Taking What I Deserve!

by **Mr. Dashing** Tue Mar 21, 2017 5:02 am

After Monday night Fusion has concluded and the fans are starting to file out of the arena, this clip is uploaded to CMV.com, showing Dennis Lewis being thrown from off camera into a stack of supply crates! This is clearly taking place back stage as we see the attacker, Travis King, step into frame, sweat pouring down his face and into his mouth where he spits it out. The young blood made his presence felt on Fusion when he brutally attacked Suraci after his match and then later on in the evening tried to do the same thing to Salvi but wasn't as successful. King now stalks Lewis who's getting to his feet, slowly, using the boxes to support his weight. Travis grabs him by the back of his head and slams him face-first into the brick wall, blood instantaneously beginning to flow from his nose. The undefeated newcomer who's obviously on some sort of mission tonight then hoists Dennis up and over his shoulders, walking out into the middle of the hall and slamming his neck right down onto the concrete, Checkmate! Security finally arrives at the scene, King backing off, clapping his hands and smirking like a devil, licking his lips at the damage he's caused. General manager, Johnny Sampson, comes up to Lewis' side, looking down at the mangled mess that is his body, then he looks over at King who nods his head.

Sampson
What the hell!?

Travis in an instant grabs Johnny by his collar and rams him into the wall, security set to pounce but Sampson tells them to hold off.

Sampson
I suggest that you let me go.

King blows air out of his nose, like an angry bull ready to strike.

King
And I suggest that you give me Dennis' spot in the Cyborg Invitational, he won't be needing it anymore.

Big Johnny takes another look at Lewis who's now being hauled off by the medical crew.

Sampson
Hmm, and if I don't?

King
Then I do THAT, to every single other guy in the tournament, until I get what I deserve!

Johnny sighs, slightly nodding his head which causes Travis to drop him like a rock. The illustrious gm picks himself up and dusts his suit-jacket off, shaking his head.

King
Wise choice, I expect Salvi in that ring next week, don't let me down . . . Boss . . .

King laughs to himself as he walks off down the hall, leaving Sampson with yet another problem on his already over-flowing plate.