The tag match and the wild scene and sound of it reverberated throughout the IRW arena as if aftershocks from an earthquake struck. Even though the camera's cut to commercial, and the arena was pitched dark; still, when the lights came back up, the crowd was still roaring—through the concrete walls.
Standing backstage, hands planted happily on his hips and chest heaving up and down, was Lance Dawson. He wore a blank expression. Somewhere between disbelief and a child-like feeling of awe. Like he was seeing magic.
"What in the world… what have I just saw and heard?" he said quietly to himself.
Dawson had spent decades in the wrestling industry. He had witnessed riots, fights, sold-out shows, and countless controversies, but the IRW crowd's chaotic, animalistic roar had never before occurred. Not in ACW. Not in any regional wrestling promotion ever, nor even during the strongest years of IRW, during which Dawson was a young man just finding the spark within him to become successful.
He took a moment to compose himself, adjusting his jacket and clearing his throat. At this point in his life, he could no longer jump up and down like Mark, or scream along with the crowd. He was a professional and had a reputation as a veteran, as a leader.
But inside he wanted to jump around and fist-pump like a kid.
Mark Rivera, on the other hand, had no reservations about expressing his joy. After the Apex Predators jumped over the barricade and dove into the audience, he found the nearest technician and grabbed him by the shoulders shaking him violently.
"Did you see that!? Holy — did you see that?!"
The technician appeared to be sick to his stomach. Vince had to physically restrain Mark from throwing up on the mixing board.
Vince stood behind the monitors with his arms folded, jaw clenched, a wicked grin creeping across his face. He had witnessed crowd eruptions before — back in the day when he was part of the Attitude Movement, during the golden years of Ruthless Aggression, and at the early WrestleMania events when magic was in the air.
But what he was witnessing now, taking place in a world that had never experienced real gimmick matches before he got there….
This experience brought him a sense of pride, one that was both a flexible and warm feeling. He saw his concept as being a success; he was starting to see his image come together.
"Well done," he said quietly. "Well done."
Shortly after, somewhere in the back of the arena, the Apex Predators finally came back through the curtain, still half-true, half-tired. They had lost their glasses, the jackets were beginning to be ripped, and their red gear was dirty and scuffed.
Vince smacked Axel and Jett on the backside with his hand and said, "You both did a fantastic job out there. You really were great."
Axel, still struggling to breathe, exclaimed, "Fantastic?! Why didn't anybody tell us that Flashpoint Brothers would be out there?!" He turned on Mark, pointing an accusing finger.
Mark stopped for a moment and looked at Vince, sheepishly.
Vince stepped in to explain, "Because sincere reactions are far superior to planned ones."
Axel's response was, "So, this was done on purpose?"
"Of course," was Vince's smiling reply. "You were meant to be shocked, as you were. And look at the crowd-crazed!"
"I thought Gunnar was going to flatten me," said Jett, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "That is why I leap into the crowd. It was purely survival."
"And that," said Vince, "is exactly the reason why they loved it."
Axel tugged on his new red jacket. "Man… I weirdly like this new style. Acting all high and mighty, the sunglasses, the jacket… it feels cool."
"It is cool," Vince said proudly. "It cost me a small fortune, so I'm glad you appreciate it."
Lance came forward, still overwhelmed, and ushered the tag champions out. "Go shower, go cool off. We've got one more segment tonight."
The Predators left, still buzzing with energy.
------
While in the Ring, they Both Catch their breaths from the Beatdown they just took.
Noah: "Oh , man! This is something else! I don't know where to begin! Just look at what we have before us, the utter mayhem that just arose before our very eyes!"
Irvin: "What a spectacular experience! That type of madness can only happen here (in the IRW)!"
While continuing with their discussions, an IRW official appears behind Noah and hands him a folded-up slip of paper. Noah looks over and sees it, as his eyes widen once again.
Noah: "Oh, my God! Everyone, we have breaking news straight from backstage!"
In an instantaneous motion, the massive crowd is totally silent. Every single person in the crowd is reveled with a baited breath, inclining forward in anticipation. Likewise, Luke and Tony are now fully erect in their seats.
Noah: Next week… November 23rd… the Apex Predators will defend their IRW Tag Team Championships against the Steel Titans!"
The roof nearly blew off.
Almost instantly the voice of the crowd can be heard sending chants of "Steel Titans" in support of Gunnar and calls for the "Apex Predators" to win as well, so much so that the fans in attendance had actual minor arguments breaking out in front of them.
While Tony stood up and yelled, "YES FINALLY!!! TITANS TAKE THE BELTS FROM THE APEX PREDATORS!!!"
Luke crossed his arms. "No way. Predators winning AND escaping through the crowd? That was badass. They're keeping the belts."
Tony scoffed, "You're only saying that because your sister's in a feud. Support real athletes."
Luke elbowed him. "Shut up."
Suddenly, Eddie Prince's theme blared through the speakers.
Immediately, the booing erupted.
Eddie walked in with the IRW Men's Championship on his shoulder and did not show any signs of being happy. He was tense with a clenched jaw, kept his stiff standing position throughout the entire entrance, and his eyes were cold.
Luke leaned in, saying, "It's going to be a wild ride tonight. Eddie has probably been waiting for this since last week."
Tony flipped his tongue against the roof of his mouth and said, "He is still really upset about what Hogan did."
Eddie entered the ring, grabbed a microphone, and waited for the venue to quiet down.
"I DIDN'T like how IRW treated its MEN'S champion," he growled. "Hogan Hornet! Last week—when you lifted MY title—MY TITLE—and mocked me?! You will PAY for it!"
There were cheers and there were boos, but there was energy in the building!
Noah: "Eddie has not lost sight of how he felt last week when Hogan humiliated him."
Irvin: "EDID NOT HOPE FOR HUMILIATION! HOGAN DISRESPECTED THE CHAMPION!"
Eddie began stalking slowly to and fro while choking the life out of his belt.
"YOU THINK THE IRW BELONGS TO YOU, HOGAN?! YOU THINK YOU'RE THE FACE OF THIS PLACE?! THIS BELONGS TO ME! I EARNED THIS! AND NO WASHED UP CELEBRITY CAN DISRESPECT MY CAREER! ....AND..."
Just then, Hogan's entrance music started to play.
Eddie's body stiffened up and anger took over his face.
The response from the crowds as Hogan walked down the ramp with his great old-school strut, slapping the hands of the mob, grinning the entire way, flowing and bouncing to the beat of his music, was overwhelming.
He had the mic with him, however, did not say a word until he entered the ring.
Once there, Hogan looked Eddie from head to toe, smiled and said, "So, Eddie, I see you still haven't got over me touching the championship and I didn't know that the champ was so sensitive."
The crowd was overwhelmingly, "Oooooo!"
Eddie became furious and yelled, "SHUT UP! YOU DISRESPECTED THE CHAMPION!"
Hogan said without any concern, "And you wrestle like a bag of wet bread."
The fans again responded with a strong, "Oooooo!"
Eddie was completely embarrassed, "YOU ...YOU-!"
Hogan raised his hand. "Calm down, champ; don't strain yourself. Anger makes you look old."
Eddie threw down the microphone and rushed at Hogan.
Immediately they began fighting.
Hogan blocked the first punch, delivered one of his own, and soon the two were trading blows like wild animals. Officials rushed out again—twice in one night—and tried to pry them apart.
Hogan shoved them off.
Hogan pushed the first two officials who got in his way off of him.
Eddie pushed through two officials so that he could get in a punch.
The crowd was going crazy. Half of them wanted to see Eddie knocked out; and the other half wanted to see Hogan put Eddie in his place.
Just then Lance Dawson appeared from behind the curtain holding a microphone.
He looked furious—a parent-of-teenagers furious.
"Enough!" he shouted.
Eddie and Hogan froze under the grip of five exhausted referees.
Lance stormed down the ramp and climbed up the steps to the ring.
"I'm done with both of you. You think IRW is against you? Fine. Prove us wrong." he stated directly to Eddie.
Then pointed at Hogan.
"And YOU—if you want to shut the champ up… do it in the ring."
The crowd broke into cheers.
"Next week… Eddie Prince vs. Hogan Hornet. One-on-one. Non-title. Settle your score properly."
The arena exploded.
Both Eddie and Hogan grinned—two wolves ready for violence.
But Eddie, impulsive as always, shoved past the officials and jumped Hogan again. Hogan roared and charged back at him. Officials flew like bowling pins as the two clashed again.
Everyone was trying to break them apart. They barely managed to pull them to opposite corners as Lance shouted:
"THAT'S ENOUGH! SAVE IT FOR NEXT WEEK!"
The show cut to black on the image of Eddie snarling over officials' shoulders and Hogan pointing at him with a knowing smile.