[SEASON TWO PREMIERE] FPW The New Batch promo card

[Pizza Ant]

Freedom Pro Wrestling presents...
THE NEW BATCH
Odeum Expo Center|Chicago, IL

Match One: MDE vs Graham Baker
MDE signed a full time contract with FPW at the end of Season One. His first singles test? Making his debut, it's Graham Baker!

Match Two: Anarchy (Davis Reynolds/Kassius Boone) vs The Hardcases (Mark Anderson/Paul Meyers)
These two teams battled for the first time at the Season One finale in the Torneo Cibernetico match. Now they'll do battle once more in a special tag team showcase!

Match Three: Azrael vs El Timido
We saw the vignette at Shoot 2 Thrill Night One and now the "un-luchador" El Timido will make his debut against luchador extraordinaire Azrael!

Match Four - Zeke Proving Series Match #1: Zeke vs Bobby O
Zeke recently got his first win ever in FPW at the Season One finale. Can he keep that up? Or will he fall to a man also looking to prove himself? The man who beat him once before, Bobby O!

Match Five: Azazel vs Davey Jones
After being the final two in the Season One Torneo Cibernetico match, the undefeated Azazel and the American Lunatic Davey Jones will do battle in singles competition for the very first time!

Match Six - Guest Referee is Jerry Bishop: Matt Dwyer vs TJ Cole
Tensions have been bubbling in The Friendmigos ever since TJ Cole joined the group. Matt Dwyer knew is looking to expose TJ Cole for the bad guy that he is at our Season Two premiere event. In the middle? A man with a broken spirit: Jerry Bishop. Will he call the match fairly? Or will he crumble under the pressures that TJ Cole has put on him?

Match Seven - FPW Hardcore Championship: Edward Dessius(c) vs Nick Jameson
Nick Jameson pissed off pretty much everybody he could when he arrived in FPW. His brutal wrestling style and nature has earned him an FPW Hardcore Championship match on his debut. Can the most extreme individual in FPW, Edward Dessius, hang on to his newly won crown?

Main Event: FPW World Champion Adam Thompson/Clutch McCloud/Jeremiah Johnson vs Marcus Allen Jones/FPW Tag Team Champions The Invaders (Haych/Dario)
Marcus Allen Jones and The Invaders shocked the world when they attacked the FPW World Champion Adam Thompson, Clutch McCloud, & Jeremiah Johnson at our Season One finale. While they're set to open this show to explain themselves, the men they attacked are looking for revenge. It all comes to a head at our Season Two premiere event!

---

Message me if you wish to write a match. The due date is Feb 17.

[Jim Houston]

Dasha Banks stands alongside an MDE who is still glistening with sweat after his match at Goodbye Cleveland.

DB: MDE, let's talk about your match tonight. You had a great showing in your first official FPW match but ultimately failed to be a survivor. Did this match do you justice or is there more of you to see?

MDE (with a quiet snort of derision): Did this match do me justice? Did I win the match? No, I didn't. So it didn't do me justice. I showed a little of what I could do out there but I didn't show my full hand. I didn't come here for a meaningless multi-man match that was thrown together to get some people a pay check for being on the card. I came here for much bigger things than that so I'm not going to show the full range of my arsenal of skills. I showed enough to let people know I'm a man to be feared but not enough to show them how to beat me.

DB: You were pinned with a roll-up. Is that an indication of a lack of focus out there?

MDE: A lack of focus? This is what I do. This is all I do. I am a wrestler. Wrestling defines me. Wrestling is me and I am wrestling. A lack of focus? Never. A well-executed roll-up is as hard to get up from as a high-impact move, sometimes even harder. That was a well-executed roll-up and it got the better of me. Sometimes that happens. It's rare but it happens. It won't happen next time.

DB: You did pick up one elimination, but you needed an assist from the ropes to do so. As someone who prides themselves on technical ability, why did you feel the need to take a short cut?

MDE: It's simple. How long was that match? It was easily forty minutes if not longer. If you get a chance to cut that time down by taking a short cut, you take it. Nobody can keep up their top level for that long, no matter how much time they put in in the gym. It shaved some time off the match and was the right play in the long-term. Would I do it every week? No chance. Would I do it again if I had this match tomorrow? Yes.

DB: Well... moving forward, it seems that your next opponent is Graham Baker. I guess he's a bit of a mystery as he's never wrestled here before?

MDE: A mystery? No one is a mystery to me. Everyone on this roster has tape out there and if they've had a match that's been recorded, I've seen it at least once. Besides, I've seen him wrestle when I've been in the UK. Graham Baker is as familiar to me as anyone and I know exactly how he wrestles. He's a minor challenge, but nothing more. If he was as good as he thought he was, he'd be me and he damn sure isn't me. I've got the skill, the knowledge and the experience to beat him in the ring now and after a few weeks to prepare, his chances of beating me are about as high as the excitement levels when you hear his name. This match is my first singles match here in FPW, and my first true chance to show exactly what I can do. I will show everyone exactly why I am.... simply..... great.

MDE walks away, leaving Dasha to give a slightly off look to the man behind the camera.

[veggieleezy]

*Camera comes up in the locker room, and we see Jerry Bishop sitting on the floor leaning against his locker door. His eyes are closed. Dasha Banks enters and tries to get his attention.*

DB: Um, Jerry? Could we get a word with you. please?

*Jerry slumps his head forward with a heavy sigh*

DB: Jerry?

JB: Yes, I’m sorry, one moment. *Jerry takes a deep breath and lifts his head with a forced slight smile* How can I help you, Dasha?

DB: I’m sorry to bring this up, Jerry, but it’s fairly clear that something has been troubling you the past couple of weeks, and I don’t mean to open an old wound, but now it seems that things aren’t going so well among the Friendmigos. I was wondering if we could get your thoughts on that?

*Bishop closes his eyes and pushes himself to his feet against the locker.*

JB: Dasha, when I first got into this business, I wanted to put on the best matches on the card, every card I had, no matter who I was facing, no matter the odds, I’d put on the best show for all those fans that I possibly could. I found people who shared that philosophy, and together we founded the Friendmigos. We became a symbol of hope and goodness.

*Bishop reaches into his locker and pulls out a spare mask, blue and yellow, resembling the design originally worn by Super Che, Jr.*

JB: But then Che went missing. I lost my best friendmigo. My *first* friendmigo. Don’t get me wrong, I love all of my friends very much, and I do my best to like everyone in the FPW locker room, even MDE or Marcus.

*Marcus and MDE pass by. MDE ignores a wave, Marcus flips Jerry off.*

JB: But Che was there at the beginning. And when I heard that TJ had found him, that... that brought back a feeling I hadn’t felt in a while. I felt like a hero again. Like the Friendmigos could get back to their roots and be heroes again...

*Bishop slumps back against the locker door.*

JB: But then TJ told me what Che had said. That he didn’t *want* to come back. That he was ashamed of what the team had become. I mean sure, we’ve always had a sense of humor about things, and tried to look on the bright side of life- *Bishop tries to whistle the song, but loses it and shakes his head* but to be called a joke... I became the Jester to give the audience someone to laugh with and have a good time. But now...

*Bishop drops back down to the floor.*

JB: Now, I don’t know if anyone is laughing *with* me anymore. What if they’re just laughing *at* me? I mean look at me. The Friendmigos are more or less a “knights of the round table” kind of operation, but these guys look to me. They look up to me. They have expectations. So do the Freedom Fighters. I’ve promised them the best matches I can possibly deliver. And I’ve let them down. I was the first man on our team to be eliminated, and I’m supposedly their leader. What kind of leader is that? What kind of hero is that?

*Bishop lowers his head back down.*

JB: What kind of man is that...

*Bishop goes silent. Dasha is unsure what to do and stands in respectful silence. After a moment, Bishop lifts the mask up to his knees and stares at it. A trace of a tear lines one side of his own domino mask.*

JB: I’ve already lost one of my best friends. And now I’m about to lose two more. Matt and TJ aren’t speaking. Azrael doesn’t know what to do, and he has divine wisdom. Jonesy, bless him, eats everything you hand him. This decision comes down to me alone. I just-

*Jerry looks directly at Dasha.*

JB: I just don’t know if I can do this.

*He drops his head once more and we see his shoulders begin to quaver.*

DB: Jerry, I am so very sorry, is th-

*Bishop raises a gloved hand*

JB: I’ll be okay, I would just like to be alone for now. Thank you.

*Dasha leaves, and the camera remains focused on Bishop, Che’s mask resting on his knees, his chin at his chest. Slowly, we see a hand place a strawberry milkshake just to Jerry’s side, and the hand reaches back out of frame. Jerry looks up to see who left it, but finds no one. Finally, a small smile starts to appear on Bishop’s face as the camera fades out.*

[The_Aviator_GB]

The cameras catch Graham Baker as he enters the FPW arena for the first time, still dressed in his street clothes and holding a duffel bag over his shoulder. He pulls his glasses off as Dasha appears, microphone in hand, giving him a moment to collect himself before starting to speak.

DB: Graham, welcome to FPW. It's great to finally see you here after all the buildup and hype around your signing.

Graham: Thanks, Dasha. Pleasure to be here. It's been a long journey to the top, but, well...here I am, rearing and ready to get moving toward the top.

DB: I'm sure you are, and you've got a chance to prove it at The New Batch when you face MDE. From what you know, what do you think of your opponent?

Graham: MDE? He's a hell of a talent, I worked a few shows with him back in the UK and i've seen his tapes from people. Some of my fans have even called for this match to be booked before, saying it's a 'dream match' of sorts, so i'm glad to see that FPW knows what the people are looking for on a card. As for MDE himself, well...I can speak on him quite a bit. Our skillsets aren't too dissimilar-we're both technical wrestlers, but MDE's got a bit more of a focus on the grit of it all while I like to blend my style with some high-flying...as you may've noticed. 

Graham cracks a grin before continuing.

Graham: The one major area where MDE could use some work is his attitude. To be completely honest, guy's a sour prick. He works close, stiff, and hits hard as a midnight train. He's rough to talk to, as well-doesn't like getting too close to anyone at all. Tons of promoters want to book him, but when they do it's usually a one-and-done. He puts on good matches, but how far can you get with talent when no one wants to bring you back in? I was shocked to see him sign here, but...if you can work with him, then by all means, go ahead. See if you can make something where so many others have failed before. 

DB: MDE spoke about you earlier, he implied that you have virtually no chance of beating him, and called you a 'minor challenge'. Any comment about that, or any comment to MDE himself?

Graham: Well, when I walk out on that stage for the first time in a few nights, I assure you that the crowd's going to go far wilder for myself then for MDE. I connect with my fans, and I give them a reason to come back night after night. With someone like MDE, who doesn't pander, doesn't play ball, just stares straight ahead like a goddamn zombie...they've got no reason to come back and give him a look. As for his comment on my skill...well, i'll speak to him myself. MDE, you may have the talent and the strength, but you're a damn slight slower than I am, and you'll quickly come to learn that in this ring, speed kills. I'm not calling for a squash or saying i'm gonna take you out in five minutes, but i'm gonna outrun you and outlast you, and when you find yourself panting down on the mat...I'm gonna ground you with an armbar and tap you the fuck out. I'll see you in the ring. 

Graham looks back to Dasha. 

Graham: Any further questions?

DB: Before you go-anything you'd like to say to the FPW universe?

Graham: Of course. For those of you who know me, expect more of the same phenomenal wrestling that you all love and crave. The Aviator's not slowing down anytime soon, and this flight's just starting up. For those of you who don't...keep your eyes peeled, and i'll give you a show to enjoy. You'll be chanting and cheering my name soon enough. 

DB: Thank you for your time, Graham. We'll see you soon.

[Deleted]

Davis Reynolds: Where the fuck am I?

Davis looks around. He's in pub, mostly empty, sat across from Kassius Boone. There are numerous empty glasses, all on Davis' side of the table.

Kassius Boone: Fucking hell, again?

DR: What again? What's going on?

KB: Come on, think about it. Goodbye Cleveland, the Torneo Cibernetico match?

DR: I might almost remember what you're talking about.

KB: Your plan was going alright, Azrael kept Azazel occupied while we set up and then you got in the ring. You fought a little bit, Azazel fucked you with the ladder and then fucked you more with the ladder.

DR: You lost me at ladder.

KB: Azazel bicycle kicked you in the side of the head with your head against the ladder and that's why we're having this conversation for the 4th time today.

DR: Alright. Well, we win?

KB: No. Azazel fucked you, then me, then Dwyer, then Jones. There was some other stuff in between. Anyway, we made the card for the season 2 premier.

DR: Wait, for how long has FPW been doing seasons?

KB: Since forever Davis, remind me not to let you get kicked in the head again. We're up against the Hardcases, second match on the card. What's the plan, strategy man?

DR: Well the FPW tag team champions aren't gonna be easy to take down. Presumerably a win will put us in the running for a title shot so we've got to get this right. I say we keep Dario grounded and just hit Haych as hard as possible and keep him out of the ring. Can't let Haych get you either, cause that powerbomb/senton looks like a killer. We keep to that rough guide and we should be able to sneak out a win.

KB: That's the Invaders Davis. They're in the main event.

DR: Well I got nothing. Lets wing it.

KB: You're the boss I guess...

Davis suddenly recoils in shock and start looking around in a panic.

KB: No! No, no, no, no-

DR: Where the fuck am I?

[Deleted]

Outside of the arena, a cameraman is standing in with "The Real Horror" Nick Jameson, who is wearing a black coat and a skull cap, pacing a bit as he smiles. The shaky shot follows "The White Devil" as he looks a bit frantic, and sadistically amused. The dusk is setting outside, as we see Jameson's breath in the light of the camera, pointing at him to only make him seem more unhinged, as if he's under interrogation.

Nick Jameson:
After everything I've done, everyone I've called out, the office thinks they've got a solution for the "Nick Jameson problem".

Jameson laughs out loud now, but he seems more pissed than amused.

Nick Jameson:
They think they can take me out, putting me up against this fucking Ed Dessius whatever, whoever the fuck he is. They think I don't know what's going on here. I know the score, boys, so spare me the pageantry. Spare me the condescending tone when you tell me what a great opportunity I have at "The New Batch". WHOO-WHEE "THE NEW BATCH"!

Am I supposed to be part of that? Am I supposed to be flattered!?

I STAND ABOVE EVERYBODY IN FREEDOM PRO! DON'T LUMP ME IN WITH THESE FUCKIN' CUCKS!

I'm not some part of your little narrative, and I'm not going to be a part of your "plan".

Jameson turns his back to the camera for a moment, hands over his mouth, before wiping them down his face and getting serious.

Nick Jameson:
They think this guy's just going to roll over me. They think he's going to put me out, put me on a slab and solve their little problem. They don't know what to do with me, so they're trying to get rid of me.

But... there's caveat to that little plan, Houston.

Whatever you think is going to happen, just forget it. It doesn't matter. What happens at "The New Batch" is that I'm going to MAUL your champion and show you flaccid fucks what "hardcore" really looks like. It's not going to be a fair, competitive bout. I'm not in that business. I'm here to slaughter.

Edward Dessius, I saw your match with Legal, and I get why they think you're the guy who's going to shut me up. They think you're the toughest guy around, because you put some guy through some burning tables, rolled around on some office supplies and, apparently, you cut your own hair.

I understand that... and it's sound in theory. Unfortunately, it's stupid in practice, as you're about to find out.

I'm going to tear you apart with my bare hands. I'm going to rip out your spine and drag your carcass to Jim Houston's office. I'm going to proceed to shove my fist up your ass and work your mouth like a puppet, doing my best Jeff Dunham impression as "you" inform him of your shortcomings.

Getting sarcastic and whiny, moving his hand like puppet.

Nick Jameson:
"Oh, I'm so sorry boss, I just wasn't man enough, I let you down... I couldn't stop the HORROR!"

Jameson gets a big smile now, looking crazed.

Nick Jameson:
Oh, yes, that's right, Dessius, you're going to do your best... you're going to do your worst... and it's not going to be enough. It's not going to mean anything.

And when the dust clears, and you're laid up in some hospital trying to figure out how many fingers they're holding up, trying to remember what day it is, what year it is, it's going to flash back in your tiny, insignificant brain just what the fuck happened and who did it to you... and then you can think about me taking a piss on your title and a big shit your career, because it is nothing and you are nothing. But you already know that, don't you?

Cutting yourself, trying to kill yourself, having an active deathwish in the process of being fulfilled. Maybe death was just waiting for the right method of delivery, and it's found an avatar in me. I guess we'll find out.

Shed the delusions, though, Edward. You're not going to stop me. Jim Houston, you're not going to stop me. Freedom Pro, there's no one man enough in that locker room to touch me in that ring. And America, just breathe it in and enjoy, because you gotta love me. I'm everything you wish you could be. And I make it look so fucking good.

Nick walks out of the camera's view, smiling as we end the promo.

[Jim Houston]

A young woman knocks at a door and enters shortly after. MDE sits at a desk against the wall of the room, the other walls stacked with DVDs, each labelled with various wrestling show names.

MDE: Have you heard back from Progress?

Young Woman: Um... no, still nothing. I'll let you know as soon as I do.

MDE: What is it then?

YW: You may want to look at the FPW website. Graham Baker had a few things to say about you recently.

MDE turns back to his computer and the woman lingers for a minute but leaves when she doesn't get any further acknowledgment. We hear snippets of Baker's interview with Dasha Banks play before MDE turns around with a cocky smile on his face. He speaks directly into the camera.

MDE: Oh, Graham Baker. You speak as if you truly know me and know about me. Let me be clear, you don't know me and you don't know what I can do. You want to try and make comments about me to get under my skin or to get the fans to go to the show? I don't care. Nobody gets under my skin and there's no point in a nobody like you even trying. You say you and me are similar? That you're a technical wrestler like me? You may be a technical wrestler, but you're nothing like me. If you want a reference point then here's a reference point: I'm a surgeon. I do extensive research to find exactly how I'm going to target you and unpick your weaknesses. I attack with delicate precision and everything I do has the exact impact it should. I pick people apart piece by piece before I'm done, leaving them with weeks to recouperate. You? You're more like an eighteenth century apothecary. You think you know technical wrestling but you're just guessing and going with the things that people buy. You want to listen to what the fans think, want to berate me for not pandering to the fans, want to prove that you're more popular than me? For the second time, I don't care. I'm not here to be popular, I'm not here for the fans, I'm not even here for the money. I'm here because I can be, because I want to be and because I am simply great at what I do.

MDE takes a pause to open a new tab on his browser, logging into Demand Progress and opening up a Graham Baker v Sebastian match.

MDE: You see this? On this show, Graham Baker faced Sebastian, a joke of a pro wrestler. Sebastian took Graham Baker to his limits before being rolled up for an embarrassing loss. Graham Baker beat Sebastian on this show. You know what I did? I had the final match in my best of seven series with Zack Sabre Jr, a man who is ten times the wrestler you'll ever be. I beat him decisively. Graham, we've wrestled on a few shows together over the past few months, and I've outshone you in every single one of those shows. You may have some heart, some fight, some innate ability to make people like you, but stop kidding yourself into thinking that you can survive a match with me. This is your biggest match ever. I know that because I've seen every match you've ever been in. For me, this is a showcase match designed by a promoter to get their fans to see what I can do. You might make something of yourself one day, but I already am something, and you won't be making a name off my back.

MDE turns away, before turning back one more time.

MDE: Oh yes, I almost forgot. You say I've got the strength advantage and the talent advantage? You're right on both counts. But you say I'm slow and don't have the stamina to match you? Please. I've been doing this for longer than you, I've trained harder than you and I've wrestled more matches than you've even seen. You may like to jump around and do backflips, but don't mistake your speed for a lack of speed on my part. The problem for you is that you've got all the speed of a gazelle. You can bound through the ring for as long as you like, but there's a lion hidden close enough to pounce and, when it does, you'll see that there's a difference between your type of speed and mine. You call this a dream match? For you, it may well be. For me, it's just another chance to prove my superiority. By the time all's said and done, I'll be standing with my hand raised and you'll be staring up at me, secure in the knowledge that you've got a lot to learn and that I... am simply great.

MDE turns back to the monitor and restarts the Baker v Sebastian match. After a few seconds he lets off a laugh of derision as the camera fades to black.

[The_Aviator_GB]

When we pick up with Graham Baker, he's cutting a handcam promo from a locker room away from FPW. He runs his hand along the center-crest of a title belt, and looks back to the camera.

The Combat Zone Wrestling Wired Title, held at various points by some of the brightest stars on and off the Independent Scene. Drew Gulak, Lio Rush, Joey Janella, Shane Strickland...and, of course, myself. Those of you who've followed my rise would remember when I won the title, when I held it for half a year and defended it against all comers, in all situations. This title, for a year, defined me, and gave me a name. People chanted for me, more then they ever had before, and when I clashed with the CZW Heavyweight Champion in a champ versus champ bout, they gave me enough praise to put me over the world heavyweight champion.

In recent days, my opponent at FPW's The New Batch has called me out on events from our time in Progress, picking a match from early in my career and using it as a benchmark with which to measure my progression as a wrestler. MDE claims that on the same night, he faced Zack Sabre Junior in a 'decisive match'. I'm well aware of that match, as I looked up to it, and I looked up to MDE. A man who, I'll admit, has more talent than myself, is more of a 'veteran' than myself, but he lacks one thing that I don't-and that's passion and resiliency. The man simply doesn't know how to lengthen his stay at any promotion, and doesn't know how to form a meaningful connection with any opponent, or any partner, or...anyone, really. MDE can claim that I'm the inferior man in this contest, but let me take a moment and speak to my opponent directly.

MDE, you speak of me as a young boy. You're three years my senior, and clearly you still think of me as the young lion from the Progress training school so many years ago. You consider yourself a 'surgeon' of the sport, but if you were such a thing, you'd be one that's read piss-poorly on your opponent. If you're content to come into this match unprepared and overconfident, trust me, I'll make you learn the error of your ways. While you had a best of seven with Sabre, I'd leave Progress and win a two-out-of-three falls with Strickland that would garner chants and praise from anyone with eyes who'd watched it. While you main-evented shows in our homeland, i'd steal the show in a co-main as I brought this championship to new heights. And, most of all, while you searched and struggled to find somewhere, anywhere, that would bring you back after you cold-shouldered them...I found consistent bookings, I found a home, and i've found one again at FPW.

Speak of your pedigree, MDE, and speak of your skills. You've got plenty of talent, and you may have plenty of stamina...but at the end of the day, when people from our hometown watch this match, a match they've sought for years, they'll be chanting my name and screaming for me to 'please come back'. And when I rip you down from the top rope as you come close to touching hands with the sky for once in your life and damn-near tear your arm out of its socket until you tap, you'll realize just how woefully underprepared you are.

I'll see you in the ring, MDE. I hope you're ready for me, because i'm ready for you.

[Jim Houston]

MDE sits at his desk with the young woman we saw yesterday.

YW: And then you fly out to Berlin at 3pm. I've booked a taxi for 12:30.

MDE: You hear from Progress yet?

YW: Um... no. Still nothing. I'll follow up with them.

MDE: Anything else?

YW (showing MDE a tablet screen): This video appeared on Twitter yesterday. Graham Baker tagged you in it.

MDE (MDE gives a disapproving look): Twitter...

YW: We've been over this. Twitter is necessary for you. It gets you out-

MDE: Like you said, we've been over this. I'll respond.

YW: I'll chase Progress and I'll let you know if they've got anything,

MDE turns and the young woman pauses for a moment before leaving. She reaches the door and looks back, shrugging her shoulders and looking a little fed up. MDE doesn't look up.

MDE: Graham Baker... you've got a lot to say for yourself. Honestly, I don't care what you think of yourself, not past the impact it has on you in the ring anyway. I don't care much about what you say about me either, but let me set you straight on a few things. I lack passion and resilience? No no. Just like your speed comment, I simply have a different passion to you. Your definition of passion is going to the ring whenever you have a match, making the crowd excited and taking a beating before managing to squeak out a win. My version is grinding in the gym everyday. My version is spending hour after hour watching tape of my next opponents, my potential opponents. My version is going to the ring whenever I have a match and proving over and over again that I am the better man of the two. You say I don't have resilience. Funny thing about resilience is that the only people in wrestling who supposedly have so much of it are the people not good enough to dominate their matches. I'd rather say that I don't have setbacks.

MDE: You also say that I'm coming into our match unprepared. Well if you really did look up to me like you said, you'll know for sure that's a lie. I've seen every match you've ever wrestled. I've noted your strengths and your weaknesses. I've devised a game plan to beat you and my personal assistant is finding young wrestlers similar to yourself so that I can refine and perfect that gameplan. Believe me, when we step into the ring together you'll know for certain just how prepared I am. You started off talking to me about our similarities, but let me tell you about our differences. You called this match a dream match. You talk about fans wanting to see it. You talk about having amazing matches. I talk about winning. You care more about putting on a show and leaving a lasting impression than winning a match. That's all I care about. You want the fans to ask you back? I simply want to beat you and go onto the next opponent. I don't care when or where. I don't care if I get asked back or not. All I care about is getting in the ring and proving my dominance.

MDE moves closer to the camera, his face the only thing in shot.

MDE: Graham Baker, we have a very similar background but we don't have a similar future. By the time all's said and done, you'll have lost the biggest match of your career and will be relying on staying down long enough to be applauded to the back for trying hard. I'll be walking up the ramp safe in the certainty that I am indeed the better man. One day down the line sometime you'll be telling someone about how you used to be a wrestler and they'll ask you why you stopped. You'll tell them that you weren't... simply great.

The camera shuts off as MDE stares blankly down the lens.

[The_Aviator_GB]

After watching MDE's last promo, Baker waits a few days before filming his next promo. The camera begins recording as Baker stands against a blank wall, his face covered in sweat. He's just finished a match, obviously, and he looks into the camera with intent.

MDE. For a man who claims to care so little about me, you don't hesitate in responding time after time. You claim to have talent and skill for miles, to be one of the best in the world...but I have a feeling I've gotten just under your skin enough to make you itch. You claim that this match, a match against someone like you, is the biggest match in my career...but honestly, it's not. You hold yourself to such a pedigree of importance that you look at someone like me, and think that people like me are put on this Earth to put over people like you. You insult and you dig, you claim i've not got the skill to dominate, that i'm a low-tier wrestler and that you've got superiority over me...but you're mistaken.

Take every single like-minded technical wrestler in England of my build, and beat them all. You'll find no help in fighting me. Sure, you might know your way around someone faster, around someone of similar talents...but you won't be wrestling against me. You may dominate, MDE, but at the end of the night, you'll find all your domination's made you look like a fool when you slip up and find yourself tapping to an armbar, or on the receiving-end of a piledriver to the lights in the sky. You won't get dominance over me to begin with, though, because for all the hits you strike me with, i'll counter you back. I'll turn every powerbomb into a rollup, every hold into another...i'll take your in-ring surgery and turn it into malpractice, MDE. I may not be the best, but i'm no fool, and I know i'm a damn slight better than you. And I may not claim to be the best, but that sure-as-shit doesn't mean I'm the worst. 

To touch on my early point...this is just another match for me as it is for you. If I lose to you, will I be disappointed? Certainly, but it won't be my first loss. I'll bounce back, pick up a few wins and a few other titles, and face you again down the line. Maybe I'll win, maybe i'll lose, but I won't give up. When you lose to me, though, MDE, will you bounce back? Will you be able to deal with the crippling feeling of being embarrassed by someone you felt so superior to? Will you compete as you have?

Or will it eat you alive? Will you be the one who cuts whiny, complaining interviews about Graham Baker, how 'unprofessional' he is, and how he's the man who killed your passion for wrestling?

I'm a gambling man, MDE. And I bet on the latter. 

[Jim Houston]

MDE stands at the top of the ramp in an arena which looks as though it holds around five hundred people. A man with a German accent stands next to him.

German Man: So you make entrance here. How do you want light?

MDE: I don't want lighting.

GM: Dark? No light?

MDE: Just play the music and I'll walk to the ring.

GM: You want spotlight? Flashing lights? We have smoke.

MDE: No. Play the music. That's all.

GM: Oh... You are star attraction. We need to make you important.

MDE: I'm here to wrestle, not to do a show tune. I gave you the music and the video. Play them and let me do my job.

GM: Ja... Ok.

The German man walks away looking confused and he speaks to a man in a suit. MDE, meanwhile, turns to a camera.

MDE: See this, Graham Baker? This is Berlin. This is one of Europe's biggest wrestling promotions. I'm here to wrestle an exhibition match against one of the biggest names in Europe. I have no problem whatsoever getting matches to test myself. You think you've got under my skin? This thing is live tonight on YouTube. Maybe tune in and see if I miss a step and then you'll have your answer. The truth is that I do enjoy shutting people up when they talk about how they're going to beat me. You've done a lot of that so I certainly will enjoy shutting your mouth. I suppose we're both making big claims about this match but only one of us can back them up. When the bell rings for a second time, you'll see that I'm the one who can back up every single thing I've said to you.

MDE: You talk about me slipping up, making a mistake, giving you an opportunity. That won't happen. I'm sure you'll get your shots in. Maybe you'll even hit a big move or two. Hell, you might even lock in an arm bar once or twice. The problem is that I'll always have a counter. I'll always have a plan, a back up plan and three other plans in reserve just in case. You think you can counter everything I do? What will you do when I counter each and every one of your counters into a move even more dangerous and even more devastating than the original? Each time you stop one move, I'll find a second. I might even give you an easy counter just to pull off a surprise and catch you sleeping with the move I was looking for all along. I'll out-wrestle you, I'll out-manoeuvre you and you know I'll out-think you.

MDE: I can see even from this little exchange why people like you. You've got a certain way with words. That malpractice line was pretty cute. A way with words and a level of likeability might get you so far, might even get you to the so-called big leagues where wrestling is a dirty word, but it won't fly when you're in the ring with me. You can smile, slap hands and rile up the crowd all you like, but unless they storm the ring and hold me down, none of that will help you. The bottom line is this: when you and me meet in the ring, all of this talk will be for nothing. All that will matter will be which of us is the better wrestler, and, just like everyone else, you'll soon come to realise that the better wrestler is not going to be you. I'm glad you say you'll bounce back when you lose, because without guys like you, I'd soon run out of opponents. Make sure you're watching tonight.

MDE turns and walks back up the ramp, straight past the two men who try and stop him for a conversation.

[The_Aviator_GB]

At a show on the East Coast of the United States in New Jersey, Graham Baker claims another win over a CZW alum, further solidifying his reputation. Baker holds his hands up in victory, and grabs a microphone, looking into the hardcam. He points downward at the ring.

Recently, as many of you know, a man by the name of MDE has called me out repeatedly, claiming i'm insufficient in my technical skills, my in-ring ability, and my pedigree as a professional wrestler. MDE's attempted to put me down time after time, and he wants to show he's better and better than me. He goes to fancy German shows, big exotic promotions, wrestling some of the best wrestlers in the world. He doesn't care for flashy entrances, or making an impression, or, for the most part, you.

At this, Baker motions to the fans, who boo in unison. 

MDE's a skilled man, as I've said many, many times, but the guy's not going to go anywhere. All his wins and losses aren't gonna mean anything if he can't find his way back to a respectable card because they've gotten tired of his bullshit. I may not win all the time, but this promotion, this ring, this is my home. I come back here whenever i'm around, and I wrestle for these people, and they pay me a good lot to do so. Hell, if I wanted to, I could show up for an open challenge on a whim with an hour's notice, and someone will come out and fight me, i'll beat them, and I'll still get paid. You know why, MDE? Because i've worked my ass off to maintain this relationship, this love that this place and its fans have for me. You? You speak on matches in Progress, in Germany, wherever you go...but when's the last time you went to Progress, MDE? When's the last time Sabre called you out for a match? 

And, just so you know, I did watch your match in Germany. Impressive, i'd like to see you go against the same opponent again for another win...but I doubt you'll be back there either. MDE, you're a one-hit-wonder, and i'm gonna show you the same in FPW when we have our match. When you lose and opt not to return because your petty ego can't handle it, and you have to find yet another promotion to scuttle wins from, i'll be in title contention. I promise you that. 

For now, though, if you're so intent on proving you're the better man, i'm back here a week from today. Match is at the middle of the card-one on one. Show up. We'll see who's the better man then. 

Graham puts the microphone down, and the fans break out in a 'FUCK MDE' chant. Graham motions for them to keep it down before rolling out of the ring, the camera recording for another few seconds to catch the chant before moving on. 

[Jim Houston]

"And his opponent..."

Graham Baker stands in the ring in the very same arena we last saw him in, bouncing on the spot as he waits for his opponent for the night. A man who looks to be about thirty, quite hairy and with a bit of a gut walks out into the arena and is booed by many of the crowd. Suddenly from behind, a hooded man jumps him, knocking him down and repeatedly stomping on his arm. As quick as a flash, the hooded man traps his arm inside a chair and stomps down on it, causing the wrestler to writhe around in pain. Graham Baker jumps out of the ring and charges at the hooded man just as security gets to him and keeps them separate. The hooded man pulls down his hood to reveal he is MDE. Baker tries to lunge at him but security hold him back. MDE picks up a mic.

MDE: Careful there, Graham. We're not sanctioned to wrestle here so if you touch me you could get in serious trouble. We wouldn't want that now, would we? Last week you invited me here to face you man to man and here I am. You may be wondering why I took out your opponent rather than you. It's simple. Reason number one- I don't want you to have any excuse for not beating me. I want you at your best when we finally go toe to toe. Reason number two- it's very obvious to me that you value putting on a show more than anything else, and without an opponent, you can't do that. You may say that I've robbed the fans of their chance to see you in action. I think of it more as a mercy gift. We go one on one in two short weeks. All of your talk about whether or not I can stick around anywhere or whether or not I can get along with anyone will fill some time but it's starting to get old and boring. I suggest you start to focus on our match rather than on what I'm doing everywhere else.

MDE drops the mic and begins to walk out, but Graham Baker picks it up and quickly calls to him.

GB: Hey, MDE. Just wait up a second. I know what you said about us not being sanctioned to wrestle tonight but... as I've got such a good relationship with this promoter and these people... I'm sure I could swing it so we can. I bet I could get even you booked if I asked nicely. Who here wants to see me kick MDE's ass right here right now?

The fans cheer loudly as MDE turns and looks at Graham Baker with a thoughtful expression.

Ring announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, I've just had it through that this match is officially sanctioned. Graham Baker's opponent... M... D... E!

The fans boo and Baker smiles and backs away to the ring, rolling inside and beckoning MDE to follow him. MDE simply stares him down as the seecurity makes a pathway for him. He starts to walk towards the ring as the fans begin a 'Yes' chant. MDE climbs onto the apron and puts one foot through the ropes before backing off and jumping back down again. He backs away and picks up the mic once again.

MDE: Nice try, Graham. You know that I'll be ready to more than beat you when we go one on one so you wanted to try and catch me cold before I was fully prepared. That's not going to happen. Until then, you have your fun here wrestling guys with less talent than I have in my little finger. Whatever this little place is called, the only place you'll see this match is Freedom Pro Wrestling in Chicago, Illinois. I'd say I can't wait, but I guess I can wait a lot easier than you can.

MDE drops the mic and turns away, walking up the ramp as the fans give him abuse. One tries to get in his face but he brushes straight past, disappearing through the curtain as Graham Baker stands with his arms wide in disbelief.

[Zeke]

*Zeke appears on the screen*
Bobby, me and you. We meet again. You bested me once but that's before I found what I had this whole time. That's before I found the Freedom Fighters. But now Bobby, I have them on my side. I feed off of them. Don't believe me? Well, you'll find out soon enough. I'll see you soon Bobby.

[Deleted]

*El Tímido sits in the locker room, clearly nervous.*

ET: **muttered** I can't handle this. Everyone's so excited for my debut, but I know somehow I'm gonna screw this up. I wish I could ----

*He's interrupted by a knock at the door. He walks over to the door.

ET: Wh-who is this?

AZ: Azrael. I'm your opponent for The New Batch yes?

*El Tímido goes white.*

ET: Oh. Your probably here to beat me up so I can't compete. *Tímido opens the door.* Go ahead. I don't wanna compete, anyway.

AZ: No. Why would I do that? I wanted to just wish you good luck for our match on Sunday. But what's this about not wanting to compete?

ET: Well, with all these people who seem really excited for my debut, I just know that somehow I'm gonna disappoint them.

AZ: It wouldn't hurt to try though. Besides, it's the least you could do for the fans, no?

ET: Well, I... I guess I could try.

AZ: Good. I look forward to our match on Sunday. *Walks down the hall.*

ET: Sure. I-I guess so. *stares down hallway, then heads back into the locker room.*