LIVE! October 18th 2021
From The OCW Arena
~A promo for last night’s Season 3 debut episode of SUCCESSION airs. It looks pretty good because the show is fucking awesome. We make a note to watch it, saying, “Now THERE’S some good television. About fuckin time.” The OCW logo suddenly flashes. Our pants tighten. It’s that time, folks. The Massacre logo slashes across the screen as we’re whisked away to the OCW Arena in Key West! Blood thirsty fans pack the famed arena which houses the best pro wrestling product in the Milky Way Galaxy...narrowly beating out the critically acclaimed weekly show put on by that badass Plutonian promotion. Signs abound...a few read “PICK ME, JAMES!” We’re not sure if they’re talking about the #1 contendership or, well, something else. Another sign reads, “I promise not to beat up Theo.” Thank you, fan. Our camera quits panning and lands on the duo of Smith and Hood. Smith looks as professional as ever, while Hood just looks like... Hood.~
Smith: Hello, everyone, and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! We’re fresh off the heels of Masters of Macabre, where FIVE of the six championships in the company changed hands! It was a record night!
Hood: Thank God for Jason Cashe & Cyrus Riddle. The tag-team belts have come back home!
Smith: Along with Cashe & Riddle’s controversial win over Them No Good Bastards…
Hood: Just because Maurako was the referee and the wrong person was pinned doesn’t make it ‘controversial’...
Smith: … we also had Xavier Lux gain the vacated Paradigm Title, Dylan Thomas become the new OCW Craze Champion, Supreme Machine dethrone Thaddeus Duke to win the OCW Savage Title, and…
Hood: Do we have to say it? Can’t we just…
Smith: Peter “The Janitor” Vaughn has become the OCW Champion!
Hood: *sigh* You said it…
Smith: Unfortunately, the night did not have a completely happy ending, as the XWF found a way past Marcus Welsh’s security and ambushed our wrestlers, taking out several of them before departing.
Hood: I blame Zybala. His shotgun badly let us down.
Smith: Welsh, though frustrated, has sworn payback in the near future. But tonight, we have to concern ourselves with protecting Massacre.
Hood: You don’t think they’d try again, do you? It’s not like they could fly a helicopter into the arena…
Smith: I don’t know, but…
~The sudden music makes Hood jump, as if the XWF was attacking that very minute. But it’s quickly clear what’s happening. The crowd all turns together to the entrance way, already letting loose with their hatred as the new OCW Champion, Peter Vaughn, walks out of the back. He’s dressed in a fancy new Italian suit, carrying the OCW Title on one shoulder as he stops at the edge of the stage. He slowly raises the championship over his head, with blasts of pyro going off around him, likely arranged by his mentor, Jonathan “Pryde” Barrows.~
Smith: Our new champion has arrived! The man described as a “Cinderella Story”, Vaughn was a jobber in other organizations at the beginning of 2021. He has transformed himself utterly, and whether you like his ways or not, he has achieved his dream of becoming the World Champion!
Hood: I’m just glad we’re getting him out here early, so the ratings will have a chance to rebound… a fucking janitor, my god…
Smith: Hood, you probably shouldn’t…
Hood: This is so fucking ridiculous. I hope Raven fixes this quickly, we don’t have to wait until Death March to have a title match, right?
Smith: Hood…
Hood: So what’s Vaughn got to say?
Smith: …
~Smith is silent, shaking his head. Hood looks at him with confusion, before his eyes widen with comprehension. He slowly turns to face the man now standing behind him. Vaughn didn’t stay on the stage, nor did he head into the ring. Instead, he’s come over to the announce table, standing behind Hood. The announcer shakes it off like a true pro, nodding to Vaughn.~
Hood: Champ! Welcome! Great to have you here!
~Hood quickly reaches over the table, grabbing a spare mic. He hands it out to Vaughn like a butler serving hor d'oeuvres. Vaughn looks down at it for a moment, still smiling, before finally taking it out of Hood’s hands.~
Hood: That was a hell of a match you had last Sunday! Smith and I were just talking about how incredible it was! You and Outcast, you really put on a great show for the fans!
Peter Vaughn: Did we, Hood? Were the fans happy with what they saw? They sure didn’t seem happy when I came out here.
~The boos have continued from the crowd, with some less-than-glorious chants being directed Vaughn’s way. “Go Plunge A Shitty Toilet” is the most clear. A very unique cadence, too. Hood shakes his head quickly, too quickly, really.~
Hood: Oh, you know the fans, they’re fickle as fuck. You think they were monster fans of a guy like Outcast? They’ll come around. So how’s it feel, hauling that big chunk of gold with you back from jolly ol’ England?
~Vaughn hefts up the OCW Championship in front of him, staring at it once again with a large smile.~
Peter Vaughn: It still feels surreal. I’m expecting to wake up from a dreamscape at any moment. But it’s a reality. I told the world that come tonight, I’d be a World Champion, and look! Here I am!
~The belt goes up higher, with more boos from the fans who aren’t happy with the new titleholder.~
Peter Vaughn: All I’ve done since OCW reopened is prove myself. I said I’d become a champion at Quarantined. I left with the OCW Craze Title. I said I’d rise above my former mentor, Mike Zybala, and he fell before me. I said I’d make sure Dylan Thomas was never the same. Goal achieved.
~Vaughn is still grinning, relishing the walk down memory lane, even if the fans aren’t enjoying it.~
Peter Vaughn: And then I told all of you fans that I would make Outcast a one-and-done champion as I reached my destiny. Despite Outcast’s cowardice causing him to attack me from behind, despite the British fans themselves getting involved to try and screw me over, despite the referee’s incompetence, I couldn’t be stopped. I beat Outcast right there in that ring 1… 2… 3. And I have to ask: have I made you all believers yet?
~From the crowd reaction, it doesn’t sound like the answer’s a positive one. The cursing and shouting towards Vaughn from this OCW crowd shows that they still see him as someone they can’t respect. Hood turns, trying to shush them, before turning back to Vaughn, who locks eyes with him.~
Peter Vaughn: See? Even after all I’ve achieved, these fans still don’t want to fall in line, Hood. I had a long time to think about that when flying back from London. They showed us a replay of the show, which meant I got to sit there and listen to everything… EVERYTHING… you and Smith had to say.
~Vaughn’s smile has now disappeared, as has Hood’s.~
Hood: Hey, Peter, uhhh, I mean, I think there were some translation issues, y’know? We were in a foreign country and all, and…
~Vaughn grabs Hood by the front of his shirt, silencing him.~
Peter Vaughn: “Just can’t flush that mother fucker”... “the luck of a shitty janitor”... “this is a FUCKIN JOKE”... I heard it all, Hood. And that was a LONG flight from London, so I got to hear it multiple times…
Hood: I… I.. I…
Peter Vaughn: You know, many see you as the Voice of OCW, Hood. Sorry, Smith, but let’s face it, people listen to good ol’ Hood here. And when you’re degrading my name, when you’re saying that you fucking hate that a “janitor” is the champion, they’re listening to you. They’re following you. Your word MEANS something.
~After what must feel like an eternity to Hood, Vaughn lets go of the announcer’s shirt. Hood leans back on the announce table, taking in a few deep breaths. Smith has stayed to the side, not wanting to get involved, but seemingly trying to signal for some help at their location. Vaughn waits as Hood gets control again.~
Hood: You’re right, Peter. Of course, you’re right. I… I screwed up, and I understand. But don’t worry, you’ve straightened me out. Things are going to be done right from now on, I swear!
~Vaughn nods, seemingly taking Hood at his word. Hood gets up off the table, patting Vaughn on the shoulder and giving him a relieved grin.~
Peter Vaughn: I know they will, Hood. It’s all about teaching people to respect the wrestler, respect the gold… and making sure it’s a lesson that every single FUCKING PERSON WATCHING LEARNS!!!
~Hood flinches from the sudden increase in volume, but he doesn’t move away fast enough, as Vaughn grabs Hood by the head and slams it straight into the top of the announce table!! He does it again and again, brutally smashing the announcer down!!~
Smith: SECURITY!! Please, Peter, STOP!!!
~Vaughn angrily shoves Smith aside, knocking him over, and then hangs onto Hood’s head, swiping it back and forth on the table with his Insult To Injury maneuver! Hood is slapping his hands on the table, more out of desperation than with any single plan, as Vaughn continues the abuse. He steps around the table and hauls a bloodied Hood up, yelling at him for a few moments about respect, before picking the man up and bodyslamming him onto the table!! Somehow, it holds, leaving Hood on top, with Vaughn grabbing a cord off the ground and wrapping it around Hood’s neck!!!~
Hood: HEELLPP… URRGGHH… URRGGLLE… *GASP*..
Smith: For God’s Sake, SOMEONE… ANYONE!!!
~The crowd seems fairly split, with some cheering on the violence, while others are hating everything that Vaughn is doing. A third group just looks stunned at how Massacre is beginning. Finally, security begins running down the aisle, along with Jonathan Barrows, Marcus Welsh and Cap Slock! The security members work to pull Vaughn off of the beaten Hood, pulling him away. He turns, ready to start fighting all of them, but Barrows & Welsh are working together in what they’re saying, trying to get Vaughn to calm down. After a few more tense moments, Vaughn reaches down and picks up the OCW Championship off the ground. His shirt underneath his suit seems to have picked up several new blood stains. The champ looks over at the downed Hood, shaking his head in disgust, before turning and storming away. Barrows goes with him, still talking as quickly as possible with the champ, while Welsh & Slock stay behind to deal with the carnage. Smith looks a little bit shell-shocked. Welsh seems to be asking if Hood can still do his damn job as we cut away.~
Smith: Alright fans, right now we have the OCW debut of one of the most popular wrestlers among both the fans and the locker room, I’m talking about one half of the former Sports Entertainment Xpress, none other than Thundering Terry Marshall.
~We see Jones next to Smith~
Smith: And with Hood being...incapacitated thanks to the HEINOUS Peter Vaughn...it looks like we’re going to have an assembly of fill ins...starting with, Jones! Hello, Jones.
Jones: Hello, Smith.
Smith: Your thoughts on Terry Marshall making his debut?
Jones: I was so saddened to hear that Space Lord is no longer with us, and it was a big blow to some of the boys.
Smith: Even though Space Lord may no longer be with us, Sexamania will live in infinity.
Jones: *sniffling* Well, Zeus is already in the ring so let’s get Terry Marshall out here.
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen allow me to introduce the next contestant in this match, from Huntington, West Virginia, weighting in at three hundred and eleven pounds, and standing six foot, five inches, this is THUNDERING TERRY MARSHALLLLLLL!!!
~ The crowd lets out a huge pop as “Thunderstruck” by AC/DC begins to play over the PA. “Thundering” Terry Marshall steps out onto the entrance way and looks quite emotional at the response he is getting. Marshall stands with his hands on his hips soaking in the cheers from the crowd. Marshall points at the crowd, moving his fingers around all sides od the arena and mouthing the words, “thank you”~
~Marshall points at this “Space Lord t-shirt” and says, “this is for your brother” before pointing up to the sky. Marshall begins his walk to the ring, slapping hands and kissing babies as he makes his way down the aisle. Marshall climbs to the top and the ring steps and stops, Marshall pulls off his “S..E.X” bandanna from his head and throws in into the crowd~
~Marshall steps between the ropes and grabs his shirt ready to rip it off as normal, but stops. Marshall looks down at Space Lord’s panted face on his shirt and shakes his head. Marshall pulls his shirt off and throws it into the crowd and begins flexing.~
Smith: Terry Marshall, obviously still paying respect to his fallen friend, even refusing to rip the shirt with Space Lord’s face on it.
Jones: This is the most emotional moment in all of OCW.
Smith: Uh, are your sure about that.
Jones: Not really, I’m not that sensitive.
Smith: Well, the bell is sounding and we are under way.
~ The bell sounds and Zeus charges right at Marshall. Marshall sees him coming and catches Zeus, scooping him up for a body slam. Marshall holds Zeus up and walks him around all sides of the ring allowing every fan in attendance to see him. Marshall then slams Zeus down hard with a big body slam~
~Marshall takes a step back and waits as Zeus slowly gets up, but as soon as Zeus is up Marshall takes him down with Thunderstruck (spinning Polish hammer). Zeus flies across the ring and crashes to the mat and Marshall quickly makes the cover.~
ONE…
TWO…
THREE!!!
Jones: THAT WAS THE FASTEST VICTORY IN OCE HISTORY!
Smith: Are you sure about that one?
Jones: No, I’m not a statistician or a records keeper.
Belvedere: HERE IS YOUR WINNER… THUNDERING TERRY MARSHALL!!!
~The crowd pops huge again as Marshall gets his hand raised and then begins to pose, because Marshall must pose. Seriously, he must, it is in his contract. ~
~The fans erupt with a massive ovation as the lights dim out to darkness amidst green and white strobe lights that flicker from all over the building. Thick white smoke bellows out onto the staging. A white strobe light hits the top of the ramp, and the ovation grows as walking through the smoke under the spotlight is none other than the OCW official XWF consultant, “Chronic” Chris Page~
SMITH: There’s a lot on that man’s mind on the heels of Masters of the Macabre regarding Theo Pryce; fifty percent owner of the XWF, tonight they sign a contract for what will be perhaps an altercation the likes nobody is going to be prepared for.
JONES: Page’s first OCW event didn’t go as planned for sure. Not only did the XWF land a successful invasion but Centurion left CCP laying in the streets of Whitechapel.
~Chris raises his head looking out amongst the sea of OCW fans. Two weeks has allowed some of the lacerations on his face to heal and most of the bruising to disappear after being thrown face first through the glass of his limo at the hands of Centurion~
~There’s a deep breath from Chris before he starts to make the walk to the ring with the spotlight firmly on each step he takes. His look is that of focus and determination for tonight is the night that he’s been waiting for. In just a matter of moments when pen hits paper the game truly begins.~
SMITH: Chris has asked that all OCW Talent allow Theo Pryce to walk into and leave the building on his own accord.
JONES: Which let’s face it that’s the only way that little punk would consider walking back into this environment.
~Chris reaches the ringside area where he climbs up on the apron before stepping through the ropes and into the OCW ring that has a black carpet across the canvas with a table that features a white skirt. Two chairs on each side of the table with a contract sitting in the center as well as a black pen, and finally an OCW microphone.~
~Chris reaches for the microphone picking it up off the table. The music starts to fade away leaving the crowd to sing an extra chorus as it fades out.~
“I become
I become
I becoming…
I become
I become
I becominnnnnnnnnnnngggggg…
Judas in! Judas in your mind!”
~We get a solid round of applause from the OCW faithful as the legend, as one of the GOATS of Professional Wrestling graces center ring as he raises the microphone up to his lips while looking directly into the hard camera as he starts to speak~
CHRIS PAGE: While I appreciate the respect from all of you here at the OCW arena in BEAUTIFUL Key West, Florida…
~The crowd erupts giving into the cheap pop as Chris Page throws a thumbs up towards the camera before lowering his hand back down as he waits for the crowd to calm their tits before he continues.~
CHRIS PAGE: Let us get right down to business for I have not shown up tonight for any other reason than to make the public execution of Theo Pryce…
~Instantly the OCW audience erupts with massive boos as Theo’s name is mentioned which takes the attention of Chris Page for a moment before he states~
CHRIS PAGE: This mother fucker has been avoiding me like the plauge, he’s been dodging me since 2020 but tonight he dodges no more for his nuts finally dropped out of his cunt and this Hermie is going to put pen to paper while running away from this ass whipping any longer. Tonight I’ve asked the OCW talent to part those red seas and allow Theo Pryce to enter these sacred grounds so that we may sign this contract for a Non Sanctioned Match at an undisclosed location on November 27th.
~There’s a pause from Chris before he continues.~
CHRIS PAGE: And as difficult as that is for them is just as difficult I know it will be for all of you because the same thing I’ve asked of them I am asking of each and everyone of you here at the OCW Arena.
~The crowd starts to boo insanely as Chris talks over them to get his logic across~
CHRIS PAGE: Hold up, hold up I want you to all understand why I am asking you to do such a daunting task; but the reason I am asking is because once he signs this contract the official countdown to this pricks demise will begin, and the last thing I want, or any of you should want is to give him an excuse to not show up and face exactly what he’s got coming to him.
~Chris lowers the microphone as he looks around the OCW arena while raising it back to his lips~
CHRIS PAGE: Theo, I know you’re here within the sound of my voice. Come out, come out wherever you are…
~The OCW Jumbotron fires up just as the same helicopter Theo Pryce was flying a few weeks ago lands in the arena’s parking lot. The driver’s side door opens and out steps the aforementioned Theo Pryce~
~Pryce adjusts his suit and then spends the next few minutes walking through the parking lot, ignoring the various OCW fans who are screaming obscenities at him. When he gets to the arena a security guard opens the door for him and then along with a few other security guards escorts him through the main floor of the arena. It takes another minute or so before Theo reaches the gorilla position. Without music to accompany him Theo steps through the curtains on to the OCW stage where he is met with a thunderous chorus of boos from the OCW crowd~
~Theo climbs into the ring and takes up a position across the table from Page. The only thing between them is a sheet of paper with one signature on it~
Theo Pryce: Here I am Chris. Let’s get this over with so I can go back to ruining the company you are no longer allowed to set foot in.
~Page reaches down onto the table, grabs the pen and holds it out for his soon to be opponent. Without missing a beat Theo slaps the pen out of Chris’s hand, sending it flying into the crowd somewhere. Page takes a step forward but stops realizing it would be foolish to do anything before Theo signs the contract. Pryce smiles across the table at Page before reaching into his suit coat and pulling a pen out of the inner breast pocket. Pryce removes the cap, leans over the table and signs the contract right below the signature of his now opponent Chris Page~
Theo Pryce: See you November 27th Chris. Make sure you milk these idiots at OCW for everything you can before then because once our match is over you won’t be available to “consult” them anymore.
~Page smirks. Theo turns and heads for the ropes...he steps through and hops off the apron. He heads for the ramp...but, as he does, OCW security jumps in the way. He looks around like, ‘What the hell?’ He tries to go around the security...but more members approach, blocking his exit~
Smith: What’s going on here?
Jones: Obviously, Theo left his wallet or something in the ring and we’re being kind enough to make sure he doesn’t leave without it.
Smith: Yea, I doubt that.
~Theo tries pushing his way through, but more security members wall up...it becomes obvious he has nowhere to go. He eyes the barricade, but the ravenous, angry fans look ready to tear him apart...he’s stuck. The realization hits his face as the OCW fans go wild...we see Page in the background, slowly making his way to the front of the ring. Marcus Welsh emerges from behind the curtain~
Smith: Theo is stuck...here comes Welsh!
Jones: Yea, and Page seems to be closing in on Theo as well.
Smith: The owner of XWF has found himself caught between a rock and a hard place!
Jones: Yea and just ask James Franco how that feels.
Smith: Great movie.
~Welsh marches down the ramp. Security parts, giving Welsh passage. Theo prepares to fight Welsh...he gets in a defensive stance. However, he’s immediately wrapped up from behind by Page! The fans go crazy! Pryce tries to break free, but Page leans in, headbutting the XWF owner in the back of the head, weakening his resolve enough for Page to maintain full control. Welsh steps up, getting in Theo’s face~
Smith: It looks like the Gentleman’s Agreement is no more!
Jones: There’s gonna be some controversy regarding Welsh’s decision to break the standard rules of combat. But, whatever. The only winners in war are, ya know, the actual winners.
~Welsh, far from any kind of skilled fighter, rolls his sleeves up...he bounces around, looking pretty awkward. He throws a jab into Theo’s body. Another into Theo’s face...the XWF owner is helpless. Welsh begins trash talking, “You think you’re gonna invade MY show and get away with it?” He smacks Theo, “Think again!!” He drills Theo with another right hand, “You have NO CHANCE. This war is OURS!”~
Smith: First time I’ve seen Welsh throw punches. He looks…
Jones: Let’s be honest, it looks like shit. But not like he has anything to worry about.
~Welsh slugs Theo in the gut. He whispers some shit in Theo’s ear...we can’t hear it. Theo suddenly breaks free and goes after Welsh. Welsh is like “HELP! HELP!” Page rushes forward, clobbering Theo in the back of the head. He spins Theo around, boots him in the gut, hooks his arms and drops him with Page Plant!!!! Theo is down! Welsh drops to one knee and pie faces Theo before standing and throwing his arms in the air, triumphantly~
Smith: In the ongoing war, give one to OCW on this occasion. Theo Pryce walked into a situation he knew could go bad and, well, it certainly did.
Jones: Yep and now we’ve laid hands on the owner of XWF. Advantage us!
Smith: Chris Page will look to do even more damage to the XWF owner on November 27th...a match I’m sure we’ll all be watching with great interest.
~Welsh orders the OCW security to take Pryce and throw him into the parking lot. They nod, surrounding the XWF owner. Welsh pats Page on the back, happy with how things turned out~
Smith: A shocking turn of events, fans as the parted red sea came crashing down on XWF owner, Theo Pryce. Let’s cut to commercial break and, when we return, Kat Jones makes her in-ring debut!
~Sugar Valentine is already inside the ring as we fade in, the crowd reacting mildly to his antics. His ring gear is pretty fly, though… if we’re being honest.~
~Kat Jones, badass Cincinnati native of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. The crowd turns away from Sugar Valentine and begins to hiss their disapproval. One of OCW’s newest signings, but clearly not one of their more popular ones. It doesn’t look like she’ll be losing any sleep over it.~
~Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.~
"No remnants were ever found of it
~Kat walks toward the ring, methodically and without much concern at all, regarding the insults and jeers thrown in her direction.~
Belvedere : Making her way to the ring, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the "WildKat"... KAT JJOONNEESS!!!
"I try to hide from the unholy sound of it
~Standing before the ring apron, Kat removes her black leather jacket, whips it behind her, releasing it and allowing it to sail toward the ramp, ultimately letting out a bloodcurdling scream, before she enters the ring.~
~Sugar Valentine stands nervously in his corner, eyeing Kat after the shriek. The referee checks in with him, then checks in with Kat Jones, and calls for the bell.
DING!
DING!
DING!
~Sugar Valentine looks for immediate action, charging out of his corner as soon as the bell rings and cornering Kat Jones. The Cincinnati native is nimble on her feet and side steps quickly, sending Sugar crashing into the turnbuckle. Kat quickly hooks an arm around Valentines waist and slides into position for a belly to back suplex! She sends Valentine flying before he skids to a halt in the center of the canvas. He quickly scrambles to his feet, but Kat Jones is already in his face.~
Smith: OH! She bitch slapped him!
Jones: Uh, correction. She bitch slapped THE SHIT out of him.
~Sugar Valentine staggers backwards looking to the referee for help, but the ref just shrugs her shoulders and tells him it was clean. Sugar charges Kat Jones again but is caught with a beautiful drop toe hold that sends him crashing face first to the mat. Kat pops up and plants a standing elbow drop right in Sugar Valentine’s spine, earning a loud groan from the fans. Kat pops up again, eyeing her opponent as he tries to crawl desperately to the ropes. She drives a boot into his ribs, crumpling him, then grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him to his feet.~
Smith: Ha! She’s carrying him like a Kat! Get it? ‘Cause that’s her name!
Jones: Ooooh yeah. I got it. It just wasn’t funny.
~Kat chops Sugar across the chest, then whips around like a tornado and hits a spinning heel kick to the midsection of Valentine that doubles him over. Jones jumps in the air and lands a heavy scissor kick on the back of Sugar's neck that snaps him down to the canvas.~
Jones: … she… is… something…
Smith: Spoken for, buddy.
Jones: I MEANT HER TALENT!
Smith: Sure. Not the goth aesthetic she rocks?
Jones: SIR! I hadn’t even noticed that!
Smith: Right.
~Kat grabs Sugar Valentine by the leg and boots him in the back of the knee a few times before dropping down and quickly locking in a figure four leg lock. Sugar flops around wildly, and does basically everything but the proper defense to the hold. The referee drops to the mat and asks if he wants to tap out, but stubborn pimp that he is he vehemently refuses. He manages to roll over and drag Kat over to the ropes, grabbing hold of the bottom rope and earning a break. Kat holds on an extra second or two before releasing him and rolling up to her feet.~
Smith: This is sad. Sugar has had his hands on that rope for longer than he’s had his hands on Kat Jones in this match.
Jones: Kat was well aware of Valentine’s “handsy” past. She said she wouldn’t give him the slightest opportunity to grope her and she hasn’t. You know, speaking of groping I wouldn’t mind-
Smith: BACK TO THE ACTION!
~Sugar uses the ropes to drag himself up to his feet, staggering around to face Kat who grabs his wrist and pulls him to the middle of the ring.~
~DEAD-END!~
~Kat plants Sugar with her signature swinging neck breaker, nearly twisting his head up in the process. She pops up, towering over his body and urging him back to his feet.~
Jones: Oh, this is bad.
Smith: At what point did you consider this to be going well?!
~On instinct alone Sugar stands up and receives a stiff kick to the midsection for his trouble. He doubles over!~
~KAT-ASTROPHE!~
~Kat Jones nails the cradle DDT! Sugar Valentine is sprawled motionless on the canvas as Kat rests on her knees next to him. She looks out at the crowd as they begin to jeer loudly. What the hell were they expecting, a Sugar Valentine win?! Kat hooks Sugars leg and confidently makes the cover as the referee slides in to make the count.~
1!
2!
3!
It’s over!
DING!
DING!
DING!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...KAT JONES!!!!!
Smith: Tremendous debut victory for Kat Jones. She looks to have a bright future here in OCW, wouldn’t you agree?
Jones: You betcha.
Smith: She made short work of Sugar Valentine...however, the road will get much tougher from here. Can’t wait to see more of Miss Jones!
Jones: That makes two of us!
Smith: Alright fans...the action rolls on as we cut backstage!
Feeling the hot bile
With every fake smile
Though no evidence was ever found
It never went away completely"
Another day gone
Another night's dawn"
~We cut backstage. Mike Zybala marches down one of the many hallways within the OCW arena. He’s whistling...in a classically happy Zybala mood. He takes a swift left and opens the unlocked door. He steps inside to what looks like every evidence room you’ve ever seen on any television police drama. An aging woman sits, happily behind a cage, reading “DISILLUSIONED” by Will Gardner. She slowly removes her cheaters, places the book down and stands~
Woman: Mike.
Zybala: Ethel.
Ethel: What can I do for you?
Zybala: I was looking for a very specific item. I was hoping you still had it back there.
Ethel: Did you get permission from GM Raven? Mr. Welsh?
Zybala: Ethel, c’mon.
~Zybala leans in and slides some candy across the counter. Ethel giggles, taking the box of Milk Duds~
Ethel: You devil, you.
~Zybala smiles~
Ethel: I guess I can be of service. What item were you interested in?
Zybala: Do you remember that Farthington fellow? The Gentleman of OCW? Former Paradigm Champion. Cecilworth, I think his first name was. Middle initial ‘M’ with an explanation point...can’t forget the explanation point. You remember CM!F?
Ethel: I do. Charming fellow. Always enjoyed our visits. So, what about him?
Zybala: He won an item during his time here. It was a duck. Do you remember the duck?
Ethel: You mean the nicest duck the world has ever seen?
Zybala: That’d be the one!
Ethel: I do.
Zybala: I was hoping that, after his departure, he might have left the duck with you.
~Ethel goes quiet~
Zybala: Ethel…
Ethel: I’m sorry, Mike. But I can’t help you with The Duck.
Zybala: Can’t, or won’t?
Ethel: I think you’d better leave before Mr. Welsh finds out you’re in here.
Zybala: It’s just a duck.
~Ethel scoffs. She reopens her book and takes a seat. Zybala tries looking into the back...the shelves containing all the left-behind items...hoping he can spot THE DUCK. Ethel quickly pulls the blinds shut. Mike stands back~
Zybala: Something’s up with The Duck. And I’m gonna find out.
~We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: Why is the Duck returning? WHY?
~Nobody is there to reply~
Smith: Whatever. I guess we can’t exist without something goofy like THE DUCK or whatever being a focal point of these shows. Although, I will say...it’s a very nice duck. Anyway, I’m told we’re about to hear from Lexi...she’s set to take on Ciela later tonight...so, to the ring!
~“5 out of 6” by Dessa hits and the crowd recognizes who’s music it is and immediately thunderous boos are heard throughout the arena as Lexi Gold steps out from behind the curtain and proceeds to make her way down the ramp. She is wearing a tight fitting leopard print dress and some sparkly black heels. Her long golden locks were straightened and stayed in place as she continued her walk with a smile on her face. She climbed the steps and stepped through the bottom rope and entered the ring, then walked over to the ring attendant and asked for a microphone, waiting for her music to stop so she could address the crowd.~
Lexi Gold: Hello all you basement dwellers. I bet you didn’t expect me out here so soon. I am aware I have a match later tonight and I will address that later, but I need to get a few things off my chest. First and foremost it seems like there is some kind of war going on between XWF and OCW. I was why I did not partake in the battlefield at Masters of Macabre. I’m sorry, but I didn’t realize I was supposed to? In my opinion they all looked foolish and if I had showed up it would be a waste of my time, and besides my trust in people is very rare. I’m here with the intention of doing things on my own from here on out. Something else did catch my eye during that pay-per-view and I’ve been holding my tongue in regards to speaking about it.. until now. The disappearance of Victoria Strader. A topic that was once too sensitive to bring up and possibly still is.
~The ooh’s are heard from the crowd knowing this was going to get ugly really fast so they embraced themselves in their seats and the reaction quickly switched to boo’s directed at The Golden Goddess. She smirked and what she was about to say next.~
Lexi Gold: While everyone was panicking trying to find her, I was simply laughing my ass off at this Days of Our Lives fake bullshit. I believe it was all a masterplan by her and her girlfriend, so Victoria could acquire all the attention, because apparently she wasn’t getting enough of it. Mission accomplished. Ya’ll were so stupid to fall for it though, except me. I saw through her wolf in sheep’s clothing mentality, but go ahead and see and fail to see through her lies and bullshit. I expect the waterworks and sob story to make an appearance next week. Will I suffer repercussions from stating my views? Possibly. I’m not worried... this is tame compared to the damage I’ve said and done before. You want a real headline...how about this.. Lexi Gold defeats Ciela Luiz.
~She smirks and laughs evilly at her own prediction. Those words were enough to get an uproar from the crowd as they started a “We want Ciela” chants, rolling her eyes at their reaction and runs a hand through her hair.~
Lexi Gold: You say that you want her, but once she fails to get the job against me, would you want her broken, and defeated self after all? You may not like my actions, or my attitude, but you should want a winner not just in life, but in this match and you are looking right at her. Gold is on my sights once again and I will go through the Green Goblin, Owls, humans, or whatever else thrown against me. Bet on Gold damn it.
~She drops the mic and surveys the crowd before she exits the ring and gets ready for her match coming up a little bit later~
~”Everyone Knows I’m Hog Wild!” blares over the speakers, as the Hank Williams Jr intro starts. The fans turn to look as Aaron Warthog comes out of the back in his street clothes. The heavyweight walks down the aisle and gives some high fives to the crowd, obviously thrilled to be there as he goes to the announce table.~
Smith: I… well, apparently Aaron Warthog is joining me… Aaron, what brings you here?
~Warthog starts talking to Smith, but he hasn’t put on the headset yet, so we can’t really hear what he’s saying. Smith reaches down and picks up the headset, handing it over, and Warthog manages to readjust it before getting it on his head.~
Aaron Warthog: Thanks! Boy, this here table’s been through some shit, hasn’t it?
Smith: It’s definitely been a rough night.
Aaron Warthog: Yep, ah heard somethin’ happened with Hood. Ah was hangin’ around in the back, hopin’ maybe someone would need a sub for a match, or maybe ta get some caterin’, when they said for me to help with the next match.
Smith: So you’re filling in for Hood? I can’t wait to hear Hood’s reaction to that.
Aaron Warthog: Ah’m sure he’ll be thrilled. He’s okay, ain’t he?
Smith: I haven’t heard anything yet, other than I do believe he’s on his way to the hospital.
Aaron Warthog: Well damn! That Vaughn is nuttier than a squirrel turd, ain’t he?
Smith: Yeah, I don’t want to get on record saying anything about our champion. Let’s go to the ring!
~The shot changes to inside the ropes, where Belvedere is standing next to Clubbin Man.~
Belvedere: The next match is scheduled for one fall. Already in the ring, ready to compete… CLUBBIN MAN!!
~The crowd reaction is muted to say the least, but Clubbin Man still seems to be having a good time.~
Aaron Warthog: So this guy, he any good?
Smith: You don’t know anything about him?
Aaron Warthog: Ah like how he dresses.
Smith: Okay then…
Belvedere: His opponent, standing 5’6” and weighing 135 lbs, from Atlantic City, New Jersey… SONYA BENSON!!
~“Shatter Me” by Lindsey Stirling plays and the crowd jeers the hateful anti pro wrestling activist turned pro wrestler against her will as she emerges atop the ramp flanked by her manager Norris and her bodyguard Smith. Sonya makes a speedy trek down to the ring because she does not want to freaking be here. During their transit to the ring she makes sure to have Norris rip up some of the fans’ signs that she finds offensive. Once they get inside the ring she moves to her corner where she paces nervously while getting an encouraging pep talk from her entourage.~
Smith: Ms. Benson was counting on the training skills of Ross Hanson as she begins her OCW career tonight. However, that all came to an end as Hanson shockingly dropped her before signing the contract.
Aaron Warthog: So this girl, she ain’t got any wrestling experience?
Smith: Well, she technically had a match or two in the XWF before coming here, but I don’t know if anyone would say she got any experience from them.
Aaron Warthog: So this should be like a one-legged man in an ass-kickin’ contest.
Smith: … It’s still Clubbin Man, so I’d say this one’s more like a toss-up.
~The bell rings. Clubbin Man walks forward, looking excited to be ‘dancing’ in there with the lady in front of him. But Benson immediately steps through the ropes and goes to the outside, still talking with Norris & Smith.~
Aaron Warthog: Well are we gunna have a match or not?
Smith: From what I’ve heard, Sonya’s being forced into these matches, needing, I believe, 24 wins to avoid being taken out of her father’s will.
Aaron Warthog: That’s harsh. Ah’m still hopin’ for some cash from my great Aunt Bessie’s fortune.
Smith: Oh? Is she loaded?
Aaron Warthog: Ah could get a cool three-four figures.
~After more discussion, Benson slowly gets up on the apron. Clubbin Man is waiting patiently, as he senses this is a great opportunity for him. Benson steps through the ropes, holding something in her hand. She shows it to Clubbin Man, whose eyes open wide. It appears to be an envelope full of cash! Benson talks to him, apparently offering him the cash, while directing him to lay back and give her the pin. Scruff, standing nearby, shakes his head but doesn’t get involved.~
Smith: She’s trying to bribe Clubbin Man!
Aaron Warthog: How much is that? Ah could take Clubbin Man’s place…
Smith: You’d allow yourself to be pinned, Aaron??
Aaron Warthog: Ah got a baby on the way, due next month. Ah couldn’t jump over a nickel to save a dime! Someone wants to pay to pin me, ah’m not objectin’.
~Clubbin Man seems to be seriously considering the bribe. He turns to talk to Scruff about it, with Scruff not saying anything in response. That doesn’t stop Clubbin Man from having a full conversation. Benson waits nervously, waving the envelope back and forth in her hand. After a few seconds, Clubbin Man seems to come to a decision, thanking Scruff for his knowledge and experience. Scruff still hasn’t said a word. Clubbin Man turns back to Benson and firmly shakes his head no, turning down the bribe! Benson, furious, turns and tosses the money back to Norris, keeping it away from the wrestler in front of her.~
Smith: I gotta say, I didn’t see Clubbin Man turning it down.
Aaron Warthog: Guess he really wants that OCW signature win. Ah guess ah can’t blame him.
~Benson tells Clubbin Man he’s making a huge mistake. They start to circle, with Benson trying to stay out of range. Suddenly, her bodyguard jumps up on the apron, catching Clubbin Man’s attention. He turns that way, with Benson immediately running in behind him and kicking him in the back of the leg! Clubbin Man hops a few times in pain before turning around, as Benson runs at him, landing some frantic diva slaps! But after multiple slaps land, Clubbin Man grabs one of her hands, no longer smiling. Benson pulls herself free, backing away and immediately begging for mercy as the jobber approaches her.~
Smith: Well, that didn’t work.
Aaron Warthog: Those kicks were weaker than my cousin’s attempt at moonshine! Ah don’t see how she survives now!
~With her bodyguard and manager anxiously watching from the outside, Benson is backed into a corner by Clubbin Man. She’s still begging off, saying that the offer of money was still on the table. Maybe she could get even more. But Clubbin Man’s not hearing it. He tells her to come out and take her medicine. She points at him, saying that she knows he enjoys a good tune in the club, so let her entertain him. She starts singing, belting out the chorus part of “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons.~
Aaron Warthog: Ah God, MAH EARS!!
Smith: That’s… not very good.
Aaron Warthog: Ah’ve heard better singin’ from a drunk rooster!
~Benson continues to sing, putting her heart and soul into her rendition to try and earn some sympathy. Clubbin Man has dropped to his knees, his hands over his head, crying out in agony and desperately yelling for Scruff to do something. Scruff, strangely, doesn’t seem affected as he stands to the side, watching on. Benson hits a high note, of a sort, and Clubbin Man lets out another yell, before slapping the mat in front of him repeatedly. Scruff, seeing this, signals for the bell.~
Aaron Warthog: Wha… what just happened?
Smith: I think… Clubbin Man tapped out!
Belvedere: Here is your winner… SONYA BENSON!!
~Benson has stopped singing now, thankfully, and is looking on in surprise as Scruff walks over to her. He raises her arm, and she starts jumping up and down, ecstatic at being one win closer to freedom. Her manager and bodyguard signal for her to come out and celebrate with them outside the ring, away from the still-suffering Clubbin Man.~
Smith: In the history of OCW, that has to go down as one of the most bizarre finishes ever.
Aaron Warthog: Mah ears are still ringin’. Ah think ah’m going to head out, Smith. Ah’ll leave this all to the professionals.
Smith: Thanks for coming, Aaron! We’ll see who they send out next!
~Warthog gets up, having taken off the headset. Down the aisle, we see Benson still celebrating, although she’s careful to let anyone get too close to her.~
~A single white sock dangles from the doorknob of James Raven's GM office door. As the camera pans out, Jason Cashe is standing, almost frozen as he stares at the footwear. The meaning was as classic as finger banging on Prom Night.~
Cashe: I see the sock but.. I don't HEAR anything?
~Coming from around the corner is Cyrus Riddle. Nodding as he sees his Tag Partner, Riddle approaches.~
Riddle: What's going on? Did we get the approval?
Cashe: Shhh… Do you hear anything?
~Pointing towards the sock, Cashe knew that Riddle knew exactly what it meant. It was universal wasn't it? Pretty sure it's even known amongst D&D Players.~
Riddle: No. I don't hear anythi… Are you trying to listen for Sex Noises?!
Cashe: Nooo!
~Shrugging, he kind of was doing exactly that.~
Cashe: Maybe. You pointing it out makes it weird though..
Riddle: Did you even knock?
~His focus on the sock covered doorknob came undone as Jason looked at Riddle oddly. He clearly didn't knock but the sock threw him off, it was to blame.~
Cashe: Who knocks when a sock is present? That just seems rude!
Riddle: That's the business we're in. To be rude. I'll do it…
Cashe: Wow! Cyrus Riddle being a cockblock.. Who'd have thunk it? Not me!
~Brisking by Cashe, Cyrus Riddle hammerfists the door to the Office. Bang, Bang, Bang, a good few hard pounds. There was no way someone inside didn't hear it, it's not like there was any noise to block it out.~
Cashe: We could always hand write a letter requesting a match next week? That seems professional even..
Riddle: Is it locked?
~Riddle asks but he doesn't wait for an answer. One of those hypothetical questions as he grabs the sock and pulls it free from the doorknob. Tossing it to the ground, he tries the handle. It was locked. Turning from the door, Riddle's face crunches in an awkward surprise as Cashe is sniffing the sock.~
Riddle: What is wrong with you?
Cashe: I don't think this belongs to either one of them! James So Raven or Betsy!
Riddle: How do you know?
~Extending the sock out, Cashe offers Riddle the chance for a whiff. Riddle slaps the offer away as Cashe explains.~
Cashe: It's not a Man's sock unless James So Raven has small feet. And it has a Gummy Worms smell to it so I would hope Betsy takes better care of her feet.. No, no..
~Pulling the sock in for another smell. Cashe doesn't see Tara Fenix come around the corner. Riddle spots her and as Cashe deep sniffs on the sock with his eyes closed. Riddle bails from the scene as Tara casually walks into it. Before his eyes open, Cashe speaks on his findings.~
Cashe: We need to get Porter to do a list on Feet cause I'm feeling like we done discovered Betsy's imperfection. I smelled Tara's feet the othe--
~His eyes opened and there before him was no longer his Tag Partner. Riddle was gone! Now before him was his girlfriend and XWF Member, Tara Fenix.~
Cashe: Heeeeey baby! What's good? Where did Riddle go?!
Tara Fenix: Well?
Cashe: Well what?
Tara Fenix: How did my feet smell?
Cashe: That's kind of weird Tara… Who asks that?
~Putting the sock in his pocket, Cashe turns to leave. Tara looks sarcastically offended as Cashe tried to turn the weird back onto her.~
Tara Fenix: Who smells feet? Who smells random socks?!
~Snapping back at her, he was trying to be serious.~
Cashe: Hey! Don't kink shame!! I like smells and you're my favorite scent..
~Grabbing her hand, Cashe pulls Tara close. She is reluctant as he kisses her on the cheek. Tara reaches into Cashe's pocket and pulls free the sock. She holds it up and shakes her head at Cashe.~
Tara Fenix: Let's not keep this ok? It smells like Sour Patch Kids..
Cashe: That's IT!!! I said Gummy Worms..
~They leave around the corner. Cashe and Riddle want a Tag Match next Massacre. Hopefully someone tells James Raven. Also, Betsy's feet smell like Sour Patch Kids.. Pass it on.~
~The lights in the arena suddenly cut out throughout the arena. About a second later, the intro to "EARFQUAKE" by Galleons begins to play. A few seconds in, tied to a specific two notes about seven seconds in, a strobe effect illuminates the stage, revealing someone standing in the middle of the entrance portion of the stage. As the drumline picks up, a orange-tinted spotlight shines down to reveal Graham Clauson standing but looking away from the ring, pointing towards it with his hand shaped to mimic a pistol. Graham is not in wrestling gear, but in street clothes~
~As the beat of the song kicks in, Graham’s arm pulls up swiftly, causing a bright flash of light at the stage before the lighting within the arena returns to normal. Slowly allowing his arm to return down to his side, Graham looks out towards the crowd for a moment before motioning for the camera to be brought closer by curling his index finger to beckon them closer~
Belvedere: Please welcome, at this time, from Cincinnati, Ohio, now calling OCW home...he is the one and only Notorious 5-1-3... Graham Clauson!
~The camera, now closer to Graham, exclaiming "I’m about to light this place up, LET'S GO!" before blowing past the camera with a quick step forward, beginning his trek down towards the ring~
~Shortly before making it to ringside, Graham bursts into a sprint before jumping upwards, swinging his legs upwards and letting momentum slide him under the bottom ropes. Shortly after stopping, Graham gets up to one knee and looks and points above him. Still looking up, he begins to step towards the ropes closest to the hard camera and brings the arm he raised down, bending down and bringing his body between the top and middle rope on the apron's end with his arms extended. Shortly after, he bends forward and is fully in the ring, stepping towards the timekeeper, handing Graham a microphone~
Smith: And here’s our first real look at Graham Clauson. He’s a big name within the sport, fans. He’s got the ability to do some major in-ring damage with his physical strengths. But tonight...tonight I think he’s looking to do some damage with his mouth. Let’s listen in on what he has to say!
...let’s just get to it. At Masters of Macabre, I kinda pulled an Altered Beast and popped back up, huh? Suddenly good ol’ GC is in OCW...but why am I here running my mouth? Aren’t I representing the brand next week on Tara Fenix’s Charity Cruise?
~ Well, if you wanted a cheap pop, that’s one way to get it. ~
You’d think I’d want to be in here beating up some random Indy guy that Marcus brought in to get their ass destroyed, get some possible ring-rust off. And don’t worry, I’ve already heard it from all over the IWC, you’re all chattering about me running off again because I’m not getting some top spot, like some selfish, self-absorbed idiot...well, I get that.
Let’s not mince words here, I’m cognizant to my own fuck-ups. I’m the one who fucked everything up for myself prior to this… I mean, my mouth has gotten me fired…hell, many times... And even after all of that, you all still just love to hear me talk shit?
~ Cheap pop from the crowd. ~
Okay, so good, one thing I’m not bad at. So, let’s talk shit, then. About some real shit that became dumb shit. But, the first order of shit I have to knock out, and I’m making this clear: Ross Hanson is gone from OCW.
~ This catches the fans, and the commentary team, off guard. A mixed reaction of cheers and boos come from the crowd. ~
Yes, you heard me, this isn’t some stunt. He’s not here, he won’t be here, and that’s that. I told him to stay home. At first, after all the mental bullshit I have been going through, I was going to just go home and take a second before I let this send me back into the hospital. But, I’m not going to let this bullshit sideline me. I’ve been holding myself back, let alone letting everyone else dictate what I do. No more. I don’t have to get into why Ross is not coming back, because he made it publicly clear what his problem was before he nuked his social media. And that’s the tame part about this.
My issue? I’m tired of people connecting me to others and then saying I throw shit until it sticks, so let’s get to brass tacks. You all want to run your mouths, but you forget that I still am not going to back down at let some stupid New York fuck who sounds like Howard Stern with two dildos shoved up his nose dictate my narrative.
The first rule about FIGHT Club isn't that everyone's supposed to be talking about FIGHT Club. Well...we know how I feel about those social rules…
~ Graham smirks, looking right at the cameraman nearby and winking. ~
Either go take your piss break like an asshole now, or stay and listen, because it’s storytime. Grab your bag of popcorn, and let’s talk real about what the real FIGHT was…
~ A mixed reaction from the crowd, as some fans in attendance may be FIGHT fans, as well. Graham simply scoffs. ~
Are you surprised? Me, talking about my former employers? How taboo...
~ Graham shakes his head in derision, briefly pausing in his speech before continuing. ~
I never got a chance to say my side of things, like always, so I’m going to take this opportunity while I have this block of time to make sure that my former employer is paying attention when they see the guy they claim to have been one of their top talents appearing on a competitor’s broadcast about two months later… You should’ve kept that non-compete clause tight, and that non-disclosure agreement closer.
~Graham takes a breath and continues to speak ~
The real fight wasn’t with my contract, it was with their creative team. When you’re in FIGHT, you aren’t there to compete, or really to entertain a live crowd. You aren’t even there really to even do what I was employed to do half the time, which was wrestle matches. It’s a damn television program from head to toe. Imagine it: You come in, you’re told they are shooting a segment, and here is what you’re doing within it.
It’s fucking one degree away from being Heels on Starz, and I almost started asking what my character’s motivation was before I finally got sick and tired of it and started asking what my real job is and stopped asking what flavor of shit I was having.
The other part that should’ve made it clear that I was part of a show and not a wrestling promotion is the fact that I can throw a guy down two flights of stairs, but he can come back ten minutes later to heave a fucking copier and beat me with it until I’m covered in toner dust. How is that even minutely realistic? Because we’re not filming in the order of events, like a real wrestling show that is happening live would occur. You know, kinda like the place I just put ink on the line for, and not on my skin? And that’s the rich part about it, because I have no idea which Producer thought it was a good idea for a white guy with Mexican heritage to show up to a match effectively in blackface…or was it green...or…
...you know, nevermind, the point has been made. HBO was less restrictive than this with Outlaw Pro, but yet that shit flew past the censors. FIGHT may as well have been on El Rey Network. In the time I left that little Lucha Underground, we have seen it come up with a paternity suit, a divorce hearing, the running of a strip club on Friday nights in the lobby of the place they run a wrestling company out of and wonder why all the trainees show up hung-over on Saturday morning, and Fuzz getting a main event push. You also had a fucking gun threat, and my entire gimmick was centered around gun violence. Y’all talking about guns and y’all ain’t shot none of them bitches, shut the fuck up… Stop frontin’! Seriously!
~ Graham can’t help but chuckle a bit as he continues on. ~
Can you blame a guy for wanting to walk away from such bit-rate, carny bullshit masquerading in corporate bankroll? You really shouldn’t, if you do.
But listen to me when I say this: Working somewhere that clearly only views your interests as theirs as long as you are willing to play their game? It literally drains your soul. It’s not a metaphor or an allegory; it is a fact of life, and I’m somehow standing here as living proof. They decided that it was more fruitful for them to try to pin the blame on their desire to have me play this...part…they were so determined for me to continue playing. But, they played me. They played me hard...
During that “contract fight”, the rest of the fucking book for the season was laid out in front of me. Anyone who listens to the podcasts out there, this pretty much got confirmed from the horse’s mouth, so shout-out to Chris Page for confirming that what I knew was essentially going to happen. Good dude, by the way…
I was supposed to be the leader of a “stable” of the misfit toys nobody wanted to work with as a group, and we were to fight the already established groups...somehow, as a team...with less than four shows to build to the end of the season. Since then, they’ve basically turned it into the equivalent of American Gladiators in a wrestling ring. I was going to have to eat loss for loss for the remainder of the season until I suddenly reveal I’m masking my power level like this shit is Dragonball and come out with green body paint all over me.
~ Many of the crowd actually laugh at this. It seems like the only ones not laughing is Graham. ~
But wait, it gets better! I know about what was going down in Outlaw. Oh yeah… Cats out of the bag, House Wolf. Eventually, the seeds you sow come back to sprout, and one comes to me out of the ground and starts telling all like I’m Barbara Walters.
~ More of the crowd joins in as the rest laugh harder. ~
You couldn’t stand that you were no longer the golden boy and Johnny had a brand new toy to play with. You kicked and screamed like little bitches until I made it perfectly clear that you were old news and I was the next wave the night I showed up. You didn’t like that I walked in, I knew my fucking worth and shaking my nuts in your face. If you weren't afraid of your nuts falling out of one of the pores in your fucking ballsack, you might have actually shook yours back instead of whining to whoever would listen to you in the staff room. And even if that’s false, I trust the words of a snake more than I trust the words of a Wolf.
You want a scoop, Chris? Talk to me. I’ll even give you two, because I'm a babyface now and feeling a little more generous than usual.
~ Finally, Graham cracks a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. ~
And it wasn’t just you, either, Xavier. This shit wasn’t a damn storyline or some program we were running involving those random homeless kids you all picked up: What was going down at the end of Outlaw and FIGHT was a fucking shoot from start to finish. And what was your ultimate complaint about it all after you relented and I finally got a foot in the door right at the end of Outlaw’s run?
“All you do is bring up the same person you’ve beaten, over and over.”
Um, duh?! What the fuck did you expect?! That was the only fucking good finish you would give me, you stupid bastards! Were you even watching your own product?!
You see… Fuck it, since we’re speaking real, let’s get truly real about this. What people in the administrative portions of the business forget, almost all the time, is that there are actual human beings that they are working with. People like me… People like Ross Hanson, people like Thebe Nwadike, Lexi Gold, and even Bam Miller… No matter what you may see of us in this ring, we do have families. We have aspirations. We have emotions, too. We are willing to accept a lot in life, sure...but not when you keep putting a glass ceiling right above your dick before you’ll let us break through it. You forgot that about me, too, and the years of it all finally snapped me. YOU snapped me, FIGHT. You may not have meant to do it, but you did. I was nothing but a prop to you; expendable and repla-.
~ Graham stops himself, realizing he is getting way too upset. ~
Ugh...when I came out here, I swear I didn’t want to start shitting all over your company, because I have no problem with anyone on the talent roster there on a personal level that isn’t natural rivalry within the backstage of this business. This isn’t one bit fair to them, and that’s real talk.
But, I was there and I know that under that wonderful coat of green and black paint isn’t a paradise. You want stuntmen who can act in your knockoff of a hit series, and the men and women you employ are much better than glorified bump-takers to make your special camera angles straight out of a Michael Bay film. It’s disgusting how you claim to be a wrestling promotion in one breath, but the only wrestling matches I recall actually taking place were the ones I had with Warstein and Brandon Moore, which both ended in bullshit. The rest? Barnum and Bailey. Call me conceited, but that’s how I see it…
~ Graham shrugs, saying “Sorry, not sorry” with the microphone barely picking it up. ~
This is why someone like me would, when they are at what they think is truly rock bottom, would have done what I had done about a month ago... I would show up to work, do what I had been doing for as long as I can even remember, and be told that it was great and they just couldn’t wait for more and had big plans… I wanted to work with everyone I could to make sure that the show that you all wanted to see came to life, and all I really wanted was to be part of it that you enjoyed watching. Instead, no matter how much success I really had gotten to...well, it always felt like a failure for the simple fact that even if they didn’t see it as a failure, they weren’t me with my baggage. When you have a father who has the stereotypical dojo-style training where perfection is required, and you’re always going in the back of your mind…”will I ever truly amount to anything for anyone?” Yeah, boo hoo, daddy problems...
But yet, after all was said and done, not even a few days after my contract ended with FIGHT, I got drunk. I got stupid drunk. I got so stupid drunk that all of that was speaking to me directly. After fighting almost 15 years to achieve something more in this business other than just being Madman Szalinski’s sidekick for over half of it? The one thing you know you want to do in life, no one wants you? So, I took a look at a prescription of pain medication I had for a nagging knee injury I was putting off giving some time to heal...and I swallowed every one I had left, thinking “Yeah, I think it’s time to go.”
~ Nobody is laughing now. In fact, several of them are definitely being emotionally affected by this story. Graham appears very calm and matter-of-fact about the entire matter, almost as if it’s just now a passing event to him. ~
In my inebriated wisdom, I began chugging over half a bottle of cheap bourbon and popping half a script of oxy’s because...no other promotion was ever going to touch me. I had felt I was viewed as the fall guy by many promotions...for years… At that moment, I truly believed FIGHT was my last chance, and I couldn’t give this crazy ass business up...
...and now, by the grace of something in this universe, I’m now here. I had been doubting myself for so long, and thinking I had fucked up too hard to come back from it… I’m not the first, I’m certainly not going to be the last, but doing so may have been a blessing in disguise for me. While I was stuck in a psych ward for a week, my husband...folks, the man is truly a Saint, and I probably wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for him, but...he was getting phone calls, texts, emails from people he had never spoken to in this business. These people were asking if he was okay, was I okay, what can they do to support… Two of those people actually are part of OCW, one of them being someone you wouldn’t expect. That’s one of the things that made me realize that I was a dumbass and I was actually more loved by people who weren’t even involved with my former employer. What I did wasn’t something to get people’s attention...but it did. And as much as I’m doing all I can not to turn into some running fountain in the middle of the ring when I say this...I owe it to all of you not to falter again.
If anything, I wish FIGHT nothing but the best in their first...and only season, if I had my way. I know that after this is all said and done, they’re going to run it up to 4, if you catch my drift. No better than the drivel that still hangs around there. The people under contract are talented, no doubt, but lead by a pompous asshole, a reasonable asshole, and someone who’s actually decent. But, we know majority rules, and no talent should be held under the thumb of a creative team without any truly constructive input on how things go down.
The thing it boils down to is that they claim to be a true sports experience, but for me, it turned out to be nothing more than a circus that didn’t have to happen. I’m not some fucking acrobat, goddammit. I’m a fucking professional wrestler, and you should’ve been upfront and told me I was being cast to an acting role instead of a damn wrestling promotion. None of this had to happen. None of it! But no, they continue this and everything that comes out with a corporate letterhead or anything that shows it was officially approved media from FIGHT is nothing but hype for a subpar show that probably should only be getting broadcasted at 3 AM on Public Access.
I’m just one of the many people they brought in, gangbanged for all they were worth, and kicked out like it’s a rotating casting door...or was it a couch? I remember my ass feeling pretty good after I left, so…
~ Some of the crowd catch this last sentence, getting a small bit of laughter from the audience immediately. ~
What? What do you expect from a gay man? I’m going to poke fun at it. And my ass.
~ This, however, turns into a cheap pop from the crowd mixed with laughter. ~
Just know that although I have no problem with the talent who work there, know that I will never...ever forgive those in positions of power there. Except Vhodka; that bitch is actually cool as shit. But the others at the table? I don’t have to forgive you, and I don’t have to forget what you did. All I wanted to do was tell my side of this, and move forward to this promotion with fans and staff that actually appreciate me and what I bring to this instead of the value of a family name. I truly don’t give two shits what you think of me, because you already think ill of me. You’re not who I answer to. Not anymore. And nor will I again, ever.
Oh, and Dave the Dinosaur? You’re Lil Dickie in a damn dinosaur suit, get a better gimmick. “Hi, I’m Dave…” Hi, here’s my foot up your ass…
~ Graham shakes his head, clearly annoyed at this point. ~
So, I’m going to make this statement, and I will even make it violently clear if I have to: This will be the very last night you ever hear me mention anything about FIGHT publically going forward. If I’m asked about details, I’m not saying anything more. It’s done. I’m sick of it all. That part of my career almost ended along with me existing, and I can’t do that again… Part of moving forward is not looking back, and your literal Mortal Kombat tower is in my past.
You almost extinguished my fire, X. But you failed. I may have made a dumb decision, but at least I’m here to admit it and try to make the best of a bad situation. I’ve finally started seeing the mistakes that I made...amongst many things in my life. And that, folks, is where the actual shoot ends and we get back to the pomp and circumstance you all pay to see!
Loyalty for me has always been a touchy subject, and there are two things that loyalty does. It either shows your willingness to stand by people or ideals, or it is a bargaining chip for someone else. If I would’ve arrived at the arena 15 minutes earlier, maybe last Sunday would’ve gone down differently… Maybe, if I would’ve known that the loincloth-wearing idiot basically hitched up with a girl quicker than any Lesbian I’ve ever encountered…he may actually be standing here and working, instead of wallowing in his own self-pity.
My reputation, good and bad, is my own fault. I’m a little older, a little wiser, Death and I had a good conversation...told me to “get my head out of my ass, get back into the meat suit and show what you’re capable of”...
~ Graham stops, lowering his mic and looking straight into the hard camera. His eyes, widened and slightly angry, pierce the camera lens for a moment, before breaking the gaze. This appeared to be a very deliberate message. ~
...and what I’m capable of is showing you that this crazy fuck from Cincinnati ain’t some random punk bitch.
This is professional wrestling, we aren't some chess piece. You know without a doubt that if you start any more shit, I’m still going to let two shells off in your nog - one verbal, one physical. The thing you will know very soon is the Graham Clauson that you saw in FIGHT, or even Outlaw, isn't who I really am down deep. I had it wrong…all wrong...
Now I’m going to make it right. And it starts tonight. It's time for Round II.
~ As their theme music starts to play, Graham moves to return the microphone to the ring announcer. ~
Smith: Graham Clauson with some strong...some might even say, offensive remarks. I’d like to remind people that the views shared by Clauson are his and his alone. We at OCW have no opinion on other promotions.
~Smith is fed something through his headset~
Smith: Except for XWF. We totally hate XWF and wish to squash them out of existence.
~Smith smiles~
Smith: Regardless of your opinion in regards to Clauson’s words...you can’t deny the passion. He’s here for Round II. He looks motivated. He looks focused...all the makings for a successful return. Best of luck to you, Graham! Alright...let’s cut to a commercial break and when we return, Ciela Luiz takes on Lexi Gold for a shot at the Craze Title!
~We cut to commercial~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and the winner will receive a shot against Dylan Thomas for the Craze Championship!!! Introducing first…
~The lights in the arena go out as a green spotlight illuminates the ramp. The beginning sounds of "Build a Bitch" play over the loud speaker~
"This ain't build a bitch (a bitch)
~As the drum and guitars kick in Ciela Luiz steps out onto the ramp. She takes in the cheers of the fans as she walks slowly down the ramp, dancing to the music~
"Bob the Builder broke my heart
~She slides in the ring as she climbs the turnbuckle. The cameras cut to a section of the crowd with a sign that says "Green Moblin Section" Ciela points to the Moblins as she hops down and waits on her opponent~
Belvedere: From Los Angeles, California...standing five feet tall and weighing in at 100lbs...Ciela Luiz!!!
~The Green Moblins go WILD! There’s a large gathering of them near ringside~
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~5 out of 6 by Dessa as Lexi Gold makes her way from behind the curtain and down the ramp. People who love snakes go wild. People who think snakes are icky, fold their arms. Lexi’s focus remains steadfast on the ring...she slides in and pops to her feet, ready to go~
Belvedere: From Los Angeles, California...standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs...Lexi Gold!!!
~Belvedere exits. Lexi and Ciela stare each other down. Scruff calls for the bell. It rings and the crowd pops...the two women rush one another and lock up in the center of the ring~
Smith: And we’re off!
Leo: Yusss
Smith: Oh, hey Leo.
Leo: What up. I’m down here supporting female wrestling.
Smith: I’m sure.
~Lexi uses her size and strength to lock Ciela’s head. Ciela tries to break free, but Lexi’s grip is too strong, so Ciela bullies Lexi into the ropes. She shoots Lexi off and across the ring. Gold sprints into the ropes. She bounces off. Ciela charges, looking for a hurricanrana...she jumps up, but Lexi catches her!! Ciela punches Lexi in the head...Lexi’s base weakens. Luiz hops over Lexi’s head, landing behind her. Gold turns around and gets caught with a Pele Kick!!! Gold drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring~
Smith: Fast paced action early on...great athleticism shown there by Ciela Luiz.
Leo: Green is in, Smith. The hair on Ciela Luiz does it for me.
Smith: Leo, I don’t think the fans are interested in what ‘does it’ for you.
Leo: Yea they are.
~A bunch of Green Moblins lean over the guardrail and yell mean things at Lexi. One of them mentions Lexi’s ex-husband. Lexi turns and hisses at them. They all back away, scared. Ciela charges. Gold turns. Luiz flies through the ropes with a suicide dive!!! She lands right on top of Lexi, taking her down!! The Green Moblins go wild...they squirt a bunch of green liquid into the air. Luiz leans against the barricade, holding her midsection in pain~
Smith: Look at the young Luiz go! She can smell championship opportunity!
Leo: Yeeeeuhhhh...I’m gonna have to introduce myself to young Ciela.
Smith: You leave that young woman alone, Leo.
Leo: What are you, her daddy?
Smith: My cats are my children, thank you very much.
Leo: Weirdo
~Luiz is back on her feet. She knows she’s gotta stay on top of Lexi. The Moblins pat her on the back...very excited. One offers her a green gummy bear. Ciela politely declines...but the Moblins aren’t upset...they’ve got a bag FULL of green gummy bears, so they go to town. Ciela yanks Lexi up and slings her back into the ring. Ciela hops onto the apron. Lexi is on all fours, trying to get to her feet. Luiz leaps up and springboards off the top rope...she flies at Lexi with a hurricanrana...she takes Lexi over and holds on for the pin!!! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Lexi Gold kicks out! She needs to do something to slow Ciela Luiz down.
Leo: Green gummy bears are the worst. The white ones are where its at.
Smith: I’m a red gummy bear fan, personally.
Leo: Basic
~Luiz is back on her feet. She may be small but she’s super quick. She backs into a corner, waiting for Lexi to get to her feet. Gold stands...Ciela charges forward...she throws an enziguri...but Lexi ducks!!! Ciela whiffs. Lexi grabs Ciela’s legs and has her in the wheel barrow position...she falls back, throwing Ciela over with a wheelbarrow suplex!!! Ciela hits hard, holding the back of her head in pain. The Green Moblins BOOOO!~
Smith: Tremendous power shown there by Lexi Gold. Ciela may have been a little too aggressive.
Leo: Shit. She can be as aggressive as she wants with me, yo.
Smith: LEO
~Lexi returns to her feet and grabs a handful of green hair. She yanks Ciela to her feet and whips her, harshly into the corner. Luiz hits hard. Lexi charges forward with a HUGE SPLASH!!! Ciela is rocked. Lexi punches Ciela in the head a few times, sending that green hair flying around. She then delivers a knife edged chop that slices through Ciela and the OCW arena. Lexi snares Ciela by the arm and slings her into the middle of the ring with a hip toss...Luiz elevates high and lands HARD, arching her back in pain~
Smith: Lexi Gold in total control. It’s going to be hard for Ciela to battle back given Lexi’s advantage in strength.
Leo: I think I know where Lexi’s power comes from.
Smith: Don’t you say it, Leo.
~Ciela sits up, trying to recover from the barrage of power moves Lexi has thrown her way. Gold snags Luiz by the hair once more, yanking her to her feet. Lexi tries to hook Luiz from behind, but Ciela throws a mule kick, nailing Lexi in the gut. Ciela hits the ropes...she bounces off and leaps at Lexi...but Lexi catches her, she spins around and PLANTS Luiz into the mat with a Sidewalk Slam!!! She goes for the pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Just a one...Ciela has a ton of fight in her.
Leo: She’s feisty. I bet she’s a handful.
Smith: LEO STAHP
~Lexi sits up and begins to choke Ciela. The GREEN MOBLINS boo and scream for Scruff to do something. He counts to five before getting Lexi off of Ciela. Lexi ceases the choking and returns to her feet. She snares Ciela and pulls her back to her feet. She boots Ciela in the gut. She hooks Ciela around the waist for a Gut Wrench Suplex...she lifts Ciela up...but Luiz flips over, landing on her feet. Lexi spins around, trying to locate Luiz...as she does, she gets hit with an Enziguri!!! Gold collapses to the ring!! The Green Moblins go wild~
Smith: Great move by Ciela! She’s back in this!
Leo: Yo, we got like an employee phone book or something? Hook me up with them green digits.
Smith: I will do no such thing!
~Ciela returns to her feet and staggers for the nearest corner...she climbs to the top, her back facing Lexi. Luiz finds her balance and she leaps off with Princesca (Moonsault)!!!! Lexi gets her knees up!!! Luiz crashes HARD!! She rolls around, holding her midsection in pain as Gold sits up, laughing~
Smith: Looks like Lexi sucked Ciela right into that trap.
Leo: So, Lexi sucks, eh?
Smith: You’re the worst, Leo.
~Back on her feet, Gold yanks the injured Ciela back to her feet. She kicks her in the gut and swiftly plants her face first into the mat with an Implant DDT. Ciela is face down on the mat as Lexi sits up, going about things in a confident, methodical style~
Smith: If I were a betting man, I’d say Ciela’s odds are higher than Jason Cashe right now.
Leo: Dang, Smith. Look at you with the jokes. You want to know a fun fact?
Smith: Not really.
Leo: It’s a fact that Jason Cashe has never...can never get...TOO HIGH
Smith: So glad we all know that, thanks Leo.
~Gold, back on her feet, yanks Ciela to hers. Luiz tries to fire up, but Lexi cracks her jawline with a forearm, staggering the precocious, green haired youngster. She knees Luiz in the gut, pulls her in and tosses her over with LEXIPLEX (Bridging Fisherman’s Suplex)!!!! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!!
Smith: Ciela kicks out!
Leo: What’s that move called?
Smith: Lexiplex.
Leo: She can lexiplex me all day long!
Smith: For heaven’s sake.
~Gold appears frustrated for the first time this evening. Back on her feet, she pulls Ciela up...but Ciela fires up, nailing Lexi with some forearms!! Lexi takes a giant swing at Ciela...but Ciela ducks and leaps up with another Enziguri!!! Lexi is staggered...Luiz didn’t get all of it, but she got enough. She leans into the ropes and rushes over with a clothesline that sends Lexi to the mat! Gold, however, kicks her legs up after hitting the mat and nips up, sending her legs around Luiz’s head!! The Green Moblins gasp in shock. Lexi tosses Ciela forward with FOOL’S GOLD (Modified Headscissors Driver into the middle turnbuckle)!!!!! Gold yanks Ciela out of the corner and rolls her up. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3...NO!
Smith: Luiz kicks out, again!
Leo: You see how flexy Lexi is? I likey.
Smith: I think you’re worse than Hood, and that’s saying something.
~Gold slaps the mat, frustrated. She looks at Scruff, her eyes full of fire. Scruff is like, “Sorry. But it was only a two. Please don’t throw any snakes on me~
Smith: Lexi needs to stop arguing with Scruff. Ciela is still very much in this.
Leo: She’s also feisty. Tremendous.
~Gold continues to glare and threaten Scruff. She’s taken her focus completely off of Ciela. A big mistake. Ciela gets to her feet and she stuns Lexi with a backstabber!!! Gold drops to her knees...Ciela takes off, she hits the ropes, she comes off and CRACKS Lexi in the head with Viva La Familia (Shining Wizard)!!!! Lexi collapses to the mat. Ciela fights to her feet...she stumbles and staggers to a corner. The Green Moblins are going wild, throwing green Jello into the air~
Smith: Ciela can win this!! She’s heading to the top.
Leo: Babe’s got impressive stamina. Oh yea.
Smith: You’ve turned into a real creep.
~Ciela reaches the top rope. She looks down at Lexi. She points to her Green Moblins….they jump up and down, throwing green confetti into the air. Ciela leaps off with Over the Rainbow (Twisted Bliss)!!!! But Lexi moves!!!! Luiz hits the mat, HARD! The Green Moblins scream out in terror~
Smith: Lexi moved!
Leo: Oh shit!!
~Gold struggles to her feet. She grabs Lexi and hooks her onto her back...she’s looking for GOLDDIGGER (Gory Bomb). Ciela struggles and fights, knowing this could be it. She reaches for and finds the ropes of a corner. She breaks her hands free and grabs onto them, moving her legs up and around Lexi’s head...she brings her legs in, violently. The back of Lexi’s head SLAMS into the corner. She stumbles forward, collapsing to the mat, center of the ring. Ciela suddenly finds herself on the corner, Lexi down. She looks out at the fans, who are cheering...the Green Moblins have ripped their shirts off and are bathing in green paint~
Smith: C’mon, Ciela! You got this!
Leo: About to pounce on Lexi. Something I wouldn’t mind…
Smith: SHUT UP
~Luiz wastes no time...she jumps off the top rope, soars through the air and comes down with Over the Rainbow!!!!! She connects!! The ring shakes!! She hooks both legs...Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...and the #1 Contender for the Craze Championship...CIELA LUIZ!!!!!
Smith: Big, breakthrough win for Ciela!
Leo: I’m gonna head down there and physically congratulate her.
Smith: NO YOU WILL NOT
~Luiz pops to her feet, overjoyed with the win. She slides out of the ring and parties with her Green Moblins. Lexi sits up, punching the mat out of frustration~
Smith: Tough loss for Lexi...but she was game. She’ll get more opportunities, no doubt. A great match...with one more left to come. Now, let’s head backstage!
You don't get to pick and choose
Different ass and bigger boobs
If my eyes are brown or blue
This ain't build a bitch (a bitch)
I'm filled with flaws and attitude
So if you need perfect, I'm not built for you (yeah)"
Told me I need fixing
Said that I'm just nuts and bolts
Lot of parts were missing
Curvy like a cursive font
Virgin and a vixen
That's the kind of girl he wants
But he forgot"
~ We cut back to the office of Marcus Welsh. He is doing paperwork or whatever the fuck he does around here. Is he the G.M.? Is Raven the G.M.? Who knows. All we know is Welsh has some power. Anyways, Welsh is working peacefully until his door is kicked open violently. Welsh is startled by this and absolutely freaks out when Mike Zybala walks in toting his shotgun. ~
Welsh: What the fuck, Zybala?!?
Zybala: Perimeter check completed, Marcus. No XWFuckers have been seen around the building... Well except Betsy, but she's bi-XWF, bi-OCW, so she's cool.
Welsh: And you needed to kick down my door to tell me this?!
Zybala: Sorry. I get carried away when I'm carrying a firearm. Plus, I didn't sleep good last night and I have like five No Sugar Redbulls in my system. They say no sugar, but I still get the same energy.
~ Welsh is about to reply when static emits from Zybala's hip. He holds up a finger then picks up a walkie talkie that was clipped to his side. ~
Zybala: Didn't copy that. Nothing but static. Repeat, over.
Voice: I said we're all clear up here, Mike. No sign of helicopters or anything. Chris thought he saw Theo, but it was just a homeless man with a bad haircut. Over.
Zybala: Alright. Just keep your eyes peeled. Over and out.
~ Zybala clips the walkie talkie back to his side. ~
Welsh: What the hell is going on?! Who was that?!
Zybala: (nonchalantly) Snipers.
Welsh: SNIPERS?!? You say that like its an everyday thing!
Zybala: Meh. When you're me, you get used to this stuff. Look, I already told you too much. I haven't even told Raven or Tony. The less I say, the more plausible deniability you guys have. I gotta make another perimeter check. I'll let you know if I take out an intruder.
~ Zybala leaves before Welsh can reply. Marcus leans back in his chair, groaning in frustration and probably wishing he was back in his coma. We cut back to Smith~
Smith: Alright fans...it’s been an eventful night. But, it’s about to get a lot more…
~Smith pauses. He doesn’t really know what adjective to use to expand on EVENTFUL. So he just kinda stares into the camera for a second before moving on~
Smith: It’s Main Event time! And, who better to sit alongside yours truly to help call this match than former OCW owner...DEAN!
~Our view expands to reveal DEAN seated next to Smith. The crowd goes wild~
Smith: Dean! What’s up?
Dean: Not much, sucka. Ya know I’m just down the road helping Zybala with Outsiders. So when I saw Hood get laid out by that sucka Vaughn, I made my way down here hoping to fill in.
Smith: Glad Welsh signed off on this.
Dean: Yea, turns out he hates those XWF bitches a lot more than he ever hated me. So I’m good to go.
Smith: I hear you’ve got some personal stake in this match.
Dean: Yea, kinda. JC is buddies with Trent Steel and I go WAY back with Trent Steel. Used to smack that chump around years ago. He was a good guy, though. Good people.
Smith: Interesting way of explaining your relationship with Trent Steel. Are you familiar with JC?
Dean: Oh sure...I was a huge fan of OCW and Prez DK. He was one of the last, great promoters from a bygone era. OWF wasn’t the largest fed in the world, but it was one of the most talented. Any champion from OWF has the ability to be a champion anywhere.
Smith: I’ve heard great things about OWF. Now, tonight, JC is the outsider taking on OCW talent Matthew Knox...Knox, who, is under consideration by GM James Raven as the new #1 contender.
Dean: Obviously I’m pulling for Knox here. As all OCW fans should be.
Smith: Indeed. Okay, let’s cut to the parking lot where this match is going to take place.
Dean: Hell yea
~The Parking Lot is full of fans who either couldn’t get in or were too cheap to buy a ticket. Luckily for them, OCW is rewarding their lazy/cheapness by giving them front row seats to a match that could headline any event in any promotion. Tailgating areas are set up everywhere...these fans have been drinking while watching Massacre unfold on tvs set up in each area. Cars are in each area, obviously. These people had to get here somehow. In the distance we see the ‘Alice Knight’ parking section...a bunch of RVs. We’re not sure how long they’ve been parked there. Illumination for this match is brought to us by giant parking lot lights shining down upon the scene. OCW’s #2 referee, GRUFF is standing by...he’s got knee and elbow pads on~
Smith: Yep, things look ready to go.
Dean: We still got those damn RVs in the back? How long those assholes been living back there?
Smith: I couldn’t tell ya.
Dean: Son of a bitch.
Smith: Let’s stay on topic...what are your expectations for this Parking Lot Brawl?
Dean: First off, I wish I’d have booked more of these in my day. Costs basically nothing to host...no thread of anything valuable getting damaged. Great stuff.
Smith: You always knew how to stretch a buck, sir.
Dean: Damn straight.
Smith: Personally, I’m interested to see how the relationship between Matt Knox and JC plays out. In the brief history lesson we were given this week, it seems to me as though JC is almost a mentor to Matt Knox...a wrestler Knox kinda looks up to. JC gave Knox a shot at redemption...a chance to revive his career over a year ago...when no other promotion would touch him.
Dean: Defeating someone you respect that much ain’t easy. Gotta get over the mystique as well as the usual, physical challenges.
Smith: Knox also seems concerned over an incident awhile back when JC took a terrible fall. Knox wasn’t there to help him when JC had aided Knox in his career. It’s something that seems to weigh heavily on his mind.
Dean: Shit, sucka. It sounds like JC’s all up in Knox’s head.
Smith: That might be the case. Meanwhile, JC is eager to push Knox...beat him up...knock some of that hunger back into him. He feels Knox has lost his edge.
Dean: Well, a parking lot brawl against a wrestling legend SHOULD sharped those dull edges. One would think. These two ever faced?
Smith: Indeed they have...in a triple threat match. JC won.
Dean: Damn.
Smith: Amber Ryan was in that match, too.
Dean: Well what do you know...she wrestled here, once upon a time.
Smith: I remember.
Dean: Probably the fiercest female competitor I’ve ever seen.
Smith: Given she’s going toe-to-toe with JC and Matt Knox...it sounds like she’s as fierce as ever. Anyway...it’s that time, sir. Two legends doing battle in the OCW Parking Lot. You ready?
Dean: Bitch, I was born ready.
Smith: TO THE LOT!
~Belvedere’s voice booms outside over some loud speakers...the man himself remains inside~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...it is now time for our Main Event!
~The fans inside the OCW Arena go crazy! The OCWTron fires up with a shot outside. All the fans turn to watch. Outside, the parking lot goers toast their beers and go wild...they’ve been out there all evening...FINALLY, some action~
Belvedere: This match is a parking lot brawl and it is scheduled for one fall!
~One fan yells, “HEY THAT RHYMES!” He gets a beer bottle smashed over his head~
Belvedere: Introducing first…
~We hear fans yelling. Some screaming. A couple of thuds sound out in the distance. Our camera cuts to a wide, aerial view. The fans are violently parted as a giant, menacing figure approaches the space cleared open for the start of this brawl. It doesn’t take long for us to figure out who is making an aggressive approach to the fight area~
Belvedere: From East Rutherford, New Jersey...standing 6’5 and weighing in at 255lbs...he was the final OWF Champion...please welcome...JC!!!
~JC shoves two fans aside and enters the fight area. He’s everything he was advertised to be...big, strong, intimidating. He stands in the man made illumination, which beats down, producing a giant shadow on the concrete parking lot surface. His demeanor is fit for combat...no pomp, no pageantry, simply pure focus as he awaits the presence of his well known adversary~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~We hear a door slam into the side of a building. Our camera cuts. Matt Knox kicks the door open and steps out into the parking lot. The fans part, giving him a clear path to the fight area~
Belvedere: From Baltimore, Maryland...standing 6’6 and weighing in at 244lbs...he is the Pro Wrestling Valor Champion...he is…Matthew ‘The Raven’ Knox!!!
~Knox, sans PWV championship, reaches the fight area~
Smith: No music. No belts. Just two warriors looking to do battle in a brutal element.
Dean: Yea, there ain’t nothing pretty about this, sucka. It’s gonna be a brawl.
Smith: Indeed.
~Knox enters the fight area. JC stands in the center, waiting for Knox to approach him. Knox doesn’t waste time...he heads JC’s way. The fans, at first bursting with excitement, stall. Tension is in the air. Knox faces JC...a few inches separating the two men~
Smith: This rematch has been a long time coming, Dean. Knox is looking to even up the score.
Dean: Well, I’ll give him this. JC might be in his head, but he’s standing up to him like a man.
Smith: Knox’s demons have been well documented...but, lately, he’s been on a clean and narrow path. His vision is 20/20.
Dean: That’s what you say. According to JC, Knox’s vision has been blurred for awhile. But, nothing a couple of stiff punches can’t fix.
~Knox opens his mouth and says some things. We can’t hear or make out what words fly from his mouth. They don’t appear to be antagonistic. Before he can finish his statement, JC blasts him with a forearm shot to the side of the head! The fans pop! JC this him again and again...Knox staggers back. We hear a bell ring over the loud speakers~
Smith: And we’re underway!
Dean: Yea, I don’t think JC wanted to hear anything. He’s here to fight.
Smith: He said he was going to beat some sense into Knox and, well, he’s off to a fast start.
~The Raven is shaken by consecutive forearm shots. He stumbles into the crowd which has circled the fight area. It keeps him from falling to a knee. JC stays after him, Knox reaches out, trying to secure a clench but JC shoves Knox’s arms away and grabs The Raven by the back of the hair...he proceeds to smack him in the head with forearm after forearm after forearm after forearm...Knox is wobbly. JC finishes him off with a headbutt!! Knox drops to one knee before falling to the concrete...the fans standing around cheer. JC stands over Knox, staring down at his familiar foe~
Smith: Nothing pretty about it, JC just went straight after Knox and hit him until he fell.
Dean: Shit, sucka. This guy’s in line for an OCW Title shot? The hell is going on around here!
Smith: Give it time, Dean. The Matt Knox I saw last week in London is more than worthy to challenge for our premiere championship.
~JC bends over and grabs Knox by the hair, pulling the PWV Champion back to his feet. He knows going for a pin at this point would be fruitless. Knox, on his way up, smashes JC in the gut with a right hand. JC stumbles back. Knox, on one knee, delivers a thrust strike into the throat of JC, straightening the former OWF champion up. Knox rises. He reaches for JC, but JC lifts a knee into Knox’s abdomen...he follows that up with a crushing forearm into Knox’s back. Once again, Knox finds himself on one knee with JC standing over him~
Smith: Knox with some life, albeit brief.
Dean: Geezus, these two suckas are huge. Reminds me of the old days.
Smith: Two of the larger men we’ve had come through here recently, that is for sure.
Dean: Good to see!
~JC applies a front face lock, attempting to squeeze all the oxygen out of Knox. Realizing this is far from an ideal situation, Knox powers to his feet and he starts to life JC off the ground. The concrete beneath them serves as a reminder that a fall, any fall, carries great consequence...so JC struggles to get back to his feet...his grip weakens. Knox slips out and twists JC’s arm behind his back. JC quickly reaches behind and whips Knox over with a snapmare! Knox lands on his ass and winces. JC takes a few steps back before charging ahead with a boot to the back of Knox’s skull...but Knox rolls away!! JC staggers forward. He turns around...as he does, he’s tossed over with an arm drag!!! JC’s body hits the concrete HARD!! He arches his back, wincing in pain! The fans cheer the first flesh on concrete impact. Knox gets to one knee, eyeing JC with an increased level of confidence~
Smith: Great sequence there with Matt Knox coming out on top.
Dean: That concrete sucks...it turns something simple like an arm drag into...well, the arm drag of death.
Smith: Everything is heightened in a setting like this.
~JC works to get to his feet...but Knox is already heading his way. JC gets to one knee only to get smacked in the face with a knee lift from The Raven!! JC rises to his feet and staggers into the fans! They part, giving his space, fearful of what might happen if they bump into him. Knox stays after JC, slugging him in the back of the head with a double axe handle. JC stumbles further into the fans, shoving some to the side. Knox stalks. The fans part enough to give JC access into a tailgating area...several people stand around, cheering...solo cups full of beer in their hands. Knox kicks JC in the back...he stumbles into the tailgating area...the cheering stops and the fans scatter. Knox enters and grabs a lawn chair...he folds it up and raises it high over his head. He SMACKS JC in the back with it...JC arches his back and spins around, facing Knox. Knox drills JC in the head with the chair, sending the pro wrestling legend stumbling back...he leans back onto the hood of a pretty nice SUV. One of the tailgaters nervously says, “Hey, guys, that’s a new car. Could you please be careful.” Knox smells something...he spots a woman with a haggard face...he snaps his fingers and opens his hand. She quickly hands over a cigarette and a lighter. Knox quickly lights up a cigarette~
Smith: I don’t think now is the time for a quick smoke.
Dean: Sucka, when you burn em down like Knox does, it’s ALWAYS time for a smoke.
Smith: I guess.
~Knox lights the smoke and takes a drag...JC starts to sit up...Knox reaches forward, looking to put the cigarette out on his head...but JC smacks the cigarette away. He deliver a few quick strikes before reaching under Matt’s arm and tossing him onto the hood of the SUV with a hip toss!!! The fans go wild...aside from the owner of the SUV. He cries out, “MY CAR!” Somebody yells out, “LEASED!” and everyone laughs. JC leans over the hood and pummels Knox in the head, keeping the PWV Champion in place. JC steps onto the front bumper and climbs on the hood...it instantly dents under the weight of both men. The owner rushes forward, but JC kicks his foot out, smacking the guy in the face, sending him tumbling back into the trash can containing their keg. The iced water sloshes around, but the can stays erect. JC pulls Knox up...both men are standing on the hood of the increasingly damaged SUV. He spins Knox around and hooks his waist~
Smith: This looks like an impending German Suplex!
Dean: Ah shit, Knox has been talking about retirement, right?
Smith: He has.
Dean: Well, JC just might be giving him the gift of perpetual boredom earlier than expected.
~JC looks over his shoulder, preparing to toss Knox off of the hood and onto the ground below. Knox throws a few elbows into the side of JC’s head...JC’s grip weakens. Knox breaks JC’s grip and spins around. He hits JC in the head with a forearm...he knees JC in the gut and quickly hooks him for a Double Arm DDT!!! The fans rise. But JC punches Knox in the ribs...he hooks Knox’s arm and lifts him up, tossing him over and to the concrete with a Release Northern Lights Suplex!!! It’s not as technically sound as what you’d normally see, given the fact JC didn’t want to fall on the concrete...so, it’s more of a back body drop...but still...it’s effective! Knox lands HARD on the concrete with a sickening thud...he arches his back, eyes shut, teeth clinched...pain all over his face. JC turns around and hops off the hood of the car~
Smith: Ugh, falls like that shorten a career, no doubt.
Dean: Yea and when a guy’s career is on the tail end of it’s journey to begin with...gotta wonder if that’s the last big fall he’ll take.
Smith: Knox is certainly pushing that veteran body to the limit. Cage matches. Parking lot brawls. That’s a lot to ask a wrestler in their twenties...let alone someone whose spent decades in the ring!
~JC heads for the keg. He rips it out of the trash can and from the slushy water. He stands over Knox who remains on the concrete. JC lifts the keg up and brings it crashing down! But Knox moves!! The bottom of the keg SLAMS into the concrete, jarring JC’s hands and arms. Knox scurries for the trash can. JC turns around...Knox gets to his feet...he grabs the trash can and he slings the freezing iced water inside at JC! It hits him in the face, stunning him...the cold water causing him to gasp out of momentary shock. Knox drops the trash can and pauses for a moment, reaching for his back...we see some scrapes. He pushes through the pain and forward, chopping JC across the chest. JC spins around, clutching his chest in pain. Knox grabs JC from behind and he slams him, face first, into the passenger’s window of the SUV!! The window cracks. Knox takes a few steps back and measures JC up~
Smith: Uh oh...could this be Knox’s big boot?
Dean: You tell me...this is my first time calling this sucka’s match.
Smith: Okay then...I BELIEVE IT IS!
~Knox rushes forward with LITTLE DROP OF POISON. JC sees Knox’s reflection...he drops down...Matt’s foot CRASHES through the Passengers window!! It gets stuck! He hops around on one leg, trying to get free...but he can’t. JC pulls himself up~
Smith: Oh no! Knox is in trouble!
Dean: Wait a second...didn’t he learn that big boot from JC?
Smith: That’s the story.
Dean: Shouldn’t he try a move JC isn’t completely familiar with? I mean, that’s like trying to defeat Thor with his hammer.
Smith: I think it’s Knox trying to show JC up.
Dean: Once again, JC is in that mother fucker’s head.
~Looking at Knox...foot stuck in the window, standing on one leg, JC has an opportunity to do some damage. So, being the successful veteran that he is, he does not let opportunity go to waist. He begins pummeling Knox in the head...The Raven’s black hair flailing around, violently after each blow. It becomes clear Knox would fall to the ground if his leg weren’t suck in the window. JC slings his elbow into the window, shattering it. He yanks Knox’s leg out...holds onto it and takes Knox down with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip!!! The Raven hits the ground, hard. JC pops back up...he pulls Knox to his feet, hooks the impacted leg and tosses him over with a Fisherman Suplex bridged into a pin...Gruff drops in for a count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!!!
Smith: Close one!
Dean: Aw shit, I thought that was hit.
Smith: Nice rhyme, former boss.
Dean: Stitch in time, sucka.
~JC rushes back to his feet. Knox rolls onto all fours, trying to crawl away...his back is beginning to bleed from all the flesh-to-concrete impacts. JC grabs Knox by the hair, yanking him to his feet...he bashes him in the head with a straight right hand...Knox stumbles away from the tailgating area...into one of the giant light poles providing illumination...the base is wide and comprised entirely of metal. Knox hugs it for support. JC snares Knox by the hair from behind...Knox, however, reaches up, grabs JC by the head and drops to his ass with a jawbreaker!!! JC stumbles back, stunned. Knox hurries to his feet...he staggers, slightly...he focuses, grabs JC and slings him into the base of the light pole...JC’s shoulder RAMS into the metal! He falls to the ground, holding his shoulder in pain. The fans standing around, watching the violence wince~
Smith: That might have separated his shoulder!
Dean: Yea, I don’t think that metal pole’s going anywhere. That shoulder had zero hope. RIP
Smith: Indeed
~Knox stomps JC in the chest...he grabs at JC’s left arm, the arm connected to his injured shoulder...he drops down and tries to stretch it out into an armbar! JC fights like hell to keep Knox from extending~
Smith: An armbar! If Knox can get this extended he might rip JC’s shoulder completely out of socket!
Dean: Shit sure has come a long way since my time. All this MMA stuff. I remember when we just punched and slammed each other around.
Smith: This business is always evolving, sir!
~Realizing this could spell the end of the match, JC fights like hell to stave off Knox and his submission attempt. JC rolls over and palms Knox’s head with his free hand and SLAMS the back of his skull into the concrete! Knox’s eyes instantly lose focus...he drops JC’s arm and stares up into the lights...possibly concussed. JC rolls away, holding his left arm...he gets to his knees, clutching his arm and slowly working the joint, testing it’s limitations~
Smith: JC avoiding what would have been a surefire tap or pass out.
Dean: Guy’s a fuckin beast. You talk about him being inside Knox’s head...well rolling out of that armbar and smashing Knox’s brains into the concrete isn’t gonna help matters.
Smith: Nope. Knox has had a hard time gaining and maintaining any kind of momentum in this match.
~Knox sits up. He blinks a few times...he shakes his head. JC gets to his feet...he turns around and snares Knox by the hair, using his right arm...he’s keeping his left arm close to his body. He shoves Knox against the pole and delivers a vicious knife edged chop!!! The crowd ‘woos’. Knox turns and staggers away, holding his chest. JC stalks. The fans scatter and make space as Knox heads towards the RV area. It’s sectioned off by a shitty little white fence. Knox reaches the fence and locates the gate...he struggles with the latch. JC grabs him and spins him around...he throws a right hand, but Knox blocks it with his left arm and slugs JC in the left shoulder with his right. Knox quickly reaches up and locks in a clinch! The fans cheer~