As the match begins, Garrison and Sharpe lock-up, oblivious to the sudden surge in the audience’s shouts as none other than BARTHOLOMEW “BRAWLER” BECKETT races down the aisle and slides into the ring. Sharpe is battered from behind by Beckett’s vicious double axehandle strike, and goes down as a bewildered Garrison looks on. He tries to shout at Beckett, but is met with an elbow from the Brummie Brawler and is knocked back against the ropes. Beckett then charges and clothesline’s him over the top rope and out of the ring! As Sharpe gets up, Beckett grabs him by the hair and flings him through the ropes to the concrete floor! Beckett slides out of the ring and grabs a mic, then rolls back into the ring and addresses the fans.

BECKETT: “Once again, I have been eliminated from a competition that I should have been allowed to justly and fairly compete in! Last time, a masked thug was sent after me! now, some outsider – A ******* RINGSIDE ANNOUNCER – has been sicked on me like an assassin, an attack dog! Once more, Damion Black has shown that he has a target on certain of us competitors, myself in this case! Once more, I am denied, by foul means, my rightful place as recognized champion!

“I know you people don’t care for me, and that’s fine; I don’t give a fig for any of you, but I’ll be damned if I am going to stand by and let my reputation be pissed upon by a prejudiced, nepotistic, politicking has-been! I want anyone – ANYONE – from the locker room, right NOW!”

“Fluke” blares through the arena speakers and Derrik Arzon steps onto the ramp from the back, mic in hand and starts walking towards the ring. Beckett looks incredulous, trying to suppress a laugh.

BECKETT: “Now, wait just a minute, boy. Wait right there. I want a real competitor, not a lacky. Go back there and shine the Snakes’ skin boots or something. You’ve got no business in my ring!”

ARZON: “Beckett, you just called for anyone to come out and here I am! But I’m not just anybody! I’m no lackey and I’m no stepping stone! I am ‘Lightning’ Derrik Arzon! Beckett, you obnoxious, slimy limey, you’re about to face the storm of the century!”

BECKETT: *a brief look of incredulous disbelief gives way to a pompous smile* “Well, so much for kindness. You once had a lot of potential, son. I did not want to be the one to give complete halt to the career of a youngster like you, but if you’ve already made your choice, then by all means, come on in and end your career!”

*With that, Beckett chucks the mic away and awaits Arzon, rubbing his hands gleefully.*

***As the referee rings the bell over and over again, Nakamura stomps around the ring and swings his steel chair around in circular motions above his head. He glares at the crowd and screams something unintelligible at the referee. In one corner of the ring, Derrick Arzon has managed to drag himself to his knees. With his hands on the ropes, he ties in vain to get to his feet. In an instant, Brawler Beckett is on him, raining fists and feet down on his head. Arzon stumbles backward into the turnbuckle and covers up his head with his forearms, trying to absorb the blows and regain his bearings. After a few stiff shots to Arzon’s exposed ribs, Beckett steps back to admire his handiwork. He smirks and puts his arms out, daring the dazed Arzon to attack him.***

BLOOMFIELD: “This is just revolting folks. Did the Union ever even intend to let this match play out? That’s twice now in as many weeks that this despicable alliance has savagely attacked one of their opponents after the bell! What are these lowlifes trying to prove?”

***Arzon shakes his head and glares angrily at Beckett. He balls his hands into fists and rushes Beckett… only to be leveled by another unexpected steel chair shot to the head by Nakamura.***

***Beckett laughs at the fallen Arzon and gestures mockingly to the crowd. The fans in the PWA Arena boo the the Union members and begin showering the ring with garbage. Beckett just smiles and drags Arzon to his feet. He slaps the young grappler across the face and begins bad mouthing him off-mic. Grabbing Arzon by the hair, Beckett runs him across the ring and hurls him over the top rope, sending him crashing hard to the floor.***

BLOOMFIELD: “We need to get some help out here. Somebody has to stop these maniacs before they end somebody’s career! Ladies and gentlemen… security has been called, and we’re going to take a break as they try to regain some semblance of control here. We will have more PWA Assault for you after these messages.”