OCW Presents: Decadence
LIVE! Sunday, January 29th, 2023
FROM the OCW Arena
IN Key West, Florida

We open up to an opulent ball room. It’s lit up and filled with people dressed in their finest. They wine. They dine. They dance. An orchestra performs on stage. It’s high society.

But, something isn’t quite right.

The footage, in black and white, glitches a bit. It statics. In between glitches we catch the briefest glimpse of what looks like the same ballroom, only abandoned, dilapidated – forgotten.

This goes on as the scene plays out. Familiar faces dressed for the event pass across our television screens.

We see PIC. We see Sahara. We see Bifford (with lots of very well cooked, expensive ham). We see Alice. We even see SYNN. They may not all fit the archetype but they are there, taking part, adding to the richness of the evening.

Awards are handed out. Champions are recognized. It’s a celebration of those who have reached the absolute pinnacle of their industry.

The film continues to glitch.

A toast is offered by Marcus Welsh to all who attend. Before he can get more than a few words out of his mouth, the doors are kicked open. The people turn, shocked at the interruption.

The members of B.O.B. enter. Harmon Egan, Crash Rodriguez, Bobby Bourbon, The Nickleman, and Thunder Knuckles. Carrying cans of cheap beer, blaring loud, intrusive music. They flip over tables, take food from people’s plates, and attack anyone who dares raise a voice.

They’ve staked their claim.

PIC, Sahara, SYNN, Alice, and Bifford rise to challenge them.

Before long, an all out melee takes place, ruining the highfalutin affair. Descending elegance into chaos.

The fighting rages on before slowly fading out.

We get a shot of the ballroom once more. All pristine and prepped for an elegant affair.

Will OCW stave off the members of B.O.B.? Can they maintain the promotion’s dignity in the face of what has slowly grown into one of the biggest threats in company history? Can Sahara retain her Paradigm Championship against Crash? Will SYNN topple the undefeated Craze Champion? The Hall of Fame duo of Alice Knight and Bifford...can they dethrone the seemingly unbeatable tag team champions? And, will PIC continue to build upon his already legendary run?

Or.

Static. Glitch. The ballroom transitions into a broken down, old, ignored space. Forgotten by time. Lost in the chaos of a cataclysmic event.

Will Harmon Egan’s win streak continue? Can Crash defeat Sahara for a second time...this time with everything on the line? Can the tag champions defeat not one but TWO OCW Hall of Famers en route to retaining their tag titles? And, will Thunder Knuckles, of all people, be the one to dethrone PIC?

Tonight, everything is at stake.

The future of the company.

It’s tradition.

It’s history.

Tonight B.O.B. seeks to capture not one, not two, but all FOUR OCW Championships. And, if they are able to accomplish this feat, the company will never, ever be the same.

Decadence is the moral or cultural decline as characterized by excessive indulgence in pleasure or luxury.

OCW has long flaunted its banner, inviting any and every wrestling personality with the confidence to test themselves against the most talented, creative roster in this industry.

But, has OCW gone too far?

Has the company overreached?

We kick off the new year by remembering and celebrating the closure of the previous one. Simultaneously, we take one, giant step ahead into the year to come. A step that could lead to the greatest year in company history.

Or, a step that could lead into the company’s rapid decline.

The stakes have never been higher.

It’s time to fight. It’s time for Decadence.

~And from that intro we cut into the OCW Arena! The fans are on their feet, cheering. The setup isn’t like anything we’ve seen during our previous events...especially within the home arena in Key West. Fans fill the mid and upper levels of seating. But, around the ring, we spot dozens of round tables with well dressed VIP fans. They are dressed for the occasion. They are dressed to celebrate OCW. The ring is in its usual location. Although instead of the usual black and red scheme...we get black and white. Above the ring we spot the two, giant glass balls that will be used for the opening match. The fans in the mid and upper levels are on their feet chanting ‘OCW!’ while the fans in the lower level, seated at their tables, enjoying their elegant champagne and precisely cooked prime rib, politely clap. A quick pan shows the entire arena to be consistent with the aforementioned setup...it also catches OCW security confiscating some signs from fans. We land on Smith and Hood at ringside. Smith is dressed for the affair...Hood is sporting a shirt that reads “No alcohol for me, just drugs, thanks.” Classy.~

Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Decadence! OCW’s first Pay Per View event of 2023!

Hood: New year, same ole shit.

Smith: As you can see, Marcus Welsh rented out the lower portion of the arena to VIP fans. High priced tickets to sit in style with an up close and personal view of tonight’s festivities!

Hood: I don’t know who would want to sit like that for a wrestling show but, hey, to each their own.

Smith: We’ve got a tremendous card tonight, folks. One that will certainly lay the foundation, set the tone, if you will, for the new year. An opening match that will boost someone into the upper-mid card...and then, four championship matches...all with one, common element.

Hood: A Bastard!

Smith: Yes, there is a very real chance that the bastards leave with EVERY active title in the company at tonight’s end. It starts with Harmon Egan looking to hold serve against SYNN.

Hood: Marcus Welsh did Egan no favors with that stipulation.

Smith: He certainly did not. Not only is Egan’s title on the line. Not only is his undefeated record on the line. But, if he manages to overcome the odds and win...he will face the OCW Champion at March’s PPV event!

Hood: Huge stakes for the little guy. We’ll see if he can handle the pressure. So far, so good.

Smith: And, as for SYNN? Well, this is her moment to break into the upper midcard. Her shot at dethroning the second most dominant wrestler in the company. This is the type of win that turns a new face into a bonafied star.

Hood: Face? With all that paint I don’t know how anybody could see a face...but whatever. Yea, she’s got some talent. More than most of these Craze contenders we throw Egan’s way.

Smith: After that, we’ll get a heavy dose of Tag Team action as the Bastards put their tag titles on the line against a team of two OCW legends...The Big Bifford and Alice Knight.

Hood: Once again, Welsh stacks the deck against the bastards. He knows those tag titles are the HEART and SOUL of that stable...so he throws two lovable fuck ups against them. And you know how lucky lovable fuckups get in OCW? They thrive around these parts.

Smith: It’s the biggest challenge for B.O.B. A threat unlike any they’ve seen since capturing the belts. These two teams will compete in the first ever RELEASE THE KRAKEN match. Each team must pick a partner to be chained to their corner. The other partner must them remove a key from the opposing team’s top turnbuckle and then use it to unlock their partner from their restraints. If and when they are able to do so...both members will be legal competitors.

Hood: You forgot the best part. When you are freed you must yell RELEASE THE KRAKEN to be eligible.

Smith: How dare I forget such an important detail.

Hood: It’s the name of the fuckin match, man!

Smith: If B.O.B. can hold serve and retain in those two matches, they’ll enter the final portion of our event with a very real shot at leaving with every OCW title. Crash Rodriguez is set to face Sahara for the Paradigm Championship...and, I know Sahara is on a dominant run...but these two have faced before and Crash came out victorious.

Hood: Yep, he’s got the psychological advantage over the champion. A lot of people think 2023 is the year where Crash takes that next step. Defeating Sahara in the penultimate match and walking away with the Paradigm Championship would go a long way in fulfilling those predictions.

Smith: That is true but every time Sahara has had to defend her title, she’s come through. It seems there’s a different focus to the Paradigm Champion whenever the ‘money’ is on the line. These two will also be forced to compete under an Extremely Enforced Rules Match. Meaning...nothing, not even the slightest eye gouge...low blow...closed fist...nothing outside the rulebook realm will fly.

Hood: Another shot by Welsh fired at the bastards.

Smith: This hurts Sahara as much, if not more, if you ask me. She’s not exactly known for playing by the rules.

Hood: All I know is this might be the piss break portion of the show. No low blows? Fuck outta here with that shit.

Smith: And that leads us to our main event! If you think this is a Bar Room Brawl then you need to read more carefully. It’s a BALL ROOM BRAWL and it’s for the OCW Championship. PIC is on a tear...a tear very reminiscent of Outcast, Matt Meyhu, Scott Syren. The man has been virtually unbeatable since returning last May.

Hood: He’s faced them all. He’s taken them all. But tonight he’s got a challenge unlike any he’s face before. He must face the leader of the bastards and he must face him in a very bastardly element.

Smith: If Welsh is truly out to get the bastards then I’m not sure why he picked this stipulation. My only guess would be his confidence in PIC is sky high. But yes, these two will brawl it out inside an empty ball room. Falls count anywhere. The winner will leave with the OCW Championship.

Hood: A potential death blow to the company if TK were to walk out with this thing. I know he signed a contract stating he couldn’t bring the OCW Title onto any other pro wrestling programming...but, he’s a bastard.

Smith: That he is. As if that weren’t enough, you’ve got the added element of TLS. Will he cash in tonight and ruin the winner’s evening?

Hood: Seems like something he might do. Then again, he might feel cute and decide to do it later. With that man the unpredictable is the predictable.

Smith: A tense evening, for most in OCW. An evening that’s set to be full of violence, heartbreak, and triumph. Last January we fought on the streets of Detroit with uncertainty in the air. Tonight? The atmosphere is the same...although the venue is much different. Folks, it’s time to get underway as our opening match is a New Year’s Ball and it’s set to get 2023 kicked off to a rocking start!

Hood: WTF we got eight people in this thing?

Smith: Yes. I’m told it’s going to be elimination rules. Last second change.

Hood: Yea, it’d be kinda chaotic...ONE FALL with 8 people. Fuck me. That’s a lot of entrances. Mind if I get a quick round of golf in?

Smith: You’re staying right here! We’re gonna get this in-ring action started soon...but first, I’m told we need to cut backstage!

~Your screen shows a Mercedes G63 Armored Limousine pulled up in the wrestler's parking area at OCW Arena. The driver gets out, walks to the back door, and opens it. Out steps Thunder Knuckles looking as confident as ever~

Hood: Ha! Who shows up in a Mercedes G63 Armored Limousine, what a badass!

Smith: Just moments ago the arrival of Thunder Knuckles. Hood, what is it about this guy that has sent him on a rocket ship to the top?

~TK tips the driver with a couple of hundred dollar bills and starts to slowly walk to the backstage entrance~

Hood: Easy. The balls on this guy are huge! He came into this company without a contract and won the Tag Team Championships with the Nickleman.

~Continuing to walk slowly TK is now in the hallways of the backstage area. A fan stops him and asks him for an autograph. A smile forms on TK’s face and takes a poster and sharpie from the fan. The fan looks really happy, but it doesn’t last long… TK rips the poster and tosses the Sharpie behind him, laughing in the fan's face. Noticing a sound grip, TK asks~

TK: Where’s this fucking Ballroom?

~The grip points in the direction of the Ballroom and TK heads that way~

Hood: After winning Tag Team gold he calls out the World Champion, everyone wants to watch him. With his lack of discipline and “F” you attitude, coupled with the fact he's been impressive here in OCW, people just want to see him!

Smith: He’s walking mighty slowly. Do you think what happened on the twenty-third is having an impact on him here tonight?

Hood: I doubt it. Despite his hatred for the rules Thunder Knuckles is a true professional. He’s probably just conserving energy.

~TK is still walking slowly down the hallway, looking behind every door for the Ballroom~

Smith: I want to point out that he showed up here tonight without his Brothers in the Bastards. Do you think that means something?

Hood: Are you kidding me, Smith? It shows he’s focused! You wouldn’t be making a big deal out of this if this was PIC, would you?

~The video feed of Thunder Knuckles walking around the backstage area fades to Smith and Hood at the announcer's desk~

Smith: Nevertheless, we’re in for an exciting Main Event!

Hood: Damn right, we are!

Smith: Alright, let’s head down to ringside and get tonight started...Decadence is officially underway!

New Year’s Ball Match
Dylan Thomas (20-16) vs. Diana Watts (3-4) vs. Phoenix LeStrange (0-2) vs. Bob Grenier (22-18) vs. The Standard (3-0) vs. Delia Black (1-0) vs. Moonlight Rose (5-2) vs. Killian Neville (0-0)

~The fans are on their feet, stoked for the action to begin. An “OCW” chant fills up the arena as Belvedere, standing proud and strong in the ring, is ready to begin the evening~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Decadence!!

~HUGE POP~

Belvedere: It is now time for our opening context!! This is a New Year’s Ball Match. It is a multi person, elimination style match with two glass spheres hanging above the ring. Every few minutes the spheres will drop and open up allowing a wrestler to enter. Once inside, the spheres will ascend, allowing the wrestler time to rest, recuperate, etc. However, while the wrestler cannot be attacked in the sphere...they also cannot win the match in that sphere. The final wrestler standing will be declared victorious and will challenge for the OCW Craze Championship!! Introducing first…

~'Watch Me Shine' – Fozzy hits! The fans give a strong reaction for Dylan...a familiar face kickstarting the first PPV of 2023!! Thomas steps out from behind the curtain with Lissandra. He gives her a hug and a kiss before leaving her behind and heading to the ring. The man is focus. He embodies perfection...hell he personifies it. He reaches the ring and slides in, fired up~

Belvedere: From Hollywood, California...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 225lbs...he is a former Savage and Craze Champion...he is Dylan Thomas!!!

~”Joker” by Dax hits! A minimal reaction from the fans as Phoenix LeStrange steps out from behind the curtain. She’s got her pink hair and innocent (but seductive) look going on. She sticks her tongue out as she skips to the ring. Dylan looks on, pacing around the ring, shaking his head at what passes as wrestling these days~

Belvedere: And, introducing next...from HaVeN...standing 5’3 and weighing in at 115lbs...she is a member of HaVeN...she is Phoenix LeStrange!!

~LeStrange slides into the ring...she gets to her knees and looks up at Dylan with wide, seductive eyes. Dylan looks back with a puzzled expression. Belvedere exits and the bell sounds. The fans go wild~

Smith: And we’re underway!

Hood: Huh? Aren’t there, like, six other competitors?

Smith: I’m told they’ll come out every time the spheres drop. Or, a new one will, anyway.

Hood: When did THAT change…

Smith: I dunno, I think whoever is in charge didn’t want to put together six more intros and just changed the rules on a whim...plus they might’ve watched a rumble last night and thought this format might be cooler.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~LeStrange looks around like ‘Wait a minute, aren’t there six more…’ before getting a boot to the face!! The fans go wild! They obviously aren’t too enamored with this fetish shit. LeStrange hits the mat, dazed. Dylan pulls her to her feet and whips her into a corner, she hits hard. Dylan charges in and smashes her with a clothesline! The fans cheer! “DYLAN! DYLAN!” Dylan steps back...Phoenix stumbles forward and he hoists her up and over with a huge back body drop~

Smith: Feels like a shotgun start. Dylan was ready. Phoenix wasn’t.

Hood: She was too busy trying to get a seductive pose ready for instagram or whatever.

Smith: Yea, I don’t think she got the memo that the match was starting right now.

Hood: Well, Dylan did...so I’m sure she wasn’t paying attention.

~Phoenix crawls to the ropes, using them to get to her feet. She does and turns around only to get grabbed by Dylan and dropped with PERFECT FINISHER (double knee gutbuster)!!! Phoenix is down!! The fans go wild!! Dylan makes the cover, Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Belvedere: Phoenix LeStrange has been Eliminated!!!

~Huge pop for Dylan as the fans count the three along with Scruff!! Phoenix is pushed out of the ring by Scruff. Dylan gets to his feet and he looks around, feeding off the energy...he hasn’t even broken a sweat~

Smith: He’s in great shape and, well, he’s already trimmed his list from 8 to 7 without expending any energy!

Hood: Dude might run the gauntlet.

Smith: It’s very possible...now we just...well, here we go!

~The lights in the arena dim as the two spheres lower. Dylan moves to get out of the way...they both lower next to each other in the center of the ring. The doors pop open...Dylan inspects them but waves them off, “Get that back up there! Bring me an opponent!” he yells, to a huge ovation~

Belvedere: Introducing next…

~The lights return to normal as the spheres raise back above the ring. “Send Me Your Money” by Suicidal Tendencies hits! The fans start to boo as they see DELIA BLACK emerge from behind the curtain, making her way down the ramp~

Belvedere: From The Murder Captial of the World, Santa Carla, California...standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs...she is one half of The Influence...she is Delia Black!!!

~Delia reaches the ring and pauses. Dylan, showing some respect, backs off and lets her enter safely...she does, sliding in and reaching her feet. The two wrestlers circle one another before locking up! Dylan’s strength pushes Delia into a corner. She tries to fight him off but he lifts a knee into her midsection. He then whips her across the ring...she reverses...but then he reverses...she hits the corner front first and staggers back, right into Dylan’s arms as he catches her and tosses her over his head with a Release German Suplex!!! She flips over, sits up and then falls to the mat. Dylan kips up to a huge ovation from the fans~

Smith: Delia Black is our third competitor and, like Phoenix, she’s being taught a wrestling lesson by Perfection Personified!

Hood: Telling ya, Dylan might go wire to wire.

Smith: Delia has had some mental issues wince vanishing. I’m told she seemed more herself tonight. So, hopefully she’s got all that sorted.

Hood: You mean you actually waste time getting to know those two? Hey, you do you, man.

~Delia backs into a corner...Dylan stalks her. She puts her hands up, asking for a reprieve...but Dylan is not going to give her any. He grabs her by the hair and yanks her to her feet. She throws a short kick into his midsection...but he catches her foot, brings her in and tosses her over with a Capture Suplex!! Delia lands hard, arching her back in pain. Dylan swivels his hips and smoothly rotates back to his feet, arms extended, taking in the cheers of the fans as they chant “DYLAN! DYLAN! DYLAN!”~

Smith: A true showcase for Dylan Thomas thus far.

Hood: Yea, Delia wanted a break but after losing to both Tearra Skye AND Diana Watts...I don’t think Dylan is going to go easy on the ladies from this point forward.

Smith: And, well, he shouldn’t. They’re every bit as dangerous as the men.

Hood: Sure thing, pal.

~Dylan turns his attention back to Delia...but the lights dim!!! The spheres start to lower! Dylan moves out of the way, looking up~

Belvedere: And, introducing the next competitor…

~Master of Illusion by Battle Beast hits! The fans BOOOOO!!! Killian Neville steps out from behind the curtain. He casts a condescending look out at the crowd, generating more heat~

Belvedere: From Liverpool, England... weighing in 175 pounds... "The King Cobra"... KILLIAN NEVILLE!

~The lights return to normal. Dylan, standing near the ropes, staring up the ramp, sees who the next opponent is and then turns to handle Delia. But, she’s gone. He looks up and sees her locked inside a sphere~

Smith: Delia Black said ‘screw this’ and hopped inside one of the spheres for protection!

Hood: Can you blame her? Dylan was tossing her around like she owed him money!

Smith: Well, she’ll be up there safe and sound until the next competitor emerges.

~Dylan looks up at Delia as if to say, ‘Really?’ Delia just ignores him, leaning back in the glass sphere and taking a breath. Killian hits the ring and spins Dylan around, punching him with right hands! He’s got Dylan stumbling. He shoves Dylan into the ropes and whips him off...Dylan sprints across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and charging at Killian...Neville grabs Dylan and hooks him for a belly to belly...but Dylan breaks free and takes Killian from behind for a German. Killian, however, drops to all fours and crawls back between Dylan’s legs. Dylan spins around and he eats a dropkick!!! Thomas staggers back into a corner. Neville pops back to his feet and he hustles forward, rushing in and delivering a knife edged chop to Dylan’s chest! It echoes throughout the arena as Thomas clutches his chest in pain. We get a shot above of Delia looking down like, “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.” Neville then grabs Dylan by the head and takes him over with a snap mare! Dylan lands on his ass, seated in the center of the ring. Neville then steps forward and dropkicks Dylan in the back of the head! Thomas falls to his side, clutching his head in pain~

Smith: Wow. Killian Neville is looking...dare I say...impressive?

Hood: It’s like someone told him he actually had a wrestling match tonight.

Smith: We’ve always heard this man had talent. It’s just, well, he’s always looked disinterested in the ring. Tonight, however, he looks like he cares.

Hood: Well, that’s great. But it’s hard to suddenly turn it on like that and compete at this level. We’ll see if Killian is the exception rather than the rule.

~Neville doesn’t fuck around...he pulls Dylan back to his feet and boots him in the gut. He then brings him in and hoists him up for a vertical suplex! It’s a delayed suplex! He holds him in the air for awhile...Dylan’s legs stretch up...his feet kick the bottom of the sphere with Delia...she yelps and moves. Killian stumbles a bit...his face reddens...Dylan’s getting heavier and heavier...he then gets all straight, holds it and then falls back dropping Dylan HARD with a delayed vertical suplex!! Dylan hits and rolls onto his stomach, eyes shut. Killian lays back, sucking wind, his face red from the strength it took to pull that move off~

Smith: What strength by Neville!

Hood: Thomas’ feet were hitting the bottom of that sphere with Delia. Those things aren’t THAT high.

Smith: High enough, though.

~Neville gets back to his feet. Dylan crawls towards the nearest corner. Neville grabs him by the hair and pulls him up...he then starts to slam Dylan face first into the top buckle. As he does, the lights dim...the spheres start to lower. Neville doesn’t break his concentration, dead set on crushing Dylan’s face in this top buckle. Dylan, however, delivers an elbow into Neville’s gut. Killian stumbles back. Dylan can’t follow through, he rests his head on the top buckle, sucking wind~

Belvedere: And, introducing next…

~Willie Deville - So Easy hits! The fans pop as DIANA WATTS steps out from behind the curtain!! She pauses for a moment before yelling ‘THAT’S WATTS UP!’ before hustling down the ramp~

Belvedere: From Cleveland, Ohio...standing 5’6 and weighing in at 115lbs...Diana Watts!!!

~The spheres reach the ring. Both doors open...Delia looks and sees Diana charging to the ring. She then pulls the door back shut, nope-ing straight outta any of that. The spheres raise back up with the lights returning to normal as Diana slides into the ring. She gets to her feet and turns toward Dylan! Dylan turns and sees her heading his way...he reaches for her, but she blocks his hands away and kicks him in the gut. She then hits him with an uppercut! Dylan leans back. Diana then kicks away at his midsection. Killian leans against the ropes, watching~

Smith: There’s some history with Diana and Dylan. Diana defeated Dylan in her debut match, I believe...a match that appeared to set her on the fast track to stardom.

Hood: Only, it didn’t. And, it also really hurt Dylan’s confidence.

Smith: Yep, both wrestlers look back on that match with anything BUT fond memories. The demise that followed seemingly linked together.

~Neville catches his wind and he heads to the corner. He helps Diana beat Dylan up. Diana with the kicks...Neville with some punches. Diana then backs up...across the ring, into the opposite corner. Neville gets what she’s wanting...so he whips Dylan out of the corner. Diana fires out of her corner at Dylan...but Dylan flies through the air with a knee! BAM! Right in Diana’s face!! Diana hits the mat!!! She rolls out of the ring, holding her face in pain! Dylan then spins around to go after Killian only to get run over with a clothesline. The fans boo~

Smith: Neville once again! He’s got Dylan’s number tonight.

Hood: One of those calculating, cerebral dudes. I like this guy. Go ahead and reserve me a spot in the Killian Neville fan club.

Smith: A little premature to back him that hard, Hood. We still only have one elimination in this match.

Hood: I don’t care...PUT ME IN HIS FAN CLUB

Smith: Okay, fine, calm down.

~Killian pulls Dylan back to his feet and BASHES him with a forearm uppercut!! Dylan stumbles into the ropes. Killian approaches but Dylan dives his head in and headbutts Neville! Killian staggers back. Dylan tries to move forward but Diana has his leg in her arms! He struggles to get free...which allows Killian to recover and dive in with a shoulder thrust! Dylan doubles over, face etched with pain. Killian then hooks his arms around Dylan’s waist before lifting him up and taking him over with a Gut Wrench Suplex!! Thomas lands hard, arching his back in pain. Again, we get that overhead view to see Delia in her sphere looking down, observing the action...we also see Diana walking around the ring, keeping an eye on what’s taking place~

Smith: It’s been a clinic since Killian got in there.

Hood: If Dylan Thomas is perfection personified then Killian is...umm...Excellence Exemplified!

Smith: Fail.

Hood: Lick my taint.

~Neville pulls Dylan to his feet and whips him into a nearby corner. He rushes in with a splash! The lights then dim! Killian pauses, looking up the ramp as the spheres slowly lower. Delia looks around, nervously...maybe hoping everyone forgot she was there~

Belvedere: And, introducing next…

~Where the Hood at by DMX hits! The OCW Arena explodes with cheers as former OCW Champion and Hall of Famer BOB GRENIER steps out from behind the curtain! He marches down the ramp...he’s got his fists taped. His forehead shows the scars of many, many battles. But his eyes remain as fresh as ever...focused on one thing, violence~

Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs...he is a former OCW Champion….he is in the OCW Hall of Fame. He is...Bob Grenier!!

~Killian watches Bob from inside the ring. Diana watches him from outside the ring. Dylan’s still reeling from the punishment. Bob, however, ignores both of them and keeps his eye on the sphere, watching Delia hurry to pull the door shut. The spheres start to raise. Bob hits the ring and he dives at Delia’s sphere...but he misses it...it’s just out of reach. He slaps the mat and points up at her, “There aren’t any free rides in OCW, bitch! I’ll see you soon!” The fans go wild. Bob then turns and stares down Killian Neville. He leaves Dylan behind, turning his focus to the Hall of Famer~

Smith: Bob’s our sixth competitor! Only two remain!

Hood: Yea, and he’s been watching Delia. He’s not gonna let her sit in that sphere all match long.

Smith: Nope. Bob’s been paving the highway around here for years. Hard work. Blood, sweat, tears...all that stuff. If you want it, you gotta earn it.

Hood: No shit.

~Neville and Bob circle each other. Neville then prepares for a traditional lock up...but Grenier sticks a thumb in his eye! The fans go wild!! Neville is stunned, staggering around. Bob then boots him in the groin! The fans cheer even louder! Bob pulls Killian’s hands from his face and he rakes his hands across Neville’s eyes!! Neville falls to the mat, holding his face in pain. Bob then drops to his knees and he begins choking the life out of Neville~

Smith: Okay, so Bob has figured out how to combat Killian’s cerebral in ring acumen.

Hood: Break every rule imaginable.

Smith: Indeed.

~Bob finally stops. Neville coughs, holding his throat. Bob then looks up at Dylan, who is looking down at Grenier. Bob stands and extends his arms, ‘What?!’ Dylan shrugs. Not his cup of tea but he’s not gonna get all bent out of shape about it. Annoyed, Grenier IS going to get bent out of shape. He steps over Neville and gets in Dylan’s face. Dylan doesn’t back down...these two OCW mainstays verbally joust...the fans are on their feet. They’re about to come to blows when Killian returns to his feet and he spins Bob around and punches him in the face!! Bob is stunned! Killian knees Bob in the gut and brings him in for a suplex!! He’s got him hooked...but Bob BITES Killian on the ear! Neville yells out...he loses his grip...Bob switches the power and he lifts Killian up and swiftly drops him with HOLLINGER PARK HANGMAN!!! Killian is down!! Bob makes the cover! The fans count along~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Belvedere: Killian Neville has been Eliminated!

Smith: And there goes Killian!

Hood: Shit.

Smith: Still want in that fan club?

Hood: Hey, I like the guy, alright? Not selling his stock just yet.

Smith: I’ll say, he looked good tonight. Let’s see if he can put two solid performances together.

~Neville is rolled out of the ring. Grenier returns to his feet and is immediately greeted with a high knee from Dylan!! Grenier stumbles into the ropes! Thomas whips him off the ropes...Bob sprints across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and he gets tossed over with a deep arm drag!!! Bob pops back to his feet and backs into a corner, holding his shoulder. Dylan is on his feet, bouncing around. Grenier, really pissed off at this point, charges in...but Dylan takes him down with a drop toe hold!! Bob’s face SMACKS into the mat! Dylan returns to his feet, feeling strong once again~

Smith: And Dylan’s wrestling is out dueling Bob’s brawling!

Hood: Funny how that works. But yea...first guy in there, still looking strong.

Smith: Feels like maybe he’s getting his confidence back.

Hood: With all that money and a hot as balls wife...I don’t know why he’d ever NOT be confident.

~Dylan backs up against the ropes...he measures Bob up...Bob gets to all fours...Dylan heads forward...but he falls down! We look outside and see Diana holding his leg!! She yanks Dylan out of the ring. She slings Dylan into the barricade! He hits hard! She then runs forward, blasting him in the face with a big boot that nearly sends him into the crowd. Instead, he falls to both knees...Diana then lifts a knee into his face, sending him down to the floor~

Smith: And there’s Diana! It looks as though she’s set on continuing to torment Dylan Thomas.

Hood: The bane of his insecurities. If he beats her, that would go a long way in healing. But, if she beats him...again...he might lose it.

Smith: He doesn’t have much respect for her, that’s for sure. Losing to her twice could really send him over the edge.

~Grenier crawls into a corner to take a breather. As he does, the lights dim! The fans pop, ready for another entrant. The spheres start to lower...as they do, we get a shot of Delia looking down at Bob. He looks up at her and waves with a smile. Delia reaches for the door, trying to find a way to keep it from opening~

Belvedere: And, introducing next…

~Ghost's Square Hammer hits! “oooohhhh” from the fans as the undefeated, impressive newcomer THE STANDARD steps out from behind the curtain! He looks as impressive as ever...an air of excellence surrounds him. He pauses at the top of the ramp, looking down at the ring~

Belvedere: From Manhattan, New York...standing 6’4 and weighing in at 195lbs...he is The Standard!!!

~Calmly, he makes his way to the ring. Inside, the spheres land and their doors open...Delia tries to shut hers...but Bob rushes over and kicks his foot out, keeping it from shutting. He reaches in and he yanks her out to a HUGE ovation from the fans! The spheres go back up with Delia being left behind! Bob has a handful of her hair...she looks up at him, begging him to leave her be...but he kicks her in the gut! The fans go wild! He then hoists her up over his head in a press slam...he presses her four...five...six times before tossing her down across the ropes...her throat raking across the top! She falls back, holding her throat in pain, kicking her feet. Grenier stays after her...until he’s blindsided by a boot to the side of the head!! He tumbles through the ropes falling onto the apron. The Standard is the culprit...he keeps after Bob, reaching over the top rope and pulling him to his feet~

Smith: And Delia is FINALLY being forced to compete!

Hood: Welcome to singles wrestling, babe.

Smith: Yep, there’s no partner to tag in or out. It’s all up to her.

~Back outside the ring, Diana has Dylan’s throat over the guardrail and she’s shoving down on the back of his head, choking him. She then yells in his ear, “TICK TOCK, DYLAN!” He falls down, holding his neck. Diana heads for the ring...she looks underneath and grabs a chair! The fans begin to turn on her a bit...some boos. This attitude seems a little harsh. One fan says, “Diana...why not beat up Delia instead of Dylan?” Diana acts like she’s going to hit the fan...he runs off and she yells, “YEA THAT’S WATTS UP!” She then rears back and SLAMS the chair into Dylan’s body~

Smith: Diana not endearing herself to the audience. This new attitude is, well, rather harsh.

Hood: Yea, she started out as a quirky girl who sold fish heads. Then she got on twitter and became the meanest woman ever. And now she’s back in the ring.

Smith: Like Dylan, she seemed to have a breakdown of sorts thanks to her in-ring struggles. Now she’s back in the ring and, yea, a new attitude for sure.

~With Dylan’s body wrecked Diana stops with the chair and pulls him up, slinging him back into the ring. She hops onto the apron. Delia gets to her feet and she starts to stomp on Dylan while casting a peripheral glance at Diana. Diana enters and looks at Delia stomping Dylan. Diana nods and says, “yea, that’s WATTS up.” She then stomps on Dylan as well...both women stomp Dylan into the mat to a chorus of boos. Meanwhile, The Standard grabs Bob by the hair and charges down the ropes, slamming him into the ring post, head first! Bob falls off the apron to the floor. Standard steps through the ropes, hopping off the apron to the outside to stay on top of Bob~

Smith: Delia kissing up to Diana. She’s looking for an ally.

Hood: That’s fucking smart, man. That’s how you survive.

Smith: Meanwhile, The Standard is looking to notch the most impressive pin of his short OCW career by taking Bob Grenier out.

Hood: That would be huge. If he can do it.

~The fans chant for Dylan, watching one of their favorites get stomped into oblivion. He starts to feed off the cheers...he fights Delia off! He then fights Diana off! Dylan, somehow, gets to his feet. Diana throws a superkick...but he catches her leg! She’s in trouble! But Delia blindsides him with a step up enziguri!!! Dylan is stunned!! Diana’s leg is free...she hits the ropes, bounces off and nearly decapitates Dylan with WATTS KICKIN!!!! Dylan is down!! Diana goes for the pin...Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Belvedere: Dylan Thomas has been Eliminated!!

Smith: Dang it! Dylan’s gone!

Hood: Pinned by Watts...AGAIN

Smith: This could take Dylan into a dark place, Hood. For Lissandra’s sake...for that family’s sake...let’s hope that doesn’t happen.

~Dylan is rolled out of the ring. The fans boo heavily. Diana is back on her feet, celebrating. More booing. Delia starts to celebrate with Diana. Meanwhile, we cut to The Standard...he’s got Bob over his shoulder...he tosses Bob up and drops him with SNAKE EYES onto the barricade!! Bob stumbles back, taking a seat on the steel steps. The Standard hops onto the apron...he measures Bob up and runs forward, leaping up in the air with a double foot stomp...but Bob moves!!! The Standard stomps his feet onto the steps...but he lands safe. Bob turns to face The Standard only to get taken down with a flying clothesline!! Both men crash into the barricade~

Smith: The Standard living in Bob’s world right now. A dangerous selection.

Hood: Yea, meanwhile Delia is celebrating like she just pinned Dylan.

Smith: She better not get too chummy with Diana cause once Dylan’s out of sight Diana can and will turn on her.

~Dylan is on his feet outside the ring, holding his head. He looks up into the ring and sees Diana looking down at him. Diana waves ‘goodbye’ and yells ‘that’s WATTS up!’ Delia puts her arm around Diana and she yells out, “Yea, that’s what’s up!” Diana slowly turns and looks toward Delia...Delia removes her arm and backs away. Diana stalks her...the fans are on their feet, hoping these two go at it~

Smith: Uh oh...Delia made a deal with the WATTS and now that deal is UP

Hood: We need those spheres! Delia needs her safe space!

Smith: She’s hidden enough in this one!

~With Diana stalking Delia we cut to Dylan...he turns to leave...but he pauses. He is fighting with something internally. He’s on the edge of breaking...finally, he says ‘screw it’ and he hits the ring! Diana grabs Delia by the hair and is about to slug her when Dylan delivers a double axe handle from behind! He spins a stunned Diana around and drops her with Perfect Finisher!!! The crowd pops!! Dylan leaves the ring. Delia dives on top of Diana...Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Belvedere: Diana Watts has been Eliminated!!

Smith: I can’t believe it!

Hood: Delia Black just dominated and pinned Diana Watts!

Smith: She did not! Dylan Thomas went rogue, got in there and cost Diana her shot at the Craze Title!

Hood: A man can only hear ‘that’s WATTS up’ so many times before breaking bad, Smith.

~Delia pops to her feet, arms in the air...she takes a lap around the ring, celebrating her victory. The fans boo heavily. Diana, meanwhile, rolls out of the ring, holding her abdomen in pain. Dylan is halfway up the ramp, leaving the scene, shaking his head...still battling internally. Diana sees Dylan...her full realization comes together and she charges forward...she dives onto his back, taking him down on the steel ramp! Both wrestlers tumble onto the ramp. Diana is on her feet first...but Dylan isn’t far behind. They start to trade punches...brawling up the ramp to a massive ovation from the bloodthirsty fans. Delia just watches...and then the lights start to dim~

Belvedere: And, introducing the final competitor…

Smith: Uh oh, here we go!

Hood: Any idea who it could be?

Smith: Are you serious? I think it’s pretty obvious, Hood.

Belvedere: From Tokyo, Japan...standing 5 foot nothing and weighing in at 110lbs...Moonlight Rose!!!

~Delia’s confidence fades as Meteor By SALTY DOG hits!! The fans go wild!! Moonlight Rose appears from behind the curtain. She side steps Dylan and Diana who are brawling all the way into the back. Once they are out of the way, Rose points at the ring and sprints down the ramp toward Delia! Turns around and hurries for the sphere...she dives inside one, shutting the door. Rose hits the ring...she tries to get into Delia’s sphere but can’t...so she ducks into the second one...and, for the first time all match, both spheres are occupied. They rise above the ring as the lights come back to normal. Delia sits down in her sphere while Moonlight remains standing, staring at Delia waiting eagerly for an opportunity to get after her~

Smith: Well we’re down to our final four...The Standard, Bob Grenier, Moonlight Rose...and Delia Black.

Hood: Why do you have to go and say her name like that?!

Smith: Because, she’s trying to cheese this entire thing.

Hood: Well, I mean, she does like cheese.

~The Standard is back on his feet and he’s got Bob up, as well. He whips Bob into the apron. Bob’s back hits the edge of the apron, hard. He yells, ‘FUCK’ arching his back in pain. The Standard throws a heel kick! But Bob ducks and crawls under the ring! The Standard looks around like ‘WTF’...he drops to his knees to look underneath the ring and gets blasted in the face with some ALICE KNIGHT MUSTARD! The Standard stumbles back, trying to get it out of his eyes, wondering what the fuck this vile shit is. Bob re-emerges from underneath the ring with an entire jar of OWL THIS MUSTARD. He palms it and swings it at The Standards head...but The Standard is able to regain his vision in time to dodge the disastrous blow before diving back into the ring. Bob looks on disappointed...he then dips his hand into the mustard and gets a taste...he shrugs, ‘not bad’. He tosses the jar into the crowd and returns to the ring only to get stomped on by The Standard~

Smith: I think The Standard realized he wants to keep the action with Bob inside the ring.

Hood: Yep. Bob’s a fuckin lunatic. The fewer weapons he has to use, the better.

~Bob fights to his feet through the stomps, showing the grit and toughness being an OCW veteran has taught him. He shoves The Standard back...The Standard, a little surprised Bob fought through all those stomps, reaches forward with both hands, wrapping them around Bob’s throat...taking a page out of Grenier’s playbook...but Bob takes his hands and he sticks his thumbs into The Standard’s eyes! The Standard yells out in pain, letting Bob go due to self preservation. Bob then rushes forward, grabs The Standard by the head and takes him down with a swinging neck breaker! Grenier slides out of the ring and returns to where he crawled under the ring...he pulls out a TABLE~

Smith: Bob wants a table...Bob’s gonna get a table.

Hood: After tasting that mustard maybe he wants to use this table so he can sit down and enjoy a nice sandwich.

Smith: Probably the 1067th most likely reason for Bob retrieving that table, Hood.

Hood: Hey, could’ve been lower.

~The Standard nurses his neck. Bob gets the table set up. Up above we see Moonlight Rose losing her patience as she watches Delia who...might be taking a quick nap. Moonlight decides to act...she starts to rock back and forth within her sphere. She builds some momentum. Enough that it knocks against Delia’s sphere. Delia becomes alert...she gets to her feet and looks at Moonlight saying, ‘What are you doing?!’ Moonlight continues to build momentum...a knock becomes a thud...a thud becomes a clang~

Smith: You don’t think…

Hood: Oh shit.

Smith: Surely the glass they used to make those spheres is thick enough to…

Hood: I’m sure we went with the cheapest possible glass available.

Smtih: Oh dear.

~BANG! They spheres clash...both start to crack. Delia looks on, helpless, trying to get Moonlight to stop...but Rose is on a mission...her sphere sways wayyyy back before coming forward with enough speed and then...CRASH!!! The spheres both explode!!! Glass showers down onto the ring!! The Standard covers up in the corner. Bob looks on like, ‘Fuckin nice.’ The two women SLAM into the canvas, rough. The fans are on their feet, “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”~

Smith: Unbelievable! Moonlight Rose is so desperate to take out Delia...uproot her, if you will, that she put it ALL on the line with that decision.

Hood: Again, she’s another one...she’s in her own head. Struggling with some shit and you saw it right there...a bit of delirium took hold and BAM

Smith: She is DYING for another shot at Egan, Hood. She really believes she can beat him.

Hood: Yea and so did, like, 13 other people.

~The Standard returns to his feet, kicking glass out of the way. He looks down at the two women who are on the mat, barely moving. He shakes his head. He then grabs Moonlight by the hair, yanking her off the mat. He whips her into a corner...she slams hard! Standard sprints in and RAMS his forearm right into her chin...big time running uppercut!! She nearly flies over the corner and to the outside...Standard catches her legs and he turns around PLANTING her on the mat with a powerbomb, on top of the glass. He then goes for a pin...Scruff kicks a bunch of glass out of the way and makes the count~

1!

2!

3...NO!

Smith: Moonlight Rose stays alive!

Hood: Well, okay then. Like you said, she’s putting it all on the line so she can just lose to Harmon again.

Smith: You know what? I think if she got another crack at him...I think she’d beat him.

Hood: Okay, that’s too much cough syrup for you, my man.

~Grenier gets back in the ring. He stomps on The Standard, keeping him down, alongside Moonlight Rose. He then turns and looks down at Delia. Delia rolls over onto her back, wincing from the fall...she then sees the twisted face of Bob staring down at her. Instantly she scurries backward to get away from him...he catches up with her in the corner, shoving his boot in her throat. Delia does the only thing she can thing of...she hits him with a low blow!!! The fans boo! Bob stumbles back, doubled over. Delia pulls herself up and she kicks Bob in the face, straightening him up!! She then chops him and chops him and chops him!! Bob is leaning against the ropes...Delia takes a few steps back, she gets a head of steam and charges at Bob...but Bob ducks and lifts Delia up and over...all the way out of the ring and SMASHING through the table!!!! HUGE IMPACT!! The fans chant ‘HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!’ Bob leans over, looking into the camera and smiling...feels good, man, to put someone through a table~

Smith: And Delia takes another terrible fall...my goodness!

Hood: This is assault! All she was doing was enjoying a nice time in singles competition and these assholes are trying to kill her.

Smith: Maybe if she would have fought the match instead of hiding...maybe none of this would have happened.

Hood: I blame Moonlight Rose. And masks. Mostly masks.

~Grenier looks down at Delia and laughs. He then turns around only to get hit by a running claymore from The Standard!!! Bob hits the ropes, stumbles forward and he gets dropped with a cutter!!! The Standard just hit him with Never The S☠me!!! Bob is down! The Standard makes the cover...Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Belvedere: Bob Grenier has been Eliminated!!!

Smith: And there goes the Hall of Famer!

Hood: The clear favorite to win this...he’s gone!

Smith: What a pin for The Standard. He’s undefeated and now...NOW he’s officially pinned a Hall of Famer.

Hood: Kid’s going places, Smith.

~Grenier is rolled out of the ring. The Standard doesn’t gloat or bask in the victory...he turns his attention to Moonlight. He pulls her off the mat...but she fires up, hitting him with forearm after forearm after forearm!! The Standard is reeling! The Standard quickly knees her in the gut and tries to whip her into a corner...but she reverses it and hits him with a STIFF short arm clothesline...right in the throat! He coughs and stumbles around. She then sneaks up behind him, trying to get him on her shoulders...but he’s too heavy...she falls to one knee and he lands on his feet. He then hits the ropes, comes off and tries to hit her with his running claymore...but she tumbles forward, just under it...she pops to her feet, hits the middle rope, springboards off, spins around, grabs The Standard and takes him down with a Tornado DDT!!! The fans go wild~

Smith: Tremendous action! Look at Moonlight go!

Hood: It may just be the moon...but she’s shining as bright as the fucking sun right now.

Smith: Indeed!

~Rose heads for a corner. She’s realized she’s not picking Standard up for anything. She gets to the top rope and she looks down at her opponent, on his back...glass still littered on the canvas. But, we’re beyond worrying about that now. She flips around, turning her back to The Standard before leaping off with OTK (Corkscrew Moonsault)!!!! But The Standard gets his knees up!!! Moonlight’s inside are CRUSHED! She pops to her feet and falls into the nearest corner, coughing and holding her midsection. The Standard is back on his feet...he runs in and hits her with a HUGE splash!!! He pulls her out of the corner and whips her into the ropes~

Smith: Never the Same! Here it comes!

Hood: Nevermind...looks like we got cloudy skies tonight.

~Rose bounces off the ropes and Standard hits her with his running claymore!!! She stumbles around, about to fall...but he reaches in, grabs her and looks to finisher her off with a CUTTER! But she pushes him forward, leaps up and takes him over with an inverted hurricanrana!!! The fans leap to their feet! The Standard’s head lands in glass! He’s down! She makes the cover! Scruff slides in...in the background we see Bob’s hands reach in, holding The Standard’s legs down~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

Belvedere: The Standard has been Eliminated!

Smith: He’s out!

Hood: Fuckin Bob! What’s with these veterans, man...sore losers!

~The Standard kicks Bob off his feet and looks at Scruff...but it’s too late! Bob quickly grabs a chair, prepared for what’s to come. The Standard hops out of the ring and points at Bob...we see some blood beginning to trickle from his hair, down his face. Grenier urges Stan to come at him. Stan finally does, chair be damned...Bob swings wildly, Stan ducks and takes him down with a spear! The two men brawl on the stage~

Smith: Standard pinned Bob. Bob then kept Standard from being able to kick out...thus ensuring he wouldn’t win the match!

Hood: And now Moonlight Rose is the winner...she gets her wish. She gets another shot at the Craze Title.

~Rose gets to her feet, exhausted. She tosses her arm at Scruff to raise it...but he doesn’t. She’s confused. She then realizes the bell never rang...her eyes wide...the fans rise...she suddenly falls down...she’s taken over with a roll up by Delia Black!!! Delia has a handful of tights! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The fans boo!!! Rose kicks out right after three...but Scruff motions for the bell~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...and the #1 Contender for the OCW Craze Title...DELIA BLACK!!!!!

~Black pops to her feet, overjoyed! The fans boo the shit out of her...but she’s acting like she just won the superbowl. Scruff raises her hand...she starts to try to cry...but it’s all short lived when she gets shoved by Rose. Delia sees the enraged look in Rose’s eyes...so she exits. She hops out of the ring and takes off up the ramp. Rose leaps over the top rope to the floor and chases her. They run by Bob and The Standard who are being separated by security. Delia sprints through the curtain with Rose giving chase. The fans are going wild~

Smith: Chaos! Pure Chaos! You’ve got Dylan and Diana trying to kill each other. Bob and The Standard at one another’s throats...and now Moonlight Rose more eager than ever to get her hands on Delia Black.

Hood: But, through it all...we’ve got ourselves a Craze Contender...the brave, the tough, the ferocious Delia Black!

Smith: She spent half the match hiding. Another half resting. And then she won with a handful of tights.

Hood: Work smarter. Not harder, Smith.

Smith: Ridiculous...well folks, things are off to a hot start here at Decadence. Take a moment, catch your breath because we’ve got much, much more to come.

~We get a shot of several employees on the ramp keeping Bob and The Standard separated as we cut backstage~

~We cut backstage where AKB is standing by with Who’Re~

AKB: What an amazing match, right Whore?!

Who’Re: You know it’s pronounced Who’Re, Alpha! Do we always have to do this bit?

AKB: For all eternity.

Who’Re: Yay me. Fans, we hope you enjoyed that opening match up as a glimpse into OCW’s future was given to us by 8 amazing athletes!

AKB: Future can come from newcomers as well as veterans looking to rediscover their stride.

Who’Re: So, in that vein...let’s reveal the 2022 Yearly Award winners in the undercard category!

AKB: First off, the 2022 Newcomer of the Year!

Who’Re: There were a lot of great contenders for that award but I think the right one was chosen.

AKB: Undefeated Craze Champion with a chance to earn an OCW Title shot. I’d say so!

Who’Re: And now we reveal the Most Improved Wrestler of the Year!

AKB: My boy Easton!

Who’Re: Easton saw unparalleled progress in 2022. He went from losing to Zeus to competing with the very best this company has to offer.

AKB: Dude is primed for a massive 2023.

Who’Re: And, finally, we look at the Most Underrated Wrestler of 2022!

AKB: Give it up for BALL BALL!

Who’Re: The name may not get you ready for what you’re about to face...but make no mistake about it, Ball Ball is legit!

AKB: Yep, and now I hear he’s got his GOON set to run wild in OCW.

Who’Re: Like Easton, look for 2022 to be a big year for Ball Ball and Goon 83!

AKB: Okay, there’s the undercard awards for 2022! We’ll be back soon with more yearly awards!

Who’Re: Yay!

~We cut backstage to Welsh’s office. He’s rubbing his hands together, looking very excited~

Marcus Welsh: Alright, Greggers. It’s time. It’s TIME for the games to begin.

Greg: Gentleman’s games, Marky?

Marcus Welsh: Of course not! I would never partake in such foolishness. I’m talking about the war against B.O.B.

Greg: Ah, yes.

Marcus Welsh: The Craze Title Match is up next. It starts a string of B.O.B. versus OCW members for championships. If Egan can lose this one...that’ll really rock the foundation of B.O.B. Might lead to a CLEAN SWEEP.

Greg: But isn’t Egan undefeated?

Marcus Welsh: Yes, but don’t worry, Greg. I’ve got this covered. There’s a good chance that streak ends tonight.

~Welsh slaps something on the wall. It’s a counter. It’s got ‘Welsh’ above a zero and ‘B.O.B.’ above a zero~

Marcus Welsh: Okay. Let’s make this Welsh 1 and B.O.B. 0. Here we go!

~We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Welsh better hope Adi didn’t see that.

Hood: She’s probably wandering around backstage with that Thunder Knuckles mask on.

Smith: Regardless, if it wasn’t crystal clear before it should be now...Welsh is doing everything he can to hinder B.O.B.’s chances for success tonight.

Hood: And why shouldn’t he? They are bastards!

Smith: We’ll see how that plays out as the night goes on.

~We cut backstage in close on Harmon Egan as he watches the final moments of the Craze Contendership match play out. With the result now known, he nods his head with a determined looking on his face before turning around to meet Corey~

Corey: You got this champ.

~Harmon removes his notepad and starts writing~

Harmon: There’s something I needed to talk to you about.

Corey: Look man, if it’s about the match with Synn tonight we already discussed it man. We got this. Plus, I believe in you despite the screwjob Marcus tried to put in place. Corey claps a hand on Harmon’s shoulder wearing a warm smile.

~Harmon holds up another note~

Harmon: No, its something else.

???: Where’s my favorite Craze Champion!

~A garrulous voice sounds from off camera and in walks Thunder Knuckles, number one contender to the OCW championship~

TK: There’s my guy. Listen Harmon, I don’t care what Corey says you are gonna beat Synn’s Elvira wannabe ass raw tonight.

Corey: I never said…

TK: Hush ‘ems.

~TK holds a finger aloft in Corey’s direction. Corey, looking annoyed, rolls his eyes and crosses his arms~

TK: Harmon, tonight we make Welsh eat a steaming hot plate of his own shit. The guy has it out for us, and for whatever reason he seems to have laid the biggest screwjob at your door. But I just wanted to let you know I got complete faith in you.

~Harmon holds up a note to TK~

Harmon: And I think you got it in the bag against Pic tonight.

Corey: Which brings up a hell of a point!

~Corey steps in between the two~

Corey: Welsh said that if Harmon…

TK: WHEN!

Corey: WHEN Harmon wins tonight, he gets a shot at the world title in March. So, TK, if that’s you, are you stil going to honor that stipulation?

~TK looks offended and disgusted. Offendusted, if you will~

TK: Stop trying to stir the pot Corey! Of course I will. In fact, it would be my fuckin’ pleasure to do so. But first…

~TK points at Harmon~

TK: …our boy’s gotta get there. Now Corey, I’m assuming you got this match on lockdown for Harmon.

Corey: We have a strategy.

TK: Good! There’s no reason Harmon shouldn’t come out of this the winner despite that dipshit’s stipulation.

~TK turns back to Harmon~

TK: After you rock this big titty goth girlfriend, we got plenty of booze and bitches in the B.O.B. locker room on standby (not you, Corey). Just come on down!

~TK claps Harmon on the back good naturedly and departs. Corey looks at Harmon~

Corey: You were going to say something before…

Harmon: It’s ok. Let’s focus on what’s in front of us, alright?

Corey: Hey man, if that’s what you want. But for the record, I still don’t trust that TK is going to give you the shot if he’s the champ. He knows what you’re capable of and he knows he’ll fold hard against you.

~With those parting words, Corey leave sthe shot, leaving Harmon alone and looking somewhat pensive~

“You’ll be cryin’ like a bitch!”

~Godsmack starts playing on the speakers at full volume as the spotlights point to the stage.~

Hood: Fresh off his victory just last week, I think Donnie Harris has quite the part to play if he keeps up what he has done with Mad Max, Rene McRae and, most recently, All IC Bro.

Smith: Absolutely have to agree this time, Hood. Donnie didn’t give his opponent a moment to breathe. The minute Harris smelled the bullshit, he went charging at him without remorse or restraint.

~Donnie Harris, dressed in a three-piece suit, walks out to the ring, shoes shining and polished, holding the microphone loosely in his hand as he walks with lax purpose, as if more entertained listening to the music than the crowd, regardless of cheering or booing. He rolls under the bottom rope and dusts his suit off once he’s back to his feet.~

Hood: It is odd to see someone like him wearing a suit that fits. You can see just in the way he walks about that he has no concerns with the strength of his seams.

Smith: When you start making the money you can’t make in the amateur leagues, you have to be prepared for absolutely anything; why not dress up nicely?

Hood: The belt is perfectly set too: not too long, not too short.

Smith: The man understands what it is to be dressed well without needing to flash any more masculine features than he needs to.

~As the music tapers off, Donnie raises the mic to his lips, looking across the arena. He lowers the mic and looks out to the people, waiting for silence.~

Harris: It’s funny that I wasn’t exactly heard before I punished All IC Bro last week. After all, the guy flailed about, fell on his ass, and we all had a good laugh.

~He lowers the microphone and starts to pace a bit, his free hand still in his pocket. A big sigh comes before he stops in the middle of the ring, sighing again, but this time, it was into the microphone.~

Harris: Yeah, and by we, I mean you scabs.

~And here come the boos. He takes a step back and raises both hands, as if to gesture for everyone to calm down.~

Harris: Hey now, it’s not all your fault. The man was trained to be a clown, and I got to do something that no one has the guts to do, and that is whoop the clown until he was bleeding face paint. All he had left in his mouth was chew, because he was choking on his teeth as they brought his stupid ass back by stretcher to the back.

~The boos weaken as the cheers kind of start up again, almost as if the fans didn’t know what to do. Donnie’s hand goes back into his pocket.~

Hood: He knows how to talk to the people.

Smith: Definitely an unorthodox way to greet the fans, but he seems to be winning them back.

Harris: It never really mattered who told me what to do back behind the curtain; I realize that now. All I need them to do, whether it’s Welsh, Strader or anyone else that holds the power and the money, is book me in matches and let me show them what this sport really needs. Sure, you have massive mountains like Bifford, champions like PIC, gorgeous women like Sahara and Knight, but with all these intergender matches being shuffled into the cards, will it matter whose face caves next when I make them ride the lightning!?

~The fans’ reactions move out of the boos and back into cheers, but there are still some hold-outs booing, enough for Donnie to notice.~

Harris: And then we have these naysayers among actual cultured adults. Yeah, it’s real to you, dammit, but if it wasn’t for actual athletes like me, it wouldn’t feel real at all! All the blood, broken bones, ended lives: it would mean nothing if it wasn’t for guys like me coming in here and making it credible.

~The boos increase in volume as more people join in.~

Harris: Oh what now? Are you feeling sad that I’m bringing up your Scott Halls? Your Owen Harts? Your British Bulldogs? Hell, what about your Curt Hennigs and Rick Rudes? What were they first? What were they doing before wrestling came knocking? They were guys like me: athletes cutting their teeth before realizing where the true money was. Hell, even Owen was playing other sports before coming into wrestling; they all were!

~The boos and cheers find equal footing: a true mixed reaction from the crowd!~

Harris: Oh yeah, yup, to be expected; I thought wrestling fans had a long memory but no, you’re only interested in their lives in the ring, nothing else. But whatever, I did what I meant to do out here, and this nonsense I’ve been facing? It comes to a fucking end, because I’m not playing in the minors anymore; I’m out of amateur hour, because I want real competition. I’ll be on the cruise ship, I’ll be ready to go to war, and I’m going to make sure that whoever I face is well aware that I’m not here to play games. I’m here to win, and I will maim whoever tries to take that for granted. You’ll be hurting a hell of a lot faster than I will. Hell, you’ll probably feel warmer too, as your face is left broken and bloody; fresh blood always feels warm until it touches the open air.

~“Cryin’ like a Bitch” by Godsmack starts playing again as Donnie drops his microphone at the center of the ring, exiting through the ropes as he adjusts his blazer, rubbing his hands together eagerly.~

Smith: Strong words from Donnie Harris.

Hood: Dude kicked ass last Monday. He looks focused.

Smith: Yep, could be a break out star in February. Alright fans, we're just about set to return to the ring...but first, ONE MORE SEGMENT!

Hood: Mother fucker

~We cut to the backstage on a close up on what appears to be a woman’s cleavage in a low cut top. The male portion of the crowd inside the arena (and some of the lesbian fans) erupt in cheers until the name tag ‘Hi, My Name is Larry’ is shown. It zooms out further to reveal Larry is holding folders and binders being handed to ‘him’ by OCW Owner, Adi Gold.~

Adi Gold: Finally! All the paperwork on my end for The Great Illuminatus is done and done. Finally I can sit back and enjoy the pay per view like a fan. The way it was MEANT to be seen.

Larry: I like the way you think, boss. A cold brew?

~Larry bends down provocatively with her rear in the end showing off the g-string ‘he’ is wearing. Adi notices taking a peak as Larry returns with two Heniken bottled beers. Larry hands one to Adi.

Adi Gold: Sure why not. I think I earned it… WE earned it, Larry. Consider yourself off duty for the rest of the night.

Larry: Cheers, bruh!

~Larry proceeds to open both bottles with ‘his’ cleavage and hands one to Adi and begins chugging down ‘his’ bottle. Adi looks at the bottle~

Adi Gold: I don’t think that was a twist open bottle, but cool.

~Adi falls down on the couch and sips the beer while watching the show on a TV monitor.. Letting out an impressive loud belch, Larry sits down next to Adi. Larry lets out a fake yawn and stretches his arm around Adi’s neck and rubs the bosses shoulder. Adi puts her head on Larry’s chest as Marcus Welsh quietly enters the office. Larry gives Marcus a wink and a thumbs up as Marcus tip toes to the desk to grab a folder. Adi catches him and jumps up from the couch. Larry looks bummed~

Adi Gold: Marcus! Marcus! Did you not get my texts?? I’ve been trying to reach you for like an hour…

Marcus Welsh: Sorry, Adi. I don’t have my phone on me…

~Just as he says this his cell phone buzzes inside his jacket. He awkwardly smirks and answers it~

Marcus Welsh: Yes… Larry?

Larry(quietly from the couch): Dude, don’t be a cock blocker, man! What the fu- -.

~Marcus puts the phone back in his jacket~

Marcus Welsh: What did you want, Adi?

Adi Gold: Well I just wanted to say that everything is set for the Great Illumantus trip to Antarctica. I got us first class seats next to each other. So prepare for a lot of games of Mad Libs.

~Marcus shivers as Adi laughs~

Marcus Welsh: Is that all? I gotta show to run and…

Adi Gold: One more thing. I know you’re up and against this Brotherhood of Bastards potential OCW take over tonight. And while I can kind of see your point on how it MIGHT come off as a bit hectic. BUT it has some good things to it also. ANd NO I am not bias because T.K. and I have been chatty since we see each other around OCW more often than not these days. But I do feel B.O.B. is a good fit for OCW. And if its a clean sweep tonight… I wouldn't think of that as a BAD thing for OCW. Gives the roster more of a reason to step up and what not and…

Marcus Welsh: A B.O.B. take over isn’t good for anyone, Miss Gold. And… you know what. I really have to get back to work. We’ll discuss this after the show?

Adi Gold(pouting): And here I thought I was the boss…

Marcus Welsh(sighing): You are, you are. It’s just an important show. And… we will talk later. Promise. Enjoy your beer. Take it easy. You’ve earned it… chat later? Nice seeing you as always Larry.

Larry: Peace out player!

~Marcus rushes out of the office as Adi watches him exit. She takes a slug of the beer and looks back at Larry who is tapping the couch seat next to ‘him’. Adi rolls her eyes as the scene fades~

Smith: Welsh is adamant about keeping B.O.B. out of OCW...for good! Meanwhile, Adi is a friend of B.O.B. she might even be B.O.B. LIGHT, if you will.

Hood: Less calories. More refreshing!

Smith: We'll see if Welsh can continue to manipulate or if Adi will stand up and take the full control that she has. In the meantime, the war between OCW and B.O.B. begins now with the Craze Championship! Let's head down to ringside for this one!

Craze Championship
Speak Up Match
Harmon Egan (c) (13-0) vs. SYNN (3-1)

~We cut to the ring. It’s been cleared of all the debris and chaos from the opener. An image of the Craze Title shines down upon the mat. The fans pop~

Smith: Alright, after that hot start we move on to a match that has the chance to steal the show, if you will. Two of the brightest young stars in OCW battling for the title we just saw 8 wrestlers put it all on the line for moments ago. It’s Harmon Egan defending his Craze Title against SYNN.

Hood: The quest for immortality or death begins. Will B.O.B. rise or will they fall?

Smith: That’s an excellent question. You’d have to anticipate failure in this one, despite Egan’s dominance. The stipulation does him NO favors.

Hood: Nope, the fix is definitely in here. But, if Egan overcomes it, the dude will get an OCW Title shot. Kinda mean spirited of Welsh to not only fuck him over...but to do it after promising him the world.

Smith: Welsh is a lot of things. But fair? I don’t think he’s ever been accused of that. Anyway, Belvedere is in the ring...let’s get to it. It’s time for Craze Championship action!

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a SPEAK UP Match and it is scheduled for one fall!! The rules of this match are simple. A microphone will be placed in the center of the ring. Whenever a wrestler grabs it and speaks into it clearly and completely stating a rule change to the mat...that rule will then go into effect. The first wrestler to win this match under whatever rules are currently in effect will walk out as the OCW Craze Champion!!

~Huge pop from the fans~

Belvedere: Introducing first, the challenger…

~YEN by Slipknot hits. A pop from the fans! Especially the ones in the VIP area. They’re fully aware of what’s at stake. Anybody but B.O.B. SYNN steps out from behind the curtain...she looks around, taking in the aura. It’s her first championship match on OCW PPV...and, it’s a big one. She pauses, closing her eyes...slowly, she raises her head and stares down the ramp...and the march begins~

Belvedere: From Anchorage, Alaska...standing 5’8 and weighing in at 150lbs...SYNN!!!!

~SYNN hops onto the apron and she rolls in under the bottom rope. She sprawls out...all fours, staring at the ramp, a rabid look in her eyes...she’s got her game face on (literally)...she’s ready. A small ‘SYNN’ chant breaks out~

Smith: SYNN’s got the home crowd advantage tonight.

Hood: She looks ready, Smith.

Smith: One could argue everything she’s been through in life has led to this moment.

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

~"The Day is My Enemy" by The Prodigy hits! It’s a mixed reaction for Harmon. It’d be a positive response if it weren’t for all this B.O.B. stuff...guilt by association, it seems. Plus, SYNN’s popularity with the crowd helps tip the scales in her direction. Regardless, it’s a strong, mixed reaction toward one of the most impressive young stars in recent memory. The Craze Champion emerges from behind the curtain...he’s in great shape...he shakes his arms, he breathes in and out...it’s clear he’s fired up, doing his best to contain all the energy coursing through his veins. His manager, Corey Smith emerges, standing at his side~

Belvedere: From Parts Unknown...standing 5’10 and weighing in at 175lbs...he is the undefeated, undisputed OCW Craze Champion...he is...Harmon ‘Harmony’ Egan!!!!!

~Egan’s eyes focus on the ring. He sprints down the ramp at full speed. Corey lets Harmon do his thing while he’s content on striding down the aisle, knowing it’ll all still be there once he arrives. SYNN remains sprawled out, all fours, staring him down. Egan reaches the ring and he dives in, head first...he slides atop the mat...sprawling out like SYNN...the two competitors stare each other down...Egan coiled, ready...SYNN moving, slithering around. Belvedere can tell things are about to kick off. He exits the ring, quickly. The fans are on their feet, cheering. Scruff, the ref for this contest, signals for the bell...it rings to a huge ovation...he then drops the mic on the center of the mat, in between the two competitors...it lands with a loud thud~

Smith: Egan just dove right in...he’s entered the pit with SYNN

Hood: Yep, he wasn’t going to let her stare down intimidate him. Dude’s been through enough...mind games aren’t gonna fuck him up.

Smith: And now that mic is the only thing, outside of air, that separates those two. Will Harmon even go for it?

Hood: I mean, he can’t really use it. But he might play defense with it.

~SYNN slides and moves...almost gliding atop the mat while Harmon remains poised and coiled. SYNN eyes the mic. Her key to victory. Her lone advantage in this one. Egan watches her, instead of the mic. SYNN takes the first risk...she throws her body at the mic...but Egan is ready...he snares the mic and rolls away. SYNN slides atop the mat on her stomach, twisting her body around, regaining control and looking at Egan. Egan pops to his feet, in a corner, holding the mic...he then tosses it out of the ring. It lands LOUDLY at the base of the ramp. A mixed reaction from the fans. SYNN’s face twists with anger as she slowly rises...she walks toward Harmon...he’s ready for anything...her walking picks up in pace...she then sprints forward and throws her body at Harmon! The feral nature of her attack has him off balance...her body slams into him, driving him into the corner. She throws her head into his head...she slings her arms around, violently slashing and smacking and thrusting any and everything she can into the champion. Scruff rushes in to make sure everything is close to ‘street’ legal~

Smith: SYNN has been unleashed. Yikes!

Hood: Man, for all you dudes out there...stay away from this one. She’s crazy.

Smith: Egan is about as prepped and talented as they come but...yea, I’m not sure anybody can be completely prepared for something as untamed and unpredictable as SYNN.

Hood: He also got rid of that mic.

Smith: Smartest move he could make. It’s a weapon only SHE can use. So, keep it away from her.

~With SYNN mauling Egan in the corner, Corey looks over at the mic. For now, he leaves it alone. Scruff grabs at SYNN, making the determination that some of the stuff she’s doing isn’t legal. She gets off Egan...he leans in the corner, stunned by the attack. SYNN grabs him by the arm and whips him violently out of the corner. He sprints full speed across the ring. She charges in behind him...Egan steps up on the middle buckle and he flips backwards, over SYNN. She flies into the air and SLAMS into the buckle, attempting and missing a splash. She turns around and SMACK! Egan takes her to the mat with a roundhouse kick!! SYNN holds her face, yelling in pain~

Smith: He’s so quick. So aware. You cannot jump blindly at Egan. He’ll make you pay.

Hood: Nope. You’ve got to think while you’re in there if you want to beat him. Something I don’t think SYNN does much of.

Smith: I think you’re selling her a little short.

Hood: She paints her face, man. You know how I feel about clowns.

~SYNN holds her face, getting to all fours. Egan throws a soccer style kick at her head...but she tucks and rolls forward, popping to her feet. She hits the ropes...Egan turns, facing her. She comes off the ropes and throws her body at him with a crossbody...but Egan catches her. He doesn’t slam her...instead, he puts her back on the mat and immediately tries to lock in a clinch! SYNN knows this can only lead to disaster...so she fights it off as best she can. Harmon, realizing this is more trouble than it’s worth, leans down and fires up with a forearm uppercut that sends SYNN reeling into the ropes. He charges forward, driving a knee into her abdomen. SYNN doubles over, gasping for air. Harmon quickly transitions, grabbing SYNN and locking in an abdominal stretch. SYNN yells out in pain, her abs being stretched to their absolute limit. Harmon’s face winces as he pulls as hard as he can. SYNN takes her free hand and she reaches up, clawing at Harmon’s face. Egan pulls back, trying to avoid an eye gouge. His base weakens, allowing SYNN the chance to flip him over with a hip toss! Egan hits the mat but he immediately kips up and then flies backwards with a Pele Kick that smacks SYNN in the face!! SYNN stumbles, dropping to one knee. Egan is immediately back to his feet, staring her down~

Smith: Wow. Incredible. This man is next level.

Hood: Like, what do you do to this guy? How do you beat him? He’s freakishly quick. Incredibly smart. And scary strong for his size.

Smith: Gonna take a great night from you and an off night from him.

~SYNN, to her credit, shakes the impact off pretty quickly. She gets to her feet, yells and charges at Egan...he side steps, allowing her momentum to send her through the ropes, to the outside. She lands hard, out of control. Egan turns, looking down at her from the ring. SYNN keeps moving...she’s in pain, but she keeps moving. She crawls for the barricade, using it to get to her feet. Egan steps through the ropes and hops off the apron to the floor. He grabs SYNN and he whips her toward the ring steps. She charges forward and leaps up, sticking the landing on the steps. Egan looks up at her, ready. She looks down at him...but then she leaps off and does a moonsault, landing on Corey!! Egan looks on, shocked. She takes Corey down! The fans are stunned. Scruff looks on...I mean, it isn’t illegal. He’s out there. Egan rushes forward...he hops over the steps and drops down, checking on Corey. SYNN crawls away~

Smith: Corey’s out there managing Egan and she just jumps on him. That’s not exactly fair!

Hood: Maybe he had bad breath or something and she was tired of smelling it.

Smith: Yea, I don’t think so, Hood. She did it for a reason...just not sure what, yet.

~Corey starts to come to...he looks up at Egan and immediately signals that he needs to leave him alone and focus on the match. Egan looks around for SYNN. He looks and looks and then finds her...she’s standing on the other side of the ring...slowly, she raises the mic~

Smith: She’s got the mic!

Hood: And she’s put the entire ring between them!

Smith: You’d better get to her before she can get it out, Harmon!

~Egan hits the ring and pops to his feet, frantically heading her way...~

SYNN: This match is now a No Disqualification Match...for ME! Harmon can still be DQ’d.

~Egan leaps onto the top rope. He springboards off and dives at SYNN...but she moves!! Egan sticks the landing and leans into the guardrail. He turns around to find SYNN...but as he does...THWACK!!! She makes him eat a steel chair...right in the head!!! Egan collapses to the ground! SYNN holds the chair up, staring at the dent...she smiles. Corey slowly heads their way, still feeling the effects from her moonsault. He rounds the corner...but she threatens him with the chair. He stays back. SYNN grabs the mic and stuffs the handle down the back of her pants. She then grabs Egan and slings him into the ring, sliding the chair in behind him. She crawls in and covers Egan...Scruff dives in for the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Kick out by Egan! But, man...this is so unfair. I don’t know how he’s going to overcome this.

Hood: I know he’s attached to Corey. But...you could not, under any circumstance let her get that mic.

Smith: Indeed. And now she’s got it. She can control this entire match whenever she wants. I think you’re looking at your new Craze Champion, folks.

Hood: Yep and Egan’s OCW Title shot just went up in smoke.

~SYNN pops back to her feet. She MIGHT be frustrated, if she didn’t have total control of this thing. She picks up her chair...she rears back. Egan rolls over onto all fours, his head swimming. Smack! SMACK! SMACK! Smack!! She drills him with four massive chair shots to the back...flattening him out on the mat. She then drags him into a corner and hangs him upside down, tying his legs around the top buckle. Harmon is totally vulnerable. She then places the chair over his head. She heads across the ring to the opposite corner. Quickly, she jumps up onto the top rope...she measures Egan up and she leaps off nailing COAST TO COAST...her feet SMASHING the chair into Egan’s face!!! Egan’s limp body falls to the mat. The impact also sends the mic from SYNN’s pants, onto the mat. She promptly gathers it, re-securing it back there. She then flips Harmon over and makes the cover...Scruff slides in...Corey looks on, terrified this might be it~

1!

2!

3...NO!!!

Smith: Somehow Egan got that shoulder up!

Hood: Fuckin unreal. I mean, I’d typically congratulate the kid but it’s all for nothing. She’ll just throw some new, wild stip in there that makes it even tougher for the guy. If I were Corey I’d throw in the towel. This is going to get too dangerous for him.

Smith: Throw in the towel? Well, you don’t know those two very well, Hood.

Hood: You act like I spend all day reading bios and shit.

Smith: Well, that IS your job.

~Corey leans back, relieved. SYNN pulls the mic from her back and brings it to her mouth. She stops and thinks...trying to find the most ‘sure thing’ imaginable to get this victory. She starts to speak but Harmon kicks her in the sin. She stumbles...unable to get any words out. She looks down at him, knowing he’s not going to let her talk...at least not unless she punishes him some more. She dives at him with the mic and starts to slam the bottom of the handle into his head. THUD!THUD!THUD! Over and over...she finally stops, seeing some blood on her hands. Harmon’s forehead is busted open. A smile creases her face, enjoying the knowledge that she’s inflicted visible pain into the undefeated champion. She rises back to her feet...she leans over the top rope and looks out at the crowd...she asks for them to give her a stip...something to end this match~

Smith: I hate it’s come to this. Harmon on the mat, bleeding. Unable to use the mic. SYNN looking for a stipulation that’ll give her a gimme win.

Hood: This is what Welsh wanted, clearly. I’m sure he’s in the back opening a bottle of champagne.

Smith: I’d hope not. Egan is the future, Hood.

Hood: If he’s the future then he’ll figure out a way to win this fuckin thing. Otherwise, I think we might need to start saying SYNN is the future.

~Someone in the crowd yells out ‘FIRST BLOOD MATCH!’ SYNN’s eyes widen. She laughs. Corey looks on...he yells “NO!” He frantically hops onto the apron. SYNN rushes, throwing a kick at him...he hops off the apron, avoiding the impact. And then, a voice booms over the PA~

Voice: I, Harmon Egan, do away with SYNN’s stipulation. I wish to add my own. This match is now a handicap match...with Corey Smith as my partner.

Smith: WHAT?!

Hood: Huh?

~SYNN turns and sees Harmon with the mic to his lips. She looks at Scruff. Scruff is totally confused. He loos out into the crowd...should he allow it? The fans are mixed...but ‘Yes’ chants do seem to be out performing the boos. SYNN is like, “You can’t count that. That clearly WASN’T him!”~

Smith: SYNN arguing her case here to have that stip thrown out.

Hood: I mean, I don’t think it was him. But do we really know what he sounds like?

Smith: Nobody has ever heard his voice before.

Hood: This is a tough one.

Smith: It’s all in the hands of Scruff.

Hood: Lord help us.

~Scruff shrugs and says, “I’ll allow it.” The place erupts! An unexpected turn of events as Corey Smith...an in-ring legend, is now active in this match! SYNN threatens to harm Scruff...until she feels the mat move...she spins around and is face to face with an active Corey Smith! The fans chant ‘YES! YES!’ She slings a right hand at him but he blocks it and unloads on her with several right hands. She stumbles back into the ropes...he whips her off them...Egan pops to his feet and he jumps up, smacking her in the face with a dropkick!!! SYNN slams down onto the mat, hard. The crowd goes wild! Corey walks over to Egan, checking on him. Egan says he’s fine...just a little shaken up. Corey kicks the chair out of the ring...he looks at the mic and he tosses it back outside. SYNN gets to her ass and she slides backward into a corner, leaning up against the middle buckle. Corey looks at her. Egan gets to his feet, his face wearing the damage she doled out to him...he looks at her. SYNN is in trouble~

Smith: And, just like that the entire dynamic of this match has shifted! Egan is the overwhelming favorite!

Hood: This is some ultimate fuckery, man! There is NO WAY that was Egan’s voice.

Smith: It’s tough to say. But Scruff is the deciding factor and he’s allowing it. So, now Corey is active and, well, as if Egan wasn’t tough enough...she’s got to face another pro wrestling badass.

Hood: Well, guess I’d better put my B.O.B. shirt on...time to hitch myself to that bandwagon. They are about to be 1-0!

~SYNN licks her lips...her fate is what it is. She’s fought through worse...she pulls herself up and she goes to work! She goes after Corey first, but Egan is on her with right hands! She tries to brawl with Egan but Corey knees her in the back a few times...eventually, she succumbs to the stipulation, stumbling into the ropes. Corey tells Egan to take a break, recover...he straightens SYNN up and SMACK! Huge knife edged chop that cuts through the arena...the fans ‘WOO!’ Smith measures SYNN up and delivers a straight right hand to the challenger...she stumbles...Corey then whips her off the ropes...she sprints across the ring, bouncing off the opposite ropes...Corey jumps up and in one fluid, athletic motion takes SYNN down with an Axe Kick!! She hits the mat hard, holding the back of her head! The fans chant “Corey! Corey!” He looks out, feeding off the energy of the crowd~

Smith: Corey Smith back in action for the first time in an OCW ring!

Hood: Well, let’s see what this guy’s got. I’ve heard all this shit about him.

Smith: This new stipulation likely spells doom for SYNN as it’ll allow Corey to help get Egan across the finish line.

Hood: Now that’s what I call some superior management

~SYNN doesn’t stay down long...she’s a fighter and she knows she’s gotta keep going. She pulls herself up and stands upright only to get caught with a thrust kick into the chest! Her body slams into the nearest corner...she stumbles forward, though. Corey delivers a high knee into her sternum, stunning the challenger...he then locks in a clinch and proceeds to hammer SYNN with several short, fast, punishing forearm uppercuts until her legs give out and she falls to the mat, leaning up against the bottom buckle. The crowd continues to cheer for Corey as he stands over SYNN looking very much like the decorated wrestler we’ve all heard about~

Smith: Okay so, yea, he can still go.

Hood: No shit. Guy kicks and punches like an MMA champion.

Smith: Easy to see where Harmon’s been sharpening his skillset.

~Corey pulls SYNN out of the corner and he motions toward Harmon. Egan is ready. His head is still bleeding but, otherwise, he looks mostly recovered. Corey whips SYNN toward Harmon...she charges full steam ahead...and Egan greets her with a dropkick to the leg!! He takes her left leg out from under her! SYNN hits the mat, screaming in pain. Egan is back to his feet, quickly...he grabs her left leg, lifts it up and slams the knee into the mat!! He holds on and does it again!! SYNN tries to cover up, protecting her leg but Egan maintains his hold on it before twisting around and applying a Single Leg Boston Crab! SYNN yells out in pain...Scruff drops down, asking if she wants to give it up...but she refuses. Egan continues to crank back on the hold~

Smith: That knee can only withstand so much damage.

Hood: If she doesn’t wanna say it maybe she can run her finger through some of that face paint and spell it out on the mat. I QUIT

Smith: I doubt she’ll do that, Hood.

Hood: Oh, she can’t spell? Damn.

Smith: That’s not what I said!

~SYNN yells out...she digs into the mat and pulls herself near the ropes where she grabs the bottom rope! Scruff breaks the hold! Harmon releases...this time, without any hesitation. He looks down at SYNN...she’s tough. Corey stands next to him, giving him some instruction. Harmon pullls SYNN back up, obtaining the left leg...he drops her with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip!! He pops back to his feet, still holding the leg. He then takes her over with a Small Package! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3...NO!

Smith: Almost...with that leg so badly damaged she only had ONE leg to kick out of that small package.

Hood: Smart wrestling by Harmon Egan.

Smith: Indeed. That’s why he’s undefeated.

~SYNN curls up in the center of the ring, holding her left leg. The end seems to be near. Corey urges Egan to keep at it. No time to relax or lose focus. Egan pulls SYNN up...he grabs her knee once again but she spits in his face! He’s stunned a bit...she rips her leg free and hits Egan! Corey steps forward but SYNN chops him. She then chops Egan...then Corey...then Egan...then Corey! She’s using both hands to chop! CHOP CHOP CHOP CHOP!! Corey and Egan are stunned! SYNN’s showing some fighting spirit! Egan throws a kick into her leg, halting her efforts. Corey then whips her into the ropes...SYNN does the only thing she can think of...she dives through the ropes to the outside...a true suicide dive...nobody out there! She lands HARD! The fans all rush to the barricade to check on her. Corey and Egan head over to the ropes, looking down. She’s laying against the guardrail, her body shaking with pain~

Smith: Well, that was unexpected.

Hood: She just said FUCK IT ALL

Smith: Probably more thought put into it than that, Hood.

~Corey talks a little strategy with Egan...as he does, they hear a voice start to come over the mic. It’s rattled, tortured, and shaky...butt it’s familiar. They look down and see SYNN with the mic~

Smith: She threw her body from the ring so she could get that mic!

Hood: Damn. Okay, so it was with purpose.

Smith: She had ZERO chance of winning this under the current stipulation. She had to do something, Hood.

Hood: Masked people, man. Painted faces. Whatever. Psychos.

~Harmon leaps over the top rope to the floor in one fluid, effortless motion. SYNN hurries to speak~

SYNN: Corey Smith is…

~Egan boots her in the gut. Corey tells Harmon to get her back in the ring. He pulls her to her feet but she slugs him in the head with the mic!! Egan is staggered. Corey moves to exit the ring...SYNN tosses her body over the barricade into the crowd, vanishing. Smith’s feet hit the outside floor and he heads for the guardrail...~

SYNN: Corey Smith is BANNED from ringside! This match is no longer a handicap match!

~Smith reaches the guardrail and stops, looking down at SYNN. She’s laid out, holding her knee with one hand and the mic with the other. Corey sighs...Scruff comes over there to grab him but Corey isn’t going to break any rules...it is what it is. He pulls his hands off the guardrail and walks by Egan, telling his protege ‘you got this’. Egan nods. Corey then exits the ringside to a huge ovation from the fans~

Smith: Corey’s been banned from the rest of this match...an act SYNN absolutely had to make.

Hood: Well, he looked fuckin amazing in the limited action we saw. Dude should look to wrestle here more often.

Smith: You never know, that might not be the only time we see Corey Smith compete in an OCW ring!

~Egan reaches over the barricade to get SYNN but she thrusts the mic up and into his throat!! He stumbles back, leaning against the steel ring steps. SYNN isn’t done speaking~

SYNN: And, this match is now an I QUIT MATCH!

~She slings the mic into the crowd and hops onto the guardrail...she’s barely using her left leg...but she leaps off with a crossbody onto Egan, smashing his body and back up against the ring steps! Together, they tumble to the side of the steps...SYNN nurses her leg, Harmon reaches for his back~

Smith: An I Quit Match!

Hood: Does that even make sense?

Smith: Egan can’t talk...or, well, not without some god-like voice booming over the PA. So...how can he say I Quit?

Hood: I really don’t know...but it seems like SYNN wants to hurt him and in doing so might have just completely fucked up her chance to win.

Smith: Yea, if a person can’t say I QUIT they can’t lose an I QUIT match...I don’t get it.

Hood: It’s SYNN, man. Nobody gets it.

~Egan rolls face down onto the floor, reaching for his back. SYNN crawls toward him, dragging her left leg...she gets on his back and immediately locks in a camel clutch! Egan’s face grimaces in pain as she pulls back...using mostly her arms and right leg...her left leg continuing to hang limp. The fans lean forward, watching. Egan fights through the pain shooting up and down his back, crippling his entire system. For good measure, SYNN uses her pinkie to dig and poke into the wound on his head~

Smith: Oh my gosh...she’s putting him through torture right now!

Hood: She busted him open with a mic and wrecked his back with some chair shots. She’s gonna exploit both areas to try and punish the man.

Smith: That might have been her plan all along...he can’t say I Quit so he can’t END the punishment.

Hood: Psycho hose beast, man.

Smith: I haven’t heard that one in forever.

~Scruff is outside the ring, seeing if Harmon is gonna give it up...but he can’t say anything. So, Scruff looks on like ‘What do I do?’ Egan, like SYNN earlier, realizes he’s in back shape...so he starts to push up...the strength in his core, his shoulders, his arms is impressive...he gets to one knee...SYNN looks around, stunned...she wraps her legs around his body, trying to weigh him back down...Egan gets to his feet with SYNN on his back...he stumbles around before falling backward and SLAMMING SYNN into the ring post! THUNK! Her back and head smack into the post! She immediately lets Harmon go, falling to the floor. Egan drops down to all fours, reaching for his back~

Smith: And, just like SYNN earlier when she threw herself from the ring...Harmon put his back through absolute hell to get to his feet and get SYNN off him.

Hood: Cleansing himself of SYNN, if you will.

Smith: Sure, I suppose.

~He stands, using the apron for help. Turning, he sees SYNN slouched against the ring steps. He pulls her up and slings her back int the ring. Gingerly, Harmon slides in, stepping back up to his feet inside the ring. SYNN is on her back. Harmon goes after that left leg...while he can’t quit, she sure as shit can. He snags her left leg...but she kicks him off with her right! He stumbles into the corner, his back hitting the buckles...he seizes up, pain firing off in his spine. SYNN struggles to her feet, still basically on one leg. Egan staggers her way...she manages to lift him up and drop him with a tilt o whirl across her left knee!! Harmon is down, arching his back! SYNN falls to the mat, clutching at her left knee, yelling in pain~

Smith: Instinct kicked in...she hit a terrifically executed tilt o whirl back breaker on Harmon’s injured back...BUT, across her injured knee.

Hood: Thousands and thousands of reps are hard to defeat even with an injured appendage.

Smith: Yep, it’s just instinct at this stage and sometimes instinct can betray.

~Both wrestlers are down...the crowd is on their feet, stomping and clapping, trying to get them up. SYNN slides to the ropes, dragging her injured left leg. Egan gets to all fours, breathing heavily, his wind feeling the impact of an injured back. SYNN pulls herself up using the ropes...she goes after Harmon...she throws an investigative right leg but he swats it away and dives, grabbing the left leg! He stands, holding SYNN’s injured leg...she’s in trouble. Harmon takes a few breaths, managing the pain he’s feeling...SYNN reaches forward and she rakes at the wound in his head!! Egan is stunned...SYNN drops down and grabs Harmon’s leg, taking him to the mat...she transitions into a cloverleaf, jamming her right knee into his back!!! Egan flails around, feeling tremendous pain! Scruff slides in...he’s got a mic in his hand, wondering if maybe, somehow Egan could say I QUIT. But, nothing comes out of his mouth...all we can see is the pain in his eyes and face. SYNN rears back, she’s almost got Harmon folded in half~

Smith: Disgusting looking...the damage she’s doing to our champion’s back cannot be measured. Pain he might carry with him throughout the rest of his career.

Hood: And he can’t even quit, man. This is sadistic!

Smith: It’s a torturous strategy, to be sure. But I don’t know how much of a ‘winning’ strategy it is.

Hood: What if he passes out? Taps out?

Smith: He has to say I QUIT

~Egan’s movements begin to slow. He’s smack dab in the center of the ring...nowhere to go. His back being wrecked beyond measure. SYNN doesn’t let up. The fans start to yell...they plead with SYNN to let him go. Some evens cream at Scruff to stop the match. But, rules are rules. Egan’s eyes are shut...he’s face down, motionless~

Smith: I think our Craze Champion is finished, Hood.

Hood: Not only has SYNN apparently defeated Egan..but she might have ruined his entire career!

Smith: I think we need somebody to step in...for the sake of Egan’s future.

~The fans pop as we see Corey step from backstage, he’s carrying a white towel. But OCW officials get in his way, they won’t let him get to the ring...since he’s banned. He pleads with them, pointing at his client...his friend. SYNN continues to lean back, refusing to give Harmon any reprieve. The fans start to boo at SYNN...this lack of compassion turning them against her. But, she doesn’t care. She’s gonna make him feel it...every last bit of it~

Smith: Let Corey get to the ring! He’s trying to save Harmon!

Hood: He’s banned, man. We’ve got rules, ya know. Without rules, we’d be barbarians or some shit.

Smith: Well what I’m witnessing is pretty barbaric.

~With no other option...the fans start to chant for Harmon. “Egan! Egan! Egan! Egan!” They chant...they clap...they stomp! Corey looks around...he slings the towel up and down, waving his hands, urging the cheers on. “EGAN! EGAN! EGAN!” They get louder and louder...SYNN can feel a shift in the air. She looks around the arena, anxiously. All twenty thousand or so fans in the Arena are chanting in unison “EGAN! EGAN! EGAN!”~

Smith: Listen to this crowd!

Hood: It’s like they are trying to raise the dead.

Smith: The entire city of Key West is behind Harmon Egan right now! This is unreal!

~”EGAN! EGAN! EGAN!” We zoom in on Harmon...not much has changed...until he slams his fist into the mat! The fans go wild!! He slams his other fist into the mat!! The fans get even louder...he pushes up and we see his eyes open! He opens his mouth to yell...but nothing comes out. Instead, the visual is inspiring. SYNN looks around, shocked. Egan pushes up, his entire body off the mat….he then rolls forward!! SYNN is thrown back! Egan gets up and he snatches SYNN’s left leg! The fans are going crazy! SYNN tries to reach for the ropes but Egan drags her into the middle of the ring by her left leg~

Smith: Egan has been revived! He’s a man possessed at the moment!

Hood: And while he couldn’t say I QUIT...we know SYNN’s voice works just fine.

Smith: Indeed.

~Egan kicks at her left leg several times...right into the knee...SYNN screams with each kick. Egan then twists and turns the leg...trying to sever every ligament within. SYNN shrieks with pain...Scruff asks if she wants to quit, but she refuses. Finally, Egan drops down and locks in Mundi Comedentis (Calf Slicer)!!!! SYNN’s eyes widen...this is very, very dangerous! Egan’s got it locked in deep...SYNN’s left leg is bending in a manner it shouldn’t...a breaking point is very near~

Smith: If she doesn’t quit she’s going to be out of action for months!

Hood: That leg is about to snap!

~SYNN holds out as long as she can...she looks down at her knee...she pulls at her hair. She then looks to Scruff...he brings the mic down. She waits, staring at Harmon...he stares back at her. She can see that he’s willing to break her leg...she flashes a sadistic smile before leaning into the mic~

SYNN: I…..quit.

~The crowd goes wild! Scruff motions for the bell and Harmon immediately releases the hold and quickly slides away from SYNN...almost like she’s anathema or something. She slowly drags her injured leg into a corner where she holds it while staring at Harmon. Corey hits the ring to check on Egan~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND STILL OCW CRAZE CHAMPION…HARMON EGAN!!!!!

Smith: Harmon Egan survives...he wins a SPEAK UP match without a voice!

Hood: And now he’ll get an OCW Title shot in March.

Smith: What a massive win for the young man!

Hood: But look at SYNN...she doesn’t seem that upset...like, at all.

~Corey hands Egan his belt. He then helps him out of the ring...they pause and look back at SYNN...she’s staring their way, smiling, while holding onto her injured leg. Corey urges Egan to move on...he looks back at SYNN and her smile. He might have won but maybe she pushed him to a place he didn’t necessarily want to go. With an exhausted sigh, he throws his title over his shoulder and allows Corey to help him up the ramp, to the back~

Smith: I think SYNN wanted to see if Harmon would do whatever it took to beat her and, well, she thinks she got the answer.

Hood: She pushed him to the brink...he survive, rebounded, and then returned the favor. She tested him in a way he’s never been tested before.

Smith: And now he’ll take this with him moving forward as Harmon is officially the #1 Contender to the OCW Championship.

Hood: About fucking time.

Smith: As for SYNN...given Harmon is undefeated and seemingly unstoppable. The fact that she pushed him so far and appeared to have him beat can only bode well for her.

Hood: Yea, she might be a paint wearing freak, but she’s legit.

Smith: Big time future ahead for SYNN. No doubt.

Hood: But, above all that...the bastards are 1-0!

Smith: That they are, unfortunately. The deck was stacked against Harmon and he somehow managed to prevail. The clean sweep is still on the table, Hood.

Hood: Tonight might be a very, merry Bastardly evening.

~We cut back to AKB and Who’Re~

AKB: And we’re back!

Who’Re: Yay!

AKB: So vapid. But yes, it’s exciting! And how about that Harmon Egan? Going from Newcomer of the Year to #1 Contender in one night!

Who’Re: Just goes to show that in OCW hard work pays off. This month’s newcomer could very well wind up a #1 contender...just like Harmon!

AKB: Yep. And now, before we continue with the in-ring action we look toward the next set of awards...we’ll call this the ‘storytelling’ awards for the year of 2022!

Who’Re: And it begins with the Angle of the Year!

AKB: I think that one was a no doubter. Everyone was impacted by EPIC SUMMER. It had the entire roster guessing and it turned one of OCW’s newcomers into a pro wrestling legend who has dominated ever since.

Who’Re: It also helped run that weirdo out of the fed.

AKB: Haha, it did do that.

Who’Re: And next...we’ve got our winner for 2022 Feud of the Year!

AKB: Nice! That had to be a close one.

Who’Re: Voting was tight but in the end the fans just couldn’t forget all the moments and spots from that amazing Strader/TLS feud that helped kick start the year.

AKB: Strader was involved in so many of the best feuds of 2022...it’s fitting that she walked away with this award.

Who’Re: Yep!

AKB: Okay, and now for the final award in this set...the 2022 Match of the Year!

Who’Re: Expected and fitting!

AKB: So many great matches in 2022 but none like THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS.

Who’Re: A brand new match concept that forever changed the company. Such a hit that we’re doing it again next month!

AKB: Alot of people said Carpe Noctem was the greatest PPV in company history...and, well, it only had one match...THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS. That in and of itself should tell you how amazing that match was. Last year Bifford came up just short as Outcast managed to survive the ILLUMINATUS with the OCW Title. Will PIC or Thunder Knuckles be able to do the same next month?

Who’Re: The odds are definitely against them. Alright fans, let’s get back to the action. We’ll return shortly with MORE awards!

~In the backstage area, The Big Bifford is standing against a wall with a crowd of people on both sides of him. To his left stand Earl the Popcorn Salesman, Alice Knight, and Ehud Gray II. To his right stand the ghosts of Ehud, Martin Ka'Berryon, and Martin Ka'Berryon's father. Everyone, including the ghosts, are talking amongst themselves.~

Alice: I'm used to things being out of the normal in my day to day life, but I have to say this week felt particularly surreal. Is every week like this?

Earl: Every single one.

Alice: I have to say I didn't mind it.

~Bifford snaps his fingers and the whole crowd quiets down.~

Bifford: Greetings all.. I would like to welcome Alice Knight to the team and after tonight, our long and glorious reign as Tag Team Champions will begin.. Welcome, Alice.

~Everyone, including the ghosts, clap politely.~

Bifford: Tonight, after I piledrive and then pin The Nickelback, we will become OCW Tag Team Champions, a Championship that I have never held in OCW. However, earlier this week we lost a true legend in the wrestling world in Ehud of Moab, who died mysteriously.

~Alice Knight looks uncomfortable and tries to hide it.~ Bifford: So next Massacre, we will have a special tribute to Ehud and memorial service right on Massacre. I expect you all to dress appropriately as we honor Ehud..

~Bifford motions towards Ehud's ghost, showing that they are definitely still able to see them. The ghost of Martin Ka'Berryon reaches out and pats Ehud's ghost on the shoulder.~

Bifford: Alice and I will be wearing the Tag Team Belts to honor Ehud since his greatest level of success was as my tag team partner. It was with me that he gained his victory over Mario Maurako and Silver Cyanide. But the rest of you should think of some other token or clothing item that you can wear to honor the great Ehud. Now let's huddle for team spirit..

~The whole crew, including the ghosts, gather in a circle.~

Bifford: I recently heard someone describe us as a cult.. but we aren't a cult.. we are a team with a charismatic leader.. I am that leader and my charisma has given me the uncanny ability to get you, my team members, to follow me without asking any questions. Now let's go out there and win us some tag team gold...

~The whole team, including the ghosts, put their hands in the center of the circle and cheer, throwing their hands up into the air. They break out and head all in different directions, except Bifford, Earl, and the ghost of Ehud, who remain in place and are alone.~

Earl: So.. you think you got a shot?

Bifford: Pfft.. Alice Knight is my partner. We are definitely gonna lose unless I can keep her from being involved.

~Bifford rolls his eyes and walks away and Earl is left alone with Ehud's ghost.~

Earl: So what's death like, Ehud?

Ehud: Kinda thirsty.. Kinda hungry.. but can't eat.. It's weird.. I want to attack someone but my punches go right through him.

Earl: You want to attack someone? Shouldn't you be making peace with the world to.. you know.. cross over or whatever you dead people do?

Ehud: I would but that fucking guy in the grape suit keeps fuckin' touching me..

~Earl thinks about it a second and then nods in agreement. The man and the ghost just stand in silence.~

Hood: You know, I don't think I'd want that guy in the grape suit touching me if I was dead either.. fuckin' Ehud.

Smith: Did you just say "fuckin' Ehud" about a dead guy?

Hood: Classic OCW, baby?

Smith: ...

Hood: Classic OCW, baby.

Smith: Alright folks, we're just about set for Tag Team Action! But first...you saw Thunder Knuckles arrive earlier today. Well, I'm told people have been asking "WHERE'S PIC!?!"

Hood: I know I have!

Smith: Well, I'm told the OCW Champion arrived earlier today. Let's take a look at the footage.

EARLIER TODAY

~Fans are lined around the OCW Arena anxious to be let in for tonight’s Decadence PPV. The crowd seems extra rowdy and raucous, but a smattering of tuxedos and formal wear throughout makes things appear slightly more sophisticated. A commotion begins to ensue as a black Lincoln MKT limousine pulls up to the curb directly in front of the main entrance. The fans quickly crowd in as the driver comes around to the passenger side and opens the door. Willie “Mo Mo” Peterson is the first to step out and the crowd immediately pops, knowing who’s coming next. Willie is dressed to the 9’s in a skin tight black tuxedo with white ribbed shirt with a big red bow tie. He messes with the tie as if it’s nearly choking him, but he corrects himself when he notices the crowd and cameras.~

Crowd: PIC! PIC! PIC! PIC!

~Wilie steps to the side and smiles as his client emerges from the limo. PIC is looking even better in a custom Kiton tuxedo of his own. He steps forwards, buttoning his tuxedo jacket in the process and smiles gently as he waves at the crowd surrounding him. A young girl to his left yells out.~

Girl: PIC! Can I get your autograph?

~PIC kneels down next to her and grabs her photo of him and her Sharpie. He signs his name and hands it back to her, giving her a small hug in the process. The girl nearly cries as she looks back to her father to show her. The dad reaches out his hand and PIC shakes it.~

Dad: You just made me the best dad in the world.

~PIC grins. He releases the handshake and slaps several other hands as he walks towards the entrance. A security guard opens the door for him to enter when a sign catches his attention in the crowd. It reads: PIC IS A KILLER.~

PIC: Hey!

~PIC turns and begins walking toward the area. The crowd parts, leaving a lone mid-20s man smiling with the sign held high above his head.~

Man: What do you want, murderer?

PIC: Give me that!

~PIC rips the sign from the man’s hands and turns back toward the arena. He wads the sign up and throws it in a trash can.~

Man: You can take my sign, but it doesn’t change the facts. You killed Amick!

~PIC stops, but thinks better of another confrontation and continues into the arena with Willie following suit as the scene slowly fades out.~

Smith: A lot on the champion's mind, obviously. Not just his personal life...but the looming threat of TLS and his defense tonight against Thunder Knuckles.

Hood: Heavy is the crown or whatever. It's not easy being the king. PIC's learning that lesson each and every day.

Smith: Indeed. Alright fans, it's time for Tag Team Action...the first ever RELEASE THE KRAKEN match is set to take place! Let's head to the ring!

Tag Team Championship
Release the Kraken Match
B.O.B. (c) (3-0) vs. Alice Knight & The Big Bifford (0-0)

~The fans in the OCW Arena are slowly, it seems, turning into B.O.B. fans. Fuckin weird, right? Probably due to the fact Welsh is stacking the deck against the bastards. Even a bastard, no matter how bastardly, can be loved if the people deem they are being mistreated. However, that SHOULD change in our next match because...not only does it feature bastards...but this time they are facing two (or, well, ONE) of OCW’s most beloved wrestlers. In fact, the hooting has already begun. One side of the Arena is HOOTING. The other HOOTS back. Yep, they’re ready for some hot OWL action. Belvedere stands in the ring, ready to do his thing~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a Tag Team Match and it is scheduled for one fall! This is a Release the Kraken Match! Both teams will choose one partner that must handcuff themselves to their corner. The key to these cuffs will be embedded within the top turnbuckle pad which resides in their opponent’s corner. Once the active member locates the key and uses it to unlock the cuffs restraining their partner...that partner is then freed and active to participate in the match! And, when they are released, they must yell “RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!” Whoever emerges victorious in this match will walk out as THE OCW Tag Team Champions!!!

~Major ovation as several fans scream out “RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!” The VIP section looks around like, “HEATHENS!” before diving back into the extremely complicated charcuterie boards that comprises the mid-portion of their dining experience~

Belvedere: And now, introducing first...the challengers…

~Some dark, heavy rendition of Gangsta’s Paradise begins to play. The fans give a mixed reaction. They aren’t used to cheering for this man...but, he IS teaming with Owlis. And he IS facing the bastards. So, mixed it is. The Big Bifford makes his way from behind the curtain looking Big, and Biffordy. He marches down the ring...his magical fleece blowing in whatever wind exists inside the arena. Fans look on in awe at the sheer size of this mastodon of a man~

Belvedere: He is a two-time OCW Champion…he is the originator of the pink and purple OOC forum...he was the first man in history to incorporate mules, skates, and goldfish into a pro wrestling match...and, he’s in the OCW Hall of Fame...he is...The Big Bifford!

~Bifford steps up to the apron and forces his massive body through the ropes, entering the ring. He stands at the center and slaps his massive hands together. The MYSTICAL confetti falls from the ceiling, into the ring. A fan is heard yelling, “DANGEROUS DAN IS THE MAN!” Biff turns, staring the fan down...the fan is overcome with fear, turning and running out of the Arena~

Smith: Bifford, everyone.

Hood: He’s going to need all the menace he can muster to balance out Alice’s shenanigans.

Smith: Is it muster...or is it...MUSTARD

Hood: Fuck off

~Level by the Raconteurs and the crowd pops! Or, HOOTS is more apropos. The HOOTING is deafening as ALICE KNIGHT emerges from behind the curtain...she flaps her arms (like wings) and lets out several loud, screeching HOOTS! The fans go wild! “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” the infamous chant shaking the very foundation of the OCW Arena. Alice struts down the ramp hooting and flapping her wings. Bifford looks on, unimpressed~

Belvedere: And, his tag team partner...from Bethel, New York...standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs...she is a former OCW Champion...she is the leader of the OWL IS NIGHT movement and the most famous person to ever be associated with owls...she is in the OCW Hall of Fame...she is...Alice Knight!!!

~Alice hops up the steps...one step at a time, flapping her wings. She struts across the apron...she’s about to enter...but she lets out a loud HOOOOT! Before doing so. The fans all hoot in response. She enters the ring and flaps her wings, hooting. Bifford looks down at her. She stops, looking up at Biff. She flaps her wings and HOOTS violently in his direction. He remains unmoved, staring down. Alice bends over and grabs some mystical confetti...she puts it in her mouth and tries to eat it...but she spits it out immediately. The confetti hits Biff in the stomach. He sighs and heads for his team’s corner, leaving Alice behind~

Smith: This all might be a little much...even for Bifford.

Hood: Bifford barely BARELY lost an OCW Title match one month ago...so, naturally, he’s being forced to team with the bird lady one month later.

Smith: A win here would go a long way in getting Biff that rematch for the OCW Championship.

~Alice drops the act for a moment, scooping up some of the mystical confetti and tossing it out of the ring...not really eager to taste anymore of it~

Belvedere: And, their opponents…

~Ol' Dirty Bastard - Shimmy Shimmy Ya hits! A mixed reaction from fans...fans near the top of the arena (cheap seats) are very PRO Bastard! Fans near the ring...not so much. But, the Tag Team Champions don’t care...from behind the curtain emerges former Savage Champion, The Nickleman and...behind him, Tag Team legend, Bobby Bourbon. The two core members of B.O.B. look out at the crowd, taking the atmosphere in before directing their attention to the ring. With the tag titles slung over their shoulders, they march down the ramp with a purpose. Alice stops kicking confetti out of the ring...she straightens up, seeing the bastards heading her way. Bifford remains in his team’s corner, keeping watch via the corner of his eye~

Smith: It’s the bastards! The OCW Tag Team Champions!

Hood: Quietly...or not-so-quietly, I guess...they are turning into potentially the greatest tag team in OCW history.

Smith: You never know what version you’re going to get when you face the bastards for the tag titles...tonight you get in-ring legend Bobby Bourbon and former Savage Champion, The Nickleman.

Hood: Whatever the combination...you’re more than likely fucked. The OG bastards have arrived!

Belvedere: They are the two time OCW Tag Team Champions...a group that has and is currently dominating the professional wrestling landscape...tonight they send out two of their most prized warriors...former Savage Champion The Nickleman and Pro Wrestling Legend Bobby Bourbon...they are the OCW Tag Team Champions...they are the Brotherhood of Bastards!!!!

~The Bastards hit the ring. Alice darts out of their way, standing next to Biff. Nickleman spins around, eyeing Alice and Biff while Bourbon heads to the nearest corner, climbing to the middle buckle and raising his arms at a 45 degree angle with the tag title hanging...the champ gets a mixed reaction. Belvedere, realizing shit is about to go down, exits. Scruff pulls two pairs of handcuffs from his back pocket~

Smith: And now each team will have to pick one competitor to be cuffed to the corner.

Hood: I mean, it should be pretty fucking obvious who should be cuffed on one team.

Smith: Yes, cuff The Nickleman. He is dangerous.

Hood: Uh, no, I was talking about Alice. She should be cuffed...AND NEVER SET FREE

~Alice takes the cuffs from Scruff and yells out “Ohhh BOY!” before slinging them around. Nickleman grabs their pair and he tosses them at Bourbon. They hit Bobby in the chest...he looks down at them and slings them back at the Nickleman...he struggles to catch them~

Smith: I don’t think Bobby wants to be cuffed.

Hood: Uh, ya think?

Smith: Meanwhile, Alice having fun with those cuffs!

Hood: Just as I figured...she’s no stranger when it comes to a pair of cuffs.

Smith: Hey! Are you calling her a criminal?

Hood: No. I’m calling her a whore.

Smith: HOW DARE YOU

~Nickleman grabs hold of the cuffs and heads for the team’s corner, slapping one end around his wrist and the other around the pole that connects the top buckle to the post. It’s pretty clear he knows how to handle cuffs, as well. We’ll leave it up to the viewer to decide how and why. In the challenger’s corner...Alice grabs Biff by the arm and tries to apply the cuff around his wrist...but it won’t fit~

Smith: Alice wants to start this match off...but the cuff won’t fit around Bifford’s wrist!

Hood: Damn. No wonder he never gets arrested. They physically can’t apprehend him!

~Bifford watches Alice fail with the cuffs for longer than he should before taking them away. Alice looks up at Bifford and his scowling face...she takes her index finger and bops him on the nose...he responds by swiftly picking her up and lifting her over the top rope, planting her down on the apron before swiftly applying the cuffs to her wrist and then the post. He pauses...about to face the ring...he looks at Alice and says “Don’t move.” Alice nods...she flaps her arms and lets out a ‘HOOT!’ Bifford turns to the ring where he stares down one of the larger men he’s faced in his career...Bobby Bourbon. Scruff has the tag titles...he holds them up to a huge ovation before handing them off...and then, the bell rings~

Smith: I don’t know why he has to manhandle her like that.

Hood: Because she is a child. A bird child.

Smith: Still!

Hood: Look, he wants to win. And, he knows, in order to win, he has to do EVERYTHING. God’s speed, Bifford.

~Bifford slowly removes his MAGICAL fleece. He throws it at Bourbon. Bourbon catches it. The six foot five near 300lb beast decides its time for the MAGICAL fleece to go the way of Melinda Rhodes...IN THE TRASH. He grabs hold and RIPS...only it doesn’t rip. He tries again and again...but the MAGICAL FLEECE does not tear. Bourbon looks at it, surprised...he then looks up and BAM! He gets run over via a clothesline from Bifford!! Bourbon hits the mat hard. Bifford grabs the MAGICAL fleece and he calmly hands it to Scruff. Scruff then hands it off to Belvedere~

Smith: I guess that really is a MAGICAL fleece.

Hood: Hey, we don’t call something magical for nothing around here, Smith.

Smith: Bourbon was shocked his strength couldn’t rip it...so much so that it took his focus off the match long enough for Bifford to strike.

Hood: And people think Bifford’s accessories are random and arbitrary...HA!

~Bifford reaches down, grabbing two hands full of Bourbon’s hair...he rips him off the mat with ease...but Bourbon spits in Bifford’s face! Biff stumbles back. Bourbon fires up and smacks him with some stiff right hands! Bifford stumbles...Bourbon hits him over and over...Bifford stumbles back and back before finally settling in a neutral corner. Bourbon rushes in and clotheslines the hell out of Biff. He then hops on the middle buckle, looks down at Bifford and smashes his right hand into Bifford’s head. The Bastards in the nose bleeds go wild! The VIP section sits, arms crossed...not enjoying their proud and strong legend getting handled like this. Bourbon finishes the barrage off with a 10th punch...the fans in the top of the arena scream out “TEN!!” Bourbon hops down and motions for Biff to come at him...Bifford stumbles forward...Bourbon goes to hook him for a Samoan Drop!! He tries and tries to get him up...but Bifford elbows Bourbon in the ribs once...twice...before his weight becomes too much and he squashes Bourbon into the mat~

Smith: It happens every time. Some big guy gets in there with Bifford and just has to try and lift him up.

Hood: It’s like testing his manhood, Smith. He can do it. I have the faith.

Smith: Yea? Well he’s gonna have to get Biff off of him. Biff excels in using his weight to smother and exhaust his opponents.

~True to his nature, Bifford lays on top of Bourbon. Bourbon is face down...he turns his head, placing his cheek on the mat so he can breath. He looks around, frustrated. Bifford just lays there. Nickleman moves to enter the ring...but forgets he’s cuffed...the chain biting and pulling his arm back. He curses, kicking at the bottom rope. Alice, meanwhile, HOOTS and flaps her arms, getting all the VIP fans to start to HOOT in support of the duo. However, the hooting seems to piss Bourbon off. He starts to push up...amazing strength as he is able to push himself off the mat...a few inches...but it’s enough for him to quickly slide his body out from under Bifford! He falls back, onto his ass...he leans against the bottom rope, his face red and covered in sweat. The tag champion fully realizes that he does not EVER want to be under Bifford again. He pulls himself up using the top rope. Bifford gets to one knee...Bourbon shoots off the ropes and he kicks Bifford in the face!! The OCW legend leans forward, on all fours. Bourbon continues running, hitting the ropes again...he comes off and drives his boot into Bifford’s head once more. This time Bifford flattens out, face down on the mat! Bourbon drops down and tries to roll him over...but it’s too much dead weight. He grunts and he yells...he’s not having much luck. He gets to his knees, gasping for air...he looks over at Nickleman...he then looks over at Alice...she picks up a stray ant off the apron and holds it in her hand...she starts talking to it. Bourbon’s eyes light up. Nickleman yells, “GET THE KEY!” Bourbon gets to his feet, heading for his opponent’s corner~

Smith: I think Bobby is done trying to move Bifford around. He needs help. He needs to get Nickleman free.

Hood: Yep, and he’s identified the weakest link...he’s gonna go over there, bitch slap that whore around a bit, get that key and they’ll be in business.

Smith: Why do you have to say it like that?

Hood: I speak facts, Smith. Deal with it or suck my dick.

Smith: I choose to deal with it.

~Bourbon reaches the corner. Alice sees him. Bourbon kinda looks at her like a predator does before they demolish their pray. So, Alice’s survival instincts kick in and she blows the ant from her hand, right into Bourbon’s face! He stumbles back, swatting at his face. Alice holds her stomach and laughs before looking in the camera and giving it a wink and a thumbs up. Bourbon overcomes THE ANTENING and heads back for the corner...he reaches for the top buckle...but the ring shakes like the ground in Jurassic Park. He turns and SMASH! Bifford rushes in and throws his body into Bourbon, squashing him in the corner. Bifford then scoops Bobby up, into his arms...he turns around and hops off the mat with one foot, spinning and dropping Bourbon onto the mat with a body slam...making sure all his weight lands on the OCW Tag Champion. Alice let’s out a HOOT!! All the fans HOOT with her. Bifford gets to one knee and takes a breath, wiping some sweat from his brow. He looks over at Alice...and at her foot. The foot that killed Ehud~

Smith: I see Alice has new shoes tonight. They look amazing.

Hood: That foot killed Ehud!

Smith: I don’t buy into nasty rumors.

Hood: It’s a fact!

~Bifford stands...still looking at her foot. He then makes eye contact with his partner. She leans back and yells in an oddly deep cadence “Get the KEEYYYYY.” All the fans laugh at her quirky behavior. Bifford thinks. A fan then yells, “Alice! I got this for you!” And he throws her a PET ROCK. She catches it and looks at Bifford...she points for him to get the key so she can ‘ya know’. Bifford decides he’s NOT going to get the key. Instead he tells Alice to put the rock down. Bourbon, meanwhile, returns to his feet. He hits the ropes, bounces off and hammers Bifford from behind with a clothesline! Bifford stumbles into the ropes. Bourbon grabs the man’s giant arm and he tries to whip him across the ring...but Bifford reverses. Bourbon hits the ropes...he bounces off and leaps at Biff! But Bifford catches him! He’s going for another bodyslam...but this time Bourbon bites into Bifford’s fat arm! Bifford lets him go, reaching for his arm. Bourbon hits the mat and then smacks Bifford with a boot to the face! Bifford stumbles...Bourbon hits the ropes, he bounces off and hits another BIG BOOT! This one with tremendous force. Bifford falls to one knee. Bourbon hits the ropes again...he bounces off and he hits Bifford with a Meteora!! His knees drive the big man’s back and shoulders into the mat!! The entire ring shakes from the impact! Bourbon rolls forward, popping to his feet. He looks over at Nickleman who is chewing on the ropes for some reason. Bourbon approves. He then heads back for the opponent’s corner~

Smith: He better not lay a hand on her!

Hood: Dude, she’s a literal murderer. And she’s got both of her favorite weapons right now...her foot and a rock.

Smith: I wonder what she’s going to name that pet rock.

Hood: Death.

~Bourbon nears the corner...Alice holds the rock up and she gives it a little mustache with her finger. “Why ‘ello there govna Bobby!” Bobby is nonplussed. Alice then lunges at him with the rock, trying to bash his skull in. Bourbon stumbles back. The fans go wild! Alice then flaps her wings and lets out a loud HOOT! Bourbon overcomes his general confusion and reaches out, grabbing Alice by the hair! The fans BOOOOOO!~

Smith: Let her go!

Hood: Break her neck!

~Before Bobby can do anything, two massive arms wrap around his waist...he’s going for a ride. Bifford hoists him up and dumps him on his head with a German Suplex!!! Bourbon hits hard and flips over his head, landing front first on the mat. Bifford gets to one knee again, taking a breath...again he looks at Alice’s foot. He shakes his head and turns toward the champions corner. Despite his reservations, he might need Alice. So, he heads toward The Nickleman~

Smith: Bifford going for the key. Oh my...I just hope if she gets freed that she doesn’t get hurt.

Hood: Bifford is LITERALLY scared to release her...scared that she might kill someone.

Smith: Yea, kill them with kindness, maybe. She’s the best.

Hood: SHE FREAKS BIFFORD OUT...BIFFORD!

~The Nickleman watches Bifford, while also chewing on the top rope. Bifford reaches for the turnbuckle...but as he does, Nickleman snaps at him. Bifford pulls his hands back, looking at the vile, horrible, dangerous man. Nickleman throws a punch at Bifford...but Bifford blocks it and then slams Nickleman’s head into the back of the turnbuckle!! Nickleman is rocked! Bifford reaches for the top buckle and he starts to mess with it...he tries to tear into it but there’s no pre-cuts made to help the process. So, he starts trying to untie it...however, before he can get to far, Bourbon runs in and drives his shoulder into Bifford’s back!! Bifford leans forward, wincing in pain. Nickleman rises up and he bites Bifford on the head! Bifford yells out in pain. Bourbon steps back...Bifford manages to get free of Nickleman’s teeth...he turns around and Bourbon goes for SHORYUKEN!!! Bifford dodges it and runs Bourbon over with a clothesline, taking him down. Alice yells out, “YOOHOO, BIFFY!” Bifford looks over and he sees Alice waving around...A TINY SCYTHE~

Smith: Where did she get that?!

Hood: ANOTHER MURDER WEAPON

Smith: He’s corrupting our beloved Alice!

Hood: I wouldn’t be surprised if she lifted that SCYTHE from Bifford. Drifting hobo. Evil woman.

~Bifford isn’t too thrilled that Alice keeps obtaining these dangerous weapons. But, this one could come in handy. So, he motions for her to throw it his way. She lets out a loud HOOT before rearing back like she’s a major league pitcher or some shit and slinging it his way. But, Bourbon jumps up! He intercepts the tiny scythe! He then SMACKS Bifford with a SUPERKICK!! Bifford falls to the mat. Bourbon then rushes forward and he slices into the turnbuckle with the tiny scythe. Alice tries to fight him off but he pie faces her, sending Alice’s body slinging back and into the ring post. He digs his hands into the top buckle, removing all the fluff and cotton before finding...THE KEY!! He’s got it! The bastards in the rafters go wild! Bourbon then turns and hurries toward Nickleman...Nickleman motions for him to hurry hurry hurry. Bifford is still down. Bourbon leaps over Bifford...Bifford grabs him by the leg!! Bourbon can’t quite reach Nickleman so he tosses him the key. Nickleman catches it! Bifford gets to his feet, holding Bourbon’s leg. Bourbon tries to hit him with an enziguri but Bifford catches his other leg...he’s got both of Bourbon’s legs...and then, suddenly, we hear Nickleman scream ‘RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!!!’ The bastards in the rafters go wild! Nickleman is FREE! He enters the ring~

Smith: No! The Nickleman is free!

Hood: Fuck yes! Let’s end this insanity! Pin the Bifford and send Alice packing on another 6 month leave of absence!

~Nickleman charges at Bifford and throws his body at the massive OCW legend. Bifford tries to catch Nickleman...but the awkwardness of the former Savage Champion makes it hard for Bifford to corral. He stumbles into the ropes, his arms around Nickleman, barely able to keep him up. Bourbon pops back to his feet. He hurries over and punches Bifford in the head. Bifford lets Nickleman go...Nickleman punches Biff. Bourbon punches Biff. The two bastards go off on Bifford with right hands...smashing the OCW legend in the head...over and over and over. Alice looks on...she points and yells at the bastards, but they ignore her. They’re rabid...punch punch punch punch. Finally, they step back...Bifford takes a step forward before collapsing to the mat with a loud THUD~

Smith: And down goes Bifford! Bourbon should be able to move him around now that he has The Nickleman in there to help him.

Hood: I know Bourbon gets all the hype for being this big dude but it’s not like Nickleman is some cruiserweight.

Smith: Nope, in some ways he’s equally as imposing as Bobby.

~Nickleman yells, “Let’s flip his fatass over!” They go to work, rolling Bifford onto his back...it’s not as easy as they thought it’d be, but doable. Bourbon goes for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: And a kick out from Bifford. I know they’re bastards...but Bifford is one of the greatest of all time. It’s going to take some work to keep him down.

Hood: Biff should just stay down. You’re teaming with Alice, Biff! You know what happens if you win? YOU KEEP TEAMING WITH HER. End it now!

Smith: But if he were to ‘throw it’...the Bastards would be 2-0. Keeping the dream of a clean sweep alive!

Hood: And how is that my fucking problem?

~Bourbon pops up and grabs Bifford by the bear. Nickleman grabs him by the hair...together they pull Bifford to his feet. He starts to fight them off! The die hard OCW fans cheer! He’s got Bourbon stumbling. He hits Nickleman, sending him staggering back. But, the two Bastards lock hands and charge forward with a huge double clothesline!! Bifford stumbles backward, refusing to go down. Nickleman moves in...but Bourbon pushes him aside and delivers SHORYUKEN!!! Bifford stumbles all the way back into the Bastards corner where the back of his head slams into the top buckle!!! The ring seems to shift from the impact. Nickleman grabs Bobby by the arm and he whips Bobby into Bifford...Bobby flies through the air with a HUGE splash!! Nickleman then charges in and throws his body into Bifford! Massive impact! Nickleman climbs onto the second rope and he starts to punch Biff in the face...he gets to 9...the fans, chanting along, are eager for the tenth punch...but Nickleman doesn’t give it to them. Instead, he dives in and bites on Bifford’s head some more~

Smith: Can this man keep his teeth to himself!

Hood: Dude, he chews on glass. For fun.

Smith: Where did this ‘Nickleman’ come from? The pits of hell?

Hood: Worse. Ohio.

~Bifford shoves Nickleman off of him. But, he seems to be a little worse for wear...his vision kinda impaired. He walks out and throws a wild punch at Nickleman...but Nickleman dodges it and jumps on Bifford’s back, biting into the back of his head!! Bifford lets out a guttural roar...the pain and discomfort of a grown man biting the back of his head supplying both hurt and surprise. Bourbon takes the opportunity to punch and kick Bifford in his midsection. Finally, Nickleman gets off Bifford and he pushes him into Bourbon...Bourbon flexes...gathers himself and he picks up Bifford and drops him with Dinosaur Extinctor!!!! A popup Spinebuster!!! Bifford’s body SLAMS into the mat, nearly breaking through the canvas. Bobby rolls over, arching his back...feeling the pain from all that weight. So, Nickleman dives onto Bifford for the pin...Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3...NO!

Smith: Close! Wow!

Hood: Fuckin Bourbon, man. He finally did it. Now he needs to stop trying to flex how strong he is before he tears something.

Smith: Bifford is in bad shape, Hood. These two bastards are going to rip him apart until he quits or gets pinned.

Hood: As they should. There ain’t no participation trophies over here. You either win or you get fucked up trying.

~Nickleman doesn’t waste any time complaining, instead he hovers over Bifford and tries to bite him again...but this time Bifford shoves Nickleman off him. Bifford tries to roll away but Bourbon hurries over and grabs him by the hair...only way Bifford can roll out of the ring now is if he wants to suddenly become a middle aged BALDING man. So he sits up, staring at the ropes, grimacing in pain as Bobby has a handful of hair. Nickleman walks up and he starts to slap Bifford in the back of the head while Bourbon maintains his grip. He grabs one of Bifford’s arms...Bourbon grabs the other...they drag Bifford back into the center of the ring. Alice, sensing they are in trouble, HOOTS, flaps her arms, and stomps on the apron...all the fans near ringside do the same, trying to give Biff some energy. It starts to work! Bifford flings his arms out, shaking Bobby and Nickleman loose! Bifford then gets to his feet. He goes after Nickleman...but Bobby runs up and attacks Bifford from behind. Nickleman attacks Bifford from the front...they pummel him with lefts and rights until he’s back to staggering~

Smith: Bifford can’t take much more of this!

Hood: I’ve never seen him handled like this. It’s unreal.

~The fans start a ‘BIFF!’ chant...starting to feel sympathy for the Hall of Famer...even if he does murder people more frequently than Charlie Sheen fucks hookers. Bourbon and Nickleman get on the same page and they both lift their knees into his gut. Bifford doubles over. Together they hook Biff...they lift him up and they POWERBOMB him into the mat!!! The crowd is stunned by the sight. Somehow the ring remains intact. Bourbon and Nickleman look down at the unconscious legend. “He ain’t getting up from that.” “I’ll bet even Dangerous Dan could pin him.” And with that being said, Bourbon allows Nickleman to do the honors. He pins Biff. But, Bifford’s eyes fly open with flames burning inside upon hearing the notion that he’d get pinned by Dan! He ROARS! He tosses Nickleman off of him, high into the air! Nickleman hits the mat and rolls out of the ring. Bourbon looks on in shock. Bifford reaches his feet and Bobby goes to superkick him...but Bifford catches the leg, tosses it back and takes Bourbon down with a lariat! The fans are going wild! Bifford turns to the opponent’s corner...and he heads for the turnbuckle~

Smith: Biff is on fire!

Hood: Should’ve never brought Dan into this. That’s Bifford’s arch nemesis. Even if Biff is like 30-0 against the guy.

Smith: He was dead to right…my how things can change. Never underestimate the fire of an OCW Hall of Famer!

Hood: And, I guess he’s going to tag murdering owl woman into the match...might as well, least she can do is keep ONE of the bastards distracted so they aren’t double teaming him the entire time.

~Bifford RIPS the turnbuckle open with his bare hands and finds the key!! He grabs it and heads to tag Alice. Bourbon, however, gets up and throws his shoulder into Bifford to block him. But Bifford’s giant body and massive legs push Bourbon back...Bobby is losing ground. Nickleman slides in. He joins the fight, helping Bobby block Bifford from releasing Alice. They stymie his movement...he’s stalled out. So, remembering what Bourbon did...Bifford throws the key at Alice! Alice yells, ‘I GOT IT!!!’ She gets into position, looking up as the key floats through the air in slow motion...it comes down and completely by passes her hands and hits her in the forehead, bouncing off and to the floor. All the fans groan~

Smith: NO!

Hood: Geezus. She is the fucking worse. She’s got the coordination of a newborn giraffe.

Smith: How is she going to get freed now?

~Bifford sighs. He’s been saddled with incompetence. The end of his tag title aspirations are near. Alice, however, calmly slips her hand out of the cuff, hops off the apron, grabs the key, gets back on the apron, slides her hand back in the cuff and unlocks it! The fans go wild~

Smith: Look at her go!!!

Hood: Are you fucking kidding? She could’ve freed herself whenever she wanted?

Smith: Haha, she’s so great!

~Alice tosses her pet rock into the crowd and yells ‘RELEASE THE KRAKEN!!!!’ The rock hits a fan in the head, knocking him out. He’s immediately trampled by a bunch of other fans as they all hoot and flap their wings. Alice hops onto the top rope...Bourbon and Nickleman turn around, shaken by the commotion. Alice yells, “What’s up, buttholes?!” She leaps off with a crossbody!! But they catch her...Bifford, however, sweeps the four legs of the two men, allowing Alice to finish the move, landing on top of them!! The fans go wild!! Alice pops to her feet...she struts around, flapping her wings. The fans go insane chanting “OWL IS NIGHT! OWL IS NIGHT!” Bifford looks on...kinda amazed, kinda horrified~

Smith: AND THERE SHE GOES!!!

Hood: A match featuring three grown ass, badass men weighing near or over 300 lbs...AND ALICE KNIGHT IS THE HOT TAG.

Smith: THIS IS A NIGHT TO REMEMBER!

~Nickleman is the first one up, the fresher of the two. He sees Alice and he goes after her...her back is too him as she’s too busy HOOTING and STRUTTING. Bifford intercepts Nickleman, bull rushing the former Savage Champion into the ropes. Bourbon rushes over to help his bastard brother. He hits Bifford in the back of the head. Bifford turns around. Bourbon kicks him in the gut and goes for a powerbomb all by himself! Nickleman hurries over to help...they get Bifford up and BOOM! Bobbybomb!! The bastards in the rafters go crazy~

Smith: He powerbombed Bifford!

Hood: That’s some re...ridiculous strength there!

Smith: Easy, Hood!

~Nickleman slaps Bobby in the chest! “You did it!’ Bourbon yells back, “We did it!” Alice HOOTS and rushes in, shoving Nickleman’s head into Bobby’s!! Double noggin knocker!! They stumble. Alice kicks Bobby in the gut and she drops him with THE APACHE!! Bourbon is down!! Alice HOOOOOOTS! She turns around...but Nickleman kicks Alice in the gut. He drops her with Devil Hook Drop!!! Alice’s head hits the mat...her body shoots straight up. Nickleman pops back up, staring at Alice in disbelief. Alice’s eyes are wide...she then HOOTS right in his face before kicking him in the gut and dropping him with THE APACHE!! The adrenaline wears off and Alice remains down...all four competitors are down...the fans stomp, clap, and chant “OWL IS NIGHT!” “BIFFORD” and “BASTARDS!” The arena is going wild~

Smith: Four finishers to four wrestlers...they’re all down! The tag titles hang in the balance!

Hood: We need to test Alice for steroids AND meth. She no sold that Devil Hook Drop like she was high as a mother fucker.

Smith: She’s just high on life, Hood!

Hood: Maybe she smokes owl shit. I wouldn’t put anything past her.

Smith: She would never!

~Bourbon sits up. He’s dazed from The Apache...but he manages to get to his feet. THE BIG BIFFORD stirs. Bourbon sees this and heads over, throwing a kick at his face...but Bifford grabs the leg of Bourbon and reaches his feet. Bobby hops on one leg. What’s Bifford gonna do? Not much because Nickleman hits him from behind! Bifford drops Bobby’s leg...Nickleman attacks. But Alice crawls forward and grabs onto Nickleman’s leg! Nickleman tries to shake her off. Bifford starts to turn around but Nickleman locks him in a sleeper~

Smith: This is chaotic!

Hood: No shit.

~Bourbon sees a prone Bifford. He rises up on the middle rope and measure him up. But, Alice lets go of Nickleman’s leg and crawls between his legs and Bifford’s! She pops up and dives forward, slamming her head into Bobby’s gut. She then hops onto the middle rope, grabs Bourbon by the head and takes him down with THE APACHE from the second rope!!! The fans go wild! Alice struts and hoots! Bourbon rolls out of the ring. Nickleman sees what Alice just did to his fellow bastard and he lets Bifford go. He charges at Alice...she turns, sees Nickleman and tries to call a timeout...but he clotheslines her over the top rope and to the floor!!~

Smith: Alice took Bourbon out. Now Nickleman has taken Alice out!

Hood: Thank goodness. Get her OUT of there.

~Nickleman turns back to get Bifford...but he gets a big boot to the gut! Bifford hooks Nickleman, picks him up and drops him with THE BIFF END!! The OCW contingent go wild!! Bifford hooks the leg! Scruff dives in with the count...the PROUD AND STRONG count along~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here are your winners...AND NEW OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…BIFFORD AND THE BEAST!!!!!

Smith: Yes! She did it! SHE DID IT!

Hood: Whoa...WHOA! Bifford did it!

Smith: Alice got in there and WHAM, POW, BAM, SMASH! She was on fire!

Hood: I wish she was LITERALLY on fire. That’d be pretty cool.

~Nickleman rolls out of the ring. Bifford gets to his feet and Scruff hands him the tag titles. He looks at them both and starts to exit...but Alice slides back in. Bifford turns, looking at her. She extends her hands for her belt~

Smith: She’s your partner, Biff! Give her that belt!

Hood: Nah, keep it. You can team with Earl and do just as well.

~Alice sticks out her bottom lip and lets out a sad ‘hoot’. The fans rally behind her, urging Biff to DO THE RIGHT THING. Biff sighs and he tosses the belt at her feet before stepping through the ropes. Alice picks up the title and the fans go wild! She hops through the ropes and catches up with Biff halfway toward the stage, hooting and talking all about stuff Bifford has no interest in~

Smith: Bifford and Alice have done it! They have captured tag team gold! They have defeated the bastards!

Hood: If the tag titles really, truly are the ‘heart’ of the bastards then, well, Biff and Alice just ripped their heart out.

Smith: What a team! My gosh, I don’t think I’ve seen a team that strong since Leo and Kate!

Hood: Who?

Smith: Titanic, c’mon!

Hood: Oh for fuck’s sake. Let’s cut to something else!

~We cut backstage for MORE AWARDS~

Who’Re: Hey everyone! Wow, another great match!

AKB: Welsh can rest easy. The bastards will NOT be the beneficiaries of a clean sweep.

Who’Re: Nope, the wacky Hall of Fame duo saw to that! But, we’re not here to tell you what you already know...we’re here to reveal more awards!

AKB: And this portion we’re calling the ‘personality’ portion. So, let’s get to it...let’s reveal this year’s Most Charismatic!

Who’Re: CYPH3R! Ah, I loved him.

AKB: Loved? He ain’t dead, whore. He’s just in prison.

Who’Re: CYPH3R was on the fast track to achieving the type of success Harmon Egan has attained. Unfortunately, situations outside the business derailed him. Hopefully we see him back someday.

AKB: And now we reveal the winner of the 2022 Face of the Year!

Who’Re: MIKE!

AKB: Guy’s cleaning up lately. Maybe he should have retired YEARS ago.

Who’Re: I think PIC had a strong case for this one...but how can you give this to anybody other than Mike? He’s the definition of ‘FACE’.

AKB: One of the most popular wrestlers in history. Which leads us to the anti-face award...the 2022 Heel of the Year…

Who’Re: NO COMMENT

AKB: She’d be totally loathsome if she weren’t so damn sexy.

Who’Re: I just hope she gets smacked around in our next match.

AKB: Mean spirited and a little biased. But, yes, Sahara is the very definition of ‘heel’. She’s on the precipice of breaking into the main event. And with Welsh at the helm, I’m sure she’ll get an OCW Tile shot sooner rather than later. Alright fans...we’ve got one more section of awards to get to and we’ll bring those your way right before our main event. Now, back to the action!

~We cut backstage where Scruff, Tuff, Puff, and Gruff are all discussing any and everything that does NOT relate to officiating. Scruff mentions what shampoo he uses to clean his beard...THE OCW PROUD AND STRONG SHAMPOO, of course. Tuff does a cartwheel. Gruff complains about having to work on a Sunday. Puff ties his shoes and puts on his ref shirt~

Cap Slock: GENTLEMEN

~The refs all stand to attention~

Cap Slock: AT EASE, REFS.

~They relax~

Cap Slock: PUFF, MY DEAR BOY, I’M SORRY TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU’VE BEEN PULLED FROM OFFICIATING TONIGHT’S PARADIGM TITLE MATCH.

Puff: What?! But that’s an extremely enforced rules match and you know I’m a wrestling purist!

Cap Slock: YES BUT MR WELSH HAS DECIDED THIS MATCH NEEDS A NEW REFEREE GIVEN SAHARA’S MEDICAL ISSUES.

~We can kinda hear the mental eyeroll going on in the room~

Cap Slock: SO YOU GUYS TAKE A BREAK. OCW’S NEW REF ‘STUFF’ WILL HANDLE IT FROM HERE.

~Stuff walks in. He’s very tan, buffed, and oiled up. He’s also wearing short shorts which show a giant bulge in the crotch region~

Stuff: Happy to be of service.

Cap Slock: ALRIGHT STUFF, YOU’D BETTER HEAD TO THE RING. BIG MATCH COMING UP.

Stuff: Yes, and I know what to do. You tell Welsh I’ve got this.

~Stuff wiggles his hips a bit before turning around and leaping out of the locker room. Cap Slock shrugs as the other refs complain...well, aside from head ref Scruff. He’s seen it all, baby. Nothing surprises him anymore~

Smith: A NEW ref for THIS match?

Hood: Makes sense. We have to make sure Crash doesn’t injure Sahara.

Smith: Welsh specifically picked this guy out and hired him to ref THIS match.

Hood: Yes, to protect Sahara. Aren’t you listening?

Smith: I don’t like the sounds of this, Hood.

Hood: And the sounds of this don’t like you, Smith.

Smith: Welsh is clearly enamored with Sahara. It would not surprise me if he hired ‘Stuff’ to make Crash play by the rules while turning a blind eye toward Sahara.

Hood: Haha, oh don’t be ridiculous.

Smith: Well, one way or another we’re going to find out.

Paradigm Championship
Extremely Enforced Rules Match
Sahara (c) (10-4) vs. Crash Rodriguez (13-6-1)

~We cut to the ring. Belvedere stands with a mic and watches as the very recently hired referee STUFF steps in through the ropes. The fans instantly boo the man. He looks around, confused...points at himself like ‘What? Me?’ he then flashes a shitty grin. More boos~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is an Extremely Enforced Rules Match meaning every rule in pro wrestling will be watched extremely closely and enforced with the greatest of force. The title can change hands on a disqualification. This match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Paradigm Championship!!!

Smith: And much like our previous two matches, this one feels as though it was booked and set up to favor the opponent of B.O.B.

Hood: Protect your investment, Smith. No bigger investment for Welsh than OCW.

~Belvedere pauses, allowing the heat to die down a bit before he continues~

Belvedere: And now, introducing the challenger…

~"No Love" by Death Grips hits! The fans pop! It’s not that Crash is some great guy or anything but they really, really loathe the alternative in this situation. Crash emerges with Lou behind him. Crash’s fists are taped. He looks ready to go, staring a hole right through the ring as he marches down the ramp. Lou talks trash while hyping up his client to any and every person within earshot~

Belvedere: From Kansas City, Missouri...standing 5’11 and weighing in at 207lbs...he is a former OCW Craze Champion...he is ‘The Crooked Man’ Crash Rodriguez!!!

Smith: Crash Rodriguez...a man many think will ascend to the top of OCW in the year 2023 begins his journey tonight with the Paradigm Title on the line.

Hood: He reminds me a lot of Bob Grenier, ya know? Hard worker. Heart and soul of the place...just needs to catch fire and it’ll happen.

Smith: He’s put in the work, that’s for sure. But victory is far from a lock...this is going to be quite the challenge.

~Crash hops onto the apron before reaching his feet. He looks across the ring at Stuff. Lou points into the ring, throwing some warnings Stuff’s way. Stuff slowly approaches. Crash enters and comes face to face with the new ref. Stuff then grabs Crash’s arms and thoroughly starts to check the taped fists. The fans BOOO loudly~

Smith: Is this really necessary?

Hood: It’s an extremely enforced rules match, Smith! Crash could have deadly weapons taped under those fists!

Smith: So frustrating.

~Stuff finishes looking at Crash’s hands...he then looks up at Crash before slowly releasing his hands. Crash stares down at Stuff. If this were CLASSIC OCW, BABY he would have decked the ref by now...but given the stipulation, he’s got to keep his cool. Stuff turns and nods to Belvedere~

Belvedere: And now…

~Boos from the crowd. SO MANY BOOS~

it seems strange that my life should end
in such a terrible place…

~The booing intensifies as the lights dim, fog slowly rolls over the stage as if emanating from a dark beyond. The random sounds of a radio tuning through various stations floats over the arena as bright white lights suddenly shine up from beneath the stage, bathing the entryway in an angelic glow. Slowly, white webbing begins to appear on the darkened tron as of a spider spinning it's web...~

ADRENALIZE ME

~As the hard-hitting beat of In This Moment’s ‘Adrenalize Me’ begins pumping through the arena, The White Widow, Sahara Duke emerges through the ghostly fog, Paradigm Title fastened securely around her waist...~

COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER
BEFORE WE BEGIN
LEMME TELL YOU HOW I WANT IT
AND EXACTLY WHAT I NEED

~As Sahara moves toward the center of the rampway, her rows of platinum braids shine from within the shadows. Clad in black and white attire, one of her boots is emblazoned with the word White, and the other Widow. Her jaw is clenched tight, and her face etched with a permanent scowl of condescension. She slowly turns her gaze toward the fans before locking eyes on the squared circle as webs continue to engulf the tron, spelling out the name... SAHARA~

I'M HERE FOR ONE DRUG
I'M ONLY HERE FOR ONE THING
SO COME ON AND TELL ME
CAN YOU FLY LIKE YOU'RE FREE?

~As the music continues to tell her tangled tale, she charges toward the ring and jump slides through the bottom rope...~

Belvedere: From Chicago, Illinois...standing 5’10 and weighing in at 155lbs...she is the OCW Paradigm Champion...she is...Sahara!!!

~BOOOOO go the fans! Sahara pops to her feet, immediately tossing her ice cold gaze onto Crash. Crash stands in his corner, doing what he can to contain his anger. Lou works to talk him down from outside the ring. Stuff approaches the champion...he asks for her hands~

Smith: Well, at least he’s going to be consistent, checking her for weapons as well.

Hood: See? Totally above board. Although we all know Sahara would never cheat.

Smith: Yea, sure, whatever.

~Stuff looks down at Sahara’s hands before bending over and kissing them! BOOOOO!!! The fans are irate! Well, except for some of the VIP fans. They seem to adore Sahara. Crash throws his arms in the air. He steps forward but Lou reaches in, grabbing him by the leg warning his client not to cost himself the match before it even begins~

Smith: Oh come on!

Hood: Hey, he’s showing her the respect she deserves. This man is clearly someone with opulent taste.

~Stuff lets Sahara’s hands go. He reaches out, grabbing her shoulder and asking if she’s okay...if she’s physically ready to compete. Sahara nods that she is. MORE BOOING. Stuff says, “You’re very tough and brave.” He then takes the Paradigm Title from her and holds it up high! More booing! He gives it to Belvedere who exits the ring. Crash is just glaring at Stuff and Sahara. Stuff then signals for the bell and it rings!~

Smith: Probably the worst start to a match in history. Crash might as well tap out. He’s not winning this one.

Hood: Wow, a lot of faith you have in The Crooked Man. You must think he really sucks.

Smith: I think he’s amazing! I just can’t see anybody overcoming THESE odds.

~Crash steps from his corner and heads with a purpose toward Sahara. Stuff immediately gets in his way, stopping him. Crash is like ‘WTF’. Lou yells from ringside. Stuff drops down...he forgot to check Crash’s boots. Sahara instructs Stuff to look through those boots very thoroughly~

Smith: What a joke.

Hood: Hey, shanking someone with a knife that was hidden in your boot is no joke, Smith. He might have just saved Sahara’s life.

Smith: I’m sure it’s taking everything Crash has to not knee that referee in the face.

~Finally, Stuff finishes and acknowledges that Crash can continue. Stuff moves out of his way...but he blocked Crash enough to allow Sahara room to dive in, grab Crash by the arm and toss him over with an arm drag!! She holds onto his arm, applying the pressure. The fans BOOOOO!! Sahara twists and jerks on Crash’s arm. The frustration in Crash’s eyes tell the story, but mentally he tries to work through it~

Smith: An opponent like Sahara is already dangerous enough. She doesn’t need any help. A leg up like she just received could be what makes the difference.

Hood: If a fuckin arm drag is going to defeat Crash then he should retire and go mess around with boxes or something.

~Crash fights through the pain, using his superior strength and size to get to his feet...he whips Sahara off of him and into the ropes. She bounces off and Crash takes her over with a hip toss! Sahara hits hard! She hurries back to her feet only to get taken down with a second hip toss!! She hurries to her feet again...this time she’s met with a dropkick from Crash!!! Sahara hits the mat and rolls out of the ring, holding her face in pain. Crash starts to go after her, but Stuff gets in his way. More booing from the fans~

Smith: Why’s he stopping Crash?!

Hood: Outside fighting is illegal, duh.

Smith: He’s got a ten count out there, Hood!

Hood: Hey, I don’t make the rules up.

~Crash argues with Stuff...Sahara slides back in. Crash moves Stuff out of the way so he can get after her...but she sweeps his legs, knocking him to the mat. She pops to her feet, holding onto one of his legs...she drives and elbow down into the knee. Crash yells out, holding his knee in pain. Sahara pops back to her feet, holding his leg...she’s looking confident. She kicks at the knee before leaning forward, contemplating some move...Crash, though, kicks forward sending Sahara’s body flying into the corner, her platinum hair tossing around violently. Crash hurries to his feet...he charges in at Sahara and hits her with a splash!! The crowd pops! Finally, some momentum for Crash! He whips Sahara out of the corner...she sprints across the ring and SLAMS into the corner! The crowd gets louder! Crash charges in and he flies through the air with a HUGE splash!! The crowd is going wild! Crash goes to whip her again...but this time she reverses and then YANKS on Crash’s hair, pulling him to the mat!!! Lou screams, “DQ! DQ!!” But Stuff shrugs like he didn’t see anything. More BOOING from the fans! One fan is heard yelling “FUCKIN BULLSHIT!” Sahara drops to one knee, she grabs Crash by the head and hooks him in a chinlock...she leans into him, cutting off his air supply as the fans continue to boo~

Smith: That was a clear hair pull, Hood! Now you have to admit THAT’S against the rules.

Hood: Only thing I’ll admit is that if a grown man doesn’t want to get his hair pulled he should keep it neatly trimmed.

Smith: You’re hopeless.

~Crash slaps the mat...Stuff asks if that was a tap out. Crash is like “Are you fucking kidding me?” Pissed off, he fires up...he gets to his feet. Sahara holds on...she takes his back, wrapping her legs around his body. Crash drives his body back, into the corner, smashing Sahara!! But, she won’t let go...her grip is weakened, though...so Crash steps toward the center of the ring and he flips her over his head, slinging her to the mat! She lands on her ass with a painful bump! The fans go wild! She winces, reaching for her tailbone. Stuff asks if she’s okay...Crash charges in with a stiff kick into her spine! She arches her back in pain. Crash goes to grab her by the hair...but Stuff warns he’ll DQ Crash if he does that...so, Crash grabs Sahara by the arm, pulling her up. It feels so weird, The Crooked Man forced to abide by these strict rules. He whips her into the ropes...she bounces off...Crash throws a lariat...but Sahara ducks! She hits the ropes...jumps up, lands on the middle rope and leaps off with a moonsault!! Crash catches her!! He’s got her draped over his shoulder...he backs into a corner, looking for a running powerslam...he takes off...but she rakes her nails across his face!!! He drops her and staggers forward. The fans BOOOO!!! Again, Stuff acts like he didn’t see anything. Sahara hits the ropes...a blinded Crash moves toward the noise...she bounces off, leaps up, wraps her legs around his head and takes him over with a Hurricanrana!! Crash’s body hits the mat before sliding into a corner where he’s left seated against the bottom buckle. Sahara returns to her feet, holding her back...she starts to bitch to Stuff about that kick he allowed Crash to get in on her spine~

Smith: I don’t know what she’s complaining about...that was a perfectly legal kick!

Hood: Are we sure about that? A kick to the spine sounds like it might be illegal, to me.

Smith: In no pro wrestling federation in the history of this insane industry has that EVER been illegal.

~Stuff apologizes to Sahara and reassures her that he’ll be more vigilant. Sahara turns her focus back to Crash. He’s still seated in the corner. She charges in, jumps in the air and slams both her knees into his head. Crash is worse for wear. Sahara returns to her feet and she jams her foot into his face...it slides lower and lower...near his throat. He starts to cough. Lou yells at Stuff, ‘SHE’S CHOKING HIM!’ Stuff comes in and looks...he looks very, very closely. He then deems that the foot isn’t on the throat. Lou, “ARE YOU FUCKIN SERIOUS?!” Lou then leans in, realizing talking to the ref is useless, he starts urging Crash to fight through it, informing his client that he’s got a tall task ahead of him so he’s got to put forth double the effort. The message gets through...he grabs Sahara by the leg and shoves her foot off his throat. She staggers back toward the center of the ring. Crash reaches up, pulling himself to his feet with the top rope. Sahara charges...she leaps into the air with a cross body...but Crash catches her...he then throws her into the corner with a Fallaway Slam!! The fans cheer and grimace...the impact is nasty. She lands, back first into the buckles before crashing recklessly to the mat. Crash takes a knee and a moment to catch his wind~

Smith: Fallaway Slam into the corner. No protection there for our Paradigm Champion.

Hood: Yea, was that a legal move? I mean, should Crash be DQ’d?

Smith: Of course it was legal! My goodness. You’re almost as bad as Stuff.

~Crash rises...he pulls Sahara out of the corner by her arm. He gets her up and he hooks her for Total Loss (Cross Rhodes)!!!! The fans rise with anticipation...Stuff looks around, nervous. Crash pauses for a moment...the moment allows Sahara to break free and nail him from behind with a low blow!!! Crash doubles over, dropping to his hands and knees. Sahara gets back to her feet...she hits the ropes, bounces off, runs at Crash and delivers a soccer style kick from behind, right into his balls!! He drops to the mat, coughing uncontrollably, in immense pain. Stuff just looks at Sahara...Sahara looks back at him like, “What are you going to do?” And, he does nothing. Lou removes his coat and he hops onto the apron...he’s seen just about enough~

Smith: C’mon, Lou! Stand up for your client!

Hood: He’s gonna get Crash DQ’d!

Smith: Ugh...yea, you’re right. Back down, Lou!

~Stuff warns Lou not to get involved. Sahara points at him and laughs while looking down at Crash. Lou grinds his teeth...his fists are balled up...but he restrains himself, hopping off the apron to the floor. He turns and kicks the barricade as hard as he can, venting. Sahara goes back after Crash. She snares him by the hair, really flaunting her advantage at this point...she pulls him into a seated position and she locks in a SLEEPER...but, I mean, it’s clearly a choke. She’s cutting off all the wind, choking the life out of the Crooked Man. Stuff drops to one knee, checking on Crash who is clearly being choked out~

Smith: She’s going to choke him out and win this match. What a travesty!

Hood: What a woman! What a competitor! WHAT A CHAMPION!

Smith: Makes me sick!

~Lou looks on, helpless. Should he dive in there and save his client from being choked the fuck out...even though it’d cost him the match? Sahara talks shit to Crash as his lights start to go out. He’s barely breathing at this point. Stuff grabs his arm...he lifts it up and it falls to the mat. He yells out “ONE!” He grabs it again, lifts it and drops it...he yells out, “TWO!”~

Smith: One more, and it’s over.

Hood: Dominating performance by the greatest champion of our lifetime, Smith.

Smith: No comment.

~Stuff goes to raise the arm for a third time...but a voice over the PA interrupts him~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…

~Stuff rises, looking down at Belvedere. We cut to Belvedere and see him standing next to PUFF. Puff is holding his phone with a video playing. Belvedere watches. Sahara looks up at Stuff and yells, “HEY! THE ARM! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, IDIOT?”~

Belvedere: I have just been handed a video message sent from our owner, Miss Adi Gold. She has ordered that Puff be reinstated as referee and for Stuff to take the rest of the night off!!

~The crowd goes wild!! Sahara screams, releasing the choke hold and heading for the ropes. Belvedere just takes a seat. Puff walks up the steps. Sahara turns to Stuff...he has nothing for her...he turns to exit, but she turns him around and slaps him across the face. She hits the ropes, comes off and BASHES Stuff in the head with a Superman Punch!! He flies backwards, through the ropes and to the outside. Still irate, she returns to her feet and turns toward Puff...she goes to touch him but he motions that he’ll DQ her so fast her head will spin. Her eyes widen...she screams out in frustration~

Smith: Yes! Aha! Miss Adi Gold setting things right!

Hood: The fix is in, Smith! Adi once dated Sahara’s current husband...she can’t stand to see Sahara succeed! Can’t stand it!

Smith: I doubt very much that has anything to do with this, Hood. She’s righting a clear wrong. Puff was supposed to call this thing from the outset...he clearly took his complaint to the highest authority and she corrected an error.

Hood: He went over Welsh’s head. That’s gonna cost him.

~Realizing her advantage is gone, urgency sets in. Sahara turns around to get back after Crash...but she finds him already on his feet! He boots her in the gut!! The fans go wild!! He hooks her head...he hoists her up and he drops her with a suplex!!! Sahara arches her back in pain. Crash gets back to his feet, quickly...Sahara struggles to hers...she finds the ropes, using them to stand...she turns around and she gets clotheslined over the top rope to the outside!! She lands hard...her body down next to Stuff!! The fans chant ‘YES! YES! YES!’ Crash starts to go outside...but Puff heads over, warning him that he’ll be watching Crash closely…he’s not gonna let any shit slide from EITHER competitor. Crash nods, respecting that~

Smith: Finally, some REAL authority in this one.

Hood: This is why we can’t have nice things, Smith! Sahara should be facing PIC for the OCW Title tonight...instead, she’s getting screwed over by some obese referee.

Smith: If she wants to ascend to the top of OCW she’ll have to earn it...just like everybody else!

Hood: Fucking lame.

~Crash hops through the ropes and he grabs Sahara by her top, pulling her to her feet. He shoves her back against the guardrail. She’s prone and open for a shot. But Puff yells out, “NO!” Crash grits his teeth...this is gonna be harder than he realized. He then grabs Sahara and slings her toward the ring, she rolls back in under the bottom rope. Crash slides in behind her...he pops to his feet. He pulls Sahara up using her top and he hooks a front face lock. Lou slaps the apron, yelling out random moves he could do that wouldn’t get him disqualified. He yells, “Ground and Pound!” Puff points at Lou and wags his finger ‘no’. Lou is like, “Really? Lame.” Crash continues to work the front face lock. Puff gets in real close to see if he’s choking her. Crash isn’t sure...all he knows is that if Puff THINKS he’s choking her, the match is over. So, Crash quickly swings Sahara before dropping her with a Swinging Neck Breaker!! Sahara holds her neck in pain. Crash sits up...he looks over at Lou. Lou kinda signals some stuff into him...Crash wears a mask of confusion~

Smith: Lou is trying to help Crash out with some move ideas...but I don’t think they went over those signals much.

Hood: Or, at all.

Smith: Crash’s entire repertoire is centered around violence and brawling. This type of match takes all of that away.

~Sahara sits up. Crash heads over and he places a knee into her back before locking his hands under her chin. He pulls back, continuing to work the neck. Sahara winces...her neck tightening and twisting in pain. She reaches up, grabbing the back of Crash’s head. Puff looks in, making sure she doesn’t have any of his hair...it’s clean. She pushes up with her legs...she’s going for a jawbreaker...she jumps up...but Crash, anticipating the move, uses her momentum to flip her over onto his shoulder before he drives her shoulder first down onto his knee with a shoulder breaker!! Sahara hits the mat, holding her shoulder, rolling around in pain~

Smith: The neck. The shoulder...all target areas for Crash who targets those weakened spots when delivering his finishing maneuver.

Hood: Yea, if you think about it, this type of match might really improve his overall game. Teach him how to play within the rules.

Smith: Yes. I think it’s wonderful.

Hood: I mean his next match will probably be a knife throwing death fight...but, whatever. I’m sure the skills he learns in this one could be used while teaching some female self defense course.

~Crash quickly grabs the arm of Sahara’s affected shoulder. He hooks an armbar...but not too deep. He doesn’t lock these in much. Sahara is able to roll around...she rolls forward, she flips back, she gets out and switches positions, snaring Crash’s arm! Very impressive! So much so that she brags...and, gets dropped with a clothesline from Crash! Sahara hits the mat hard...her eyes glazing over as she stares up at the lights, fighting through the pain~

Smith: Yes, Sahara...we all saw how athletic you can be. Next time, stay focused.

Hood: You kinda feel like she’s a ship without a captain in OCW since that other guy left.

Smith: Her husband?

Hood: Yea, him. You think she’s just biding her time until she loses this belt so she can skip town as well?

Smith: Could be.

Hood: Well, if she does, at least she handled her departure like a professional.

~Crash reaches down to grab her by the neck...but Puff gives a stern warning...so he grabs her arm instead, pulling her back to her feet. She gets to her feet and pulls her arm away, slapping Crash across the face as hard as she can...a loud POP! Crash is infuriated...he balls up his fist and brings it back...Lou yells, “NO!” Sahara begs him to hit her...he looks like he’s about to...but he stops, showing discipline...he kicks her in the gut, brings her in and drops her on her head with a DDT! It compresses her neck! She lands hard...rolling around, holding her neck in pain. Crash sits up, shaking his head...this stipulation is beyond frustrating~

Smith: He’s struggling with the rules but so far, so good.

Hood: haha he’s gonna wind up breaking her neck by staying within the rules

Smith: He’s certainly targeting it. Both his finishers are ‘neck’ focused...so if he’s able to hit one, that’ll likely be the end of Sahara’s Paradigm reign.

~Sahara comes to rest face down, holding her neck. Crash maneuvers over, seeing an opening...he grabs onto Sahara and adroitly locks in Crossface!! The bastard fans go wild! Sahara’s neck is bent backwards as Crash does his best to snap her in half. She screams in pain, his hands connected just under her nose. She reaches out with her hands, trying to find the ropes...but she’s too far away~

Smith: A crossface! He’s got her in a crossface! She might tap!

Hood: Which would make some men fap.

Smith: Gross!

~Lou looks on, he can sense victory within their grasp. Sahara starts to fight. She starts to show the strength and ability that’s taken her to this level of professional wrestling. Her hands dig into the mat...she pulls and pulls. Crash is bigger, he might be stronger...but Sahara isn’t going to let that knowledge defeat her. She drags the bigger man the necessary distance so she can reach out and snare the bottom rope!! Puff comes in, immediately breaking the hold. Crash lets it go, knowing there is zero tolerance. He gets to his feet and looks down at Sahara, shocked at her strength. But, he stays after her...he grabs her by the legs and hooks them under his arms...he falls back with a catapult...Sahara’s body flies through the air as her face slams into the top buckle of the nearest corner, wrecking her neck!!! She stumbles back...Crash rolls her up! Puff drops down for the pin~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: She kicked out! But, man, her neck is taking consistent damage. How much does she have left?

Hood: Her neck, her back…

Smith: Yes, we don’t need to hear the rest of those lyrics.

~Crash gets back to his feet in a hurry. Sahara is on all fours...Crash drives and elbow down into the back of her neck, sending her face down onto the mat. He returns to his feet...he grabs Sahara by the arm and pulls her up...she’s having trouble standing, holding her neck near her shoulder, trying to alleviate the pain. Crash delivers a vicious knife edged chop into her chest, staggering the champ. He spins her around and hooks her head...Total Loss! Total Loss! He’s going for Total Loss! Sahara, realizing her lights are about to go out, kicks off the mat with her feet, brings her knees up to Crash’s face and drops to the mat with an upside down Codebreaker!! Crash stumbles back into a corner, stunned! The crowd pops for the move! Sahara remains on her back, holding her neck~

Smith: Wow! What an innovative take on a pretty overused move!

Hood: Definitely shook Crash. Buys her some time to maybe slip Puff some cash.

Smith: I don’t think that’s gonna work, Hood.

~Sahara rolls over and gets to her feet...Crash is still in the corner. Sahara charges at him and she dives head first into his midsection...but Crash lifts his body up! Sahara’s shoulder and neck SLAM into the middle buckle! Crash then dives behind her and takes her over with a Sunset Flip out of the corner!!! He’s got her hooked! Puff drops down for the count~

1!

2!

3!!

NO!

Smith: Sahara kicks out, barely!

Hood: Fuckin woman with an injured neck just barreled in there like Pete Rose

Smith: She throws her body around, Hood. She does what she has to in an effort to overcome whatever disadvantage she might be facing.

~Sahara tries to beat Crash to his feet, but she pauses on one knee. Her neck giving her a bunch of trouble. Crash is on his feet...Sahara finally rises to meet him, but her delay allows Crash to hit her with a Mongolian Neck Chop! Her body seizes up. Crash hooks her by the head...he twists her around and he drops her with Total Loss!!!! The crowd gasps! The bastards go wild! Crash takes a minute to catch his breath before covering Sahara. The bastards count along~

1!

2!

3!!!!

NO!

Smith: Shoulder up! Shoulder up!

Hood: Fuckin Sahara. She’s the REAL champ!

Smith: I can’t believe after everything that’s happened to her neck she kicked out of Total Loss.

Hood: I guess she’s got more to lose, eh? Ha ha ha

~Crash can’t believe it. He looks at Puff. But Puff shows him two followed by the ‘shoulder up’ motion. Crash is like, ‘Bullshit!’ He looks down at Sahara...she’s on her side, prone. He gets to his feet and he starts kicking at her. She tries to roll away, finding the bottom rope and resting her arms over it...Crash lifts his foot like he wants to stomp on the back of her head, choking her neck against that rope...but Lou urges him to calm down. The Crooked Man takes a pause...he walks around a bit, trying to let his anger...his temper subside~

Smith: Crash is on the verge of making a decision here. One that could cost him a lot.

Hood: He needs to chill out. One wrong move. One illegal shot and it’s all over.

Smith: He’s got the upper hand. He just needs to stay calm.

~Lou slaps the apron, “Crash Landing!” Crash looks down at Lou...he then looks at Sahara. He nods. It’s time for Crash Landing. He grabs Sahara by her top and pulls her off the bottom rope to her feet. He shoves her into the ropes...she leans against them, front first. Crash turns his back to her...he locks his arms around hers and he stands up! He’s got Sahara draped across his back, her head pointed down at the mat~

Smith: Here it comes! Crash Landing! It’s over if he hits this!

Hood: Not just the match...maybe Sahara’s fuckin career!

~Crash looks into the camera. He takes a breath...but Sahara’s legs lock around his head...she pulls forward and she takes him over with an inverted hurricanrana!!! Crash’s head spikes on the mat!!! He sits up for a moment before falling over! Sahara is laying on the mat, still dealing with all of her issues. Lou’s hands grasp at his hair as he looks on in shock. The fans go wild for the reversal~

Smith: Amazing! After everything she had enough awareness and strength to pull that off!

Hood: Son of a bitch. This is why she’s the best! This is why she’s the champ! Did you really think she’d lose TWICE to Crash?

Smith: I know that loss has bothered her for awhile now. A win here would finally silence the critics.

~Crash reaches out for the bottom rope. He grabs onto it and begins returning to his feet via the aid of the ropes. Sahara remains down near the center of the ring. He stands over Sahara, staring down at her head...he pushes her onto her back and reaches down to grab her by the head...she then kicks a leg up, smacking Crash in the face! He stumbles back. Sahara rolls over and fights to her feet...Crash steps forward, reaching for her but she throws a roundhouse kick, nailing him in the head! He staggers around...she then jumps up and delivers a big dropkick!! Picture perfect! Crash’s body flies into the nearest corner where it sulks, hanging via the ropes. Sahara gets to one knee and holds her neck~

Smith: Sahara’s got some momentum...the Paradigm Champion can see the finish line!

Hood: Man...should Crash just punch her in the face...ya know, get out of here saying he lost but didn’t get beat?

Smith: That’s a cowards way out, Hood!

Hood: Bastards can be cowards, Smith.

~Crash remains in the corner, trying to catch up to the barrage of kicks. Sahara gets to her feet...she runs in and BAM! Enziguri right to the side of Crash’s head! She then boots him in the gut...she pulls him out of the corner and drops him with a Pedigree in the center of the ring! She doesn’t go for the pin...she’s too savvy for that. Instead, she heads for the corner and climbs to the top. Puff looks up at her...he tries to tell her that she can’t use the top rope. She looks down at him like he’s fuckin crazy~

Smith: Are top rope maneuvers illegal?

Hood: Puff certainly thinks so.

Smith: I think they are...I think you’re only supposed to use the corners for in-ring action...no climbing.

Hood: Well, Sahara isn’t going to like that.

~With his back turned, Puff misses Lou reaching into the ring and pulling Crash out, to safety. Sahara shrieks and points. Puff turns around and sees Crash outside the ring, leaning against the barricade with Lou backing away, hands in the air. Puff didn’t catch it...but he’s suspicious. Sahara yells at him to DQ Crash~

Smith: If Crash is DQ’d then Sahara wins and retains her title!

Hood: Puff can’t call the match on something he didn’t see...that’s ridiculous.

Smith: I know Sahara can be a bit...much. Her antics earlier on were uncalled for. But, in this instance, I’m afraid she’s got a point.

~Puff isn’t going to do anything. Sahara stomps on the mat and points at him, furious. He tries to tell her to calm down. Crash stumbles toward the ring, leaning over the apron. As he does, we see a massive figure leap over the guardrail~

Smith: Hood! Somebody just jumped the guard rail!

Hood: Holy shit!

~The unknown man delivers a vicious double axe handle to the back of Crash’s head! Lou rushes over only to get punched to the ground. The assailant grabs Crash and he slings him into the barricade head first! Crash hits HARD! The unknown man begins to stomp the shit out of Crash. Sahara and Puff look on, stunned. Puff snaps out of it and he looks at Sahara...she says “Don’t you do it...DON’T YOU DO IT!!” Puff then calls for the bell~

Smith: Puff’s calling the match!

Hood: What? Are you fucking serious?

Belvedere: Here is your winner…

Hood: No. No. NoNoNoNoNo…

Belvedere: AND NEW OCW PARADIGM CHAMPION...CRASH RODRIGUEZ!!!!!

Hood: NOOO!!!!

Smith: Someone just attacked Sahara and it cost her the match AND her Paradigm Championship!

Hood: This is fucking disgusting!

~Sahara turns and glares at Puff. He tries to explain how wrestling is a pure sport and he’s a fan of its purity and he must uphold all the...BAM!! Sahara knocks him up with a right hand! He falls through the ropes to the floor. She then looks down at the man who is still attacking Crash. He finally stops and looks up at Sahara...her eyes bulge with shock...it’s a face all too familiar. The fans go wild when they see his face on the OCWTron~

Smith: Hood...It’s Dane Preston!

Hood: Dane fuckin Preston! He just cost Sahara the Paradigm Championship!

Smith: Oh man...these two go WAY back.

Hood: What’s he doing here...ya know, aside from making Sahara’s life a living hell?

Smith: He’s been ‘negotiating’ with Leo on twitter. Maybe Adi called him up and gave him what he wanted.

Hood: I don’t know about all that...but I know he just fucked Sahara...and not in the fun way.

~Preston laughs and blows Sahara a kiss, mockingly, before hopping back over the guardrail and heading through the fans. Sahara is left in the ring, watching Lou collect the Paradigm Title and Preston vanish into the crowd. He grabs at her platinum hair and screams as loud as she can...her voice piercing the ears of everyone~

Smith: Oh my gosh!

Hood: I think my hearing is damaged!

Smith: Sahara has just been robbed of her Paradigm Title via Dane Preston!

Hood: Dane not only fucked Sahara over...but he gave a win to the bastards!

Smith: Yes, the bastards are now 2-1 on the evening. Crash Rodriguez breaks through, winning the biggest championship of his life.

Hood: Thanks to Dane and that WEAK ASS stipulation. He’d better send Dane a get well card. I say get well because Sahara is gonna put the hurt on him just as soon as she can get her hands on him.

Smith: Dane Preston has appeared in OCW. What does it mean? I’m not sure...all I know is he’s cost Sahara the Paradigm Title. He’s helped Crash win the Paradigm Title. A man unknown to most of us is suddenly right in the middle of a ton of controversy.

Hood: Hell of a way to get his career in OCW started.

~And we cut backstage to find Who’Re and AKB one final time~

Who’Re: And, like all good things, these little segments must come to an end.

AKB: We’re about to do our part to close the book on 2022. So, let’s get to this portion of the awards in which I’ll call...umm...THE FINAL PORTION.

Who’Re: Yay!

AKB: We’ll start it off with the OOC Member of the Year!

Who’Re: No idea what that means but let’s see it!

AKB: I mean, this had to be a lock, right?

Who’Re: Strader defined the term ‘PROUD AND STRONG’. Not only did she help resurrect this company post purge but she kept it afloat during tumultuous times this past fall. OCW would not be where it is today without her contributions.

AKB: Fact. And now...we find out who is the winner of the 2022 Finisher of the Year!

Who’Re: Small Package! Yes!

AKB: All the wild and crazy moves on this roster and the SMALL PACKAGE wins Finisher of the Year? All I can say to that is...Classic OCW, Baby!

Who’Re: Okay, Alpha are you ready?

AKB: Wrestler of the Year?

Who’Re: Yep. Got any guesses?

AKB: Well, I mean I think Outcast surviving THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS has to give him a shot.

Who’Re: Definitely. Killa Kali returning and winning the OCW Title was amazing, too. And we can’t forget about Strader.

AKB: Well, let’s get to it...it’s time to find out who won the 2022 Wrestler of the Year Award!

Who’Re: PIC!

AKB: And EPIC year for the OCW Champion.

Who’Re: I’m told he narrowly beat out Bifford for the award.

AKB: Seems like’s narrowly beating Bifford for a lot these days.

Who’Re: A tremendous final accolade for what had to be the greatest year of PIC’s career.

AKB: But it doesn’t end with 2022...PIC puts his OCW Title on the line tonight against Thunder Knuckles!

Who’Re: Can PIC cap off an amazing evening with a huge win or will this award be tainted by that bastard, TK...we’re about to find out!

AKB: Those are your year end awards, folks! Congratulations to all the winners...it was truly well earned. Alright, back to the show!

~Up-and-coming superstar AZAZEL was seen moving through the back of the Key West Arena, mask on to preserve his anonymity and image. He passes by a couple more staffers in the back before he hears something like a whistle; it sounded like it was straight out of The Walking Dead, as if Negan himself was about to appear.

AZAZEL looks around slowly, shaking his head as soon as he dismisses it. He turns to continue his walk through the arena until a man with a wooden Louisville Slugger swings it and makes contact across his ribs. He is wearing a red scarf, enough to cover the majority of his face from the camera, and a black biker jacket with a pair of blue jeans and no shirt.~

Hood: What the hell!?

Smith: An unknown assailant has just attacked Azazel, who is currently 1 and 0 in OCW.

Hood: Whatever, or whoever, it was, they’re looking to take out a few people along the way.

~The assailant laughs, swinging the bat like a golf club across Azazel’s rear end, making crunching contact with his tail bone!~

???: Well...

~Pulling his scarf away, the assailant is revealed to be none other than Donnie Harris!~

Harris: Maybe this is what I need to do to make OCW put their shittin’ pants on, because this gimmick you have here, Azazel, is making you my first target. You might have punished Parody, but you have another thing coming, kid.

~As Azazel tries to move his battered body away from Donnie, another strike comes from the butt of the wooden club, hitting Azazel in the back of the head as boos echo throughout the arena.~

Harris: Pull yourself together, bud, and do something.

~Donnie strikes Azazel across the back once more, enough to crack the wood before tossing his weapon aside and walking out of the frame, EMTs quick to tend to the Fallen Angel.~

Smith: A brazen attack from the 2-and-1 MMA standout; how will Azazel respond?

Hood: He’s a fallen angel, right? Divine vengeance!

Smith: Only time will tell as Decadence continues, here in Key West!

~After the last entertaining piece by premiere OCW Television the mood transitions with a visual of boney hands. Scrolling up to those grotesque overly veiny arms, sucked in neck, and finally to those black dead eyes of Stan's, practically piercing through the lens into viewer souls. Somewhere within the OCW Arena underbelly, Stan looks straight ahead at a steady shot directly back at the camera. Cocking his head, it begins to bob a little like an animal examining potential prey. Stan's demonic state has deteriorated outwardly to a mumble.~

"Pop? We don't have time for this, we have to get a shower and get on to the next show! POPPppPPP!?"

St☠n _ 'MMmmm! New YUM YUM! Must eat more!!' .

~As a hunting predator, his shoulders move independently to his stare being locked in place. His body contours getting closer in a quick disturbing way. His neck and face remain still focused in totality of an instinctual ritual of approach. Stan goes from sitting on a staircase to peeking around a gigantic black equipment case, to being just feet away from the mark of the camera. His head peers over a ledge like a cat about to pounce. Pupils widen in a last right, of sorts, before the inevitable chase leading to consumption. Just barely, the audio microphones pick up a deep purring noise. He narrows in about to strike! Pouncing forward, the shot goes black with the sounds of hardware hitting the floor. From a knocked down side angle, Stan sits against a brick wall trying to collect himself. Tears flow down his cheeks in confusion over what has happened to him. Reflecting and trying to resolve it...~

St☠n _ 'Stannnn still hungryyy, arrgghhhhhhhh!!!' .

"This is what I have become... a troll from underneath a bridge. Now I have to fulfil my needs differently. I recognize the feeling of hunger to survive, but the ravaging intensity of wanting to feed constantly is completely new. My stomach is gnawing on itself when it's not full. I may have fought seven other people tonight, but the soaked in satisfaction lasts about as long as heroine. Everything feels good until it doesn't. You feel good tonight? Another big match at an even bigger show? Larger than life moments like this used to get me off. Now, all I can think about is what I consume next. How will it taste? Will it struggle to accept its fate as lunch or dinner? What will I have to do for the process of acceptance to occur? It keeps escalating to worse and worse... am I even human anymore, Pop? Oh- GOD! Why is this HAPPENEING??"

St☠n _ 'Karma consume Stan, now pay piper! Eat more!' .

~Openly weeping into his hands. After a couple seconds, he tries to figure out the why behind it all~

"What has this horrible act of taking your life under false pretenses done to my well-being? Am I still me? If seven people isn't enough, then what will this escalate to? Going after Champions one by one? Taking out tag teams if I have to, battle royal's, handicap matches... SETTING A NEW STANNNNDARRRD! OHHHHHH!!! There I am! Still inside this beastly circumstance. Not totally lost, but also not found? Juuuuust maybe I can find a way for this new hunger to compliment my lifetime of acquired ring skills? At least I still have some time to try. I need to find a way to channel it... then I will truly be setting a standard. Not for me, Pop, but for you... uh oh, I'm getting hungry again..."

~Fists clinch to handle the impending control the urge has when it takes over~

St☠n _ 'Must make jobber salad out of Decadence leftovers... mmm!' .

"POOOOOOP! Work with me here! Let's make this ours. An unstoppable calling that manifests in the ring... not on a camera backstage! Where's the fun in that?! The Craze Champion might be someone we can both agree on. That type of pedigree massaging our needs should be good enough. I feed on the gold, you feed on what's left when I'm done in that ring. Destruction of someone else to prevent our own mutual one..."

~His dead eyes glimmer as if Pop is stating agreement in body language. Stans grins wide from ear to ear~

St☠n _ 'OOooOoo!!! Want to beat Craze Champion! Would be big yum!!' .

"Deal, old man..."

~Satisfaction writes a new story all over his pale face. Backing out of the segment, the screen goes dark after ever so slightly catching an OCW event truck, with the Craze Champion on the side graphic. We see Stan's skull and crossbones emblem~

Smith: Wild action tonight, fans. And you just saw and heard from two of the most exciting up and coming wrestlers on the roster. The Standard AND Donnie Harris both hope to reach the top of the OCW mountain. A place where our next to competitors currently sit.

Hood: Oh shit, is it time?

Smith: IT'S TIME

Hood: Let's go TK!

Smith: Can PIC fight off the head of the bastards or will Thunder Knuckles take the OCW Title? It's time to find out!

Main Event
OCW Championship
Ball Room Brawl
PIC (c) (21-4) vs. Thunder Knuckles (11-4)

~We cut to an empty Ball Room. The fans inside the OCW Arena are heard going wild at the sight of tonight’s main event. There’s a hardwood dance floor. Several tables surrounding it...all clothed, all featuring plates, silver wear, candles, etc. A piano rests in the corner of the room. In another corner sits a full bar. Belvedere’s voice booms from the OCW Arena into the Ball Room, giving it some life~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This contest is a Ball Room Brawl...meaning it will take place inside an empty Ball Room! It is no disqualification, Falls Count Anywhere! The winner of this match will walk out as THE OCW Champion!!! Introducing first…

~The fans in the OCW Arena chant ‘OCW! OCW!’ Their chants are piped into the Ball Room, continuing to give the setting life~

Smith: And here we are, Hood. The Ball Room Brawl.

Hood: Finally...I can stop hearing people call it a BAR Room Brawl.

Smith: That mistake was made...often.

~“Raise Your Hands” by Bon Jovi begins to play! The fans go wild! It’s the champion! The front of the ballroom activates. Two doors are pulled open by an usher. Once opened, a figure appears...it steps into the Ball Room. It’s PIC! The crowd goes wild~

Belvedere: From Charleston, South Carolina...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 232lbs...he is the OCW Champion...he is the 2022 Wrestler of the Year...he is PIC!!!

~PIC steps into the ballroom. He looks around...yep, it’s pretty much like he expected. He turns to the usher, who is wearing a mask. PIC slowly removes his OCW Title and...BAM! He nails the usher in the face, knocking him out! The crowd gasps~

Smith: What was that?!

Hood: You don’t think…

~PIC bends down and rips the mask off...underneath is the face of, well, just an ordinary guy. PIC sighs and drops the mask, patting the guy on the chest saying, “Sorry, thought you might be somebody else”~

Smith: Oh boy, he’s on high alert.

Hood: Wouldn’t you be? And why the fuck is that usher wearing a mask?

Smith: Maybe he doesn’t like the way he looks on camera.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~PIC’s head turns toward metal clanging. It’s coming from the kitchen. A metal door shakes...he looks on, curious~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~ “I Need A Dollar” by Aloe Blacc filters in through the OCW Ball Room. But, we can still hear the commotion inside the kitchen. A very familiar voice yells, “Get out of my fucking way!” An unknown voice yells back, “You can’t go in there with a giant knife!” Familiar voice returns, “WHY NOT?” Foreign voice explains, “Because, this isn’t MURDERHAUS.” A pause...the familiar voice yells, “Wait a minute...why are you wearing a mask?!” And then, BOOM! The door to the kitchen flies open and another usher flies into the room, knocked out, wearing a mask. The #1 Contender, Thunder Knuckles steps into the Ball Room carrying a metal pot and wooden spoon. He stands over the man and removes the mask~

Smith: And it’s...it’s…

Hood: Just another random dude.

Smith: These guys need to relax. I don’t think TLS is here.

Belvedere: From Lima, Ohio...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 260lbs...he is a two time OCW Tag Team Champion...he is the King of the Bastards...he is...Thunder Knuckles!!!

~TK spits in the unknown guy’s face and slings the mask across the ballroom. He stands upright and finds PIC. PIC heads TK’s way. TK doesn’t hesitate. The two men get a few feet from each other. TK points at the usher PIC laid out, “Did you think he was…” PIC nods ‘yes’. PIC then points at the usher TK laid out and asks, “You?” TK replies, ‘Mhm.’ A moment pauses as the sound of a bell goes off...behind the two men we see Tuff emerge, keeping his distance. TK grips both his weapons. PIC slowly removes his OCW Title~

Smith: Tension in the air. Not only are they nervous about TLS potentially interrupting their match...but I don’t think either man knows how to begin.

Hood: I definitely think TK is overthinking this. You’re a bastard, man. Do your thing!

Smith: It’s the biggest moment in his career, Hood. A man who’s always been seen as a ‘tag guy’ or ‘mid card guy’. Tonight, he’s got a chance to be THE guy.

~Finally, TK says, ‘fuck it’ and he starts swinging with his spoon and pan. PIC blocks the weapons using the OCW Title. The fans in the OCW Arena go wild. The wooden spoon snaps in half across the OCW Title belt plate. TK grips the metal pan with both hands and brings it overhead...he sends it crashing down at PIC. PIC holds the OCW Title as an umbrella, of sorts, absorbing the blows...but BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! TK destroys the metal pan against the OCW Title...but, by doing so, he sends PIC down to his knees. PIC can’t really do anything, if he moves the OCW Title he’s going to take a metal shot to the head. So he kneels in protection mode until TK switches things up and kicks him in the chest! PIC tumbles back, dropping the OCW title, holding his chest in pain. TK then looks at the metal pan...it looks more like a metal paddle at this point...flattened the fuck out. He tosses it over his shoulder and heads for PIC~

Smith: TK chopped PIC down with repeated metal pot shots. And then...when he got him down and in position, he fired a big kick to the chest!

Hood: There ya go, TK. Don’t think, man. Just fight. Fight like a fuckin bastard.

Smith: The biggest mistake people can make when they finally get to this point is change who they are. Do what you did to get here. Nothing more. Nothing less.

~TK stops, looking down at the OCW Title. He pauses...he bends over and picks it up. He stares into the belt plate, seeing his reflection. Holding it...it feels good. It feels natural. It feels like his. Until PIC pops to his feet, enraged over seeing TK handle his title. PIC fires forward with some right fists, knocking TK’s head around. TK drops the belt and stumbles back into a table. PIC delivers punch after punch after punch...until TK lifts a knee into PIC’s midsection, doubling him over. TK grabs PIC and he tosses him onto the table top!! PIC lands hard, knocking all the accessories around...he stays on top of the table, holding his back in pain. TK grabs the table cloth and looks around, with a smile~

Smith: Ah, this trick.

Hood: I’d imagine it’d be kinda hard to pull off with a 200+ grown man on top of the table cloth.

Smith: Yea, probably.

~TK yanks back on the cloth as hard as he can...it doesn’t exactly slide right out...instead, it drags PIC off the table...he lands hard on the very, very thin layer of carpet that covers the hard cement underneath. TK takes the table cloth and gets a good grip on it. He drops down and wraps it around PIC’s neck! TK pulls back, choking the life out of PIC~

Smith: Well, I think TK took the advice. He’s being himself.

Hood: I kinda wish there was a wedding reception going on in here or something. Have TK walk up during the first dance and just beat the shit out of the groom.

Smith: Why TK? Why not PIC?

Hood: LOL like PIC is ever gonna steal anyone’s girl.

~PIC reaches around, looking for something. TK’s got a hulking grip on that cloth...no air is making its way into PIC’s body. He’s got to hurry. He reaches and reaches...he grabs onto something and he flings it back, over his head...SMASH! A plate of find dining shattered over TK’s head!! He let’s go of the cloth and stumbles back, against the table. PIC unwraps the cloth...he twists it tight and charges forward with a literal CLOTHESLINE, sending TK onto the now bare table top. PIC tosses the cloth down and he grabs one of the chairs...a wooden fold up. “Nice,” he seems to say...heavy and painful. He steps up on the table looking down at TK...TK looks up at him. PIC has the chair folded up and he drives the top down at TK...TK puts his hands up and catches it...inches from his throat. He fights and fights to keep PIC from jamming it into his adam’s apple. PIC yells out, trying to break free and deliver the crushing blow~

Smith: If PIC can fight through TK’s hands he might crush his throat.

Hood: You said that so nonchalantly. Ya know, as if he weren’t trying to crush a man’s FUCKING THROAT.

Smith: I’m a professional.

~The chair inches closer to TK’s throat...he might like to choke a bitch but he don’t wanna get choked like one...so he kicks PIC in the shin...PIC’s force weakens enough for TK to push back! The bottom of the chair hits PIC in the face! He stumbles backward and hops off the table, holding his mouth and nose in pain. TK feels around the table for something...he grabs a fork. He gets to his feet and he runs across the table top, jumping off and bringing the fork down toward PIC’s head...but PIC dodges it and takes TK down with a drop toe hold...THUMP! TK’s face smacks right into the thin carpet. He yells out, “FUCK!” rolling around, holding his nose. PIC relocates the chair, snaring it off the table and keeping it folded. TK is laying front first, checking his nose for blood...PIC raises the wooden chair high and BANG! He sends it crashing into TK’s back! TK yells out, “SHIT MOTHER FUCKING ASS!”~

Smith: TK verbally expressing the pain that’s firing through his body at this moment.

Hood: Almost four for four on that one. Chair shot must have hurt like hell.

Smith: Well, it’s a thick wooden chair. Not much give in those.

Hood: Wasn’t it Bifford who said that trees are evil? He might have been on to something.

~PIC delivers another crushing blow with the wooden chair! It cracks and bends against the flesh and bone of the challenger. TK’s nails dig into the thin carpet...this is not a great place to be. PIC raises the chair up a third time...it’s already breaking, pieces dangling by a tiny sliver of wood. He’s about to send it crashing down a third time...but TK scurries forward on his belly, hiding underneath another nearby table. PIC tosses the chair down in frustration and heads toward the table to try and get TK out from underneath it. He crouches down...but TK shoves one of the chairs at him, almost hitting PIC in the face~

Smith: TK taking a pause. PIC can’t get down there...if he does TK will hit him with something.

Hood: So does he just wait it out?

Smith: I have no idea. This is all a first for me.

Hood: Really? I figured you liked balls.

~PIC stands for a moment, trying to figure out how to attack this when the table suddenly flips forward!! TK rises from underneath, shoving the table up and over at PIC as hard as he can!! Plates, silver wear, candles...you name it, they all come crashing down on PIC as he braces for impact. TK slings the table out of the way to find PIC covered by the table cloth...PIC tries to get it off of him...but TK smacks him with a right hand. PIC stumbles back, still blinded by the cloth. TK hits him again and again and again...PIC is reeling against the edge of another table. TK kicks him in the gut...he brings PIC in, hoists him up and he POWERBOMBS him through the table!! The wood collapses underneath the force and weight of PIC! The fans in the OCW Arena go wild!! TK frantically tries to make a cover...this could be it! Tuff cartwheels in and makes the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Not quite!

Hood: Man, poor TK...he could TASTE the title there. He’s got more work to do, obviously.

Smith: Yep, but he’s struck the first big blow.

~Frustrated, TK gets to his feet...he has to stay focused. He can’t let frustration cloud his focus. He stomps on PIC’s midsection, keeping him down. TK then grabs PIC by the leg...he focuses on the ankle. PIC’s eyes widen...he’s scouted TK out, no doubt. He knows where this leads...so he kicks TK off of him. TK stumbles forward, onto the dance floor. He hurries to spin around. PIC pulls himself out of the wreckage and grabs a miraculously unharmed plate. He throws it at TK...but TK catches it! He seems pretty proud of this amazing hand-eye-coordination-quickness...too proud...as he removes his focus for just a second...a second long enough for PIC to fly into view with a forearm!! TK gets the plate up...but the forearm crashes through it, hitting TK in the face!! TK stumbles off the dance floor, falling back into one of the chairs near an already damaged table. PIC drops to one knee, reaching for his back...he looks at TK. The man is stunned. PIC’s gotta fight through the pain...he runs forward and delivers a stiff boot to the side of TK’s face!!! The impact sends TK flying out of the chair, tumbling onto debris from the table. PIC walks around, gingerly...he grabs the table cloth and kicks TK over onto his front...he starts to tie TK’s hands together~

Smith: Oh no...what’s he doing?

Hood: Wow, he’s really going for it. He’s going to tie TK’s hands behind his back...PIC’s getting desperate, man.

Smith: It’s all within the rules of this match.

Hood: I think he knows TK has the advantage in a match like this. He’s known it all along. He probably tried to go toe-to-toe with him in this environment...but now? Fuck it. He’s going to do what he has to do to win.

~TK starts to come to...only to realize his hands are tied behind his back. He tries to pull them free...but can’t. He looks confused, “What the fuck?” He looks up at PIC, “You mother fucker!” PIC kicks TK in the face. TK is stunned...but he shakes it off, furious over the predicament PIC has put him in. PIC kicks him in the face a second time...but this time TK gets to his feet. The fans in the OCW Arena...in that nose bleed bastard section, go wild. PIC looks confused...these kicks are heavy and flush...he should be down. PIC starts to punch TK in the head...TK doesn’t waver. PIC hits him over and over and over...TK yells out, “IS THAT THE BEST YOU GOT YOU PUSSY BITCH?” PIC continues to hit TK over the head with his right hands until he stops...feeling the pain in his knuckles...which, upon inspection, are cracked and bleeding. He then looks at TK...the adrenaline wearing off...TK stumbles...PIC takes a few steps back before charging forward and SLAMMING a running knee into TK’s face!!! TK falls down, hard...flipping over his head and landing front first on the ground...his hands still tied behind his back. PIC staggers into an untouched table...he leans over...blood stains the cloth from his hand. He inspects the damage~

Smith: He should pin TK!

Hood: Maybe...or maybe he knows that bastard ain’t ready to be pinned.

Smith: I gotta say, I’m amazed TK took as much punishment as he did.

Hood: You have no idea how much this means to him. If he doesn’t win...he’s gonna damn near die trying.

~PIC snares a napkin from one of the several place sittings at the table. He wraps it around his bruised, cracked, and bloodied right hand. As he does, he hears a piano. The piano from the corner of the room. It begins to play classical music, filling the room with a very haunting air. He looks over to find a man seated at the piano, in a mask, gracing the keys of the piano with precise feeling. Immediately PIC knows who this is. “TLS,” he says loud enough for us to hear. He leaves TK behind, heading toward the piano in the corner of the room~

Smith: Bold move by the champion, leaving the challenger behind to confront a piano player.

Hood: Yea, he thinks it’s TLS.

Smith: TLS is in both their heads, if that weren’t already obvious.

Hood: I just had no idea TLS could play the piano so flawlessly. He’s like mozart and beethoven all rolled into one majestic son of a bitch!

~PIC reaches the piano player and yanks him from his seat. He shoves him into a wall...the piano player throws his hands up, terrified. PIC then flies forward with a forearm to the face...knocking the piano player down. PIC then removes the mask from the man...he sighs with disappointment and maybe a hint of remorse...once again, it’s NOT TLS. He drops the mask and turns around...but as he does, the battered mullet of TK dives into view, smacking PIC with a headbutt!! PIC stumbles into the wall...TK charges forward, ramming his head into PIC’s abdomen! PIC doubles over. TK then drives his forehead into the back of PIC’s head, sending the champ down to all fours...TK finally jumps up and comes down on PIC with a senton!!! PIC is flattened out...TK rolls around, his hands still tied behind his back. The bastards in the OCW Arena are going wild while the PROUD AND STRONG OCW diehards start to get nervous~

Smith: TK just took PIC down with NO HANDS

Hood: I mean, I’d advise against using your head like that but it’s TK. He functions on piss and vinegar...and sometimes, but not very often brains.

Smith: And, again, we see that another innocent employee has been decimated because they thought he might be TLS.

Hood: I think these guys should know by now…if you’re gonna enter that ball room...DON’T WEAR A MASK.

~TK stumbles back toward the dining area...he finds a broken plate and he sits down, rubbing the cloth against it, trying to cut through his restraints. PIC slowly pushes up...he gets to his feet and staggers. He feels around his head for blood, but nothing...just pain, a throbbing headache from the skull on skull contact. He then locates TK through his blurred vision. He sees the bastard working to be freed...time is of the essence...he heads that way, recklessly. TK sees PIC coming for him...he speeds up the process, trying to get freed. PIC reaches TK and grasps at the challenger...but TK is freed! He takes him over with a small package!!! TUFF tumbles in for the count~

1!

2!

3...NO!

Smith: Wow! TK nearly stole the OCW Title with a small package!

Hood: Okay, that might piss TLS off. TK stealing his moves.

Smith: Would’ve been one of the more shocking pins in OCW Title history...came literally out of nowhere!

~TK rolls off PIC. PIC hurries to his feet...he hops onto a nearby table. TK looks up...PIC leaps off with a moonsault...but TK catches him!! TK charges away from the tables to the dance floor...he’s got PIC draped over his shoulder! He hits the dance floor and slings PIC over and down with a Running Powerslam!!! THUD!! PIC’s back is SMASHED into the unforgiving wood! He yells out in pain...TK shuts him up by pummeling him in the face with right hands, furious over the beating he just took. “How does it feel, mother fucker!” he yells, smashing his fist into PIC’s face~

Smith: And TK is in total control! PIC’s diversion toward who he thought might be TLS gave up the clear advantage he had in this one.

Hood: Yea, it’s an all out assault right now and, well, nobody can assault someone quite like TK.

Smith: PIC’s got to find something to turn this tide...if not, well, the most unlikely challenger to his run atop the company could be the one who takes him down.

~TK sees PIC’s wrapped fist. He stops punching him in the head and grabs his hand...he squeezes hard. PIC yells out in pain as the white cloth slowly turns red. TK slams the hand into the wood! PIC reacts violently, trying to protect his wounded appendage...but TK won’t let him. He steps on PIC’s wrist, pinning his hand down. PIC tries to beg him off...but TK won’t hear it...he jumps up and SMASH! He slams both feet into PIC’s hand! PIC cries out in pain, rolling around, holding his hand. TK then looks over at the piano...he grabs PIC by his soccer mom hairstyle and drags him across the wood floor towards the piano~

Smith: Oh no...he’s going to slam PIC’s hand inside that piano!

Hood: I hope PIC doesn’t have any important writing competitions coming up because if he does, well, he’s fucked.

Smith: It’s pretty clear at this point that PIC cannot brawl with TK. Not only does TK seem more adept at it...but PIC’s down to one hand.

~TK reaches the piano and he reaches for PIC’s arm...PIC tries to keep it away so TK knees PIC in the back of the head, dazing the champion. He then grabs the arm and brings, placing it along the edge of the body of the piano...he has the lid up...he then sends the hard, wooden lid crashing down across PIC’s hand!! PIC yells out, holding his hand...he leans against the floor, coughing...the pain infecting his body, forcing violent reactions. TK then grabs PIC by the leg and he hops on top of the piano. TK stands tall and applies an ankle lock!!! He’s almost got PIC hanging upside down as he twists and torques the ankle, trying to snap the joint! PIC yells out in pain...Tuff dives in, asking PIC if he wants to give it up~

Smith: PIC is in serious trouble here, Hood! Not only could TK snap that ankle...but he’s softening PIC’s leg up for Thunder Strike!

Hood: PIC’s hand is in so much pain he forgot to protect the leg!

Smith: Not sure if that was planned by TK or if he was just attacking a spot of vulnerability...either way, it’s paying off!

~PIC fights through the pain...the heart of a champion. TK continues to twist, doing everything he can to break that fuckin ankle. Tuff continues to ask...PIC refuses to quit. Tuff looks down at PIC’s hand...it’s swollen, blue and purple, and leaking blood. The fans in the arena cringe when they get an up close view of it. The lights in the Ball Room flicker for a moment...TK catches a glimpse of a shadow against a wall...the shadow of a man. He pauses...could it be? He lets some of the pressure off...PIC yanks his leg away and falls to the ground...he crawls away. TK turns, staring at the wall...the lights return to normal...nothing is there. “FUCK!” he yells, realizing he let PIC go. He hops off the piano and stalks PIC. The OCW Champion tries to crawl away...but he isn’t moving very fast. TK catches him, stomping on PIC’s back~

Smith: A brief glimmer of hope for PIC only to have TK snuff it out.

Hood: You see? This is why they are called bastards. No remorse. Sheer brutality.

Smith: Oh, trust me, I know!

~TK pulls PIC off the dance floor. PIC tries to throw a punch with his left hand but there isn’t enough behind it. TK kicks PIC in the gut. PIC doubles over. TK then hoists him up for a powerbomb! He turns and charges toward the piano!! TK nears the piano...but PIC turns the powerbomb into a hurricanrana!! He tosses TK on top of the piano!! TK’s body slams on the slick, black wood. He lays on his back, grimacing atop the piano. PIC struggles to his feet...he steps on the piano stool before hopping on top. TK is already fighting to his feet...PIC chops TK across the chest with his left hand...TK spins around, staring at the wall. PIC runs toward the wall hopping off the piano, kicking his legs into and off the wall...he flips over with a moonsault but lands back on top of the piano before dropping TK with a reverse DDT!!!! The impact sends both men crashing THROUGH the piano to the floor!! The fans in the OCW Arena go wild! “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”~

Smith: Oh my gosh! Through the piano!

Hood: Well, it’s official. OCW hates classical music.

Smith: I just hope this ball room wasn’t expected to host any events in the near future.

Hood: As long as the wet bar is fine, we’re good.

Smith: Totally forgot that was apart of this setting.

Hood: Haha, yea, I figured.

~Tuff digs around the rubble to find the survivors. PIC emerges first, foregoing a pin. The second time he’s done this. He crawls out and finds a nearby chair, taking a seat...his back is aching, his hand is, obviously, killing him. TK remains downed inside the destroyed piano. PIC can’t remain seated, everything will stiffen, lock up...it’s what happens when you get old, youngins! He’s on his feet, moving, limping on his twisted ankle...he heads for the wet bar. He snares a bottle of whiskey...Jack Daniels. He twists it open with his left hand and takes a pull...we don’t think he’s much of a drinker, but the alcohol does help numb the pain. He keeps his eye on TK...finally, the challenger begins to stir. PIC takes another sip before twisting the cap back on the battle and bringing it with him as he marches back toward the challenger~

Smith: Some liquid healing before returning to the task at hand.

Hood: Bastard bringing PIC down to his level. Violence. Drinking. What’s next? A hooker?

Smith: I hope not!

Hood: Same with TLS because we all know he’s PIC’s whore.

~TK fights to his feet, amazing considering the fall he just took. He’s holding his wrecked neck. PIC approaches and swings the whiskey bottle at TK’s head with his left hand. THONK! It connects...but it doesn’t break...which, in some ways is worse. TK stumbles to the side like a drunk. He drops to one knee. PIC looks at the bottle...he re-grips it with his right hand and rears back...but TK reaches up, grabbing the bottle on it’s way down and squeezing PIC’s injured hand. PIC relents...TK steals the bottle and he SMASHES it against PIC’s head!! Whiskey and glass fly everywhere. PIC stumbles backward, falling into a seat. TK charges forward and delivers double knees into PIC! PIC falls backwards, out of his chair as TK’s knees with the weight of his entire body compresses into PIC’s chest!! The bastards in the OCW Arena go wild! TK makes a cover!! Tuff flips into view~

1!

2!

3...NO!

Smith: PIC with the shoulder up! Barely!

Hood: TK’s in the home stretch! He’s close to pulling off the upset!

Smith: The champ is in dire...DIRE need of something. He’s teetering on the brink of defeat.

~TK crawls back out to the dance floor where the bottle was smashed. He scoops up some whiskey, drinking it down...ahh, tastes good. He pulls a few bits of glass from his mouth...not really willing or able to chew it up like his buddy, The Nickleman. He’s got to put those lips on Adi after the match, after all. Can’t kiss a girl like Adi Gold with a ripped up, blood covered mouth. TK returns to his feet and he grabs PIC by his injured right ankle...PIC starts to squirm. He knows what’s coming...TK hooks the leg...he’s standing on the wooden dance floor. He’s about to drop THUNDER STRIKE...but PIC kicks at him...PIC kicks and twists, kicks and twists with his free foot. TK can’t hold onto a good enough grip...so he grabs PIC’s left leg and he falls back with a catapult! PIC flies forward, tumbling across the floor, safely. He gets back to his feet and heads toward TK. TK hurries to his feet. PIC limps over...TK throws a wild haymaker...but PIC ducks! TK spins around and PIC lock sin a Full Nelson! It’s almost as painful for PIC as it is TK, given his right hand...but he fights through the pain and delivers several knees into TK’s kidneys!! TK yells and grimaces...pain crippling his muscles. After several knees PIC releases TK...he spins him around...he picks him up and drops him with a Michinoku Driver head first onto the wood floor!!! The OCW die hards go wild!!! PIC throws his body on top of TK...Tuff flips into view and counts~

1!

2!

3!!!

NO!

Smith: TK’s shoulder is up! Barely!

Hood: Damn, PIC straight dropped him on his head in that whiskey and glass!

Smith: The champ is raising it up a notch, Hood. He has to. Up to this point TK has, well, quite frankly kicked his butt.

Hood: I think just about every part of PIC’s body is injured. Hand. Ankle. Back.

Smith: Yep, yep, yep.

Hood: Vagina.

Smith: Ye...HEY!

~PIC rolls away, only all fours...he gasps for air. He gets to his knees and holds his right hand. TK, meanwhile sits up...he reaches around the curly top of his mullet and finds a piece of glass...he slowly yanks it from his head. It’s bloody. Some blood starts to run from his hair, down his face. Doesn’t bother him much...if anything, it seems to serve as wake up call. He gets back to his feet...he walks over to the champ and grabs a handful of hair, pulling him up….but PIC breaks free and spins around...he takes his right hand, pain be damned and he starts to chop TK across the chest with it. Chop! Chop! Chop! Chop! Blood splattering with each impact. TK’s on his heels. PIC dives in and grabs TK, hoisting him up on his shoulders~

Smith: The Showstoppa!

Hood: But does he have the strength to pull it off?

Smith: He’s got him up!

~PIC’s got TK on his shoulders! Fireman’s carry! He’s one movement away from hitting The Showstoppa! TK grabs at PIC’s right hand and he squeezes!! PIC loses his grip...TK drops down behind PIC. He hooks him from behind, picks him up and he PLANTS PIC into the wood floor with a Full Nelson Slam!!! PIC arches his back in pain...he gasps for air. TK doesn’t fuck around...he reaches for PIC’s right ankle~

Smith: Thunder Strike!

Hood: These guys are both trying to land the death blow!

Smith: If TK gets a good grip...all he’s gotta do is fall back, hit that heel DDT and it’s over!

~PIC gets his breath back...he can’t survive a Thunder Strike...not in his current condition. He puts his core to work, sitting up, pulling his body off the ground and wrapping his arm around TK’s head!! TK stumbles...PIC clamps down, cutting TK’s air off. TK loses PIC’s leg...PIC wraps his legs around TK’s body...he’s trying to bring him down into a Guillotine. TK slugs PIC in the ribs a few times...he then tosses PIC off of him. PIC lands on his feet and spins around with a left back fist that stuns TK! PIC grabs TK by the head and he hits a stunner!! TK staggers off the dance floor into some tables, dragging table cloths and plates to the ground with him. PIC drops to one knee...he’s gasping for air...his hand a bloody, swollen mess...his back aching...his ankle barely able to do its job~

Smith: Can the champ power through?

Hood: TK has whipped his ass. Now, he’s just got to put him down.

Smith: With what? I’m not sure he can execute The Showstoppa.

Hood: Well, he’s got other moves!

~PIC shows the heart of a champion, returning to his feet. He pulls TK up and hoists him onto his shoulders into a Fireman’s Carry! He’s going to THE SHOWSTOPPA! But, again, TK rips at PIC’s right hand!! The champ drops the challenger! TK lands on his feet only to get hit with a stiff back elbow that sends him to the ground. PIC looks at the scene...devastation, demolition...carnage. He knows he can’t hit the Showstoppa. He needs to call an audible. He grabs one of the nearby table and painfully works it up onto another table, creating a stack of two tables. He pauses. TK is starting to sit up...so PIC hurries over and he kicks TK in his bloodied face, sending the challenger back down. PIC then pulls TK up and he tosses him on top of a nearby table. TK lays there, motionless. PIC then stacks a few chairs, climbs up on them and drags his body on top of the two stacked tables~

Smith: Oh no

Hood: Oh shit!

Smith: He’s going for his signature 450 Splash! The End Result!

Hood: TK’s gotta move! He’s gotta get off that table!

~PIC stands atop the two tables, staring down at TK. It’s a long way down. It’s as high risk as it gets. But he’s got no choice. PIC leaps off, grimacing through the pain in his right ankle...he performs his 450 splash! THE END RESULT!! BUT TK MOVES!!!! PIC’s body CRASHES through the table, obliterating it!!! The fans chant “HOLY SHIT!!!” Tuff rushes in, trying to figure out what’s going on. He pulls cloth and silvewear out of the way to find TK resting on top of PIC! The bastards go wild! The OCW fans gasp! Tuff makes the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

NO!!!!

Smith: I can’t believe it! That looked like a three count!

Hood: PIC’s shoulder just sorta spasmed off the floor. Fuckin unreal!

Smith: The champion went for it all and he misfired! It damn near cost him the OCW Title...heck, it still might have!

Hood: Yea, just cause he kicked out doesn’t mean he’s safe. It just means he’s got to endure this torture a little bit longer.

~TK sits up...he looks at Tuff and holds up three fingers. Tuff shakes his head, showing only two. TK curses and slings some shit around. He grabs PIC’s right hand and slams it into the ground as hard as he can several times. PIC just rolls over, protecting a hand that, well, may not ever work the same again. He drags himself out of the wreckage and sees the OCW Title. TK picks it up and looks into it...he’s almost there. He drops the title and then grabs PIC by the right leg...PIC tries to get free, flipping over to his front...but TK drags him out of the wreckage, back to the wooden floor. Once there he applies his patented ankle lock! He twists and turns...PIC yells out, in pain, keeping his arms close to his chest~

Smith: PIC’s got his arms tucked into his chest...probably protecting his right hand.

Hood: Yea, that or trying to keep his body from doing the smart thing and tapping out.

~PIC goes quiet. TK gives the ankle one final twist before he prepares to hit Thunder Strike! He flips PIC over, holding onto the right foot. Once PIC rolls over...we see he’s holding the OCW Title! He throws it at TK! TK catches it...PIC throws his left foot up and he kicks the title belt into TK’s face!!! TK is stunned! PIC reaches up, he pulls TK over and he hooks him in a SMALL PACKAGE! Tuff dives in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND STILL OCW CHAMPION...PIC!!!!!

Smith: PIC did it! He survived Thunder Knuckles!

Hood: With a small fucking package!

Smith: He used the OCW title as bait to distract TK...kicked it into his face and then used, ironically, TLS’ finisher to steal the victory!

Hood: Fuck. TK was so close, man. SO CLOSE

Smith: He dominated a large part of this match.

~TK sits up, shocked. PIC’s ravaged body snares the OCW title before he rolls away from TK. TK slaps at the wooden floor, his hand slapping into some of the whiskey from earlier. He folds his arms over his knees and stares down at the floor, shaking his head in frustration~

Smith: I may not be a fan of the bastards. But I can feel his disappointment. He put it all out there for this one and he was so, so close to realizing a dream.

Hood: Ya know...you gotta get there once or twice and fail before you can triumph. The nature of the beast.

Smith: Indeed.

~The momentary disappointment gives way toward anger. TK looks over and he sees PIC seated at a table, head down, title clutched tightly. TK gets to his feet. The fans inside the arena start to boo. He walks over to PIC. PIC looks up and he begs TK off...but TK shoves him out of his chair. PIC lands hard. He’s got nothing left. He’s finished~

Smith: The match might be over but TK isn’t finished.

Hood: There ya go. Put an end to him! If you couldn’t win the battle...take the war!

Smith: One way or another the bastard is going to try and end the run of the OCW Champion!

~TK lifts his foot, about to bash PIC’s head in when he’s suddenly turned around and blasted with a right hand! The fans cheer when they see TLS!! FOR REAL THIS TIME! TLS blasts TK with another right hand before kicking him in the gut...he hoists TK up and drops him with The Soul Buster!!! TK is out!!! The fans chant “TLS! TLS! TLS!” TLS rises and he stands over PIC. The fans go “OH SHIT!!!!” PIC looks up, almost resigned to his fate~

Smith: Is he going to cash in?!

Hood: New champion!

Smith: PIC has absolutely NOTHING left.

~TLS removes the Oh Shit contract from his coat pocket. The fans chant “YES! YES! YES!” These OH SHIT moments always draw a massive reaction. Tuff watches on...all he needs is the order from TLS and he will start the match. TLS bends down and he comes eye to eye with PIC...he taps PIC on the head with the contract before turning and calmly exiting the Ball Room. Tuff looks confused. TK is out. PIC just lays back...too exhausted to really emote anything~

Smith: TLS did NOT cash in!

Hood: The mind games continue!

Smith: I wonder why he didn’t...this seemed like a layup.

Hood: Hey, sometimes layups get missed. I think he knows EXACTLY when and where he’s going to cash in. For now...he just wants PIC to remember...the cash in is looming.

Smith: Larger than ever. Well folks, that’s gonna do it for tonight!

Hood: Whew...time to get some drinks!

Smith: 2023 is officially off and running. We hope you enjoyed tonight’s amazing event...and now, prepare yourselves...THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS AWAITS.

Hood: Fuck yes!

Smith: We’ll see you all next Monday from the Proud and Strong cruise ship as we head to Antarctica. Until then...stay safe everyone!

~We get one final shot of TLS exiting with TK laid out and PIC, far in the background, laid out holding the OCW Title~

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