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Na Na Na - My Chemical Romance


Listen up!
The future is bulletproof
The aftermath is secondary!
It’s time to do it now and do it loud.
Killjoys, Make some noise!

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na

Na Na Na by My Chemical Romance began blaring over the speakers as Boxer Anarchy stepped out from behind the curtains amiss red smoke. He held a briefcase high above his head as the crowd rained boos down on him. He just looked on with a grin.



Drugs, gimme drugs, gimme drugs, I don’t need it
But I’ll sell what you got, take the cash and I’ll keep it
Eight Legs to the wall, hit the gas, kill them all
And we crawl and we crawl and we crawl
You be my detonator

Love, gimme love, gimme love I don’t need it
But I take what I want from your heart and I’ll keep it
In a bag, in a box, put an X on the Floor
Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more
Shut up and sing it with me

Boxer ran down the ramp, uncharacteristically stopping to high five the children in "Anarchy Army" shirts, now sold at ShopWWFG.com! He ran up to the camera and feigned a punch right at the lens that caused the cameraman to stagger back a few steps. Boxer laughed at him, wondering how he hadn't caught on yet. For the television audience the camera angle jumped between Boxer making his entrance and the titantron, much like D-Generation X’s entrance.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(From mall security)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(To every enemy)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(We’re on your property)
Standing in V Formation

The demon hopped up onto the apron as the crowd showered him with a mix of both boos and cheers. Boxer turned around and stuck up his middle finger waving it across the crowd before pointing it and yelling something inaudible into the camera.

"Introducing first, from Battery City. Weighing in at 235 pounds, he is one half of the WWFG Tag Team Champions and the leader of Chaos Unleashed. BOXER ANARCHY!"

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(Let’s blow an artery)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(Get plastic surgery)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na
(Keep your apology)
Give us more detonation!

More, gimme more, gimme more

At that point the music began to fade out as Boxer entered the ring. "The following match is just a formality for me. I am going to win Money in the Bank, it's why I allowed Mr. Hiako to become the tag champion. This briefcase in my hands is just a placeholder for the real thing and that briefcase is a place holder for the world championship."

Salem was only just starting to get up to his feet when Boxer's fists struck him square in the back, knocking the breath back out of Salem's chest and sending the Charismatic Calamity back to his knees. The crowd didn't appear very enthused with seeing the rookie cut down by Boxer's continued assault, grasping Salem by the hair to show off the wince of pain that had washed over his face. But, as Boxer turned Salem around to prepare the Gogoplata, the intrepid Mr. Croft would make his case for dominance in the match...clutching Boxer's ribs while driving his shoulder forward, attempting to run The Anarchist back-first into the nearest turnbuckle!

Salem grunted as he felt Boxer's back collide with the corner post, driving Salem himself into The Anarchist with enough force to break the man's attempted submission. Momentarily, the balance of power had shifted back in Salem's direction, but the charasmatic rookie needed to capitalize on his moment of opportunity. Thus, putting Boxer's head to one side of Salem's waist while the rookie initiated a double-underhook, the raven-haired rebel ran up the nearby rungs of the corner before jumping off at the top rope, trying to plant Boxer's face in the canvas with a breathtaking Double-Underhook DDT.

Salem was being overzealous, and Boxer knew it. Thus, it was a great surprise to the rookie when he came off the ropes with no Boxer in-tow, falling unceremoniously to his back against the cold, hard canvas. The ring trembles slightly during the moment Salem's spine struck the canvas, and in that instant the Charismatic Calamity flopped like a fish from the impact, wincing painfully while Boxer approached and took shots at his ribs with the toe of his boot. Clutching his abdomen, Salem struggled to endure the strikes for a moment longer, re-formulating his tactics behind his squinted eyes.

Salem winced in pain on the canvas, each stomp from Boxer's feet taking the breath from his lungs as he repeatedly kicked at the Charismatic Calamity's ribs. The look of malice and ill-intent on Boxer's face was palpable, and it wasn't long before the fans started to boo the upcoming Anarchy for his unsportsmanlike attack. To this, however, The Anarchist merely turned to face the fans, laughing in their faces at how feeble and helpless they were to do anything about it. "This is MY house!" Boxer exclaimed, boldly asserting himself while Salem lay gripping his aching ribs on the dusty canvas at his feet. Reaching down, Boxer grasped Salem by the hair and dragged him upright, slinging him towards the ropes with a forceful Irish Whip.

Salem could do little to prevent Boxer from bringing him back to a vertical base, wincing from the way his hair was being tugged at by Boxer's ruthless grip. Thrown forward, Salem tried to take the moment of opportunity to brace his body, knowing he'd have to contend with his opponent's planned assault when he rebounded from the ropes. Thus, when Salem turned and leaned back into the sleeved cables, he focused on Boxer intently whilst running back towards the center ring. Upon getting within arms-reach, Boxer extended one forearm out, making his limb stiff like a board in attempt to shoulder Salem down with a vicious clothesline. But the nimble rookie still had some pep in his step, narrowly ducking underneath the straightened arm to continue on towards the opposite side of the ring.

The close-encounter had sparked a bit of liveliness in Salem's demeanor, coming off the ropes a second time with a bit more energy than he'd had when Boxer initially threw him into the ropes. Turning around to face Salem once again, Boxer appeared angry that his initial lariat had been a miss, looking to exact a degree of vengeance by charging forward to deliver a signature spear - the Dreamcrusher - while his opponent was coming back from the ringside. But just as it appeared Boxer was about to split Salem in half, the rookie lashed an arm around the neck of Mr. Anarchy at the last second, falling back from the Dreamcrusher's impact to convert the move into a signature of his own - Instant Karma, a Slingshot DDT. Having eaten each other's finishers, the pair of impressive athletes laid against the mat...Boxer, his face lifeless after having been driven head-first into the unforgiving canvas, half-draped over Salem, who was too busy holding onto his ribs once again after Boxer's unforgiving spear to realize the referee was starting to count.

"One...! Two...!" the official began, Salem grunting as he shouldered up, rolling Boxer onto his back as he tried to cover the stunned stable leader, fans having been in an uproar since their highlight-worthy collision.

"One!" the ref counted, slapping his hand to the mat. "Two!"

Before the judge could tap the canvas a third time, the motionless Boxer managed to shoulder out, sending Salem over to his back as the two fought to catch their breath, fans cheering with hopes that one of them would make it back up to their feet. Meanwhile, the referee had taken to begin counting to ten, the match possibly ending in a no-contest should neither man manage to get back to their feet. Slowly, however, Boxer and Salem both started to crawl back up to their knees and feet at similar paces, staring each other down all the while before locking up in the center ring, grappling with a collar-and-elbow tie-up.

At first, neither man appeared to be getting an edge on the other, each one trying to assert their strength by pushing the other towards the ropes. This duel of strength went on for a brief moment before Boxer ducked underneath Salem's raised elbow, wrapping the man's neck up with a side headlock. Wrenching the hold in for a moment, Boxer growled as he forced Salem's eyes shut from the painful torque applied to his neck, only to hook the leg closest to Salem's waist around his calf, jerking Salem back with a powerful Russian Leg Sweep that shook the canvas. Kipping up once more, Boxer beat his chest and mocked the audience that booed him, walking over to the ropes to lean over and jeer at those in the front rows. Unbeknownst to him, however, Salem starting to get up to his feet behind Boxer's back, shaking his arms and legs in preparation for a charge to the ropes, hoping to clothesline the The Demon over the ropes and out of the ring.

Turning around just before the M.W. Deuce could capitalize with a surprise attack, however, Boxer ducked Salem's arm just as he had done to his lariat, prior, causing Salem to roll over the top rope and onto the ring apron, clutching the cable to maintain his balance. Angered partially at himself for having lost sight of Salem, but mostly at the brave rookie for having interrupted his moment to gloat to the audience, Boxer once again grabbed hold of Salem's hair, getting up into Salem's face to admonish him for the intrusion. However, Salem swiftly brought a hard right fist up towards Boxer's chin, breaking the man's hold on his head while lashing his left arm around his opponent's neck, the crowd popping at the prospect of a high-impact maneuver from the apron. Grasping the back of Boxer's pants with his left hand, Salem leaned back while keeping his grip on Boxer's neck, dragging the man over the ropes as he fell back-first towards the arena floor. A collective gasp rang out through the arena as the sight of Salem driving Boxer's face into the thin layer of padding played across the Titantron, a modified variation of Salem's finisher - the Guillotine DDT.

"One!" the referee counted, both men having been laid out once more after having tangled with one another, this time on the outside of the squared circle. Fans nearest the pair were on their feet, leaning over the barricade to get video and pictures of the two following the sick spot, which was still being replayed for the cheap seats on the big screen. Still, their excitement failed to revive either competitor, their bodies mangled and aching from the brutal fashion at which they were tearing into one another. Despite his fatigue, however, Salem crawled over towards the nearby stairs, using them to help himself up to his feet while Boxer lay motionless, possibly concussed on the matted concrete.

By this point, the count had reached five, and it would take until the stroke of seven before Salem had the stamina in him to stagger over to Boxer's body, starting to stir slightly as he was roused from his momentary slumber by the glaring set lights above. Grabbing a handful of the man's green hair, Salem let out a groan of exertion as he heaved the man up, tossing him over towards the apron to roll Boxer back into the ring. Following behind, Salem slid underneath the bottom rope, fans starting to cheer while he shambled over to Boxer, doing all that he could to attempt a cover while he was still nearly lifeless following the neck-breaking DDT to the outside. Dropping to the mat, the referee watched Boxer's shoulders while Salem chested up to his downed enemy.

"One...two...THREE!" the official counted, signalling for the bell as Salem rolled off Boxer, taking a well-deserved break to look up at the ceiling with a tired, pained look on his face. This reprieve didn't last long, though, as the official immediately came over to help Salem back up, raising his hand in victory.

"Your winner for this contest and Money In The Bank Qualifier..." the announcer said over the intercom, a healthy dose of applause from the fans trying to drown out the man's deep voice. "...the "Most Wanted Man in Wrestling", Salem Croft!"

Cradling his abdomen with his spare arm, Salem managed a smile while taking in one of the few times the F:G Universe had embraced him, since this tirade he'd began against Cyrus and the company as a whole. Though his actions were condemnable, his performance in the ring tonight had earned their praise for just a second, and it felt good to have his athleticism appreciated for a change. Staggering over towards the corner he'd first entered through, Salem would pick up his change jar from the apron and slide down out of the ring from under the bottom rope, turning his back to the stage so he could gesture to the Wrestlemania marquis that hung above the ring.

"I'm on my way!" Salem shouted, sweat still running down his face while he struggled to catch his breath enough to talk without the use of a microphone. "Just you people see! I'm going to tear down these false messiahs one by one! I'm going to show you what a real competitor is like! What a real champion is like!"

Backing slowly up the ramp as he talked, Salem ignored those along the sides who reached out and called for him, eager to have some interaction with the rising rookie superstar. Instead, he seemed more preoccupied with staring at that sign, thoughts of his future swirling in his head. So close, yet so far away...Money In The Bank was an event that could make or break someone's career, and the chance it held at validating Salem's presence in the WWF:G made the Charismatic Calamity nearly salivate with anticipation. Bringing his spare hand down from the Wrestlemania advertisement, Salem instead thrusted it towards the fans that were on each side of the main stage, nearing the curtain.

"You can't stop me!" Salem challenged, fishing two pennies from his jar and tossing them onto the stage, looking back towards Boxer who was only just getting up to his feet. Staring him down, Salem turned back towards the curtain, starting to make his way backstage.

"...And that's my two cents." Salem said before vanishing behind the drape.