This match has been given a 18 hour extension.

((I know it's not quite as descriptive as usual. I've been sick as hell all week, so this has just kind of been thrown together in the past two days. That said, it's still a pretty kickass match - enjoy ))

A still silence hangs in the air tonight in Sacramento alongside the XWA Lionheart Championship. It dangles from the clenched hand of a man clad in zebra stripes, a no-nonsense official of Asian descent by the name of Ryu Sanu. Its brilliant plates are absent now, removed sometime in the last week and replaced with wooden replicas by the newest champion, who has sworn off the greed and glory of gold. He stands in one corner of the ring, a determined glare in his eyes peering out from under his furrowed brows. Across the ring, the gaze of boundless fury is met by one of hunger for destruction. The man who laid claim to the prize between them only a few short weeks ago catches his eyes wandering back to the oak abomination time and time again with the prospect of redemption in mind. The bell rings and the combatants begin to inch forward with caution, measuring one another up. As they do, a cry begins to go up from the audience, screaming “FUCK HIM UP, VLADIMIR, FUCK HIM UP!” until it grows into a chant. A smirk begins to form across his lips and he backs away from his opponent for a moment, who seems to be a bit confused by the commotion. The Barbarian Lord reaches out through the ropes, Laura Watts passing him a microphone. He raises it up to speak, waiting as the war cries persist.

JM: “The fuck is all of this? Did I miss something?”
TC: “Quite possibly. Despite being from Romania, this may as well be a homecoming for Vladimir Strife.”
JM: “Aw, come on, Ted. I mean, sure, some of these people look poor, but not that bad..”
TC: “No, Joey. Vladimir spent the majority of his career working in Concord, California, just barely over an hour’s drive from here. It seems that, despite his underhanded tactics and heinous acts, he has a rather strong following among the fans he performed for.”
JM: “So he’s basically the Pittsburgh Steelers?”

The crowd finally begins to die down when at last the GodKing belts out his classic, yet simple catchphrase to rile them back up.

“LADIES AAAAND GENTLEMEN…. FUCK YOU!”

Despite the derogatory nature of the comment, the patrons go wild in a positive way, the brash attitude of the Behemoth being somewhat of a trademark. He lowers the mouthpiece, but it’s apparent that Mark is none too pleased with the distraction. The Fallen First pounces upon the Czar of Scars, pounding a forearm down between his shoulderblades as he’s attempting to hand over the microphone. He follows up with a couple more blows, Vlad stumbling to get away from the punishing shots. Finding no reprieve as the Dejected Devil continues his assault, Strife turns toward him and grabs him by the sides. He falls back, pulling Storey forward and directing him between the top two sets of ropes, promptly ejecting him from the ring. The former Lionheart Champion tumbles across the padded ringside mats, but quickly pulls himself up, caught off guard but hardly phased otherwise by the tactic. Inside the ring, the Barbarian Lord is back to his feet and scoops up the microphone before glancing out at his opposition.
“Grab something hard and heavy and let’s get this show on the road.”

JM: Hell yes! It looks like this one is going hardcore right out of the gate!

TC: And that should come as no surprise to anyone familiar with either of these stars. Both of these men have made big names for themselves in this business, in part because of their predilection for the extreme. It was just one week ago, in fact, that we saw both of these men absolutely dominate Ace Andrews and Jared Jerusalem in hardcore contests, handily paving their ways into the second round of the King of Xtreme tournament.

JM: It was a tragic week for men with repeating initials everywhere.

TC: Well, not completely. Last week we also saw Danny Diamond reunite with Rob Chapman to bring back the Short Change Heroes.

JM: Exactly! On top of Ace and Jared getting their shit stomped, our World champion turned out to be in cahoots with a dirty fucking Canuck.

Mark is happy to oblige Vladimir, pulling the apron up and seizing a steel chair from below. As he does, the Behemoth takes one of his own, snatching it up from the bellkeeper's station and folding it shut. The men make a beeline for one another, rounding the corner of the ring before raising their weapons. Mark lands the first shot, slamming the seat down across the bicep of the Barbarian Lord as he turns in to meet the blow. Strife returns with one of his own, glancing the brow of Storey. A gun shot bang rings out as Mark brings the weapon down across the crown of the GodKing, who staggers back from the blast, only to return the favor. Mark reels back, but refuses to relent the battle, coming back with the chair in a wide arc. The Czar of Scars does nothing to stop it, presenting his cheek and allowing his head to be batted nearly off of his shoulders, sending him into the edge of ring gracelessly. He stumbles back into position erratically on legs wobbly enough to bring to mind the sight of a baby deer walking for the first time. He raises the most classic of hardcore weaponry over his head before stepping in as he brings it straight down once more, the steel flat warping from the force as it nearly folds over upon the cranium of Mark Storey. Mark's upper half swings down, the former Lionheart champion nearly collapsing upon himself as well. His hand reaches out, taking hold of the fabric strewn across the side of the ring and nearly ripping it off as he clutches it for support, his opposite fingers still clutching the steel chair for dear life. Vladimir doesn't bother to wait for Mark's turn, this time, lifting the great equalizer and slapping it down between his shoulders with a thunderous clap of flesh and steel. Mark groans out in pain, his back curved from the impact, and releases the apron, taking his own chair with both hands before jabbing the top of it's ungiving frame up between the Romanian's thighs as he's readying for an encore. In his agony, the champion relents his weapon, it banging down across the steel steps as he grabs at he bends forth. Mark takes Vlad by the back of the head and rolls him into the ring under the bottom rope. He throws his chair in over the top, it rattling across the canvas beside Vlad's head with a clatter. Scanning the storage portion of the squared circle again, Mark finds the signature weapon of the contest, a collapsible pressboard table, and drags it out, the audience going wild at the sight in spite of their favoritism for the opposition.

TC: It looks like Mark is going for the table early on, wasting no time bringing that into play.

JM: Ooh! I bet he's trying to break his record from last week. He's going to put Vlad through that table even quicker than he dismantled Ace Andrews!

TC: I wouldn't be so sure about that. Mark is an incredible star with such a lengthy and - pardon the expression - storied career and this is absolutely the sort of environment in which he truly shines, but the same could be said of the GodKing. Both of these men are just such violent legends of the industry. I wouldn't count either of them out of this contest until that bell rings and it's official.

JM: Yeah, sure. Vlad's been around, done his thing, all that too, but come on, Theodore. He already got his ass handed to him once in this tournament. Meanwhile, Mark absolutely manhandled Ace last week. Not some newcomer who just walked onto the scene from a Kung Fu movie, not a man who almost got HIS ass handed to him by Mark the week before, but Ace fucking Andrews!

TC: And that is one hell of a reason for Vlad to worry tonight, but let's also remember that the Czar of Scars left the former XWA World champion, Maddox Paine, bloodied and beaten in that ring at ENDURE and also managed to beat Jared Jerusalem, who won the Lionheart from Mark Storey in the first place.

JM: Yeah, one week later, while Jared was clearly struggling from that beating Mark gave him in that match. Don't get me wrong, Vlad is a great wrestler, I'm a huge fan of his work, but I just don't think he is quite as badass as Storey.

Having set up a table at ringside, Mark heads back into the ring to deal with the man he intends to put through it. Vladimir, rises back up to his feet, still sputtering out the odd cough from the vicious blow to his privates. He throws a wild right as Mark closes in on him, catching the Prince of Perpetration across the cheek and taking him back a step. The Barbarian Lord follows, tucking Mark’s head into his armpit. He attempts to bar it across the throat of Mark, but finds a hand already in the way, which keeps it away from his sensitive airways. With his hopes of a guillotine choke to wear Mark down with dashed, the GodKing releases his hold, a short push providing distance. Mark, however, quickly rushes back in, bicep aimed for the collarbone of the Behemoth. Vlad ducks below it, racing forth into the ropes and throwing himself against them. As he rebounds, Mark turns around just in time to see him drop low, pushing his feet out before him. The soles of the Czar’s shoes fly past the knee of Mark as he steps out of the way, leaving nothing but open air in Vlad’s warpath. Vlad quickly scrambles up, Mark waiting for him with a sinister grin and the steel chair he lifts off of the mat.

TC: No luck there for the GodKing as he goes for the dropkick to the knee. This is what makes Storey such a dangerous competitor. This man does his homework. By the time you step into the ring with him, he already has you pegged. He knows what you’re going to be going for, how you’ll try it, and it makes it very simple for him to deny you that while wearing you down.

JM: Sounds like my ex..

TC: Perhaps, but at least we don’t have to worry about Mark leaving for a competitor that doesn’t live with their mother.

JM: ..Did.. Did you just make a joke, Theodore? I’d kill you if I wasn’t so proud.

Mark swings for the fences, but nobody is home as Vlad sidesteps the attempted decapitation and raises a sharp knee into his gut. As the chair clatters against the mat, Strife turns his opponent toward his, but Mark uses the momentum to turn in toward the GodKing with an European uppercut. Vladimir is only just able to get out of harm’s way, taking a big step back before grabbing the arm and sending the Fallen First across the ring with an Irish whip. Storey, closing in on the ropes quickly, bounds into the air, slapping his feet down across the middle rope. Before he can turn this inertia into momentum, the Czar of Scars comes from behind, having raced after him, and pounds his forearm hard across the back of the Dejected Devil, sending him over the top rope to the outside and the table below. Mark grabs the top rope, clinging desperately as he unravels toward an early climax – a fate most humiliating. His boot hits the corner of the table, but it’s thankfully not enough to break it. As he dangles from the side of the ring, the XWA faithful have come out of their seats, watching like a hawk as the end looks near.

TC: How close was that!? Mark almost went right through that table, that could have been it, ladies and gentlemen!

JM: Yeah, sure, but he didn't. And he's not going to.

TC: I don't see how you can feel so sure about that. This match is really anyone's game, Joey. Both of these men are just so experienced and ruthless that this thing could turn on a dime.

As Vladimir makes his way over to the man who has defied his plans for an early night, The Fallen First gets his feet onto the edge of the ring and stands up straight. He throws an elbow back over the top rope, catching the cheek of the Romanian and sending him reeling back. Mark grabs onto the top rope and leaps up onto it, pressing off and throwing himself at Strife, putting his legs out straight before him and slamming his heels into the GodKing’s sternum. The men go down with a thunderous boom, but Mark is quick to rise back up, taking Vlad by the back of the head and leading him along. Once they are upright, the Dejected Devil again goes for a European uppercut, finding no resistance this time from the weary Czar of Scars. He stomps at the champion’s gut, but the Hardcore King catches his foot. Mark quickly takes to the air again, throwing the other foot for the temple of the Barbarian Lord. Vlad is quick to duck, releasing Storey’s other leg and allowing him to land upon both. As he does, Strife steps in behind the Fallen First, wrapping his arms around his waist before hoisting him into the air and releasing him, letting him come crashing down upon the canvas shoulders first. He comes to a rest, a wince upon his face, but the pain in his back is nothing compared to what follows as the Behemoth bounces off of the ropes and comes rushing at him. He leaps into the air and straightens his leg, bring it down across the length of Storey’s body, his heel pounding into the Prince of Perpetration’s family jewels.
While Mark tries to console himself, Strife takes to the outside again, flipping the apron up and grabbing at almost any weapon he can find. He throws a barbed wire wrapped brick over the top rope, it bouncing across the mat as he digs further. Next is a classic kendo stick, following behind it, succeeded by a cheese grater. Vlad sets a black satchel onto the edge of the ring before sliding back in, grabbing the closest weapon, the classic steel chair that has clearly seen better days by this point in the contest. The GodKing holds it up tall as the Fallen First begins to pull himself back up with the assistance of the ropes, stalking him and waiting for his moment to strike. When that moment comes, he finds nothing but air, Storey quickly evading the blow and popping up behind the Behemoth. Strife turns right into a huge roundhouse that slams the steel across his forehead, splitting his brow as he tumbles to the canvas. As a rivulet of red begins to run down the side of Vlad’s face, Mark scoops up the kendo stick and slams it down across the pectorals of the Czar of Scars, bringing him back from the verge of unconsciousness. He lays into the champion with slap after slap of the shinai, welts rising up from beneath every crack as the Romanian desperately tries to get up from the mat to defend himself. As he straightens himself, a huge swing catches him across the ribs, doubling him over. Vlad drops onto his knees and Mark tosses the practice sword aside, taking the steel chair and unfolding it in the middle of the ring before his opponent. He sets the suffering Strife’s head down onto the seat, then reverses himself into the ropes. He comes barreling back, leaping up before bringing his soles down, his weight behind them, onto the skull of the Czar. The seat buckles under the force, leaving the bloodied Behemoth in a hapless heap in the middle of the ring as the fans begin to scream “HOLY SHIT” in unison.

TC: OH MY GOD!! NAIL IN THE COFFIN! MARK JUST DAMN NEAR KILLED VLADIMIR!

JM: You bet your sweaty, dimpled ass, he did!

There is a long pause in which is seems Mark truly has put the Nail in the Coffin for both Vladimir and this contest, but finally the GodKing plants his palms onto the mat, forcing himself up enough that he can get his knees under him. The Dejected Devil shakes his head at the pitiful rally, marching forward and firing a hard kick into the Titan’s side, the force rolling Vlad over, allowing the audience to get a good look at his bloodied and grimaced visage. He rolls back over, crawling into the corner before pulling himself up, resting against the padding as he tries to catch his breath. Before he is able, what remains of it is expelled from his chest courtesy a pair of flying knees slamming into his pectorals. Mark tows Vlad back toward the middle of the ring, then crosses his arm over the Czar of Scars’ collarbone, stepping in behind him and pressing their backs to one anothers. The Fallen First drops down onto his knees, bowing the spine of the champion across his back. Vladimir's face twists with agony as he reaches behind him to comfort his tortured back, rolling over onto his side and arching it. Meanwhile, Mark's curiosity gets the best of him as he spots the black bag on the edge of the ring. He opens it up, peering inside and grinning at what he sees before he turns it over, dumping a torrent of tacks across the mat. Despite their favoritism toward the Barbarian Lord, the fans can't help but cheer as Storey introduces a whole new level of pain to the contest. The Dejected Devil bends down and takes the GodKing by the back of the head, leading him up to his feet before tucking his cranium in between his thighs. He lurches forth, arms wrapping about the Romanian's waist before he hoists him up, precariously holding the Behemoth upside down before dropping onto his bottom and driving the King's crown into the pile of tacks. Strife rolls over, eyes fluttering and flickering across the boundary of consciousness, the light gleaming off his bedazzled scalp.

TC: Crave the Rose right onto those damn thumbtacks! Somebody end this damn thing already! That man needs medical attention!!

JM: It looks like rose had some goddamn thorns!

TC: Really?

JM: Hey, fuck off. I get paid to sit here and say shit about what's going on and blurt things out, they aren't always going to be winners, Theodore.

The Fallen First is quick to his feet, Vladimir not moving on the canvas beside him. Not particularly being a man of great patience, Mark takes the Czar of Scars by the back of the head and brings him upright once more. He takes Vlad's head into the pit of his arm, mirroring the image by draping Strife's arm over his neck before seizing the waist of his pants and lifting him up into the air. The Englishman's eyes drift over toward the table at ringside, but along the way, he takes not of a peculiar item upon the mat. He takes a step toward the brick wrapped in barbed wire, eager to give the GodKing a taste of what he'll be missing out on next week. He throws Vladimir back forward, but the time he's taken to set all of this up proves to be his undoing. Strife stills his arm about the neck of the former Lionheart champion, holding on tightly and swinging his legs in toward him. The men plummet to the canvas, landing upon the vicious almagam to the delight of the crowd. The current champion gazes up toward the lights a moment, taking a chance to recuperate before he rolls the Fallen First over. Blood gushes from a deep rip in the forehead of Mark Storey, having caught the corner of the brick in the impact. Vlad momentarily looks stunned and worried by the crimson flow, but gathers himself and rolls out of the ring, going back under it again in search of something. He seems to find it quickly, taking only a few short seconds to scoop it up and roll back in. He brings his hand forward, revealing a staplegun, which he presses against the gash before depressing the trigger. A heavy click preludes an inhuman scream from the Prince of Perpetration, who wildly throws a hard shot across the jawline of the GodKing before scrambling up to all fours. Strife, rubbing his jaw with his free hand, uses the armed one to reach out as Mark looks up, pounding another staple across the laceration. Storey yells in pain and brings his hand up over the injury, reeling from the agony. The Czar of Scars steps in behind him and reaches down, grabbing Mark by the top of the head and tilting it back. The Dejected Devil, unsure of much of anything in the moment beyond the waves of anguish coming from his skull, looks up at him with hazy eyes until Vlad brings the gun back down and fires again, bringing fire back into the Fallen First's eyes. He swats at the Barbarian Lord's weapon, but Strife moves it out of the way before it can be batted away from him. He quickly continues his macabre, ameatuer medical procedure, laying another staple across the tear just next to the last. Mark raises his hand up to cover it, but the Behemoth simply continues in spite of this, two sharp prongs digging into the backside of the legend's hand coaxing him to rethink how he is protecting himself. One final click cries out as the staplegun goes off again, twisting up the features of the Perpetrator in a wince. Vlad looks over what he's done and seems to be happy with it as he gives up the procedure, but not before slapping the side of the stapler down onto what were previously it's contents.

JM: Holy fuck, that was sweet! I've seen a lot of guys bust one another open in that ring before, but when have we ever seen one vicious enough to try to seal them back up for more, Ted. ...Ted?

TC: Give me just a minute, my uh... my stomach isn't feeling so good..

JM: Oh my god, are you going to puke? Sweaty Teddy, are you going to hurl? This may be the greatest night of my life. DO IT! HURL!

TC: Would you knock it off!?

The GodKing throws the staplegun aside and watches after Mark, who moves about on his hands and knees, trying to find the strength to rise back up. As he nears the ropes, Vlad rushes in, throwing a hard punt into the ribs of the Perpetrator, paying him back from earlier in the contest. Mark's upper body drops down onto the mat, but he manages to keep his knees under him as he stirs on the canvas, gathering himself from the vicious soccer kick. He begins to scoop thumbtacks from the nearby pile into his hand, cupping it to hold them and as Strife takes him by the head and tries to pull him up, he reveals their purpose. Mark slams his palm up between the thighs of the Barbarian Lord, jamming the hardware in it into Vlad's, well.. hardware. The Romanian belts out an ungodly screech as he releases his opponent and stumbles away, barely able to stay on his feet from the horrific and cheap tactic. The Fallen First rises up, at last, hardly able to stand himself but unable to allow this opportunity to pass him by. He tucks Strife's cranium between his legs, bending down and barring his forearms across Vlad's stomach before pulling him up and forward, rotating him until the tacks he'd just utilized were inches from his face. The GodKing, sitting upon Storey's shoulders as he paces over toward the table, realizes the position he is in, but doesn't respond to the danger. The Dejected Devil stands at the side of the ring before the table, the Sacramento crowd rising to their feet in anticipation before he throws him over the top rope and down onto it. The Czar of Scars careens right into the center of the presswood with a thunderous slap, flattening against it before rolling over the side and onto the ringside mats. Mark stands inside the ring where he'd chucked the Behemoth from, hands on his head and jaw dropped in disbelief. Ryu Sanu seems confused by what has happened as well and is unable to do anything but shrug when the Fallen First turns toward him. Even if the act they'd just witnessed defied the laws of physics, it was well within the rules of the match.

TC: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!? Vlad hit that table dead on, this match should be over! How the hell didn't it break!?

JM: OH MY GOD! Could it be!? It has to be! It's fucking magic!! Vladimir Strife is working with Jakob Azazel! He made the table unbreakable!

TC: What?!

JM: It's the only explanation that makes sense, Ted! Azazel gone to the dark side!

Storey exits the ring, rage in his eyes, bypassing his opponent to investigate the mystery himself. He gives it a few short punches, testing it's strength, Vladimir slowly crawling under the apron while he does, clearly hurt from the impact nonetheless. Mark grabs onto the edge of the table and flips it over in a burst of anger. When it falls onto it's top side, something in the undercarraige strikes the interest of the Fallen First. Across the  bottom of the table, thick planks are lined up next to one another, screwed onto it to provide a great deal of extra support. The Dejected Devil turns around sharply, spotting the champion as he rises up on the other side of the ring. Mark takes off in a sprint toward him, rounding the nearest corner as Vlad rests against the edge of the ring. When the Prince of Perpetration rounds the remaining corner, Strife quickly pulls up an object he carried out from under the ring with him. The small, rectangular patio table crashes down across Storey's skull, it's glass top bursting into shard. The thin, steel frame hangs over the neck of the Perpetrator as he teeters back and collapses, coming to rest on his side. It even takes a moment for the official to make sense of what happened before he suddenly puts it together and calls for the bell. It rings out as the Sacramento crowd goes beserk, 'Sumeria' striking up through the P.A. system.

LW: Ladies and Gentlemen... the winner of this contest and STILL XWA Lionheart champion.. VLADIMIRRRRR STRIFE!

TC: OH MY GOD! Vlad just nailed Mark Storey with a glass table! It's over!

JM: Holy hell, that's genius! And brutal! See, that's how I knew Vlad would pull this off all along.

TC: What!? You said-

JM: Eh, eh, Ted - no need to tell me I was right. Your silence is gift enough.

As Ryu hands the GodKing back the Lionheart title, he drapes it over his shoulder, stumbling back toward the back. He stops at the wooden table and bends down, giving a quick knock upon the planks before bursting out in laughter. He crosses over, making his way toward the back as a chant persists, fans screaming "VLAD-IM-IR!" over and over again in support of their makeshift hometown hero.

(OOC: Good Luck Vlad! Here's hoping I don't get marked down for playing it as heel vs. heel as there's no way I could've known that it was a sort've homecoming for Vlad?)

Once again we find ourselves presented with a match with more than one reward. We’re in Round 2 of the King of Xtreme Tournament, pitting two of last round’s winners, Vladimir Strife and Mark Storey, against each other to determine who moves on in the tournament. A ticket to the third round is not the only thing at stake as the XWA Lionheart Championship is on the line, the very title that Vladimir won last week on Vendetta, and that Mark lost the week prior. A former Lionheart Champion against the current Lionheart Champion, with Mark looking to continue to trend of 7 day-long champions. Not since Sean Young has the title been held by one person for more than 7 days, despite their being 3 champions before Vladimir. With each men taking a respective corner in the ring, and the ring having been surrounded by tables, folded up and leaning against the barricade, the referee takes the championship from Vladimir, showing it to him one last time, before walking towards Mark to show him. Storey looks at what he believes to be his title in disgust, its golden plates having been removed and replaced with wooden counterparts. He stares at it before glaring at Vladimir with a sour look on his face, Vladimir relishing at the thought of getting underneath Mark’s skin, exposing his greediness for gold, something that Vladimir will gladly punish the hated superstar for. “You FUCKING ruined it!” shouts Mark as the referee holds it high in the air, before calling for the bell and handing the title out to a member of the ring crew.

DING! DING! DING!

Vladimir makes his way towards the middle of thing ring, as does Mark, but Mark opts to run towards his foe! With a fast-pace from the get-go, Mark is caught and flipped over onto the canvas with a perfect Arm Drag from Strife. The Romanian superstar then applies an Arm Lock, wrenching on Mark’s right arm. “The Hardcore King” shows his technical side, twisting Mark’s arm, in an attempt to nullify any thought Mark had about using his MAS Ace Crusher finisher later on. Mark flails his left arm to his Vlad, but it is of no use. Instead, he switches to reaching a stance, pushing himself from the mat to his feet. Mark, hunched over in the arm lock, uses his free arm to push Strife in the stomach, not once, but twice, before Vlad decides to let go. When he does so, he takes a few steps back, which allows Mark to grab Vlad’s arm and pull him in for a quick clothesline dropping “The God King”. In a few seconds, Vlad is back on his feet, just in time for Mark to turn and target him with another clothesline. This time Strife is able to duck under the clothesline and instantly wrap his arm around the back of Mark’s neck and hit a hard neckbreaker! After Mark’s neck snaps across Vlad’s shoulder, he falls to the canvas and begins to roll towards the ropes, reaching them and exiting under, sitting on the ring apron. Looking at Mark, “The Czar of Scars” gets to his feet and runs towards Mark, sliding and dropkicking Mark’s back, sending him flying off the ring apron! As Mark staggers quickly, he loses his balance and walks directly into the barricade, meanwhile, Vlad slides under the bottom rope, following Mark.

“The Bambi Killer” grabs Mark by the neck and pulls him up, all in preparation to slam his forehead down hard on the barricade! Subsequently he places a knee right into Mark’s side, causing Mark to shout out in pain before he is grabbed in a front chancery and swung around side-first into the barricade! Again, Strife pulls Mark and swings him towards the barricade, forcing him into it before releasing Mark to lie on the lightly padded floor clasping his sides. Leaving “The Dejected Devil” to tend to his wounds, Vlad takes his time to grab one of the tables leaning against the barricade and pull it out. With no ring out count, Vlad sets it exactly where he wants it and pulls one of the two legs out. He fastens to clip and then grabs the other leg out and does the same. He bends over to lift the table up but Mark interjects himself back into the match, knocking Vlad over with a forearm/tackle hybrid! The two men awkwardly fumble over the table and to a fall, leaving Mark somewhat mounted over the champion. With Vlad in this precarious position, Storey begins to pound on him, right punch after right punch. Vlad frantically tries to block, only allowing Mark one last elbow to the cheek, before Mark stands up in victory. The crowd cheer but Mark ignores them, disallowing them to pick a favourite in this match, but rather sit and watch two superstars they dislike, battle for a championship in the company they love.

“The Prince of Perpetration” approaches the steel steps and kicks them, breaking the top step from the bottom ever so slightly, enough to allow him to lift the stop set and turn to watch the Lionheart Champion stir. Watching, like a predator stalking its prey, Mark waits as Strife starts to get to his feet, using the barricade for aid. Upon reaching a vertical base, the Romanian champion turns to find his foe, only to be flattened by the cold, hard steel of the steps hitting his in the face and chest! Some fans cheer for Mark, but only out of the hatred for Strife, whilst some boo Mark, but only out of their hatred for him. With Strife laying on the floor, Mark throws the steps to one side and turns his attention to the upside down table, having fallen over following the tackle from earlier. After closing over the two legs, “The Fallen First” lifts the table up and slides it into the ring. As if that weren’t enough, he lifts the ring apron and pulls out another perfectly untouched table and slides it into the ring. Once more, Mark looks under the ring, but this time retrieves a steel chair, perfectly legal, despite being a tables match. He then turns to Strife, who’s now on all fours, probably instinctively after being seemingly knocked out cold. Mark pulls the chair up high in the air before driving it down sharply. Not sharply enough however as “The Sinner” springs to life, driving his shoulder into Mark’s gut and forcing him hard, back-first, into the ring apron!

Dropping the chair, the Belfast native may have inadvertently sealed his own fate, allowing Strife to catch the chair before it lands on the floor and immediately impel the top of the chair right into Mark’s stomach! Mark yells out in pain as the edge of the chair tries to penetrate his flesh in the same area that was once occupied by Strife’s big shoulder. Doubled over, Mark is then forced up onto the apron and pushes into the ring slightly. Following his challenger, “The God King” re-enters the ring and runs towards the opposite side of the ring. He rebounds and returns to Mark, but not before leaping into the air and dropping his knee right onto the back of Mark’s head! Lifeless, Mark lays, his forehead in direct contact with the canvas. In a regular match, Strife would immediately go for the pin attempt, but of course, this is completely useless. In order to advance in the tournament, as well as retain his newly-won championship, he needs to put Mark through a table. Fortunately, there are two already in the ring for him to utilise. Grabbing one of the wooden nightmares, Strife moves towards the corner of the ring and leans the table up against it. He fiddles with the legs and the turnbuckles before slapping the front of the table, making sure it’s secure. As he does so, he is forced into the table by the weight of Storey, who lands on top of him after a short run. The two lean into the table, Mark hoping that it will collapse any second now, flailing punches as he does so. Wary of the table’s structural integrity, Strife plants his hip into Mark’s stomach, giving himself just enough room to move as Mark backs off a little. With this room, “Wrath Personified” kicks Mark in the gut and wraps his arm around the back of Mark’s neck! He then fixes his feet square against the mat and pulls upward, although, Mark doesn’t go anywhere! Instead, “The Perpetrator” places his leg directly between Strife’s, blocking the move quite intuitively! Instead, Mark reverses the headlock and lifts Strife up, hooking his legs in the process and delivering a perfect Cradle DDT! His new trademark move, Short Strift!

Lying in place, Mark takes a quick breather before pushing Strife off of him. Mark fumbles for the ropes and pulls himself up as the crowd cheer for the move. The challenger stares out to the crowd as they cheer him. He looks down, mulling the thought of cheering fans over in his head before promptly ‘flipping the bird’ instantly causing them to boo him. He basks in it, shouting obscenities to those in the first few rows, getting into quite a heated exchange. “YOU FAT FUCKER!” the camera picks up as the crowd cheer, not for Mark’s berating of a portly gentleman, but for Strife who makes sure Mark knows they weren't cheering for him with a painful back elbow! Mark arches his back in pain, allowing Strife to hook his arm over the front of Mark’s neck and instantaneously drop to the mat with a Reverse DDT! Wasting little time, Strife gets to his feet and grabs the other table. He walks to the opposite corner from the other table and sets the one in his hands one middle ropes, balancing it on each of the perpendicular ropes, creating a makeshift plane. He runs his hand along it, showing that it is fairly unsteady and unstable. Suddenly his head speeds straight of the table, but he stops it, and Mark’s attempt to smash his face off of the wood, by using his arms. Thwarting Mark’s plans, Strife drives his elbow backwards, catching Mark in the gut, he then grabs one of Mark’s arms and irish whips him to the opposite corner, and the other table! Mark sprints towards the table before frantically stopping himself! He stands, inches away from the table, his arms up, as if he were surrendering to a delinquent holding a knife. He steps backwards and bumps into Strife’s body. “The Barbarian Lord” then hooks underneath Mark’s raised arm with a Half-Nelson and hauls Mark up and over, connecting with a huge Half-Nelson Suplex, dropping Mark right on his head! The crowd cheer for Strife, despite their dislike, happy to see Mark get dropped.

Getting to his feet, Strife stomps on Mark’s back hard before turning to the corner and yanking the table away from its leaning position and throwing it down on top of Mark, causing the British superstar to roll around, trying to escape. Strife doesn’t leave the table there for long as he lifts it up and again pushes it down on top of Mark’s body. Instead of writhing, Mark stays still, beckoning Strife to lift the table up once more, which he does, allowing Mark to roll immediately, narrowly avoiding the next slam. “The God King” looks at Mark, realising he has escaped, and makes a beeline for him. Mark sits up and is welcomed by the sole of Vlad’s foot, booting him back down to the mat. Downed, Mark can’t stop Vladimir as he flips the table over the right way, but completely folded down. He lays it in the middle of the ring before grabbing Mark by his head and the scruff of his neck. He helps Mark to his feet and over towards the table, then spins Mark around so that he faces away from the table. Then, in one swift motion, “The Sinner” performs a Russian Leg Sweep, welting Mark’s back down on the table! The challenger lays almost perfectly on the table as his opponent stands, looking to deny Mark every chance of advancing, whilst also trying to break the curse of the 7-day reign for his Lionheart Championship. Whilst Mark is down, Vlad runs parallel to Mark, rebounding off of the ropes and then leaping up and over Mark’s body, crashing down with a huge body-length legdrop, driving his heel right into Mark’s groin as he lands! An all-legal Mother Fucker Legdrop! “The Dexterous Deviator” grabs his nut-sack in pain, his eyes widened and the colour from his face lost, but somehow still in this match as the table did not break. One would imagine he is relieved, but his expression shows otherwise.

Punching the mat before he arises, Vlad starts to show his frustration. He approaches Mark once again and drags him to his feet. He then continues to drag Makr towards the balanced table, but Mark counters out of it and kicks Vlad in the gut. “The Initiator of Ingenuity” then grabs Vlad’s hand and pulls him in for a short-arm clothesline! Instead of knocking Vlad’s head clean off, Mark strikes the air as Vlad ducks underneath his arm. The two men stop and turn around to face each other and in a split second Vladimir cocks back his arm and pulls the metaphorical trigger, punching Mark right in the face with a closed-first punch! Lights Out! The illegal in a regular singles bout finisher knocks Mark for six, stumbling backwards into the balanced table! With Mark in a prime position following the devastating finisher, Vlad grabs Mark around his hips and heaves him up into a seat position on the table. The make-shift platform wobbles as Mark is set there, but Mark involuntarily follows the orders of his superior, in this case the champion. Using the ropes as an aid, Vlad climbs up and stands on the table. With very little real estate, and an incredibly wobbly surface, Vlad bends over and pulls Mark up and to his feet, so that both men are now standing on the table. Despite not standing of his free will, Mark starts to fight back, the two superstars just seconds away from losing their footing. They exchange blows, but a jab to the side of the stomach from Mark, causes Vladimir to fall slightly, ending up in a seated position on the top turnbuckle. “The Dejected Devil” tries his best not to topple as he punches Vlad’s temple. Over and over again, Mark strikes the forehead before finally applying a headlock.

After a brief pause, Mark pulls Vlad up to a stance. With the table seconds from slipping away from underneath them, Storey hauls Vladimir up into the air. About one second in, Mark steps back and falls off the table, as he falls he pulls a sharp turn, narrowly missing the table with his own back, and drives Vlad’s head directly onto the table! BRAINBUSTAAHHH~! The tables smashes in two as the referee signals for the bell. In the wreckage Mark lets go of his foe and collapses to the mat. He lands awkwardly as Vladimir lands in a heap of broken wood, landing on his head, neck and back after the dangerous manoeuvre. The referee grabs Mark’s hand and holds it up, before grabbing the XWA Lionheart Championship. With a look of desperation and shock on his face, Mark perplexedly takes the wood-plated championship as the crowd boo and Laura Watts proclaims him as the victor.

Laura Watts: “Here is your winner and NEEWWW XWA LIONHEART CHAMPION!! MARRRKK STORREEYYYY!”

Mark looks back at the wreckage and the referee checking on Vladimir, as if he doesn’t believe that the move worked, that or Vlad’s punch really knocked his lights out. He slowly rolls under the bottom rope, and falls to the floor, prompting the ring crew to tend to him, whilst others try to remove the table pieces from the ring. He may have won the championship, and may be advancing in the tournament, but it was by luck and has come at a cost for both superstars.