Team Work chapter 243
July 24th, 2020
Stephanie taps her fingers against her forearm and mulls over things. There are whispers, rumors of something coming that she can't really grasp, or care to understand it. All she knows is it better not affect her show and the things she's managed throughout this pandemic. Resting a hand on the walls of the performance center, she smiles faintly and thinks about how thankfully smoothly everything has gone in the last few months. "May it last," she murmurs to herself before escaping into her office to begin booking.
Drake Maverick wins over Chris Bey. Tyler Breeze defeats Karrion Kross, and Ruby Riott succeeds against Diamante. Bronson Reed makes relatively quick work of Fandango. Kairi Sane wins a triple threat match against Shotzi Blackheart and Nikki Cross. In six man action, Mustafa Ali partners with Cody and Moose to defeat Hangman Page, Jake Hager and Chris Sabin. Dexter Lumis wins against Matt Jackson.
Rhino makes fast work of Riddle, catching him unaware with a spear. Ricochet defeats Montez Ford, and Timothy Thatcher outlasts all of Randy Orton's methodical offense, twisting him into submission and, shocking everyone, forcing the Viper to tap out as he manipulates his shoulders with just enough pressure to make him desperate, whispers of past injuries haunting him. Danny Burch defeats Nick Jackson, and Angelo Dawkins partners with Gran Metalik to win against Jeff Hardy and Alex Shelley. Cedric Alexander wins a fatal fourway against Oney Lorcan, Mansoor and MJF.
The main event pits Seth Rollins against Chris Jericho, and Jericho merely watches with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow while Seth makes his entrance, disposing of his jacket and standing before Jericho, one glove on, a calculating look on his face. "Messiah, huh?" Jericho calls out at him once his theme fades away. "Messiah of nothing, right?" He waves a hand around and Seth allows his gaze to wander around the empty arena, the lack of the crowd.
"Shut up, Jericho," he calls out. "Check twitter to see how wrong those words are." Rankled by the mere suggestion of it, as soon as the bell rings, he's on top of Jericho, landing as many punches and knees to the gut as he can. Jericho is still dangerous, but he's just a smidge slower, needs to play things smarter instead of riskier, so Seth takes advantage of as much as he can, trying to keep Jericho off his gameplan, leaning on defense more than offense.
But Chris is riley and smart, and it's only a matter of time before Seth finds himself on the opposte side of this, struggling to regain his composure, his footing after a solid set of hits from the other man that rocks him backwards. Jericho can still hit, and it's proven again and again as Seth is rocked back, almost falls onto his ass at one point. He groans and moves, only just swiping Jericho with his boot before Jericho sweeps his legs out from under him entirely. Then it's on, Jericho straddling him, landing blow after blow after blow, starting to knee him in the side, expeling oxygen from his lungs as his ribs take quite the beating. "Punk kid, think you can overwhelm me that easily? I'm no Tommy Dreamer," he spits.
Seth is almost impressed that Jericho had done his research on him that thoroughly, but it also pisses him off, being called a kid when he's got numerous world championships under his belt b now, had been the backbone of WWE for numerous years while Jericho left, never bothering to stay in one place long enough. Suddenly he needs to be up, he needs Jericho to be suffering, so he pieces together some energy and shoots his knee up, catches Jericho hard in the gut, and sends him back just enough to slide out from under him, forcing his aching body upright. "Jackass," he says, smirking down at Jericho's awkward sprawl on the mat, before lunging forward and swiping his boot right over Jericho's face. He smirks, imagining the horrified reaction of his fighting back so brutally, before gripping Jericho by the belt and pulling him to his feet.
Grips him around the middle and bodies him up, slamming him back against the mat. Jericho gasps, now the one to be winded and suffering, and Seth nudges him disdainfully with his boot. "I dunno, from this angle, you don't look that different from Dreamer," he taunts him, and Jericho writhes, struggles once more to get to his feet, but Seth's done with this, over with past their prime fools like Chris treating him with such disdain and disrespect. Barely gives Jericho time to pull himself up onto his forearms before he's lunging forward, curbstomping him brutally into the mat as well, this pin feeling significantly sweet as he holds his shoulders down to the mat, watching the referee count with barely restrained pride.
Seth gets to his feet once he knows it's over, and allows the ref to lift his hand in acknowledgement of yet one more win of his.