January 1st, 2018
Allentown, PA - Kingdom Coliseum

8:00 PM
It's Time!

Pyrotechnics exploded around the Kingdom Coliseum. Banners displaying LLB and Malik Roland were hung around the rafters, emphasising the anticipation for the night's main event. Michael Decker and Alan McTaggart were seating in their familiar ringside position as the cameras slowly panned the crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the night has finally come," Decker began, "and we have some fantastic action lined up this evening including not ONE but TWO IGS Championships on the line -- Malik Roland facing off with the ever popular LLB as well as Zero Chill challenging for the IGS Tag Team Championships."

"Zero Chill?! Who in the..."

"Keep up, Alan. Zero Chill, the team of Bender and Scruggs!"

"Uh huh.... Shouldn't be too much of a challenge for the Lynch's I mean they are the greatest aren't they?!"

"Not sure I'd go as far as that, Alan... But I guess we'll see how that one pans out." Decker put a finger to his ear piece. "Seems it's time to get things started here at the Kingdom Coliseum with out first match up, Gamble and Derek Ocean. Let's go to Peter Greenberg."

8:12 PM
Erick Gamble vs Derek Ocean


The voice of Alice Cooper exploded through the Kingdom Coliseum and the fans roared with boos. The lights dimmed down and Peter Greenberg began his usual pleasantries.

"The following contest... is scheduled.. for one fall.."


"Introducing first.. weighing in at two hundred and five pounds...."

The lights swirled at the entrance stage as Peter Greenberg waiting for Erick Gamble to appear... but no one came. The music stopped. The track hit again..


The crowd didn't boo this time, they looked confused and murmured amongst themselves. Still no Gamble. Peter Greenberg had a helpless look on his face. He walked to the side of the ring and spoke with an official.

"Ladies and Gentlemen we seem to be having a few technically difficulties in the production area." Decker said trying to fill the dead air as [insert music here] faded away once more, the stage still empty.

"Technical difficulties? That what they call not showing up now a-d-ACK!" McTaggart stopped short as Decker elbowed his side. "Yeah, uhm... technical difficulties in the truck. Uh.."

"Well, while they sort the production situation out in the back... How are you feeling about tonight's main event, Alan?"

"Uh.. the main event.." McTaggart shook his head for a moment. "Right! Here's what I've got, Michael. Malik Roland, the Mammoth himself, he's my pick in the main event tonight. He'll be giving lessons in pomp and circumstance that no good, disrespectful LLB. That's for sure!"

"Well, I'm not so sure about that one, Alan. LLB may be a veteran, but he's still got the fire and the drive to win the gold. Speaking of.." Decker put a finger to his earpiece. "I've just received word that Kellen Wolff is in the interview area. Let's go to the back..."

8:24 PM
The Kraken Hunts, The Prey Dies

The transition was slow to come, but as the scene in the backstage area came into view, a massive body filled the frame. A snarl on a bearded face, known all too well to the fans of IGS. It was the face of The Kraken -- The Beast From Overseas. Amelia Mozzie was absent. The Kraken snatched the camera away from its operator. He held it aloft and spoke in his usual accented, gruff voice.

"Ackerman hides..The Kraken hunts.. The prey.. it dies.."

Kellen spit on the camera lens and hurled it to the floor. Static appeared as the feed abruptly ended and soon after the cameras returned to a perplexed Michael Decker and Alan McTaggart.

"Uh.." McTaggart blurted out.

"Well.. a brief and unorthodox message from the big Norwegian. He is apparently still searching for John Ackerman who has, as of yet, still not addressed the issue of a World Championship opportunity with The Kraken."

"He's a very large, very angry man, Michael..."

"Ha Ha.. indeed he is." Decker had his professional smile on now. "Well, Alan. Next up we have another tag team match scheduled, and knowing you as I do.. I already know who you've got picked for this one."

"You know it, Michael! The greatest champions in the history of tag team wrestling.. The one and only.. Lynch Consortium."

"Well just a few weeks ago, we saw Grayson and Jameson Lynch force the disqualification against Buddy Showtime's All-Stars -- Kendrick Matters and The Night."

"Hey, now... Watch it, Michael.."

"I will do no such thing, Alan. Blatant disregard for the rules were shown, and it's been reflected in the record books as a loss for the Consortium."

"A loss is a loss. A win's a win. And the gold around their waists still makes them the champs. That's what counts in my book, Michael. Gotta do what you gotta do."

As the words left McTaggart's mouth, It's All About The Benjamin's began to echo through the coliseum.

"Well, we're about to find out it seems, let's head to Peter Greenberg."

8:26 PM
The Lynch Consortium vs Zero Chill

"Introducing first...."

Peter Greenberg started his introduction is a hopeful look in his eye.

"At a combined weight of four hundred fifty seven pounds.."

He eyed the stage.. The boos of the crowd were deafening as The Lynch Consortium stepped through the curtain, phones out and gold around their waists. Peter Greenberg let a sigh of relief into the microphone before he continued.

"They are the greatest tag team champions in the HISTORY of Professional Wrestling Revolution. Hailing from Dallas, Texas. They are the fastest rising stars in IGS History… the highest drawing attraction in sports entertainment… the most recognizable athletes in all the world.. the living examples of legendary accomplishment.. The Whole Enchilada.. The Grand Poobahs of In Ring Aptitude… THEY ARE….”

The Lynch's pocketed their phones for a brief moment while they entered the ring.

"The Lynch.. Consooortium!"

Both Lynch's took to the turnbuckles, phones in the air, titles lifted. They took selfies. Some in the crowd thought it was great, the older generation were annoyed. As the Lynches hopped from the turnbuckles and began talking in the corner, Peter Greenberg began his second introduction.

"And Their Opponents..."

"No Chill" by Vic Mensa ft Skrillex began to sound through the PA.

"Weighing in at three hundred seventy seven pounds... Bender.. Skruggs...."

The crowd reaction was mixed.. as the stage remained empty.

"Zero Chill!"

Yet again, the stage remained empty. The referee and Peter Greenberg looked confused.

"COUNT EM REF!" Grayson yelled impatiently.

"Grayson, you can't just count them out if they haven't entered the ring," referee Vern Halloway said looking annoyed younger Lynch brother.


Grayson looked out at the fans and held a fist and a finger in the air.


To some surprise, the crowd counted along. Mostly due to boredom, some due their strange fascination with the Lynch boys.


The crowd continued to count along.. Jameson shrugged and joined in.


"What's going on here, Michael?" McTaggart asked in a confused voice.


"Uh... err... Well.. Zero Chill has failed to appear... and it seems that The Lynch Consortium have initiated a count out? Uh.. Not sure how official that can be, Alan."


"Well, if Zero Chill isn't coming out.. I'd say that makes them the winner by default, Michael.."


The IGS Head Official stood silently in the corner. He shook his head in disgust.


The crowd counted along, louder with each count. They believed this to be part of the show...


They knew any second, Bender and Scruggs would burst out from under the ring and attack the champions from behind...


But they didn't....


The 10th count didn't echo through the crowd like the previous nine. A few lackluster voices spoke the number as they mass of IGS fans stood even more confused and downtrodden. They had no idea what to make of the situation. Grayson jumped up and down in the ring. He lifted his championship belt high into the air.

"Play the music..." Jameson could be heard saying to the ring side official, who was tugging on his ear to signal the production truck to hit the music. "Come on... get us out of here..." Jameson reiterated. As the words left his mouth, "It's All About the Benjamins" kicked in once more.

Jameson led his brother, who was lost in celebration over his "win" through the ropes and back up the ramp.

"Well, that was something different... I'm not too sure what to say." Decker began.

"I'll say it, Michael.. Zero Chill was too scared to come out here and face the champs!"

"Glad to have you back, Alan.."

The scene faded to a commercial break.

8:36 PM
Paul, I Can't Do This Anymore

The jingle from the commercial was cheery as it faded back into the IGS feed.. but the scene in the back garage of the Kingdom Coliseum, all was anything but.. Standing in front of Phaser was a woman, along with two young girls. The girls couldn't be more than 5-7 years old and with looks of conflicted pain.

"Paul," said the woman standing in front of Phaser. "You are going to explain to me just what the hell we are still doing here."

Phaser's eyes narrowed toward the woman.

"Kelly," said Phaser. "Are you really dragging our kids into here and doing THIS?"

"What am I supposed to do!?" yelled Kelly with an arm around each girl in front her. "You won't talk to me, won't help with the girls, and you certainly aren't doing much else. How long has it been since you've even worked?"

"I told you Kelly, IGS has been spotty but we don't need the money," replied Phaser as cool as he could.

"It's not about the money!" yelled Kelly. "Ever since you screwed over all of your business partners in Denver we've been set for life, yes. But I still need you to be happy. US to be happy."

Phaser grimaced that she would bring up anything about his business dealings here in the open. A couple of arena employees tried to pretend they weren't hearing any of this.

"Paul, I can't do this anymore," exasperated Phaser's wife while the younger of the two girls began to cry. "I'm taking the girls back to Colorado to stay with my parents."

That was it.

She had put everything on the line.

Their marriage and their family.

This was the part where Phaser was supposed to come to his senses. Fight to keep together his family. Beg for another chance.

Instead Phaser said nothing.

He simply kneeled down in front of his daughters and made something of a straight smile. Both of the girls had tears streaming now.

"Girls..." said Phaser softly. "You know I love you."

When he spread his arms for a hug neither girl came toward him to reciprocate. The father-daughter bonds were broken.


Kelly's pain was evident as well.

"You piece of shit," stated Kelly. "You really are going to let me walk out of here with the girls so you can, what, become a champion?"

Phaser stood and stared at Kelly but said nothing.

"Paul, I know there is still SOME semblance of the man I fell in love with inside you. I just don't know where he went."

Kelly turned and guided the girls to follow her back to the car in the parking lot. When they were out of sight, Phaser slipped his aviator sunglasses back on and walked off.

Regardless of the condition of this promotion, Phaser would become a champion.

8:41 PM
LLB vs Malik Roland

The scene cut from backstage to the ring in anticipation of the nights main event -- The IGS World Championship. One final match between the champion, Malik Roland, and the challenger, LLB.

"An interesting exchange in the back, Alan..." Decker began as the cameras centered on the broadcast booth. It was too early for the main event, but they had nothing left to send out for the crowd. So he tried to fill some time.

"Sure! Throw it to me! Listen, I know what everyone is thinking, but my friend Phaser has his reasons for doing what he's doing..."

"...Mhmm... I see.. Well, one can only guess at the motivation of others. And speaking of motivation, LLB has the purest motivation of all in the upcoming MAIN EVENT!" Michael Decker had his showman's smile on and pretended not to be thinking about the nights events up to this point. "We have LLB finally getting an opportunity against Malik Roland in a confirmed IGS World Title Match!"

In a night full of no-shows and other disappointments, the fans knew they would still get their money's worth. The two wrestlers were just shown on split screen footage about 15 minutes ago, displaying LLB in his locker room and 'The Mammoth' in his, preparing for the big title fight.

Ring announcer Peter Greenberg began.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the IGS World Heavyweight Championship!"

Big pop.

"Testify" by Rage Against the Machine.

Even bigger pop.

LLB walked out, the crowd on its feet. He wore a black and silver "OBJECTION!" t-shirt and his trademark white "Judge This!" tights. He paced down the rampway with a purpose and while he hit some hands on the way down, one thing was for sure, he was definitely focused.

"The challenger is in the building and this crowd has ignited! Determination in the face and the walk of the challenger." Decker said with excitement.

"You're still sounding pretty energetic..." McTaggart added. "I, however, don't care."

"The Law" slid into the ring and then performed his trademark "guilty" slash. He went to the top rope at the bottom left of the hard-camera side and raised his left hand in the air and slammed it down like a judge with a mallet. He did it again. Again. Whipping the jury into a frenzy as they followed along with their "guil-ty, guil-ty" chant.

"Sigh." McTaggart said. He actually said "sigh".

LLB went to the center of the ring, looked at the ring announcer, the referee and then the time keeper.

"Weighing in at 210 pounds, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada... he is 'The Law'... he is the legend... he is L L B!"

The fans went wild. They chanted his name and filled the arena until his theme song closed.

It was replaced by "That's Gangsta" by Shyne.

"And his opponent..."

The music blared over the PA, the crowd changing their cheers to boos as they awaited to see the "champion", the one who was handed the title, come out so they could let them know exactly how everyone in attendance really felt.

But for a night filled with strange occurences and no-shows, the longer the music played and the longer no one came out, the crowd got a little quieter and more concerned.

Still no one.

The scene cut to LLB, who did not look too happy.

"The Champ is taking his time, I see." McTaggart stated.

"Well, I certainly hope that's the case.. I can't take much more of the other option.." Decker replied.

Still no one.

The announcers continued to vamp, playing it up as if Malik was trying to play games with LLB.

Still no one.

The fans started to boo again.

"Uhmm... Michael? Is the champ no showing, too." McTaggart remarked.

Still no one.

Michael Decker depressed a button on the side of his headset. His microphone feed was cut, but his mouth still moved. A mix of anger, confusion, depression, and embarrassment swirled on his face.

No one.


No one.

After minutes of dead air and confusion in the IGS ring.. finally.. someone emerged from behind the curtain. There was a very quick hush among the crowd but it took almost no time to realize the man who was stepping out was definitely not Malik Roland. Instead, he was no taller than 5'8". No bigger than 170 pounds. No paler than any man they had seen before.

He was not a wrestler, that was for sure.

The man hustled down the rampway. The scene cut to LLB who stood very still in the middle of the ring, a determined look still across his face.

The man rolled awkwardly into the ring and went up to the announcer, referee and talent all at once.

"He's not here." The man could be seen muttering, although those in attendance didn't know what was going on yet.

"What the fuck?" LLB snapped.

"He, uh... err, he, ehhhh... he just left. Walked out about five minutes ago." The man said.

"What's going on? What are they saying, Michael?" McTaggart inquired into his headset.

The crowd, now starting to get a sense Malik Roland has joined the list of no-showers, started to shower the ring with boos. But these weren't typical "heel heat" boos, they were severely angry and passionate "fuck this"-type of boos.

LLB jolted back, disgusted. "What a joke."

He paced around the ring, hands on his hips, staring a hole right into the man's head.

"Why the fuck did they send you, Eric? What the hell?" LLB was talking loud enough now to be picked up by the cameras and by the fans in the first few rows.

"That's Eric Weiss." Decker mentioned to the viewers, trying to make sense of what was going on as well. "He's a talent relations agent for the IGS front office..."

"Why couldn't King come out here?" LLB demanded, his voice even louder. By now the referee Vern Holloway and ring announcer Peter Greenberg had left to go backstage. "The fucking owner or CEO can't come out here and tell me this?"

Eric lowered his head. "He's not in the building... Neither is John.. Sorry.."

LLB marched around the ring, building off the crowd's hate. It wasn't directed towards him. In fact, the crowd and LLB were clearly on the same side... feeling the exact same way.

Eric mouthed something along the lines of "hit me" to LLB, then saying "send them home happy", although the camera cut away while he was speaking. It was clear this segment was not scripted.

LLB stopped in his tracks and looked at Eric. He looked into the crowd and they roared with approval. Even though they didn't hear what Eric had to say, it was an easy enough direction to pick up.

Then the crowd went back to booing.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

LLB looked at Eric one more time and finally ran at him, demolishing him with a clothesline.

Big pop!

LLB pulled Eric to his feet and threw him into the Hung Jury. He connected with the move and an additional rock bottom before tossing him out of the ring.

The crowd cheered all the wrestling moves and then went back to booing again. LLB rolled out of the ring and grabbed a mic.

"This is bullshit." He shouted. "What a fucking joke! I've been here for six months busting my ass... hell I was signed in January. I was promised this was supposed to be a stable organization... a great place... what a fucking joke! It took eight months to get this place off the ground! Just waited and waited and waited, for what? This!? Malik, I have zero respect for you. You come in here and talk a big game and then simply walk out? Fuck you. You quitter. Things get a little tough here and you quit with ZERO COMMUNICATION? Fuck you. You were supposed to put me over. Zero work ethic. Zero commitment. Glad you never made it to Action Wrestling. fWo should have fired you instantly."

LLB threw the mic to the ground and walked over to the announce table. He pulled out a monitor and smashed it on the ground. Then he pulled out another one and smashed it apart, too.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

LLB clapped his hands along.

"Fucking pathetic! I wasted this entire year... King you couldn't even come out and tell me? You had to send a god damn agent!?"

"The Law" picked up the last monitor and punted it into the ring. Next, he took a chair and destroyed the announced table with it. By now, McTaggart and Decker had gone to the back.

LLB spit into the first ground camera and then took the second one off the camera man, throwing it on the floor and stomping it to death. Therefore, the scene switched to the hard camera and had to stay there for the rest of what took place.

"What a joke. IGS is a joke. THE STATE OF WRESTLING IS A JOKE."

"What a joke! What a joke! What a joke!" The fans in the first few rows started to chant.

LLB rolled back to the center of the ring, stood up and spat on the mat this time. He kicked the ring post. He drew the letters P I W with his left hand and then kicked the ring rope.

"The Law" went back to the floor and walked around with his hands on his hips. "This place was pathetically run. Fucking losers."

The show cut as LLB took a chair and started smashing it against the ring post to the delight of the fans who were still in attendance.






The last thing you could hear was...

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.

Clap, clap, clap, clap, clap.


9:14 PM - The End?