In Trevor Wilson's hand was a crumpled piece of paper from a legal pad. He had folded and unfolded the item so many times that it practically folded in on its self when it was put down.

The man wrestling under the moniker Rejection had received a note from one of his superior masters here at Legion. It was brief but very direct. What he couldn't figure out was why any of the names mattered. God's Forgotten Son was a name he thought he had seen somewhere before, and Brian Spaes was someone he had actually seen compete.

Other than that the connections ended.

What he didn't like was the idea that he was being pushed in one direction or another and he had no control over it. He'd have to wait until after the draft to start to get some answers.

He folded the paper and slid it into the waistband of his pants once more. It appeared as though crowds were coming in and he'd need to get himself ready for the draft. Even though the surprise might be lost on him now.

Spaes or Winters.

-The 4th



"Fans and esteemed members of the press, along those who also make up the Dunn Cup Committee, I present...

Legion. It's what we are."

One by one, each individual that competed recently in Legion's first ever Draft battle royal of the 21st century gradually made their way to the ring side area. They had been summoned by Russel David, the Dunn Cup Chairman. As each man and woman walked down the aisle in their street clothes, Russel David thanked them for their attendance and for their participation before David finally entered the ring before the press conference commenced. In the middle of the ring, stood a podium. On either side of the podium where two steel chairs. All other steel chairs that had surronded the ring, some six rows deep during the Battle Royale, where gone for this and event, most likely packed in the back, behind those black entrance curtains somewhere.

The wrestlers sat on a small four-row set of portable stands, which otherwise blocked the entrance vision to the entrance way of the black curtains, now that they where filled with the assortment of individuals. The back row being God's Forgotten Son by himself off-center to the left, Stylin' Kyle Roberts otherwise looking unimpressed and ready to hop off and walk around, and Sammy Brown sitting more or less by himself, everyone giving the disheveled individual room to breath... everyone except for Nibi Augustin, who sat beside him. Notably absent was Violence Jack.

Russel David looked at Sammy Brown for a moment. He had done, well, much more then was expected of him already. And if he slipped to the end of the draft, if none of the captains wanted to pick him, well at least the old bum shocked the world for a day or two. Still there was a rumble, there was a possibility that he would be kept on. And all of this, because of that CWA business, go figure.

On the opposite side of the ring from the wrestlers, just outside of the ropes of the pony ring, stood the 'press' in attendance. The press where an assortment of faces that Russel David had pulled strings, to get involved in this event. It had taken all those left over favors that he had built up, and saved for a day like this, while he worked at Pro Wrestling Magazine. Alexis Soloski of The Village Voice looked slightly out of place, since it was evident she was more used to the world of Theatre... but after being pulled to Brooklyn the night before to watch what her friend had called 'large scale theatrical art', well this Church-housed Fight had kind of hooked her, so maybe the Voice would give Legion a bit of a mention this next week. There was also bloggers such as The Brooklyn Rail and City Limit's, amoung others. Not to mention EWzine and those he had known from Pro Wrestling Magazine. Stan Woo, also stood out to Russel David, but that's just because Russel knew him so well. Having gone through journalism with him at CUNY in Queens, this was the new mind behind The Mark.

The members of the media took pictures and notes either in their notebooks or tape recorders as they documented everything worth being noted. As Russel looked over in their direction briefly, he remembered when he was one of them. Now he would address them, answer their scathing questions the best way he could to protect the image Russel wanted to recreate for his wrestling promotion.

While he began his preparation, Russel thought about being contacted by the mysterious Fourth Man to help utilize Legion's untapped potential all these years, to create it into something relevant yet cutting edge in the wrestling business. He thought about the documents that lay on his desk, reminding him of the history, and the men who fought within it to become something more then just what they where. He thought about how he had read all of this, and then in a fit of inspiration drew the circle within the square, split into four distinct corners... and he knew he couldn't do anything else, but bring it to life.

Of course, several hardcore wrestling fans who arrived to the Church of Fight early enough in this part of Brooklyn were allowed to attend, most having taken the opportunity given to them to come and enjoy the Draft the day after the Battle Royale. James Boyd came from behind the stands where the wrestlers where sitting, his entrance from the black curtains having been blocked from view. He shuffled through certain paper work, nodded towards the roster, and then stepping into the ring patted Russel David on the back.

David smiled at him, happy to see a non-judgmental face for a moment, before Boyd place a certain amount of papers behind the podium, while giving some papers to Russel. Just as quickly, James Boyd stepped out of the ring, this was David's show, he was just making sure it was running smoothly. David started the press conference as flash bulbs exploded in front of him. The first piece of business to discuss, Russel David explained to the audience that everyone was brought to the Church of Fight because of the ramifications of the battle royal and the last four individuals who made it to the end, in the order of their elimination. So without further hesitation, Russel announced the four captains in the order they would draft possible members of their team:

First, it was Nibi Augustin; then Brian Spaes, followed by God's Forgotten Son and last but not least, Jonathan Wilson. Each man left their seats in the stands and joined Russel David in the ring. Russel David reached into his suit jacket inner-pocket and pulled out four arm bands. Each arm band was a different color. Augustin was handed the black band, Brian Spaes was handed the blue band, God's Forgotten Son was handed the red band and Jonathan Wilson was handed the white band.

Each man, slipped the arm band on, making evident that each had a C on it, to signify that these men where the captains. As the captains sat in the steel metal folding chairs, which were setup next to the podium, the tension was evident. Each individual cautiously had entered the squared circle and avoided eahc other and the possible brawl that could have broken out if they had made contact. God's Forgotten Son and Brian Spaes sat on the left of the podium, while Jonathon Wilson and Nibi Augstin sat on the right and each one of them shuffled through their personal pre-draft notes.



Kyle Roberts leaned against a wall of the Church, watching the draft with an air of boredom.

VOICE: Excuse me, Kyle?

Kyle looked to his left, where a small wiry Asian guy with spiky hair and a goatee, notepad and pen in his hands is looked up expectantly.

KYLE ROBERTS: Yeah?

STAN WOO: Stanley Woo, The Mark. I was wondering if you'd be able to take a few minutes to talk to me?

KYLE ROBERTS: (deadpan) I dunno. I might be too hopped up watching this exciting drama that is a draft.

STAN WOO: God's Forgotten Son is one of the captains. You were trying your hardest to get him eliminated during the battle royal-

KYLE ROBERTS: I prefer to think of it as a Battle ROYALE. You know, like the French way.

STAN WOO: Does it matter?

KYLE ROBERTS: (shrugs) Sounds a bit classier that way, don't you think? Also sounds like a dessert item at some UFC-themed restaurant.

STAN WOO: ...Okay.

KYLE ROBERTS: Has anyone ever thought up a UFC-themed restaurant? It's not like half those guys are doing anything right now. They would always use a paycheck. Do you think they'd be suited to serving?

STAN WOO: About God's Forgotten Son-

KYLE ROBERTS: He seemed like a threat. My best chance was to take him down. If I didn't take the preemptive shot, he would have come at me regardless.

STAN WOO: You really seemed to be wailing on him something fierce.

KYLE ROBERTS: (waiting) And?

STAN WOO: I don't know. You just seem a little different than you used to be.

KYLE ROBERTS: Let me let you in on a little secret here, Stanley. I was almost crippled four months ago. A guy in REBEL broke my neck.

STAN WOO: That's not really a secr-

KYLE ROBERTS: So I'm sorry if I've got a bit of aggression I still need to work out. Wrestlers see a weakness, they go for it. We're all like jackals, Stan. Believe me, I've definitely gone after a wounded body part of my opponent.

STAN WOO: Doesn't that seem a little bloodthirsty compared to most of your time in REBEL?

KYLE ROBERTS: Hey, Stan. Reality check. To be quite honest, I never really changed much between when the fans hated me and when they loved me. I've always looked out for number one, and I've always been concerned with winning and beating anyone who stood in my way. Now I'm in New York City, fighting men who've never heard of me. So if I've got to show them just how much I'm willing to win, so be it.

STAN WOO: What would you say to the team captains before they start the draft?

KYLE ROBERTS: Well, first off, I'd say, "Hey, God's Forgotten Son. No biggie, no problems. I'm pretty sure you're NOT going to be drafting me to your team, but that's cool. To every captain, I'd say, if you're looking for a guy who'll get you wins, who'll go out there and fight, even only four months after breaking his neck, choose me. If you're looking for someone who looks to get the job done, choose me. If you're looking for someone who'll be your buddy? Choose, I dunno, Hornet or someone."

STAN WOO: Thanks, Kyle.

KYLE ROBERTS: Whatever.



The Dunn Cup Chairman introduced Nibi for the first official draft selection as the youngster stepped behind the podium. He wore his tan Carhartt jacket just as he had so consistently since moving to New York City from Traverse City. He also wore a grin, which sliced across his strong face. He knew who he was picking, and it would certainly take some by surprise.

Damn it though, he certainly wasn't above turning a few heads.



WITH THE FIRST OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE....
SELECTED...




Russel David took a paper from behind the podium and coyly tore it up, looking to keep what he was doing as inconspicuous as possible.

Brian Spaes watched as the Cardiac Kid shook the hand of this... drifter. A man that wasn't even planned to be in the Battle Royale, and yet... well, Brain could relate to him. Maybe Brian had done more in the wrestling world, the but road certainly hadn't taken him any further then Sammy Brown, these years later.

Well, he had to forget about both of them, Brown and Augustin. He knew he could take advantage of the pick that Nibi had decided to make, and pick the man he wanted to pick. Spaes looked down at his notes one more time.



MTA. Q Line.

The train shook as it traveled on the elevated tracks from the Brighton Beach station. Below, the eastern European haven was bustling with bookstores, restaurants and other common day events. The smell of a traditional Jewish deli wafted through the air. The train was rather beat up, dented in and with paint all over it from Russian and Ukrainian gangs. If anyone had their druthers, they'd take the B line to get to the Church of Fight.

However, it is the weekend, and he just got off a shift of working in urban renewal at Coney Island. On top of that, he's not too pleased with how last night ended.

2nd place. Bleeding from the mouth. Displaced by Nibi Augustin.

The ultimate loser.

Brian Spaes sprawled out on the bench in the train, with his back to the window. He had on his duster, straw hat, a gross shirt from the work site, and peculiarly enough, a blue, glossy pair of his wrestling pants. His eyes were focused on a piece of notebook paper with the twelve draft choices. He chewed on a black ink pen. Better this than the nasty Nicorette. His body ached all over. After he got back from the Church, he lay down on the cold concrete of his loft and contemplated for the rest of the night. Almost didn't cut it. 2nd place didn't mean anything. Being so close he wanted it more.

Now, he had the opportunity to get stronger. Russel showed him various pictures of the past eras of Legion. Past famous teams, past super stars. One team resonated more so than ever.

Conan O'Connor, Alexi Ivanovich, Alessandro DeGiovanni, Chen Miyaki. These four first-generation Americans formed a team against stereotypes, against the burgeoning Xenophobia in the pre-WWII years. They drew upon the hard times of the Great Depression, and were unlikely fan favorites against a rising sentiment of anti-government and anti-corporation fervor. They even held the Legion Cup for three straight seasons, a near record.

They were the Minutemen.

Much like their historical patriarchs, the Minutemen were the underdogs. However, they were faithful to themselves and to each other. They were Legion.

It was clear in Brian's mind that day. He'd need a group of warriors, of soldiers, of revolutionaries. He'd need the support structure to reach his potential. He'd need his own army. He started scribbling up and down the piece of paper, making his draft chart, crossing out some names and circling others. He'd need his own Miyaki, the young stalwart. His own DiGiovanni and Ivanovich, two strong men, unlikely in their teaming but dedicated to their cause. He would have them. He'd be the Conan O'Connor this time around.

Tonight Brian Spaes would select his team.

The Minutemen would live again.



WITH THE SECOND OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE....
SELECTED...





"So, you got thrown out early and didn't make captaincy."

Steve Knox was hardly a comforting boyfriend, particularly when Alexandria Malone was still trying to get over her annoyance over the results of the "Draft Battle Royale". The only woman on Legion's roster hardly looked the part of some tough chick fighting against the power of the cock, she looked very much like some cute school girl who somehow got lost and wound up in a cathedral in Brooklyn. Her hair was worn in pigtails that hung to the sides of her head, she wore some fancy pink tunic, she wore a pair of black jeans, and she generally looked about as out of place as she could possibly look in a place like Legion.

"Well," Alexandria said, with this clearly annoyed look on her face, "Some jerk decided to pick me up by my neck and throw me out. It was annoying."

The way Alexandria's hand idly played with one of her pigtails meant that she was really kinda bored with all of the waiting she was doing today.

It was the day of the draft, and there was some semblance of tension. Nobody knew who was going where. Today's allies could be tomorrow's enemies. All that good stuff, really. Alexandria Malone hadn't been here long, but she didn't really know too many people on the roster and thus, she really didn't worry that much about where she could go and who would be her enemies after today.

"It tends to be annoying, yes." Steve Knox said, "But I'm usually too awesome to let that happen to me. Maybe you should be more awesome."

"Oh, if only." was the sarcastic response of Alexandria.

"Well, I can't be here all the time to give you my awesome coaching, but Cosmo will be around, probably." Steve said.

"Cosmo? You mean, the guy who answered the phone call for this place in the first place and made one of the bosses think that I was a guy because everyone's pet name for me is 'Alex'? Yeah. He'll be helpful." Alexandria said, equally as dripping with sarcasm as the last thing she said.

"You don't have to be difficult, Alex. ...Alexandria. Cosmo's not really doing much right now, anyway." Steve said.

"Except eating chicken in the corner." Alexandria said.

The two of them turn to the corner to see the Cosmo Kid sitting there with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken in his arms and a chicken leg in his mouth. Upon seeing that he was getting attention, he chewed his food VERY slowly, set the chicken leg back inside the bucket, and then swallowed.

"You're wearing the black panties today." he said, in his typically bass voice.

Alexandria paused.

"I... how... wha--" Alexandria started, but then decided that she's better off not knowing how Cosmo would've known that and turned back to the boyfriend unit, "Why are you leaving HIM here?"

"Because I'd rather he be here with you than Chris Chambers." Steve said.

The two of them then turned to glance at Chris Chambers, who had earbuds in his ears, all of his "gangster" wardrobe on, and he was listening to what was no doubt the most gangster song he had on his iPod.

"I did it all for the nookie! The nookie! So you can take that cookie, and stick it up your YEAH!"

Alexandria turns back to Steve, "Thanks for not including him."

Steve turned back to Alexandria, a noted look of concern on his face, "You're gonna be alright here, right? I can't watch out for you all the time, after all."

"I'll be fine, Steve. You need to worry about yourself. Last I checked, you're, like, crazy. You might want to get that looked at." Alexandria Malone said. She was really referring to the twin facts of Steve seemingly always attracting weird incidents and people at all times and Steve's busy wrestling schedule, though Steve was beginning to suspect that he was going crazy becaue he was taking advice from a fourteen-year-old girl who visited him in his dreams and claimed to be a shaman.

"I'll try." was all Steve said in response.

Alexandria wasn't going to mention how much she hated the fact that nobody really knew her name, and that they'd call her "Steve Knox's girlfriend" or, worse, "Joey Malone's little sister". She wasn't going to mention how much she would enjoy being able to work on her own, without Joey Malone or Steve Knox always looming over her shoulder. And certainly, she wouldn't mention how much it would be nice to finally have an opportunity to wrestle in some place that wasn't some crazy Squared Circle promotion in Texas and be seen as an equal.

Instead, she smiled at Steve, "Yeah. So will I."



WITH THE THIRD OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE...
SELECTED...





WITH THE FOURTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE....
SELECTED...


Having just returned to her seat, after saying goodbye to her boyfriend, Alexandria paused for a moment, blinked and then made her way to the ring. Picked in the first round.



A camera crew, or at least, a man holding a handicam and a larger guy in front with a microphone, walked around the Church.

LARGE GUY: Hey, wrestling fans, it's me, Dave Chapman, sex magnet and EWzine.com roving reporter! I'm here at the Church of Fight, at the Legion draft night. So far, the captains have chosen their first round of picks to be on the four teams. Nibi Augustin chose Sammy Brown, who as all you fans know, I chose as the number one draft pick last week! I love it when I'm right, especially when they all said I was wrong. Brian Spaes chose Hornet, a solid choice for a winning team, and kinda a steal for second pick to some. God's Forgotten Son took Joe Slade, one of the most technical wrestlers in Legion and a general all around badass, and Jonathan Wilson chose kind of a surprise, Alexandria Malone! Not that she's not a good choice, she's one good wrestler, but really, there are some others who could have filled that fourth slot a lot quicker. Will that choice be a bad one for Jonathan? I don't think so.

Chapman slowed down, seeing a frowning Kyle Roberts.

DAVE CHAPMAN: But what about the people who WEREN'T chosen? Like, say, Stylin' Kyle Roberts.

The camera swung in to focus on Kyle. He noticed it and his eyes narrowed.

KYLE ROBERTS: God, I hate you, Chapman.

DAVE CHAPMAN: Now, Kyle...

KYLE ROBERTS: EWzine.com can suck my-

DAVE CHAPMAN: (hurriedly) Kyle, what do you think of the first round picks?

KYLE ROBERTS: Obviously all four captains spent a little too much time in the ring last night and got their brains scrambled, that's what I think! Seriously, they chose Hero Boy? HERO-BOY?

DAVE CHAPMAN: He didn't get eliminated as easily as you did.

KYLE ROBERTS: And the girl? SHE got chosen?

DAVE CHAPMAN: She eliminated you.

KYLE ROBERTS: (smirks) She certainly did, Chapman. That seems to be a recurring theme at battle royals in my life. Not that the girl actually takes me down, but that they're drawn to me. Hey, man, I can't blame them. Just look at me. Alex's only mistake was that she didn't give me a Bronco Buster first.

DAVE CHAPMAN: I think you're giving her a bit of a raw deal, Kyle. She comes from wrestling family.

KYLE ROBERTS: Never heard of her.

DAVE CHAPMAN: Well, maybe you've heard of her brother, Joey Malone.

Kyle's face dropped. He was stunned.

KYLE ROBERTS: What?

DAVE CHAPMAN: Joey Malone.

KYLE ROBERTS: WHAT???

DAVE CHAPMAN: So you've heard of him.

Kyle started to laugh. Like, hysterically.

KYLE ROBERTS: Yeah, I know Joey Malone. And this Alexandria, she's his sister?

DAVE CHAPMAN: Well, yeah.

Kyle wiped some mock tears from his eyes.

KYLE ROBERTS: Well, this changes everything. Interview's over, fatass.

Kyle walked off.



WITH THE FIFTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE FIRST PICK OF ROUND TWO....
SELECTED...




WITH THE SIXTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE SECOND PICK OF ROUND TWO....
SELECTED...



"Welcome to the Minutemen."

Brian Spaes extended his hand to his second draft pick, sixth overall in the draft, with a smile on his face.

Rejection on the other hand accepted the handshake with a weak grip and a blank stare.

"Why did you pick me?"

Spaes, at first, was surprised, and then disappointed that his second pick might not have been a good one. He cocked his head to the side as if to reinterpret the question and then gave his response.

"I thought you looked like a good competitor an' we could use someone with your size and stature on the team. You seem to be of the character that I can trust during this season"

"No, I mean tell me the real reason you chose me. This is just you and me talking right now."

"Look, I'm not playin' any games with you. I told you my reason and if you don't like it then you can make up one."

Rejection actually looked hurt for a moment and then concerned.

"Seriously? It was your decision only?"

"Of course it was. I'm the captain and this is my team. What are you talking about?"

With a smile on his face, Rejection just shook his head and sighed. He looked back at Spaes with a sketchy smile but it was clear his edge had calmed down quite a bit.

"Nothing. Good to be on the team Cap."



WITH THE SEVENTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE THIRD PICK OF ROUND TWO....
SELECTED...


Eyes went to the wrestlers, looking for Voss.

Who...

Was not amoung them.

God's Forgotten Son looked around the rest of the not entirely huge space. He saw numerous faces... even a strange looking guy in the corner eating a bucket of chicken, but no Voss. GFS's emotions didn't shift, he didn't show any disappoint with this development.

As long as the man fell in line behind him, and showed up to fight for his team.

Within Legion, that's all God's Forgotten Son wanted from Voss.



WITH THE EIGHTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE LAST PICK OF ROUND TWO....
SELECTED...





Stylin' Kyle Roberts approached Stanley Woo, the man behind The Mark.

KYLE ROBERTS: This bites.

STAN WOO: Oh, yeah?

KYLE ROBERTS: There are sixteen people in this fed! SIXTEEN! And yours truly, Kyle Roberts, five-time NAPW tag champion, two-time REBEL World Heavyweight champion, and darling of the TEAM events is NOT one of the TOP TWELVE WRESTLERS in Legion?? Bullshit.

STAN WOO: Maybe you didn't make that good of an impression at the battle royal.

KYLE ROBERTS: Hey, you know the girl that beat me in the battle ROYALE?

STAN WOO: Alex Malone. Yeah?

KYLE ROBERTS: Is it true? Is she really the sister of Joey Malone?

STAN WOO: Yep.

KYLE ROBERTS: Strange. He never mentioned her. And I'm pretty sure with the way that guy followed me around like a puppy, I'd know if he had a sister who looked like that! I mean, I'm not even sure if they're really related. Is she adopted or something?

STAN WOO: Two things. For one, she's his half-sister. Two, she's not the sister of the Joey Malone you know.

KYLE ROBERTS:(stunned) There's more than one Joey Malone?

STAN WOO: Besides the one who is known for being the NAPW Ultimate Jobber champion? Yes. Alex Malone's half-brother was actually quite good.

KYLE ROBERTS: Huh. Bizzaro. You learn something new every day.

From on the platform Legion set up in the middle of the ring, Nibi Augustin approached the mic.

NIBI AUGUSTIN: I, Nibi Augustin, choose Stylin' Kyle Roberts as my third draft pick.

KYLE ROBERTS: (muttered) About fuckin' time.

WITH THE NINTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE FIRST PICK OF THE FINAL ROUND....
SELECTED...




WITH THE TENTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE SECOND PICK OF THE FINAL ROUND....
SELECTED...





WITH THE ELEVENTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE THIRD PICK OF THE FINAL ROUND....
SELECTED...





There was an air of inevitability in the air, and yet Jonathan Wilson didn't seem to carry it.

If Russel David didn't know any better, as he gave Wilson the podium, this clean cut man with brown hair, wearing a simple yet impressive suit... almost seemed to know that this next pick was his responsibility.

And he was alright with that.

With this man, that each of the captain's had avoided. And obvious cancer, to be certain.

A danger not only to a team, but to Legion.

SO, WITH THE TWELFTH OVERALL PICK OF LEGION: SEASON ONE, AND THE FINAL PICK OF THE DRAFT....
SELECTED...





Russel David concluded the press conference and thanked everyone again for coming as the Dunn Cup Chairmen shook hands with all the captains, before he exited the ring quickly. One by one, each captain left the ring and the wrestlers in the stands made their exits as well. Some didn't leave right away as they spoke with journalists, posed for pictures or signed autographs for their fans but one man in particular had other ideas. As J. Leslie Voss sat in the row of seats in front of the ring, where he watched the entire LAST HALF of the draft unfold, noticeably absent for his own pick, this 6'6" and 264 pound brute wanted to claim the spotlight once again, gradually he stood and hopped over the safety railing that had block the press. Before anyone realized it, J. Leslie Voss had managed to enter the ring and got his hands on the microphone that was connected to the podium.

Everyone still in the Church of Fight exchanged glances as Voss raised it to lips, while he looked in GFS's direction, who had his back turned to the Vossman. Voss ran a hand through his hair with an awkward look on his face before he spoke to the masses.

"Gee, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable here. This is a touch awkward, really, I mean, God's Forgotten Son? What's your mum's name, kiddo? I might remember who she was. I mean, you can't blame me for forgetting really. It's not forgetting if you never knew, is it? You can't blame a guy if he never knew a thing about you, really, let's be honest. Coz I am your fucken God after all."

The people still around laughed, while others chuckled politely as Voss shrugged to himself. Now he had gotten God's Forgotten Son's attention. GFS slowly turned around, without so much as pausing, headed toward the ring. GFS stepped on the small apron and athletically leaped into the ring with one jump as he landed on both feet with a bouncing thud. Slade was also nearby the ring. As both of his new teammates were inside the pony ring and it appeared a confrontation was fast approaching, Joe slide into the ring as well. He didn't much care for unnecessary bullshit. Though he didn't mind a fight.

J. Leslie Voss didn't pay Slade any mind as he paced around the ring and continued to talk.

"Oh well, I guess this is an olive branch of some sort. I mean, I'm gonna need some testing done but seeing that in-ring ability, I mean, really, who needs DNA tests when the kid is as talented as his old man, right? The age gap isn't that great but I'm tellin' you now, I've been potent from a ripe young age. In fact, if I'd have figured the joys of masturbation in the womb I'd have had a brother... er... son... er... that's just weird."

Voss tried to shake the mental image of impregnating his mother as a fetus as the fans still in attendance roared with laughter. The Human Ratings Riot continued on his way with the verbatim. Now he noticed that both GFS AND now Joe Slade were in the ring, before Vossman pointed across to Joe Slade, whom God's Forgotten Son had selected as his first pick.

"But come on! Joe Slade? Before me? I mean, the olive branch is lovely but if this is some kind of way of getting back at me for years of neglect you're going about this the wrong way. I mean, were you ACTUALLY paying attention in the ring, son?" The frustration in his voice was evident as the fans clamored with excitement of a pending brawl between a new team, and all Longshot could do was sit and watch his new 'team' from the wrester's sitting area, while God's Forgotten Son usually calm demeanor and poker face that hid his emotions was cracking very fast.

"Joe Slade ate an asshat full of the New & Improved Formula and went toppling down and broke his crown and Jill, uh-uh..." Voss waggled his finger like a soul sista telling her girlfriend she better never ever "...that bitch never came tumbling after. I knocked that sumbitch down and out and you turn around and select him before me? I mean, SUR-SLEE! C'mon, son, we've got some daddy issues here, I can tell, and I'm going to support you on this but Slade?!?"

Voss turned to him, pointing with one finger, while he shouted through the microphone. Standing about 30 centimeters from his face.

"Just because my boy here chose you over me doesn't mean I'm doing you any favors. This ain't a piggy back ride ya damn band geek..." God's Forgotten Son had to physically hold Slade back against the ropes with all his strength to restrain him, while the Broken Arrow, Oklahoma native shouted at the top of his lungs at Voss.

"Yanno somethin' motor mouth, I don't like punks like you! Too busy talkin', not enough walkin'. And ya'all know talk is cheap. Ya did knock me outta tha battle royal, over tha top rope. Where I come from, in Broken Arrow, that don't stop the wrasslin'. So hows 'bout ya shut yer damn yapper an' we settle up?" Slade was so infuriated his face started turning red as some fans rushed toward the ring, but the leader of his new team knew he had to take charge of this situation as GFS pushed Slade back.

"NO! This isn't going to happen. Calm down right now Joe." The quietly dangerous GFS roared loudly with his raspy voice and the look of pure anger was in his eyes while he held Joe back with one hand but turned around and faced J. Leslie Voss. Slowly, the former All-Star Championship Wrestling standout stalked toward Vossman, though the big man didn't take a step backwards. Now both men were face to face, with Voss having the height advantage by four inches. God's Forgotten Son looked down at J. Leslie's right hand where the microphone could be found and then ripped it from his grasp, GFS rose it up to his bottom lip before he spoke.

"I'm only going to tell you this one time Vossman and one time only, don't you ever disrespect me or my family again. If you do and I hear about it, whether its in Legion or anywhere else in the world, I will find you. And I'll see to it that your name, legacy and very existence will be wiped away from the wrestling business, permanently. Trust me." The way God's Forgotten Son spoke with eerie confidence disturbed J. Leslie Voss a little bit, honestly. But Voss, thinking back to his own family and the tribulations he had experienced, on top of the fact that he never liked losing a verbal sparring match with anyone... well, the real J. Leslie Voss had to respect what GFS said. Vossman simply nodded that he understood.

"Ok, now we don't need to be arguing or fighting. I choose each of you on this team for a specific reason, no matter what order you were chosen or what happened in the battle royal between us, got it? All you and everyone else around the world needs to know right now, is that I have created the team that I wanted. This group of men, Team Winters Inc., will be the cohesive unit as it had been in the past few years. This will be the team that will hold up the Dunn cup championship when it's all said and done. And there's nothing that Nibi Augustin, Jonathan Wilson or Brian Spaes could do to prevent that from happening." God's Forgotten Son dropped the microphone as static rang through the speakers, and then GFS extended his right hand toward J. Leslie Voss while he smirked deviously. Cautious at first, Vossman firmly shook his captain's hand and returned the smirk. GFS motioned for Slade and Voss to the same as Slade fought back some lingering hostility before the two shook hands with extremely intensity, while they exchanged some private words.

All three men exited the ring together as their fourth member, Longshot waited on the Church's areana floor as they all walked up the entrance way to the backstage area. However, The Ratings Riot hung back a little bit as Voss noticed the attention he was getting. While he looked at the fans and the media still in the Church of Fight, J. Leslie Voss shouted at the top of his lungs before he disappeared behind the black curtain.

"...so keep your hands inside the vehicle if you're riding this here money train, sunshine, coz this train stops in Winnersville... AY-KAY-AY: VossTown!"

And so the team's where set for this, the first season back.

Nibi Augustin and...



Brian Spaes and...



God's Forgotten Son and...



Jonathan Wilson and...



It had certainly proved to be an eventful Sunday in Brooklyn.