[Dean Johnson] vs Better Than You

[Neo-Blade8]

...Rosario pulled Better Than You's hand off of the rope quickly and quietly as the referee was using his laser sharp focus on the shoulders of the Canadian. Rosario had been watching carefully, especially with how close they were to him, and with all of the noise, interference, and water encompassing the arena he had a feeling this was his chance to get away with it.

"...3!"

Rosario gotten away with it, the clueless referee had no idea as he shot up quickly and signaled for the bell to ring. It was time for him to leave.He did not get paid enough for this and in his opinion he stuck the match through. The crowd started to roar as everyone had saw what just occurred, except for the oblivious non machinated referee. Were they happy that Better Than You lost? Were they mad that the Canadian put so much heart into it and in the end got screwed out of it by the rookie and his mentor? Did they even care about any of the contestants and just saw this as another opportunity to continue the excitement.

"...Fight Forever!...Fight Forever!..."


Dean rolled off of the man he just defeated. He was hurt, bloody, wet, and most of all exhausted. He pulled off the victory he promised, and was able to continue his undefeated streak, but he needed a break...

"...Fight Forever!...Fight Forever!..."


...But he wasn't getting it. The fans we're finally overwhelming the mass amounts of security that were in the stands and were starting to easily make it over the barricade. The Smelly Jets fans and the Super Yanked out Giants fans were some of the first to make it over as they both gunned for Rosario. Rosario had been in a lot of situations where he knew he needed to run, this was one of them. He bolted into the ring, rushing to Dean to try and protect him if anything came his way.

The ring announcer began to speak

"And your winner...weighing...Hey! Get away from there! Everyone back to your seats immediately! This is a warn..."
 

[HiroShinMozas]

WRESTLING HAS...MORE THAN ONE, ROYAL FAMILY...

The fans, just as physical violence was for sure about to play out in everyway imaginable, were suddenly stopped dead in their tracks as the lights in the arena went out and the recognizable voice of one Cody "Son of a Son of a Plumber" Rhodes whispered out a truth they had perhaps forgotten. Wrestling had more than one royal family, just as the NFL had more than one fanbase. The Giants and Jets fan which had converged into one area called a truce in the dark, and the fans were sent into a frenzy as they were soaked in a trio of red, white, and blue lights.

Adrenaline in my soul
Every fight out of control
Do it all to get them off their feet
Crowd is here, about to blow
Waitin' for me to start the show
Out the curtain, lights go up
I'm home (whoa)
My father said
"When I was younger
Hard times breed better men"
(Better men)
You took it all away, I give it all away
Can't take my freedom
Here to change the game, a banner made of pain
I built my kingdom
Now you bow to me
You took my dreams but not my name
You'll follow me until the end
I am my kingdom

There must have been some sort of DRAGON living under the stage as smoke bellowed out and a hole opened up directly below the titantron. Slowly, but with enough mystical aura to just absolutely hypnotize everyone and stopped them from creating anymore chaos, a figure's silhouette appeared from the haze. The platform reached it's destination, and with baited breathe the arena remained silent. Downstait's "Kingdom" slammed it's way through the speakers, and this new challenger to the riot was finally in view of all.

Nicky Delabonte Jr., dressed magnificently from head to toe in complete Homelander cosplay, and it was perfect...perfect. He was representing wrestling's true royal family here tonight. A family of network executives. A family of CEOs. A family of the every-man. A family...of Marauders. The young geriatric makes his way down the ramp but stops, posing for pyro that never comes thanks to the water damage from the prior firey shenanigans. Thankfully the speakers still worked and fake pyro noise was pumped out alongside strobe lighting that simulated small explosions. The song continued as he easily walked past several people, the stunned fans not knowing how to react at this point. This was just the distraction that security needed as they started to corral people back behind the barricade. Nicky reaches the ring as hard times continued to breed better men, stronger men, rich men. He got up on the ropes in a corner and di his little pose, the pyro still not responding, but this time instead of smoke and mirrors...there were several SWAT team members making their way down the ramp and to ringside, beating fans with clubs and smashing them with golden riot shields. The fans screamed in horror as they were so easily subdued, one being rammed through the barricade and shattering it.

Better Than You. was down at the ropes still, Nicky above him doing his pose. This was just continuing to get crazy, marking yet another asinine night for BTY. in the WWF:G. For the first time in the accidental perfectionist's life, he had to ask himself...why? Why the hell do I continue to work in this industry when dumb s**t like this could happen -- lord knows he would be successful as a body builder, could probably use his s**t attitude to dominate the internet as an influencer that people love to be insulted by. These fans were insane, the workers were dangerous, and the refs were fleshy and filled with blood. He started to roll out of the ring, slamming down on the ground, and with no one to help him he stayed laying there as the commotion around him grew louder. Here's hoping a SWAT guy wouldn't hit him, too.

Nicky Delabonte Jr. kicked some glass and debris out under the ropes as he entered the ring, some of it spilling out over and onto BTY.'s downed body. A member of the SWAT team, who looked oddly like MMI associate "Screwdriver" Jerry McGwire, handed the Marauder a microphone, and he called for his music to be cut, on cue it closing out.

"Wow uh...hey, jeez, I...wow. I just, wow guys. I really don't know what to say. This is just...wow. Such a mess. I know I haven't been here in the WWF for a while, but like...wow. To see it like this, it breaks my heart, and I think we all know who to blame."

Two identically sized SWAT team members get in the face of the ORIGINAL unruly Jets fan, and seemingly hand him some sort of envelope while laughing in unison. They playfully shove him away and into the mass of fans being escorted out. Another SWAT team member, this one incredibly larger than the others and clearly of African decent, slides an envelope into the ring, it being picked up by Nicky as he stepped forward towards Dean and Rosario.

"I think it was that referee. I think he's crooked, and I gotta be honest with everyone here...I saw him place a bet on Dean Johnson to win this match. I mean that, I swear it, and as a matter of fact I have his winnings right here in this envelope. I stepped in and made sure that this...CRIMINAL...wasn't going to get satisfaction out of fixing this great sport of ours. So Dean, I wanna give you this money for the inconvenience. It's really a shame this played out, you're such a star -- and I trust you and your mentor here will go have some words with that ref in the parking lot as soon as possible."

Nicky handed the envelope to the Airplane, quickly turning his attention away from the two he shared the ring with to address the hard-cam, perhaps specifically as a sign to someone at the network.

"There's a real problem here at WWF:G. There's lower ratings, there's riots brewing constantly, and there's HUGE money being lost with every second that ticks by with the current cancer latched on to it. I'm not talking about Cartwright, of course not. I'm not talking about Better Than Whatever over there on the ground. I'm not even talking about the Maverick Jet. I'm...well, I'm talking about people like the official in the match you just watched! The refs, they're the real problem around here! You don't hate that young Canadian, and you don't hate WWF:G! You hate the REF!"

As the arena was emptied out to begin a forced hour long intermission prior to the true main event of GBL vs DJ Killa Kyle, Nicky passionately pointed to the titantron which now displayed in huge white letters "#BLAMETHEREFS". Then, Cartwright's personal cell phone number flashed on screen several times beneath the hashtag, along with words imploring people to call him and voice their concerns about modern day officiating in the WWF:G. After a few moments, it cycled over to show the address of the previous match's ref, alongside the names of his children, their school, their schedule, and his a photo of his wife and another man that was clearly not the ref.

"IT'S TIME WE DEMAND THAT WRESTLING GET THE SAME LOVE AND RESPECT THAT WE GIVE IT! TELL CARTWRIGHT YOU'VE HAD ENOUGH, AND YOU ONLY WANT AUTOMATIC ELECTRONIC REFEREES FROM NOW ON! WE'RE GONNA TAKE BACK WHATS OURS! NO MORE CORRUPTION, NO MORE MISTAKES, AND NO...MORE...BS!!!!!!!!"

Nicky's impassioned plea fell on a dead crowd, mostly because everyone was now out on the concourse as the arena had to be cleaned and reorganized so the show could go on.