Phase Eighty-Seven: Rize or Die

Rule Number One

Pillman stands in the ring with a mic in hand a fury etched onto his face. Hell’s single vein surfaces near his temple as he paces back and forth in the ring. “I had a golden opportunity for a shot at gold and it was stolen from me by the same man that’s been trying to torment me since day one. And yet when it came to lock up in the ring, he couldn’t get the job done, so I’m really confused right now. I’m confused because he continues to dig an even deeper hole for himself. It’s as if he hasn’t quite reached the bottom...yet. If Finn wants me to be the one to hammer in the last nail of the coffin, then I’ll gladly lay claim to that opportunity.”

As he looks to continue, the arena goes dark and the titantron glows with a white light. An image of Finn materializes, but his face was warped by the presence of mixed paints. The colors swirled together to form intricate patterns along his skin, cloaking his upper physique. His eyes were closed, but soon dark orbs stare back at him with a grin. “You want Balor? Why meddle with a prince, when you can have fun with a king? You want to bury us beneath the dirt, nail us down in an early grave, Brian? Then come find me and do your worst.”

The screen statics before going blank and the arena slowly becomes filled with light again. Brian tosses the mic aside and hurries out of the ring with only one goal in mind: find him.

UIC Pavilion

Heart of Phoenix Championship Match
Alexa Bliss vs Frankie Valentine

Alexa forearms Frankie from the start and tries to take her down with a DDT. Valentine reverses and gets the knee into the gut before dropping Alexa with a double underhook suplex. She rolls over into a pin, but Alexa immediately kicks out. Bliss yanks Frankie up by the hair and whips her into the ropes before catching Bliss with a dropkick. The champion rolls away onto the apron and Frankie knocks her off with a shoulderblock. The referee starts the count as Alexa is slow to her feet and Frankie climbs the corner for a crossbody to the woman. She sends Alexa back into the ring and she rolls all the way to the ropes again.

Frankie tries to capitalize, but Alexa holds onto the ropes and kicks the face. She’s up and quickly rebounds off the ropes for an arm drag. As Valentine stands, Bliss races in with a front dropkick. Frankie rolls into the corner and Alexa stomps her down mercilessly until the referee forces her back. She races in again and gets the running knee to cover Frankie. The challenger kicks out at two. Bliss lifts Frankie up by the hair, but the challenger chops the chest and gets her on the shoulders for a gutbuster. Alexa rolls into the corner and Frankie tries for the cannonball. She connects and Alexa is stunned. Frankie gets her up and sets up the St. Valentine’s sunset flip, but Alexa crawls through the legs to avoid it and gets a kick to the head.

Alexa shoves her into the corner and follows up with a Code Red of her own from the corner. One...two...th—Frankie kicks out. Bliss stomps her feet on the mat, arguing with the referee about a slow count before Frankie rolls her up. One...two...th—Bliss reaches up to thumb the eye and break the count. The referee doesn’t notice and she rolls Frankie up. One...two...three! Alexa retains in her first defense of the title, but she wasn’t done. The blonde stomps down on Frankie after the match, snatching the title from the referee. “THIS IS MY TITLE! It’s not going anywhere!” She shouts as she pushes the belt in Frankie’s face. Bliss stomps her once more before holding the belt up high with a wicked smile on her face.

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Rule Number Two

The singer turned wrestler didn’t bother going out to the ring to make her declaration. In fact, she wasn’t even in the building. Instead, the woman sat at home with an elegantly designed, silk robe wrapped around her physique. The pink material glimmers slightly as her living room lights catch the surface of the robe. The room itself was just as elegantly designed, even the sofa appeared to cost more than brand new car or tv. That was Candice, though. Living a life of luxury after a life of hardships—lies, anguish, and death. That never stopped her from achieving whatever she set her mind to and now she resides in PCW with a title shot earned in her very first match.

The brunette runs her manicured nails through her hair, letting out a soft sigh as she lifts a delicate cup from the coffee table. The tea set in front of her was just glamorous as the rest of the house, and as she puts her lips to the edge, the cup’s intricate designs take a shine of their as it was made with an unknown crystal-like material. “My very first match in PCW has granted me a title shot at very prestigious championship.” She clears her throat and a butler appears with a cover over a platter. He removes the cover and a small trophy sits still in the center. The plaque had “Call Your Shot” written across it with a date from Sweeneymania all the way to next year’s big show. “You see, this trophy allows me to cash in at anytime and anywhere within the year for the Future Phoenix Championship.” She waves him off and he leaves with the trophy covered once again.

“That title is a prediction into the future. That title declares that the holder is worthy of being the face of this company. That individual will someday hold the most prestigious titles of them all, and that is something to look forward to...but I’m patient. I have an entire year to call my shot, and I am not going to waste it while I have a literal thorn in my ass trying to knock me off course.” Cornell takes another sip of tea and smiles. “It was clear from the beginning that my presence would ultimately shift the balance in PCW. I’m Candice-fucking-Cornell. I know how to do the most by doing very little, and all it took was for me to show just to rock the boat. Of course, if you go over board? You probably weren’t meant to ride along in the first place. The only kinds of people who sink instantly in my presence are basic, insignificant, no-name, and insecure bitches with very little confidence in their own abilities.”

“That sounds exactly like Taeler Hendrix, if you ask me. The minute I announced my arrival, she was on my ass looking for attention. It’s almost like her mouth was watering at the thought of snatching up a few minutes of fame given my status in this business and my music career. Now I’m not saying I can blame her because back in my younger days, I was just as eager to chase after the fame. I grew up, though, and realized I’d rather be the one chased than running like a dog after anybody else. Now I’m here in PCW as one of the most accomplished musicians and wrestlers to date. And what about Taeler? What has she done?” Cornell starts to laugh and puts her teacup back on the table. “I’ll ask again: what has she done?”

“Nothing that’s worth talking about. If otherwise, she would be at the top of the food chain with everyone nipping at the heels when she returned. Instead she was a footnote in my biggest achievement yet. So sad. All that effort and you still came in second place, but that’s where you belong when you lack the capabilities to be in first. Honestly, you might not even be top five when I’m done with you, but nobody would bat an eye about it. You are a forgotten face in this company; therefore, no one would double take if I turned that oh so pretty face into a pile of manure.” Candice gives off another award-winning smile as she picks up the teacup again.

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MJF (With Penelope Ford) vs Davey Richards

MJF has Davey in the headlock early and tries for the DDT early on, but Davey gets him up with a northern lights suplex for a one count. He kips up and catches Maxwell with a knee to the side of the face before getting MJF up into a fireman’s carry. Maxwell tries to fight out of it and gets a rollup. One...two—Davey kicks out and Friedman is caught with a dropkick before he can stand. Richards drags him by the leg, but MJF kicks him back. He races to the ropes and Penelope holds out her arms to grab him. Davey tries to pull MJF back and Ford is unfortunately dragged in by her client. “NO, NO, NO! Max, let go! LET GO! AAAHHH!” She was pulled in entirely and scrambles into the corner as Davey races in for a double stomp to the back.

He glares Penelope down and she slowly exits the ring, allowing MJF time to roll him up for another two count. They both stand and Maxwell gets the boot to the gut. He follows up with a punch to the face and lifts Davey for a vicious backbreaker into the submission. Richards’s back is bent over the leg with MJF pushing down on the neck. He refuses to tap out and knees MJF in the face repeatedly to escape. He crawls towards the ropes as MJF stomps after him and chokes him against it. The referee forces him back and Ford races in with a dropkick on the apron to Davey.

The fans boo her heavily as Maxwell capitalizes and has Richards up for the South Hampton DDT. He puts Richards away in his debut. Ford and MJF celebrate in the ring until Hania cones racing down the ramp. She slides in and ducks a clothesline from Maxwell to spear Ford to the mat. She lays in punch after punch until Friedman grabs her by the hair. She forces him back with an enziguri and Davey was up to deliver a code breaker to drop the champion. Penelope rolls out of the ring and drags MJF with her, the belt clutches in her arm as they retreat up the ramp.

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Rule Number Three

Through the lens of a handheld camera, a home was show upon the titantron. It was a modest home, big enough for a family—a perfect white-picket and rose bushes kind of home. It was a place meant for stability and harmony. As the recording continues, the camera inches in towards the building, but revert towards the back of the house. Whoever was there found a window cracked open to let the cool, spring air flow into a bedroom. The window lifted and the camera eased inside before the owner came next, black boots hitting the floorboards came into view. The camera was lifted and the figure examined the room.

A closer look revealed a baby room. The crib stood close to the window with blankets and toys already set for it. The room owned a bookcase with baby books and baby proof covers over plug-ins and other hazardous objects. The slightest chuckle came from the intruder’s lips, but still his face was yet to come into view. He traveled from the room and down the hall, voices coming from the distance. He inched his way towards an open door and peeked inside. Danielle sat on the edge of the bed, Tyler laying down with bandages around his head. He gave her a smile and lets out a sigh.

“I’m fine. It’s just a concussion. I’ll be ready to compete next week. Already talked it over with management, and no, you can’t stop me."

“I don’t plan to. You’re too stubborn for that, but don’t miss the ultrasound, okay? It’s next week on the same day.”

She pecks his lips and went into the bathroom. The camera was still rolling, taking everything in.

The man walks in as if he owned the place, completely unafraid as Breeze’s gaze rests on him suddenly. The blonde sits up quickly, but the intruder was on him even faster as he was injury free. A hand clamps down over Tyler’s mouth and the intruder squeezes down, sighing his fingers into the skin slightly. “Speak and you’ll lose more than some cognitive abilities,” he spoke as he nodded towards the bathroom. His voice was all too familiar and it became crystal clear who broke in as the camera rests on the dresser to take it all in. Callihan gives it a wide grin before chuckling to himself softly. “Nice place you got here. Cozy, family-like.” Breeze stares him down with complete hatred as Callihan examines the room.

“You said you had no time for me, so I decided to make some time.” He looks to the bathroom as the door was still closed. “Don’t tell me you’re too busy spending it with baby momma. Other than a pair of melons, I’d like to think I’ve got her beat in all the right areas. I can beat it up better than she ever could, leave you blue and black all over. The chamber was proof of that, don’t you think? And let’s be real, you’d be a shitty father, so let’s pretend the kid is a nonfactor in your life. Danielle can’t get your heart racing and blood pumping quite like I can, so...it’s time you put your focus elsewhere, Breeze. On the thing that fucking matters—me. More specifically...how badly I want to rip you to fucking pieces.”

The toilet flushed behind the door and the sink turns on as Danielle starts to whistle. “You thought the chamber was it? Oh, boy...I got some news for you. I’m not done with you, you little bitch. You cost me my title, so now I’m going to take something from you.” Breeze’s eyes widen as Callihan looks to the door and starts to squirm under his grasp, trying to pull his arm back. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I got :some: morals. I wouldn’t take out a pregnant woman. Just not my style...but I’ll gladly pick apart daddy until there’s nothing left for the bitch to love on. You fucked with me enough and now I’m going to return the favor by snapping your goddamn neck like a twig.”

Callihan moves his hand to Breeze’s throat, choking the life out of him as Danielle finishes washing her hands. He gives Tyler a final smile before dragging him out of the bed to slam his face against the dresser, further exasperating the head injury. Sami leaves the camera behind as he smashes open a window just as Danielle burst through the door. She screams as Callihan jumps out and drops down to take care of an barely conscious Breeze. All that can be heard are her small screams and frantic urges to wake Tyler up before calling the ambulance.

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Mitchell Knight vs Becky Lynch

The two lock up and Knight instantly gets behind her for a rollup. She kicks out at two, but eats a dropkick as Mitchell picks up speed. He rebounds of the ropes with a soccer kick to the chest and hooks both legs again for a two count. Lynch is dazed as Knight continues to use his speed for an advantage, taking her back down with a double foot stomp to the chest for another unsuccessful pin. He drags the redhead into the corner by the leg and stomps the chest before climbing high for an inverted 450 Splash.

Becky is able to get the knees up and create some distance. They both slowly stand and he tries for a dropkick, but she sidesteps him. As he stands, Becky catches him with a kick to the gut and whips him into the corner for multiple forearms to the face. She tosses him out of the corner to the mat and climbs the middle turnbuckle for the leg drop into the pin. Knight kicks out. Becky has him up into the headlock for the fisherman buster suplex, but he battles his way out. Knight tries to counter into a neckbreaker, but Lynch uses her strength to force him down into a backslide pin. One...two...t—Knight kicks out.

He tries to connect with a roundhouse, but she ducks and gets behind him for a full Nelson suplex. Knight rolls through into his knees, completely stunned as Becky follows up with a low elbow to the chest. She hooks the legs for another close pin. Lynch gets him up and Knight suddenly connects with an enzuigiri. He shoves her back into the ropes and tries for a clothesline, but Becky uses her momentum to slide between the legs and trip him up before locking in the Dis-armer to force Knight to tap out. Lynch earns her first point in PCW.

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Welcome to Fight Club

Jackal was scheduled to appear before PCW to celebrate his championship victory. The fans waited and waited, but the champion never came. As they begin to murmur amongst one another with concern, the titantron begins to play live footage from the backstage area. Every fan directed their head towards the screen, but it was hard to see. The area was dimly lit with only one fluorescent light flickering. Phil’s body laid in the hallway, the light revealing brief images of red substance across his chest. Of course, the first assumption was blood, but as the camera zooms in to take a better look, the substance was far too light to be blood. The light flickers and for a split second, they can see the words “Dominatrix of Darkness” scribbled in cursive writing. A lone kiss outline floated just below that line, surrounding his belly button perfectly.

The footage immediately changes. Random images of cultures, the desert, deterioration of a dead animal, and more flipped back and forth across the screen. Maggots lined the screen momentarily as the dead animal made an anguished cry. Then the sun sets beyond mountains, revealing a pair of stars to truly be dark eyes floating in the sky. Another image of black boots click along the hall where the champion was laid out. The figure was all too familiar as blonde locks flow down her back. Her face didn’t need to be seen, she was easy to pick out from any crowd. Strange words begin to sound in the distance, almost inaudible, if one wasn’t listening closely. This strange language incited another array of distorted images until it finally settles on a pair of ruby red lips. Two rows of pearly whites are revealed as the final word is spoken and those lips spread from ear to ear.

Next Weekly Show:

Season 29. PCW Live.