Weathering The Storm

by AttitudeEraChick

Meet Shannon Storm, an original character determined to be WWE bound. Beginning at the end of 2015, you'll witness former gimmicks, ventures wrestling on the independent scene, friendship, arrival on NXT, romance and more. Strongly motivated by the release of a popular star from the roster, will Shannon weather the storm? Past and present stars will appear. Written out of kayfabe.

38. Chapter Thirty Eight: Next In Line

Author's Notes for June 5th, 2017:

I attended the Extreme Rules Pay-Per-View last night, which prompted me to publish the next chapter. Shout out to Beagle Brother for giving me something special to use in the update. You should know what it is. If you forgot, PM me, and I'll remind you.

Well I was wrong about #AdamColeBayBay appearing at #NXTChicago. However, it was quite cool seeing the NXT staff take a page from my book not only with Ciampa's turn, but doing it at the end of the show like I chose to do in this story weeks ago. Hats off to everyone involved piecing together the angle. Well done.

We have yet another in #WrestlingHeaven at just six months into the year. Rest in peace to "Pretty Boy" Doug Somers who passed away on May 16th at the age of 65. Somers for some time was a part of a tag-team with a wrestler by the name of "Playboy" Buddy Rose. The two men had some solid matches with the Midnight Rockers (Shawn Michaels and Marty Janetty) in the AWA in the 1980s. Some of the classic bouts-including bloodbaths-with "Playboy" and "Pretty boy" helped put Shawn and Marty on the map, and gain attention from other promoters. Other than hearing about Somers suing the WWE some time ago over a dispute concerning royalties for footage of AWA matches he was featured in, I don't believe Doug Somers made any significant news in the wrestling world since retiring from the ring itself (aside from sporadic appearances at independent shows working as a valet or commentator).

Special note (A repost from an updated Author's Note posted at the conclusion of Chapter One on May 25th, 2017):

It has been brought to my attention that events in the surrounding AU of the Broken Arrow story have been intentionally and suddenly changed by its author. It is in this world where WTS serves as a prequel into the introduction of Shannon Storm, who makes her way into the Broken Arrow story. The author has done so due to a long falling out about their deliberate refusal to retain commitments (and give proper acknowledgement to contributors, including myself and others) of actual written plot ideas, scenes, and chapters, set in stone and agreed upon well over two years ago. As a result, what you folks are reading in Weathering The Storm remain true to the original intended creative as it pertains to core events regarding Shannon's foil, Ronda Rousey. Anyone reading WTS prior to the Spring of 2017 has had the opportunity to see the world as originally landscaped if they checked out Broken Arrow back then.

Unfortunately, for those of you who are new to WTS, and are referring to actual Broken Arrow chapters currently as we speak, (reading it and WTS simultaneously), the author's backhanded tactics of altering and reversing history may seem both confusing, and classless. I wouldn't disagree with you. I however, do not intend to plan literary whack-a-mole with this project.

Rather than revising stories and profiles to satisfy a bruised ego like a former collaborator of mine has done, I will continue to take the higher road. I will complete WTS (and it's sequel) as intended from certain core events outlined and finalized in 2015. No need to worry about me disguising doing substantial edits as adhering to a new, polished, standard of grammar and punctuation, when what I really am doing is deceptively changing PLOT and/or CONTENT. If that's what I was actually doing, I would just come out and say so; rather than conveniently update my profile again and remove the acknowledgement of what I just did once I completed my true objective. The author of Broken Arrow is aware I assisted with grammar and punctuation errors for them before they uploaded chapters of that story; in fact, it was per their request for me to proofread. "Beta" was the name they referred to me as on those tasks. And that's IN ADDITION to the literal content I contributed. So I know for a fact that was merely an excuse for them to return to the story and make changes out of spite. And unsurprisingly, I was proven correct.

For those of you who have enjoyed, and continue to enjoy WTS, I thank you for dropping by for as long and as often as you have. I welcome you to remain on the ride. For those who would rather depart, that too, is your choice. Either way, WTS will march on.

---

October 16th, 2017

Calgary, Alberta, Canada

10:18 AM

Tyler caught a flight through United Airlines at 1:25 AM in route to Toronto, Ontario. He finished his live event in St. Louis three hours prior at 10:30 PM the night before, but his flight to Canada wasn't for a few hours. The other flight options were four hour durations or better for his arrival because of split time stopping between cities. Tyler was opposed to that, and wanted to get in Toronto the quickest way possible; so he could get some hours of rest, even if just a little.

Therefore, while at the Lambert-St. Louis International Airport, Tyler caught a non-stop flight with United Airlines to the Lester B. Pearson Airport. This flight would land in Toronto in two hours and ten minutes. He had plans for the entire day with Shannon. So there wasn't much he wanted to do at 3:35 AM when he arrived, other than sleep. And that's what Tyler did.

"Where are we going?" asked Shannon, who had been in the rental car with Tyler driving through the city for about ten or fifteen minutes.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?" Tyler asked sarcastically, before taking his eye off the road for a quick second to smile at Shannon's pouting.

Apparently, pouting didn't work. Shannon didn't get an answer to the destination. So she tried something else.

"Probably to a hockey game," she mumbled. "Hockey is to Canadians what burgers are to Americans during summer barbeques."

Crickets. He continued to drive.

"What?" Shannon asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. "Was that a horrible analogy?"

"Given that hockey is a sport, and a hamburger is a type of food," he began with a smirk. "Yes, Shannon. I'd say that's a bad analogy. You were better off saying hockey is to Canadians what baseball used to be for Americans: a past time. That is until American football took over."

"I guess you're right," Shannon agreed with a sigh. "That was pretty dumb what I said, huh? Your analogy had more synergy, and congruence."

"I wouldn't say it's that serious to articulate so eloquently, but yeah, mine was better," Tyler agreed, and nodded. "More sameness with my comparisons."

"Where are we headed?" She questioned again, tweaking the way she asked him. Maybe if he revealed where they were headed, she could figure out on her own, where they'd end up.

"Still not telling," he teased and lifted the index finger of his right hand on the steering wheel fourteen degrees north, before swiveling it sideways.

"But I was quite giving this morning for breakfast," Shannon whined rubbing his leg, reflecting on their session of oral sex. It wasn't a literal meal, but was appetizing all the same.

"You owed me for three hours of sleep," He retorted.

He slept until 6:30 AM, then just cuddled with Shannon for another half hour. That's when he dropped a bombshell, stunning Shannon by telling her that they had a flight to catch to a different city in Canada. A city that they'd arrive in roughly three hours. At 7:00 AM, they left the Lester B. Pearson International Airport with a non-stop flight from the WestJet Airline to the Calgary International Airport.

And just before they left for the airport, Shannon gave him some relief below the belt.

"You suck!" Shannon yelled, still bratty about him not revealing where they were going.

"No. You did actually," Tyler corrected her, and started to laugh again. "Swallowed too. Twice."

Shannon blushed, and remained silent the rest of the drive. He was right-about each instance.

---

Twelve Minutes Later

7130 Barlow Trail S.E.

Calgary, Alberta, Canada

"Close your eyes," Tyler requested as he and Shannon exited the now parked rental car. "I will guide you out. I promise you won't hurt yourself."

"Okay," Shannon said with closed eyes, as she flailed her hand around aimlessly like a newly born bird, trying to figure out just what exactly wings were, and how to use them.

"Here we are," he said navigating her after walking several paces. "Aaaand...now you can open."

"Whoah!" Shannon said as she gasped. "Storm Wrestling Academy. Wow, looks incredible."

"It's even better on the inside," Tyler replied, grabbing her hand, and they continued to walk up towards the entrance. "I remember in August when we were together in Brooklyn, you asked me what was the most impactful moment of my career."

"You said it was the moment everything clicked for your character," She replied. "The in-ring talent was always there. But the character, the gimmick, and all the little pieces took time to mold as one. You said when management got behind you the same way you got over with the crowd, it was an awesome feeling."

"I did, and you said some pretty amazing things to me about my value in the company, my leadership, and desire," Tyler said, stopping when they were two feet from the entrance door. He rubbed her knuckles. "Your words meant a lot to me as well. You weren't here in developmental for as long as I was to see my ups and downs in the flesh. And yet, the way we connected during that date, it was like you were here with me the entire time. You could appreciate from afar my perseverance and passion. You didn't view me as a dead-end jobber."

"I admired your journey regardless of how long it took," Shannon replied, staring intently into his blue eyes. "I know you worked your ass off, and earned that call-up."

"I know, and I thank you for that," He responded, returning her gaze. "That's why I brought you here. Because I know you recognize and thrive on drive, I figured you'd want to see where it truly began for me. And that's right here in this building."

Shannon's green eyes started to water a little. Like Tyler, she was a life-long wrestling fan, and felt compelled to pursue it as a career. She was finally employed by the number one employer of her chosen occupation. She was surrounded by a pool of talented peers she could put on awesome shows with for the fans. She received her first ever championship a couple of months ago. And had a great boyfriend as a wonderful strawberry on top. Life couldn't really be any sweeter for her right now.

Shannon unclenched her fingers from Tyler, and reached up for his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

"I lo-" She started, but was interrupted by a door bursting open. It caused her to jump from the embrace with him, following their kiss.

"Hey, Mattias!" Yelled Lance Evers, known to many wrestling fans by his wrestling persona of "Lance Storm." He was the owner and head trainer of Storm Wrestling Academy. "Great to see you. You make me proud every time you're on my screen."

That was the second time Shannon was about to tell Tyler she loved him. She almost got it out in June at Takeover: Passion. And it nearly happened here. She loved him for a long time, and in conversation she mentioned it, but it was just expressed differently when it came out of her mouth. Phrases like "my love for you," or "the love I have for you," he heard her say. But the direct articulation of "I love you," had yet to spew from her lips. Something, or in this case, someone always got in the way.

"Thanks Lance. I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Shannon," Tyler said after Shannon turned towards the older man with the shaved head.

"Pleasure," Lance said after extending his right hand out to Shannon, waiting for her left. After five seconds elapsed, she offered it to him. She was shaking off the markdom.

"Likewise," She responded, shaking his hand.

"So am I your uncle, or long lost cousin?" Lance inquired, as he gestured for the couple to enter the building, holding the door for them as they walked through. Lance knew who she was. He watched NXT.

"Pardon?" Shannon questioned, rather confused. She had no idea what she missed.

"Your name babe," Tyler responded after laughing. "Your ring name."

"Oh, right," Shannon said, blushing, then softly slapping her forehead. "Actually, when coming up with that name, something, or rather a certain person was on my mind at the time," She added, alluding to the giant buzz around WWE's most popular female talent at the time, Ronda Rousey. She departed the company amid lots of scrutiny and a firestorm of controversy.

"No offense taken," Lance said, while they were passing through the main hall. "Just a small joke."

"Yeah, the Storm name had nothing to do with you initially," She reiterated. "I don't say that as an insult. A separate issue bugged me, which became the catalyst for the name. Then once I came up with it, I loved it so much that I found it easy to add layers of a gimmick to: both from a character standpoint, and creatively with promos, names of moves, and the like."

"Makes sense, makes sense," Lance agreed and nodded.

"Though, if I can be serious for a minute," Shannon started, and the two men stopped dead in their tracks with laughter. It was one of Lance's most infamous lines to every promo he delivered.

"Between the three of us, you, not Shawn Michaels, had the best superkick," She continued and he laughed. "And this is coming from an HBK fangirl. God, especially in your ECW work! Incredible matches."

"Thank you, thank you," Lance said, and lightly tapped Shannon on the shoulder. "Matt, I think I like this one. Keep her."

"Thanks, I think I will," Tyler said, winking at Shannon before everyone started walking again.

Shannon stopped when she saw a framed photo blown up.

"Holy cow!" She exclaimed staring at the picture painstakingly. "I recognize this… from…Jericho's second or third book."

"Yep, Chris took a full two years off from the crazy road schedule that comes with being a WWE Superstar," Said Lance, who stopped when Shannon stopped to share the story behind the photo. "When he contacted Vince about returning in the fall of 2007, while the WWE was working on Creative, Chris came to Calgary that summer to train at my school. While I was teaching my students, he was getting himself reacclimated to taking bumps. It wasn't easy at first. But he got back in the swing of things. We took this photo after a session."

"Check out the hot blonde in the front on the right hand side," Tyler noted with a grin.

"Ha, wow that's you babe?" Shannon asked. Chris Jericho was a hot blonde. But he wasn't on the right side. He was in the center.

"Yup, that's me a decade ago," He confirmed. "I believe I'm the only one from that particular class of students who 'made it.' Some were lazy, not advancing from their potential. Some weren't tough enough and quit."

"He's right," Lance confirmed, before checking his watch. "Hey, I've got a class at 11:00. Do you two want to stick around to watch me teach, talk to the kids, or get a little hands on?"

Shannon turned to Tyler who quickly nodded. Lance gave so much to him. Why would he refuse an opportunity to impart wisdom on the next batch of hopefuls at his school?

"We don't have any gear on us right now," Shannon said with hesitation. "It's at the hotel."

"Do you see my facility?" Lance asked with wit. "Top-notch. I have a few pairs of sweats from my store on Pro Wrestling Tees dot com. I assure you they're clean because they're brand new. Every month I have a variety of sizes brought to the building in case anyone needs them. I have some gently used boots and pads in storage you can borrow as well. Some are donated from retired wrestlers. Some I find in second-hand, or thrift stores in the sporting goods section. I don't have any half-sizes in though. So if you're a whatever and a half, just grab a pair that's the next size up."

"Well, in that case, deal me in," She replied.

"Cool, I'll take you to storage for the gear and sweats," He began, throwing an arm around his protégé Tyler, as they resumed walking. "Matt can show you where the lockers are to get changed. The day group should be here in fifteen minutes."

Tyler and Shannon ended up staying for the full two-hour session with Lance's students. Lance's school emphasized the wrestling aspect of professional wrestling. It's a concept that the average person would assume should be a given, but most schools didn't emphasize it as heavily. Trainers understand a majority of their trainees' goals are to become WWE Superstars, who cater to entertainment. For that reason, some trainers will limit the fundamentals in the ring for their students, opting to focus on character and showmanship.

Lance however, was the exact opposite. In fact, Storm Wrestling Academy's motto was "Putting the sport back into 'Sports Entertainment.' " The point being, if your goal was to become a great wrestler, where technique, precision, and ability were paramount to you, and more important than character, then you came to the right place. Shannon loved that about Lance's school. While she was a proud American, she had to give credit where credit was due: not every American professional wrestling school placed entertainment over wrestling. But more often than not, it was never doubted how serious, passionate, and elite Canadian and Japanese dojos were to the molding and honing of the physical craft and athleticism of pro-wrestling. No wonder she ended up falling for a Canadian.

After about twelve minutes in the ring with one group of students, Shannon had to retrieve headgear from Lance. The students were grappling so attentively and aggressively that she could feel herself getting cauliflower ears. Before things got too drastic where she needed to visit a hospital to get fluid drained from her ears, she paused on the side of caution. Once the headgear was strapped on, she resumed the class until she and Tyler were ready to go.

---

Three Hours Later

Ricoh Coliseum

Toronto, Ontario, Canada

4:13 PM

After Shannon and Tyler finished up with the students at Lance's school, they stayed in Calgary for lunch. They had their meal at Charcut Roast House in Alberta. It served a variety of Canadian, American, contemporary, and gluten-free options.

Once they finished their meal, it was time to hop back on WestJet to fly to Toronto again. Upon their arrival in the city, Tyler took them to an arena he was familiar with that Shannon hadn't been to.

"Welcome to the Ricoh Coliseum," Tyler said after removing his hands from Shannon's face. Last time he told her to close her eyes in Calgary. This time around he did the honors for her, in the event she'd be a little defiant and noncompliant.

The Ricoh Coliseum was the venue the Toronto Marlies of the American Hockey League played their games.

"Ha, I knew it. I knew we'd see hockey before the day was through!" Shannon exclaimed. "Has the season started yet? What team's are we watching? NHL's not my thing."

"It's fairly early into it, but yes the season has started" Tyler began. "Playoffs aren't until the spring. This isn't NHL though; it's AHL, and we're not watching a game today."

"What's the AHL?" She asked as she looked at the barren venue. "And what do you mean we're 'not watching a game'? This is a hockey rink, is it not?"

"AHL stands for American Hockey League," He answered. "Toronto's NHL team is the Maple Leafs. They play in a bigger arena called Air Canada Centre. Where we are is a smaller spot, where their top minor league team plays. The Marlies."

"Kind of like how we have NXT for developmental before people graduate to the main roster?" She inquired.

"Bingo!" He exclaimed before leading her to one side of the penalty box. "That's exactly what a farm system is like. The AHL is their NXT. NHL is their main roster. And we're not watching a game-"

He opened up the penalty box door.

"Because we'll be playing one," He continued. "You and me, one on one. I have a friend who works security here. I called him a few days ago. He put me in contact with the right folks to rent the rink for 90 minutes, skates, and equipment on short notice. Good thing we went to Calgary to get sweats from Lance. Because I didn't even think about clothes for you. This would be bad in a dress."

Within six minutes, Shannon and Tyler had on the helmets, gloves, skates, and pads. Tyler grabbed a puck and hockey sticks for them. He removed the covers to their blades, and proceeded to the ice. He made it to the center of the rink, but Shannon wasn't there. She kept falling on the way over.

"Why didn't you tell me you couldn't skate?" Tyler asked turning around, to see how far behind she was.

"Because you didn't tell me we would be in a rink!" She yelled as she zig- zagged, and extended her arms trying to balance. "I haven't had skates on since I was...maybe 4. And they were roller skates."

"Totally different ball game," He said. "Rollerblades help prepare you for ice-skating. They're in-line, like ice-skates. Roller Skates are for pussies. It's like a bike with training wheels."

"Well I guess it's good I have a pussy then, huh?" She asked sarcastically. "Whoooah!"

She fell. This was the eigth time. He skated over to her, intentionally waiting before offering to guide her up.

"You look cute on your knees," Tyler said with a grin. "It's a hotter visual when my dick is in your mouth though from this angle."

"I don't have anything to say about your dick right now," Shannon said, planting her gloved hands down trying to press herself up. "I...I…"

She fell again.

"Baby, help me!" She cried.

"This is what I'd be doing if I wasn't wrestling," He responded while holding a gloved hand out to her and skating backwards, pulling her forward as he did so. "Playing pro-hockey."

"I don't understand hockey," She whined, staring at the puck he dropped, before he presented her a hockey stick.

"You're from Maryland, right?" He asked rhetorically, and she nodded. "You guys have like a perennial stranglehold on lacrosse there. So many collegiate powerhouse lacrosse teams come from that state. Try to think of hockey as lacrosse on ice. We just have pucks instead of balls."

"I don't do lacrosse either," She mumbled.

"Alright. Well, fine. I'll explain things as we go along," Tyler reassured her. "Don't sweat it."

Shannon admitting she had no knowledge of hockey or lacrosse played strongly to Tyler's advantage. While her skating and balance improved a little bit the longer she was on the ice with him, the gameplay did not. Part of that was because Tyler was making up rules and penalties as he went along. One of the "rules" he said existed was the first person to score a goal, earned the right to drive to the opposing side with an open net and no goaltender, rather than a face-off for the next possession.

Bullshit like that he did all throughout their session in the rink. Shannon didn't know any better. For all she knew, that was the way the game was played. She believed what he said.

Shannon at least knew hockey had an aggressive side to it. It was a contact sport. At one point she swung her stick at Tyler in an effort to slow his speed down from skating. She ended up hitting his leg.

"Aaah!" He screamed, as he dropped down, tossing his stick, removing his gloves, and rolling on his back.

"Oh my God, sweetheart, I am so sorry!" Shannon apologized vehemently, skating over to him.

Tyler growled.

Not even caring about the cold, she sat on the ice.

"Baby, where does it hurt?" She inquired. "Tell me where the pain is."

"My knee, the right one," He answered with a hiss.

"Shit, that's the one you got surgery on in the summer!" She said in an outburst, and started to cry. "I...I don't...if you get setback on the main roster again...and it's all because of me, I..."

Tyler groaned again.

"Can I touch it?" Shannon asked leaning forward. "Let's see if you can put pressure on it-"

"Laps!" He screamed.

"What? Ty we've gotta' see if you can put pressure on it to figure out how bad it is-" Shannon was cut off again.

"Laps!" Tyler repeated. "You have to do five laps around the rink, goal post to goal post for striking a defenseless defender."

No such rule existed, despite sounding official.

"I don't care about penalties right now," Shannon said shaking her head violently. "I care about you and your knee. 45 to 3 sounds like a formidable win for you anyhow."

Another thing Tyler made up was scoring. One goal was supposed to mean one point. Tyler though, told Shannon one goal was three points. She scored once, giving her three points. He scored fifteen times, accumulating forty five points.

"Do your laps first, and then we can go to a hospital to see a Doc," he commanded. "It's just five laps. I can wait while you do them."

Against better judgment, Shannon did what he said, and by lap three, Tyler miraculously made improvement. Not only had he stopped groaning, and wincing. He was no longer clutching his knee, or even leg at large. Tyler wasn't in a fetal position either. Tyler was sitting upright, on the ice. And a smile was erected on his face.

"You were faking it this entire time?" Shannon asked bewildered. "You asshole! I felt like shit for these past ten minutes, thinking I hurt you!"

"You should've seen the look on your face, babe," He said, rising up. "It-"

"Was a look of genuine concern, a look of empathy, of regret," She said, folding her arms cutting him off. "I don't believe you right now!"

Tyler picked up his gloves and hockey stick, and skated over to Shannon. He grabbed her stick and removed the gloves from her hands, and packed them in the bag he retrieved from the penalty box. Then he returned to her, hugging her closely. She didn't resist his embrace, partly because she didn't trust her skating skills. Even though Shannon was upset, she probably would fall if she brushed away from him. But she did turn her head.

"Why are you getting so emotional?" Tyler asked and received no response from his girlfriend. "We're pro-wrestlers Shannon. We work people all the time. Calm down. It's no big deal. Relax."

He didn't get it. Sure, it was part of their job selling injuries in angles to set up getting people over and advancing storylines. But this was no script she knew about in advance. She legitimately thought she caused him injury on a body part she knew he had operated on. On a body part she remembered playing nurse to him when he was in rehab. She remembered giving him pep-talks on days his mood was low because the injury came at a time he was recently called up to the main roster. Being the recipient of a big push, the injury couldn't had come at a worse time.

Shannon would've been gutted to know she took time away from him doing what they both loved. For Tyler, this was harmless fun, a rib, a practical joke. It carried more weight with her.

---

Wasaga Beach

Ontario, Canada

11:05 PM

Eventually they left Ricoh Coliseum, got changed, and made plans for dinner. Tyler apologized, and wanted to make it up to her. Men and women thought differently. Tyler admitted he did not view the situation as serious as Shannon, but in hindsight, probably should have.

At 7:30 PM, they had dinner at a Thai Restaurant. Shannon wasn't a gold digger. While Tyler purchased their tickets to fly to and from Calgary the same day, Shannon covered her own meal at Katmani's. It was Tyler's choice to attend the Thai spot for their meal.

Katmanis was a Thai restaurant that had a good selection of Asian-inspired home cooking with fresh, natural, and chemical-free ingredients. It received great reviews from natives of Toronto as well as tourists. Because it wasn't summer, it was considered an "off-season" at Katmanis. So Shannon and Tyler got to experience a very quiet, cozy atmosphere, and had an opportunity to really appreciate the restaurant's immaculate decor.

Tyler shared the crab rangu appetizer. As for entrées, Shannon had the Palo Thai. Tyler had the Pad Thai, which was quite spicier. Despite the contrasts of heat in their cuisine, both were excellent choices, and Shannon picked up the tab for their dessert.

To make up for upsetting Shannon, causing her to believe she injured him during hockey, after dinner, Tyler took Shannon two hours North of Toronto to Wasaga Beach. Wasaga Beach was home to the longest freshwater beach in the world, and welcomed more than two million visitors every summer. The hot tourist spot in Ontario stretched more than fourteen kilometers (or a little over eight-and-half miles) of Nottawasaga Bay.

Part of the appeal of Wasaga was its size. Because it was so massive, rather than one, it was actually divided into six smaller white sandy beaches. Tyler spent two hours showing Shannon around beaches one through three. She got to see the places there that drew a lot of attention from the larger crowds, including some boating, fishing, and canoeing trails alongside the Nottawasaga River. He also told her neat stories about each location's tourist attraction's history among its perspective beach.

Another neat fun fact was that Edge and Christian spent time living in Wasaga Beach during college and their early days of professional wrestling training.

Presently, they were in a beach away from the six major ones of Wasaga for a more private and quiet evening. Still not bored or tired, Tyler decided they actually take a walk on the beach, not just the pedestrian-friendly portion with curbs and streets, along the city lines. It was October, but it was Indian Summer, a time in the fall where summer temperatures lingered on through the autumn season. Currently, it was 79 degrees. They were talking.

"You know that talk we had about not being insecure?" Shannon started, as she reached for Tyler's right hand. "I think I may have changed my mind on that."

"Yeah, and why's that?" Tyler asked, intertwining their fingers once he felt Shannon's left hand extend for his right. "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? No!" She screamed. "I thought maybe you were cheating on me. Pam showed me some fifteen second clip on...was it Periscope, Vine...err, I don't know what it was. And granted it was like three weeks ago, you and your band were having a jolly 'ol time with and on one another."

Shannon was referring to a time Tyler's band, The Retro Mechanics, had a concert. It wasn't on a day-off. Lots of WWE Superstars multi-tasked, and did side projects while maintaining their wrestling schedule. Dolph Ziggler was one of them who would perform at late-night comedy clubs a few times a month after house shows. Chris Jericho was another one who performed with his band Fozzy while still being a WWE Superstar. The Miz hosted a fantasy football radio show on Sirius XM during the regular season of the NFL.

In the clip Shannon was referring to, Tyler was on the floor of the stage, flat on his back singing a song. While there, his bass player, who was female, knelt on her knees and planted her pelvis at his face while playing guitar.

"It's just entertainment Shannon," Tyler defended himself, addressing Shannon's jealousy. "No different than you getting a rise out of that one dude at karaoke."

"Oh, I guess Pam told you about that," Shannon said through a blush.

"Yes, she did," He confirmed.

"The ladies were all nice when you introduced me to them in Brooklyn before you opened for Fozzy Summerslam weekend," She began. "But after seeing that clip, I'm not sure how I feel about five women in your band, and you're the only man."

"Well, you know," Tyler started, and shrugged his shoulders. "We may break up. I've gotta' keep my options open, and remind them of my availability."

Shannon unclenched her left hand from him, and stopped walking. She was silent.

"What?" He questioned with a smirk. She still didn't say anything. "What?"

Did he just basically imply that he was making advances on the chicks in his band on purpose? He's essentially mapping out his hookups blatantly to me, insinuating our relationship's demise. Ugh, men.

Seeing that he traveled about twenty steps, and Shannon hadn't made any since she unclenched her hand, Tyler turned around and jogged back to her.

"I'm joking, I'm joking," He assured her. "Besides the broads in my band aren't my type."

"Female's your type," said Shannon, who finally broke her silence.

"Females," Tyler began with a nod. "Who aren't lesbian," He added.

"I'm sorry," Shannon apologized, raising her right palm to his left cheek and caressed it.

"It's okay," He said with a smile to her. "Jealousy can be a bit of turn on though. I dig it. Makes it more apparent that I'm wanted."

"Ha!" Shannon laughed as she removed her hand from his face. "Speaking of being wanted, I got asked to the prom by a boy in Victoria."

"Did you turn the loser down nicely?" Tyler asked.

"No," Shannon responded, and shook her head horizontally. "I didn't turn him down at all. I said I'd go."

Now Tyler was the one who stopped dead in his tracks.

"What the hell do you mean you said you told him you'd go?" Tyler questioned and snapped.

His tone went from playful to angry. "I thought you were done fucking kids? Have you forgotten about that one guy who showed up at Full Sail who made you all anxious and distraught? I know I haven't forgotten what you told me about him. This is a bad idea. You should find out how to contact him, and tell him you changed your mind."

"No, no, no, no, calm down," She replied and reached for both of Tyler's hands, massaging his knuckles with her thumbs. "It's not like that. He wasn't creepy, and annoying. It was innocent courtship. He mapped out this whole plan with his friends where they'd cut class, peep out all these gyms in Victoria, in hopes of spotting me. When they did, the guy sings to me, while his buddies back him up on music, and recording the entire deal. It was a promposal."

"A what?" He asked.

"A promposal," She repeated.

"I've never heard of that," said Tyler.

"Neither had I 'til he told me about it," Shannon said. "It's this really nice gesture where the boys plan an intricate way of asking a girl out to prom. It's their way of doing something elaborate and dramatic as tribute to their understanding of how intense the drama and costs of prom can be."

"Oh, well, it sounds like something a girl would find cute," He began. "But you could've just snapped a picture with him, and left it at that."

"Now you're getting jealous," Shannon said still holding his hands, but stood up on her toes to lean up and kiss him. "At least I was jealous about women in your band. This is a teen boy. If I get approval from the WWE, I'm doing it. It's one night, not even a full night, but a few hours. He'll turn 16 the next day. It'll make his weekend!"

"So where's the rest of the Canadian tour for you?" Tyler questioned, changing the subject, and no longer interested in his girlfriend making plans for a venture with yet another teenager she didn't know personally.

"Edmonton-Alberta in the Clareview Community Recreation Centre," She replied. "Next up would be the Rozsa Centre in Calgary-Alberta, and finishing at the Charles A. Barbour Arena in Winnipeg, Manitoba."

"That last one in Winnipeg rings a bell," He said. "It's a decent, functional arena. But it doesn't have the best lighting. And they have really tiny dressing rooms."

"We'll manage," Shannon remarked simply, and they started walking again.

"I'm sure you will," Tyler said calmly. "So did you like Lance's school?"

"Yes I did. It was great," She replied warmly. "Thank you for taking me. Not just checking out the academy, but meeting Lance too."

"You're welcome," He replied. "Lance is very honest. Too honest for some. He will tell you when you're wrong, when wrong. But he'll try his hardest to get you to learn and do things properly, afterwards."

"Good balance, and I have appreciation for stern instructors," Shannon noted in regards to Tyler's comment about Lance being direct in his evaluation of students. "How much does he charge students at SWA?"

"$4,250 for twelve weeks," said Tyler. "He takes you from zero to moderate experience, to working full matches."

"Gees, almost four and a half grand is pretty steep to expect a someone 16 or 17 to kick out," She said with a hiss. She wasn't in physical pain. That was just the instinctive audible noise that escaped her mouth when she heard the price tag. "They're probably too young or immature to get a job that pays them enough where that figure is feasible to pay."

"Well for starters, Lance doesn't take anyone under 18," He began, holding a finger up with the opposite hand not holding hers. Eventually, he stopped moving, and gestured for them to sit in the sand. Since Shannon had on a dress, he assisted her first. Then he lowered himself to sit. "Students must be 18 and up, and sign a waiver. As far as the cost goes, he does offer a bit of a payment plan."

"How does it work?" Shannon asked as she watched Tyler fold his legs, kicking off his brown loafers just before he did.

"There's a $2,250 down payment with $1,000 payments due after weeks four and eight," Tyler explained. "A $500 deposit will reserve your place in a session, and an additional $500 payment is due two months before training begins."

"Wait, so his students are pushing five grand now?" She interrogated, wondering where Lance's motives were with the math. He appeared to be a stand-up guy, and she knew training wrestlers was his line of work for over a decade. But at the same time, she hoped Lance wasn't taking advantage of prospects.

"No, no, no, no, no," He defended his fellow Canadian and initial instructor. "Those separate $500 deposits are meant to avoid last minute cancellations. Both are applied to your tuition cost, so it is not a payment increase. It still totals the $4,250. The cost is also an incentive to recruit the most committed students. Lance likes to keep the class size at a reasonable number to ensure adequate ring time for everyone involved."

"Oh, okay, I was hoping he wasn't scamming the kids," Shannon said.

"Not at all," Tyler once again defended Lance. "He wouldn't do that. He's not that type of guy. He had a nice gig training folks in developmental at OVW in the early 2000s for a bit. He wasn't fired from the WWE. He left on his own, and with his own money went back home to form his own wrestling school to give back to Canucks...or any other marks around the world who sought to learn from him. There's a discounted price for anyone who pays up front though."

"How much?" She asked, folding her legs too as Tyler did. Her dress was long, so unfortunately for him, even with a slight breeze, he didn't get a thigh gap show.

"$3,750," Tyler announced.

"We have something similar to a discounted price, where I was trained," She revealed.

"Yeah?" He asked. "How'd it work out for you?"

"Well for starters, MCW does allow minors to train," Shannon answered. "The youngest we take is 16. 16 and 17 year olds in addition to the waiver you alluded to signing, also have to bring in a consent form from their parents or guardians. The parents or guardians also have to be present for all interviews with the trainer, as well as the time of enrollment."

"I guess Lance didn't want to have to deal with the potential stress that could come with younger folks and parents," Tyler thought aloud. "Did you start that young?"

"Nope," She responded, scooting a few inches forward, reaching her hands across Tyler's legs, rubbing his knees. She knew they weren't hurt. This was more of a comforting embrace. "I went through high school and college before getting trained. As a matter of fact, I trained while in college, during my last year."

"That had to be intense, huh?" He inquired. "Training to be a wrestler, a good one especially, is challenging on its own. Hard for me to imagine doing that and university."

"Like anything worth having, it's worth pursuing," Shannon answered. "But to your point, it made for a heck of conversation between my parents when the warmer months came. I couldn't exactly hide the rope burn and whiplash marks across my flesh during the early stages of training, before my body adapted to the feeling of running ropes and hitting the canvas."

Tyler chuckled.

"Yeah, they didn't know I was training to become a pro-wrestler. But the way I saw it, I played the game their way. I stayed in school, got good grades, and no-one's perfect, but I think I turned out to be a decent human being. So it was my turn. I made the decision to pursue what I always knew I wanted to do-like much of us who are in it-since being a fan as a kid. My parents aren't millionaires, but we didn't starve either. They certainly could afford paying for my training, gear, and travel for bookings. But I never approached them on the subject. I paid for my training all on my own while still going to college. I was covert with it. Didn't give them the news until training was over and I graduated."

"Impressive," Tyler said with a smile. "How much was training?"

"$2,000," She said.

"That's it?!" He exclaimed. "What a bargain!"

"It's a bit more than that," She began with a grin. "We break our training down into two parts: Beginners and Advanced. In Beginners, students pay $2,000 up front, and for twelve weeks are taught about conditioning and ring shape, chain wrestling, and bumping. After the twelve weeks, they make the decision on whether or not professional wrestling is for them. If it isn't, that's it. You walk. No refunds for your initial training. You just leave the business."

"And obviously it was for you," Tyler responded with a half of grin.

"Yeah, those twelve weeks went by in a jiffy," Shannon said warmly in reflection. "I went to college in Pennsylvania, and my training center was in my home state of Maryland. I commuted twice a week for twelve weeks straight in that Beginners' session."

"Wait, twelve weeks for a beginners' group?" He asked bewildered. "My sessions with Lance were twelve weeks total. There was no Beginners or Advanced group. It was progressed over the course of the twelve weeks from novice to experience, to advanced. And we didn't train twice a week. We trained five days a week! Lance has four sessions a year for each twelve week period, in addition to making guest trainer appearances at other organizations."

"Well I guess that explains why Lance's school is so much more expensive," She said with a contemplative look. "It was boom, boom, boom for you guys. Twelve weeks, non-stop, with the exception of the weekends."

"Exactly," Tyler agreed. "Tight, but efficient ship. Anyway, back to your journey."

"So after the twelve week Beginners' session, if you still have the bug, the Advanced session costs $1,500," Shannon replied. "With the Advanced session, as an incentive for going straight through, you don't have to pay the $1,500 up front. You can start with the $500 deposit, then pay your $1,000. Advanced is where we're taught about ring psych in depth, perfect our movesets, and work matches. Not only do we wrestle those in the regular MCW roster, but other independent national and international stars too. That includes former TNA, WWE, and ROH talent who swing by for our indie shows. We piece all aspects of our training together in 'Advanced' as we prep for our professional wrestling debuts in front of a live audience of fans."

"So $3,500 total?" He asked.

"Over time, yes," Shannon answered. "But like at SWA, if you want to pay for the complete training all the way through, MCW offers what they call 'The Champions' Discount.' It's when you're serious, want to take a chance on yourself, have the cash, and want to go all-in. They knock off $500, and you just pay $3,000 up front. That's what I did. I also saved more money by not purchasing gear."

"MCW had some to loan you?" Tyler questioned.

"No. The staff will recommend some websites and stores to get gear from, but I just re-used my singlets and boots from my amateur wrestling career," She explicated. "Gilberg and Elsworth tweeted a picture to me for 'Throwback Thursday' a little over a month ago. It was when I was just starting out, working Maryland indies. Wore the boots out 'til they grew holes. Anywho, that was going to be my 'in.' I drafted this plan since I was around 10."

Shannon held her fingers out as she revealed her plan, and told him aloud.

"1. Try to start working out as a tween. Even if it's not intense, begin to familiarize yourself with a gym.

2. See if you can do amateur wrestling in middle school. If not then, certainly for high school and college.

3. Try to pick a major in college that deals with public speaking because it'll help with character and promos."

"Damn good list," He said with a smirk. "All due respect to Hunter and Jericho."

"Thanks. Amateur wrestling was going to be my base for an athletic background because it was the closest thing physically to what I planned on doing professionally," She continued. "I needed to get the mechanics of grappling and footwork down. So once I made it to the world I always wanted to be in, I could quickly piece together the other things: character, promos, psychology, yada, yada. Picking Poly Sci and Comm as majors in college facilitated that."

"Very smart, I love that about you," said Tyler. "Like me, this was your dream since forever. You didn't give up on it. You penciled in small goals of how you were going to tackle it, and embraced the journey. The same way you're proud of me, I'm proud of you."

He leaned forward and pecked her lips.

"You said you commuted in and out of town between training and school," Tyler started, after pulling away from the peck exchange. "Did MCW have any housing arrangements for people who were looking for a bit more stability?"

"No. Students have to figure that out on their own, and just make the best decision based on their financial situation," Shannon replied. "Same when it came to gear."

"Well I was asking because Lance didn't make direct accommodations for us," He began while rubbing his hands against the sideburns of his hairline. He started to grow them out a bit more. They were well groomed however. They stopped at the base of his cheeks, but were not thick. "For people that wanted to be as close to the school as possible though, Lance purchased a house that he rented out to SWA students. It wasn't next door to the facility, but on a bus route near it."

"Oh that's nice of him," She responded. "I bet people who weren't native Canadians, or even Canadians who lived far from Calgary, took advantage of that. How much was rent?"

"For sure, for sure. Me being from BC, I needed to do it because that was a long trip," Tyler said, placing a hand at his chest. "Some of the Aussies, Brits, and Americans rented rooms in the house too. When I was there, rent was $1,800 for the twelve weeks. The house was fully furnished, with access to the telephone, cable, and Wifi."

"For a poor, struggling independent wrestler in the very early stages of their training, trying to learn the ropes, that's not a bad deal," Shannon explained. "That averages out to about $600 a month. Maybe $600 just for a room and not a full apartment to the outsider, is a lot of cash. But again, you have to take into account the close proximity to the school, and getting trained by one of the best who has contacts and friends in the biggest professional wrestling promotion on the planet."

"There you go," He said and nodded. "Lance went up on rent for the kids a few years ago. It's $1,850 now. But he increased it by $50 bucks because they made upgrades to high-speed internet, and added the WWE Network."

For the next three minutes they were quiet. They watched the waves dance on this uncharacteristically warm autumn evening. They listened to the light breeze whisper.

"You're doing it again," Shannon spoke, breaking the silence, and looking on at Tyler.

"Doing what?" Tyler asked returning her gaze.

"Like the night you were teaching me how to tie a bow-tie before we went to the Hall-Of-Fame," She responded. "The blue in your eyes is growing intense in shade. Usually when you're focused on something."

"Well I am focused," He admitted. "Focused on having a good time with you. Have you enjoyed yourself, spending the whole day with me?"

"I have," She answered. "Very much."

"Then I've succeeded," he said quickly, before turning his head back at the waves.

"It's so peaceful and gorgeous here in Wasaga," Shannon started before pausing to lick her lips. "I know it's corny, and you hear people talk about it in movies all the time, but I'd consider having sex on a beach."

Suddenly Shannon shrieked.

"Who says we can't?" Tyler asked seductively when he rapidly pulled Shannon from her seated position, and into his embrace. He laid on his back combing through her hair with his fingers, while she was on top of him resting on his chest.

"Isn't it illegal?" She asked.

It was a fair question to make. She hadn't had sex on a beach before. But was pretty sure it wasn't permissible even if she wanted to mark it off a bucket list.

"There are ways around that," He answered mischievously. "For starters, we're out here at night."

"Don't people still travel to beaches at dark?" Shannon questioned. "I don't think we're the only ones."

"Some do, but I lied to you a bit," Tyler remarked.

"About?" She asked, folding her fingers and pressing her fists together, forming a bridge to rest her chin on, while looking at her boyfriend.

"Remember how I said Wasaga was broken up into six beaches?" He asked. She didn't respond, figuring it was a rhetorical question. It was. "Those are only the main inland beaches. There are two additional, smaller, more private ones."

"I'm not the only one who maps things out I see," Shannon said, tracing his jawline with her manicured fingers.

"New Wasaga, and Allenwood, which are cut off from the Nottawasaga River, are the other beaches," Tyler explained. "Residents and tourists here are seasonal. And it's no longer 'seasonal.' "

Tyler lowered Shannon's face down to his, and they began to make out.

"Wait," She said stopping the lip-lock. "I don't want to get sand in my ass...or any other delicate crevice of mine."

"We can get a blanket," he said before engaging in the kiss again. It lasted for only twelve seconds before Shannon stopped again.

"We didn't bring a blanket with us, and I don't expect you to drive back to the hotel to steal one," Shannon pointed out.

"I will if I know I'm getting something out of it," Tyler replied while groping Shannon's bottom through her Bubblegum Pink flair-fit dress."

"What if we're in the middle of the act and a bug, or shelled animal crawls up on us?" She asked. "And I don't want you to just leave a condom on the sand for a seagull to fly by and swallow it tomorrow morning; or a human being to accidentally step on it. That's disgusting."

Tyler wasn't giving up.

"For the insects, we can grab a couple of umbrellas and open them up against the blanket, forming a barricade around us," He argued. "As for the condom, um, if you still have your IUD, that shouldn't be a problem. But when my load runs out of you and into the sand, ha-ha, yeah, I see what you're saying. That's not a pleasant surprise for a bystander to get their feet on."

Shannon started to squirm and shuffle, figuring this wasn't going to work out. Tyler pulled her back.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, don't get up, don't get up," Tyler begged. "We can still do it, but in the water, standing up. In the off chance we're spotted, from the waist up, it'll just look like we're embracing. No one could tell. And hey, the water will wash off the cum."

"You're so damn determined to make this happen," Shannon grinned against his face.

"You backing out?" He questioned.

"I'm game," She replied.

For the next five to six minutes Shannon and Tyler had a heavy makeout session. They groped and rubbed each other's sensitive areas heavily, doing what was necessary to heighten one another's arousal. Once Shannon was wet and Tyler was hard, Shannon kicked off her sandals. They each got up, and walked over to the water. They didn't travel severely out, careful not to pick a spot vulnerable to a high wave that would sweep them away. But Shannon and Tyler did manage to walk far enough to shield the intimate areas at their pelvis out of sight from unwarranted spectators.

Bending slightly, Shannon inserted her left wrist in the water and under her hips, peeling her matching pink panties off her body. Once she stepped out of them, her left arm ascended above the water, and quickly stuffed them in her cleavage. If it were up to Tyler, he probably would just push enough fabric to the side lazily, without removing her underwear at all. The problem with that was that for Shannon, depending on how long they went, or if a second round was on the horizon, it wouldn't be the most comfortable. Hence, her decision to remove them all together.

While Shannon was removing her underwear beneath her, Tyler had already unzipped and lowered his black slacks, as well as boxers of the same color. He didn't give Shannon the opportunity to leap into his arms. With his hands already at his sides, he reached under Shannon's dress, cupped her bottom, lifted her, and brought her pelvic bone to his. The union caused her to instinctively wrap her legs around his waist.

"Mhhmmm," Shannon groaned as Tyler slowly guided his manhood to her sexual tunnel.

"Aaaah, that's it baby, take it," said Tyler after a grunt while he continued to enter Shannon. "It's an amazing feeling. Your buoyancy in the water makes you much lighter than on land."

"Eh, eh, eh, eh," Shannon started to pant when Tyler began his stokes. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No sweetheart," He replied lowering his head to her shoulder, resting his chin on the cap sleeves of her dress as he continued to pump inside. "I'm just saying it creates a new dynamic of sensation. Because I can bang the hell out of you, and feel like I'm not carrying you at all."

"Oooh, oh yea, ooh," escaped Shannon's mouth before closing her eyes, and licking her lips in pleasure. Before her tongue re-entered her own mouth, Tyler greeted it with his own. They made out some more in between every few minutes of intense strokes.

Making love at the beach and in the water was fantastic to Tyler. It wasn't his first time doing it, but his first time with Shannon. When he and Shannon had sex the very first time together, and talked about it the morning after in bed, there was no awkwardness. They communicated well, and remained as playful as they typically were with one another before they slept together. Tyler also mentioned a bunch of scenarios in his head of where he wanted to have sex with Shannon while they recounted the previous night's events.

Doing it here was illegal. But he'd be lying if he said he wasn't willing to risk being arrested. The potential of being eyed by beach-goers, seamen, or even the cops was a turn-on. He loved the thrill. It was as though the idea was hot, and the actual intercourse itself was a bonus.

"Fuck yes," Tyler remarked after gently biting the front of Shannon's neck, while she reached her arms up to aggressively pull the collar of his three-quartered sleeved, buttoned-up white shirt. She did it several times in a row, which caused a bit of a rug-burn at the back of his neck. But he didn't care. He was glad she did it. He didn't tell her to stop.

With the water taking a majority of Shannon's weight, the sexual intercourse was quintessentially effortless. Shannon opened her eyes and greeted his. Eventually they progressed to a pace they both enjoyed and could consistently maintain, locking in their gaze and moaning simultaneously.

Unfortunately, because she wasn't naked, the dress was still on. He couldn't play with her breasts the way he would have wanted. But, oh well, whatever. Tyler was grateful Shannon didn't chicken out, and actually let him fuck her on the beach. It would've been even more of a risky turn-on if it were during the day. But a small victory, was a victory nonetheless.

Forty five minutes in, they still weren't tired. So Tyler removed one of his hands from her ass cheeks, and pinched various spots on her upper inner thighs with that hand. Shannon gritted her teeth in a painful, yet pleasurable wince as Tyler's strokes didn't cease. Her inner walls stroked him hard, encouraging him to embrace his release.

"Give it to me babe," Shannon whined. "Shoot me that load."

"In time Shannon," He whispered on the right side of her face, against her ear. "I'm not right to the edge, then back off as quickly as I would any other time. Ride it out."

Tyler's goal was to prolong his ejaculation. The lovemaking here, brought his pleasure to a slow peak. With it, he felt he could stop himself from coming if he needed to, or allow Shannon to force him to go mad. There was no fear of losing his nut. It could build. And he insisted that Shannon work on him to build it even further. It was a partnership one hundred percent of the way. When she was ready for him to let loose, he'd know.

"Aah, Aaaah, aaaaah, aaaaah!" Shannon screamed as her pupils widened and she looked over Tyler's shoulder. "A sail...a sail… a sail has passed!"

Tyler took her words as cue to let it go, so he did. When he felt her liquids coat him, he thrust several powerful strokes in succession. He returned to groping her ass cheeks with both hands. Momentarily, he quickly glided a single finger from one hand horizontally across her core to squeeze her clit.

He went deeper. He went harder. She cried out, and he emptied inside of her. Together they twitched as Tyler's legs buckled in aftershock from feeling so rubbery.

"My, my...my sail did pass," Tyler mumbled against Shannon's face through pants.

"No baby, a real…a real one," Shannon responded through a pant. "I see a sailboat over there."

Without hesitation and their sexual organs still connected, Tyler took a breath and descended deep into the water with Shannon clenched closely. It happened so quickly that with her legs still wrapped at his waist, the only thing she could do was grab his neck and take a deep breath.

He swam backstroke with Shannon still on his torso. Three minutes later, they popped up when the boat went away.

"Caught red-handed," Shannon said with a grin.

"Almost, almost caught," He replied. "You had my back, and I'm still inside your front."

They each chuckled; both in legitimate hilarity and in relief they evaded giving anyone a show, or themselves a jail sentence.

---

Wednesday, Oct. 19th, 2017

NXT TV

The NXT roster was finishing their Canadian tour in actuality, but tonight's episode-per all of those on NXT-was recorded earlier, and aired today.

NXT did something different this week. Rather than opening with the usual theme music and titan tron video, the episode commenced in General Manager William Regal's office. The wide shot panned on his notorious cups of tea, the Queen of England painting along the wall, his desk, and finally zoomed in on Regal himself, sitting in his chair.

"Good evening everyone," said Regal with his hands folded atop his desk. "As I have reminded several members of this roster, as General Manager of NXT, 'I am the law and land of this here brand.' That means I am the sole authority figure, the one true decision-maker."

Regal paused placing emphasis on the words "sole" and "one" with regards to those having leadership roles on television. It was Regal's clever way of giving rub to those fans in the internet wrestling community who may have enjoyed 'The Authority' on the main roster on a weekly basis in its genesis; but over time, the longer the heels in power were on television, and the more the stable grew (from beginning with Triple H, Stephanie McMahon, and Randy Orton, to including Seth Rollins, Kane, Jamie Noble, Joey Mercury, and The Big Show), it became tiresome and less intriguing. There was no legitimate jab being taken at Paul or Stephanie. That was a scripted line in Regal's opening promo to get a rise out of smarks, as he acknowledged their gripe.

"We have a show to get to, so I will try my best to get right down to business as quickly as possible," He continued and held up his fingers to accompany what appeared to be a creed in list format. "Due to the heinous attack two months ago on Jason Jordan and Chad Gable at the hands of Scott Dawson and Dash Wilder, tonight, American Alpha will meet The Revival in a grudge match. That match will be contested in a Steel Cage."

A bit of a roar caused Regal to pause again. NXT episodes were taped, but taped like all other WWE in-ring television shows, in front of a live crowd. So vocals from the audience were recorded.

"Announcements within the Tag-Team division do not stop there," He pressed on, raising his second finger. "I have not forgotten about the title shot American Alpha earned shortly before they were assaulted by The Revival. They will get it next week when they take on TM61. Also next week, The Authors of Pain, who made a statement at Takeover: Fight against The Revival, will square off against Dawson and Wilder in an elimination tag match."

A repeat of the roar emerged.

"Finally, the NXT Championship," Regal said, while holding out a third finger. "While I am aware Bobby Roode won a future title match against the champion, both Shinsuke Nakamura and Samoa Joe have legitimate cases to have proclaimed victory at Takeover: Fight. Rules are created for a reason, and must be upheld. At the time of call, in his position, referee Eddie Orengo made the right decision. Nevertheless, I don't fancy leaving things in complete ambiguity. So tonight, in addition to the Steel Cage match between American Alpha and The Revival, Shinsuke Nakamura and Samoa Joe will face each other one more time in the Full Sail Arena to determine who the undisputed heavyweight champion of NXT is."

The two previous roars were eclipsed with an even louder one with the last announcement.

"Very well then," Regal replied in response to the elation from the audience. "Enjoy the show."

The camera zoomed out and cut to the normal introductory music and video package. Once it concluded and commentators Corey Graves and Tom Phillips welcomed the crowd, the episode went straight into the opening contest, which was the steel cage match between Jordan, Gable, Dawson and Wilder. The men were given eighteen minutes, and put on a good match. The Revival looked to be the favorites early on, given they were the aggressive heels.

American Alpha however began the match smartly, working the arm body part of The Revival, noting it was a targeted area from The Authors of Pain at the most recent Takeover. Eventually Dawson and Wilder gained the upper hand, and hit their finishing maneuver Shatter Machine on Gable. As you can imagine, The Revival weren't the type to be humble in their victory. Instead of escaping the cage, the men attempted to perform a second Shatter Machine on Jordan.

The crowd grew excited when Gable and Jordan fought back and eventually hit their finishing move, Grand Aptitude on Dawson. Jordan proceeded climbing up the cage, while Gable remained inside to combat any recovering members of The Revival. Dawson remained down from Grand Aptitude, but Wilder was on Jordan's trail. Seconds later, he was the recipient of a German Suplex from Gable. Jordan continued to climb the cage, while Gable exited from the doors. American Alpha obtained revenge.

Following Graves and Phillips' final thoughts on The Revival and American Alpha's rivalry, a commercial for WWE 2K18 aired. It was one of same commercials aired during NXT episodes weeks ago. This time a countdown was added, marking the days until it was released across all major videogame platforms.

Following the commercial, the head cameras did not return to the ring, but backstage. They were not in the locker room area. A sit-down interview was taking place.

"JoJo here everyone," said Joseann, the WWE's lead interviewer for the developmental brand. She was wearing a white jumpsuit with her hair up. "I'm joined by NXT Women's Champion Shannon Storm. Thank you for being my guest once again."

"Per usual Josephine, your pleasure, not mine," Shannon said in annoyance, adjusting the microphone clip attached to the cleavage of her Lime Green romper.

"We've gone over this before Shannon," began Joseann calmly. "It's Joseann, or just JoJo, not Josephine."

Shannon did not reply. She just sighed.

"Anyway, you haven't had a good couple of months," Joseann continued. "The General Manager made a match for you and Nia Jax at Takeover-a match you never wanted, and one you barely escaped from-" She was cut off.

"Who's hand was raised at the end of that match?" Shannon asked angrily, snapping at Joseann.

"Yours," Joseann said shyly.

"That's all that mattered," Shannon said sharply. "Nevermind the irrelevant details. Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How. Those are what you journalists hunt for when putting your little reports and soundbites together, right? The Who was Nia Jax. The What was a defeat she suffered at the hands of me. When? On October 5th. Where? At Full Sail. Why? Because I'm too damn good, and I said I would. How? By pinfall. Anything else?"

"Yes, I was going to continue to reiterate how unfortunate things have been going for you," Joseann pressed on, glancing down at her tablet to read her "notes" on Shannon's misfortunes. "You were fined for lewd behavior. You walked out on your partner in a tag match last week. Something else the NXT Universe may not know about is that you were also arrested."

Shannon grimaced.

"Do we have it?" Joseann asked aloud, placing a finger on her earpiece. "I'm being told by producers that NXT is in possession of exclusive footage regarding this incident, and will play it now."

---

Flashback: October 12th, 2017

A few days before NXT's tour of Canada, there were some live events in Washington state. The film crew shot an angle with Shannon in Seattle.

Shannon was working out with Billie Kay and Peyton Royce, two ladies on the NXT brand who were heels. Billie and Peyton had singles feuds in the women's division with Asuka and Ember Moon respectively, following Ember and Asuka's match against each other post Takeover: Respect in Brooklyn this summer. Billie and Peyton kind of were channeling their inner 90s pop-culture film Clueless, meets WWE's 'Laycool' with their bullying and superficial personas.

After finishing a set with dumbbells, Shannon took a brief rest before making her way over to another apparatus.

"Step away from the squat rack!" yelled Donovan McNabb, a police officer who walked into the section of the gym Shannon was working out in. She was about to position herself under it. "Seattle PD!"

"We repeat: step away from the squat rack ma'am!" yelled Troy Aikman, a second police officer, accompanying McNabb. He pointed at his badge. "That is a direct order from an officer of the law!"

"I was going for a personal best!" Shannon yelled.

No she wasn't. Well, before this was recorded, she could have already. She, Billie and Peyton were working out. Paul wanted them legitimately sweating when shooting this out-of-ring segment. He also wanted the men in uniform to be real. It would be hokey he thought, to shoot an arrest in a gym where everyone was dolled up, looking fresh and sexy; and just in the nick of time some rent-a-cop looking dudes, who looked like security guards at the local mall, showed up. That would not only be too convenient, but lame.

Shannon told Paul, Billy Kidman, and Jamie Noble what she planned on doing workout wise, leading into the timing of when she would get "arrested." Billie and Peyton were also informed and were working out in the same area to facilitate the authenticity to the scene. Road Dogg thought it would be hilarious for one of the cops to barge in yelling, "Step away from the Squat Rack" just as the ladies were legitimately exercising. Shannon was never going to actually use the squat rack for the scene. That was the whole point, and the cue to capture the look on her face approaching it, when the officers arrived.

"Shannon Storm, you are under arrest," said McNabb as he reached into his left breast pocket for a warrant.

"I'm what?" She asked nervously, backing away from the squat rack, but in no hurry to join the men. "On what grounds? I'm no criminal!"

"Sexual Harassment, Disorderly Conduct, Assault-" said Aikman, who stopped when Shannon tried to scurry away, jogging between them.

"And add Resisting Arrest to the list of charges," McNabb barked, as he grabbed hold of Shannon's right arm, twisting it behind her, putting Shannon's brief effort for escape to an end. This gave Aikman the opportunity to slap the handcuffs on her wrists.

The scene continued for a few more minutes with Shannon mouthing off as she was escorted out the room, out the gym, into the squad car, and getting booked at the station. The cameras returned to Joseann and Shannon back at Full-Sail.

"I've been informed you spent three days in jail," Joseann said, looking at her guest. "One day is definitely more than enough for some people."

"Three when it should've been none!" Shannon yelled. "But it's all because of that stupid Orengo. Everybody seems like they want to make a statement these days. He was upset that I grabbed his junk last week, so pressed charges on me."

"Stupid referee?" Joseann asked rhetorically. "We all watched NXT last week. What you did was sexual harassment Shannon. And you physically assaulted Eddie Orengo when you delivered a WTS. You sexually harassed another ring official as well."

"So what!" Shannon screamed. "I'm sure both Orengo and Wuertz liked getting that sort of attention from me. Regal told me I would be fined for the Wuertz incident. I paid the money, and it was over. I don't know why Orengo couldn't play along."

"All due respect, these are two different individuals," Joseann reminded Shannon. "Eddie Orengo had every right to press charges if he wanted to, and he did. But that leads me to my next question. Because he did press charges, and we saw your arrest, why are you here tonight?"

"After the disregard for hygiene, not getting the opportunity to shower after my workout," Shannon started, lowering her voice, and twisting her lip, getting angrier and angrier. "After the humiliation of taking a mugshot photo, and having my fingerprints stamped, after the embarrassment of getting my jewelry confiscated, after spending 72 hours in that horrific cell with a bunch of bums and low-lifes, after all of that, then is when Orengo informs my attorney he's changed his mind, and wants to suspend pressing charges."

"Just like that, the second feelings emerge?" Joseann pondered.

Shannon inhaled, and exhaled. She didn't speak for thirty three seconds.

"No, not 'just like that' Josephine," She mocked. "I had to agree to go to Sexual Sensitivity Seminars on the weekends at Full Sail University for the next six months. Like Wuertz, I paid another fine. I had to transcribe a written apology to Orengo. I was also informed he would no longer officiate my matches. If I do those things, the charges would be dropped, my photo and prints would be destroyed, and this incident would be expunged from the records. That's what my lawyer told me."

"And you agreed to all of those things?" Joseann, questioned with raised eyebrows.

"How the hell else do you think I'm here?" Shannon snapped again. "Yes, I agreed! Otherwise, I'd be on the way to doing real time."

Joseann bit the corner of her bottom lip to prevent herself from laughing at Shannon's frustration.

"There was one other thing he made me do," Shannon started and narrowed her eyes. "I had to volunteer at one of the local markets in Seattle with the seamen, catching and tossing fish. God, when I look at my nails, I can just picture the scene all over again. I can't look at my cuticles without being reminded of the smell. Ugh!"

"I hope you've lear-" Joseann suspended her thoughts, when distracted by a tap on her shoulder.

"I can take it from here JoJo, thank you," said a female voice, who took Joseann's seat once she departed.

When Shannon looked up from her cuticles and saw who the person replacing her was, elation wasn't exactly the emotion she conveyed. The audience however popped for the visitor's appearance.

"When you first came here, there was a lot of expectation, and a lot of hype," said Ember Moon, who was wearing a Canary Yellow dress with a princess neckline. "And you lived up to it."

"Thank you," Shannon said with a smile. "I have no problem with you interrupting, if it's to praise me."

"You lived up to it," Ember started, and rotated her left hand sideways "...to a certain extent."

"Come again?" Shannon asked, raising a single eyebrow.

Ember did not stutter. Nor did she have a problem elaborating if Shannon sought clarity.

"Things started to change this summer," she continued. "You and Becky Lynch went on to win the first ever Attitude Era Women's Tag-Team invitational. Hey, Becky even went on to become the first woman to force Asuka to tap out. It was quite the accomplishment for the both of you. But like the coward you are, you end up betraying her. You attack Becky, Trish, and Lita at the end of the tournament."

Shannon rubbed her forehead a few times, getting tired of hearing this same spiel from people over and over again.

"So?" She questioned defiantly.

Ember readjusted her position in her seat, then pressed on. "Bayley hosted the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards and during the commercial shoot, you ambushed her in front of children. You pushed the kids too!"

The crowd booed. Ember let it go on for about ten seconds before continuing.

"I'll give you credit, you did beat her at Takeover: Respect," said Ember. "But once again like the coward you are, you just couldn't be gracious in victory. You had to attack her two days later before her main roster debut."

Shannon smirked.

"The fact that you smile at that sickens me," Ember said with a grimace. "And what's even worse is what happened afterward. Let's see, Becky Lynch got a pinfall victory over you in a non-title match. When the title was up for grabs you got yourself DQ'd on purpose. Then post-match you attack her, and leave her in a pile of her own blood. At Takeover: Fight, you escaped Nia Jax by the skin of your teeth-"

"Do you plan on making a point anytime soon?" Shannon asked, clearly pissed off while cutting her off. "Because my patience is wearing thin."

"You want a point?" Ember asked rhetorically. "Here it is," She responded before leaning forward in her chair, staring intently at Shannon, wanting her to reciprocate the gaze.

Shannon didn't give her the pleasure. She was looking back at Ember, but hadn't removed the sunglasses she had on her face since the interview began with Joseann several minutes ago.

Still, Shannon asked for a point, and Ember gave it to her. "I can't recall the last time you've had a clean, meaningful submission or pin on anyone!"

The audience screamed in support of the babyface Ember, and her claim.

Shannon finally removed her shades. She adjusted them with the lenses resting in her hair, and the stems behind her ears.

"Are you trying to question the legitimacy of my title reign?" Shannon interrogated, and rose from her seat.

Ember shook her head.

"I'm not trying sweetheart," she corrected, then also stood up. With the women being closer in height, they meet each other bosom to bosom. "I just did."

Shannon rubbed her entire face twice with her right palm, then turned her head away from the hard camera and beaming lights in their view. After milking the crowd's reaction a bit more, Shannon looked Ember up and down. She was now ready to talk.

"When people question my capabilities, I take it as a sign of disrespect," Shannon began. "When I'm disrespected, it pisses me off. So rather than waste my time, pandering to these idiot fans of Full Sail and millions of others who subscribe to the network; Rather than waste time listening to you attempt to talk shit when you already know I'm better at it than you," She added smugly, and the audience booed. "Ember Moon, why don't you put the flame where your mouth is? Woman up! Admit that the real reason you're here, why you made Josephine bugger off, is because you want a championship match against me, next week!"

While Shannon was a heel, the crowd appreciated Shannon not beating around the bush. She did her part in facilitating with Ember a much wanted, and inevitable television bout between the two.

"On one condition," Ember started holding one finger up. "When you face me, I want it mono a mono. Straight up, with no bull. You get disqualified: you lose the title. You get counted out: you lose the title. Now can you weather that storm? Or are going to do what you do best: evacuate and retreat?"

Already standing up just a few feet away, Shannon walked right to Ember's face. Intensity was exchanged this time around not with verbal insults, but glaring stares between the women. Seconds later she extended an opened hand to Ember.

"You're on!" was all she yelled before she pivoted her left ankle to leave the sit-down interview setting.

But that was what she wanted Ember and the fans to believe.

"Oh Shannon Storm with a right hand!" shouted Phillips cutting into the audio as he and Graves were aware the speaking portions of the segment were finished for the women. "But it's blocked by Ember Moon! Dropkick to the knees of Shannon...which sends Shannon backwards, tripping over her seat...Quickly though, she makes it back to her feet...takes another swing...and doesn't connect. Shannon gets armdragged into the lighting fixture by Ember!"

"Ember Moon is out of control," said Graves. "Shannon already agreed to the match. This assault is uncalled for!"

Chairs, plants, and pieces of equipment were knocked over as the two women made their way out of the sit-down interview area. They were combatting along campus grounds of Full Sail University, from the lobby to outdoors. Because they weren't in the Full Sail Arena where the NXT ring was, Road Dogg didn't want referees to separate them. If they were brawling around campus, it would make sense for university staff, not on-screen WWE employees, to break them up. Paul agreed with that logic; and as the cameras from the new angles the women were scuffling to and from were in view, campus staff rushed out. They were trying to separate the women. They stalled on the effort initially, but eventually pried the ladies a part.

"Are you kidding me Corey?" Phillips asked, feeling insulted. "Shannon was the one who tried to get a cheap shot in! So Ember doesn't want to wait another week."

Shannon continued to struggle breaking from the staff's grasp, trying to get back to Ember. Her sunglasses fell forward, from the top of her head, back down to her face. A few students who were informed about the brawl surrounded the rumble. That too-the college students spectating around the brawl-provided some authenticity to the fight scene Paul and his colleagues produced.

"Let them fight! Let them fight! Let them fight!" chants filled the Full Sail Arena as the fans watched on from the titan tron.

Before the segment came to a close, the cameras that filmed the outside brawl, returned inside to where the interview was located. The chairs and lighting fixture were neatly reassembled. There was something slightly different though. A mask was on the chairs. It was an Asuka mask.

---

When NXT returned in the ring, Baron Corbin defeated newly separated from DIY, Johnny Gargano. The plan for Gargano to compete in the cruiserweight division was still in tact. However, storyline wise to give Corbin some relevance and reemergence since going under the radar a bit, the two were paired on tonight's episode. Corbin cut a promo about Tomasso Ciampa's beating on Gargano being a fraction in size to the one Gargano had awaiting from his hands.

It wasn't exactly untrue. It was a squash match for Corbin. When he won, he gave Gargano the End of Days an additional two times, which resulted in the referee reversing their decision, and awarding the victory back to Gargano. Corbin was upset, and the fans reacted in sympathy to Gargano. That was the goal.

Lastly, the episode concluded with NXT Heavyweight Champion Shinsuke Nakamura defending the title against Samoa Joe.

The match hit the twenty first minute mark when the finish approached. Shinsuke out maneuvered Samoa Joe on a Coquina Clutch attempt. Shinsuke kicked out late on a Urnage Side Slam. Bobby Roode proceeded to make his way down the ramp. He was in a suit, observing.

"What I tell you last week?" Joe asked angrily. "This ain't your business! Back off!"

Samoa Joe hoisted Shinsuke up for his Muscle Buster.

Bobby Roode continued to walk down the ramp. He didn't make a turn for the announcers' desk to join commentary late. Nor did he proceed to scold the referee officiating the match. He simply stood at the very end of the ramp, a mere two feet away from the ring, and watched the contest.

Samoa Joe hesitated, just slightly before dropping Shinsuke. It was as though he wanted to execute the Muscle Buster directly in front of Roode as a warning, or taunt for approaching the ring. That hesitation proved fatal however. It gave Shinsuke an opportunity to rotate Joe for an inverted Victory Roll. Joe had the awareness to quickly kick out. But the minute he rose to regroup, Shinsuke created enough separation for the Kinshasa, nailing it, and obtaining the win.

Once Shinsuke was announced the victor, Samoa Joe recovered from his daze. He grabbed hold of the bottom ropes.

"What the hell was that?!" He yelled at Roode.

"Me 'backing off,' " Roode answered with a coy smile, holding his hands up in surrender.

He was right. He did back off. He didn't do anything to anyone. But the cunning Roode knew exactly what he did despite not doing a thing. He cost Samoa Joe the championship. And he did so, without even laying a finger on either Joe or Nakamura. If Samoa Joe could do that a month prior to Shinsuke, indirectly aiding Kassious Ohno with a big non-title win over the champion, why couldn't Bobby?

Mischievous? No. It was glorious.