DUE: Friday, March 28th at 11:59 PM EDT

At the conclusion of our last contest, the capacity crowd at the IZOD Center in New Jersey is going wild, XWA has brought it's A game this evening and an amazing card filled with dangerous and deeply interesting matches await the audience. We circle the arena as the cage is raised focusing on one or two crowd signs that get a few cheers. We circle round to the commentary booth to see Joey's eyes essentially popping out of his skull after the last match and Ted almost speechless before turning to his co-commentator and giggling slightly as he begins to speak,

Ted Cedar: "well Joe, that was a hellacious Lingerie cage match... for the life of me i can't figure out who won, either one of the ladies in the ring or the fans..."

Joey Miles: "You crack me up Cedar, both of these beautiful dames in the ring inside a cage scrapping to strip eachother to their negligables? You'd usually pay top dollar to see that action drowning in a sea of self pity and flop sweat, but here at XWA Chain Reaction... it's all part of the territory."

"Plus, because it's sports entertainment... There's no sense of shame to go with it! Anyway, our next contest sees our Hardcore champion defending his title against a duo of challengers, Riley Williamson defends his belt against the returning Shade and Jared Jerusalem... This has a lot of history to it Miles, Shade was retired by Williamson many months prior to this match in a career vs title match. But like Mrs Foley's baby boy, you can knock Shade down, but you can't kill him."

"PLEASE PARDON THE INTERRUPTION....
EXCUSE ME....
give me that goddamned headset Miles and shut your damned mouth before i shut it for you!"

Dylan Breywell appears from behind the commentary position with a large briefcase, suited and uncharacteristically booted. Looking particularly flashy by all accounts. His initial outbursts are heard barely and almost inaudibly as he clambers over the barricade. He snatches the headset off of Joey's head and places it on his, positioning the mic to his mouth, he pulls at the cord and yanks the radio transmitter from Joey's pants, moves a few dials and places it in his top pocket.

Looking straight into the camera.

"I've just set this mic to an unjammable frequency, this will be aired and there isn't a damn thing you can do to shut me up shy of throwing me out of the building."

Breywell circles around the desk and pushes his briefcase under the bottom rope, he climbs up the stairs and acknowledges certain sections of the crowd who appreciate his presence and endorse his push towards getting sports entertainment taken seriously.

"Thank you, each and every one of you, for your lukewarm reception. For those who aren't aware, my name is Dylan Breywell... I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't know who i was because I've been tucked away and bogged down in legal documentation barring me from appearing at Vendetta's for weeks now.

But to those of you who do recognize me, I thank you. I'm glad that you do, you'd have to be a Dylan Breywell fan in order to recognize me because XWA don't air a single one of my promo tapes nor do they sell any of my merchandise at any of the concession stands in any of the buildings we visit. So allow me to give those who don't know, a little history lesson.

Some time ago, there was a Superstar, a hall of Famer, named Xtreme Icon, and he was a measuring stick in XWA, someone to whom all newcomers had to meet up to in order to be taken seriously.

5 weeks ago, at a show called CyberSlam, I nearly left Xtreme Icon a paraplegic mess, practically confined to an automated wheelchair for the rest of his natural life. Never in one instance had one man taken such a pounding from another man during a sanctioned match.

The next night, i explained my Actions. Legitimacy is something considerably lacking in XWA, no one would ever believe that a man like Xtreme Icon could beat me, i'm a freak of nature, an unhinged psychopath hellbent on causing pain and suffering to everyone i come across, including myself...

I Am Dylan Breywell

Breywell Means change

Breywell means Progress

Breywell is Legitimacy

and for my actions, i was suspended... But my focus had changed, diverted of course to this man..."

Breywell reaches down and opens his briefcase, he pulls out a life sized cardboard cut out of Riley Williamson and unfolds it, placing it next to him.

"Now you'll all recognize this man, he's been pushed down our throats for weeks now, he's the Hardcore Champion, he's in the next match. He is Riley Williamson."

Breywell simply stands looking at the the cardboard standee and becomes fixated on the item.

"This is a man who would have you believe that he has no threshold for pain, a hardcore champion, a man who can take a licking and keep on ticking... that's the idea right?

Well i offered myself on a silver platter, anytime, anywhere, if Riley wants to see how he stands up against someone who has a legitimate claim to being Hardcore, he knows where to find me...

And yet here we are, in the cesspool of America's seedy underbelly, New Jersey... or 'Joisey' as that horrific Shore programme would have you believe, at Chain Reaction. Y'see it's crazy because I thought my actions would set off a chain reaction in Riley, he would want to stand up for the hall of famer that i hospitalized, i thought he'd want to meet me face to face and stand up and say 'I am' but he's had 4 weeks now, 4 long weeks to even acknowledge my existence, and he nor XWA officials will even give me the time of day, i'm not even on this card, so this was a hijacking... and if i'm perfectly honest, y'all can have the show back, because i don't want it anymore..."

Dylan looks Riley's visage up and down once more, and opens his mouth one last time

"I swore to myself that at Chain Reaction 2014 i would tear Riley Williamson's head from his shoulders as my first official act back from suspension. And since our Hardcore Champion is too much of a coward to even face me in the ring during this hijacking, I will be damned if i let myself, my fans, and anyone else who believes in the future of Professional Wrestling down by letting him tarnish the legitimacy of my claims.

Believe in Change

Believe in Legitimacy

Believe in Breywell

Believe.... IN ME!"

Suddenly Breywell lunges at the cardboard cut-out and begins tearing it apart in front of the camera, rolling around on the floor with it like a crocodile trying to tear chunks out of an antelope. He finally takes the top half of the cut-out having already torn it's arms and bottom half away and leaving just Riley's smiling, grinning face and it's shoulders in place, Breywell slowly and methodically tears; from left to right, Riley's head from his shoulders in a sinister motion, allowing his sneering face to be shown behind his actions.

Breywell tosses the pieces all around the ring and hurls the briefcase out into the crowd before turning his attention to the ring itself, tearing the corner pads off and hurling them into the crowd, loosening the ring ropes and dismantling the ring on his own. Security belatedly enter the fray and chase Breywell away from the ring back into and through the crowd, out of the building.

"don't you dare say it Ted..."