6CWF Presents "Road to Royalty" - Wednesday 9th October 2024 (Episode 42)

Live from the Ziggo Dome, Amsterdam, The Netherlands
Start time : 6pm
Official theme songs: "All of the lights" by Rihanna/Kanye West

Bout 1
Angus Plague/Daniel Reilly vs Dicey Reilly/GazzyD

Road to Royalty Competitors:
Acer
Chris Patricks
Geoff Steel
Logan Kincade
Mike Masters
Perfect Jack
Scott Harris
Uryu Ishida

1st Round
Logan Kincade vs Uryu Ishida
Geoff Steel vs Mike Masters
Chris Patricks vs Perfect Jack
Acer vs Scott Harris

Semi-Finals
??? vs ???
??? vs ???

Final
??? vs ???

Main Event
6CWF Tag Team Championships
Genesis (c) vs The Brothers of Seduction

Chris Patricks walks into the hotel bar in the Hilton near the Ziggo Dome, Amsterdam. He sits at the bar and orders a lite beers. He just takes his first sip and hears a familiar voice behind him.

???: A lit beer why am I not surprised. How’s things Plastic Paddy

Chris turns to see a smiling Dicey just about to take the seat next to him.

Chris: I didn’t ask for you to join me

Dicey orders a whiskey and gingerly sits next to Chris with his leg stretched out

Dicey: I wasn’t asking

Dicey necks the whiskey and orders another

Dicey: I don’t see a line of people wanting to sit next to you these days so I thought I’d see how you are doing

Chris scoffs in a dismissive manner

Chris: I haven’t got time for your old wise man act Dice, I have a lot on my mind at the minute

Dicey necks his whiskey again and orders another

Dicey: Don’t we all lad, so what’s eating you up other than the pillow sniffer stipping you on your Born in Fire, Main Event

Chris takes a deep drink and faces Dicey

Chris: Isn’t that enough? I have given my all these past months and for what? To be forgotten, to be a filler, to be nothing to nobody that matters? How do you do it Dice, how do you go out there every week and put yourself through all that (Chris motions to Diceys knee) and get nothing in return? They took your belt and played off your injury like it was nothing but you still turn up with a smile and a twinkle in your eye…..how do you take it all?

Dicey looks at his whiskey, drains it and looks at Chris’ tortured face

Dicey: Because I don’t do it for them or anyone. The fans are great and all but if I dropped dead tomorrow they would cheer for someone else in no time. There was a time I did it for someone…for Sally but you can’t rely one people only yourself. I have been at the top of this business and the very bottom, I have fought everyone and anyone but the hardest person to fight is yourself.

You have a good family behind you Chris, a wife and kids that adore you. You can do it all for them but they will never understand what this business is like. You came back to help a friend, even if it was Max Adamson. He’s F**ked off and left you in the sh*t, all done up and nowhere to go. It’s all up to you now lad, you can walk around like a jilted prom date or you can just say f**k it and do what needs to be done to get what you want. Just stop walking around like a moany little bit*h.

Dicey swings off the chair and rubs his knee and puts his hand on Chris’ shoulder

Dicey: F**k Max, F**k Genesis, F**k Uryu but I really think you need to f**k that wife of yours soon, just to take the edge off

Dicey limps off laughing leaving Chris smiling to himself. He takes the phone out of his pocket and dials a number

Chris: Hey sweetheart….how about a few days in Amsterdam…..I’ll book your tickets

[Fade in.. the camera pulls back until the shot comes into frame; a dark blue backdrop with Angus Plague standing center screen. Dressed in a pair of black combat boots, black cutoff jean shorts and a black hoodie with a band name in an unreadable font. His head hangs, his long black hair covering his face. He begins to chuckle quietly.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  Bear witness as I come to crush the dreams of lesser men. Steady your nerves as the incoming storm builds to a fever pitch.. what you've seen so far is only a fraction of the horrors I plan to unleash on this place..

[He throws his head back clearing his face, revealing the pure malice in his eyes.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  I AM THE MONSTER THAT CREEPS IN THE NIGHT! !

[He lets out a breathy laugh, then cuts it short.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  In the little time I've been here I've laid waste to any who dare be brave enough to step in my path. There are those who question my motives and wonder about the alliances I've built... all will be revealed in due time..

[He takes his hands from his hoodie pocket and begins to wring them.]

ANGUS PLAGUE: And come Road to Royalty, Dicey and Gazzy will be faced with a monumental task, an impossible one. They could never imagine the things we're planning to do to them.. the pain we plan to cause..

[He breaks into a shrill bark.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  .. THE SUFFERING THEY SHALL ENDURE! ! .. oh no, they could never fathom the depths we will go to ensure the outcome we desire. I give you fair warning now; your end is imminent and it will not be over quickly.

[He runs his hands through his hair, pulling it back tightly before letting it fall.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  They say the Revolution will not be televised.. but it will. The Revolution will be the iron glove that grasps at the throats of those who dare wish to oppose us..

[A throaty laugh escapes him before he stops dead, his chest rising and falling, his breathing clearly audible.]

ANGUS PLAGUE:  THE REVOLUTION CANNOT BE STOPPED! !

[His dead eyes pierce the camera, a slow smile forming at the corners of his mouth. He breaks into a maniacal laughter as the camera slowly pulls back before fading to black. End transmission.]

Acer sits in a dimly lit changing room, unwrapping his hands slowly after an intense heavy bag session. His eyes are dark, his face set in stone, but beneath the surface, there’s a storm brewing. The weight of rage, betrayal, and frustration clings to him like the sweat on his skin. He pulls off the last wrap from his fist, leans forward, and with a growl, tosses it aside.

For a moment, there’s silence—only the sound of his breathing fills the room. Then, without looking at the camera, he speaks, his voice low, simmering with emotion.

“You know, I made a mistake tonight. I logged into social media. Stupid, right? Scrolling through the endless opinions, seeing the keyboard warriors take their shots. And what did I find? Character assassination after character assassination.”

His head lifts now, eyes sharp, like a predator locked onto its prey.

“‘Oh my God, Acer interfered in JJ’s match!’ ‘How could he do that?’ Where was this outrage, huh? Where was this outcry when JJ interfered in my match and robbed me of my victory over The Saint? Where was the anger then? Where were the tweets then? Or is it only a crime when Acer decides to take control of his own destiny?”

He stands up, cracking his neck, his body taut with barely contained energy.

“And speaking of Saint… I told you I didn’t want to fight. I didn’t. But when we did, I came at you with the dial turned way down. And guess what? Even with me holding back, I kicked your arse so hard your little friend had to come and bail you out. Pray, Saint—pray—that we don’t do this again, because next time, there won’t be any mercy. Next time, I won’t turn down the dial. And when that happens… there’s not going to be anyone to save you. Not JJ, not Brandi, not the Lord above.”

The intensity in his eyes flares for a moment, but he catches himself, pulling back, letting his voice drop into a cold, controlled calm.

“But back to the cesspit that is social media. I keep seeing the same question over and over—‘why?’ Not why I cost JJ at Beachfront Brawl… no, I’m not ready to give that away yet. The question that keeps swirling around is, ‘Why did Acer cost JJ the 6CW Championship?’”

He smirks, shaking his head slightly.

“You all really want to know? You think you deserve answers after the way you’ve spun this narrative? Fine, I’ll tell you. But understand this—it’s not about giving you what you want. It’s about making sure the truth, my truth, gets heard. No more lies. No more spin. Just the cold, hard reality you’ve all been ignoring.”

Acer’s eyes darken as he steps closer to the camera, his voice taking on an edge of bitterness.

“Reason number one? Eye-for-an-eye. It’s simple. You all saw it—my match against Saint. Last Man Standing, I’m moments away from one of the biggest wins of my career, and who shows up? JJ, pyro and all. Not only did I not get the opportunity to finish the match, he had the nerve to have me thrown out of the building like I was some common criminal. Me! The man whose victory was stolen, and I’m the one who gets punished. So yeah, I took my shot at Beachfront Brawl. He screwed me, I screwed him. It’s that simple.”

Acer’s voice softens, but not with kindness—there’s pain buried deep beneath the words, a wound that refuses to heal.

“But you know what really gets me? JJ runs out to save Saint, but where was he when I needed saving? When Clarke James was tearing my eye out of my skull, when my career, my life, was hanging by a thread… did I get a hero running down the ramp to save me? Did JJ care then?”

A cold laugh escapes him as he shakes his head, disgusted.

“And reason number two? Corruption. And no, I’m not talking about whatever lies you’re all spinning about me like I’m some twisted Gollum crawling around the arena. I’m talking about the real corruption. The strings that get pulled backstage, silently, making sure the ‘chosen few’ get what they want. Monday night was a perfect example. Every stipulation designed to tear people apart, but oh—Scott Harris, the 6CWF Golden Boy, gets a submission match, his speciality. And then the Championship match? ‘Randomly’ selected challenger? Oh, surprise, surprise—it’s the owner of the company. While the rest of us are out here clawing, scratching, bleeding for a shot, JJ was about to waltz to the front of the queue for a title he did not deserve. Did you all seriously think I was going to let that happen?”

Acer steps back, running a hand through his hair, his voice lowering but losing none of its power.

“There it is. The truth. So, yeah, I cost JJ the 6CW Championship. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

He leans down, picking something out of his bag. The camera catches a brief glimpse of rough, hessian fabric—the same fabric seen the week before. He begins swirling it slowly around his finger just out of sight of the camera, his gaze turning icy as he looks into the camera.

“Which brings me to next week. Scott Harris. The company’s golden boy with his little catchphrase, the man who’s been spoon-fed opportunity after opportunity and has done nothing with them. Twice, Harris, you’ve failed to win the EWF Championship. At Beachfront Brawl, you tapped out, and yet here you are, getting title shots while I—the one who didn’t get pinned or submitted—get nothing.”

Acer’s voice takes on a sinister edge as he stares into the camera, his fingers still toying with the hessian.

“You claim you break bones, Scott, but the only thing you’ve broken in your entire career is your face. And trust me—I’ll break it again next week. I’ve become quite the expert on masks recently, and after I’m done smashing yours into pieces, I’ll happily send you some contacts who’ll do you a sweet deal on repairs.”

The camera zooms in on Acer’s cold, unblinking stare as he steps forward, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.

“Next week, you stand in my way again. Next week, your face gets bashed in… again.”

The camera lingers on Acer’s icy glare as the screen fades to black.

We are backstage and Oliver Keane stands in front of the camera, suited up.

OK: Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you, the EWF Champion, Daniel Reilly!

Boos can be heard from the fans as Daniel Reilly walks into shot and stands beside Keane. He has the EWF Championship hung over his shoulder and is wearing a black 'Revolution' t-shirt.

DR: If you would all indulge the King for just a few moments, the King has some things he needs to get off his chest!

Well last week was something wasn't it? This so called punishment for the King turned into nothing more then further proof of what this Company is going to lose when the King walks out them doors in just one months time! Daniel Reilly showed exactly why he stands before you as a World Champion when he took on and defeated some of the biggest names this business has to offer! But better then that, good old Geoffrey got proved to be the liar that he is once more when for the fifth time in a row, he fell to the feet of the King in another feeble attempt to try and prise the King's gold from him! Maybe that is the lesson you needed to learn to stay in your lane and finally understand that you will be nothing more then Xtreme, Geoff!

Reilly smiles to himself before once again looking up at the camera.

DR: But last week was bigger then the King successfully retaining his EWF Championship! Last week saw the rebirth of the greatest group this Company has ever produced. Forget your Genesis's, forget your Authority, forget your Dominion, last week a Revolution was started once again as the King reunited with your European Champion, Perfect Jack! But the King and Perfect Jack are not alone. You see, not only does Oliver Keane stand alongside the King and Perfect Jack but the impressive monster of destruction, Angus Plague, stands side by side as the newest member of this great and historic group as Revolution prepares to take over this entire business!

You see, this is not just a group of men thrown together for the fun of it. Daniel Reilly and Oliver Keane have proved in the last two years what they are capable of doing as the King has not only broken the record for the longest European Championship reign of all time, but captured a third World Championship. Then you add to that the King's old protegee, a former World Champion, the current European Champion and the man who pushed Dicey Reilly beyond his limits, a man who has destroyed every man put in front of him these last few months in Perfect Jack. And then finally, you sprinkle in a monster, a man who in just two matches has proved that he may just be the future of this business, a man who you look at and wonder how the hell you are going to stop such a force. You add Angus Plague and you get a Revolution stronger then there has ever been before!

Dicey, you should of stayed retired, you think having GazzyD by your side will help you? A man who is haunted by men in cloaks? That is your great back up? Although you do have good old Geoff Steel! The man who has fell to the King at every hurdle, a man who talks a very big game but just can't walk that same line when the action begins.

Dicey, Gazzy, the Revolution has begun once again and the King can not wait for you both to personally witness it!