Sanders stands there chuckling at the door.

Sanders: Heh. Okay, Carlos. Don't forget who brought you into this business!

Sanders shouts this before walking back down the hallway towards his locker room and we move back to ringside.

---

---

----------------
MATCH 6
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------

STITCHES Vs
JORDAN SHARPE

Everett: It was good to see that reprobate get what was coming to him. Nevaeh looked like she had a good time out there picking that skittle eating freak apart. But sometimes freaks are great. Like Stitches. Come one, come all, and watch Stitches tear apart mid-life crisis cry baby Jordan Sharpe.

Amsler: I don't think that will happen. Stitches went on and on about how Jordan gets put on a pedestal after a victory. I mean, I guess, it's a pretty compelling' but what do I know?

Everett: You really want me to answer that?

Amsler: No. I'd like you to shut up. Stitches ain't been so rosy himself lately. He was supposed to keep the TV title in Prime and he goes and loses it before the Prime G1 begins. So maybe he needs to lay off what Sharpe can and can't do.

Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from the Carnival of Shattered Dreams, weighing in at 260 pounds... STITCHES!

Stitches methodically makes his way down the ramp, staring down the crowd members who dare lean too far over the crowd barricade. As he reaches the bottom of the ramp he stops and once again looks out at the crowd of people before him. Stitches approaches the nearby steel stairs, climbs up onto the apron and begins walking the edge of the apron like a tight rope before reaching the nearby ring post. Stitches climbs up onto the second rope and throws his arms out wide for the crowd to embrace him. As expected, the crowd does not embrace a sinister-looking clown.

Reid:And his opponent, from Woodstock, New Brunswick, Canada, weighing in at 220 pounds... JORDAN SHARPE!

It's pitch black when 'Mein Herz Brennt' begins to play and then, as the lyrics begin, it changes to deep red. The fans cheer as Sharpe comes down to the ring.

DING DING DING

Before the bell even stopped ringing, Stitches blindsided Sharpe. With a hand on the back of Sharpe's skull, he tossed him out of the ring nonchalantly as if Jordan were garbage to disposed of. He gave a nasty scowl to the official and within the time constraints of of a 10 count, he beat Sharpe from pillar to post. To top it off, he pushed him head first into the ring post. Stitches reset the count to admire his word. A nasty cut was opened over the right brow of Jordan and the clown could only smile. From there, he was taken back into the ring. Momentarily, there was a glimmer of hope as Sharpe kicked free of the Carnival Pretzel and then fired himself back up with multiple clotheslines that forced Stitches into the corner. He seized on it, going for that Freaking Boot. And Stitches moved.

Everett: Close but no cigar, Sharpe. You tried to escape that midcard hell - well back to it, friend. Stitches is taking over.

Amsler: Stitches is jealous that more people have cared about Jordan than anyone has in his career here. That's what happens when you're a scumbag who probably didn't even graduate from clown college.

In what could be a vulgar display, Stitches exasperated the blood flow from the cut as he locked in a tight sleeperhold. Jordan struggled at first but eventually, he slumped against Stitches' chest. Blood stained the clown's ring attire. The official checked on Jordan - raising his arm once, twice, three times. However that third time, Jordan's arm did not drop, and he squeezed his hand into a fist. The crowd came to life as Jordan wriggled and fought against the sadistic clown. Finally, in a moment of desperation, Jordan creates the separation he needs with a jawbreaker. He got to his feet and thrust forward with BFPT but Stitches side stepped the blow. It seemed elementary with Stitches started to serenade Sharpe with the Sounds of Silence, but Jordan broke free of the butterfly lock and with a double leg takedown and quick jackknife pin, he surprised the clown and captured a three count.

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, pinfall... JORDAN SHARPE!

Everett: I can't believe it. That's damn impossible. Are we hiring Rampage referees? That was a fast count.

Amsler: We just saw Jordan Sharpe avenge the humiliation he suffered from Stitches last year. First, Xavier Reid, now Stitches, I think Mr. Sharpe is recapturing the spirit of competition.

Everett: Disgusting.

Amsler: I know you are. Next up, well, I don't like the guy but we've got a special guest that is indisputably a big deal.

---

---

As cameras go backstage, we see Candy sucking on a lollipop as she leans against a wall already dressed in her ring attire. Once she sees that the camera is filming, Candy brings the lollipop away from her lips and begins to speak.

Candy: So tonight marks Dominic Sanders' return to the Candy Castle.

She lets the statement hang in the air for a moment.

Candy: Will he get another victory over yours truly? He's sure confident enough. And honestly, that's just the way I want him. Because he's bound to mistake. And when he does, I'll be there to capitalize on it![/font]

Candy nods.

Candy: In that moment, Dom will realize that he doesn't have control. Only by then it'll be too late to do anything about it. I will have already put him down with my Candy Crusher and walked away with the victory! Proving to everyone that the Candy Queen still has what it takes to dominate the EWC Universe.

She licks at the lollipop.

Candy: Making that very moment alone sweet to say the least.

Candy is all smiles just thinking of it as she pops the sucker back into her mouth and skips away as we fade.

---

---

----------------
MATCH 7
<<G1 MATCH>>
---------

CANDY Vs
DOMINIC SANDERS

Everett: Ladies and gents, welcome back to Prime. We have the esteemed honor of our Undisputed Champion making a special appearance. Yes, yes, Dominic Sanders, leader of America's Most Hated, the 2018 Rookie of the Year, the most fightingest champion of all time, will step into the hallowed grounds of Prime in what one would call an exhibition match. Against some ham n' egger no doubt but Dominic Sanders is here!

Amsler: You gobbled him whole there. And he's facing Candy. You know, former Indy Champion. Former Undisputed Champion. When noone thought it could be done. She did it.

Everett: Well, not anymore. She's a two-time, two-time loser.

Amsler: Takes one to know one. I hope Candy sends Dominic's stupid handsome face into a woodchipper.

Reid: The following match is scheduled for one fall! First, from Aledo, Texas, weighing in at 270 pounds... the EWC UNDISPUTED CHAMPION, DOMINIC SAUNDERS!

Purple lights cut on around the entrance ramp as "Drop the World" by Lil' Wayne begins playing. Dominic Sanders steps out from the back in a dark purple hoodie and black wrestling tights on, finished by white boots. The hood of his sweatshirt drapes over his eyes as he stands at the top of the ramp. He glares down at Reid mildly annoyed.

Amsler: Heheheheh. Well worth the 20 bucks.

Reid: And his opponent, from Key West, Florida, weighing in at 106 pounds... CANDY!

"I Want Candy" by Aaron Carter starts to play throughout the arena, fans immediately start to cheer as Candy emerges from the back all smiles as she does a little dance at the top of the stage.

DING DING DING

Right as the bell rang, Dominic tried to surprise his WrestleFest opponent with a stiff looking lariat, trying to assert his superior size in this bout. However, Candy being keen to the tactics of Sanders, flies under the radar, spun him around, and reached up high to knock him back with forearm shots to the side of the head. From there Candy ran circles around the Undisputed champion. Every time, Dominic tried to flip, throw, or slam the former champion, she came back with frustrating counters. She countered Funky Town with a jarring elbow to the side of the head and then staggered him into the ropes with the CCR. He was on jelly legs. With a handspring off the ropes, she knocked him into the middle of the ring with an elbow. Finally, she sat out with a big Candy Blast but only for a two count.

Everett: Candy looks like she cares tonight but you know what sugar does. She'll crash, she always does.

Amsler: You're full of it tonight. Dominic is a grade A athlete but if he thinks he can diminish Candy with his sharp words, he has another thing coming. Right now, Candy is showing him why she was Undisputed Champion, too.

Candy looked to wrap things up with the Sugar High but maybe Everett foretold of things to come because Dominic got his knees up. With her smashing into his knees, he pulled her into a small package for a nearfall. Dominic slowed things down. He held Candy down on the mat with rear chinlock seemingly forever. The crowd was starting to get restless but Candy kept them into it. Eventually she fought out of it with an elbow to the midsection, but Dominic stymied her comeback with a short arm pull right into fireman's carry. Candy knew was was coming and she slipped free. Candy spun Dominic around, another well placed forearm shot, she latches with the headlock, runs up the turnbuckle for the Candy Crusher but Dominic in mid rotation, puts her right on her shoulders and drops her into a double knee backbreaker with the Riptide! He gets the three count after a heated contest!

DING DING DING

Reid: And your winner, via pinfall...

Dominic grabs the microphone from Reid and between heavy breaths, he confronted the announcer.

Sanders: You will afford me the respect I deserve. Announce me as champion. And say my name correctly. I insist.

Reid: And your winner, via pinfall... THE EWC UNDISPUTED CHAMPION, DOMINIC SANDERS!

Sanders: Thank you.

Everett: Well, that was refreshing. Mr. Sanders is professional and we thank him for gracing us with his presence.

Amsler: Don't speak for me. He can go back into his hole for all I care. Candy was phenomenal tonight and Dominic is good, too. He's still a piece of shit

---

---

---

---

<<INDY CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH>>
<<G1 MATCH>>

CARLOS RUIZ Vs
RICHARD GARCIA

Everett: It is time for the third main event of 2019, and it's still G1 season, which can only mean one thing. It's time for the Indy Championship match.

Amsler: Six people to a group means five round robin matches, so after this week, we're over the hump.

Everett: Ever insightful, you are.

Amsler: Eat my ass, Micah.

Everett: Not even in your wildest dreams. Anyway, Carlos Ruiz has a big opportunity. I remember around this time last year that he wasn't even able to keep his papers in order, and now he could walk out of this show with the Indy Championship.

Amsler: You've really shown your ass there. I can tell you've never had to sort out immigration paperwork. That shit isn't easy. And don't pretend you set up your passport, I know damn well you're only here because our bosses put the work in for you.

Everett is too busy clearing his throat to respond or throw to Damon Reid, so the camera just cuts to the ring for the intros.

Reid: The following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is a G1 Classic match for the Indy Championship!

"Bamboleo" by Gypsy Kings hits over the P.A. System and the crowd goes crazy for their Spanish Luchadore! Included in the crowd of fans is EWC's very own International Champion, Iggy Swango! The camera lingers on her until Carlos Ruiz walks out from the back posing for the crowd in his leather jacket that is zipped halfway up, pink speedo wrestling trunks, pink boots, and Maui Jim sunglasses.

Reid: Introducing first, now residing in Miami, Florida, weighing in at 212 pounds, the Spanish Luchadore...CARLOS RUIZ!

He stops on the way to the ring a couple of times to take selfies with the crowd. He slides into the ring and blows kisses to the adoring fans. He smiles as he removes his jacket and sunglasses and hands them to the ringside attendant.

Everett: After being punished justly for that heinous attack on Killjoy Ito--

Amsler: For the love of fuck, give it a rest already.

Everett: --but unjustly receiving points because the referee disqualified Ito, Ruiz is one of two people in group B to have two victories.

Amsler: And just by luck of the draw, he's facing the other one, which means whoever wins this bout will have a huge target on their back going into the final stretches of the group stage.

'Live To Win' by Paul Stanley hits as the crowd get to their feet to await the man that is about to enter through the entrance curtains. Smoke billows through the entrance curtain and out onto the stage. The lights are dim and with every guitar riff during the first verse the lights flash in unison.

"Frustrated, degraded, down before you're done"

"Rejection, depression, can't get what you want"

"You ask me how I make my way"

"You ask me everywhere and why"

"You hang on every word I say"

"But the truth sounds like a lie"

"LIVE TO WIN!"

As soon as the song kicks in Richard Garcia bursts through the entrance curtains to an uproar from the crowd, the gleaming Indy Championship around his waist. The lights continue to flash in unison with the guitar riffs. Richard Garcia screams to the heavens above with excitement and then makes his way down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans as he passes by.

Reid: His opponent, from Melbourne, Australia, weighing in at 213 pounds, he is the Indy Champion, the Phoenix Star...RICHARD GARCIA!

Once Richard Garcia reaches the bottom of the ramp he rushes towards the ring and slides into the ring before climbing up to the nearest turnbuckle, unhooking the Indy Championship, and raising it in the air with his arms spread out, eagle-winged and screaming in excitement. Richard Garcia jumps off of the turnbuckle, hands the belt to the official, and pumps himself up whilst waiting for his opponent to enter the ring.

Everett: I don't see eye-to-eye with Richard Garcia on many things--

Amsler: A fact you have made agonizingly clear over the last month.

Everett: --but I do have a modicum of respect for him, which is more than I can say for Carlos Ruiz. I'm going to enjoy watching Ruiz get stomped into a fine paste.

Amsler: A distressing sentence to come out of your pie hole.

Everett: Please, Sandra, I have far too much respect for myself to poison my body with such a thing.

Amsler: Duly noted. I'll be sure to stick to things you haven't actively refuted going in that hole yet, like dicks.

Everett: I--

Amsler: The point is that Carlos Ruiz is well-beloved for a reason, and the fine people of Mexicali should be allowed to enjoy a display of athleticism in peace.

Head official Niklaus Forbes brings Ruiz and Garcia together in the middle of the ring. Garcia hands him the Indy Championship, which he proceeds to hold high over his head. He passes the title off to a stagehand, then makes sure the pair understand the rules and what's at stake. This done, he signals for the bell.

DING DING DING

Everett: Do you remember two weeks ago when you said you wished I'd never have a thought again? Because I just thought about it again, and how distressing a sentence that was to--

Amsler: If you want to be conscious for the points graphics at the end of this, you will press your lips together like you're trying not to get jizz in your mouth. Preferably until the bell rings again, but barring that, until one of the GMs says you have to say something.

Right after the bell rings, Ruiz walks up to Garcia with a big smile and puts a hand out to shake. The crowd cheers loudly, and while Garcia looks at it with a bit of grizzled wariness, he eventually takes the hand and shakes it. Ruiz's smile widens as he backs up and the pair of them start circling each other around the ring. As they go, the fact that they are basically identical in size becomes evident a second or two before they come together in a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Because they are so similarly built, the lock-up is a proper back-and-forth contest. Ruiz is the first one to send Garcia back a few steps, but Garcia plants himself and stops the progress, then gets a few steps back on Ruiz. He doesn't make it quite back to center before Ruiz stops him. He pushes forward, but just before Garcia gets to the corner, Garcia pivots and gets Ruiz into the corner and shoves him into the buckles. Forbes tells Garcia he has to let go, and Garcia lets go before Forbes has to start counting. Ruiz is still smiling as Garcia backs off, and he gives a firm nod to Garcia. He shakes his arms out and stretches his neck, and he starts circling the ring again. Ruiz calls for another lock up, and Garcia looks like he's going to take it. As soon as their arms come down, Garcia immediately transitions to a headlock, wrenching on it for several seconds. Garcia backs into the ropes for an extra push as he shoves Garcia off into the opposite ropes. He drops to the mat and Garcia hops over him. As he comes back, Ruiz hops up to go for a hurricanrana, but Garcia slides under, forcing Ruiz to reset himself, resulting in basically a weird bunny hop. As he lands, Garcia has popped back up to his feet. Ruiz spins around, but Garcia grabs him with a T-Bone Suplex!

Everett: A nice sporting back-and-forth but Garcia shows his veteran instincts in that lock-up, and then in avoiding a hurricanrana from the Spaniard.

Amsler: The gap in experience is substantial, but what he lacks in hours worked he makes up for with passion. And that counts for a lot.

Everett: You speak from experience I assume?

Amsler: At least one of us does.

Ruiz is quick to roll through the suplex's impact to get to the ropes to pull himself back up. Ruiz has to massage his neck a little more, but he's still raring to go, and Garcia is ready to knock him down. Ruiz comes forward again and Garcia tries to put him into another headlock, but as soon as he's in the headlock, Ruiz starts to reverse the headlock, twisting it back around and starting to head over Garcia's head for an overhead wristlock, but Garcia breaks it with a front kick to the stomach. As soon as the wristlock is broken, Garcia grabs for the arm that was wrenching on his. He ducks under it, keeping control of it and getting behind Ruiz. He goes for a full nelson, but before he can get the second arm through, Ruiz is able to shift his weight to snapmare Garcia over his head. Garcia rolls through the snapmare and is right back to his feet, but Ruiz pops off a dropkick right to his jaw! The crowd pops as Ruiz is back up to his feet, and he raises his arms in triumph. He even turns to look at the crowd where Iggy is sitting, and he is about to point to her before Garcia, who got back up quickly after the dropkick, grabs him in the full nelson he tried for earlier. He wastes no time in pulling Ruiz over his head in a full nelson suplex! He bridges the dragon suplex and we get our first pinfall of the match.

1...

2...

Ruiz kicks out! He massages his neck while Garcia gets back to his feet.

Everett: I hope you enjoyed that taste of your own medicine, you stupid--

Amsler: You know you're being recorded, right? Carlos is a nice guy, but he's only human. You wouldn't want to be the next to feel his wrath.

Everett: I'm glad you are finally starting to see things my way, Sandra.

There is a sound of audible pencil scratching on a notepad as the referee checks on Ruiz briefly.

Amsler: ...writing down "No concept of sarcasm."

As Everett splutters about obviously understanding sarcasm and digs himself deeper, Garcia is stalking Ruiz as he is getting up, turned away from the champion and looking wobbly on his feet. As he staggers back and around, Garcia charges, leaping up and aiming for his Busaiku Knee, but Ruiz dodges out of the way at the last moment. It's unclear whether it was intentional or just a lurching stumble, but Garcia adjusts as quickly as he can. He lands in a seated position and is quick to scramble up, but Ruiz has recovered by now and kicks Garcia in the stomach to bend him over. Ruiz puts Garcia into suplex position, draping the arm over his shoulders, but Garcia fires back with quick jabs with his free arm, loosening Ruiz's grip. Garcia leaps, trying to go for his leaping cutter, but instead of a Wasted Sacrifice, Ruiz shoves Garcia as hard as he can. Garcia staggers into the ropes and bounces back, hitting the hurricanrana he went for earlier. He pops up and gesticulates wildly, the crowd cheering all the while, but he doesn't turn his back this time, instead keeping on the recovering Garcia with a series of stiff right hands to keep him reeling. Garcia shoves him roughly to create separation, and Ruiz responds by launching a roundhouse kick that Garcia ducks. Ruiz responds to this by continuing his momentum, spinning around, and catching Garcia on the second pass with another roundhouse kick! The crowd cheers again as Ruiz scrambles into a cover.

1...

2...

Garcia gets a shoulder up at two-and-a-half! This takes a bit of wind out of the sails of the crowd and of Ruiz, but he stays positive, and on the offensive, grabbing Garcia's still raised arm and positioning himself so that's the raised arm in an abdominal stretch!

Everett: Garcia with some bad luck there, missing his Busaiku Hurricanrana, opening himself up to the savage.

Amsler: You just don't quit, do you.

Everett: And then he just decks him in the face!

Amsler: They were open fist, Micah, which are one hundred percent legal, and "decking" implies he fell down when punched, you limp-dicked dipshit.

Garcia is shaking his head vigorously, refusing to submit to the basic, but effective submission hold. After a few seconds, Garcia brings his free arm across his body to try to strike Ruiz in the chest. He can't get any sting behind them, and Ruiz responds by slapping the exposed part of his abdomen. Garcia winces, but still doesn't submit. Instead, he twists his body around until he can get his leg free of Ruiz's stance, and as soon as he starts getting his feet under him, he ducks and slips behind Ruiz. He goes for another dragon suplex, but Ruiz fights it off, throwing his arms down with enough force to break the hold. He spins around and tries to take advantage of Garcia being slightly stooped over, putting him in position for his double underhook powerbomb, but as soon as Garcia realizes where he is, he starts struggling, breaking the butterfly hold in much the same manner before leaping up and catching Ruiz with Wasted Sacrifice out of nowhere! Garcia is quick to hook the leg.

1...

2...

No! The crowd roars as Ruiz gets his shoulder up just before the third count! The cameras briefly show a nervous looking Iggy Swango before cutting back to a frustrated Garcia, who was sure that was it.

Everett: Garcia is able to slip out of Carlos's sinister torture there, with more veteran instincts on display.

Amsler: An abdominal stretch is sinister?

Everett: Debatable. But either way, he did it on his left side, so I am technically correct regardless.

Amsler: And if you aren't, you still get your torture quota in just by sitting next to me and talking, so congratulations.

Garcia's brow is furrowed as he stands up, standing over a slowly recovering Ruiz. He slaps himself a bit in the face to fire himself up before hunkering down, stalking Ruiz as he starts to get up. Ruiz is unsteady on his feet as he spins around to face Garcia, who immediately boots him in the stomach. He gets Ruiz into position for a vertical suplex, which causes a low rumble in the crowd, the murmuring starting to rise as he lifts. They cheer as Ruiz seems to have pushed off as well, flipping over Garcia's head and landing roughly on his feet. He staggers forward as Garcia realizes he's lost his grip and whirls around, and the instant he tries to close in, Ruiz blasts him with a superkick! The crowd erupts as Ruiz's Spanish Eyes go wide, then he quickly falls into a cover.

1...

2...

3! The crowd cheers even more loudly, almost drowning out the closing bell.

DING DING DING

Reid: Here is your winner and the NEW Indy Champion...CARLOS RUIZ!

Ruiz seems ecstatic as Forbes moves toward the timekeeper to take the Indy Championship belt. As he does, Iggy Swango has made her way to the barricade, effortlessly hopping over it before rushing into the ring. As soon as Carlos notices she's there, he rushes over and immediately wraps his arms around her in an excited hug that she quickly reciprocates. The smile on her face is almost as bright as Carlos's. Almost.

Everett: Disgusting. Why are these people cheering? Why is Iggy Swango lowering herself to embracing such a monster?

Amsler: The same reason you have to post to an anonymous incel tumblr. Since you failed at sarcasm, I'll spell it out. Because nothing you've just said is remotely true. Carlos Ruiz is a genuinely nice guy who is just excited to be in the ring every week, and his unrivaled passion for this business just paid off. So you should just let him have this.

Iggy and Carlos disentangle themselves as Forbes walks over with the Indy Championship. Ruiz is starting to tear up as he takes hold of the title belt. Iggy looks on as he slowly and reverently hooks it around his waist, then takes one arm when the official grabs the other, and both raise one of Carlos's arms in triumph.

Everett: Not to detract from this, ah, landmark moment--

Amsler: You know what? I've fucking had it with your sarcasm and your disrespect. Your speaking privileges are revoked for the rest of the episode. Just gotta grab this cord and... YOINK!

Everett: What?! You can't--

Amsler: Can, will, DID. Now while my esteemed colleague bemoans the fact that he knows precisely dick and all about how to actually work the audio set-up we use for commentary, here's the updated totals for both Group A and Group B.

Amsler: Tonight's action saw both groups getting blown wide open, with the hopes of making it to the finals being revived in some cases... and made less certain in others. It's still anybody's ballgame, folks, and you don't need to be a pompous know-it-all blowhard to explain that. Anyway, thank you again for joining us tonight. On behalf of everyone here at PRIME, I wish you all a good night. Take care!

© THE EXTREME WRESTLING CORPORATION 2019






















END SCREEN









RESULTS SUMMARY/CREDITS

BRUTUS VERSUS KRISTIAN BANE VERSUS FREDDIE STYLES
WINNER: BRUTUS PINS KRISTIAN BANE
WRITER: OWENSBY SMITH

FRANKIE ROMONO VERSUS XAVIER REID
G1 MATCH
WINNER: XAVIER REID
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME

JONTY KELLY VERSUS KILLJOY ITO
G1 MATCH
WINNER: KILLJOY ITO
WRITER: OPTIMUS PRIME

CARRIE SAMSON AND TERRA WALKER VERSUS GABRIELLE VISCONTY AND HOPE DIAMOND
WINNERS: CARRIE SAMSON AND TERRA WALKER - TERRA PINS GABRIELLE VISCONTY
WRITER: MEGATRON

NEVAEH VS. EL PABLO
G1 MATCH
WINNER: NEVAEH
WRITER: FNR

STITCHES VERSUS JORDAN SHARPE
G1 MATCH
WINNER: JORDAN SHARPE
WRITER: JBC

CANDY VERSUS DOMINIC SANDERS
WINNER: DOMINIC SANDERS
WRITER: JBC

CARLOS RUIZ VERSUS RICHARD GARCIA
G1 MATCH/INDY TITLE MATCH
WINNER: CARLOS RUIZ - NEW CHAMPION
WRITER: MEGATRON

SHOW MVP: DOMINIC SANDERS

SEGMENTS SUBMITTED BY:

XAVIER REID
EL PABLO
HOPE DIAMOND
NEVAEH
DOMINIC SANDERS/CARLOS RUIZ
CANDY