OCW Presents - Block Party
LIVE! Monday, April 29th 2019
From Little Bighorn, Montana

~It is a cold, dark night in the wilderness of Montana. Two men approach a transient campsite. One man looks a lot like Mario Maurako. The other, Silver Cyanide. They enter the campsite.~

Silver Cyanide: Excuse me, gentlemen but may I ask what you’re doing? These are OCW’s lands.

~Maurako remains quiet. Three men around a campfire look up. One features an eye patch. Another sports a scarf. The third has hideous facial hair and no pants. These three men looking very much like Mike Best, Max Kael, and CMF. Best stands~

Mike Best: OCW’s lands, huh? And who rules this ‘OCW’?

Silver Cyanide: Why a dear friend by the name of Paul Paras. I’m sure if you wanted to meet him and explain your intrusion he’d be more than happy to hear you out.

Mike Best: Paul Paras, eh? And you – respect this man?

Silver Cyanide: Yep.

Mike Best: How about you?

~Mario remains silent~

Mike Best: Hmm.

~Cyanide turns to Mario, nudging him~

Silver Cyanide: Mario…

~With a violent thrust, Mario lunges forward and head butts Cyanide to the ground. Best, along with Kael and CMF, stand up and stomp on Cyanide until he’s rendered motionless. Best looks over at Mario and extends his hand. Mario shakes it~

Mike Best: C’mon, Mario…let’s retake these lands and put you in your rightful place.

~Mario nods with conviction. We cut away~

~A tournament is being held in the main encampment of OCW. Paras sits atop his lofty throne, overlooking the participants. A grizzled warrior by the name of Lurrr is preparing to do battle with the enigmatic Stranger who has lingered far beyond anyone’s expectation. Paras, ready to give these two the signal to begin competition, pauses. The gates to their encampment…their fort open up with the abused body of Cyanide carried in. Paras descends from his throne, down into the pit of the arena where the body is carefully laid atop the dirt. Lurrr and The Lost Stranger stand over Cyanide, looking down~

Paul Paras: Where did you find him?

~A man looking like THE KNIFE MAN replies~

The Knife Man: Hanging from a tree, sir.

Paul Paras: Is he?

The Knife Man: He’s alive – barely.

~Paras looks into the sky, fighting back a cavalcade of emotion. The Knife Man, about to speak, is stifled~

Paul Paras: Where is Mario?

The Knife Man: We don’t know, sir.

~Cut away~

~A man looking very much like Mike Zybala stands at the gate to the OCW fort. He’s speaking with a man resembling PerZag~

Mike Zybala: Take these men and find Mario. If you run into any resistant forces, snuff them out.

PerZag: I will smote any who are unworthy.

Mike Zybala: That a boy…we have faith in you, PerZag. Make us proud!

~Cut Away~

~PerZag’s forces are in the midst of battle. They have run into an unexpected foe. A force stronger than they could have imagined. Best and Mario look on as their troops demolish PerZag’s unit. PerZag, bloodied and beaten, falls to one knee. He struggles to hold onto his weapon. Max Kael emerges, looking down upon the OCW legend~

Max Kael: Worthy?

~PerZag tries to rise but is struck down, viciously by the hand of Max Kael. Mike turns to Mario~

Mike Best: Is that the best they got?

~Mario smirks. They turn and spot CMF about to end one of PerZag’s minions~

Mike Best: Wait! Send him back. Let them know we’re coming.

~CMF seems annoyed but does as requested. He slaps the injured minion and kicks him in the ass to get him going. The minion sprints away. Mike turns to Mario~

Mario Maurako: You think that was smart?

Mike Best: I want their best shot.

~We cut away~

~Paras continues to watch the ongoing tournament, with more trepidation than before. He’s clearly consumed with worry over what’s taken place within his OCW kingdom. A horn sounds. Canon and Andrea, doing battle in the pit, pause. Paras orders the tournament to come to a halt as he descends from his throne and hustles to the fort’s entrance. A man looking like TIO steps in, carrying the minion over his shoulder. He drops him to the ground~

Paul Paras: Where’s PerZag?

TIO: He didn’t make it.

Paul Paras: What’s out there?

~The minion reaches up, grabbing Paras by the leg. Paras crouches down. He snaps his fingers, receiving some water. He gives the minion some water for his parched throat, clearing his vocal chords~

Minion: The eMpire is coming.

~Cut away~

~Inside the King’s quarters we spot Paul Paras, Mike Zybala, TIO, Chad Vargas, and Bob Grenier. They are going over strategy to stave off the oncoming force~

Paul Paras: If what we’ve heard is true, this foe will be the greatest force OCW has ever had to deal with. Mike Best, Max Kael, and Cecilworth Farthington carry the reputation of great warriors.

Chad Vargas: Sound like a bunch of [bleep]’s to me! Especially that third one!

Bob Grenier: Fuck em…this is OCW. We’ll gut their asses.

TIO: I’m ready for the challenge.

~Paras admires their fighting spirit. He turns toward Zybala~

Paul Paras: We need help. We can’t fight this battle alone. Call Langston, we need his help.

Mike Zybala: You think that’s a great idea? Didn’t you defeat him to retain the crown?

Paul Paras: This is bigger than the crown. If we lose, there is no crown.

~Zybala nods~

Mike Zybala: Anyone else?

Paul Paras: What about Meyhu?

Mike Zybala: Yea, right. He doesn’t even recognize you as king. He’s off running his own kingdom.

Paul Paras: It’s worth a shot. This is an unwinnable battle without him.

Mike Zybala: For all I know he’s lined up with the eMpire already. He seems to fit, ya know.

Paul Paras: If there were any other way…

Chad Vargas: Listen to Mike, Paul. Meyhu’s a bitch. Try that Petrova lady.

~A visibly drunk Mack O’Connor stumbles in, carrying a chalice overflowing with wine~

Mack O’Connor: Fuck that…didn’t you hear? She’s fucking the leader of the eMpire.

Paul Paras: Kitty’s turned?

Mack O’Connor: Yep

~Mack takes another sip~

Paul Paras: So it has to be Meyhu.

Mack O’Connor: Ah fuck you guys. I’ll go talk to him if you’re all too afraid. Fucking hell. Fuck.

~The aging O’Connor limps away. Paras leans over a table situated in the middle of all the OCW legends. His eyes focused intently on nothing in particular~

Paul Paras: Let’s hope Meyhu and Langston answer the call.

~We cut away~

~Ehud is peeling potatoes. It’s one of the few tasks he can perform at a decent speed. Bifford is boiling the potatoes and eating them as quickly as they are cooked. Hayley Robinson, dressed for battle walks by, giving Biff a nasty look. Behind her walks Ed Houston, also preparing for battle. He stops~

Ed Houston: Biff! Stop eating all the food and get ready to fight!

~Biff puts on his MAGICAL FLEECE and grabs his MIGHTY SCYTHE, showing that he’s prepared for war at any moment. Paras walks along the top of the fort’s walls. He’s anxious, nervous. Help has yet to arrive~

Voice: Someone’s coming!

~Paras hurries to the edge the wall, looking over. It’s LANGSTON. The Langston army marches toward OCW’s main entrance~

Paul Paras: Open the gate!

~The gates open, allowing Langston and his men entry. Langston dismounts from his horse with a chain in hand. He looks at Paras. A moment of tension passes before both men bump fists, displaying their temporary unity~

Paul Paras: Your loyalty will not be forgotten.

~We cut away~

~It’s late at night within Fort OCW. A man named Smith sits in front of a fire. Several recognizable faces join him. The Dravers, Bester, Aubrey Baxter, and many others. Smith has been telling stories all night, trying to strengthen the resolve of OCW’s members~

Smith: This is nothing new. We’ve been attacked before. There was the MoB many years ago, thwarted by King Murray. All throughout history OCW has been attacked by outside forces only to prevail.

Nathan Dravers: Is that why Langston has joined the cause? He knows victory is assured?

Smith: That and…in times of war, the crown has been known to switch hands. Langston could very well emerge from all of this as our new king, something we’re all aware he desires.

~Everyone nods as we zoom into the flames, cutting away~

~It’s a stormy morning. Dark clouds cover the horizon. Paras and his army are prepared. Paras stands atop the fort’s walls, staring out over the land for as far as his vision will allow. Beside him resides Langston~

Vincent Langston: Looks like he didn’t show.

Paul Paras: There’s still time.

~Paras remains hopeful~

Vincent Langston: You sure the attack will come head on?

~Langston nods toward a forest in the distance~

Paul Paras: Yep, that’s Mike Best. Reputation has it he marches at his target head on… looking to take their best shot.

~Langston nods, gripping his chain. A disturbance takes place behind Fort OCW. Paras and Langston turn around, fearful~

Paul Paras: What’s going on?

Voice: Someone is approaching from behind!

~Langston looks at Paras, angry over their miscalculation. Paras remains firm in his conviction. They hustle around the edge of the fort. They reach a point where they can view what’s coming from behind~

Voice: LIME GREEN BANNERS, SIR!

~Paras looks to Langston~

Paul Paras: It’s Meyhu.

Vincent Langston: He answered the call.

~The back gate, much smaller than the front, is opened as Meyhu and Mack ride in. Mack appears slightly more sober than before. Paras and Langston greet them~

Paul Paras: Thanks for coming, Meyhu.

~Meyhu dismounts. Mack does the same, but he nearly falls over, cursing and taking a swig of wine from a bag~

Matt Meyhu: I had nothing better to do.

~Meyhu walks past Paras, toward the front of Fort OCW~

Matt Meyhu: Besides, I’ve always wanted to beat the shit out of Mike Best.

~Meyhu continues marching. The three leaders walk past a bunch of onlookers. Meyhu pauses, noticing Evin Empire~

Matt Meyhu: Who’s this?

Paul Paras: One of our best warriors.

~Meyhu looks him up and down~

Matt Meyhu: You stick next to me, kid.

~Meyhu continues walking. Langston and Paras share an annoyed look. But, hey, they need his help so they roll with it. They ascend the wall of the castle, looking back out over the fields and undulating terrain. The trees appear to move~

Matt Meyhu: Those trees alive?

Paul Paras: No. Well, yes, but not in the way that you mean.

Vincent Langston: They’re coming.

~We cut away~

~It’s dark. A man sits, cross legged in the center of an important room. Candles are lit, providing the only form of illumination. Thunder roars outside as a storm approaches. The light flickers at a certain angle revealing the man in the middle to be none other than the king himself, Paul Paras. He’s meditating on certain events – past, present, and future. Staring down upon him are portraits of past OCW kings, ghosts that haunt this great, fabled land. Most notably we recognize Scorpion, Silverfreak, El Linchador and, yes, a naked Scott Syren. Paras, eyes shut, breathes in rhythm with nature. A flap to the tent opens. Paras does not flinch. Zybala pokes his head in~

Mike Zybala: King Paras, it’s time. They approach.

~Paras nods and exhales. He stands and moves to exit. A sound catches his attention. He turns and finds water leaking through a hole in the Syren portrait – right where the end of his penis is featured. Paras shakes his head as if to say “Predictable.” He exits~

Paul Paras: Is everyone ready?

Mike Zybala: Yep.

Paul Paras: What about Welsh?

Mike Zybala: He’s in the opium den with Greg, Jason Kortare and all of Kortare’s friends. I dare not enter.

Paul Paras: Smart move, leave him where he is…he’s of no use to us out there anyway.

~We cut away~

~Paras and OCW’s forces are lined up outside the fort’s walls~

Paul Paras: We meet them head on!

~Paras sports his OCW crown. Langston sports his Savage Crown. Meyhu saddles up sporting a lime sash. He looks at Paul’s crown~

Matt Meyhu: Just so we’re clear…when this is over I get my shot to win the crown back, right?

~Paul nods. Meyhu turns and sees Bester with a cat in his hands. Meyhu flashes a what the fuck look and turns his focus back ahead. Drums begin to beat. The eMpire emerges from the forest, heading their way~

Paul Paras: And there’s Mario

Vincent Langston: Thought he was your friend.

Paul Paras: As did I.

~Paras slowly raises his weapon. Atop the fortress we spot Alice Knight. She’s holding THE DUCK. We cut back to Paul, who’s about to give the command~

Paul Paras: Alright, on my mark we charge. One…two…

~Time stops for a brief moment. The breath of each OCW warrior becomes audible. Time picks back up as Paras yells~

Paul Paras: CHARGE!

~Paras and the rest of OCW’s warriors take off. The eMpire, not to be out done, pick up their pace, heading straight toward OCW. They draw closer, closer, and closer. The adversarial entities are feet apart when the frame freezes. The BLOCK PARTY logo flashes toward the screen, consuming our entire view. It dissipates into a video for tonight’s show~

~The video ends and we cut to the LIVE scene at Little BigHorn Montana!!! The fans go wild!! We see a ‘fair’ type set up outside of a giant, wooden FORT. It’s got the name “FORT OCW” carved into the side. Outside the fort, fans walk around playing games, drinking and eating…televisions are set up everywhere displaying the in-ring action. We float over the wall of FORT OCW getting our first view inside. There’s a giant, dirt floored pit with the OCW ring in the center. Giant wooden walls form a circle around the ring. Two huge, wooden doors are at the entrance of the Fort which lead into a walk way cut into the wooden circle for wrestlers to enter into the Fort and make their way to the ring. Fans are seated in the near whole circle. Thousands of people occupy wooden rows as they all look down over their wooden walls into the pit! People are chanting “OCW!” The Montana sky is clear and blue…the temperature is agreeable. It seems as though we are ready to go! We find Smith and Hood! They are located behind the last row of fans, seated at a wooden table with all the modern electronics necessary to view and commentate on the action~

Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to BLOCK PARTY!!

Hood: We made it, Smith! We fucking made it!

Smith: Yes, we are out here in Little BigHorn for tonight’s highly anticipated event! I don’t think it’s hyperbole to say that tonight might be the biggest show in company history!

Hood: You can hyperventilate all you want, Smith! But tonight’s show is going to be off Vincent Langston’s chain! We’ve got the eMpire fighting as a unit for the OCW Championship! We’ve got the Block Party tournament and, we get to watch Vargas and Grenier murder…whatever the hell Team ATARI is.

Smith: That’s one way to look at it, sure. Paul Paras has been invincible since returning to OCW back in December. Tonight he faces his greatest threat as five of the best wrestlers on the planet fight to take his OCW Championship.

Hood: Marcus Welsh had power for a month and look what he’s brought us…the man is a miracle worker!

Smith: Speaking of Welsh…Mr. Welsh could become our permanent GM once again if Mario Maurako defeats Mike Zybala later this evening.

Hood: Fingers crossed!

Smith: Folks, we’ve got so much action ahead of us that talking would simply waste valuable time. So, let’s head down to ringside for our opening match of the evening as two veterans renew a rivalry in an effort to advance to the Block Party semifinals!

Scorpion Bracket Final
(2) Lurrr (3-1) vs. (4) The Lost Stranger (11-4)

~And it appears as though we’re set to begin! These fans within Fort OCW are piqued! They are probably torqued. And, yes, they are most likely hard. Female nipples are erect, because we are equal opportunity here in OCW. Belvedere stands in the ring~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Block Party!!!

~The crowd goes WILD! Babies are conceived, bald spots experience regrowth, and Democrats hug republicans. OCW breathing life to what was once thought dead and barren~

Belvedere: The opening match is the final match in the Scorpion Bracket, and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…

~The Friday the 13th Theme begins to play. The fans give a stronger than usual reaction for The Lost Stranger. It’s a mixture of Lurrr being a total dickbag heel AND this being the opening match of the show. Two giant, wooden doors are pulled open revealing THE LOST STRANGER. His Rorschach mask is sported along with a hat and black coat. His movements are systematic. They are planned. The man is calculating if nothing else. He reaches the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope. The fans who are cheering quietly down…is this REALLY the kind of guy they want to be cheering?~

Belvedere: From Parts Unknown, standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Ascension Champion…he is The Lost Stranger!!!

Smith: The Lost Stranger, everyone.

Hood: That mask looks fatter than usual. Do you think his head is growing?

Smith: I wouldn’t dare speculate.

Hood: A few wins and the guy’s ego swells. Unbelievable!

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

GUESS WHO’S BACK

Smith: And the legend is back in PPV singles competition!

Hood: He’s been playing the underdog role for the first time in his OCW career. I think Lurrr likes it.

Smith: Well, to a point. We all know the man’s ego is second to none.

I used to be broke, confused..no joke
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now there's 10 million motherfuckers on my dick

~The two wooden doors are pulled apart revealing LURRR. He’s got his cowboy hat on. He’s shirtless, sporting a pair of jeans and cowboy boots. He’s alone. He’s been alone throughout the Block Party Tournament. Why switch it up now? Lurrr hustles down to the ring, rolling in under the bottom rope and popping to his feet~

Belvedere: From Houston, Texas…he is a three-time OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is the original ICON of OCW…he is Lurrr!!!

Smith: Lurrr looking to walk away the new #1 Contender!

Hood: If he did that he’d be in line for his FOURTH OCW Championship.

Smith: That’s a feat I don’t think anybody would rival.

~Lurrr’s Hall of Fame title is around his waist. He removes it, handing it over to Belvedere. Belvedere exits the ring. TLS begins to remove his coat and hat. Lurrr smirks, watching the very strange TLS. He calmly removes his cowboy hat, tossing it out of the ring as though it cost nothing. He begins to limber up. The bell sounds~

Smith: Alright! These two are ready to go!

Hood: They waged many wars in GCWA. Lurrr won most of those wars.

Smith: Yep, as good as TLS has been throughout his career he’s always struggled with the upper echelon talent.

Hood: Yea but when TLS gets hot he can beat anyone.

~The crowd pops! TLS and Lurrr approach one another. Lurrr, as usual, hurls a bunch of insults Stranger’s way. Stranger, as usual, doesn’t really react. Lurrr begins to gesticulate. His insults are grandiose in cadence and definition. TLS has heard it all before. Lurrr starts to poke TLS in the chest. This seems to bother TLS, slightly. Invading his personal strange space. TLS finally gives Lurrr a shove. Lurrr cracks a half smile, shaking his head, looking at the mat like ‘that bitch’. He returns the shove!! TLS stumbles backward then moves ahead with a second shove! The crowd is leaning forward; they can sense shit is coming. Lurrr says ‘fuck this shoving’ and delivers a right hand!! TLS responds with a right hand of his own! The two men suddenly break out in a brawl! The fans go wild~

Smith: And here we go! A brawl has broken out in the center of the ring! TLS and Lurrr are throwing fists!

Hood: Don’t you just love it when longtime rivals get in the ring? They don’t fuck around with flips and shit…they just go to war.

Smith: Indeed

~Lurrr wins the brawl, initially, sending TLS reeling back into a corner. TLS fires back! He lands a crushing right hand that staggers Lurrr. TLS doesn’t hesitate. He hits another and another and another! Lurrr is the one reeling now! TLS walks Lurrr across the entre ring, into the opposite corner with right hands! The crowd is cheering. TLS throws a haymaker, Lurrr bocks it! And now Lurrr retaliates, nailing TLS with right hands that send the strange one stumbling into the center of the ring. Once in the center of the ring, TLS stabilizes and throws a right hand of his own. Lurrr responds…and the two begin trading right hands once again to the delight of the fans~

Smith: This is an old fashioned brawl, Hood. Neither man is backing down!

Hood: Lurrr’s renewing a career, looking to once again reach the zenith of OCW. TLS, on the other hand, is looking to reclaim a type of glory he hasn’t enjoyed in nearly a decade.

Smith: Indeed, tonight is a big night for both men. These two veterans know what it means to seize opportunity…they won’t let it pass them by.

~Both men begin to fatigue. The punches are taking their toll. TLS fires off a right hand, which rocks Lurrr. Lurrr responds, rocking TLS with a right hand of his own. The crowd ‘boos’ the Lurrr punches while they ‘yay’ the TLS punches. It’s weird that they’ve chosen TLS as the horse they want to back…but, hey, that’s OCW for ya. TLS responds with a right hand. Lurrr is rocked! TLS throws another right hand…Lurrr blocks it! Lurrr throws a right hand of his own, rocking TLS! Lurrr lunges forward with a huge right hand. TLS ducks! Lurrr stumbles forward. He turns around and eats a right hand by TLS which sends Lurrr stumbling into a corner. TLS marches forward and his arms become an assault rifle…lefts and rights unleashing like crazy into Lurrr’s midsection. He caps the barrage off with a huge uppercut that sends Lurrr’s legs flying in the air!! Once they return to the mat, he stumbles forward, spins around and falls down. The fans go wild~

Smith: And The Lost Stranger has won the war of fists with Lurrr!

Hood: Great, he can go and write a new rocky movie script. But that doesn’t earn him SHIT in this match.

Smith: True, he still needs to defeat Lurrr if he wants to advance.

~TLS doubles over, shaking his masked head. He’s not without injury, either. He straightens up, realizing he’s got to stay on top of Lurrr. Too late. Lurrr is already returning to his feet. TLS grabs Lurrr by the head and shoves him into the ropes. Lurrr bounces off and nails TLS with a right hand!! TLS staggers back, into the ropes, nearly falling through them. Lurrr drills TLS with another right hand! Again, TLS teeters on the tipping brink. Lurrr finally delivers a clothesline which sends TLS over the top rope! He lands on his feet, atop the apron. Lurrr instinctively goes for THE WAKE-UP CALL!! TLS hops off the apron, forcing Lurrr to withhold the kick. TLS takes a break, walking around the ring, gathering hi wits~

Smith: Lurrr mounting a comeback. TLS is forced to take an unofficial timeout.

Hood: If he’s running out of breath I’d say it has to do with that mask. Take that fucking thing off! I don’t even see a hole for the mouth, Smith!

Smith: It does look rather restrictive.

Hood: Who the fuck goes into a wrestling match wearing a mask with no mouth…WHO DOES THAT

~Lurrr looks down at TLS with disgust. He grabs the ropes and propels his body over the top rope, down at TLS. TLS looks up and catches Lurrr!! Lurrr hooks Stranger’s head, attempting to turn this back in his favor with a DDT. TLS holds on, points his back to the ring, tosses Lurrr up and drops Lurrr face first into the apron with Snake Eyes!!! Lurrr staggers back, falling into the dirt. TLS moseys on over to Lurrr, casting a shadow over the fallen OCW icon~

Smith: Tremendous strength shown there by TLS!

Hood: That’s called masked rage!

Smith: What?

Hood: When a man wearing a mask becomes self-aware. They go into a rage. WHY AM I WEARING A FUCKING MASK?!

~TLS snares Lurrr by the neck, ripping him off the dirt and to his feet. He drags Lurrr near the ring. Scruff yells out “ONE!” TLS kicks Lurrr in the gut as they reach the ring’s edge. He hooks Lurrr for a powerbomb. He aims Lurrr right at the apron. Lurrr rakes TLS across the eyes!! Lurrr bends back and tosses TLS forward with a LURRRicanrana!!! TLS lunges forward, banging his forehead into the edge of the apron!! He falls to the ground, holding his head in pain~

Smith: Oh my gosh!! TLS might have a concussion!

Hood: Fucking Lurrr turning back the clock like Marty McFly!

Smith: This isn’t Throwback, Hood.

Hood: We’re always throwing it back when Lurrr and his super cool cowboy hat make an appearance!

~Lurrr leans against the apron, holding his jaw from the earlier impact of Snake Eyes. He grimaces and scowls, turning his focus back to TLS. TLS is on his knees, face down in the dirt. Lurrr reaches down, grabbing TLS by the back of his mask, yanking the former Ascension Champion to his feet. There’s no blood…that mask must be really thick to absorb such a blow. Lurrr leans in with a head butt! It doesn’t do much, so he quickly follows up with a knife edged chop! TLS leans against the ring post. Lurrr reaches up and says “I fucking hate masks!” He rips the mask away from Stranger’s face. He steps back, stunned. The rest of the crowd is also taken by surprise~

Smith: Hood, look!

Hood: Geezus…ANOTHER MASK?

Smith: It’s the Phantasmo mask!! TLS wore that in GCWA during one of his many feuds with Lurrr!

Hood: This guy trying to lose a double chin or something? Why so many fucking layers around his face?

Smith: Head games, Hood!

Hood: LITERALLY

~It’s clear Lurrr is having flashbacks upon seeing the Phantasmo mask. He hesitates. He fights through his initial shock, trying to eliminate prolonged hesitation. He throws a fist at the Phantasmo masked TLS. TLS ducks!! Lurrr’s fist PINGS against the ring post! He lets out a very loud “FUCK!!!” He grabs his right fist and walks away, in obvious pain. And, oh yea, Scruff yells out “SEVEN!”~

Smith: Lurrr may have broken his hand!

Hood: Bad news if you’re looking to wrestle three times tonight.

Smith: Indeed…plus, the count is up to seven! If both these men get counted out, then the winner of Canon/Andrea will move straight to the finals!

Hood: That would lighten the workload some.

Smith: No way! We want as many matches as possible!

~Scruff yells out “EIGHT!” TLS dives into the ring. His Phantasmo mask looks very phantomy. Lurrr looks back at the ring, holding his right hand. Scruff yells out ‘NINE!’ Lurrr again, yells “FUCK!” He darts forward, diving into the ring just before ten. The fans clap. TLS rushes over, stomping on Lurrr before he can get to his feet. The bellicose Lurrr fights through the stomps, to his feet. He claws at Stranger’s face with his left hand. The mask prevents much of the damage. TLS lifts a knee into Lurrr’s gut and follows that up with a knee lift to Lurrr’s face. Lurrr spins around, staggering away. TLS charges forward, leaping up and dropping Lurrr with a bulldog!! Lurrr lands face first on the mat~

Smith: Great combination there by TLS. It’s clear he knows what he’s up against.

Hood: Yea, Lurrr is fighting as hard as he can…but his hand is fucked and well, he’s not as young as he used to be.

Smith: Nope, the aging veteran is likely dealing with unfamiliar obstacles.

~T-El-Phantasmo pops back to his feet. He stomps on Lurrr, taking full control of the contest. Lurrr, again, shows belligerence as he begins to sit up. TLS seems surprised. He throws a stiff soccer kick into Lurrr’s ribs. Lurrr grimaces and grunts…but he continues to rise. He gets to his knees and grasps at the Stranger’s abdomen. TLS takes a step back and delivers a knee strike. Lurrr ducks and rolls TLS up!! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: The crafty icon Lurrr nearly stole this one from TLS!

Hood: It’s that Phantasmo mask, Smith! It’s bringing TLS bad luck…didn’t he lose, like, a lot to Lurrr in GCWA?

Smith: I don’t have the official records in front of me, Hood.

~TLS returns to his feet, quickly. Lurrr is a bit slower. TLS charges at Lurrr, taking him down with a swinging neck breaker!! Lurrr hits hard. TLS pops back to his feet, and he spots Lurrr’s hand…he stomps on it!! Lurrr yells out in pain, reaching for his hand…attempting to protect it. TLS grabs Lurrr by the ear, yanking him to his feet. He spins Lurrr around and decks him across the face with a right hand. Lurrr stumbles into the ropes. TLS shoots Lurrr off the ropes…before Lurrr can take off, TLS lifts a knee into Lurrr’s gut! Lurrr flips forward, hitting the match, clutching his midsection~

Smith: And TLS has turned it up! This Phantasmo TLS is looking PHANTASTIC!

Hood: WEAK ASS…by the way, you think that mask smells like shit?

Smith: From what I heard via Jason Chase…that mask wasn’t with them on the manure truck.

Hood: Okay…I was going to say that TLS had sunk to new lows…good to know the man draws the line at covering his face with a shit stained mask.

~Lurrr sits up, pain is scribbled all over his face. TLS jams his knee into Lurrr’s back…he takes a knee and yanks on Lurrr’s chin, contorting Lurrr’s upper torso in an uncomfortable manner. Lurrr winces, not liking the position. He takes his ‘good’ hand and reaches around, trying to find something he can hold onto to hopfully break up the hold. He snares the Phantasmo mask and yanks forward, ripping it off!! TLS rises to his feet, covering his face!! The fans gasp! Lurrr looks at the mask in his hands and tosses it out of the ring. He returns to his feet and marches over at TLS. He stops upon noticing TLS covering his bare face~

Smith: Nice to see Lurrr has some respect for the man’s identity.

Hood: Lurrr doesn’t have respect for shit!

Smith: I bet to differ…look at him right now, he clearly respects Stranger’s desire to keep his face a sec –

~As if on cue, Lurrr yanks TLS’ hands away, revealing his FACE! It’s…it’s…it’s…his normal joker face.~

Smith: Hm

Hood: Kind of a letdown.

~Lurrr puts his hands on his hips as if to say, “Really?” TLS juts his hand out, thumbing Lurrr in the eye!!! Lurrr spins around, stunned! TLS rolls him up in the center!! Scruff slides in, making the count~

1!

2!

3..NO!

Smith: Lurrr survived The Stranger’s finisher!

Hood: That’s his fucking finisher?

Smith: Yes, he calls it Stranger Danger.

Hood: Well, I guess the name kinda fits. Another name could be ‘Whoop there it is’!

Smith: Stop it.

~Lurrr pops to his feet with a nervous look in his eyes. He realizes how close he was to losing his shot at returning to the top of OCW. TLS remains focused. He pops to his feet and thrusts his hair back, giving us a full look at his joker face pain. He throws a huge right hand…Lurrr tries to block it, but his injured right hand can’t withstand the force…TLS smacks Lurrr in the head. Lurrr falls into the corner. TLS runs forward and squashes Lurrr with a huge splash~

Smith: TLS is on a roll!

Hood: Old man disease is impacting Lurrr.

Smith: You mean aging?

Hood: Oh, so it has a name?

Smith: Uh, yes

~TLS backs away, inviting a stumbling Lurrr into his venomous grasp. Lurrr stumbles forward, and TLS spins around, dropping Lurrr with a spinning bodyslam!! TLS pops up…Lurrr is down, looking older than ever. The fans start to get behind THE STRANGER. He reaches forward and begins choking Lurrr! The cheers dissipate…he releases Lurrr. The fans go back to cheering and chanting for TLS. TLS chokes Lurrr some more. The cheers and chants die out…he releases! The cheers and chants resume…this goes on for awhile~

Smith: What is he doing?

Hood: Controlling the fans.

Smith: But…why?

Hood: I don’t know…you’d have to ask him.

~It feels as though TLS is going to do this all night…until Lurrr reaches up and rakes him across the face with his good hand. Scruff lets it go, given what’s been going down. TLS returns to his feet, covering his painted face. Lurrr ascends to his and marches toward TLS. He clobbers TLS across the back with a heavy forearm. TLS arches his back in pain. Lurrr wants to punch him in the back of the head, but decides against it…his hand is hurt too badly. So, he spins TLS around and boots him in the gut. TLS stumbles into a corner. Lurrr coils and throws THE WAKE UP CALL at TLS. But, TLS ducks!! Lurrr’s right leg heads directly for the top buckle…he manages to lift it up at the last second, avoiding an impact that would most certainly jam his knee. TLS runs up from behind, grabs Lurrr and drops him with an Inverted DDT!!! Lurrr is down! The fans sense something big coming…TLS rolls onto the apron~

Smith: What’s he got in mind?

Hood: Souled Out?

Smith: Hey! How did you remember that move?

Hood: Seriously? The fucking guy has been wrestling her for DECADES

~TLS pops to his feet…Lurrr remains on his back. TLS jumps up and springboards off the top rope, somersaulting through the air, looking for a guillotine leg drop. Lurrr moves!!! TLS hits hard!! Lurrr kips up!! The crowd pops for the old man performing a young man’s move. TLS struggles to his feet, limping. Lurrr throws THE WAKE UP CALL!!! TLS ducks and rolls Lurrr up!!! Lurrr manages to roll through and pop back to his feet. So does TLS, but slower…TLS gets to his feet and gets hit with THE WAKE UP CALL!!! He falls to the mat…Lurrr makes the cover, Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is the winner of the Scorpion Bracket…LURRR!!!!!

Smith: Lurrr did it! He avoided Souled Out and a second Stranger Danger before hitting The Wake Up Call!

Hood: Shit, man, turning back the clock tonight!

Smith: Indeed! Lurrr is looking to earn a shot to claim his FOURTH OCW Title…he’s two wins away from doing just that.

Hood: I think TLS thought this was his night…but, sadly, it was not meant to be.

Smith: TLS threw everything he could at Lurrr…but there’s a reason why Lurrr is the original icon of OCW. Great win for Lurrr…great performance by The Lost Stranger!

~The feed fades to black and is replaced by a previously recorded video package that sees OCW's roving correspondent, Who're, standing in front of the Little Big Horn casino on the Crow reservation, mere miles from the location of OCW's Block Party pay-per-view. Standing beside her, dressed in a casual black suit and dark shades, is "The Lady Killer" Evin Empire, and surrounding both of them is a growing group of fans in town for the weekend's festivities. The crowd quiets down as Who're turns to the camera and raises the microphone to her lips~

Who're: Ladies and gentlemen, I'm standing here outside of the Little Big Horn casino with one of the biggest stars on the OCW roster WITHOUT a match at Block Party, the number one contender for the OCW Craze Championship, Evin Empire. Evin, it's good to see you made the trip out to-"

Evin: Yeah yeah, well after stepping OUT of my jet and INTO a big steaming pile of bull crap, I immediately started to second guess the decision...I swear, creative really screwed the pooch on this one...but seeing as how I'm about to go inside and put this little wigwam out of business, I'm not even going to sweat it. I only hope I can get out of this miserable state before the smell sticks to my clothes...

Who're: Ugh, you read my mind, babe, you READ MY MIND. Now, speaking of smells, OCW has set up their very own version of Dodge City to keep fans busy throughout the weekend, including carnival games, concessions, and even a petting zoo. There are several OCW superstars mingling around signing autographs...I know you aren't booked for a match, but are you sure Mr. Welsh wouldn't rather you be there interacting with the OCW universe instead of here gambling at a casino?

~ Evin takes a step back and looks Who're up and down, his upper lip slightly snarled. ~

Evin: Who are you, the hall monitor? Do I look like James fucking Arness to you!? Look at me...look at my clothes...do I look like I belong in some old dustfart shanty town surrounded by a bunch of flea-bitten mongrels?! Not to mention the petting zoo. No, "Eazy E" knows his place, and his place is where the drinks, the money, and the indoor plumbing are. Besides, if there are any fans who want MY autograph...who are truly WORTHY of having my autograph...then they would be HERE instead of THERE in the first place, so it works out perfectly. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a seat at the blackjack table just screaming my name...

~ Empire turns to walk away but stops dead in his tracks, turning back to Who're and whipping off his shades. ~

Evin: Oh...and I may not have a MATCH at Block Party...but that doesn't mean that I won't be having an IMPACT on Block Party. Don't be surprised if this isn't the last time tonight you hear the name of Evin Empire. See ya at the show...Who're..

~ With that, Evin turns and makes his way toward the entrance of the casino, followed closely by the mob of fans.~

Smith: Evin Empire may not have a match tonight but he's going to be a major player moving forward.

Hood: I like the kid's attitude. I just hope he's a blackjack player and doesn't waste his time on those goofy ass slot machines.

Smith: Oh I just love it when they light up! They're so fun!

Hood: See what I mean? Don't be like this guy, Evin!

Smith: It does sound like Evin plans to make an impact tonight...how and when that happens is yet to be determined.

~We cut to footage from earlier in the day. We’re in the ‘wrestler’ area of the OCW setup. Who'Re walks around various tents and trailers, looking for someone to interview. She then spots Marcus Welsh just coming out of his custom trailer. She walks up to him, calling his name~

Who'Re: Mr. Welsh! A minute of your time please!

~Welsh looks at her and sighs, but seems inclined to give her that minute~

Welsh: What can I do for you Ms. 'Re?

Who'Re: Well, what are your thoughts on Mr. Zybala facing Mario later tonight? Are you and Jason facebook official? What does that mean for Greg? Are you guys in an open relationship? Are you not official with anyone because you fear commitment? Who do you want to win the Process of Elimination Match?

~Welsh backs up a step and holds his hands up~

Welsh: Woah! Easy! I thought you had like a question or two. I wasn't expecting some sort of wrestling inquisition!

~Who'Re is about to reply but she then stares behind Welsh, who is looking behind her, equally confused. Zybala is behind Who"Re wearing red Cardinal robes and is about to say something when he sees what Who'Re sees; Matt Meyhu behind Welsh, wearing the same thing, except for the robe being red, it is lime green. They look at each other, give a nod and cry out~

Meyhu & Zybala: NOBODY EXPECTS THE WRESTLING INQUISITION!

~The two nod again and walk away leaving everyone confused~

Smith: I…don’t know what that means.

Hood: This is why we need Welsh in charge! C’mon, Mario!

Smith: Mario and Mike Zybala do battle later this evening. However, next up is our second quarterfinal match of the evening as Andrea Hernandez looks to knock off another legend…this time in the form of Curt Canon!

El Linchador Bracket Final
(3) Andrea Hernandez (11-3) vs. (4) Curt Canon (17-7-1)

~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea Hernandez bursts straight out of the curtains, drawing everybody onto their feet.~

Belvedere: "The following contest, scheduled for one fall, is a Quarterfinal match in the Block Party Tournament!"

Smith: Oh, yes! You have to love that entrance, and the reaction Andrea gets every night!

Hood: The entrance maybe. The kind of attention she gets, not so much. What's she done to deserve it?

Belvedere: "Introducing first, from Sedona, Arizona...weighing in at 125 pounds, the OCW Craze Champion, Andrea Hernandez!"

Hood: Cool, she's got the big yellow belt.

Smith: She also held the big blue belt at one point.

~Andrea marches down the ramp, holding her Craze championship high into the air. She leaps onto the ring apron, so fired up she is not even grabbing the top rope as usual. The fans are just as fired up as her, many of them showing support by holding up everything from signs, T-shirts, to even some of the stuffed ducks seen on the merchandise section of the OCW website!~

Hood: Well, when she wins that big black and red one Paul Paras is holding, let's talk.

Smith: She might do that, Hood! Three matches left and she'll have earned her shot!

~Andrea jumps up onto the closest set of turnbuckles, pointing to the Craze championship. She thanks the fans for their high-decibel support by pointing to her heart and then the crowd, jumping down into the ring to allow Scruffy to hold onto her title. ~

Hood: And after Mike Best wins that belt tonight, he'll crush her hopes and dreams!

Smith: You really think eMpire is going to be able to beat Langston, Meyhu AND Paras?

Hood: They did at Social Justice!

~The opening beats of "Figure 8 by Trust Company" begin to play.~

Smith: And here comes the most active retired man in the game!

Hood: He even sucks at being retired!

~Curt Canon stands atop the ramp briefly, receiving just as much of a reaction as his opponent. Curt stops for a second, hands on his hips, looking around for just a brief moment.

Belvedere: "And her opponent, from Philadelphia Pennsylvania..."

~Canon starts coming down towards the ring, slapping some hands on the way down.~

Belvedere: "Weighing in at 155 pounds, Curt Canon!!!"

Smith: He better be careful, Hood, he might get used to being un-retired!

Hood: Or he might shut Andrea up finally. His call.

~Canon slides into the ring, quickly hopping to his feet. He poses in the center of the ring, arms out wide, as his blue pyro shoots from each ringpost.~

Hood: How the hell do we have pyro in a wooden arena?

Smith: The same way we do anywhere else. We brought it with us.

Hood: Dude...never mind. Just...never mind.

~Curt grabs onto the top rope and squats a couple of times, while Andrea leans back a couple of tipes against the same rope but in her own corner.~

Smith: Here we go, set to start off this quarter-final matchup...

Hood: Look at all these god damn ducks!

~No less than three-quarters of the crowd are waving plush ducks in the air over their heads.~

Hood: Why the hell did we even sell those things?

Smith: Come on, these people are clearly having fun!

Hood: I'm glad they are! Jesus Christ, someone just hit me with one of them!

~One of the plush duck finds it way into the ring, after being thrown from the crowd. Andrea Hernandez is barely able to contain herself from laughing, trying desperately to keep her focus on Curt Canon.~

Smith: Andrea's got the duck, Hood! She's got the duck!

Hood: EAT IT! EAT IT!

Smith: She's not gonna eat it, dude!

~After picking the duck up, Andrea looks down at the stuffed animal, then back up at Curt. While looking directly into his eyes, Andrea holds the duck above her head, and the crowd...~

Crowd: QUACK!

~Curt, looking a little annoyed, says something along the lines of "fine, give me the damn duck". Andrea is bursting at the seams wanting to break down in a fit of laughter, but is doing a remarkable job of holding it together. Someone tosses Curt a plush duck...~

Hood: God, Curt, don't lower yourself to this...

~Curt holds the duck high above his head.~

Curt: DUCK IT!

Crowd: QUACK!

Smith: I believe that can be considered a pre-match handshake, a show of respect here between two fan favorites in OCW.

Hood: It's a bunch of people in the Badlands dressed like cowboys waving around plush ducks! How does any of this say 'respect' to you?

Smith: Andrea and Curt have both shown a mututal respect for the other this week, Hood. You know that!

Hood: I know, I know.

~The ring is cleared of all foreign objects, and indeed Andrea and Curt do shake hands prior to the start of the match, though both quickly get back into their corners and stance up for the ringing of the bell.~

Smith: Curt is the first opponent Andrea's had in a long time that didn't overlook her for being a woman!

Hood: You sure that's not because she's only 5'4", Smith?

Smith: Well, tonight, that's not not an excuse! These two are virtually the same size, and the same styles!

~Scruff turns to the timekeeper and is about to signal for the opening bell when...~

I WON'T DENY IT
I'M A STRAIGHT RIDAH
YOU DON'T WANNA FUCK WITH ME

~The introduction of "Ambitionz Of A Ridah" by Tupac pumps through the speakers in the fort, causing Andrea, Curt, Scruff and everyone else in attendance to pause in confusion and turn their attention to the entranceway.~

Smith: Wh...what the hell is that?

Hood: What do you mean, "what is that"? That's Pac man...this is my jam!

Smith: Well I'm happy for you, Hood, but why is it playing NOW? We're trying to have a match here...

~The curtain flies open and Evin Empire ducks out onto the stage, his arms out to his sides and a beaming smile on his face as he is showered with a chorus of boos from the crowd.~

Smith: Oh my god...

Hood: Yes! Yes! It's "The Lady Killer"! It's Evin Empire!

Smith: What is he doing here? He's not even scheduled to compete tonight!

Hood: Smith, if you were any smarter you'd realize how stupid you sound. Evin Empire goes WHERE he wants, WHEN he wants. He said he was going to find a way to make an impact here tonight, and I have a feeling Andrea Hernandez might be about to feel the brunt of that impact!

~Empire slowly swaggers down the ramp, his eyes locked on the Craze Champion as he walks. Andrea's head is on a swivel, keeping one eye on Evin and one on her opponent in the ring. Evin reaches the end of the ramp and stops at the bottom of the steel steps...before continuing past them and around the side of the ring.~

Smith: What is he...oh no, don't tell me he's...

Hood: YES! He's coming over here! Finally, someone ELSE with a little class and dignity to bring to the commentator's table. Sometimes I get lonely out here by myself.

Smith: You know, I really hate you sometimes...

Hood: Well I really hate you ALL the time!

~Evin walks behind the table and, turning back to Andrea, flashes the Aaron Rodgers belt pose before donning his headset and taking a seat next to the commentating team.~

Hood: Mr. Empire, I was just saying how glad I am to have such a dignified idividual as yourself joining us to call this match!

Smith: To what do we owe the "honor"? Doing some up-close scouting before your Craze Championship match?

Empire: Scouting? Ha! I've seen all I need to see, trust me. No, I'm just out here to offer Ms. Hernandez my moral support and watch her wipe the floor with this goofball she's in the ring with.

Smith: Goofball? Moral support? You mean you...you actually want Andrea Hernandez to WIN this match?

Hood: Of course he does, Smith, it makes perfect sense!...explain it to us, Evin...him...explain it to him...

Evin: What's there to explain? I'd just like to see her win her match...and the next...and...the next...

Smith: Aaah, I get it. You want her to wear herself out in this tournament so she'll be less than one-hundred percent when you challenge her for the Craze Championship!

Hood: See!? I knew you were smarter than you look..

~The bell rings, and the match is under way! Curt and Andrea meet, Andrea taking first initiative with a wristlock. The plush ducks might be removed from the ring, but the crowd is still a sea of white fur.~

Smith: I'm expecting to see these two give us everything they got!

Hood: Hopefully the winner saves some, they still got two more matches to go after this!

~Curt reverses the wristlock, turning it into a hammerlock. Andrea slaps his arm on one side, but finds she'll do better to drop down. She is able to trip Canon by the foot, bringing him down onto the mat. She goes for a waistlock, but Curt sits out.~

Smith: I think after the run they're having so far, they might have a lot more in the tank than we think!

~The crowd "quacks" back and forth, as Curt is able to get Andrea into a side headlock. Andrea pulls him back to the ropes, pushing him away. As Curt runs, they swell up.~

Crowd: QU........

Hood: Yeah yeah, Andrea had a couple of upsets, Canon had a couple of upsets.

Evin: These people have caught the Bird Flu...it's Duck Fever!

~Andrea is ready for Curt, but is still met with a shoulder in the middle of the ring. Curt runs to the ropes again, and leaps over Andrea when she rolls over.~

Crowd: QUACK!

Hood: Smith, if they keep this shit up, I'm out of this bitch.

~Andrea leapfrogs a running Curt, who doesn't stop and hits the ropes once more.~

Smith: You're gonna wander through Montana?

Hood: I might go through Wyoming. Haven't decided yet!

Empire: Meet me in Reno.

Hood: Don't tease me..

Smith: Andrea Hernandez with an arm drag takedown!

Crowd: QUACK!

~Curt pops right back up from the arm drag counter, just in time to see Andrea coming his way from the opposite ropes. Curt is able to land an arm drag of his own.~

Crowd: QUACK!

Hood: ...done...I'm done...

Smith: Sit down!

Hood: I can't do this quacking shit! It was bad enough when the Dirty Birds did it!

Smith: Come to think of it, Andrea might be the spiritual successor of them...

Hood: THEY JUST SPLIT TWO WEEKS AGO! Jesus, let's break out the Hall Of Fame ballot already!

~Andrea comes back after the takedown with a standing dropkick, sending Curt through the ropes to the apron. Andrea immediately goes towards the turnbuckles, bouncing straight up to the top rope.~

Crowd: QUACK!

Hood: This is the crap Mike Best is talking about, we just hand out recognition WAY too easy around here! Make people earn th-

Smith: LOOK OUT!

~The crowd is definitely not quacking after that move. In fact, the air may be let out of their feathers as many drop their plush ducks aghast.~

Smith: Someone get down there and check on Andrea now!

Empire: That HAD to hurt...

~A replay is shown on split-screen, thanks to the OCDoubleFeature. Andrea attempted what looked to be a springboard plancha, but Curt was able to duck down...sending Andrea all the way to the floor! And to make it worse, her head connected directly with the wooden barricade!~

Hood: Oh, snap...

~Scruff has no choice but to begin counting Andrea out. "ONE!" Andrea rolls over, showing her face - and the blood coming from her hairline!~

Smith: Oh no! Andrea is busted open!

Hood: Well, she flew like what, twelve or thirteen feet to the floor?

Empire: This isn't good. Come on, Andrea, GET UP!

Smith: I can't help but sense a bit of sarcasm in your voice, Evin...

Hood: Must you be so synical!? The man is out here to cheer his friend to victory..right, Evin?

Empire: Exactly, Hood. Well said.

Hood: Thank you, sir.

Smith: Good grief...

~Andrea grabs onto the top of the crude wooden barricade, pulling herself up. Scruff counts "TWO!" as Curt exits the ring.~

Hood: I would have just waited for the ten count myself. Curt, you REALLY suck at being retired.

Smith: Curt wants to keep going and win this tournament!

Hood: He doesn't have to waste as much energy though, he just cracked her head open!

~Andrea gets to her feet, just in time for Curt to pull her towards the apron.~

Hood: He'd still have two matches to go after this and every cell of oxygen is critical!

Empire: Well he's obviously not using his brain right now, so lack of oxygen should'nt be an issue.

~Scruff makes it to "THREE!". Curt lets Andrea go against the apron, and readies himself for a split second...~

Smith: What's Curt going to do?

Hood: Show Andrea how it's done, that's what!

Smith: Well, he didn't miss, that's for sure! Springboard dropkick from the barricade!

Hood: That thing's sure getting its moneys worth. However much the cheap ass lumber cost from Lowe's...

Smith: OCW is a Home Depot company, Hood, and you know it!

Hood: And that's why our shit breaks all the time.

~A second OCDoubleFeature shows the move in replay, while in real time Curt gets back up although not immediately. Andrea at least makes it onto all fours, and speaking of "FOUR!" that's the count. This time, the longtime OCW veteran opts to roll the Craze champion into the ring - after helping her up by the back of her top and her hair, of course.~

Smith: And Curt Canon is exercising the advantage known as experience, he's going to go for a cover...

Hood: Man, maybe he had the right idea!

~Scruff goes for the count, the first fall attempt of the match.~

Hood: Might get to save his energy after all...

Empire: No way...

Smith: Kickout at one by Andrea Hernandez! She's not out yet, Hood, not by a long shot!

~Some may be questioning why Curt would go for the cover when it was clearly too early. This is answered when he sits her up straight, then slaps on a chinlock.~

Hood: Eh, she's not a total weakling...but Curt Canon has her firmly in his grasp!

Empire: Hey, who are you rooting for, anway?

Hood: I...I don't know! I'm so conflicted right now!

~Curt rolls her over onto her stomach...but wait, Andrea's coming back to! She's on one knee...standing up....~

Smith: You were saying?

Hood: She ain't broke the hold YET!

~A pair of elbows to the midsection later, Andrea does just that.~

Hood: There. Now you can brag! Happy?

Smith: I'm just happy to see these two get so far in the tournament! Andrea comes back...headscissor takedown! Andrea is back in this!

Empire: That's my girl!

Smith: Your "GIRL"...

~The crowd pumps up, as a bloody Andrea rises from the canvas. Her determination is oozing out from her facial expression even moreso than the blood. Curt takes his time getting back up.~

Smith: Andrea Hernandez doesn't care that she's bleeding, the only thing she cares about right now is getting that shot at the OCW World Championship!

Hood: She's going back to the jump off of something well again, that didn't work the first time...

~It works this time, however! After the springboard moonsault connects, Andrea stays on top and hooks a leg...~

Smith: Andrea with the cover! Can she pull off a quick surprise victory!

Empire: YES!

Hood: Come on, Curt, kick out! There you go! Out at two, save that energy!

Smith: Curt might have kicked out this time, but he doesn't want to have to kick out too many more times tonight!

Empire: HOOD...what the fuck?!

Hood: I'm sorry sir, i- i- it just slipped out, I don't know what I'm saying!

~Andrea moves to bring Curt up by the neck. Once he is standing, she throws a kick into his midsection. She goes for another one with the opposite foot, but Curt is able to catch it and hook the knee.~

Hood: There you go! Catch that hopping little flea and swat her like a bug!

Empire: Okay, that's it, you're uninvited to Reno...

Hood: I'm sorry, I just can't do it...damnit, Smith, this is all your fault!

~Curt turns, moving away from the ropes...and executes a perfect fisherman's suplex! He hangs on, and Scruff is right on top of it yet again to make the count...~

Hood: That works too. You're the vet, Curt, you know what you're doing!

Empire: Kick out!!

Smith: Curt might have her put away...NO! Andrea kicks out AGAIN!

Hood: Come on, you had her! Why'd you let her up?

Smith: Why do you not like Andrea Hernandez?

Empire: Yes, why indeed...

~Both competitors turn on their backsides, Andrea having escaped the cradle, and move to rise back to their feet.~

Hood: She's got a loud mouth, Smith, and I don't think she likes me either.

Smith: Try being nicer to her on commentary.

Empire: You know, I think I had you two pegged wrong. Smith...you wanna come out to Reno?

~Curt nails Andrea with five toes to the gut, then an Irish whip into the furthest corner.~

Hood: Oh, are you kidding me? At least I won't have to talk about her any more tonight if Curt hits this!

~Curt runs in! He flips! He flies! He connects! The crowd is wild!~

Smith: Canon Bomb!

Hood: He just BLASTED Andrea Hernandez!

Empire: Son of a bitch!

~Rather than make an attempt at a cover, Curt is forced to remain on the canvas due to needing some air and starting to feel the effects of the match. Andrea's bleeding has appeared to stop, but she might need a couple Band-Aids and a warm water sponge when she gets back to the locker room. Neither seem able to hop back up to their feet anytime soon.~

Hood: Come on, get up!

Smith: Curt Canon came out of retirement for this tournament! He's came so far! Andrea Hernandez has scored two big upset wins to get to the quarterfinals! I'm telling ya, whoever pulls this one off, they're my pick to go the distance just on heart and willpower alone!

Empire: She's going to put him back INTO retirement, too..

~Both Andrea and Curt roll around, trying to shake cobwebs loose. Curt is winded, and Andrea is dazed. Scruff does not need to count either of them for a standing ten-count, as both are off their backs. However, they're both not exactly ready to lock up either. Curt holds his ribs, while Andrea clutches her head.~

Smith: They're giving it their all, just for a shot at a shot at a shot!

Empire: I love it!

~Through liberal use of the ropes, and plenty of encouragement from a crowd with divided yet equal respect and admiration...~

Crowd: "AN-DR-EA!" "LET'S GO CURT!" "AN-DR-EA!" "LET'S GO CURT!"

~...the two quarterfinalists make it to their feet, and to each other.~

Smith: How much more will they have to do to put the other away?

~A right hand from Curt knocks Andrea back. An Andrea kick sends Curt back. An elbow from Curt, then an elbow from Andrea...their strikes meet on the forearm this time...they look at each other...~

Smith: What are they doing?

Hood: They're beginning to believe!

~Andrea and Curt, never taking eyes off one another for several seconds, both turn and leap to the ropes (on either side of the corner they were standing nearby) in a simultaneous springboard! The crowd gasps and roars in a thunderous cheer!~

Smith: SPRINGBOARD DUEL!

~They leap...and collide in midair!~

Hood: HOLY SHIT!

~Andrea holds onto Curt for the pin....~

Smith: One!

Empire: Yes.

Crowd: "TWO!"

Empire: Yes?!

Hood: "THREE! ARE YOU KIDDING ME? SHE WON AGAIN?"

Empire: YES!!!

Smith: "ANDREA HERNANDEZ MOVES ON TO THE SEMIFINALS!"

~Scruff points to the timekeeper, and "Ultranumb" plays once more. Andrea releases the waistlock, falling backwards with a tired sigh of relief. Curt remains on his back, looking up in disappointment and exhaustion.~

Hood: "NO! I GOTTA DEAL WITH THIS CHICK AGAIN TONIGHT?"~

Empire: You're damn right, you do!

Smith: "Curt Canon gave it his all, but Andrea Hernandez was able to catch him with that AMAZING move! A springboard sunset flip, while your opponent is springboarding at you?"

Hood: "Yeah yeah, she's the Queen Of The Springboard..." ~A replay is shown of the move from an alternate angle, showing just how much agility Andrea needed to maneuver herself in mid-air above Curt, who did come in slightly lower than her off the jump - and his feet were touching the mat at the moment Andrea sailed above his head.~

Smith: You can see it on the replay, Andrea just waited that half a second until Curt was on the way back down, THEN she jumps!

~When we return to live action, Andrea's hand is raised by the referee, then shaken by Curt. Both slap each other's shoulders in a hug of mutual respect, before Andrea is handed her OCW Craze Championship.~

Smith: "Andrea Hernandez has surprised everybody since the day she got here, and she just continues to prove her detractors wrong time and time again!"

Empire: For now.

Hood: "Curt! You were ALMOST un-retired, buddy!"

Smith: "Curt Canon put up such a good fight, and he came very close...but Andrea edged him out!"

Hood: "She's used up all her good luck, Smith! Lightning has to strike two more times for her!"

Smith: "Thankfully, she'll have some time to clean that blood up and get her head looked at...hopefully that cut won't need stitches!"

Hood: "Hopefully it knocked some sense into her!"

Smith: "Will you STOP?"

Hood: "Yeah, now that this match is over..."

Smith: Thank goodness…Andrea advances to take on Lurrr. What a match that will be as Andrea will have the chance to take down arguably OCW’s biggest legend.

Hood: Andrea’s got Lurrr…then potentially a third match…and Evin waiting in the wings!

Smith: Life is tough in OCW.

~We cut to outside Fort OCW as those who have elected to sneak outside inbetween matches are enjoying the variety of small attractions. One man is currently vomiting onto the carousel, causing maximum damage due to all the rotation-ing. Just one victim after another, it’s truly a horrific sight.~

~The screams of vomit terror are quick to be interrupted by a large rumbling noise on the outskirts of the fort. One outdoor spectator after another slowly feels the trundling through the vibrating ground beneath them. They look out to the horizon to seek the source of the rumbles.~

Random Spectator: What is that terrible noise dear?

Woman Spectator (who is also random): I sense a terrible beast is approaching. We should make our escape! If we die, I have some things I need to share...

Hysterical Spectator (who may or may not be random): GOD SAVE US ALL! RUN! RUN!

~As the rumbletumble comes ever closer we hear a faint yell from the horizon.~

Faint Scream: yeethawr.

~It’s in small letters because it’s faint, that’s how that works, there will be no questions at this time~

Random Spectator: That scream sounds like someone who kinda but also kinda doesn’t know how to be a cowboy!

Woman Spectator: That sounds absurd and our marriage is dead. It has been for years.

Random Spectator: What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the ever closer rumbling.

~The domestic incident in waiting is halted by the rumbling getting nearer and nearer Fort OCW. Fans begin to point off into the distance as they make out some sort of massive bear rushing towards them carrying a medium sized human inside of a buggy. The bear is using the buggy as a makeshift rickshaw it would seem. ~

Random Spectator: Why has that bear stolen that man?

Woman Spectator: You know, I never loved you.

Slightly Louder Yell: ROOTY TOOTY.

~The distant figures have become much clearer to all of the outside spectators. What once looked like a bear and a medium sized man is in fact a Durango and a medium sized man. In this case the medium sized man would be the one with the middle initial of M!~

Hysterical Spectator: DEAR LORD! IT’S DURANGO! THIS IS WORSE THAN A BEAR! GET OUT OF THE WAY.

Woman Spectator: I’ve been on Tinder for months now. I’ve done things. Unspeakable things.

~The female spectator’s confession is cut short as Durango bull rushes over her husband, launching him up into the heavens and crashing down on the inflatable slide metres away from where he stood mere milliseconds before. A small posse rushes over to attend to him as Durango continues forth. ~

Durango: DURANGO DROP OFF MONEYWORTH TO WOOD WALL!

Yell That We Now Clearly Know Is CMF: PEW PEW!

~The Money of the eMpire stands atop his buggy finger gunning in all directions . Durango has gathered too much momentum however and as he attempts to pump his leg breaks, he ends up swerving into the side of the fort. The not necessarily union construction begins to wobble back and forth slightly, almost sending one side of Fort OCW a-tumbling down. After a few tense moments it all settles. Our Fancy Farthington lad has already backflipped off the buggy and onto the ground which would have normally merited a polite round of applause if most of the outdoors OCW fans weren’t saying their final prayers given the potential of being murdered by a fort~

Farthington: It’s me! Your favourite best boy! The Montana plains could never tame me. I’m here now!

~Cecilworth slowly dusts himself over, surveying the chaos that he has brought around him. He gives the medium level shoulder shrug as he heads towards the fort.~

Smith: That...'man' could be OCW Champion by the end of the evening.

Hood: Do NOT get my hopes up.

Smith: Speaking of things that may or may not scare people...Zybala is our GM. He's put that position on the line against Mario Maurako. Mario's risking a shot at Paul Paras. Those two are set to do battle and that match is next!

Grudge Match
Mario Maurako (10-5) vs. Mike Zybala (7-4)

~The fans are chanting ‘OCW’ within Fort OCW. We’ve seen a few great matches thus far...but there are still many more to come. A clash between legends is upon us. There is a shit load at stake in the upcoming battle. The fans are well aware. The ‘OCW’ chants quickly transition into support for ‘ZYBALA!’ We pan the crowd for homeless people…but it seems as though none of them could afford a ticket. CLASSIC HOMELESS BOOKING. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his throat~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Grudge Match and it is scheduled for one fall! If Mario Maurako wins, Zybala will be demoted to Commissioner. If Mike Zybala wins, Mario must forfeit his guaranteed match against Paul Paras. Introducing first…

WHEN IT’S TIME TO PARTY WE WILL PARY HARD

~Fort OCW explodes!!! We turn to the two wooden doors. They do not open. A fan stands and points saying “LOOK! HE’S UP THERE!” Our view turns upward to find Mike Zybala standing atop the giant, wooden doors! The crowd goes even wilder! He starts to throw SUPERKICKS at the air while up there, which only increases the cheering. A nearby female rips off her top, throwing it at him. Zybala SUPERKICKS the top out of the air, proving that is aim is on point tonight~

Smith: There he is! Our beloved GM!

Hood: Not for much longer…and, seriously…BELOVED? Talk about hyperbole!

~Zybala yells “OPEN THE DOORS!” They creak open. A bunch of homeless people with mustard-stained clothing enter the ringside area. The fans chant “RELEASE THE MUSTARD! RELEASE THE MUSTARD!”~

Smith: It’s the homeless people who have been cheering for Zybala these past six weeks!

Hood: Wearing the same clothing that got drenched in that disgusting mustard. Fucking homeless bums.

~The homeless people turn and raises their arms. Zybala performs a TRUST FALL! Off the top of the doors. The people GASP. It feels like he’s falling forever…in slow motion. He lands right on top of the homeless people who…CATCH ZYBALA!! They carry him toward the ring chanting “PADRE! PADRE!” The fans sigh with relief before throwing superkicks of their own while chanting for Zybala. It’s pandemonium!~

Smith: This place has come unglued! They love Mike Zybala!

Hood: Look at all those amateur superkicks…RUINING the greatest finisher in OCW history. Lurrr should sue!

Smith: Hey, these people are enjoying themselves! It’s been a rough month with the eMpire attempting to take over…can’t these fans have some fun?

Hood: This is fun? I’m not sure I want to live if that’s the case.

~The homeless people carry Zybala to the ring. He sits up and hops onto the apron. He bends over, high fiving all the homeless people. They continue to chant ‘PADRE’ while the fans chant Zybala. Mikey Z turns around and hops over the top rope, hitting the canvas with both feet. He throws some more superkicks, much to the crowd’s delight~

Belvedere: From Buffalo, New York…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is the General Manager of OCW…he is an icon in the sport of professional wrestling…ladies and gentlemen…MIKE ZYBALA!!!

Smith: A man who gets way less respect than he deserves. Mike Zybala has been one of the driving forces behind this epic OCW run. He’s gone from a zany outsider to an OCW legend!

Hood: STOP IT! YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE ME PUKE

~Everything is going peachy until…“Ego” by Element Eighty begins to play. The fans BOOOOO. The homeless people turn to leave. Zybala stops superkicking, finding his corner and limbering up. The wooden doors, already open, reveal the silhouette of a giant man wearing an opened vest and cowboy hat. It is, of course, Mario Maurako~

Smith: And there he is…

Hood: Finally! Some levity around here!

Smith: Mario was destined to face Paras for the OCW Title at this event. Mario was destined to win Block Party. Mario now says he’s destined to defeat Zybala.

Hood: Talk about putting a negative spin on Italian confidence.

Belvedere: And his opponent…from Minneapolis, Minnesota…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 265lbs…he is a member of The eMpire…he is a two time OCW Hall of Famer…he is Mario Maurako!

~Mario makes his way into the ringside area. The bums try to sidestep him. Mario isn’t having it. He goes off on the homeless people!! He begins hammering them with rights and lefts!!! The bums shriek!! Mario tosses one through the air; he lands roughly. Mario boots another in the face. He takes a third bum and slams him, face first into the wooden wall that lines the entrance. The fans are booing! People are turning away…it’s an evisceration~

Smith: Hey! Leave them alone! They didn’t sign up for this!

Hood: When you step into that arena you’re fair game.

Smith: What a bully!

~Mario hooks a fourth bum in a full nelson, slamming him into the dirt with Super Mario! Zybala has seen enough! He leaps over the top rope, landing on his feet, charging forward. Belvedere exits the ring. Scruff remains inside, keeping an eye on what’s going on. Zybala, in a full sprint, dives ahead into the brawl. He lands on top of Mario, throwing lefts and rights into Mario’s head! The cowboy hat falls to the ground. The homeless people, now free, take off, running out of the arena. One lingers…he grabs the cowboy hat, looks around suspiciously and then sprints away. The four bums Mario roughed up remain strewn about like debris post-tornado. Zybala has Mario in a clinch. He drills him with a few knee lifts, trying to subdue the larger man~

Smith: Yes! Way to go, Mike!

Hood: He jumped Mario! What a loser!

Smith: Yea, right…he’s protecting his fans…OCWs fans!

Hood: Okay, let’s get one thing fucking straight here…those bums may be Zybala fans…but I’ll be damned if you call them OCW fans.

~Mario rises through the clinch…in doing so, he lifts Zybala, spins around and drops him with a huge SPINEBUSTER!!! The arena BOOOOS. Mario poses, on one knee, staring down at the injured Zybala. He removes his vest, displaying his ever-increasing physique. Mario’s eyes bulge…the veins in his head pulsate. The man is in a dangerous zone~

Smith: I don’t like that look.

Hood: Zybala is the antithesis of everything Mario thinks pro wrestling SHOULD be. Mario may kill Zybala tonight.

Smith: Let’s hope it doesn’t go that far.

Hood: I’m praying it does.

~We spot some OCW medics rush in, dragging the injured homeless people to a location where they will, likely, receive the best health care of their entire lives. Mario reaches his feet and stomps on Zybala. He stomps again. He’s doing it at his leisure in a very callous and arrogant manner. Zybala absorbs each blow with tremendous pain. He rolls around, trying to avoid the next blow but simply incapable of doing so. Mario, toying with Zybala, follows him like a deviant kid would follow an injured animal~

Smith: This is slightly disturbing.

Hood: Yea? Go watch one of those youtube videos about the five most disturbing things caught on camera...then tell me THIS is disturbing.

Smith: You know what I mean.

~Mario hooks Zybala around the waist, deadlifting the OCW GM. He ragdolls him around because he can. He throws his body into the wooden wall lining the entrance. Zybala’s body SLAMS into the unforgiving wooden structure. He clutches his right shoulder, dropping to his knees. Mario lifts his leg and ‘jabs’ it into the side of Mike’s head, sending Zybala over where he’s resting against the wooden wall~

Smith: Mario is manhandling Zybala at the moment.

Hood: It’s like watching an adult beat on a child. I’d call it child abuse, but this is one child that needs abusing!

Smith: Okay, that was a little far, Hood.

Hood: It’s not a LITERAL child being abused, you fool. Thicken that skin, Smith!

~Mario runs forward and slams his knee into Zybala’s midsection! The fans continue to boo. Mike grimaces, holding his abdomen. Mario takes a few steps back and aims for Mike’s head. The fans yell “NO!” Mario charges forward, throwing his knee at Zybala’s head. Mike moves!! Mario’s knee SLAMS into the wood with a sickening thud!! He leans into the wood, reaching for his knee. Zybala rolls around, in the dirt…he’s still all beat up. He struggles to try and get to his feet, hoping to take advantage of the opportunity~

Smith: Mario goofed, and now Zybala has an opening!

Hood: Took a goof to give THE goof a shot.

Smith: I’m tired of people mocking Zybala! The man is a legend in this business and deserves respect!

Hood: I’ll give him respect when he’s fucking earned it.

~Zybala reaches his feet. Mario remains wounded, against the wooden wall. Zybala charges and jumps at Mario. Mario turns around and tosses Zybala over his head! Zybala’s momentum sends him high into the air. He hits the wall, but manages to push off, performing a reverse crossbody!!! Mario looks up and sees Zybala coming down on him. Mario ducks and catches Zybala across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Mario marches toward the ring, limping every step. Zybala wiggles…Mario’s left knee buckles, creating pain and tension. Zybala is able to break free, grab Mario’s head and drop him with a DDT into the dirt!!! The crowd goes wild!! Scruff reacts by placing his hands on his head in the background, still inside the ring~

Smith: And Hood, I think the fans should be reminded that this match has yet to start!

Hood: True, this is all one giant fucking appetizer.

Smith: They need to get in that ring so Scruff can ring the bell!

~The DDT sends Mario head over heels, landing on his back behind Zybala, nearest the ring. Zybala sits up, shaking his head. Dust flies from his thick, black hair. He wipes it away…a few fans yell that he missed a spot but Zybala sadly informs them that those spots aren’t that color due to dust. Aging gets the best of us, folks. Mike gets to his feet…he works on straightening out his impacted spine. A fan yells out “HE’S GETTING UP!” Zybala spins around and sees Mario on all fours. Zybala runs forward and jumps in the air performing a senton onto Mario’s back, sending him down into the dirt once again! The crowd cheers! “ZYBALA” chants pour down into the OCW arena. Zybala pops to his feet and looks around with a smile. The fans yell out “DO IT!”~

Smith: Give these fans what they want!

Hood: The fuck is he smiling for? He’s in the middle of combat!

Smith: They want to see him superkick the air!

Hood: What? Why? He’s done that like a hundred times already!

~Zybala throws a superkick into the air! The place goes CRAZY!! “ZYBALA! ZYBALA!” Mike wants to throw another one but can’t…Mario is, again, rising. The fans boo Mario interrupting their superkick party. Mike, however, isn’t disappointed. He’s got one more superkick to throw. He gets into position, measuring Mario up. The fans quiet down. People in each section urge everyone to remain silent. A strange hush comes over the entire arena. Mario reaches his feet. His back is to Zybala. He turns around and Zybala lunges forward with a huge ‘SUPERKICK’!!!! Mario’s body flips backward!! His back SLAMS into the Montana earth! The crowd goes wild!! Zybala throws some more superkicks into the air as it feels as though the entire Fort might crumble due to the noise. Zybala hustles toward the ring and slides in. Scruff leans back. Zybala orders Scruff to call for the bell. Scruff isn’t sure if that’s legal…but Zybala, being the GM (for the moment) tells Scruff to do it. The fans yell ‘RING THE BELL!’ So, Scruff calls for the bell initiating the match~

Smith: And we’re underway – officially!

Hood: What the fuck? So he can lay Mario out and then run to the ring like a bitch ensuring a count out?

Smith: Hey, he’s not the one that got this started outside the ring.

Hood: Actually, he is…defending those fucking bums.

Smith: -

Hood: Uh huh…got ya mother fucker

~Scruff yells out “ONE!” Mario has yet to move. Scruff yells out “TWO!” Zybala throws a superkick for the number two…which draws a great reaction. Scruff yells out “THREE!” The doors to the arena creak open. Scruff hesitates…as does Zybala. MARCUS WELSH comes running into a chorus of boos~

Smith: Hey! Get him out of here!

Hood: He’s out here trying to right a major wrong! Mario has been SCREWED every step of the way since returning…it’s time this injustice comes to an end!

Smith: Yea, right…let’s not act like he’s some harbinger of justice. The man simply wants his job back.

~Welsh stands over Mario, urging him to get up. Scruff yells out “FOUR!” Mario’s eyes open. He sees Welsh. The moment flashes across his conscious. Scruff yells out “FIVE!” Mario turns, looking at the ring. He suddenly sits up, pushing Marcus away. Scruff yells out “SIX!”~

Smith: Mario has realized the urgency of the situation but…does he have time to reach the ring?

Hood: If he hadn’t packed all that extra muscle on I’d say yes…but this Mario, who knows, man

Smith: It appears as though he doesn’t want Welsh’s help.

Hood: Eh, I don’t know about that…I just think the guy is in the competitive zone. He’s got one thing on his mind…ruining Zybala.

~Scruff yells “SEVEN!” Mario gets to his feet and staggers to the right; his equilibrium is squishy from Zybala’s superkick. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Mario looks up, swallows hard and takes off, sprinting toward the ring. Welsh stands in the background, wincing. He nearly turns away, afraid to watch. Scruff yells ‘NINE!’ Mario nears the ring. Scruff has all ten fingers extended, arms at his side. He’s about to throw them up when Mario DIVES INTO THE RING!! Scruff’s arms are halfway up…but Mario is safe. He waves off the ten count and signals for the match to continue. The crowd boos which gives Welsh a sigh of relief. Hope is alive!~

Smith: Mario barely…BARELY beat the count.

Hood: Last time I saw Mario run that fast was on the basketball court in a new pair of Jordans.

Smith: I didn’t know Mario played basketball.

Hood: Oh, he can ball.

~Mario rises to his feet…adrenaline gives way to fatigue. The early onslaught, the knee injury, the superkick, the sprinting…Mario’s wind is failing him. His caked in damp dust. Zybala goes after him. Zybala bullies Mario into a corner using his shoulder. Mario throws some forearms down into Zybala’s back. They don’t do much. Zybala rams his shoulder into Mario’s abdomen once, twice, three times! Mario gasps for air. Zybala stands upright and dives in with a head butt to the crowd of Mario’s head!! Mario leans back, his eyes seem to roll…he’s in rough shape. Zybala throws a kick into Mario’s ribcage. Mario staggers forward…Zybala, using Mario’s momentum, grabs Maurako by the waist and throws him down with a Gut Wrench Suplex! The crowd cheers all of Mike’s offense. Welsh, at ringside, looks on with concern~

Smith: If Mario is already fatigued then I don’t see how he can win.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING…this match should have NEVER started the way it did. It was all a PLOY by Zybala to wear Mario out.

Smith: Again…Mario attacked the homeless people! Had he not done that…business would have initiated as usual.

Hood: Oh so he’s just supposed to let a bunch of fucking bums walk by him without assaulting them?

Smith: Yes.

Hood: Weak ass

~Zybala looks down at the weathered Maurako. He senses that Mario may be done. So, Mike stands in a corner, poised for a game-ending SUPERKICK. The fans chant “KICK! KICK! KICK!” they aren't so furtive in their desire this go around. Mario slowly gets up, looking worse for wear. Welsh is barking advice from outside the ring. Mario either doesn’t hear it or isn’t acknowledging Welsh’s plea. Mario gets to his feet. Zybala lunges forward…but Mario drops to the mat!! Zybala whiffs!! Mario hits the mat, laying on the back. The fans booo~

Smith: Did he fall or was that intentional?

Hood: Totally intentional…he faked Zybala out!

Smith: I’m not so sure, Hood.

~Zybala grabs the ropes, stopping the momentum from his whiff. He spins around, finding Mario on his back. Zybala leans into the ropes, bounces off and charges at Mario. He jumps in the air with a leg drop. Mario moves!! Zybala’s leg slams into the mat. Mario crawls for the corner, using the buckles and ropes to get to his feet. Zybala returns to his feet, favoring his hamstring. Mario slaps at his knee, getting it to remain stable. He charges at Mike and nearly takes his head off with a lariat!! Mike turns inside out, landing hard on the mat!! The crowd sits, crestfallen over the turn of events. Mario drops to his knees, facing a corner. He leans against the second rope, resting his chest, sucking wind~

Smith: Ugh, huge lariat from Mario. It appears that ‘fall’ may have, in fact, been intentional.

Hood: I told ya. Mario is a master at deception. Just ask his best friends!

Smith: He has been known to pull the wool over people’s eyes in the past.

~Zybala sits up, eyes wide…he looks like he got hit by a truck. The man is resilient, though, getting to his feet in spite of whatever he’s feeling internally. He turns and sees Mario resting against the second buckle. Mike charges in, throwing caution at the wind, as he’s wont to do…he dives ahead with both knees. Mario moves!! Mario pops to his feet! Zybala’s knees SLAM into the middle buckle. Mario hooks Zybala in a Full Nelson…spins around and PLANTS Zybala into the mat with Super Mario!!! Zybala is OUT!! Mario falls on top of Zybala for the pin! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP!!

Smith: Zybala got the shoulder up!! He’s still alive in this one!

Hood: Son of a bitch!

Smith: Great offense by Maurako…but he can’t seem to do enough to keep Zybala down.

Hood: He’s using what reserves he has left, Smith. This isn’t looking good…c’mon, Mario! Just a few more moves…you’ve got this!

~Mario sits up, swallowing hard. His chest heaves as his body struggles to intake the oxygen necessary to continue. Welsh slaps the mat, urging Mario on. Mario stands, mustering what’s necessary to forge ahead. He grabs Zybala and boots him in the gut, lifting him up for a powerbomb. Mario heads for the nearest corner. He lifts Zybala high in the air for a buckle bomb (Minneapolis Mayhem). Zybala wiggles! Again, Mario’s left knee loses stability. The lack of stamina decreases his strength. Mike is able to jump off Mario’s shoulders and bring Mario face down onto the top buckle with a Facebuster!!! Zybala winds up seated on the pole between the top buckle and ring post..he narrowly missed being crotched. He pops to his feet. Mario is leaning, face buried into the top buckle. Zybala dives off the top with a sunset flip, taking Mario over and hooking him for a pin! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3…NO! Kick Out!!

Smith: Mario Maurako avoided defeat! Wow! I thought Zybala had him!

Hood: Holy shit…we’ve been saved, barely.

Smith: The clock is ticking on Mario, however…he can’t last much longer.

Hood: Literally AND figuratively!

~Mario rolls to his side. Zybala pops to his feet. He lunges forward with a SUPERKICK!! It catches Mario right on the jaw!!! Mario’s body falls back, through the ropes, tumbling to the outside. Zybala hustles over. Welsh is standing over Mario, checking on the OCW hall of famer~

Smith: Mario is prone but he’s outside the ring!

Hood: This is why Zybala needs to get on Mario’s supplements…that way he can pick a guy up and throw him back into the ring when he’s ready to be pinned.

Smith: Or her

Hood: You know many two-hundred-fifty pound women?

Smith: -

Hood: Wait, don’t answer that.

~Welsh puts his hand up, asking Zybala to wait a moment. “He’s hurt!” Welsh yells. Zybala replies, “Isn’t that the point?” Welsh tries to revive Mario. Zybala’s had enough. He hops out of the ring and lands on his feet, outside. He stalks after Welsh, warning Marcus not to interfere with his job. Behind Zybala rises Mario. The fans scream!! They try and warn Mike. Mike turns around and is picked up before being planted with a modified spinebuster into the edge of the apron!!! Mario doesn’t let Zybala fall…instead, he hooks a Full Nelson, rag dolling Zybala outside the ring. Welsh claps and cheers Mario on, “Way to go, Mario!!”~

Smith: La Omerta!! Zybala is in trouble!

Hood: Just tap, baby…just TAP

Smith: Outside the ring? I don’t think that’s possible.

Hood: I’m sure Welsh would allow it.

~Zybala appears out. Welsh slaps Zybala in the face…he looks at Mario, “Yea, he’s out.” Mario hoists Zybala up and throws him into the air! Zybala clears the top rope and lands awkwardly on the mat. The fans are in awe at Mario’s strength. He huffs and puffs after throwing Mike, but steps up onto the apron. Welsh looks at Mario and says, “Wow, what a man. WHAT A MAN!” Mario steps into the ropes and kicks Zybala onto his back. He makes the cover. Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!

NOOO!

Smith: Zybala survives!

Hood: BULLSHIT

~We see Zybala’s arm in the air. He’s got his index finger up and is shaking it left to right indicating that he’s not done! The fans go wild!! “ZYBALA! ZYBALA!” Mario looks at Zybala’s hand. He’s shocked, at first…shock turns to anger. He reaches for the finger and tries to break it. Welsh yells out from ringside “Yes! Break is finger! BREAK IT!” Zybala performs a mini-spin-a-rooni, ripping his hand away from Mario and returning to his feet. Mario struggles to his feet. The big man is wheezing, clearly out of breath. Welsh looks on with concern. Mario charges at Zybala. Zybala tucks and rolls, causing Mario to whiff. Zybala pops back to his feet and jumps, throwing a back kick into the back of Mario’s head. Mario falters into a corner, leaning against the top buckle. His face is drenched. Water leaks off his chin resembling a man under a shower head. His eyes are dim. His chest heaves~

Smith: Oh man, Mario doesn’t look good.

Hood: I say we just call the match and award him the winner. We can call it…philanthropy.

Smith: No

~Zybala is poised for a game ending SUPERKICK. Mario swallows. He looks up. He turns around…he stumbles to his side. Zybala starts to throw the SUPERKICK! But Mario falls to the mat!! The crowd goes silent. Zybala holds up. Welsh runs around the ring, checking on Mario. Scruff drops to a knee. Mario is down~

Smith: Oh my…

Hood: Shit…we need help!

Smith: Mario hasn’t been my favorite lately but this…nobody wants to see this.

~Mario looks up into the Montana sky after Welsh rolls him onto his back. Mario is over heard saying “My legs. I can’t feel them. They just…they gave out.” Welsh nods, patting Mario on the chest. He spots Zybala coming forward. “YOU STAY BACK YOU WICKED MAN!” Zybala holds his hands up, backing away. Welsh tells Mario to hang tight. He motions for Scruff to walk to the corner. Welsh ascends the steps, conferring with OCW’s head ref. Zybala begins to approach, knowing he should probably be involved in this conversation~

Smith: I’d get in there if I were you, Mike. Mario’s hurt…but I still wouldn’t trust Welsh.

Hood: Oh like Welsh would really look to capitalize on a man’s injury. A woman’s, maybe. But definitely not a man’s.

~Welsh leans in, putting his arm around Scruff. Zybala is a few feet away. Suddenly, Mario rises!!! He grabs Zybala from behind, lifts him up and DRILLS him into the mat with SUPER MARIO!!! The entire ring shakes!!! Welsh throws his hands in the air and yells “IT’S A BLOCK PARTY MIRACLE!!” Scruff turns around and slides in, making the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings! The fans boo heavily!! Welsh hops into the ring to celebrate with Mario. Mario tries to get up but Welsh is seen telling him to stay down~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…MARIO MAURAKO!!!!!

Smith: This is disgusting! He’s not hurt!

Hood: Yes he is! It was a miracle! Didn’t you hear?

Smith: Oh whatever

~A wheel chair is wheeled into the arena by an OCW security member. Welsh helps Mario into the chair in a very hurried manner, constantly looking over to make sure Zybala doesn’t get up. They get Mario into the chair and Welsh wheels him out of the arena. He pumps his fist in the air while doing so. Mario leans over, obviously tired from the match~

Smith: Does this really mean Welsh is our GM again?

Hood: I believe so.

Smith: Zybala has to have an argument. There’s no way this should stand.

Hood: Oh quit trying to find loopholes to keep this nutjob in charge.

~Zybala sits up, holding the back of his head. Scruff receives an icepack, placing it on the back of Mike’s neck. Mike looks around, shaking his head. We hear him say “Welsh…” before we cut to Smith and Hood~

Smith: This isn’t over, Hood. Not by a long shot

Hood: It should be! THIS FEUD WILL NEVER DIE

Smith: That’s because Welsh will never play by the rules. If he’d start playing by the rules then everything would be fine.

Hood: He’s single handily brought OCW out of the doldrums and into a renaissance. The man knows what he’s doing…people should just leave him the fuck alone.

Smith: Three matches in and it’s already a turbulent evening. My goodness I can’t even fathrom what remains in store.

~We open on a wide shot of the backstage area set up like a old western saloon. In the middle is a table set up as we can see OCW Hall of Famer Alice Knight, AKB and a third chair currently empty. The two are wearing cowboy hats. AKB doesn't seem happy to be there.

Alice: Howdy ya'll! And this 'ere is my latest pitch to OCW. Hot Supper for 3. Three of OCWs best or worst employees sit back, make predictions and tell stories while they eat a hot supper like meal... sounds good right? Nope! ... Wait for it... Sounds amazing!

AKB: Alice... this was just meant to be another NORMAL interview. I got lots to do tonight, so can we just do this and get it over with, please?

Alice: Tsk, tsk, tsk. Enjoy a FREE hot supper meal, AKB! So... how about that last match. Pretty good, huh?

AKB: I didn't get a chance to see it because we were arguing about me not wanting to wear this stupid cowboy hat!!

Alice: And look who won?

~Alice winks at the camera~

Alice: So! Who is winning this OCW Championship match tonight? Mike Best? Cecil Farting-a-ton, Max Kael or Matt Meyhu, Vinnie Langston or the current champ, Paul Paras? What an epic encounter this should be, am I right?

AKB(lighting a cigarette): Yeah. Going to be a great match. I hope I am not stuck here with you and get to watch the actual thing. But i think the winner will be...

Alice: Shush... it's food time!

~A waitress dressed as a bar maid walks up to the table.~

Bar Maid: Do you want to order now or wait for the third guest?

AKB: Yeah who is the third? It is "Hot Supper for THREE" right? What a terrible name by the way.

Alice: Scruff came up with it... but the guest is quite impressive...

AKB: Really? Like MJ Bell? Brianna Casablanca's? CJ O'Donnell?

Alice: Even bigger and better...

AKB: Big Bifford? We're going to need a bigger chair... and more food. A 'lot more' food.

Alice: You'll see...

AKB: Wow. A real story happening tonight. This could be interesting... miss. I'll have some scotch and, hell, surprise me for the meal. Just make sure none of this brauds mustard touches my plate.

Bar Maid: Okay, one scotch and the raw fish doo-doo platter with no mustard for the mister. And you miss?

Alice: I think I will have the duck with extra mustard...

~Everyone in the staged saloon gasps in anger and shock. Alice awkwardly laughs.~

Alice: What? No good!?

~Scene cuts back to ring side. ~

Smith: Haha oh alice!

Hood: Geezus...she's back. How did she find us? We moved damn near across the country!

Smith: It wouldn't be a big OCW event without OCW's heart and soul, Alice Knight!

Hood: If there's any truth to that fucking statement then we need an exorcism...immediately.

~Scene Opens. Aubrey Baxter was in the hallway near the snack table getting a bottle of water. The Block Party pay-per-view was still going on as Bester spots her in the hallway and approaches her. Looking over her shoulder, Aubrey looks at Bester and sighs a little while shaking her head. Bester could see the concerned look on her face as she places the water bottle back on the table.~

Bester: “Miss….err…..Aubrey.”

Aubrey: “Hey Bester……”

~It took a moment for Aubrey to pull herself together to speak. Clearly she was upset about something. Bester is sporting a big smile, so happy to see Aubrey.~

Aubrey: “Bester, I honestly thought that you and I were friends…..I left you that voicemail and you decide to tell Joe and send him to come see me?”

~The smile disappears from Bester face and is replaced with a confused one. Aubrey sighs.~

Aubrey: “Can you imagine how violated I felt? He completely walks into my room like an intruder.”

Bester: “You left me a voicemail? When?”

Aubrey: “Bester, I sent you a voicemail for you to meet up with me. I wasn’t planning on doing anything with you. I wasn’t trying to make any advances, you claim to be my friend and I was simply reaching out to you for support. I have been a little unhappy lately and all I wanted to do was see you and talk to you. That JOE guy? You honestly call him a friend? He showed up at my hotel and made these threats for me to never see or speak to you again.”

~Aubrey started to sob. Bester goes to hug Aubrey, but then thinks better of it, unsure if he should or not.~

Aubrey: “Why would he do that? Why would you let him do that?”

~Aubrey cries.~

Bester: “I? I?”

Aubrey: “Everything in my life is slowly getting messed up right now Bester. I don’t know what to do. I can’t believe that man! I just can’t!”

~Aubrey turns her back away from Bester and Bester is in a place where he’s not sure what to do.~

Bester: “I don’t know what you are talking about Aubrey? The other day, Mister Jones was at my gym and then he told me he was going to Miami to meet someone. I never got a voicemail. Here, check my phone. Aubrey, I would have gone and seen you. You have to believe me.”

~Bester holds his phone towards Aubrey who slowly turns around. She glances at the phone and glances up at Bester.~

Aubrey: “Why would I want to have anything to do with you if you allow a man like Joe to simply disrespect me the way that he did? If you didn't want to come see me, you could have just told me. I want to cut all business ties with you here in OCW. Is that what you want?”

Bester: “No….”

~Bester is fighting back the tears himself. Aubrey picks up the water bottle.~

Aubrey: “I can’t be friends with you if you keep company like him. I’m sorry Bester, but I just can’t.”

~Aubrey turns and walks away leaving Bester standing at the table, both of them emotional. As Aubrey disappears down the hallway, Bester whips a tear away with his hand and turns and heads in the direction in which he came from.~

Smith: It seems as though someone is making things difficult for Bester.

Hood: Bester is associating with a hot chick. Now he gets to learn what being COCK BLOCKED means. And how apropos this would come up at Block Party.

Smith: I guess...anyway folks, coming up next is the second half of our quarter final match ups. The lone #1 seed left, The Big Bifford is set to take on Duce Jones! That match is next!

SiLVeRFReaK Bracket Final
(1) The Big Bifford (12-3) vs. (8) Duce Jones (1-1)

~Fans inside Fort OCW have just witnessed a tremendous match up involving two pro wrestling legends. Now, they wait…they wait for the quarterfinals of the Block Party Tournament to resume. Belvedere, standing inside the ring clears his throat. The fans go wild~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall, and it is the final match within the SiLVeRFReaK bracket! Introducing first…

~"Godspeed" by Don Trip begins to play and the crowd gives a stronger than anticipated ovation! The wooden doors are opened to reveal son of Krayzie…Duce Jones!! Duce holds another promotion’s belt over his shoulder as he looks around at the unique setting. He’s got a determination in his eyes. He marches toward the ring to the tune of ‘Duce!’ chants~

Belvedere: From Memphis, Tennessee…standing six feet tall and weighing in at 215lbs…Duce Jones!!!

Smith: And here comes Duce Jones! He, like Max Ironside, received a second chance via the benevolence of Mike Zybala. He made the most of it by eliminating Bob Grenier.

Hood: Yep and that was fun and it was cool…but now he faces Biff. The run stops here.

Smith: Duce is another promotion’s champion he’s no doubt hoping to make that organization proud.

Hood: See what happens? Guy steps into OCW to compete and winds up winning another company’s belt. OCW making everyone better, Smith!

~Duce reaches the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. He finds the nearest corner and scales it, looking up into the bright, Montana sky. He’s attempting to reach heights his father never could back in the early 2000s. This is a chance for Duce to avenge his family’s history~

Smith: Krayzie lost to Bifford. Duce lost to Bifford. The Jones family is winless against the OCW legend.

Hood: Yea you’d think they’d quit trying. Go back to that place that gave you their title…it’s safer there.

Smith: Duce wants a challenge, Hood! You have to admire a man willing to step out of his comfort zone.

~“Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio interrupts Duce’s theme. The crowd BOOOOS. Duce looks over his shoulder at the entrance way. He’s ready for the behemoth known as Bifford~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

Smith: Ugh…and here comes Bifford.

Hood: Yes!

~We zoom in on Hood’s cup of water. It starts to vibrate. The Earth shakes! The wooden doors are opened revealing BIFFORD! We see his giant silhouette…the shadow of the doors covering the details of his visage. We also see the frayed edges of his MAGICAL FLEECE. Biff’s hands are on his hips. He steps forward….Hood’s drink continues to vibrate. Biff’s footsteps are rattling the Montana ground. We see Biff carrying something…it’s a tall boy containing a very familiar beverage~

Smith: What’s he got with him? C’mon!

Hood: It’s a tall boy of SILVER COLA

Smith: People still make those?

Hood: I’m sure you can buy a can of it on eBay or, worse, Craigslist.

~Bifford nears the ring. A huge Montana breeze blows through but, shockingly, his MAGICAL FLEECE does not move. Biff sits atop the apron holding the Silver Cola up for the crowd to see. They go wild! A “FREAK! FREAK!” chant is started. Bifford mouths the word ‘coward’ when hearing the OCW legend’s name repeated by the crowd~

Belvedere: From Phoenix, Arizona – home of Kyler Murray. Standing 6’6 and weighing in at 488lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is…The Big Bifford!!!

~More boos as Bifford rolls into the ring, barely fitting under the bottom rope. He struggles to his feet under the weight of his massive girth. Once on his feet, he locates Duce, glaring at the man. Belvedere offers to take his MAGICAL FLEECE, but Bifford’s head turns in Belvedere’s direction giving Belvedere the same menacing glare! Belvedere calmly exits the ring, wanting no part of Biff and his glares~

Smith: Nobody is touching Bifford’s fleece.

Hood: MAGICAL FLEECE

Smith: Yes, his Magical Fleece.

Hood: MAGICAL FLEECE~!

The bell sounds. The fans are ready to see some action! Bifford takes the can of Silver Cola and sets it in the center of the ring. Duce keeps a peripheral eye on what’s happening as he hands his championship belt to Belvedere for safe keeping. He gives Biff his full attention. Biff points at Duce and then SQUASHES the can of Silver Cola!!! Green soda flies everywhere, staining the mat! The fans BOOO. Bifford places his fists atop his hips and releases a video game villain laugh~

Smith: Quick history lesson…Silverfreak invented Silver Cola. It was OCW’s most profitable item during the late 90s, early 00s. Bifford challenged Silverfreak to a match. Silverfreak ducked Biff, never accepting. Bifford hates Silverfreak because of this.

Hood: Wow, that really was a quick history lesson.

~With the can of Silver Cola compressed beyond recognition, Biff kicks it out of the ring and motions for Duce to come at him. Duce releases a sigh. Facing Biff is never easy…in any way. Duce walks around the behemoth commanding the center of the ring. Green liquid stains the ring. Scruff looks around, wondering if the drink is still good. Duce continues to pace, making a full squared circle rotation around Bifford, eyeing an opening~

Smith: Duce taking his time. You know he’s eager to get off to a good start.

Hood: Yea, most people see Biff, and they assume they can maneuver around him. What they fail to realize, until it’s too late is that Biff is very fucking quick for a man his size.

Smith: A tremendous athlete in spite of the blubber that covers all of his body.

Hood: Most! There’s no blubber around that beard.

~Duce increases his pacing. Biff manages to keep Duce in front of him. Duce begins to jog, lightly. Biff pivots quicker, to keep up. Duce suddenly cuts in the opposite direction and darts in, looking to nail Biff with a knee lift. Biff catches Duce!!! Duce looks around, worried and slightly pissed that he jumped in too soon. Bifford spins around and drops Duce with a HUGE belly to belly!!! The entire ring shakes! Biff returns to one knee, struggling to his feet. Duce is flattened out on the canvas~

Smith: He’s just so big!

Hood: That’s what he said!

Smith: She

Hood: No, no, given the context I said it correctly

~Bifford thinks about hitting the ropes but decides it’s too much running. So, he lifts his arm up and falls to the mat with an elbow drop across Duce’s chest. The entire ring, again, shakes…we feel as though it could collapse at any second. Biff smothers Duce for the pin~

1!

2!

3..NO! Shoulder Up!

Smith: Whoaaaa

Hood: It’s hard kicking out, man. Biff is just so fucking fat.

Smith: Duce manage to sneak that shoulder up under all that mass.

~Bifford struggles back to his feet. Duce is gasping for air. Bifford looks at the ropes and sighs…this time he decides to hit them. He jogs toward the ropes, leans into them…they nearly snap. He comes off the ropes and jumps in the air with a splash! He lands right on top of Duce!!! The ring shakes once again! The fans inside FORT OCW are devastated. This is looking like a total squash. Biff lays on top of Duce for another pin attempt~

1!

2!

3! NO! Kick Out!

Smith: Again Duce is barely able to manage a kick out. That’s nearly five hundred pounds on top of him.

Hood: This is like watching a football game…one team comes out and puts up twenty-one points in the first quarter. Duce is fucked.

Smith: Hey, some teams come back against early deficits.

Hood: Not against Bifford…especially not when Bifford is wearing that MAGICAL FLEECE

~Biff remains on top of Duce longer than most would. He positions his body so that the majority of his weight is pressed into Duce. Duce manages to roll over, onto his front side. He throws his leg at the ropes, snaring the bottom. Scruff looks at the situation…it’s strange. But, he figures he should make Biff move…so Scruff begins a five count, ordering Biff to stop laying on top of Duce. Biff finally complies, slowly returning to his feet. Duce’s face is down…it’s in a puddle of Silver Cola. He gets a whiff of the possibly toxic substance and recoils. He rolls onto the apron, getting away from Biff and Silver Cola spillage~

Smith: I don’t blame Duce…it’s horrible in that ring right now.

Hood: So you were always anti-Silverfreak, huh?

Smith: I was NEVER anti-Silverfreak…I’m anti-soda that’s been sitting around for twenty years…as well as anti being laid on by an obese, bearded man wearing a fleece.

Hood: MAGICAL FLEECE

~Duce gets to his feet on the apron. He wipes the Silver Cola from the side of his face. Biff is angered that Duce is on his feet. He charges forward. Duce reaches out, grabs Biff by the head and drops off the apron, raking Biff’s throat across the top rope! Biff stumbles back. Duce hops back on the apron, leaps up, springboards off the top and flies at Biff. Biff catches Duce across his shoulders, falls back and crushes Jones with a MASSIVE Samoan Drop!!! The entire ring shakes. Biff leans back, covering Duce~

1!

2!

3!...NO! Shoulder up!

Smith: Another narrow escape by Duce Jones!

Hood: Biff is so fucking close, man. He can smell it…like an all you can eat Chinese buffet.

Smith: Yea but Duce is surviving…you have to think at some point Biff’s stamina will fail him.

Hood: Not as long as he’s wearing the MAGICAL FLEECE

~Biff returns to his feet. Duce is clutching his abdomen, suffering the lingering effects of a samoan drop from a man as big as the biggest samoan imaginable. Jones gets on all fours. Biff walks up behind Duce and hooks him around the waist. He deadlifts Jones off the mat and goes for a German Suplex. Duce flips over, landing on his feet. He hits the ropes, bounces off…Biff turns around and drops Duce with a HUGE shoulder tackle!!! Duce hits hard, wincing…but fighting, fighting back to his feet. The fans start to rally behind Duce~

Smith: Duce is taking some punishment but he’s beginning to realize now is the time

Hood: Yea if he doesn’t get something going he’s fucked.

~Duce returns to his feet. Biff looks at him, angrily. Duce’s back is to Biff…he looks over his shoulder at the massive beast. Duce takes off, hitting the ropes once more. Biff throws his giant arm at Duce…Duce slides underneath the arm and grabs Biff’s MAGICAL FLEECE! He tears it off of Biff’s body and throws it out of the ring! Fort OCW goes crazy!!! Biff spins around, stunned! His MAGICAL FLEECE is gone!! He looks at Duce with FIRE in his eyes. Duce returns the determined gaze. Biff charges at Duce. Duce ducks a lariat. Bifford turns around and eats a superkick!! He stumbles backward. Duce delivers ANOTHER superkick!! Bifford falls into the ropes; his arms become tangled between the top and middle rope. He’s stuck! Duce looks around, smiling…he’s got a chance~

Smith: Bifford is tied up in the ropes!

Hood: Duce should be disqualified for messing with the MAGICAL FLEECE!

Smith: Oh please, that fleece is ridiculous. I’m glad he ripped it off!

Hood: You go too far

~Duce throws a huge right hand into Biff’s face. He takes that same right hand and brings it back across with a bitch slap to end all bitch slaps! The crowd goes wild!! Biff looks up at Duce as though he were a cow that got away from the slaughterhouse. Duce kicks him in the chin, knocking that look away. Duce suddenly has an idea. He takes a few steps back. Scruff moves forward, knowing he needs to do what he can to free Biff. Duce charges ahead and DRILLS Biff in the face with the D-Trigga!!! The fans erupt!! Biff’s head jerks back from the impact! The fans chant “DUCE! DUCE!” Biff remains tangled in the ropes~

Smith: Huge D-Trigga from Duce! Bifford is in serious trouble.

Hood: No shit, man…as long as Biff is tied up in those ropes, Duce can hit him with that D-Trigga as much as he wants.

Smith: Indeed

~Duce looks down at his knee, working it back and forth. It’s been giving him trouble lately. He runs through an internal debate over whether or not to deliver another D-Trigga. Biff begins to recover, throwing his gaze back Duce’s way. Scruff is having trouble untying Biff. Duce says ‘fuck it’ and runs forward, smacking Biff with ANOTHER D-Trigga!! Biff’s body nearly goes limp. Duce limps around the ring, obviously angry over the damage he’s doing to that knee~

Smith: I know it’s a go-to move and Biff is in prime position to take it…but at some point, you have to consider self-preservation. IF Duce were to win…he’s got another match later this evening…at least!

Hood: Word has it D-Trigga has been so overused in that other organization that his knee is all fucked up.

Smith: I wouldn't know about that…but I do think, at this point, Duce needs to consider an alternative form of punishment.

~Duce works his knee out. It appears to be stabilized. Scruff almost has Biff freed. Duce realizes he's’ got one more opportunity for a free strike. So he charges forward and performs his patented move Nice to Knee You (A swinging knee lift)!!!! It SMACKS right into Biff’s face!! The ropes come undone and Biff crumbles to the mat. Duce yells out in pain, reaching for his knee. He’s on the mat, banging it with his fist. Scruff checks on Duce~

Smith: That may have injured Duce’s knee.

Hood: Well if it did…he fucking deserves it. Disrespecting a man’s fleece…that’s just…just…unconstitutional!

Smith: I have no idea what that is supposed to mean.

~Scruff asks Duce if he’s okay. Duce shoves Scruff away…he isn’t about to have any potential stoppage over an injury. He crawls toward Biff. Bifford is face down, unconscious. Duce uses all the strength and leverage he can muster to push Biff onto his back. He does it! Duce jumps on top of Biff for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Biff with the HUGE kick out!

Hood: Yea…all those knees strikes and for what? A fucked up knee!

Smith: Duce is in bad shape…but, at least he’s got control of the match.

Hood: Yea, until Biff stands up and CRUSHES him

~Bifford tries sitting up, but it’s tough with a stomach as wide as EQUATOR. Duce uses the ropes to get back to his feet. He curses at his gimpy knee. WHY THE FUCK IS IT FAILING HIM NOW? He throws a kick at Biff using his good leg…his bad knee buckles, sending Duce to the mat. Biff looks over and smiles, realizing Duce is inflicting about as much pain on his own body with this offense as he is Biff~

Smith: I admire Duce’s fighting spirit, but he’s got to contemplate preservation.

Hood: Fucking dude is trying to win, man. You weren’t an athlete, so I don’t expect you to understand what I’m about to say. When you’re in COMPETITION, you don’t think gay ass shit like “Oh I’d better watch my knee”…nah man you fucking compete!

Smith: I played badminton.

Hood: Geezus

~Duce, again, fights to his feet. Biff rolls onto his stomach realizing it’ll be easier to rise from this position. Duce is leaning into the ropes…he sees Biff rising like the tide…and, like the tide, he’s not going to be stopped. Duce sees a window for a D-Trigga, but he holds back. He just can’t…not with his knee in its current shape. Biff rises…Duce charges forward, with a slight limp, and jumps into the air for SLING BLADE! Biff catches Duce on his shoulders and drops him with a Death Valley Driver!!! The entire ring shakes from impact!! Duce is down! Biff covers Duce…Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Duce survives!

Hood: He’s relied on that fucking knee for so long that…without it he’s lost.

Smith: Indeed…a D-Trigga may have knocked Biff out. But, Duce weighed the cost and decided it was too steep.

Hood: I’d have done it…better than taking a DVD from Bifford.

~Bifford lays on top of Duce for awhile, acting like the bully he is. Scruff finally urges Biff to get up. Bifford does, in begrudgingly fashion wondering why the rules are always against him. He struggles to his feet. Duce rolls toward the ropes, finding the apron. He pulls himself up, keeping the weight off his bad knee. Bifford charges forward. Duce spins around. Biff’s body hits the ropes, bouncing off…Duce steps back into the ring and drills Biff in the head with a Superman Punch!!! Bifford stumbles backward! Duce hits another Superman Punch! Biff stumbles back further. Duce hits a THIRD Superman Punch!! Biff falls into a corner, leaning back, into the buckles. Duce slaps his knee, making sure it’s ready to go. He charges forward and hits a crossbody!!! He slips through the ropes, using some of his momentum, finding the apron. Bifford stumbles forward~

Smith: Duce is on fire! He’s looking to drop Bifford with Duce’s Wild!

Hood: Shit…if he hits this it’s over.

Smith: I think so…he’s really put it to Biff the past several minutes. The OCW legend is hanging by a thread!

Hood: It’d be the thickest thread ever.

~Duce scales the ropes as quickly as he can. He tries to stand…but his knee nearly gives out! The crowd reacts with panic and fear. Duce, though, manages to regain his balance. He looks down at Biff and leaps off, looking for a Zig Zag!! But Biff spins around and catches Duce in midair!! Biff turns Duce upside down and drops him with THE BIFF END!!!! The entire ring shakes with impact as Bifford holds on for the pin…Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is the man who has won the SiLVeRFReaK Bracket…THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!

Smith: Dang it!

Hood: Duce’s body failed him.

Smith: Yep, all those D-Trigga’s mid-match really threw him off. Had he not lost his balance on the top rope he would have likely finished Biff off via Duce’s Wild.

Hood: Yep…but, he didn’t, and Biff moves on.

Smith: Duce is now 0-2 against Bifford. If he sticks around you know he’s going to want a third crack at him.

Hood: He’s been close, Smith. I doubt Biff takes a third match against Duce. You know Biff, he doesn’t want to face them if he isn’t sure he can beat them.

Smith: Bifford advances to face the winner of James Raven and Max Ironside.

Hood: Yea he escaped without any injury aside from, ya know, being way too fat to wrestle three matches in one night.

Smith: It will be interesting to see how his stamina holds up moving forward.

~Bifford exits the ring and grabs his MAGICAL FLEECE, brushing it off. Duce sits up, pounding the mat in frustration. He slaps at his knee, angry over its failure. The fans clap and begin to chant “DUCE! DUCE!” Duce looks out, surprised by the reaction. It’s clear these fans respect him~

Smith: Heck of an effort, Duce. We hope you stick around!

Hood: He made his father…his family proud. Give this kid a little time under the OCW umbrella…a few more matches and he could wear the OCW Title.

Smith: He’s got that kind of ability, for sure.

~Scene Opens outside the fort, near some temporary tents. AKB is walking with a staff employee named Joseph. Both men began to sniff around and noticed a specific smell coming from inside the hallway.~

[AKB]: “You smell that?”

[Joseph]: “Yeah it smells good…”

~As both men walk further down the hallway, they notice a large group of OCW fans backstage in the hallway. Inside the hallway, there was a table set up with Jason Kortare sitting at the table. There were trays of freshly baked cupcakes on the large table, both chocolate and vanilla with frosting. There was also a big bowl filled with big buttons with the hashtag “#TeamMarcus” written on the buttons. AKB and Joseph both approach Jason at the table with all the OCW fans standing out in the hallway. Once Jason looks over and notices both AKB and Joseph, he gets up from the table and greets them with a smile.~

[Jason]: “Well, hey guys, what’s up? Would you like a cupcake?”

[AKB]: “Oh yeah, they smell great.”

[Jason]: “Sure, all you gotta do is follow the social media page #TeamMarcus on instagram and claim your support for Marcus Welsh and I will give you a cupcake and this really cool #TeamMarcus button for you to wear on your shirts.”

~Jason was all smiles as both AKB and Joseph looks confused.~

[Joseph]: “....Say what?”

~Suddenly, Marcus Welsh comes entering the catering tent as he spots Jason, Joseph, AKB and some OCW fans all standing near the table. Jason walks over to Marcus and greets him with a hug.~

[Jason]: “Hey handsome.”

[AKB]: “Jason, can you please tell us what is going on?”

~Jason chuckles lightly as he looks at everyone.~

[Jason]: “Well AKB, some people already know that I am naturally gifted at being a businessman. I am more than just an amazing in-ring competitor. Now, Marcus agreed to manage me as a superstar here in OCW and when it comes to the closeness that Marcus and I have? Heh, I’m always thinking about great ways to show my gratitude towards Marcus....So, I decided to make a few business calls and was able to get a movement started.”

[Joseph]: “Movement?”

[Jason]: “Yup, the Team Marcus Movement.”

~Crowd reacts~

[Jason]: “We have some amazing OCW fans here tonight with Team Marcus buttons on their shirts. They are enjoying some of my delicious cupcakes and they all have decided to join the TEAM MARCUS MOVEMENT in support of Mr. Welsh here in OCW.”

[AKB]: “..........Supporting him for what?”

~Jason looks at AKB with a bit of an annoyed look.~

[Jason]: “Don’t you get it AKB? Marcus brings greatness to OCW, he always has. I am simply making sure that his greatness continues to grow and get appreciated in OCW. So, I decided to start the Marcus Welsh Campaign. The Team Marcus movement, all the fans in OCW can sign up and follow #TeamMarcus on social media and show your support for Mr. Welsh. If we get millions of supporters. I’m sure that OCW headquarters is going to take notice of it. Think of this movement as a campaign for Marcus.”

[AKB and Joseph]: “What????”

[Jason]: “Look guys, I am a busy man, are you guys gonna sign up or not?”

[Joseph]: “Jason, I think you are getting in way over your head.”

[Jason]: “Way over my head? Oh please Joseph, don’t hate on me because you decided not to have a big enough heart to show this man, this great man right here, HIS appreciation in OCW.”

~Jason had his arm around Marcus as he pulled him in close. After he was done rubbing his back, he walks over to the table and grabs a vanilla cupcake.~

[Jason]: “You see boys, I already got plenty of followers and supporters with this Marcus movement. So far, it’s been good, just as good as the time i’ve been spending with…Marcus.”

~Jason looks at the cupcake and then back at Marcus with a little grin.~

[Jason]: “Hey Marcus, you can have a cupcake, I know how much you love vanilla...he loves vanilla.”

~Jason takes his finger and gently digs up some of the vanilla frosting. He reaches over and gently feeds it into Marcus mouth with his finger.~

*The Crowd Reacts*!

~Jason licks the rest of the leftover frosting and sucks on his own finger. The crowd could not stop looking at him.~

[AKB]: “Jason, look, i’m sure we all appreciate your enthusiasm on building OCW up, but uuum, I think this is a little bit too much, don’t you think?”

~Jason felt like he was slowly losing his patience with AKB as he walks over to him with a smile.~

[Jason]: “Oh AKB, just shut up and eat as many cupcakes as you want. Judging by the fact that you and Joseph’s abs do not look as good as mines, clearly you want these cupcakes.”

~Jason laughs.~

[Joseph]: “I just think…”

~Jason cuts him off as his mood completely shifted into a level of being pissed off!~

[Jason]: “Shut up FAT A$$, let me do my job in making sure that the Marcus Welsh legacy NEVER slows down.”

*The crowd reacts!*

~Jason smiles with his mood going back to normal as he looks over at Marcus.~

[Jason]: “Marcus….The Team Marcus movement is a great idea. Think of it as a true campaign in your honor. Once this thing really takes off during the summer? OCW will truly see the power that you possess in ways that will change Monday nights forever. This isn’t even the surprise that I have planned for you in New York for our business trip after Block Party. Trust me, all of this is gonna be something that you can’t say no to.”

~The crowd was reacting on behalf of Jason’s behavior. Joseph was shaking his head as AKB looks at both Jason and Marcus.~

[AKB]: “Mr. Welsh…….”

Marcus Welsh: These are some tasty cupcakes. I’m all for any movement benefitting my cause. As you all saw earlier this evening, the power is shifting back my way. Once tonight is over and I’m back in charge the people who have stuck by me…

~Welsh brings Jason in tight, squeezing his shoulder~

Marcus Welsh: They will be handsomely rewarded. Now, if you’ll excuse me…I’ve got some plans to make concerning the future of this great company…

~Welsh exits the catering tent as we cut back to the announce team~

Smith: A very special relationship continues to be…very special.

Hood: Any way we can get some of those cupcakes?

Smith: I think you need to relax. We’ve got bigger things to worry about…

Hood: Like?

Smith: Like finding out who is going to advance and face Bifford in the semi-finals! James Raven, an outsider stepping in, faces off against OCW’s top underdog, Max Ironside. They both defeated Hall of Famers to get here…who will prevail? Let’s head down to ringside and find out!

Scott Syren Bracket Final
(6) James Raven (2-0) vs. (8) Max Ironside (3-1)

~Fort OCW is rocking! People are enjoying libations from aluminum containers. Strange looking but delicious smelling soup has been ladled onto tin plates for the people within the fort to enjoy. If you’re appalled, don’t be. There’s plenty of normal shit like burgers, hot dogs, candy, popcorn, etc. outside the fort at one of the regular concession stands. However, inside Fort OCW we are trying to keep it real! Barrels of whiskey are being toted around by workers…they are strapped to their back. Patrons pay and then refill their aluminum cups. Belvedere clears his throat to get their attention…it’s time for the final quarterfinal match of the evening~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a quarterfinal match in the Block Party Tournament, and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…

~"Back For More" by Five Finger Death Punch begins to play. Fort OCW goes wild! “MAX! MAX!” People spill their whiskey and questionable looking soup as they leap to their feet in favor of the biggest underdog in company history! The wooden doors open to reveal the man himself…MAX IRONSIDE! Max looks around, obviously taken back by what he’s experiencing. He’s come a long way from life on the indies. He smiles and sprints for the ring, unable to contain the adrenaline running through his body. He slides into the ring and pops to his feet. Max jogs around the ring, motioning toward all the fans with his left hand~

Belvedere: From Battle Creek, Michigan…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 155lbs…Max Ironside!!!

Smith: By far the biggest night of Max Ironside’s career. By the end of this evening, we could be saying Max Ironside is the #1 Contender for the OCW Championship.

Hood: DUDE! STAHP! We’ve reached a point where Paul Paras, Matt Meyhu, Mike Best, Max Kael, Vincent Langston, Aidan Collins…etc. etc. are competing for the OCW Championship. Keep one-armed men AWAY from that scene!

Smith: He’s got two arms!

Hood: Chyea…like, barely.

~"Bleed it Out" by Linkin Park hits! The crowd ceases their cheering for Max. They know shit’s about to get real. Max stops running around and locates his corner, leaning back, preparing for war. The fans begin to clap along to Raven’s famous entrance theme. The wooden gate opens revealing the man himself…a legend in the world of professional wrestling – James Raven! Raven looks around, taking in the unique setting. Odds are he hasn’t experienced an event like this. He nods along to his music while marching toward the ring. He extends his arms, slapping hands with the fans who are leaning over to take advantage of the opportunity to touch greatness~

Belvedere: Making his way to the ring…from Toronto, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 222lbs…he is a legend within the sport of Professional Wrestling…ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back James Raven!!!

~Raven acknowledges the introduction by raising an arm in the air. He reaches ringside and steps up onto the apron before confidently striding in through the ropes. Belvedere exits the ring. Raven is receiving a ton of respect from the fans. However, it’s clear that Max is still the favorite. The bell sounds~

Smith: You can’t help but pull for Max Ironside.

Hood: Oh hell yes you can pull against him. James Raven should have been given a bye to the semifinals. Making him wrestle that…that THING is abhorrent!

Smith: You’re abhorrent! Max is an inspiration to everyone that if you follow your dreams, anything is possible!

Hood: Yea well Raven is going to become a dream crusher in a few minutes.

~Raven finally turns his attention toward Max. He heads for the center of the ring. Max follows. Ironside extends his hand. Raven looks down at the invitation. The fans chant ‘SHAKE! SHAKE!’ Raven reaches out and slaps Max’s hand in a friendly gesture. The crowd pops. The two men begin to circle one another, ready for combat~

Smith: Nice show of sportsmanship

Hood: I think Raven is simply placating the kid. Let him think he’s got respect before ripping that arm off.

Smith: And why would he do that?

Hood: Because…Vargas disrespected the kid, and it got him a big fucking loss. Raven going about this the opposite way…he’s using his brain. And, despite his name, it’s no bird brain, Smith.

Smith: Tremendous

~Raven and Max move to lock up. Raven has a clear advantage in size and fully functional appendages…so he snares Max in a headlock. He looks to take Max down. Max gets free and flips over, onto his feet. Raven, on the mat, pops to his feet. Max hits the ropes, charging at James. Raven ducks for a back body drop…Max hops over James, he flips over Raven’s back, landing on his feet and charging at the ropes. Raven spins around. Max bounces off the ropes…Raven extends his arm for an arm drag. Max jumps up, taking Raven’s arm and positioning himself for a Crucifix Pin. Raven holds on, trying to lift Max into a fireman’s carry. He does! Raven attempts a Death Valley Driver, but Max lands on his feet. He throws a superkick…Raven catches his leg! Raven throws Max’s leg to the side and delivers a roundhouse kick…Max ducks!! Raven spins three-hundred-sixty degrees…both men face each other, ready for what comes next. The fans give them a standing ovation~

Smith: Wow! These men are quick, agile, and visceral! Neither competitor has been able to land a single blow.

Hood: Yea I can hear the Max fans jizzing their pants over that sequence. Hey, guess what you fucking nerds…Raven’s twice that guy’s size and just as quick. This won’t end well for your gimpy ass hero.

Smith: RUDE

~Again, Max extends his hand, showing respect. Raven lowers his guard and wipes some sweat from his face. He reaches out and slaps Max’s hand a second time…however, unlike the first sign of respect, the one comes with consternation on Raven’s face. He’s being made aware that Max is very dangerous…it’s time to level up. He paces around Max…Max follows suit. The two men size one another up. Raven lunges first, looking for a lock up. Max ducks and hooks Raven around the waist. Raven walks Max toward the ropes. He grabs onto the top rope, forcing a break. Max releases…but not for long…he jumps up, flipping over Raven’s back and landing on the apron in front of James. Max performs a backflip, landing a Pele Kick square on Raven’s forehead!!! He manages to stick the land on the outside, narrowly avoiding his head slamming into the edge of the apron. Raven stumbles backward. Max spins around and hops on the apron…he leaps up and springboards off the top rope with a cross body! He connects, taking Raven down! The place goes wild~

Smith: Wow! What athleticism by Max Ironside! He’s proving to James Raven that he’s capable of hanging with the very best!

Hood: Raven’s got to wake the fuck up. I know he just beat The Incredible One…but right now, for whatever fucked up reason, Max is a tougher challenge.

Smith: Momentum, Hood…it’s the one element in competition that cannot be scientifically explained.

~Max doesn’t go for the pin. It’s too early for that. Ironside is back on his feet. He’s on his toes, teetering up and down, anxiously waiting for Raven to return to his feet. James does. Ironside charges at Raven, looking for a hurricanrana. Raven hangs on!! He tries to powerbomb Max…but Ironside flips over Raven’s head, landing behind James. An increasingly frustrated Raven turns around…Ironside hits the ropes. He bounces off and slides between Raven’s legs. Raven turns around and eats a dropkick!!! Raven stumbles against the ropes, stunned. Ironside charges in and clotheslines Raven over the top to the outside!!! James lands on his feet…he stumbles around, dust kicks up, hitting him in the face. Max runs for the corner and climbs. He stands at the top, turning around…he leaps off…Raven looks up, squinty-eyed and is dropped with a moonsault!! The crowd goes wild!! “MAX! MAX! MAX!” Max pops to his feet, fired up!! Raven is left lying in the dirt, wincing, trying to sit up~

Smith: Holy smokes, Max is on fire! This one may not last much longer!

Hood: Fucking Raven…clothesline his ass! Do something!

Smith: He’s trying, Hood. Max is simply one step ahead.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~Scruff yells out “ONE!” Max looks down at Raven and contemplates, briefly, an attempt at a count out victory. He quickly decides against it, snaring Raven by the arm and yanking him to his feet. He Irish Whips Raven into the apron. Raven hits hard. Max delivers a bicycle kick to Raven’s face! The impact sends Raven up onto the apron, rolling into the ring. He’s flat on his back, center of the ring. Max jumps up onto the top rope and springboards off…her performs a corkscrew elbow drop onto Raven!!! The crowd goes wild!! Max makes the cover…Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Max just hit One-Armed Bandit, but it wasn’t enough!

Hood: He needs to hit that shit from the top.

Smith: Indeed…it’s a move usually performed from the top but Max improvised…did it cost him?

Hood: Well he didn’t get the fucking three count so I’d say so.

~Ironside might be disappointed, but you’d never tell it by the look on his face. The man remains determined. He hasn’t come this far to let one near fall deter him. He pops back to his feet. Raven sits up looking like a guy that just sat through a broadway recreation of The Room. He’s confused, bewildered…punch drunk. Max runs into the ropes and throws a penalty kick at Raven. Raven’s instincts kick in…he ducks and kips up! Max hits the ropes, bounces off and eats a HUGE lariat from Raven!!! Max turns inside out, falling to the mat with tremendous force. The fans are crestfallen…they all sit down, seeing their burgeoning hero take a huge hit. Raven drops to a knee, resuming recovery~

Smith: Ugh…Raven just did as you suggested.

Hood: About fucking time! Almost knocked that idiot’s stupid head off.

Smith: Max’s energy stymied with one move. That is the disadvantage Max has and will always face in these matches.

Hood: Guy should really do roids.

~Raven rises. It’s obvious he’s hurting. But the man has been through worse. He grabs Ironside by the hair, yanking him to his feet. He shoves Max into a corner. Max hits hard. Raven throws a boot into Max’s abdomen. He follows that up with a straight right hand across the jaw. Max leans forward, nearly collapsing to the canvas. Raven’s offense is slow and methodical…an attempt at getting things under control. Raven delivers a forearm uppercut that nearly sends Ironside over the corner, to the outside. His legs kick up from the impact. Raven grabs Max’s legs and drags him out of the corner. He begins to spin Ironside around, loosening his bearings. After several rotations, Raven tosses Max up, catches him, spins around and drills him into the mat with a spine buster!!! Raven covers Max~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: Innovative move by one of wrestling’s greatest.

Hood: No shit…James Raven for president!

Smith: I believe you’re thinking of Aidan Collins.

Hood: Fine, Raven can be Aidan’s Joe Biden

~Raven sits up, taking a brief moment to collect himself. He’s nearing full recovery from Max’s earlier assault. He gets to his feet. Ironside is trying to join him. An act that earns Max a kick in the face, sending him back to the mat. Raven pulls Max back to his feet, now that he has Ironside subdued. He hooks Ironside’s head and drops him to the mat swiftly with a swinging neck breaker! Max reaches for his neck, in obvious pain. Raven pops back to his feet, looking more and more in control. The fans are growing restless~

Smith: These fans aren’t against James Raven. They are just PRO Max Ironside.

Hood: Yes, WE KNOW

Smith: Max came out here and gave it his best…but I’m afraid the talent of James Raven is too much.

Hood: Thank goodness. Get this weirdo OUT of here.

~Max gets on all fours. Raven runs forward, kicking Max in the ribcage! Ironside flips over, displaying pain on his face. Raven reaches down and snares Ironside, more violently than before. He throws a few punches into Max’s midsection, loosening Ironside’s base. Max doubles over, and Raven snares him by the head, dropping him to the mat with a DDT!! Max appears out!! Raven rolls him over and makes a cover~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Max kicks out again! The heart in this kid!

Hood: It needs to be ripped out!

Smith: Raven is doing everything he can to keep Max down, but Max won’t comply.

Hood: That’s okay; Raven’s got bigger weapons at his disposal. It’ll all be over soon.

~Raven returns to his feet, retaining his composure. As Hood said, he’s yet to throw any of his ‘big’ moves at Max. So this is all okay. He backs up into a corner, waiting for Ironside to rise. The fans get behind Max…they start chanting his name. Max tries to sit up…he rolls onto his side; his eyes are glazed. He appears confused. He gets to his feet, his back facing Raven. Max turns around, and Raven charges forward, looking for Divebomb! Max leaps over James! He attempts a sunset flip! Raven flips over but manages a full rotation, back to is feet. Max hurries up but eats a dropkick from James!!! Max falls to the mat, down…the fans are disgruntled and upset…this feels like it could be the beginning of the end~

Smith: Dang it! I thought Max was going to make his big comeback there.

Hood: Haha, so did Max.

Smith: James Raven is very, very good.

Hood: No shit.

~Once again, Raven measures Max up. He’s got DIVEBOMB in his sights. He’s gonna hit this bitch come hell or high water. A delirious Max relies on fighting spirit and instinct to return to his feet. Raven charges his way, looking for Divebomb. Max, however, grabs Raven and jumps in the air looking for Han-decapitation (Facebreaker Knee Smash)!!! Raven blocks it! Raven hoists Max onto his shoulders and spins around…Max breaks free, drops from Raven’s shoulders and drops him with an Inverted Russian Leg Sweep (Special Needs)!!! He jumps on top of Raven for the pin! The fans count along~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!!

Smith: No!!! I thought Max had it!

Hood: I think everyone watching…aside from King Infinity…thought Max had it.

Smith: That’s just gutting…absolutely GUTTING. C’mon, Max…don’t give in. Keep fighting!

~Ironside sits up, against Raven. He shakes his head, disappointed. Raven rolls away, not really into man on man flesh for longer than three seconds. Max sits up. The crowd rallies behind him “MAX! MAX!” He looks around, deriving inspiration from the OCW fans. Ironside nods, fired up…he’s finding his spirit! He gets to his feet. Raven, on the apron, does the same. Max charges at Raven, leaping into the air…Raven throws a SUPERKICK over the top rope into Max’s chin!!! Max somehow lands on his feet…he’s about to topple over, though. Raven aids him in the fall by diving through the ropes with DIVEBOMB!!! Max flips over, landing front first onto the mat. Raven rolls Max over and makes the pin. He holds his hand up, counting along with Scruff~

1!

2!

3!

NO!

Smith: Max got his shoulder up! The underdog story isn’t over yet!

Hood: WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT

Smith: Never underestimate the heart of a fighter!

Hood: When did we become the Walt Disney fed…for fuck’s sake!

~Raven pops back to his feet, unhappy with the lack of three confirmed mat slaps. He realizes arguing with a ref is futile, at best. So he focuses his frustrations on Max. He stomps on Max, while the man is down. The crowd murmurs with discontent. Raven stomps on Max again. The crowd continues to sound out in mild disapproval. Raven sees Max’s handicapped appendage. He hesitates, for a moment, before stomping on it!! The crowd goes from mild disapproval to full blown hate. BOOOOO!!! It’s water off a duck’s back to Raven – the man is doing what he must. Max tries to protect his bad hand, pulling it in close while trying to roll out of the ring. Raven grabs Max by the legs and drags the much smaller man back into the center of the squared circle~

Smith: There is no need for this!

Hood: It’s a competition, Smith. He’s exploiting his opponent’s weakness.

Smith: Still!

Hood: Hey, he played nice…but Max decided to kick out of not one but TWO of Raven’s trademark moves. That means no more Mr. Nice Guy.

~Max spins around while Raven has control of his legs…he looks up at Raven and tries to kick him away. Raven starts to lose his grip due to Max’s squirming. Ironside gets a leg free and plants a foot right into Raven’s face!! Raven stumbles backward. Max kips up!! The fans pop to their feet in a far less athletic yet no less enthusiastic manner! On his feet, Max knees Raven in the gut! James doubles over…Max hits the ropes, he bounces off and drops Raven with Han-decapitation!!! Fort OCW goes wild!! Raven is down! Max pops to his feet and points toward the buckle…the fans chant “GO MAX GO!”~

Smith: He might have the victory already sewn up, but Max wants to make Raven pay!

Hood: This fucked him against Vargas!

Smith: Indeed…but I think when someone targets that arm he loses it and wants to make them pay.

Hood: Kid’s got some serious anger issues.

Smith: Well, I don’t know about that.

~Max reaches the top. He looks down at the prone James Raven. Max holds up his lesser arm…the fans chant “DO IT!” Max positions his body and leaps off with every ounce of strength he has in his legs. He achieves tremendous height…more so than usual. As soon as he takes off, however, Raven performs a frighteningly athletic kip up. His quickness is confirmed as the minute he gets to his feet he jumps into the air and catches Max on the way down, spinning at the apex of the connection, twisting Max around and dropping him with FLIGHT OF THE RAVEN! Fort OCW is stunned! They are shocked! What the hell just happened? Raven is lying on top of Max for the pin…Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is the winner of the Scott Syren Bracket…JAMES RAVEN!!!!!

Smith: Unbelievable…simply unbelievable.

Hood: THAT’S why the man’s a legend, Smith.

Smith: How…how did he do that?

Hood: BECAUSE HE’S A LEGEND!

Smith: I don’t…I just don’t know, Hood. Can Raven be beaten?

Hood: We’re going to find out…he’s got Biff next.

Smith: Poor Max…poor, poor Max.

Hood: Hey, the kid did well. He fought with honor and all that jazz.

Smith: A bit perfunctory…but I agree, Max has nothing to be ashamed of. Disappointed, sure…but he should swell with pride once the sting of the loss goes away.

Hood: He may not have two giant arms but the kid’s got talent and heart. He’s a keeper.

Smith: Indeed.

~Bester is walking through the backstage area looking sad. It looks like he was crying not too long ago, his cheeks are red and his eyes still look watery. His shoulders are slung low and he’s looking down at the floor as he slowly slides his feet along the floor down on his luck. Even the smiley face on his t shirt looks sad.~

~Who’re is by her interview area touching up her makeup as Block Party is going on and it’s been a busy night. She spots Bester.~

Who’re: Bester? Sweetie? You okay?

~Bester stops where he is and by turning his upper half of his body, he looks at Who’re and can’t help but get all teary eyed once again. Tears stream down his cheeks. Who’re drops her compact and rushes over to Bester.~

Who’re: Oh my god! What’s going on?

~Bester throws his arms around Who’re and hugs her much to Who’re’s surprise.~

Bester: I don’t know what I did! Miss Who Are! Miss Baxter just hates me!

~Bester than starts a full out balling on Who’re’s shoulder. Who’re places her hands on his back and rubs his back and starts to slowly rock him side to side like you would a small kid who is sad and crying.~

Who’re: Shhhhh. It’s okay Best. It’s okay. Now tell me what happened? Start at the beginning

Bester: You know how I have been hanging out with Miss Baxter?

Who’re: Yes, everyone knows.

Bester: She is like, my bestest friend here in OCW. She like, doesn’t pick on me. She doesn’t like, treat me like I rode a blue bus in school. Miss Baxter is the only one here who got to know me.

Who’re: Okay?

Bester: And even though I don’t understand the whole situation with Miss Valentine, and we are forced to share a locker room, I got to know Miss Baxter somewhat and she got to know me. I really thought we were friends. We went out to a Rave last week. We danced all night long. It was fun.

Who’re: And?

Bester: I just saw Miss Baxter. I didn’t hear from her all week. Like, not one text, not one phone call or anything. Maybe she wrote me a letter and the mailman hasn’t delivered it yet, I’m not sure.

~Who’re pulls Bester away from her shoulder so she can look at him.~

Bester: So I wanted to say Hi because I somehow didn’t see Miss Baxter all weekend long here, at Little Bighorn.

~Cheap pop.~

Bester: I wanted to make sure she was okay. Was she sick? Did she break her leg? The flu? I don’t know. It wasn’t like her to not call or text me.

Who’re: Okay?

Bester: And like, she was really really really mad at me! She said I told Mister Jones about a voicemail she left me, but I never got a voicemail from her. Then she said that Mister Jones visited her in Miami at this hotel room she got and he was like, really cross with her and it’s all my fault.

Who’re: Wait? Hold on? Joe Jones went and saw Aubrey in Miami?

Bester: Yes. I don’t know how Mister Jones knew how Miss Baxter was there, or what hotel or what room she was in…

Who’re: Best? Do you think it’s possible that Joe took your phone and listened to your voicemail then deleted it?

~Blank stare from Bester.~

Who’re: Best. Where is your phone?

~Bester reaches in his pocket and pulls his phone out and hands it to Who’re. Who’re presses the button on the side of his Samsung S6 and the screen comes to life to reveal a pic of him and his beloved kitty Spartacus, cuddling for a selfie.~

Who’re: What’s your pin?

Bester: Oh, I don’t have a pin number. Just slide it to left to unlock it. It’s what all the cool kids are doing, just swipe to the left.

~Who’re looks up at Bester with a look on her face that can easily be translated to “Are you fucking kidding me?” She swipes her thumb along the bottom of the screen and she has unlocked his phone. Two seconds later, she is in his voicemail and in the trash can is the voicemail from Aubrey. Who’re holds his phone up as it plays, turning up the volume. Bester’s jaw drops.~

Bester: I looked in my voice mail! That wasn’t there!

Who’re: It was deleted Bester! Someone, most likely Joe, listened to your messages when you weren’t looking and deleted it, then went and had a talk with Aubrey in Miami.

Bester: Why would he do that?

Who’re: Most likely because he doesn’t like you hanging out with your new buddy.

~Bester looks at his phone in Who’re hand as the end of the Aubrey’s voicemail to him finishes up. He looks at Who’re. Looks at his phone. Looks at Who’re. Looks at his phone.~

Bester: Son of a bitch!

~It is now Who’re who is shocked by Bester’s foul mouth.~

Bester: I’ll punch that bastard in the teeth!

~Bester balls up his fists. His face is still red, but not from crying. Because he is pissed. He storms off towards the locker rooms. Who’re quickly spins and snaps her fingers at the camera crew who is on break or something. Slackers.~

Who’re: Follow him! NOW!

~We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Bester may be child like at times...an innocence most of us haven't seen since the age of 12

Hood: Five

Smith: FIVE?

Hood: Yea man, I was a fucking casanova

Smith: Right...anyway, Bester may be naive but he's still a man. A huge, dangerous man...and he's angry.

Hood: Jones is fuuuuucked

~We cut back at the stage set up saloon where we see a bored looking AKB gulping down the last of his 4th Scotch. Alice talking anxiously mid story.~

Alice: ... And then the kid from Zimbabwe stood up in his chair, no shirt on and flies buzzing around him and said "Hey, I will eat it!" And honest to god, as I sit here today I swear he ate the dog terd! Too funny... too funny. But it's nice to do charity work sometimes, you know? It's like I only need three things to live. Air... Love... and... um... two. Two things is all I need.

AKB: Food? Water? Silence?

Alice: Ha! I get my resources from the wind... so my third would be wind, I guess. Unless air and wind are the same thing...? Probably are, right?

~AKB smacks his head on the table~

AKB: Where is the third guest? Stop making people wait for things. Mustard. Guests. I was in a tent with tons of cupcakes a few minutes ago...then I had to hurry back here. What could we possibly be waiting on?!

Alice: My in ring wrestling return?

AKB: Whatever...

Alice: Good news, bud! I am coming back. And not just for one shot shows big pay day matches either. It's going to be great... but seriously... so who wins the Block Party tournament? James Raven? Or James Raven?

Voice: Good question...

~A man appears from the shadows of the saloon. AKB turns his tape recorder on and looks in the direction of the voice. Alice stands up curtsies as the man approaches.~

Alice: I give you... Billy Zane!

~A bald, very bald, Billy Zane walks up to Alice and kisses her on the hand. AKB looks stunned. Not in a good way.~

AKB: Alice... the show is long enough as it is. How is Billy Zane relevant to tonight's Block Party pay per view?

Alice: Um, he is the bad guy in boat movies? And his fee fit the budget? Plus I'm a huge fan of his! Have you see Titanic or Dead Calm... or another boat movie probably? He's good.

Billy Zane: Real good. I'll have my three beers and cold cut sandwich now, Miss Knight.

Alice: BAR KEEP!

~ Suddenly the construction paper backdrop of the saloon set is torn apart as the 6'11 sized monster, Myst appears. He starts big booting and punching several bar patrons sitting around. He rushes up to the Hot Supper for 3 table where scared to death AKB is hiding behind a frightened Alice Knight. They watch as Billy Zane stands looking up at the giant Myst.~

Billy Zane: So what are you supposed to be? A TOUGH guy!?

Alice: Please come here Billy...

~ Myst grabs Billy Zane by the throat and lifts him up, holding him in the air for a few seconds while he squirms before choke slamming him through the table. Myst grunts as he looks at Alice and AKB before walking away past the camera crew. Alice rushes to Zane and checks on him glaring tensely at Myst walking away.~

Smith: Alice is returning! YES! YES!

Hood: Fuck this shit...why didn't Myst chokeslam Alice? WHY IS SHE CONSTANTLY DODGING DEATH? IT'S AROUND HER ALL THE TIME YET SHE NEVER, EVER FUCKING DIES!

Smith: It would be a worldwide tragedy if something happened to our Alice.

Hood: Whoa! She's not MY Alice. You go ahead and slit 'our' throat and give birth to a fucking my.

Smith: Like it or not Alice Knight is the heart and soul of this company. She's what OCW is all about and I for one hope she never, ever leaves.

Hood: Hey, I'd LOVE for her to leave. But I never get what I want so I'm sure she's here 4 LYFE

Smith: Alright folks...we've officially reached the midpoint of our in ring programming...it's time for our first championship bout of the evening! Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas defeated Lurrr and PerZag at Social Justice to retain their OCW Tag Titles. That same night Team ATARI defeated The Pretty Committee and the team of Jason Kortare and Jackson Black to ear a shot at the tag belts...tonight, they receive that very shot. Let's head down to ringside for what should be a great tag team match!

OCW Tag Team Championship
Wrekkking Kkkrew © (3-0) vs. Team ATARI (2-1)

~The fans inside Fort OCW are ravenous! It’s a comfortable day in Montana as OCW continues to put on one hell of a show. Belvedere stands in the ring, in his usual get up. This man is a true professional who refuses…REFUSES to dress down. He looks around, clearing his throat. The fans go wild. People seated nearest the ring reach over and slap the wooden posts that comprise the barrier between the fans and the ring~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall, and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championship!! Introducing first….

~2001: A Space Odyssey starts to play within the fort. We must admit, hearing this music played within this atmosphere is kinda strange. But, hey…CLASSIC OCW, BABY. The fans begin to chant “ATARI!” Two, giant wooden doors are pulled open, creating a loud creak that is heard in spite of the music and chants. Once the doors are opened, we see a cloud of smoke. Within the cloud of smoke stand two of OCW’s greatest heroes…2600 and 7800! Flashback 2 stands between them, hands on her hips. 2600 looks to his right…7800 looks to his left. Flashback 2 points toward the ring. Team ATARI takes off, sprinting toward the ring and slide in under the ropes, the ring post between them. They pop to their feet and head for separate corners, climbing to the middle rope and looking out into the crowd. Flashback 2 reaches ringside and climbs up the steps, entering through the ropes~

Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 398lbs…2600…7800…Team ATARI!!!!

~The fans continue to go wild for the two enigmatic heroes…aliens…take your pick, we’ll simply refer to them as FAN FAVORITES. They continue to take in the praise while scanning the crowd for any Yamauchi Scum. They don’t have to look far…“Needle and the Spoon” by Lynyrd Skynyrd hits. The crowd instantly begins to boo. The song is different, though…it sounds like it’s been remixed with “Where The Hood At” by DMX~

Smith: A new song for Vargas and Grenier?

Hood: Strange remix…but, hey, whatever works.

Belvedere: And, their opponents…

~The wooden doors creak open to reveal men on all fours. They appear bound and gagged. Behind them is a wagon. It isn’t covered. It’s not very big. It’s merely big enough to carry two men, three if they were built like [censored]’s. Seated atop the wagon is, well…~

Smith: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Hood: Yikes

Smith: Cut away, please!

~Chad Vargas and Bob Grenier are seated atop this wagon dressed in white sheets with white hoods. Vargas stands up and cracks a whip. The four men begin to crawl, pulling the wagon toward the ring. This, of course, garners TREMENDOUS HEAT. We can’t really tell how Vargas and Grenier are reacting because their faces are covered, but we’re pretty sure they are laughing. The wagon reaches the ring. Vargas and Grenier disembark. They throw a few kicks at the men forced to pull their wagon toward the ring. Vargas yells “GET OUT OF MY WAY, BOY!” Grenier lets out a laugh before reaching the ring, hopping up onto the apron and climbing in through the ropes. Vargas hustles up the steps, climbs to the middle buckle on the outside and looks out into the crowd. The fans boo. They chant ‘FUCKING RACIST!’~

Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 462lbs…they are the OCW Tag Team Champions…Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas… Wrekkking Kkkrew!!!!

~Vargas and Grenier promptly remove their hoods, tossing them into the crowd. The fans grab the hoods and rip them apart, spitting on the fabric before throwing them back into the ringside area…they land in the dirt. 7800 and 2600 watch all of this from their corner. Flashback 2 remains in between them, shaking her head in disbelief over what’s transpired. Grenier and Vargas remove their white cloaks, dropping them over the top rope, to the ground. They begin to remove their tag titles~

Smith: Folks I sincerely apologize for this imagery. These two men are disgusting.

Hood: Yea this is a big much. I think they might be taking this act a bit far.

~Belvedere takes the tag titles and exits the ring. Scruff looks to call for the bell. Before he can, a dark laugh echoes across the arena. Belvedere and both pairs of competitors look around the fort, a bit confused~

Smith: We know that laugh...

Hood: We do. I'm sure if the sun weren't up, the lights would be cutting to black.

Smith: I guess these competitors should consider themselves lucky.

~A deep bell is heard through the sound system as a slower, darker version of "For Whom the Bell Tolls" begins to play...~

~After a moment, fog begins to creep out between the cracks around the two entrance doors. Another moment passes, and the doors slowly begin to open. Heavy fog spills into the arena, as three men wearing black hoods and cloaks slowly walk through the doors. As the music continues to play, the three cloaked figures make their away around the ring, positioning themselves on each side of the ring except for the one facing the entrance. Vargas, Grenier, and Team Atari all look a little perturbed, eyeing the three cloaked figures~

Smith: This doesn't bode well for our tag champions and their challengers here.

Hood: I have to agree. This is creepy. At least there's no jagermeister involved. Yet, anyway.

~More smoke flows through the entrance, as another cloaked figure slowly enters. We recognize the way he walks. He is the Jager Bomber. Behind him, Deangelo Vickers comes out. He wears a black suit, with a dark green shirt underneath. He walks alongside the Jager Bomber, slightly hunched over. He looks around at the crowd, as well as the competitors in the ring~

Vickers: You have all been warned! I tried to help you! I came here to make OCW a better place! But you rejected me! You rejected all of us!

~Everyone is visibly confused. Team Atari stare blankly at Vickers and the Jager Bomber, while Grenier and Vargas look at each other in disbelief~

Vickers: So he's hand picked us, each one of us here, to take up arms and fight back! Each one of us has been scorned and mocked!

~Vickers looks back at the Jager Bomber~

Vickers: And now, we all serve him! We are his army!

~The three cloaked figures around the ring all pull back their hoods and drop their cloaks: JAM G, Shootah, and Tony the Spider. They all wear their usual garb, except they are all in shades of green~

Smith: Oh God... Tony the Spider, Shootah, and JAM G! Victims of the Jager Bomber!

Hood: I wouldn't say victims. He's recruited them!

~Vickers kneels in front of the Jager Bomber~

Vickers: Once a pure man, our master has learned how cruel this world can be. He as once a hero, but now he must destroy this precious organization... He will unleash his vengeance upon all of you!

~The Jager Bomber raises his hands to his hood, pulling it back and revealing himself~

Smith: Oh... My... God...

Hood: You've got to be shitting me...

Smith: THE UBER MAN!

~The Uber Man, thought to be dead, reveals himself as the Jager Bomber. The crowd erupts into cheers at their once beloved hero, but the Uber Man looks angry at the cheers~

Uber Man: No! Stop! Don't! I'm not a good guy! I'm evil now!

~The crowd quiets down, not really sure what to say. Team Atari looks confused, while Vargas and Grenier are chuckling among themselves~

Uber Man: And I've spread my evilness to these souls you see before you! I rule them now! They serve me! They serve as my dark ministry... My Ministry of Parkness!

Smith: ...what....

Hood: He drives an Uber... He parks...

Smith: Oh Lord...

Uber Man: I am no longer the Uber Man. For I am now something different... Something darker... I am... The UBERTAKER!!!

~The crowd gives mixed reactions: Some cheer loudly, and some just laugh. Either way, the Ubertaker is not satisfied~

Ubertaker: And I'm here tonight to show the world how evil we can be! To show you how dark we are! And first, we'll start with this tag team division! The four of you can all BURN IN HECK!!!

~The Ubertaker drops his cloak and charges the ring. JAM G, Shootah, and Tony the Spider immediately enter the ring. The competitors are startled at first, but it doesn't last long: 2600 and 7800 hit JAM G with a hard double dropkick, sending him through the ropes and falling outside the ring. Vargas immediately hits Tony the Spider with a hard clothesline, sending him to the mat. Vargas follows up by stomping him until he rolls out of the ring. Grenier simply grabs Shootah by the back of his neck and hurls him over the top rope. The Uber Man... ahem... Ubertaker stops before he enters the ring, seeing his minions being dispatches rather quickly. He nervously backs up~

Ubertaker: You haven't seen the last of us! We are here to rule over all of you!

~Ubertaker, Tony the Spider, JAM G, and Shootah all retreat through the wooden doors. Vickers follows them, shouting frantically at the crowd~

Vickers: You will all suffer! You'll see!

~The Ministry of Parkness disappears outside the doors, and they quickly close~

Hood: What the fuck just happened?

Smith: It seems as though the Uber Man has returned from the dead, now calling himself the Ubertaker.

Hood: Is that supposed to be like a play on-

Smith: Yes. Let it go.

~Vargas, Grenier, and Team Atari seem equally confused. None of them have even broke a sweat during the strange moment. They all look at Scruff. Scruff nods and signals for the bell. The bell rings~

Smith: With that out of the way... Here we go.

~Vargas and Grenier look at one another, deciding who should go first. Flashback 2 is rallying Team ATARI. She’s firing them up with words of wisdom. Finally, 7800 can take no more. He yells out “DILLY! DILLY!” and charges toward Vargas and Grenier. He leaps into the air squashing them both in their corner!!! Grenier is in front with Vargas behind him. 2600 charges forward and dives ahead with a spear!!! The crowd goes wild!! Flashback exits the ring, cheering her team on from the outside. 7800 charges forward…2600 ducks and lifts 7800 into the air with a back body drop…he crushes both Bob and Chad into their corner!! The fans get even louder! “ATARI! ATARI!”~

Smith: Team ATARI is on fire!

Hood: Okay, okay we get it…the entrance was offensive. You guys can stop hurting the legends now.

Smith: I beg to differ! It’s time Grenier and Vargas were taught a lesson!

~7800 pops back to his feet and faces 2600. He leaps into the air, placing his feet into 2600’s abdomen…he falls back, throwing 2600 through the air with a monkey flip!!! 2600 crushes Grenier and Vargas in very much the same way 7800 did moments earlier! Both members of Team ATARI are on their feet, along with the crowd. Scruff leans back, looking very at ease with the proceedings~

Hood: Don’t just stand there, Scruff! Step in! Do some refereeing!

Smith: I think he’s just fine with watching Vargas and Grenier get what they deserve.

Hood: But this is cheating!

~7800 and 2600 lock arms…they spin around…2600 tosses 7800 toward the corner. 7800 soars through the air, crushing both Vargas and Grenier with a big splash. 2600 coils and charges ahead…7800 moves out of the way. 2600 leaps into the air and drills the tag champions with a dropkick!!! The fans continue to go wild. Grenier finally falls to his knees. He holds his arms up as if to say ‘NO MORE!’ Vargas leans forward and falls on top of Grenier, his head and arms hanging toward the mat over Grenier’s left shoulder. 7800 charges ahead, smacking Grenier in the face with a knee lift!! Grenier falls backward…Vargas winds up on top of Grenier…they’re in a very precarious position…looks almost like a number nestled between 68 and 70~

Smith: Oh my!

Hood: No homo! NO HOMO

Smith: They won’t be happy about this…once they regain consciousness.

~Vargas apparently gets a whiff of something less than savory. His nose wrinkles. His eyes open and they spot a giant, Canadian bulge. It takes Chad a few moments before realization hits like a splash of ice cold water in the face. He freaks out, struggling to his feet. Grenier remains on his back, he reaches down, scratching his crotch. Chad turns around, locating Team ATARI. They charge forward and dump The Confederate Icon out of the ring via a double clothesline! He flips over the top rope and lands on the dirt surface outside the ring! 2600 grabs Grenier by the hair, pulling him to his feet~

Smith: Team ATARI is in total control! We might see this one end earlier than excpected!

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING!

Smith: The team of Vargas and Grenier have yet to find their footing in this one.

Hood: Yea because the fucking ref redefines the term incompetent.

~2600 points toward the ropes! 7800 leaps over the top rope, landing on the apron. The fans chant “YES! YES!”~

Smith: Team ATARI is looking to hit Pac it in Man!

Hood: Talk about No Homo

Smith: Can we move past this no homo stuff?

Hood: Hey I’m not the one throwing around all the stuff requiring the no homo clarification.

~7800 is poised, on the apron. 2600 hoists Grenier up! It’s something of a struggle. Dead weight isn’t the easiest weight in the world to procure. But, he gets Grenier in the tombstone position. 7800 leaps up, onto the top rope. He springboards off! As he does, Grenier wiggles his legs and REVERSES the position! 7800 performs a front flip, coming down and helping Grenier smash 2600 head first into the mat with Pac it in Man (Meltzer Driver)!!! The fans are shocked! 7800 pops to his feet, unaware. Flashback 2 yells and points. He turns and sees 2600 down with Grenier seated up, smiling. 7800 cries out ‘DILLY! DILLY!’~

Smith: Grenier reversed the position and 2600 suffered Pac it in Man!

Hood: Haha, yes! That’s what you get for cheating you stupid alien weirdos!

Smith: This is terrible! All that momentum gone in an instant.

Hood: That’s why Vargas and Grenier are legends, Smith.

~7800 bends over to check on 2600. This gives Grenier enough time to rise. 7800 looks up at Grenier and screams “DILLY! DILLY!” He charges at Bob…Bob ducks and hoists 7800 onto his shoulders. 7800 wiggles, trying to get free…he manages to get Grenier to stumble near the ropes. 7800 snares the top rope. Grenier tosses him over, onto the apron. 7800 throws a kick. Grenier ducks. 7800’s back is to Bob. Bob throws a big boot into the back of 7800’s head! He flies off the apron landing in the dirt, roughly. Flashback 2 hustles over to check on him. Grenier leans into the ropes, catching his breath. 2600 remains down~

Smith: Bob Grenier has single handidly turned this match around.

Hood: Grenier Kush is kicking in!

Smith: Team ATARI looked destined to unseat the tag champions but now…now it’s looking quite the opposite.

Hood: Yep, all Bob has to do is throw a few Canadian punches into 2600’s face and this one is over.

~Grenier straightens up and positions himself standing over 2600. 2600 rolls onto all fours, working to stand. Grenier throws a vicious kick into the back of 2600’s neck! 2600 flips over, holding his compressed neck in pain. Grenier takes his boot and jams it into 2600’s throat. Scruff rushes in, administering the five count. Meanwhile, on the outside, Vargas walks up to Flashback 2. He grabs her by the hair and throws her to the side. She tumbles through the Montana dirt. The fans boo. He doesn’t waste any time in pulling 7800 up, hoisting him over his shoulder and throwing him, like a spear as far as he can. 7800 flies several feet before landing on the dirt surface, front first. Vargas marches forward looking to continue his assault on the outside~

Smith: Momentum has completely shifted. The champions are in total control.

Hood: Yea, they let Team ATARI have their fun. But now…now it’s time for the true talent to shine through and emerge victorious.

Smith: Vargas shouldn’t put his hands on Flashback 2

Hood: Yea? Well maybe she shouldn’t be out there if she’s so fucking fragile.

~Vargas hooks 7800 by the waist on the outside. He deadlifts Mr. ‘Dilly! Dilly!’ and tosses him over his head with a German Suplex!! 7800 hits the dirt surface with a sickening THUD. He’s folded up, motionless. Vargas, sitting up in the dirt, smiles and wipes his hands free of dirt, sweat, and other forms of debris. He gets to his feet and heads around the ring, toward his team’s corner. While doing so, he spots one of the white cloaks he and Bob came out dressed in. He snares it and looks into the ring. Bob is now choking 2600, abusing the ‘five’ count rule by releasing at five only to reapply the choke a second later. Vargas turns around and goes back after 7800~

Smith: Where’s he going?!

Hood: Maybe 7800 is dead and he’s going to be respectful by covering his body with that sheet.

Smith: Yea, right

Hood: Or maybe he sensed 7800 was cold when he picked him up and is giving him something to provide warmth.

Smith: I doubt it.

~Vargas takes his boot and places it under the back of 7800’s neck. He sits 7800 upright and wraps the white cloack around 7800’s throat. He places his knee into 7800’s back and rears backward, choking 7800!! The fans boo! The muscles in Chad’s arms are tight and tense, it’s clear he’s trying to choke 7800 unconscious. Back inside the ring Grenier looks down at 2600. The more comprehensible member of Team ATARI is flat on his back, barely moving. Bob runs his fingers through his sticky, greasy blonde hair and flicks whatever’s stuck to his hands at 2600. He bends over and wraps his hand around 2600’s throat, pulling him to his feet. He throws 2600 into a corner with just his hand. Bob stalks the corner, approaching 2600. He throws lefts and rights into 2600’s head and body. 2600 leans into Bob…Bob hugs 2600, spins around and drops him with a belly-to-belly suplex!! Bob remains on top of 2600 for the pin~

1!

2!

Shoulder Up!

Smith: Team ATARI stays alive!

Hood: Fuckin idiots. If they truly want to survive they’ll let Bob get that three count.

Smith: It’s looking bleak, no doubt. Bob and Chad are imposing their will on this up and coming tandem.

~7800 almost looks like he’s entering a state of rigamortis. Vargas looks out into the crowd and yells “KING KONG AIN’T GOT SHIT ON…” His eyes turn inward!!! He loses his grip and falls to the side! Standing behind him is Flashback 2!! It becomes apparent she kicked him right in the balls. Flashback 2 rushes forward, checking on 7800. She’s frantically trying to revive him. Grenier is back on his feet, looking down at 2600. He’s mocking 2600…talking shit about aliens and conspiracy theories and tamaguchi scum~

Smith: Bob has ZERO respect for Team ATARI.

Hood: Why should he respect them? Bob’s done it all…these guys are just…man, they’re fucking jokes.

Smith: They are not jokes! They are the #1 contenders and if Bob and Chad don’t start taking them seriously they could very well become our brand new Tag Team Champions!

~Bob turns and sees Flashback 2 trying to revive 7800. He leans over the ropes and laughs…he yells out in a very derogatory manner “DILLY! DILLY! HAHA! DILLY! DILLY!” Suddenly, 7800’s eyes flash open!! Flashback 2 stands and backs away. His body shakes…he kips up!! He looks at Grenier! The fans go wild! Grenier stumbles back, nonplussed. 7800 points at Grenier…the fans chant “YOU!!!” Grenier backs up. 2600 returns to his feet! He leaps up and takes Bob over with an Inverted Hurricanrana!!! The crowd is on their feet jumping up and down!! Flashback 2 claps and urges 7800 to rush the ring. 7800 yells ‘DILLY! DILLY!’ He sprints toward the ring and leaps onto the apron in his team’s corner~

Smith: Team ATARI is pissed off!

Hood: What the fuck is this shit?! Chad! Get up! C’mon, Bob! Fight back!

~2600 tags 7800!! The fans are going wild!! 2600 turns to find a punch drunk Grenier, staggering around. 2600 lifts Bob up and turns around, holding Bob in Tombstone position. 7800 jumps up, he springboards off the top rope, somersaults into the air and comes down helping 2600 drive Bob’s head into the mat with Pac it in Man!!!! The crowd is on FIRE!!! 7800 pins Grenier while 2600 patrols the ropes! Scruff slides in with the fans counting along~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings! The entire state of Montana goes crazy!~

Belvedere: Here are your winners…AND NEW OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…TEAM ATARI!!!!!

Smith: They did it! New champs!

Hood: SON OF A SLUT!

Smith: The tyrannical tag reign of Bob and Chad is OVER. Finally tag team champions we can be proud of!

Hood: Speak for your fucking self.

~Bob powders out of the ring. He stumbles to the back…Chad joins him. They appear wounded in every sense of the word. Their ‘garments’ are picked up and thrown away by OCW officials. Flashback 2 gets into the ring with the belts. She holds them up and hugs 2600 and 7800!! The trio celebrate with a euphoric embrace~

Smith: Yes! Way to go, Team ATARI!

Hood: So fucking lame

~People in the crowd scream. The celebration comes to a halt. SWAT members rush in with guns drawn! Flashback 2 looks around, nervous. 2600 and 7800 surround her, fists up~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Alright! Welsh send these guys? I knew he couldn’t stand for Team ATARI to hold those belts.

Smith: I don’t think he has that type of power yet.

~The SWAT Members slowly approach the ring, looking to handle Team ATARI. The trio are outnumbered. 7800 says “Dilly Dilly”. 2600 holds onto him, trying to keep him at their side. Flashback 2's hair starts to fly around. The trio look up as a BLACKHAWK helicopter descends. A ladder drops in front of them. 7800 yells ‘DILLY! DILLY!’ The SWAT members rush the ring! The three members of Team ATARI grab the ladder. Flashback 2 is the first…she rushes up, giving the members of Team ATARI room. They snare the bottom rung. SWAT is about to crush them. The Blackhawk takes off, quickly with Team ATARI hanging from the ladder, holding their belts high. The fans look on in awe~

Smith: They are getting out of here!

Hood: I’d say I wish I could join them but then, ya know, that would mean I’d have to actually spend time with them.

~The SWAT Members appear frustrated. A signal comes in over the leader’s communication device. He throws some hand signals up. The SWAT team exits the ring and sprints out of the OCW Arena presumably in pursuit of Team ATARI. And, as quickly as it happened…everything returns to normal~

Smith: I don’t know what kind of business Team ATARI is caught up in but I hope it does not interfere with their Tag Title reign.

Hood: They are obviously hardcore criminals. They likely don’t pay taxes, jay walk, chew gum in class…scum of the earth type shit.

Smith: I wouldn’t want to speculate…all I know is that these fans love them and they are your NEW Tag Team Champions!

---

---

~The uneventful lull in-between OCW matches – even PPV ones – is disrupted when a lone figure bursts through the fort's fan entrance and begins to make her way around the wooden bleachers, headed for ringside. The crowd pops at the sight of her, stragglers making room for her to pass. Those who took this exact opportunity to purchase food or merchandise must surely begin to regret their decision when they hear the fans inside the fort going nuts, and one can only assume they are quick to make their way back to their seats, hoping to still make it in time to see what the commotion is about.

Those that do make it back quickly have their answer – for the figure who is now so determinedly making their way to ringside is none other than upcoming Paradigm title challenger, and all-round no-fucks-giver, Hayley 'The Raven' Robinson. The redneck blonde halts her march only to stare at a familiar hooded fan sitting in the front row, giving him a quizzical and appraising look, before quickly jumping over the ringside barricade.~

Smith: That's...that's Hayley the Raven! She's not booked here tonight, but I guess she's decided to make an appearance anyway!

Hood: Well, this isn't the trailer park. She can't just turn up like this. She needs to be kicked out and sent packing! Teach her a lesson!

~Venue security, who had been poised to stop and grab the youngster, choose however to do the exact opposite, standing aside as they see who the barricade-jumper is. They opt instead to leave Hayley with an open path to the squared circle. The blonde is quick to take advantage of this, gesturing towards a nearby ring technician for a microphone as she vaults over the first two ring steps and holds onto the corner post for balance. A moment later, she is inside the ring, weapon cocked, loaded and ready to shoot. Which she promptly does.~

Hayley Robinson: Y'all gon' have to try harder'n' that to keep my ass off a goddamn Pay-Per-View...

~A wild cheer from the crowd greets these words, with only Hood at the announce table being less impressed~

Hood: Well, you're still not getting paid, so what the hell's the point?

Smith: ...you wouldn't get it, Hood.

~In the ring, oblivious to this exchange, Hayley quickly continues~

Hayley Robinson: That's right. I'm here an' I'm damn well ready to go! I ain't need to have my name on no poster to be ready for a fight! An' way I see it, they's somebody out back I done got some unfinished bid'niz with...

~Hayley glares towards the wooden doors, as the fans begin to catch onto the real reason for her presence here tonight, and show their approval with an increasingly enthusiastic cheer. It is over this that Hayley has to make herself heard as she adds~

Hayley Robinson: So Kitty...or is that Pussy?.. get y'all bitch ass down here an' come get some! Fuck what the goddamn poster say! Fuck goin' overtime! We doin' this right the fuck now! So c'mon out here an' come at me, fam!

~With that, Hayley casts yet another defiant look towards the double doors, as an entire arena holds its collective breath in anticipation. Absolute silence reigns for about twenty seconds~

Smith: There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. A challenge has been laid down by our young contender here!

Hood: Can she even do that?!

~"I Am The Fire" by Halestorm explodes over the speakers, as expected. The lights dim in anticipation of the arrival of the Paradigm Champion and the crowd starts to boo in time with the expensive light show. After nearly a minute, it's clear that she isn't going to appear. Hayley looks disgusted and then the screen lights up as the music cuts off abruptly with the unmistakable sound of a needle being pulled off a record. The no-show has obviously been planned and the camera finds Kitty standing beside the cotton candy vendor, daintily eating a piece of spun sugar. She's wearing that dusty rose cowboy hat she's been sporting all week on social media because of course she is. There's a devilish smirk in place on her lips as she regards her challenger as she slowly licks her fingers after finishing her treat, theatrically rolling her eyes before the scornful words drop from her lips~

Kitty Petrova: Such reckless disregard. I'm disappointed, Hellraven. I guess your association with that Szalinski bitch has rubbed off in the worst possible way.

~Another eye roll comes, followed by a sigh. The camera pans out slightly to show that Kitty is indeed wearing that suede-fringed halter top but she's paired it with a pair of skin-tight black leather pants rather than the skirt from her social media photos. A few fans walk by in the background, trying to get themselves on camera but Kitty completely ignores them~

Kitty Petrova: I expected more from you than this 'High Noon at the OK Corral' nonsense. Tonight is about the eMpire taking what they rightfully deserve. It's about the Gold Rush Gang but moreover, it's about the conclusion of that tournament that you washed out of-

~As Hayley opens her mouth to interject and the fans inside the fort voice their loud opinion on the matter, Kitty shakes her head and holds up a finger.~

Kitty Petrova: Let me finish, you rude little bitch. You can't blame me for that one, as much as you want to trot out another excuse. You'd already flushed that opportunity down the toilet all on your own, before I even lifted a finger against you. This isn't your night either and as much as you want to think you have the clout to snap your fingers and demand an accelerated timetable for your assisted suicide – sadly, sweetie, you don't. Patience is a virtue that's lost on the likes of you, much like intelligence and elocution. My Fair Hellraven... you're in over your head. You can't bring a switchblade to a battle of wits.

~The Paradigm Champion chuckles, shaking her head even as the crowd again breaks into loud booing~

Kitty Petrova: Sorry. I should keep it lowbrow, hmmm? You're stupid, Hayley. Foolish AND foolhardy. Make no mistake: I will tear you apart... leave nothing but a broken mess – well, more broken than this, anyhow. It's clear that I've already whittled away your sanity. I'm going to break you and then Michael is going to end your joke of a career. You've got two more weeks until your entire universe vanishes. Use them wisely. Buh-bye now, Felicia.

~Kitty lifts her hand into view and snaps her fingers; she doesn't have Mike Best's Infinity gauntlet on but the screen goes dark on command just the same. No sooner has Kitty disappeared from the screen that Hayley takes off running, sliding out of the ring and pelting through the double doors that barely open in time for her. A huffing cameraman is just about able to keep up with her as she disappears through the wrestler entrance, thus managing to relay 'backstage' footage to an astounded and increasingly appreciative audience. She passes talent and employees alike, dodging and diving like a bat out of hell before she makes it past another barricade with an impressive vault.~

Hood: Now what's she doing?!

Smith: I think...yes...she's looking...she's looking for Kitty!

~That is, indeed, what the young blonde appears to be doing, seeing as how she's making her way through the chintzy fair, heading directly for the concession booths. Her face, lit up with hopeful anticipation as she enters the area, is however quickly awash with a look of disappointment as the space next to the cotton candy vendor proves to be empty. There's a discarded rainbow-striped paper cone on the ground that could have belonged to anyone. Kitty Petrova may have passed through at one point, but she appears to have since moved on.

Her face now sombre with frustration, Hayley quickly turns away and begins to walk back towards the fort, as the fans watching on the screen sound their sympathy with a collective groan. The young blonde has not walked more than three steps, barely making it past the candy apple red popcorn booth that's really an old converted Pioneer wagon, when she's clubbed like a baby seal from behind. A Louisville slugger baseball bat clatters to the grass, broken from the impact and freshly decorated with a smear of blood. Hayley crumples without a sound, landing in a muddy puddle that's had most of the water absorbed with scattered sawdust. Kitty's knee lands in the middle of her back, the impact driving the air from her lungs and the Paradigm Champion takes the opportunity to smash the stunned Hayley's face into the mud repeatedly, leaving her a barely responsive and bloody mess. Grinning sadistically, Kitty grabs a handful of her challenger's hair and pulls her head up, showing off Hayley's bloodied and muddied face for all to see. She leans in close, hissing in Hayley's ear, her final words caught by the camera easily enough~

Kitty Petrova: Fuck you. I win. I always win.

~We focus back on Smith and Hood~

Smith: Hayley's got a date with Kitty and it's coming soon. The question is...can she rise to the occasion and unseat the Paradigm Champion?

Hood: No.

Smith: Care to expound?

Hood: Ugh, if I must. Look, Kitty Petrova is an absolute beast. The only reason she isn't on tonight's show is because she chose to sit it out. Had she entered Block Party, she would have won. Had she thrown her name in the hat to compete in the Process of Elimination match for OCW instead of aligning with Best, she'd be walking out OCW Champion. She's THAT fucking good.

Smith: Wow, big time endorsement.

Hood: Look, I don't hate women. I just hate stupid women. And, sadly, alot of women are pretty fucking stupid.

Smith: Wow...and on that note let's cut backstage before we begin the quarterfinals.

~We cut to the outside area near the tents and trailers for all OCW personnel. Welsh is walking down a beaten path with Cap Slock alongside~

Marcus Welsh: Alright, now I know my return to GM doesn’t officially start until tomorrow but I figured we’d go ahead and get a jump on some shit. For starters, that segment…did you see it? That shit was FIRE. Kitty is money. I want that match scheduled ASAP. How’s next week look?

Cap Slock: WELL SIR IT APPEARS AS THOUGH YOU’RE SCHEDULED TO BE OUT OF TOWN ALL WEEKEND. I THINK YOU LIKE TO BOOK ‘LIGHT’ SHOWS FOR SUCH OCCASIONS.

Marcus Welsh: Hm, yea, you’re right…alright if not next week then definitely on May 13th. We need a title defense every week on Massacre until each title has been defended. I’m talking Craze, Paradigm, Savage, Tag AND OCW. These champions have got to defend more.

Cap Slock: A FINE PROPOSITION SIR.

~They approach a tent with a red cross on the side~

Marcus Welsh: Let’s see…Andrea’s defending against Evin Empire. Whoever leaves as Savage Champion is going to have to defend against Ehud…we can thank Zybala for that bullshit. Kitty’s got Hayley. We’ll figure the OCW Title situation out later. And then the tag titles…Team ATARI…another Zybala masterpiece…who’s lined up for them?

Cap Slock: THE DRAVERS BOYS, I BELIEVE SIR.

~The booming voice of Cap Slock catches someone’s attention from inside the tent~

Voice: Welsh!!!

~Welsh comes to a halt. He freezes. He tries to quietly walk away, hoping it’ll work~

Voice: I know you’re out there, Welsh! Get your ass in this tent NOW!

~Welsh lowers his head and enters the tent. He finds Mike Zybala on the training table with a bag of ice pressed against his neck. Zybala doesn’t appear to be in the mood for games~

Mike Zybala: Not ONE word. You screwed me again, Welsh. You can be sure Buffett will hear about this. In the meantime, what’s done is done. But tonight I retain power. So I want you out of here, now.

Marcus Welsh: Mike, surely you can allow me to stay. I’m really enjoying the show!

~Zybala winces as he moves the bag of ice around~

Mike Zybala: Back at Death March you put plans in place to screw Paul Paras so Aidan Collins, your golden boy, would emerge as the winner. It was everything I could do to stop that from happening. I know you’re up to something similar tonight…

Marcus Welsh: Do you have proof of this…alleged offense?

Mike Zybala: If I had proof I’d show it. It’s a feeling…a feeling I get after having worked with you for over a year now. You’re not going to ruin the OCW Title match. And you’re damn sure not going to ruin the finals of Block Party. So I want you OUT of here NOW…

Marcus Welsh: Please, Mike, I promise

~Zybala hops off the training table, staring at Welsh. Welsh backs away in fear~

Mike Zybala: I may be hurting but I’m not too injured to superkick you right in the face, Welsh.

~Welsh swallows hard~

Marcus Welsh: Whatever you say, Mike. I’m gone.

~Welsh turns and exits the tent. Cap Slock remains. Zybala motions for the Captain to abscond from sight. Cap Slock does not hesitate. We cut back to ringside~

Smith: Thank you Zybala!

Hood: He won’t let Welsh enjoy the show? WHAT A DICK!

Smith: You know as well as I do that Welsh is up to something. Zybala is merely administering a preemptive strike to keep things on the up and up the rest of the evening.

Hood: Sounds like some weak ass booking, if you ask me.

Smith: Well nobody did! Anyway, it’s time we move forward! The quarterfinals are up next as Lurrr takes on Andrea Hernandez! The winner moves on to tonight’s Main Event!

Block Party SemiFinal
(2) Lurrr (4-1) vs. (3) Andrea Hernandez (12-3)

~A graphic appears on a big screen outside Fort OCW. It features the image of Lurrr and Andrea Hernandez!! The fans outside Fort OCW go crazy…they start chanting “ANDREA!” The fans inside react in kind. The semis are HERE. Belvedere stands in the ring looking pompous without a hint of arrogance – if that’s possible. He clears his throat to a huge ovation~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a semifinal match in the Block Party Tournament!!! Introducing first…

~"Ultranumb" by Blue Stahli hits! The fans rise to their feet as the groaning of two wooden doors pushed open signals the entrance of an OCW star! Andrea appears from behind the doors. Her head is bandaged due to a wound procured during her battle with Canon. She’s got the Craze Title over her shoulder. She looks around with determination before marching toward the ring. “ANDREA! ANDREA!” these fans are fully behind the rising star~

Belvedere: From Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former Paradigm Champion…she is the current Craze Champion…ladies and gentlemen…she is…Andrea Hernandez!!!

Smith: Andrea Hernandez, Hood!

Hood: Yes, I know…we saw her a few minutes ago.

Smith: She’s slayed Bob Grenier, Mario Maurako and now…Curt Canon. Can she slay perhaps the biggest one of them all…can she slay the venomous Lurrr?

Hood: I’m going to say…no?

GUESS WHO’S BACK

Smith: And we’re hearing that infamous music for the second time this evening!

Hood: Defeat this woman Lurrr so we can hear ‘GUESS WHO’S BACK’ one more time!

Smith: He defeated a very focused Stranger…now, he has a chance to compete against one of OCW’s best and brightest stars of the current era.

I used to be broke, confused..no joke
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now there's 10 million motherfuckers on my dick

~The two wooden doors creak open…they seem to do so with more anger than before. It’s almost as though the creak, if decoded, is saying “Fuck all of you.” Lurrr marches through the opening, sans Cowboy Hat. His right hand is taped. He’s in jeans and cowboy boots. His eyes are locked on the Craze Champion. He’s got the Hall of Fame Title around his waist.~

Belvedere: From Houston, Texas…he is a three-time OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is the original ICON of OCW…he is Lurrr!!!

Smith: Two champions about to wage war for the right to challenge OCW’s top star.

Hood: Take a good look at that Hall of Fame Championship, Andrea

Smith: Aww, that’s sweet of you to compliment her in such…

Hood: BECAUSE IT’S AS CLOSE AS YOU’LL EVER GET TO IT, BABE

Smith: HEY

~Belvedere takes the Craze Championship from Andrea. Lurrr removes his HOF title and hands it to Belvedere without making eye contact. He keeps his focus on Andrea. She picks up on his intensity and returns, in kind. The fans are buzzing. The chants for “ANDREA” remain. The more they chant for Andrea, the more focused Lurrr gets…this is his setting…this is what he thrives upon – being the shithead asshole dickhead bad guy….the crusher of dreams…the ruiner of teenage fantasy. The bell rings to a huge ovation~

Smith: And here we go!! C’mon, Andrea!

Hood: Kick her ass, Lurrr!

Smith: Andrea’s had to overcome so much to get here…she has to win tonight…she just has to!

Hood: Man, people these days…they compliment each other because a few derogatory statements didn’t drive them to suicide. What a weak ass population we’ve got growing beneath us, Smith. WEAK ASS GENERATION

~Lurrr walks up to Andrea. She doesn’t back down, meeting the original icon in the center of the ring. Lurrr cocks a half smile. Andrea offers up some bitter talk of the trash variety. Lurrr reaches back and bitch slaps Andrea with his left hand!! Andrea’s head jerks to the left. Her black hair flies, wildly through the air, covering her face. The fans gasp with horror. Andrea turns around, a burgeoning red mark on her right cheek. She smiles and asks Lurrr to do it again. Lurrr says “gladly.” He reaches back and throws another bitch slap…Andrea ducks!! Andrea drills Lurrr in the ribs with palm strikes! The Hall of Fame champion stumbles backward. Andrea is unleashed! Smack! Smack! Smack!! She’s doing a number on Lurrr’s midsection…he stumbles near a corner. He falls back into the corner. Andrea throws a high kick into Lurrr’s left side. She throws another, and another…the fans count along as Lurrr’s body slouches further and further with each stiff kick~

Smith: Yes! Go, Andrea! Make this sexist pig pay!

Hood: Whoa, easy there hoss…I think your political standing might be showing.

Smith: It has nothing to do with politics, Hood. It has everything to do with a person fighting their entire life to live out their dream!

~Lurrr finally drops to the mat due to Andrea’s punishment. He’s seated up against the bottom buckle as Andrea marches around the ring, locating the opposite corner. The fans are chanting “YES! YES!” Andrea points at Lurrr and charges forward, leaping into the air and crashing down onto Lurrr with a double knee stomp!!! Lurrr crawls forward out of the ring…an act that appears desperate in execution. Andrea runs after him, leaps up and drills Lurrr in the back with a double foot stomp, crushing him into the mat. She rolls the legend over and goes for the pin…the crowd is white hot! Scruff slides in with the pin~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Close but not quite!

Hood: It’s going to take more than that to keep Lurrr down.

Smith: Indeed…but you have to admire the passion!

Hood: I don’t have to admire shit.

~Andrea uses the momentum of Lurrr’s kick out to push him onto his front…she tries to lock her hands over his mouth, looking for a modified crossface…a version of the move that she used to tap out her father all those years ago. Lurrr, sensing some serious pain coming, rolls out of it and toward the ropes, eventually exiting the ring. The crowd boos. Andrea remains seated in the ring, frustrated she didn’t get it locked in quick enough. Lurrr powders on the outside, taking a walk, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. Andrea returns to her feet, keeping an eye on the aging veteran~

Smith: She’s got her eye on him, Hood. I know he may feel safe out there but it’s a false sense of security.

Hood: Or maybe Lurrr is LURING her out?

Smith: You never know…

~Andrea looks at Scruff, wondering why he hasn't started a count. Scruff seems oblivious to the world at the moment, looking up into the sky. Andrea shakes her head and mutters, as though it’s a curse, “Classic OCW…shake my damn head.” She charges toward the ropes and leaps over the top…Lurrr moves out of the way! Andrea, figuring this might happen, sticks the landing on the apron. Lurrr throws a lariat at her feet. She performs a backflip! The fans are wowed by her athleticism. Lurrr’s whiff sends him spinning around. Andrea leaps off the apron and takes Lurrr down with a moonsault!!! The fans go wild~

Smith: What athleticism shown by our Craze Champion! She truly deserves this moment and many many more!

Hood: Man if Lurrr doesn't get his shit together then he’s going let this match slip away.

Smith: Sometimes you get too far behind…making a comeback impossible.

~Andrea pops back to her feet…she’s showing a bit of discomfort from the move, but nothing abnormal. Lurrr is laying in the dirt, coughing and trying to figure out what the hell is going on. Andrea stomps on Lurrr’s midsection. She grabs him by the head and pulls him to his feet. She delivers a huge knife edged chop that sends the original icon swaying against the edge of the apron. She spins Lurrr around and looks to smash him, face first into the apron. Lurrr lifts his foot up and slams it atop Andrea’s! She yells in pain. He grabs Andrea by the hair and slams her face into the apron!!! The fans boo!!! Andrea turns and walks away, covering her face~

Smith: Oh no!! He slammed her wounded head into the apron!

Hood: Don’t say it like it’s some act of terrorism, Smith. She has a cut…ON THE HEAD…it’s a pretty common area of attack.

Smith: Defend that man, and his three r’s all you want! I still find it deplorable!

Hood: Fuck, I’d defend the guy if he had four…even FIVE rs!

Smith: You go too far.

~Lurrr leans against the apron, recovering from Andrea’s assault. A true veteran realizes timing is important. So, Lurrr understands he can’t stand there for too long. He turns around to find Andrea doubled over, holding her head. He runs up and delivers a downward elbow strike into the back of her neck!! Andrea cries out, arching her pain. Lurrr grabs her by the chin and reaches up with his wounded, right hand, ripping away at the bandaging to reveal a fairly nasty cut at the top of her forehead. He starts to rip at it, trying to reopen the wound~

Smith: Get him away from her! There’s no cause for this!

Hood: Uh, yes there is…the cause…the right…the DREAM of winning Block Party!

Smith: I’d like to think this sort of behavior is beneath a legend.

Hood: It’s this type of behavior that made the fucking guy a legend you dumbass

~Andrea throws a kick into Lurrr’s lower abdomen…we could go so far as to call it his groin. Lurrr backs away, grimacing. We get a good look at Andrea’s face as the wound has been reopened…if not enlarged. Blood starts to leak down her attractive facial features. Fans gasp, worried for her well being. Scruff, inside the ring, notices what’s going on and decides he might as well do his fucking job. So, he yells out “ONE!” Andrea reaches up, feeling the wound…she winces as it’s tender to the touch. But, she’s a warrior, and she realizes that tending to the wound…giving way to the wound would only lessen her shot at winning~

Smith: This is so unfortunate! She was on such a roll and then that…that terrible man had to open her wound.

Hood: The hazards of fighting more than once in an evening, Smith. Besides, don’t act like Lurrr is in pristine condition. His hand is fucked up and...ya know, aside from that…he’s also old as fuck.

Smith: Yes but his head doesn’t resemble a crimson Niagra Falls.

Hood: No, it does not.

~The red running down Andrea’s face creates anger within. She charges at Lurrr. Lurrr ducks, looking for a back body drop. Andrea flips over his back, landing on her feet. Lurrr turns around and eats a roundhouse kick!! He stumbles back, up against the steps. Andrea charges in with a spear…Lurrr MOVES! Andrea dives head first into the steel steps creating a sickening thud!! The fans in attendance shriek with horror. Lurrr, leaning against the apron laughs and points at his head as if to indicate he’s smarter. Scruff yells out “FIVE!” Lurrr bends over to pick Andrea up~

Smith: No! She might be finished, Hood.

Hood: Let’s hope so…we got any motorized scooters back there so she can get a churro later?

Smith: You are a disgusting man.

Hood: Not as disgusting as Andrea ‘Double Gash’ Hernandez.

Smith: Ah!

~Lurrr pulls Andrea up and rolls her into the ring. We see a trail of blood…resembling a trail of tears?? She winds up on her back, center of the ring. Lurrr thinks about springboarding off the top rope…but, that’s a young man’s game. So, he steps in through the ropes, leaps into the air and drops an elbow across Andrea’s throat. He makes a cover…Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP!

Smith: Yes! She got the shoulder up!

Hood: This woman won’t die! GO AWAY, ANDREA!

Smith: She’s here for the long haul, Hood!

~Lurrr remains on top of Andrea…he throws right hand after right hand into her wounded forehead. Andrea finally rolls over, to cover up. Lurrr looks down at his stained fist. He pops to his feet, wiping the hand against his jeans creating a dark red stain. He stomps on Andrea’s back. She refuses to roll over, survival instincts kicking in. Lurrr grabs Andrea by her jet black hair while placing a foot into her lower back…he yanks back as hard as he can, contorting her back at a very painful angle. Andrea yells out…Scruff counts to five, forcing Lurrr to release. The Hall of Fame champion paces around Andrea’s carcass, calculating his next move~

Smith: And now we’re seeing vintage Lurrr. He’s got Andrea subdued and in bad shape…it seems as though this one might be wrapped up.

Hood: Yep, he’s taking a preemptive victory lap right now…just letting the people and Andrea know that this is his home and he can do whatever he wants whenever he wants.

~Andrea struggles, trying to get to her feet. Lurrr leans against the ropes, watching her. He points at her and laughs. Her arms struggle against her weight…blood leaks from her head, into a pool which ripples atop the mat. Lurrr throws his arms in the air as if to say “oh for fuck’s sake!” He marches over, hooking Andrea around the waist, deadlifting her off the mat. He tosses Andrea over his head with a german suplex…but she lands on her feet! Lurrr extends his arms, feeling pretty proud. He turns around and eats a mule kick in the gut!! Lurrr’s feet slip on Andrea’s blood, causing him to fall to his knees. Andrea runs forward and smacks him in the head with a shining wizard!!! Lurrr falls to his side!! Andrea remains down!! The crowd goes wild~

Smith: She’s back in it!

Hood: She’s worse than Jason fucking Voorhees. KILL THIS BITCH

Smith: The heart of a champion beats within Andrea’s chest!

Hood: It is a voluptuous chest.

~Lurrr’s eyes blink open…they display that “what the fuck just happened” look. Andrea performs a struggling push up, reaching her knees while Lurrr tires to sit up. She gets to her feet and feels around her head, finding more blood. She wipes it across her chest and looks at Lurrr, yelling. Lurrr sits up…Andrea hits the ropes, bounces off and flies through the air with a knee into Lurrr’s face!!! Lurrr rolls backward, under the ropes and to the outside! The fans boo! Andrea, on her knees, reaches forward, placing both palms on the mat, shaking her head~

Smith: The veteran Lurrr understanding that he can’t be pinned outside the ring.

Hood: Yep, in theory being out there provides him seven additional seconds to recover…but, with Scruff, it could be seventeen.

Smith: Sad but true.

~Andrea looks at Scruff once more. Scruff yells “ONE!” Andrea is somewhat puzzled…his inconsistent officiating is throwing her. She slides out of the ring, knowing she needs to get Lurrr back in the ring. Or, well, she doesn’t have to…but she clearly wants to win this thing the right way. Lurrr tries to crawl under the ring…Andrea grabs Lurrr by the legs and uses all the strength she has, plus some leverage to yank him back out into the open. Lurrr spins around and shoves Andrea away with his legs. He pops to his feet and throws a lariat…Andrea avoids it via the matrix dodge. She pops back to her feet and throws a toned down superkick, which smacks Lurrr in the chin! Lurrr’s knees go weak…Andrea grabs Lurrr’s prone body and tosses him inside the ring. She hops onto the apron…the fans rise to their feet~

Smith: Sky High!

Hood: Ah shit…WAKE UP, LURRR! THIS IS YOUR WAKE UP CALL FROM HOOD!

~Andrea jumps up, springboarding off the top rope! She performs a somersault into a senton…Lurrr gets his knees up!! They stab Andrea right in the back!! She rolls forward, away from Lurrr. Lurrr rolls into the ropes and uses them for leverage to return to his feet. He measures Andrea up…he’s got her set for THE WAKE UP CALL. Andrea returns to her feet, blithely unaware. Lurrr lunges forward with THE WAKE UP CALL!! But Andrea catches his foot!!! Lurrr’s eyes widen. Andrea snares his boot and pulls away, ripping it off…she spins around and smacks Lurrr in the head with a roaring boot smash! It’s a new move!~

Smith: She just blasted Lurrr in the face with his own boot!

Hood: Fucking shit! Is Scruff going to do anything? Scruff? Scruff, are you going to do anything, pal?

Smith: It appears not.

Hood: WEAK ASS OFFICIATING

~Scruff, indeed, lets it slide. Lurrr hits the mat, stunned from the blow. Andrea spikes the boot into the mat. She goes after Lurrr, grabbing the side of his head and slamming the back of his head into the mat repeatedly. The fans go wild. “ANDREA! ANDREA!~

Smith: She’s letting that anger out! We’re watching therapy take place live before our very eyes!

Hood: Well this is totally unfair. Nobody in there is a licensed therapist, Smith. She should be disqualified for malpractice! Or, ya know, practicing without a license!

Smith: I don’t think it works that way, Hood.

~With Lurrr subdued and possibly concussed, Andrea turns him over, looking for the crossface. Lurrr fights it…he fights it…HE FIGHTS IT! He will not go out like a bitch…he will not allow this woman to put him in this submission hold. Andrea is determined to make a point, to force Lurrr to capitulate in the same manner her father did years earlier. Lurrr, however, isn’t Andrea’s father~

Smith: She’s almost got it locked in!

Hood: Dude, he’s not going to allow her to lock him in that fucking hold. It’s a street with a dead end…he realizes that.

Smith: He’s going to do his best…but can he really prevent her from locking it in? Is he capable of stopping the Craze Champion?

Hood: The Hall of Fame Champion? I’d fucking hope so.

~Andrea spots Lurrr’s bandaged hand. She reaches over and grabs it! Lurrr looks at her like “NO” Andrea grabs the fingers and pulls them apart…Lurrr yells out in pain. She yanks as hard as we can…we hear a loud SNAP!! Lurrr writhes around in crippling pain. Andrea doesn’t relent…she uses this ‘break’ to fully apply the crossface!! The crowd goes wild!!! Lurrr waves his arms around. Andrea wrenches back, blood sliding off the side of her head, onto the mat! Lurrr’s neck looks like it’s about to snap…his hand reaches up, ready to tap~

Smith: She’s got him! She’s got him!

Hood: Hang in there, Lurrr!

Smith: I don’t think he can, Smith. She tapped Veiga…now she’s going to tap Lurrr!

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~Lurrr closes his hand, refusing to tap! He tries to fight to his feet. Andrea senses that she’s losing control. She spots Lurrr’s boot…her mind flashes back to the crowbar and her father. She kicks the boot over and quickly grabs it, placing it across Lurrr’s face to increase the torture!! The boot’s heel is wedged in Lurrr’s mouth as Andrea pulls back yelling “TAP!” The fans chant “TAP! TAP!” Lurrr grows more belligerent with each chant. Scruff leans in, checking on Lurrr…for some reason he’s letting all this slide~

Smith: Due to what’s at stake I think Lurrr is being somewhat lenient with these competitors.

Hood: SOMEWHAT? He’s letting Andrea cheat right in front of his fucking face!

Smith: To be fair, Lurrr brought the boot to the ring.

Hood: IT WAS HIS SHOE

~Lurrr’s motions slow. It appears he’s going to pass rather than tap out. Andrea doesn’t let up…she’s going to break his neck, face, mouth, or all three before conceding that the job is done. Scruff grabs Lurrr’s arm. He lets it drop. ONE! He grabs Lurrr’s arm a second time and lets it drop. TWO!~

Smith: One more time and Lurrr will be knocked out!

Hood: I know he’s old and prone to naps, but this is not the time to doze off. WAKE UP, LURRR!

Smith: I think it’s too late, Hood.

~Scruff grabs Lurrr’s hand a third time…he lifts it up and drops it. But it fails to hit the mat!! Lurrr is ALIVE! He fights and struggles, trying to get to his feet. Andrea continues to hold on, hoping…thinking…believing that it’ll be enough. Lurrr, showing the power and determination of an OCW Hall of Famer reaches his feet. He has Andrea in the air and falls to the mat dropping Andrea with a Sidewalk Slam!!! The hold is released! Andrea is on the mat, wincing in pain. Lurrr rolls out of the ring, to the dirt surface, holding his wounded hand up to his face…he’s in rough shape~

Smith: Lurrr survived…but at what cost? He’s clearly injured.

Hood: Can you believe he just did that? WHAT A MAN

Smith: Well he isn’t the original icon for nothing, Hood. The man is immensely talented.

~Andrea returns to her feet, frustrated. She marches toward the ropes. Lurrr reaches his feet, leaning against the apron, his back to the ring. Andrea reaches through the ropes to grab him…Lurrr throws his hands up, blasting Andrea in the face with dirt!!! Andrea stumbles back, shaking her head. Lurrr rolls into the ring and pops to his feet, still protecting tha right hand~

Smith: What a foul move!

Hood: Would you call it dirty?

Smith: Your puns are not appreciated.

~Lurrr, on his feet, measures Andrea up. He throws THE WAKE UP CALL…but Andrea ducks!! Andrea runs toward the ropes, she springboards off with an inverted crossbody…she comes down and gets hit with THE WAKE UP CALL!! A cloud of blood fills the air from impact!! Andrea’s body crashes to the mat!! Lurrr jumps on top of her for the pin…Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings. The crowd BOOOS~

Belvedere: Here is your winner and the individual advancing to the finals of the Block Party Tournament…LURRR!!!!!

Smith: NO!

Hood: Fuck yes! The dinosaur did it! Jurassic Park exists in OCW!

Smith: The dirt…he threw that dirt in her face and it changed everything!

Hood: Meh, so what? She was trying to kill him with a boot.

Smith: Poor Andrea…she takes two steps forward and one step back…a crushing loss.

Hood: Too bad so sad…hey, at least she’s getting these opportunities.

Smith: Indeed…the final four is a tremendous achievement. And, she remains OCW Craze Champion.

Hood: Yep, meanwhile Lurrr advances to the main event…his first OCW PPV main event in nearly twenty years!

Smith: Indeed…tremendous effort by both competitors. The Block Party tournament continues to showcase the very best in OCW. Lurrr will now go on to face the winner of Bifford and James Raven.

~At the staff/talent entrance to Block Party, Mack O'Connor approaches. The guard glances at Mack, and down at his list~

Guard: Mr. O'Connor, we weren't expecting you.

Mack: Well, here I am.

Guard: I don't have you on my list, sir. You aren't competing today, so they don't have you down as being admissible.

Mack: You've got to be shitting me.

Guard: I'm afraid not, sir. See, they give me the list of everyone-

Mack: I understand your fucking list. I'm an employed member of this company, why wouldn't I be on that list?

Guard: I don't know. I'm sorry.

Mack: You're gonna be fuckin' sorry if you don't let me through this gate.

~The Guard, armed with nothing but pepper spray and a baton, looks visibly shaken~

Guard: I'm just doing my job, sir.

Treat: Hold up. Let him by.

~As if on cue, Treat Cassidy walks up to the Guard. Mack looks impatient~

Guard: He's not on the list, sir.

Treat: He is now. Come on, Mack.

~Mack eyes the Guard, who quickly steps out of the way. Mack and Treat walk through the fair grounds~

Treat: Why are you here? You shouldn't be.

Mack: Why'd you let me in?

Treat: I didn't want you harming the guy who's simply doing his job.

Mack: Look, one of the conditions of my parole is that I can leave the state for work related functions.

Treat: So?

Mack: This is a work related function.

Treat: You're not in a match.

Mack: Irrelevant... I thought I'd come here, have a few drinks, and enjoy the show. Plus, I've never been to the Middle East before.

Treat: The Midwest.

Mack: Whatever. Where's the bar?

~Mack parts from Treat, who simply looks worried~

Smith: And Mack is here!

Hood: Wouldn't be a PPV without Mack...too bad he's got nothing to do.

Smith: Chekhov's Gun

Hood: What?

Smith: Nothing! Folks, Lurrr has advance to tonight's Main Event! He will face the winner of our next match as OCW legend and long time foe of Lurrr, The Big Bifford takes on the outsider who simply won't go away - James Raven. Let's head down to ringside for this one!

Block Party SemiFinal
(1) The Big Bifford (13-3) vs. (6) James Raven (3-0)

~The sun has reached its apex. The darker half of the twenty-four-hour cycle approaches. The passing breeze debuts a coolness unfamiliar since the event’s inception. Fans enjoy this welcome relief well aware that it’s a precursor for chills yet to come. Belvedere, standing in the ring, clears his throat to a huge ovation as the second semifinal is upon us~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a Block Party SemiFinal match and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…

~"Bleed it Out" by Linkin Park begins to play. The giant wooden doors creak open revealing wrestling superstar and OCW bracket buster, James Raven. He appears as fresh as the day he first stepped into an OCW ring. No lingering injuries on this guy. He marches toward the ring, focused. The fans give Raven a strong ovation as he reaches the ring and slides in under the bottom rope~

Belvedere: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 222lbs…James Raven!!

Smith: Some people are surprised by Raven’s deep run in the Block Party tournament. But, to anyone familiar with Raven’s career this is far from shocking. James Raven is as pure a wrestling talent as there is in the sport.

Hood: He’s defeated a current star, a hall of famer, and an underdog…now…now he faces his biggest challenge yet.

Smith: Literally!

~Raven, in the ring, finds a corner and limbers up, awaiting his biggest challenge yet. His music dies out. The fans begin to boo. “Gangstas Paradise” by Coolio starts to fill the Montana air. A strange song for such a rural location. People wonder if Custer would have enjoyed these lyrics. Sitting Bull, perhaps? Ah, who knows…these are questions that will forever linger unanswered. One thing we do know is that Bifford is here! A motorized throne appears from between the two, giant wooden doors. It carries Bifford to the ring. Biff’s MAGICAL FLEECE looks as majestic as ever. He keeps a menacing glare focused on Raven. But…that’s not all. Biff’s brought back up…in his right hand he holds the handle to his…MIGHTY SCYTHE. People in the crowd shriek when they see the murderous behemoth carrying the deadly weapon. Raven walks up to Scruff looking for an explanation on how this is all legal~

Belvedere: From Phoenix, Arizona…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 488lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is…The Big Bifford!!!

Smith: Oh come on! Surely we can at least prevent him from bringing that scythe out here!

Hood: You never know who you can trust, Smith. Biff’s got a lot riding on this match…he NEEDS that rematch with Lurrr. So, he’s got protection.

Smith There isn’t anything that could conceivably take place that would require the use of a scythe.

Hood: I dunno, man. I hear it can get pretty wild in Montana.

~Bifford’s motorized throne has a weird look to it. We zoom in and see that it’s comprised solely of hardened photos memorializing all the times he’s defeated Dangerous Dan. Bifford jerks the wheel to his motorized throne as he reaches the ring. He spins to the side and comes to a stop right near the ring…which is a great thing because it enables Bifford to get inside the ring with minimum effort. He stands up and holds his MIGHTY SCYTHE in the air. The fans BOOO. A few women and some pussy ass men turn their heads. Belvedere bolts out of the ring, not wanting any part of this~

Smith: If you’re James Raven you have got to be wondering what you’ve got yourself into.

Hood: He’s a vet, I’m sure he’s seen some crazy shit.

~Bifford turns to enter the ring. With his MAGICAL FLEECE AND MIGHTY SCYTHE, we get the sense this could take awhile. He reaches for the bottom rope when he’s BLASTED in the face by a dropkick!!! Bifford loses his balance and falls off his motorized throne, tumbling into the dirt!! The MIGHTY SCYTHE flies from his grasp, landing several feet away. Raven’s hanging onto the top rope with his legs poking out of the ring. He swings them back inside and yells at Scruff to ring the bell. Scruf isn’t about to argue with a man willing to attack a mass murderer wielding a scythe. The bell rings! The fans go wild~

Smith: And here we go! You’ve got to admire Raven’s attitude! He’s not going to let something silly like a scythe deter him from competing!

Hood: Something silly like a scythe? Scythes are pretty fucking serious, man.

Smith: You think it’s a real scythe?

Hood: Biff may feign a lot of things…but he won’t fuck around when it comes to attempted murder during a wrestling show.

~Raven grasps the top rope. Bifford sits up in the dirt like “What the fuck happened?” He looks around for his MIGHTY SCYTHE. Raven jumps up, springboards off the top rope and performs a shooting star press, taking Bifford back down, into the dirt!! The fans go wild!! It may have taken them a bit, but they seem to be firmly behind James Raven! Raven pops back to his feet. He walks over to Bifford’s motorized throne and kicks at it. Bifford is laying in the dirt, staring up into the Montana sky, a portrait comprised of deep sky blue hue~

Smith: What athleticism! This man has the athleticism of a person half his size!

Hood: So you’re saying he’s bow-legged like a midget?

Smith: That’s not what I meant! He moves like a cruiserweight but has the build of a heavyweight.

Hood: Sounds like you were calling him Tiny Jim, to me.

~Raven digs under the ring, locating a sledgehammer. Why the fuck is there a sledgehammer under the ring? Who the hell uses a sledgehammer? It’s so unrealistic. Bring a scythe anyday. Anyway, Raven takes the sledgehammer and swings it at Bifford’s throne, bashing the device specificially designed to tote Biff around while also mocking Dangerous Dan. Bifford hears the noise but fails to put two and two together. He starts to sit up in a very sloppy manner. Raven bashes the throne again, and again…pieces of it fly away. The chair seems nearly disconnected from the base. With one, final swing, the chair goes flying, landing next to Biff. Biff looks over and spots an image of Dan. His eyes flare with RAGE. He pops to his feet like a man half his size and twice his speed. He points at Raven, furious. Raven seems stunned by Biff’s sudden burst. Biff charges at Raven. Raven holds the sledgehammer…but he doesn’t really want to use it. Scruff watches from inside the ring…he’s anxious, he doesn’t know what to do..he’s let this get way too carried away~

Smith: I’m not sure what’s got Biff more distressed…the fact his throne is destroyed or that he saw an up-close image of Dan.

Hood: Both, maybe? Either way he’s PISSED

Smith: If Raven hits him with that sledgehammer Scruff may be forced to disqualify him. I know we’re being lenient tonight given what’s at stake…but, I mean, a shot with a sledgehammer is…

Hood: Attempted murder? Yea man, I think attempted murder warrants a DQ.

~Bifford leaps into the air…he probably only achieves a 2-3 inch vertical, but it feels so much higher. Raven is frozen. Bifford comes crashing down, squashing Raven into the ring apron!! His back is pinned against the edge!! Bifford grabs Raven and throws him several feet through the air…he flips over the demolished scooter and lands near the detached throne. He’s still got the sledgehammer, though. Bifford looks around and holds his arms in the air…he does the “T! B! B!” thumbs…the crowd, being the sheep they are, chant along~

Smith: Raven’s back has to be in serious pain after that!

Hood: He’s going to walk around like an old man from now on…not conducive to a lascivious lifestyle.

Smith: He’s retained possession of the sledgehammer.

Hood: He must be a huge Peter Gabriel fan.

~Bifford kicks what remains of the base of his scooter aside. It tumbles around…Biff’s got a huge leg. Biff marches toward Raven. Raven has rolled onto all fours. Bifford comes up from behind Raven and reaches for his hair. Raven throws his arms back, jamming the head of the sledgehammer into Biff’s gut. Biff’s got a huge gut…impervious to a lot of shit. But, a sledgehammer is hard to no-sell. So, Biff staggers to his right. Raven returns to his feet, holding the sledgehammer…the head drags against the dirt. He reaches back, feeling around and wincing…it’s clear his back is fucked after that impact. Bifford looks down and sees his MIGHTY SCYTHE. Scruff sees Raven with a sledgehammer and Bifford with a scythe. He has no choice…he yells out “ONE!”~

Smith: About time!

Hood: I think he was intrigued. How far will these two go?

Smith: Far enough!

~Scruff yells “TWO!” Biff has his MIGHTY SCYTHE. Raven sees Biff wielding his weapon. Is it a REAL scythe or something meant to instill fear? Raven hoists up his sledgehammer which, as we’ve seen, is very real. Bifford heads Raven’s way. Raven is ready to use the sledgehammer as protection. Scruff yells “THREE!” Bifford rears back with the scythe. Raven slings his sledgehammer. Bifford spins around, wielding the scythe…it cuts right through the wooden handle of the sledgehammer, slicing it clean in half!! The top falls to the ground. Raven looks at what’s in hand…a thick, short wooden stick with a very clean cut. He looks at Biff like “YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY!” Bfif winds up for another swing. Raven throws the wooden handle at Biff; it hits him in the head. Raven darts for the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. Scruff yells “FOUR!” Bifford shakes off the impact of the piece of wood…it caught him pretty good in the forehead. He turns and marches toward the ring, SCYTHE in hand~

Smith: Get that scythe away from him before he kills somebody!

Hood: Okay, so yea, it’s real.

Smith: This man is insane!

~Bifford reaches the ring. Raven tells Scruff he is not wrestling a man carrying a legitimate scythe. Bifford is about to enter the ring, but Scruff yells “NO!” Biff looks up with childlike eyes asking “why?” Scruff yells “NO SCYTHE!” Biff seems hurt and confused. Scruff yells “FIVE!” Biff tries to enter again…Scruff motions toward the bell…Biff lowers his head, sad. He drops his MIGHTY SCYTHE. The crowd goes wild. Bifford hops on the apron and rolls in, under the bottom rope, barely fitting. Scruff breaks the count. Raven attacks Biff with kicks, trying to subdue the super heavyweight~

Smith: How did he think bringing a scythe into the ring would be okay?

Hood: Because he’s Biff, Smith. The man is full of wonder and hope…striving to improve mankind one decapitated wrestler at a time.

Smith: It’s all a ruse if you ask me. He knows what he’s doing…he’s simply trying to lower people’s guards by acting all goofy and weird.

Hood: Hey! He may be goofy but don’t you ever call him weird!

~Bifford fights to his feet amidst the kicks. He’s a big man, as we’ve said. It takes a lot to impact him. Raven ceases with kicking. He throws some heavy hands at Biff’s head and shoulder…but Biff rises to his feet. He reaches out and grabs Raven by the throat! Raven tries to break free, but Biff is too strong. Bifford hoists Raven in the air and glares at him…Raven destroyed his throne…he was possibly responsible for Scruff threatening to DQ him if he brought the MIGHTY SCYTHE into the ring…Biff HATES this man…so he spins around and slams Raven into the mat with a Chokebomb!! He holds on for the pin~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!!

Smith: Raven kicked out!

Hood: Whew, man…don’t fuck with Biff’s scythe.

Smith: He cares more about a freakin scythe than he does a person’s well being.

Hood: Well, to be fair, most people suck.

~Raven rolls away. He reaches the ropes and pulls his body into a corner, taking a seat against the bottom and middle rope. He winces, reaching for his back. Biff, still seated in the center of the ring, looks up at Scruff. Scruff holds up two fingers. Biff asks about the scythe…Scruff says “No…I’m sorry, Biff.” Biff shakes his head with sadness before returning to his feet and glaring at Raven. He charges forward. He spins around and throws his rear at Raven’s head…James moves!! Biff’s ass slams into the corner!! The entire ring shakes!! Raven pops up in the middle of the ring…he hits the rope…Biff comes staggering out…Raven lunges forward with the DIVEBOMB! But, it does nothing!! Raven bounces off of Biff’s giant gut!! Raven reaches for his shoulder and looks up, stunned. Bifford holds up his thumbs and does the “T! B! B!” gesture~

Smith: Raven’s got a ton of high impact moves in his arsenal…sadly, few of them will work against a man of Bifford’s size.

Hood: It must be great to be Biff. His training consists of eating a fuck ton of food.

Smith: He is huge, no doubt…but let’s not overlook the man’s athleticism. Underneath all that mass is an excellent athlete.

~Raven returns to his feet, determined to take the big man down. He didn’t achieve success by giving up. He throws a forearm into the side of Biff’s head, ringing the big man’s bell, slightly. He throws a few kicks into Bifford’s legs, trying to weaken his base. He hits the ropes, bounces off and flies through the air with a flying forearm! It smashes Biff right in the nose!! Bifford stumbles around, shaking his wooly, bearded head. Raven senses he’s on to something! The fans go wild!! He reaches up, grabbing Biff by the head~

Smith: James Raven is looking for Flight of the Raven!

Hood: He’s got to twist him, right?

Smith: Yep.

Hood: Dude, that’s fucking impossible!

~Raven looks to turn Biff over for Flight of the Raven…Bifford, though, blocks the move. He lifts Raven and drops him with an Atomic Drop!!! Raven stumbles forward…Bifford charges ahead and throws both arms into Raven’s back! The impact sends Raven flying forward, through the ropes and onto the apron. The fans in Fort OCW are disappointed…it’s looking bleak~

Smith: He’s tried Divebomb…didn’t work. He tried Flight of the Raven…didn’t work. He’s running out of options.

Hood: Maybe he should use the MIGHTY SCYTHE.

Smith: No.

Hood: It’d work, though, wouldn’t it?

Smith: I don’t want to answer that.

~Bifford reaches over the top rope, grabbing Raven by his hair, pulling the wrestling legend to his feet. Raven throws a forearm uppercut, stunning Biff! He grabs Biff by the back of the head and hops off the apron, ramming Biff’s throat across the top rope!! Bifford staggers back. Raven hops back onto the apron…he leaps up and springboards off the top rope with a missile dropkick!!! It sends Biff reeling backward ~

Smith: Raven’s got Biff stunned!

Hood: Damn, this guy won’t quit…where the fuck is he from?

Smith: He’s a legend outside of OCW, Hood. He cut his teeth and earned recognition in the same circles as Aidan Collins.

Hood: KING INFINITY? WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO?!

~Bifford falls into the ropes…he ricochets off. Raven kips up!! He runs into the opposite ropes, leaping up, springboarding off the top and performing a beautiful moonsault!! He descends down onto Biff…but Biff catches him!!! He’s got Raven over his shoulder…he flips Raven over and drops him across his knee with a HUGE backbreaker!! Raven yells out, arching his back in pain~

Smith: Biff caught Raven and proceeded to…NOT LITERALLY…break his back!

Hood: I dunno, man. Could be literal…Raven’s back is already fucked after that splash against the apron.

Smith: True…these men are laying it all out there for the right to face Lurrr. Unbelievable!

~Bifford stands over Raven, who continues to sell his back, on the mat. Bifford bends down and grabs Raven…he picks him up like a child, applying a BEAR HUG! Raven grimaces and tries to break free…but Biff is too big…too strong. Raven yells out, and wiggles, writhes…he knows there’s an escape…but he can’t seem to work his way free. Biff continues to wrench and strain and pull and tighten his grip. With each tune-up, Raven is left displaying immense pain on his face, doing what he can to prevent from yelling like a bitch. Bifford starts to ragdoll Raven around, hoping that might be enough to get the man to submit. Raven, though, isn’t going out like a bitch~

Smith: Biff is trying to advance to the finals via BEAR HUG

Hood: Raven better not submit to a fucking bear hug…he’ll never hear the end of it from King Infinity.

Smith: It is a rare winning move.

Hood: I think the last person to win via bear hug was Schmitty Davis back in the Brooklyn Ballyhoo of 1921.

Smith: I’m not going to check the validity of that statement, but I’m going to assume it’s totally false.

~Raven starts to tire. His body is covered in sweat. The bear hug…while weak as fuck in terms of impact is taking its toll. The Goliath, Biff is squeezing the life out of the smaller Raven…who also has an ailing back, at the moment. Bifford rag dolls Raven some more. His arms and legs flail around…as do his head, like a newborn baby with a gesticulating mother. Scruff, seeing that Raven may be out and therefore prone to serious whiplash-related injury, rushes up and grabs his arm. He holds it up…it falls. That’s one! He holds it up again…it…DOES NOT FALL! Raven isn’t going to deadline this shit! He fights back. Bifford tries to ragdoll Raven some more, but James reaches forward, grabbing Biff by the head. He leans forward with a HUGE headbutt. The skull on skull contact is sickening!! Bifford blinks, it’s clear the contact had some major effect. Raven, too, appears afflicted…but he’s in dire shape…he has to do what he has to do~

Smith: How many of those head butts can either man absorb? That was sick!

Hood: It’s a shame fat doesn’t cover a person’s head.

Smith: Yea, the head is probably the one place where Biff’s size advantage is a nonfactor.

~Raven shakes off the lingering effects of the initial headbutt. He dives in with ANOTHER HEAD BUTT. This one clangs louder than the first one! Biff’s hands lose their grip. Raven’s arms chop down, breaking Bifford’s grip entirely. Raven wrenches his back, trying to work out whatever’s ailing him. He hits the ropes…Bifford is still rocked! Raven bounces off the ropes…he lunges at Biff looking for a hurricanrana…but Biff holds on!!! Biff hoists Raven up for the BIFF END!! Raven, realizing what’s about to happen, frees his legs and wraps them around Biff’s head with the Ravenlock (Triangle Choke)!!!! Bifford stumbles around…the lack of oxygen combined with the two vicious head butts have him feeling extremely dizzy~

Smith: The Ravenlock!! James Raven is going to try and choke Biff out!

Hood: Isn’t choking illegal?!

Smith: Err…he’s trying to incapacitate Biff!

Hood: HEY! YOU SAID CHOKING!

~Raven is holding on for dear life! He’s got the hold synched in TIGHT. Bifford stumbles around, but he’s refusing to go down. He knows that once he goes down, he’s likely not getting up. Raven’s head is pointed directly down at the mat as he has Biff doubles over, doing what he can to bring the big man down. Biff stumbles…he leans forward…he’s about to fall! Raven begins to think, for a second about the hazard of having all that weight come down on him…but now’s not the time for physics. He’s choking the fucker out! Bifford leans…he leans…he leeeeaans….and RISES UP! He hoists Raven into the air, turns him back down, violently and drops him with THE BIFF END!!! The entire ring shakes!! The fans are stunned!! Raven’s neck is crunched…his back compressed…he’s face down on the mat. Biff, sitting up, falls to his side, coughing, wheezing, attempting to consume enough oxygen to refill his lungs~

Smith: The Biff End!!! Biff has won world championships with that move…most notably the OCW Championship!

Hood: This fucking thing is over if he can get his fat ass on top of the bird man!

Smith: Easier said than done…the Ravenlock really did a number on Biff’s esophagus.

Hood: Bullshit…the man eats three hams a day…that throat is super durable.

~Bifford rolls onto his back…then back to his side. He pushes himself into a seated position. Raven is still face down..it’s not looking good for the outsider. Bifford crawls over, coughing and wheezing. He plows Raven over, onto his back and throws his ridiculously fat body on top of James. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!

NOOOOO

Smith: He snuck the shoulder up!

Hood: Bullshit.

Smith: He did! Raven slipped that shoulder up underneath all that girth!

Hood: Well this fucking sucks!

~Bifford manages to get to his knees, looking down at Raven. He brings his hands together, holds them up high and brings them down…he slams Raven repeatedly with a double axe handle!! He beats on him over and over and over, rendering Raven into an incapacitated mass. Bifford struggles to his feet and stumbles toward the ropes. He looks down at his scythe. Scruff points at him and says “Don’t you do it, Biff!” Biff sighs and kicks at the bottom rope. He heads back toward Raven. He pulls Raven off the mat and positions him. Raven suddenly jumps to live…he delivers a SUPERKICK (THE F.Y.S.) right into Biff’s chin!!! Raven falls to the mat, still reeling from the punishment. Biff teeters back and forth before falling forward on top of Raven!!! Raven’s face down so there is no pin opportunity…it’s just the giant Biff lying atop the much smaller Raven…both men are suffering the punishment this match has delivered~

Smith: What a war! Raven is going toe to toe with one of the best wreslters in OCW history.

Hood: Yea I have to give it to the guy…most of his moves are fucking useless against Biff…but he’s making it work.

Smith: Indeed…sadly, all that hard work is rewarded with the giant Bifford laying on top of him.

~Raven appears to come to first. He realizes Biff’s dead weight is pinning him down. He tries to roll around. He achieves his goal! Scruff drops to his knees to count…Raven rolls back onto his front side, realizing that was a mistake. He reaches for the mat, digging his fingers into it, using all the leverage he can find to crawl out from under the beached whale. He’s pulling and pulling and pulling…~

Smith: Raven’s nearly free!

Hood: Man, imagine being stuck under a dead Bifford. That would suck.

Smith: Yes, I’m sure Raven isn’t the happiest person alive right now.

~Raven finally gets free! The crowd pops!! He starts to get to his feet…but can’t…his eyes widen, he feels a tug…he turns around and sees Bifford holding onto his leg. Bifford rises…Raven hops around on one leg with that ‘oh fuck’ look plastered across his face. Raven throws an enziguri at Biff. Biff catches his leg. He has Raven in the wheelbarrow position. He flips him upward, hooking him around the waist for a German Suplex. Raven throws a few back elbows, rattling Biff’s already jarred head. Biff loses his grip. Raven steps forward, turns to the side and throws The F.Y.S. but Biff catches his leg!!! He throws it to the side! Raven spins around three-hundred-sixty degrees. Biff boots Raven in the gut~

Smith: Raven’s in trouble!

Hood: Good night, outsider.

~Biff hoists Raven up for the Biff End!!! Raven delivers a downward elbow strike into the crowd of Biff’s head. Biff is stunned! Raven locks his legs around Biff’s head, reapplying The Ravenlock!!! The crowd goes wild!!! Biff staggers around, waving his hands and arms, doing whatever he can to break free. The fans yell “TAP! TAP! TAP!”~

Smith: Will Biff tap?!

Hood: No way…mass murderers don’t tap out!

Smith: He’s in bad shape…it’s not looking good!

Hood: C’mon, Biff…survive…don’t let some punk from a fed that starts with a fucking X choke you out!

~Bifford leans forward…he’s about to fall, like before. But, he rasies up…like before!! He wants to transition into another Biff End…but he’s too weak. Bifford stumbles to the side…he stumbles forward…he’s so close! Raven yells and wrenches and pulls…he’s trying so fucking hard to get this man to tap or pass out. Bifford finally begins to crumble…but before he does, he reaches out and snares the top rope!!! Scruff orders a break!!! He slaps Raven on the back and legs…Raven waits for the count of five before letting go~

Smith: Bifford made the ropes!

Hood: Yes! What a man! WHAT A MAN!

~Bifford leans against the ropes, coughing and wheezing. His breath is super labored. He turns around to punish Raven. The moment he does he’s struck in the face with The F.Y.S.!!!! Bifford spins around and stumbles into the ropes. Raven drops to the mat. Bifford’s front bounces off the ropes, he staggers backwards and trips over Raven!! Raven schoolboys Biff, holding on for the pin, barely…the big man’s huge legs are hard to corral. Scruff slides in for the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~Raven lets go and rolls away as the crowd leaps to their feet! The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man moving on to tonight’s main event…JAMES RAVEN!!!!!

Smith: Raven did it! He did it!

Hood: Son of a WHORE

Smith: Raven’s got a shot to win Block Party, earning himself a shot at the OCW Championship!

Hood: Lurrr, man…we need you. We need you to stop this man.

Smith: He’s passed many tests during this run, Raven has. But his biggest test looms…can he defeat the original OCW icon…can he defeat the three time OCW Champion…can he defeat, Lurrr.

Hood: Fuck man…I don’t know. Maybe? This Raven guy is way too good….should have never let him in this fucking thing!

Smith: This is OCW…we want the best and nothing less.

Hood: Fucking Bifford…that’s the third or fourth time he’s been an eyelash away from getting a shot at the OCW Title.

Smith: He almost won Death March. He almost won the Elimination Chamber. And, tonight, he almost won Block Party.

Hood: Hang in there, big man!

Smith: It’s Bifford…he’ll be fine.

~Double J Joe Jones is standing outside of the locker room checking his phone, minding his own business when Bester walks up to Joe a little bent out of shape.~

Bester: MISTER JONES!

~Joe looks up from his phone, with a puzzled look on his face.~

Joe Jones: Best? What’s going….

~Before Joe can finish his question, Bester hauls off and decks him! This sends Joe stumbling backwards and into a table full of water bottles and Gatorade. ~

Joe Jones: The hell?

Bester: I KNOW WHAT YOU DID! I’M NOT VERY HAPPY MISTER JONES!

~Bester takes Joe by his collar and slugs him again right across the chin! Joe is now sporting a busted lip and is bleeding. Bester yanks him off of the table and strikes him again, he winds up to nail Joe again, this time Joe blocks it and unloads with a right of his own!~

Joe Jones: The fuck you doing boy!

~Joe hits Bester again, and this only seems to piss him off more. Joe then low blows Bester by kicking him and that frees his grip on him! Bester kneels down favoring his “boys” has Joe rips off his suit jacket and unbutton his shirt sleeves. Joe then winds up and kicks Bester hard across the chest.~

Joe Jones: Let me guess, that whore talked to you? I told her to forget you.

~Bester looks up at Joe.~

Bester: She is not like that Mister Jones! She is my friend!

Joe Jones: She’s a fucking cunt!

~By now Who’re and the camera crew have arrived, filming everything.~

Bester: YOU TAKE THAT BACK!

~Joe kneels down next to Bester, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood from his mouth. He glares at Bester.~

Joe Jones: Not likely! And I thought I was your friend Best? Huh!

~Joe lightly slaps Bester across the face.~

Joe Jones: What about all of the shit I did for you? Huh? Dragging you out of Mexico! All of the OGDA shit! I got you away from Nanook who was taking all of your money! You can at least fucking eat now. Is this how you thank me?

~Joe than again slaps Bester across the face.~

Joe Jones: I LOOK OUT FOR YOU! NO ONE ELSE WILL! I DO! That bitch is a leach! All she wants to do is attach herself to you and use you to increase her stock in this company! She’s a fucking user Bester! She doesn’t even like you! Especially! Like that!

Bester: No….No!

Joe Jones: She’s going to flash her pussy at you and you’re going to fall in love with that stank and the next thing you know! She’ll be getting every title shot under the moon here cuz she’ll have you to do all of her heavy lifting! And the sad part of it Bester! Is that you ain’t getting no pussy out of the deal! If you were getting laid I could at least fucking deal with it, but she ain’t nothing but a cock tease! You hear me? Look at me you son of a bitch!

~Joe takes Bester by the chin and forces Bester to look at him.~

Joe Jones: BITCH IS A COCK TEASE! NOTHING MORE!

~Bester takes a deep long breath.~

Bester: AUBREY IS NOT A THAT KIND OF GIRL! BUT YOUR AN ASSHOLE!

~Joe closes his eyes and bites his lips.~

Joe Jones: Fuck!

~Bester takes a hold of Joe with both hand gripping his collar of his shirt, lifts Joe up off of the ground and charges full steam ahead into the table of refreshments. Bester drives Joe through the table to a huge explosion! Bester then mounts Joe with a series of rights, one right after another. Several OCW officials and backstage hands then rush in and they start pulling Bester off of Joe. After a few moments of struggle and Bester fight back, they get him off of Joe and push him into the locker room with Bester shouting Aubrey’s name.~

~Who’re than jogs in and kneels down next to a really bloody Joe Jones. He spits some blood as he lays in the wreckage of broken tables and busted open water bottles that has soaked his blood stained shirt.~

Who’re: Joe! Joe Jones! I have to ask! What do you make of this relationship between Bester and Aubrey Baxter?

~Joe looks at Who’re with a “Are you retarded or something.” look on his face. He sits up and uses a part of his shirt to dab his busted lip.~

Joe Jones: I stand by my words. Fuck that bitch!

Who’re: What about Bester?

Joe Jones: I’ll deal with him later.

~Joe then slowly stands up and hobbles off as Who’re stands up and faces the camera.~

Who’re: Back to you guys.

~We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: This situation continues to escalate.

Hood: It's the BEATLES breaking up all over again!

Smith: Jones should just let Bester be happy.

Hood: Fuck that noise, Aubrey is bad news. Jones is doing what's best for his client.

Smith: Agree to disagree...anyway, fans, the biggest OCW Title match in company history is mere moments away...before we send you to the ring, let's take a look at what we've got coming up for our NEXT PPV Extravaganza!

OCW Presents - Not Safe For Work
LIVE! Monday, June 17th 2019
From Schlitterbahn Waterpark in New Braunfels, Texas

OCW Craze Championship
Andrea Hernandez (c) vs. TBA

OCW Paradigm Championship
Kitty Petrova (c) vs. TBA

OCW Savage Championship
Vincent Langston (c) vs. TBA

OCW Tag Team Championship
Team ATARI (c) vs. TBA

OCW Championship
Paul Paras (c) vs. TBA

Card Subject to Change

---

~We cut back to Smith and Hood. Hood's leaning back, enjoying a drink. Smith's wringing his hands, displaying a tremendous cycle of nerves~

Smith: Well fans, I don't know how else to lead this off. The most important OCW Championship match in company history is next. Three intruders have been rocketed straight to the top via a series of unexpected events. One of those men could walk away with the most prestigious prize in company history. A title that's seen two owners over the past twelve months.

Hood: Two of the greatest ever...Matt Meyhu and Paul Paras!

Smith: Both of whom are in this match...this is a match that will dictate where OCW goes from here. It will define legacies...it will make stars...this is a match that the winner will look back on and say "That was a pivotal moment in my career". Simply put, the stakes could not be any higher. Let's head down to ringside.

---

---

OCW Championship
Process of Elimination
Paras ©/ Langston © / Meyhu (LIME) vs. The eMpire

~The sun is lowering along the western horizon. We’ve reached that point in the day where daylight runs thin. It’s been a long and wild event thus far…but shit is just getting started. There’s an ominous vibe within Fort OCW. The fans sit, anxious…they know what’s coming. The very future of this company…the landscape, all plans hang in the balance. Shit, my friends, is about to get very real. Belvedere clears his throat. A gust of wind picks up, almost on cue, blowing a decent amount of dust across the ring. The fans buzz with anticipation…they are nervous; they are anxious…but, they are also ready~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Process of Elimination Match and it is for the OCW and Savage Championships! The rules are as follows…

~Belvedere pauses, gearing up to read off a massive rule list. The fans are also popping hard. So, this gives them a time to calm the fuck down so they’ll kind of understand what the hell they are about to watch~

Belvedere: The match will begin as a six-person tag team elimination match. The two teams will square off. When a person is pinned, submitted, counted out, or disqualified, they are eliminated from the contest. When three participants have been eliminated the match will transition into a triple threat. The first individual to score a victory in the triple threat portion will earn the OCW Championship!

~The crowd goes wild! A huge “OCW!” chant gets going~

Belvedere: If OCW Savage Champion Vincent Langston does not win…whoever eliminates Langston will earn his OCW Savage Championship!

~Another pop for this announcement…although not as loud. The idea of Langston losing increases the odds of a member of the eMpire walking away with the OCW Championship~

Belvedere: Introducing first…

Hood: IT’S A TRAP!

Smith: Those words may prove to be prophetic. The eMpire walked in here under the guise of helping Mario claim the OCW Championship. That was six weeks ago at Social Justice. And now, here we are…it’s Block Party and the eMpire, minus Mario, is competing for the OCW Championship.

Hood: I can see where someone might say this was all planned from the start. But, ya know man…this is pro wrestling. Shit happens.

Smith: Sometimes…but in this case I believe we may have been duped. This entire eMpire uprising may, indeed, have been a well-orchestrated trap.

~That addictive imperial eMpire theme blasts throughout Fort OCW. The fans refuse to cheer or chant along with it. Although a few can be seen tapping their feet. The doors to Fort OCW open. The boos already begin. We can’t even SEE the eMpire, yet. However, fans know what’s coming. A horse emerges. It’s a bay horse, bright red coat with black mane and tail. CMF sits atop this horse sporting a ridiculously long and fake beard. A cowboy hat rests atop his head…suspenders are strapped over his shoulders. A holster resides at his left hip, containing a (likely fake) gun. He’s wearing brown pants and a white, long-sleeved shirt which probably doubles as sleeping attire in the evening. His horse moseys on down to the ring unaffected by the chorus of boos~

Smith: What’s with that beard…I mean, seriously.

Hood: That’s a manly beard, Smith. The beard of a man wise and sage with many years of frontier experience. Farthington is wise beyond his years!

Smith: It’s the phoniest beard I’ve ever seen! I hope it gets ripped off!

Hood: Wow, you act like he stole your horse.

~A jet black horse is next. Atop this fierce looking beast sets Max Kael. The bottom half of his face is covered by a bandana, making him look like a bandit. He, too, sports a cowboy hat…the brim is lowered to the point where his eye patch is nearly covered. His remaining eye is set directly on the ring with a focus unmatched by any wrestler alive. The black horse marches with purpose as Max remains still and foreboding atop the well-behaved animal. Max’s upper body is covered in a clean, black coat~

Smith: Mike Best gets most of the attention due to his mouth. Farthington is quickly becoming a star here in OCW. But the man who gets, possibly, the least amount of attention is arguably the most dangerous – Max Kael.

Hood: No shit, man. Max could walk away OCW Champion tonight.

Smith: If Max gets his hands on that OCW Title it’s going to be very hard for someone to take it away from him.

~And, finally, we get the mouthpiece of the eMpire. The perceived leader of the group. Mike Best emerges atop a white horse. His ‘couch’ coat has been left at home. Although he does carry a portrait of himself. It appears to be the one he had done a few weeks back. The Hall of Fame gauntlet is secured over his left hand. He looks at it, working his hand open and shut…the two Hall of Fame rings representing Bifford and TIO remain intact. That hideous ‘M’ is still shaved on his chin. A black coat covers his shirtless torso. A cowboy hat resides atop his head. He looks around, arrogantly. The boos continue to be hurled down upon the three members of the eMpire. Mike’s horse reaches the ringside area. It walks up, in between CMF and Max. They wait for a high point in their entrance theme before all three men disembark, hopping off their horses with athletic ease. Their feet hit the dirt in unison. The three men march toward the ring. Mike places his painting on the steps, leaning up against a post. The three men slide in and pop to their feet inside the squared circle. A chant of “FUCK THE EMPIRE” fills the late afternoon Montana skyline~

Belvedere: These three men are the ‘challengers’. They came here from High Octane Wrestling. They have won multiple championships all over the world. Ladies and Gentlemen…Cecilworth M! Farthington, Max Kael, and Mike Best…the eMpire!!!

~BOOOO goes the crowd. Mike holds up his gauntlet. CMF rubs his beard. Max lowers his head, glaring at the double wooden doors, ready to fight. The horses are led away by three trained handlers. Once they are gone, the eMpire’s music stops. It’s eerily quiet. The fans begin to chant “OCW! OCW!” The three men who comprise The eMpire start to march around the ring fired up…they are ready to go~

Belvedere: And, their opponents…

“LA… LA, LA LA… Wait Till I Get My Money Right…”

~Fort OCW goes wild!! They see LIME! A huge, thunderous “MEYHU” chant sounds out. The double doors open and the Marvel himself stands behind them. He’s not dressed like a fucking cowboy. He’s not dressed like a native American. He’s dressed, simply as…The Marvel. Meyhu looks around, taking in the response. We see him say, “It takes some serious assholes to get the fans cheering me like this.” And, well, he’s not wrong. Meyhu marches down the walk way, toward the ring area. Max, standing near the ropes, looks down at Meyhu. Best climbs the middle buckle, motioning for Meyhu to step inside the ring. CMF continues to fondle his beard~

Belvedere: From Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 240lbs…he is a former OCW Savage Champion, he is a two-time OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is The Marvel…ladies and gentlemen…he is…Matt Meyhu!!!

Smith: There he is! The man atop which OCW has been built!

Hood: He’s the standard around here, Smith. He’s the man! Matt Meyhu is the core of OCW.

Smith: Indeed and tonight he fights to preserve that very core.

~"I Am Legend" - Colton Dixon fills Fort OCW! The crowd continues to pop! The wooden doors behind Meyhu open. The eMpire continues to offer Meyhu ‘safe’ passage into the ring. This time in the form of CMF sitting atop the middle rope, creating a wider gap for easier entry. Meyhu kindly declines. Behind Meyhu we see the image of a giant man toting a chain. He steps into the light revealing the OCW Savage Champion, Vincent Langston. Langston marches forward. The Savage Championship is secured tightly around his waist. The chain is draped over his left shoulder…the shoulder he injured back at Social Justice. Langston saddles up next to Meyhu. The two men look one another up and down…two of OCW’s best…two who have yet to square off~

Belvedere: Introducing next…from Washington D.C., standing 6’4 and weighing in at 230lbs…he is a former OCW Tag Team Champion…he is the OCW Savage Champion…he is Vincent ‘The Legend’ Langston!!!

Smith: Langston! A man who should be receiving more credit, I think.

Hood: He’s in the biggest OCW Title match of all time…how much more credit does the guy need?

Smith: I don’t know. He just feels overlooked, at times.

Hood: Blah. This is his second straight PPV with a shot at the OCW Title. Dude’s doing fine.

~Langston’s music comes to a close. The eMpire, still in the ring, continues to entice Meyhu and Langston. Vincent steps forward. Meyhu hangs back, curious. Best, still standing atop that second buckle, looks down and nods saying “Finally, someone with balls!” Langston wraps the chain around his right fist…he reaches the steps, rears back and slams his fist through Best’s portrait!! The crowd goes wild!! Best looks down, stunned…he then becomes pissed. Meyhu stands in the back, chuckling. Langston looks up at Best and points at him via his chained, left hand. Best hops off the corner and looks ready to beat some ass. That’s the precise moment when "It Doesn't Seem to Matter" by Army of Anyone hits!! The entire state of Montana goes wild!! A loud “PARAS!” chant sounds out. Best halts. He thinks better about his intended action. The two wooden doors open to reveal the zen master himself…the yoga king…arguably the greatest wrestler in OCW history…the CHAMP, Paul Paras!! Paras marches toward the ring, wasting very little time~

Belvedere: And their partner…from Minneapolis, Minnesota…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 251lbs…he is a former OCW Tag Team Champion…he is a two-time OCW Hall of Famer…he is the current reigning and defending OCW Champion…he is The Perfect One…he is…Paul Paras!!!

Smith: The champ is here!

Hood: What did you say? It’s loud as fuck out here right now!

Smith: It’s Paras!

Hood: Oh yes, I too am sad that Mike Best’s portrait was destroyed!

~Belvedere doesn’t wait to receive the belts from Langston and Paras. He gets the hell out of dodge. Paras reaches Meyhu and Langston. He looks at these two men…one he fought earlier this year at Throwback. The other he went to war with six weeks ago at Social Justice. Three men who have pushed each other to the limit via physical torture. Three men who must now band together to push back against an empirical uprising. Paras nods at Meyhu. He nods at Langston. The three men take off toward the ring!! The crowd goes wild!! Mike, Max and CMF dart backward, sliding out under the bottom rope as the three members of OCW slide into the ring. Meyhu, Paras, and Langston pop to their feet to a HUGE ovation! The eMpire looks up at them from outside. Best stomps around the ring, heading toward his portrait. The fans chant “OCW! OCW!”~

Smith: Alright! Enough of the bullying and the bashing and the tweets…it’s time to let fists and muscles do the talking!

Hood: It’s a good thing Mike, Max, and M! have a lot of muscles.

Smith: I’d argue the more muscular team is standing in the ring, Hood.

Hood: Why the fuck are we arguing about muscles? Is Scott Syren out here or something?

Smith: You just had to sneak a Syren reference in, didn’t you?

Hood: Mark 4 Life

~Best holds his portrait up and shakes his head. CMF heads over to console him. Max stares into the ring, eyeing Langston. Langston points at him, throwing curse words and insults at Max. Paras backs up against the ropes, near his team’s corner. He removes his OCW Title and holds it high in the air. The fans go wild. He turns around and hands it over to Belvedere, who is safely outside the ring. Paras walks up and pats Langston on the shoulder. Vincent spins around, ready to attack. He calms down, realizing the situation. Paras motions for Langston to hand him the Savage Title. Respectfully, Langston declines, walking past Paras, removing his belt and handing it to Belvedere himself~

Smith: These men may be allies tonight, but that doesn’t mean they are friends.

Hood: Paras injured Langston at Social Justice. He gave Langston his first legitimate defeat. Of course, they aren’t friends!

Smith: You have to think the eMpire will have the edge when it comes to teamwork.

Hood: Oh no doubt… if you think anybody is walking out of here with the OCW Title who ISN’T in the eMpire, then you’re a fool.

~Belvedere motions for the chain. Langston shakes his head ‘no.’ Belvedere shrugs and heads off. Best, still looking at his demolished portrait, finally tosses it aside. CMF continues to console him. They head toward their corner where Max remains, looking up, watching his opponents. Langston seems determined to start the match. Paras isn’t going to turn this into a battle. It’s not worth it. He takes a spot on the apron. Meyhu, a man who has made a living off of seizing the opportunity, has no problem allowing Langston dibs on the opening bell. Max, meanwhile, seems ready to start the match for his team. Mike, however, places a gauntlet covered hand into his brother’s chest~

Smith: Is Mike Best going to start this match for his team?

Hood: Revenge for the portrait, Smith.

Smith: This…is a surprise.

~Mike Best walks up the steps and enters into the ring. He receives a huge pop…the fans aren’t huge Mike Best fans…they are just excited to see him start the match. Max and CMF take a spot on the apron, giving Mike his opportunity to begin the match. All three men are still sporting their cowboy hats. Mike is still sporting his gauntlet. Langston points this out to Scruff. Scruff tries to get Mike to remove it. But Mike points out Langston’s hand wrapped in the chain. Scruff looks at Langston and sighs…he refuses to call for the bell until these issues settle~

Smith: These men need to relinquish their weapons.

Hood: Okay…who goes first? You know whoever goes first is going to get lambasted with something hard and dangerous.

Smith: How about they do it at the same time.

Hood: Haha, yea right

~Mike yells some derogatory statement about ‘baby killing’ at Langston. Langston flings his chain at Mike. Mike jumps to avoid the chain. Langston swings his chain around and flings it at Mike again. This time, Mike lifts his leg up and stomps on the chain, taking control of the situation. Langston tries to rip the chain away but Mike’s strength is proving to be stronger than anybody anticipated. He reaches down and grabs the chain, pulling Vincent in closer. Langston is walked within striking distance by Mike Best. The fans in attendance are stunned at the wrestling legend’s strength. While gripping the chain with his right hand, Mike reaches back to smack Vincent with the gauntlet covered left. He throws his left hand at Langston’s head…but Langston catches the hand, holding it in place. Mike looks at Langston…Langston glares back at Mike. Now it’s Mike’s turn to discover the immense strength contained within Vincent Langston’s body~

Smith: These two men are at a stalemate! The strength it takes for both of these men to combat one another is impressive, to say the least!

Hood: That gauntlet needs more rings! It’s not powerful enough!

Smith: The rings have nothing to do with it!

~These men ARE at a stalemate. Through our peripheral, we see someone enter the ring. It’s CMF! He steps through the ropes and lunges at Langston, hammering him in the side of the head with a double ax handle. Meyhu and Paras step into the ring. Kael does the same. All six men converge in the center of the ring, battling it out. Langston and Best are on the outside of the fracas. Kael and CMF throw fists with Meyhu and Paras! The fans are going wild! CMF throws a wild roundhouse kick at Meyhu. Meyhu ducks pick CMF up and hit an Atomic Drop!!! CMF stumbles forward, tumbling through the ropes, to the outside. Meyhu spots Best. Before he can go after the man with the gauntlet, he notices Paras struggling with Kael. Meyhu rushes over and drills Kael in the side of the head with an elbow. Paras throws a right hand. Kael stumbles back. He’s being battered by both Meyhu and Paras…he tumbles through the ropes, to the outside. This leaves Best alone with the three members of team “OCW.” Langston swings his chain and heads for Best. Mike, a smart man, hops through the ropes, to the outside, to regroup. The fans boo! They thought this match was about to get underway but…not yet~

Smith: Paras, Meyhu and Langston have cleaned house! It’s not looking good for the eMpire!

Hood: Meyhu jumped Max like a fucking thief in an alleyway. I thought you were better than that, Meyhu!

Smith: Hey, he’s not the one sporting a giant, metal gauntlet.

Hood: Best is simply counteracting that goofy ass chain.

~Best curses on the outside. Max is seething, staring up at Meyhu. CMF is leaning over. His tailbone hurts from the atomic drop. Mike corrals the troops behind the ring post. They appear to be strategizing. Paras watches from inside the ring. Meyhu pats Paras on the back and encourages him to ‘go for it.’ Paras looks at Meyhu as if he’s crazy. Meyhu turns around and looks at Vincent asking him if he wants at it. Langston shakes his head ‘no’. So, Meyhu shrugs and backs up into his team’s corner, facing The eMpire’s. He leans back, coiling his momentum~

Smith: What’s he doing?

Hood: I think we’re about to find out just how ‘marvelous’ the marvel truly is.

Smith: There’s no way…

~Meyhu takes off in a full sprint. Paras and Langston back up, giving him room. He charges at The eMpire’s corner and grabs the top rope, using it for leverage as he leaps into the air, soaring over the buckle with a somersault senton!!! The three members of The eMpire look up and are taken out by The Marvel!!! They all collapse into the dirt!! The fans leap to their feet chanting “HOLY SHIT!” Langston and Paras are impressed. They slide out of the ring to join Meyhu. Meyhu pops back to his feet, limping a bit. Paras stands over Best…he kicks his cowboy hat off and reaches for the gauntlet. He tries ripping it off. Langston joins in, helping~

Smith: They’re attempting to remove the gauntlet!

Hood: What’s going on here? Gang rape?!

Smith: No, it’s not gang rape.

Hood: Feels like gang rape!

~They look at Meyhu. The Marvel is still wincing from his move. He’s like “Seriously? I just jumped over the corner!” He sighs and jumps in, helping them rip the gauntlet from Mike’s left hand!! The crowd goes wild!! Paras holds the gauntlet in the air and slides into the ring with it, taking it to his team’s corner, placing it on the top step behind the post. Langston and Meyhu pull Mike to his feet. Langston rips Mike’s coat off and tosses arguably the most arrogant wrestler alive into the ring. Langston slides in behind him. Meyhu heads back to his corner…as he does, he walks past Max and CMF…they are still down. He gives them both a kick while walking by…the fans pop. Langston stands over Mike, inside the ring, chain in hand. Scruff calls for the bell! Fort OCW explodes with cheers…FINALLY~

Smith: And we’re finally underway!

Hood: Langston needs to get rid of that chain!

Smith: That’s Scruff’s call, Hood.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~Langston looks ready to abuse Mike with his chain. But, Scruff steps in. He warns Langston against using the chain. He says “disqualification.” The crowd BOOOOS. Langston looks down at Scruff, disappointed. He wants to hurt Mike…he wants to hurt him so bad. But, he realizes by using the chain not only would he lose his shot at the OCW Title but Mike would become the Savage Champion. So, Langston heads over to his team's corner and deposits the chain over the top rope, to the outside. Paras nods as if to say ‘good move.’ Meyhu doesn’t seem a little disappointed~

Smith: Meyhu doesn’t as happy as he should.

Hood: Why would he be happy? If Langston uses that chain, he’s eliminated, and Best is fucked up.

Smith: Ah, true.

Hood: You clearly don’t think like a Marvel.

~Langston turns around and heads toward Mike. He grabs Mike by the hair, pulling him to his feet. Mike lunges forward with a headbutt into Langston’s abdomen!! The Legend stumbles backward. Mike pops to his feet and throws a vicious forearm into Langston’s back!! Vincent straightens up, arching his back in pain. On the outside we see Max and CMF returning to their feet. Max removes the bandana around his mouth, along with his cowboy hat and coat. He’s dressed to compete…he’s ready to fight. CMF remains in full costume. They take their spot on the apron, pleased to find Mike in control~

Smith: And this is why Mike Best is one of the most decorated competitors in pro wrestling history…no matter what you do to this man, he fights back.

Hood: He’s the best!

Smith: Yes, yes…we get it.

~Mike delivers a vicious knife edged chop into Langston’s chest. This, for whatever reason, wakes Langston up. His eyes widen, glaring down at Mike. Mike throws another chop. Langston leans into it. He reaches out and grabs Mike by the throat, no selling the chop. Mike reaches for Vincent’s arm, trying to pry his neck free. Langston leans forward, his eyes narrowing as he looks right into Mike’s soul. Best gurgles and gags, gasping for air. Max appears ready to enter the ring. Vincent picks Mike off the mat for a chokeslam. Mike manages to break free, taking Langston down with a Fujiwara armbar!! Mike leans back, trying to rip Langston’s right arm out of the socket. Langston, remembering Social Justice, does what he must…he uses Mike’s momentum in his favor, rolling over, and finding himself on top of Mike in a pinning predicament. Scruff slides in~

1!

Kick Out!

Smith: Mike not holding onto that arm for long.

Hood: No fucking way, man. At this point, it’s about survival.

~Mike pops back to his feet. As does Langston. Vincent works his right arm back and forth. Mike backs up, into his corner. He reaches over and tags Max. The crowd gets nervous when Max steps in…this man is a killer. He enters in through the ropes and heads right up to Langston. Vincent doesn’t flinch. Paras slaps his hands together, trying to get Langston’s attention…but The Legend appears ready to traverse this trail alone. Before Max reaches Langston, Mike takes off, hitting the ropes. Vincent turns around…he takes his eyes off Max for a second allowing Kael to stun him with a Mongolian Chop!! Langston’s shoulders seize up. Best bounces off the ropes, leaps into the air and drops Langston with a bulldog!! He slides out of the ring upon hitting the move, leaving Max alone in the ring with Langston~

Smith: You can’t take your eyes off any of these eMpire members.

Hood: Langston’s good but he hasn’t logged near the amount of ring time these other five competitors have. Which means he’s basically fucked. No wonder he walks around with a chain.

Smith: Instinct can sometimes trump experience, Hood.

Hood: A woman tell you that? If so, she lied.

~Max throws a kick into the back of Langston’s head. Vincent, feeling the dangerous nature of the impact, rolls into a corner and sits up, holding the back of his head. Max takes his knee and jams it into Vincent’s face. He lowers it, into Langston’s throat. Scruff administers a five count. Max removes the knee at five. He grabs Vincent by the head, pulling him to his feet. Vincent shoves Max back! He throws a right hand…Kael blocks it and dives forward with a headbutt, using his steel enforced eye patch!! Langston’s knees wobble. He stumbles toward the center of the ring, falling to one knee. Max approaches Langston from behind and fishhooks the sides of his mouth. Vincent yells out in pain. Scruff leans in, asking Langston if he wants to give it up. Langston yells “NO!” Max pulls back even harder, trying to turn Langston into the joker, apparently~

Smith: This Max Kael is one dangerous individual, Hood.

Hood: Yea, you know a guy is mean when he hangs a dude his first night in the company.

Smith: Well, yea, I guess there’s some truth to that.

~Langston fires up! The sides of his mouth appear vulnerable – ready to rip open at any second. He gets to his feet, wearing Max as a backpack. He reaches up and grabs Max by the hair, pulling him over. Max flips over Vincent, landing on his feet. Vincent stands up straight and gets a mule kick in the gut! Max delivers a thrust punch to the throat! Langston leans into the ropes. Max knees Langston in the gut, hoists him onto his shoulder and drills him with a shoulder breaker before depositing Langston onto the mat. Kael looks down at the Savage Champion who isn’t looking very Savage…nor like a champion~

Smith: I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Nobody has handled Vincent Langston like this.

Hood: I’m telling you, man! Haven’t I been saying it? Max Kael has been way, way, WAY undervalued since stepping foot in OCW. This man is going to win tonight!

Smith: I’m starting to think there’s truth in those words.

Hood: As long as shitty shenanigans don’t get in his way, Max Kael is looking like the next OCW Champion.

~CMF grabs Max’s attention. He’s eager to get in the ring and play around with the reposed body of Vincent Langston. Kael, for the first time all evening, lets his guard down. He sighs and heads over, tagging the anxious Farthington into the match. CMF lets out a ‘YeeHaw!’ while hopping over the top rope with ease. His hat remains on…his gun is still holstered and his beard is in place. In fact, the only thing out of place at the moment would be CMF’s appearance~

Smith: Look at this man! He’s going to wrestle like that?

Hood: Dude, the man is committed to staying in character. He went to a Halloween party dressed as a vampire and found this super hot girl. He hit on her all night. She was ready to go back to his place and fuck. However, the sun came up, and CMF ran away, leaving her behind so he could avoid the daylight. The dude is dedicated.

Smith: That sounds retarded.

Hood: Hey, don’t look at me! I’m just relaying intel.

~CMF delivers a well placed boot into Langston’s face. He holds his boot up to show that it’s a pretty painful looking cowboy boot…or, at least painful for whoever suffers its heel. CMF, with his leg, still lifted, displaying the boot he’s very proud of, pulls his leg back, jumps up and drops a knee into Vincent’s face! Langston rolls over, covering his face in pain. CMF returns to his feet and saunters around the ring. He removes his pistol and twirls it around~

Smith: I think he’s taking this match a bit too lightly.

Hood: What are you talking about? He’s got a gun! He’s the most well-armed person in this match!

Smith: That gun isn’t real!

~CMF points the pistol at the back of Langston’s head and does a mock ‘firing’. He laughs and twirls the pistol around again. He goes to put it in the holster but misses. The pistol hits the mat. CMF goes after it. Langston rolls over and sees his adversary reaching for a fake weapon. He crawls forward and rolls CMF up! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!

NO! Kick out!!

Smith: Farthington kicked out!

Hood: Holy shit!

Smith: That man’s juvenile hubris nearly cost him his shot at the OCW Title!

~CMF pops back to his feet. A look of shock covers his face. Langston manages to get to one knee before being struck with a knee lift to the side of the head. The upward trajectory stands him up…he stumbles back into a corner. CMF grabs his gun and slams it into the holster, angrily. He charges at Langston and spins around for a spinning elbow. Langston catches him!!! Langston lifts him up and drops him to the mat with a Full Nelson Slam!!! CMF hits hard! The ring shakes with impact. Mike throws his hands in the air. Max shakes his head. Meyhu and Paras extend their arms. The crowd goes wild~

Smith: Langston caught him! Farthington’s foolishness cost his team the advantage!

Hood: It’s that gun’s fault. That’s a faulty gun!

Smith: It’s a fake gun, and it has no business being involved in this match…same with the beard!

~Langston, on all fours, looks over to his corner. He gets to his feet and tags in Paul Paras! The place explodes!! Paras steps in through the ropes. Meyhu looks annoyed he didn’t get the tag…but he swallows whatever he’s feeling. Paras goes right after CMF. CMF is on all fours, beginning to head to his corner…Paras jumps up and comes down with a double foot stomp into CMF’s back, flattening him out. He grabs both of CMF’s legs and leans back with a Boston Crab!!! CMF reaches out, agony wrenching his face. Best and Kael try to reach his arms, but he’s too far away~

Smith: And Paras will begin the slow, agonizing process of wearing Farthington down.

Hood: Yea while Langston is brute strength and Meyhu is superior athleticism…Paras wrestles with his mind. He’s out there playing chess while everyone else is playing Galaga.

Smith: Strange analogy

~Paras looks around, taking stock of his positioning within the ring. CMF isn’t tapping; he’s not close to tapping. So, Paras decides to extend the punishment. In one fluid motion, he transitions from a Boston crab to a crossface!! The fans once again go wild!! CMF’s nose is shoved up near his eyes. He reaches out with his arm, waving it around in dramatic fashion. The fans all yell “TAP! TAP! TAP!” Best looks around, nervously. Kael leans in, keeping his eye on the action~

Smith: Paras is bending Farthington in a very awkward manner! He’s worked on his lower back; now he’s working on the upper portion of Cecilworth’s torso!

Hood: Fucking Paras…guy reads too much! He needs to watch some reality tv like a normal person!

Smith: Don’t get angry with him because he’s worked his entire life to increase his knowledge.

Hood: Blah!

~There is a giant BASH sound near the entrance to the arena. Everyone turns and looks toward the noise. There is another BASH! We zoom in and get a closer look at the doors. Another BASH! We see the doors vibrate…dust and bits of wood fly forward. Scruff heads for the ropes, peering toward the entrance. Mike, the only person NOT watching the doors, toes the apron and throws a kick through the ropes at Paul’s head. Paul catches Mikes foot!! Best hops around on the apron…Paul drops to the mat with a dragon screw leg whip!!! Mike’s knee bends awkwardly over the middle rope before he crashes onto the apron and finally lands in the dirt! This doesn’t receive the pop it deserves as the fans continue to stare at the entrance. We get another loud BASH. Paul, this time, turns and looks. CMF remains on the mat, breathing heavily, trying to erase the pain he’s feeling~

Smith: What IS that?

Hood: I don’t know…but whatever it is…it’s fucking huge.

~The doors finally burst open!! The fans gasp with horror – the behemoth known as DURANGO emerges! He heads to the ring pushing a wheelchair containing Mario Maurako. One fan screams “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!” Another replies “THAT’S DURANGO!!” Paul grabs Scruff and points at the monster heading their way, obviously demanding it gets removed. Scruff waves security over. Meyhu claps his hands together, getting Paul’s attention. He points at CMF who is crawling toward his team’s corner. Paras hustles over, grabbing CMF by the feet and dragging him back into the middle of the ring~

Smith: That’s Durango!! Get him out of here!

Hood: Dude, he’s escorting Mario down here for a front row view.

Smith: Get them BOTH out of here! They don’t need to be involved in this match!

Hood: Oh chillax, man. Durango is a nice guy…haven’t you been following Cecilworth’s adventures?

~Paras grabs CMF by the hair and pulls the arrogant lad to his feet. He whips him into Team OCW’s corner. CMF hits hard. Meyhu and Langston hold their hands up, neither wanting to risk a DQ (as if they’d really get DQ’d, but you have to admire their adherence to the rules). Paras charges in and drills and knee into CMF’s sternum. He takes a few steps back and looks CMF up and down. He slaps the hat off (which is somehow still on CMF’s head). He grabs the beard and rips it off! CMF cries out as though his actual beard has been ripped away. Paras rips the straps off of CMF’s shoulders, yanking it free and tossing it, along with the gun, from the ring. Paul then rips CMF’s shirt open down the middle, exposing CMF’s chest~

Hood: I had no idea Paul was such a big fan of Farthington’s!

Smith: Oh please…we all know Paras doesn’t have time for foolishness. He’s dressing CMF back down to normal.

~Paras rears back and delivers a HUGE knife edged chop to CMF’s chest! CMF yells out in pain. Durango turns his head, hearing CMF cry out. Paras reaches over and tags Meyhu in. The CHAMP (not literally) leaps over the top rope, into the ring. CMF tries to walk out of the corner, but Meyhu holds him in place. Meyhu raises his hand high in the air and brings it crashing down with another HUGE chop/slap into CMF’s chest!! CMF again yells out in pain. Durango begins to march that way, leaving Mario parked near the eMpire’s corner. Best is holding his knee next to Mario’s wheelchair. Meyhu tags in Langston. A few OCW security members run at Durango. They try to restrain him but Durango tosses them hither and yon as though they weighed nothing. Langston enters. Meyhu hits the apron and turns, spotting Durango. His eyes say ‘Holy Shit!’ Meyhu hops off the apron and gets away from the oncoming beast. Langston reaches back with his arm and delivers a knife-edged chop that thrusts upward, across CMF’s chest and into his throat!! The fans grimace from the sound and impact of this chop. Langston takes a step back. CMF leans forward, spent. Paras wants back in, so the Savage champion extends a tag~

Smith: They’re working CMF over…but that THING is heading their way and can’t be stopped!

Hood: Remember Stonewall Jackson? Durango is like a bigger Stonewall Jackson!

Smith: I’m sure Paras remembers Stonewall Jackson.

~Paras unleashes a flurry of the nastiest knife edged chops you’ve ever seen into CMF’s chest!! He delivers so many, so fast that we start to see blood spatter into the air. A thinly veiled red mist surrounds the corner. The fans are going wild!! CMF appears ready to collapse at any moment. A giant hand reaches into the ring, grabbing Paras by the shoulder. It belongs to Durango!! He pulls Paras over the top rope and to the outside!!! Paras hits hard. Langston hops off the apron, ready to do battle with Durango. Durango’s fists are balled up; his mannerisms are that of a beast ready to pounce. Langston isn’t backing down…he’s faced the biggest and the baddest~

Smith: We’ve got to get him out of here! He’s ruining this match!

Hood: You want to go down there and remove the guy?

Smith: No

Hood: Good…it’s an impossible task. It’d take something remarkable to get Durango away from that ring.

~“Durango!” a firm voice calls out. Durango pauses and turns, staring toward the entrance. The visage of a stoic, tough man stands between the giant, broken, wooden doors. Durango moves toward this man. Langston doesn’t really get what’s going on but he seems happy that he doesn’t have to battle Durango. He moves to help Paras. CMF staggers out of the corner, dropping to both knees. We see drops of blood fall from his chest to the mat. Max reaches out, urging CMF to make the tag. Meanwhile, Durango stops pacing. He stars the visage down. The man calling Durango out is wearing a cowboy hat with long, thin hair waving around from underneath it. He also appears to be sporting a beard. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” the man asks. It’s a bit preposterous as this man is way shorter and way thinner than Durango. But, you have to admire this guy’s confidence~

Smith: Who is that?!

Hood: An idiot.

~The two have a stand off. We hear some whistling in the background. A tumbleweed blows between them. A flash of light shows us who this man is…IT’S EHUD OF MOAB!! The fans go wild chanting “EHUD!” Ehud throws a card into the dirt. It’s the 10 of spaces. He throws another card into the dirt…it’s the J of Spades. He throws a third card into the dirt, it’s the Q of Spades. He throws a fourth into the dirt…it’s the K of Spades. He’s got one more card remaining. Durango’s mighty chest heaves with anticipation. He seems ready to kill this old, crazy fool. Ehud casually flips the fifth card through the air…it hits the dirt revealing…THE ACE OF SPADES!! The crowd goes wild!!~

Smith: What is going on??

Hood: This is straight out of Maverick, Smith. The greatest western ever made in the early 90s!

Smith: Ugh, whatever…can we get back to the wrestling, PLEASE?

~Durango charges at Ehud!! Ehud doesn’t move. Durango gets closer and closer and closer…Ehud remains still. Hell, even if he’d move we doubt he’d get out of the way in time. Durango nears Ehud. Fans turn away, not wishing to witness an old man crushed to death. Durango reaches Ehud but, as he does…Ehud pulls on something, straightening out a line of rope!! Durango trips over the rope and spins, hitting the ground with a mighty thud!! Dozens of security members jump on top of Durango, subduing the man. Ehud looks toward the ring at Paras, Langston, and Meyhu. He tips his hat at them and turns to walk away (very slowly)…the fans give Ehud a huge ovation~

Smith: I don’t know how…I’m afraid to ask why…but Ehud of Moab has just solved our Durango problem!

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~Paras rolls back into the ring. Langston and Meyhu are on the apron…they look out at the fans after having just witnessed this ridiculous act amid a great OCW Title match. In unison, the three men nod and throw it to the crowd. The crowd yells “CLASSIC OCW, BABY!” Then, the tag heard round the world sounds out as CMF slaps the hand of Max Kael! Max enters the ring, and the comedic vibe dies a quick death, giving way to the serious nature of the moment. Paras, holding his shoulder reaches over and gives Meyhu the tag. The Marvel leaps into the ring over the top rope, showing off his athleticism in the manner only Meyhu can. In the background we see Durango being hauled away by a few dozen men. Ehud is still walking away, slowly. But now we return our full focus to the match~

Smith: And we return to the seriousness of the situation after that…departure.

Hood: Dude, Durango is serious! He was about to wreck everything. Ehud may have just saved the OCW Championship from falling into the hands of the eMpire!

Smith: Ugh…Ehud

~Max and Meyhu circle one another. Meyhu makes a few derogatory comments about Max’s missing eye. Kael doesn’t respond…instead, the menacing wrestling legend watches Meyhu with that lone eye like a predator tracking prey. CMF sits on the apron looking at his chest, complaining about the violence. Mike is on his feet, working his knee back and forth. Mario wheels up, checking on Mike’s knee. Back in the ring, Max and Meyhu lock up! Max twists Meyhu’s arm. Meyhu rolls forward, kips up, grabs Max’s arm and attempts to twist in return. Max, however, lunges forward and drills Meyhu with a short arm clothesline!! Meyhu hits the mat, hard~

Smith: We’re seeing a very unique match up right now, Hood. The HOW legend, Max Kael gainst the OCW legend, Matt Meyhu.

Hood: Yea Max Kael doesn’t fuck around, Smith.

Smith: He does not.

~Kael delivers some very precise kicks into Meyhu’s back and ribcage. Meyhu reacts painfully to each one. We see Mike back on the apron…he’s talking to CMF who returns to his feet. They are back in position. Max pulls Meyhu to his feet and bullies him into a corner. He burrows several shoulders into Meyhu’s abdomen before tossing Meyhu into the center of the ring with a hip toss. Meyhu lands, seated up…Max walks forward and simply boots him in the back of the head. He grabs Matt and throws him into his team’s corner. Mike uses the tag rope and starts to choke Meyhu with it. Max distracts Scruff…the fans boo~

Smith: C’mon, Scruff…pay attention! The OCW Title is on the line!

Hood: He is paying attention…I think Max got a splinter in his eye. This could be serious.

Smith: You’re the one who needs to get serious!

~Scruff finally turns around and sees Meyhu being choked. He rushes in saying “Hey! Hey!” Mike drops the tag rope and holds his hands high in the air. CMF reaches for the tag rope, thinking it’s his turn. Mike slaps his hands away as nonchalant as he can. Max marches forward, casually pushing Scruff aside, throwing straight right hands across Meyhu’s face. Every punch, kick that Max delivers have a tremendous impact. Mike extends his hand for a tag…the fans boo. Max obliges his brother. Mike steps in…the two men lift Meyhu up, turn around and drill him into the center of the ring with a double spinebuster. Mike makes the cover~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: Nope, it’s going to take more than that!

Hood: I like how Mike is man enough to step in there and attempt the pin.

Smith: Whatever, he’s simply trying to steal the glory.

~Mike pummels Meyhu in the head with hard, quick right hands. He pops back to his feet and pulls Meyhu to his. He whips Meyhu into the ropes and jumps up with a V-Trigger knee. Meyhu ducks and hits the ropes a second time. Mike turns around and narrowly averts a huge clothesline! He grabs Meyhu from behind, applying a sleeper!! He drags the former champion back into his team’s corner, holding out his hand for CMF to tag. The bloody chested Farthington enters the ring…Mike keeps Meyhu corralled in the sleeper while CMF unloads with rights and lefts into Matt’s midsection. He then pulls out some handguns (miming) and goes “PEW! PEW! PEW!” at Meyhu. Mike steps through the ropes, back onto the apron~

Smith: The eMpire is working very well together. We’re begging to see the cohesion we all felt would give them the initial advantage.

Hood: Honestly, the elimination aspect to the first phase of this Process of Eliimination Match is for Team OCW’s benefit, I think.

Smith: A point that could definitely be argued.

~Meyhu suddenly charges forward, lowering his shoulder into CMF’s midsection, attempting to escape the eMpire’s corner. CMF snares Meyhu’s head in the process and drops him to the mat with a DDT! Meyhu is face down on the mat. CMF pops back to his feet and tags Max back into the ring. Max steps in. CMF pulls Meyhu up and delivers an Irish Whip…Meyhu runs at Max, Max spins around and delivers a roaring elbow to the side of Meyhu’s head!! Meyhu’s body crumbles to the mat. CMF exits the ring leaving Max alone with Meyhu~

Smith: Vicious elbow by Max Kael. Meyhu is in serious trouble.

Hood: Yea, he’s trying, but the eMpire is too strong.

Smith: If he can make a tag or at the very least hit some kind of move to stymie the eMpire’s momentum they can turn the tide.

~Max yanks Meyhu to his feet and delivers a huge knife edged chop!! Meyhu leans into Max upon impact. Max hooks both of Meyhu’s arm and begins delivering headbutts to the former champion!! The headbutts are fast and vicious…they strike with expert precision…Meyhu’s legs turn gelatinous. He’d fall if it weren’t for Max holding him up. Max finally hoists Meyhu up, over his shoulder and drills him into the mat with a Powerslam!! Max remains on top of Meyhu with the pin attempt~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: The Marvel remains in this match!

Hood: Yea, but for how long? Max Kael is doing work against the OCW legend!

Smith: Meyhu’s withstood a lot in his OCW career. I’m sure he’s got a ways to go before succumbing to the vicious Max Kael.

~Kael returns to his feet, moving in methodical fashion. He leans in a corner, watching The Marvel. Meyhu struggles, trying to get to his feet…he’s on all fours. Max takes off and leaps up, looking for a Curb-Stomp (The iMperial Star Destroyer)…but Meyhu pops to his feet, catches Max, spins around and drops him with a powerbomb!!! The ring shakes from impact!! Both men are down!! The fans in attendance chant for Meyhu! Best throws his arms in the air, frustrated. CMF’s handguns appear to be out of ammunition. Paras and Langston extend their hands, eager for a tag~

Smith: And, as usual, Meyhu rises from the grave!

Hood: Max was going for the kill, man. That dude doesn’t fuck around.

Smith: A very, very dangerous man.

~Meyhu rolls over and spots his partners, arms extended. Max sits up, somewhat groggily. Meyhu struggles to his feet, looking to make the tag. He, however, pauses…he looks over at the prone Max and smiles. The fans yell “NO! MAKE THE TAG!” But Meyhu turns around and goes after Max~

Smith: Meyhu’s hubris getting the best of him!

Hood: He wants to single handily defeat the eMpire!

Smith: It could cost him a shot at the OCW Title!

~Meyhu grabs Max by the hair, yanking him to his feet. He hooks him for The Ego Trip! Max delivers a knee into Meyhu’s gut! The Marvel doubles over. Max hooks Meyhu’s arms, lifts him up and drops him on his head with Maximum Kaelnage (Tiger Driver 91)!!! Meyhu’s body is folded up on the mat!! Kael rolls away and reaches out, tagging CMF! CMF hops into the ring and dives ahead, covering Meyhu~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Another kick out by Meyhu…but the eMpire has such control over this match it’s hard to fathom Meyhu mounting a comeback without making a tag.

Hood: He had the chance but he chose to try and pin Max Kael. Big mistake.

Smith: Indeed

~CMF pops back to his feet, his chest is beginning to darken and callous over, a bit. He stomps on Meyhu, keeping the OCW legend down. CMF backs against the ropes and steps through them, keeping his focus on Meyhu. For the first time this evening we see focus as CMF’s main priority. The Marvel rises, slowly. CMF jumps up, springboards off and smacks Meyhu with a flying European Uppercut!! Meyhu tumbles backward, into the ropes…he winds up draped sideways over the bottom rope. CMF pops to his feet and turns toward his corner. Kael nods…Mike yells at him to stay focused~

Smith: There is no denying the talent of Farthington. It’s his focus…can the man remained focus long enough to win at this level.

Hood: I think he can…look at him; he’s just warming up!

CMF drags Meyhu near the center of the ring, listening to his eMpirical brothers. He pulls Meyhu up and hooks him, lifting him in the air and dropping him on his head with a Fisherman Brainbuster (Worthless)!!! Meyhu’s head hits hard…CMF seamlessly transitions into a cross armbar!!! It’s his finishing submission, Article 50!!! The crowd rises…they urge Meyhu to do something. Paras and Langston lean forward, shouting words of encouragement Meyhu’s way. Best slaps Kael in the arm like a proud big brother saying, “Look! He’s going to beat Meyhu!”~

Smith: Meyhu’s in deep trouble! Farthington nearly ripped the arm off of a far larger man than Meyhu a few weeks ago!

Hood: Man…maybe Meyhu’s getting too old, ya know? Maybe tha lime tint is beginning to turn into an average shade of green.

Smith: Don’t let him hear you say that.

~Mario remains in his wheelchair, cheering from the outside. People behind stare at him, still skeptical as to who exact ailment. Meyhu’s arm is bent backward, at an awkward angle. He yells out in pain, kicking his legs out, trying to reach the ropes. Best yells out “WORTHLESS!” at the former champ. Meyhu hears the derogatory term. “Worthless?” he thinks to himself. He’s the fucking Marvel!! Meyhu begins to power up! CMF looks around, anxiously...he’s wrenching and pulling, trying to prevent this tide of momentum. Meyhu rolls toward CMF, getting to his knees. He grabs onto CMF with his free hand…he stands, lifts CMF up and SLAMS HIM INTO THE MAT!! The entire ring shakes!! Paras and Langston clap and extend their hands, urging Meyhu to make the tag. CMF gasps for air…the wind’s been knocked from his lungs~

Smith: There’s a lot of arrogance embedded within The Marvel. There’s also a lot of Pride.

Hood: Pryde is Meyhu’s father?

Smith: THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT.

~Meyhu looks over and realizes he’s got to make a tag. His right arm is pulsating with pain. CMF sits up, finally able to catch his breath. We see Mike talking with Max, making the choking gesture. Max nods without looking, clearly listening in. CMF looks over and crawls with a sense of urgency, tagging Max back in! Max steps into the ring. Meyhu rises to his feet and lunges forward tagging in LANGSTON! The crowd goes wild!! Langston steps into the ring and stares at Max. Max doesn’t flinch~

Smith: The Savage Champion has yet to meet a man that can match him from a strength perspective.

Hood: He may have met that match tonight, Smith.

Smith: Max Kael is an animal unlike any Langston has faced.

~Langston yells out and rushes at Max, throwing a haymaker. Max blocks it!! He grabs Langston’s hand and stares right into his soul with his piercing blue eye. Langston’s stunned. He’s shocked. Maybe even a little shaken. Max dives forward with a head butt, rocking the Savage champion. Mike yells out at Scruff..grabbing his attention. Scruff turns from the action. Max reaches in and wraps his hands around Langston’s throat. Vincent gasps for air…he drops to one knee. He extends his hand out, for a tag. Paras is too far, but Meyhu is within reach. Meyhu does NOT want back in. So, he looks around and sees THE CHAIN~

Smith: What’s Meyhu going to do?

Hood: Whatever he can to win, Smith. That’s how he became this promotion’s foundation.

Smith: Mike’s got Scruff tied up, so anything goes for the time being.

~Instead of making the tag, Meyhu places the chain in Langston’s hand. Langston spins around and blasts Kael in the head with the chain!!! At first, Kael no sells it. The chain hit most of his reinforced ocular socket. Vincent brings the chain back around in a backhanded motion, striking the bare face of Kael. This has an impact!! Kael loses his grip, stumbling back. Mike, witnessing the atrocity, throws Scruff back, yelling at him to pay attention. Langston kicks the chain out of the way and he drops Kael with SCARS OF WAR!! Scruff sees the pin and slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~Kael kicks out almost immediately after three. Langston sits back and slides into his team’s corner, staring at Kael. Kael glares back, reaching up and removing some blood from the side of his face where the chain struck. The fans are going wild. But you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the reactions of the two men in the ring. Mike kicks at the bottom rope, pissed off. He hops off the apron and orders CMF alongside. Kael rises to his feet, stalking Langston. Paras steps into the ring, getting in between the two. Max recognizes Paul and seems to relish in the fact he has an opportunity to hurt the OCW Champion. Best, meanwhile, is on the outside strategizing with CMF and Mario~

Belvedere: Max Kael has been eliminated. Would Max Kael please, exit the ring. I repeat…would Max Kael PLEASE exit the ring.

Smith: I don’t think Max is exiting that ring under his own power.

Hood: Langston rises, joining Paras at his side as they stare down Max. Langston has his chain. A gold hand taps Paras on the shoulder. Paul turns and sees Mike’s gauntlet, offered to him by Meyhu. Meyhu takes a seat on the top buckle, patting both men on the shoulder. It’s at this point when a man would cut his losses and leave. But Max isn’t an ordinary man. He lunges forward, attacking both Paul and Vincent~

Smith: He’s crazy!

Hood: Man you know when you’ve survived a near-death experience. Like you look at video of a diving trip you went on and notice this giant great white in the background? That’s what this feels like…Team OCW somehow survived Max Kael.

Smith: He’s dominated most of this match.

~Taken by surprise, Langston and Paras falter back. Meyhu nearly hops off the top buckle. Langston and Paras fight back. Langston hits Max with the chain. Paras, drops the gauntlet, refusing to use it and lifts a knee into Max’s chin. Max stumbles back. His head raises and he looks ready for more. Mike, CMF, and Mario all look on, slightly amazed. Suddenly, OCW officials hit the ring, working to corral Max Kael~

Smith: Finally! Let’s get him out of here!

Hood: Damn! I was really wanting to see how far he could push it.

Smith: He had his shot…and I’m sure he’ll get many more. But for tonight, we’re down to five.

~It’s not easy, but they manage to force Max from the ring. He fights every step of the way, tossing aside his fair share of OCW employees. But, eventually, they manage to wrestle him out of the arena. During the removal, both teams convene. Mike is upset that they’re at a disadvantage, numbers wise. Mario tries to calm him down, suggesting that they work to eliminate Meyhu and Langston first. CMF rubs his nonexistent fake beard. Over in the corner of Team OCW we see Meyhu offering up an idea. Langston listens in. Paras cuts him off saying, “With all due respect, Matt. I know these guys a lot better than you do.” Meyhu straightens up, taking visible offense to this remark~

Smith: It sounds like the eMpire are on the same page whereas the mishmashed Team OCW continues to butt heads.

Hood: Who does Paras think he’s talking to, huh? That’s the champ!

Smith: Technically Paras is the champ, Hood. And, speaking of Paras…interesting that Mario would suggest taking Paras to the final phase.

Hood: He’s hedging his bets, Smith. He wants the eMpire to capture the OCW Title. But, if they don’t, he’d like to see Paras retain, confirming that he’d get his shot at the belt by cashing in his match against Paul.

~Scruff tries to get both teams back into the ring. Paul looks at his teammates, after explaining some strategy. Langston nods. Paul looks at Meyhu, who is visibly cold. He asks Meyhu if he’s alright. Meyhu responds very short and to the point, “Yea, I’m cool.” Paras has no time to read between the lines. He looks up at Scruff and questions Mario’s presence. Mario looks across the ring complaining that his legs are messed up, he’s lost feeling in them. Paras, as before, isn’t really buying it. But Mario is giving it the hard sell. So, Paras throws his hands at the situation, returning to his team’s corner. Langston is in the ring. Mike and CMF finish talking with Mario and stand in their corner. CMF steps into the ring, ready to go~

Smith: And we’re back! Action is resuming!

Hood: Just feels like a giant void has been left in Kael’s absence.

Smith: A shocking first elimination…but, then again, I think any elimination would have been shocking.

~CMF charges at Langston with his arms up. Langston, surprised, doesn’t hesitate, rushing to lock up with CMF. CMF ducks and slides. He slides toward Team OCW’s corner, out of the ring and snares the Gauntlet! CMF is caught with the post in front of him…Meyhu on one side, Paras on the other. He’s got to pick a side to run toward. Meyhu’s the taller, lankier individual. So, CMF takes off, outside the ring, in the direction of Paul. Paul leaps off the apron and strikes CMF in the head with a knee!!! CMF’s body flips horribly to the side, landing nearly headfirst into the dirt! He drops the gauntlet. The crowd goes wild!! Mike buries his face in his team’s top buckle. Paul grabs the Gauntlet and slams it back in his team’s corner, under the bottom buckle. He grabs CMF and throws him in the ring. Langston covers him for the pin~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Farthington kicked out! I can’t believe it!

Hood: That guy is fucking tough, man!

Smith: We was on a suicide mission to retrieve the gauntlet and, somehow, managed to remain alive in this contest!

~Langston yanks CMF back to his feet in a very rough manner. He throws some MMA type strikes into CMF’s body, sending the arrogant competitor flailing into a corner. Langston whips him across the ring. CMF slams into the corner. Langston charges in…CMF leaps up, kicks off of Langston’s back (who was going for a spear)…he tumbles forward, landing on his feet. Langston turns around, CMF does a backflip and hooks his legs around Langston’s head, dropping him with head scissors!!! Langston hits hard!! The crowd is wowed by CMF’s athleticism! CMF rushes over and tags Mike back in. Mike seems surprised, as though this wasn’t part of the plan…but he steps into the ring~

Smith: Yea, it’s about time he got back in there.

Hood: Work smarter, not harder, Smith.

Smith: At some point, that man is going to have to compete. I’d like to see it happen as soon as possible.

Hood: Dude’s been competing since he got here! Need I remind you? Bifford, TIO, The Lockwoods…

~Mike enters. CMF snares Langston’s arms and pins his knee against Vincent’s back, keeping him in place. Mike runs forward and blasts Vincent in the face with a penalty kick!! Langston’s body falls to the mat. Mike hops on top of the Savage Champion for the pin. CMF slides out of the ring. Scruff drops to the mat~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: Langston refuses to go down!

Hood: The man’s only been pinned once and that was after King Infinity betrayed him at Death March.

Smith: An act Collins paid for at Throwback.

~Mike, on his knees, pummels Langston in the head with straight right hands, keeping the Savage Champion subdued post kick out. He looks over at Farthington. He pulls Langston to his feet and kicks him in the gut. He throws a stiff right hand across Langston’s jaw. Vincent spins around. Mike hooks Langston around the waist…Vincent throws a back elbow which jars Mike’s equilibrium. Best stumbles into a corner. Langston turns around and charges forward…Mike moves! Langston stops short of hitting the buckles. Mike leaps on his back, looking for a backstabber…but Langston grabs onto Mike, falls backward and squashes Mike into the mat!! The fans go wild!! Mike Best is down!! Langston sits up, shaking off the damage accrued~

Smith: Vincent Langston is a man full of focus and fire. He’s been close to that OCW Championship over the past six months…tonight could be the night he claims it.

Hood: Well he’s got Mike Best down. I don’t want to confirm anything, but I’ve heard rumors that he really, really does not like Mike.

Smith: There aren’t many people on this planet who like Mike Best, Hood.

~Paras extends his hand, ready to be tagged in. Langston spots the anxious OCW Champion, but holds off. He yanks Best up and boots him in the gut. He lifts Best up for a powerbomb…Best rakes Vincent across the eyes and drops behind him…they’re back to back…Best throws his leg backward, mule kicking Langston in the balls! Vincent stumbles forward, falling to his knees. Best rushes to his corner and tags CMF back into the match. CMF and his irrirated chest, re-enter the ring. Langston stands and reaches over, tagging Paras back into the ring! The place erupts!! Paras steps into the squared circle. CMF comes to a stop…perhaps that kick to the head is still fresh in his mind~

Smith: And the champ is in!

Hood: Farthington is really fucking good…but Paras is the man. He sits atop the OCW throne.

Smith: For the moment, he does.

~CMF hesitates for just a minute before rushing in. Paras catches him, spins around and drops him with The RPW Spinebuster!!! The place goes wild!! Paras pops back to his feet. He looks over at Best. Best has a “This is not good” look on his face. Paras yanks CMF to his feet. Paras runs, hits the ropes, comes off and drills CMF in the face with Blue Angel!!! CMF flips over, landing on his front!! Paras pushes CMF onto his back and makes the cover. Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Farthington stays alive!

Hood: This fucking guy is tough, man! Paras is throwing his best shit at him and he’s refusing to stay down!

Smith: I think we’re coming to know what we all feared…the eMpire is indeed really, really, really good.

~Paras remains focused, nothing gets this man sidetracked. CMF gets to his knees. Paras steps back, near the eMpire’s corner, measuring CMF up for Acid Test! Mike Best reaches out and slaps Paul in the back of the head! Paras turns around, seriously annoyed. Mike throws his hands in the air. Paras points at Mike, pissed off. The fans are dying to see these two fight. CMF runs in from behind, delivering a rolling elbow to the back of Paul’s head!! Paras stumbles into the eMpire’s corner. CMF pulls him out, spins him around, lifts him up and drops him with a Gotch Style Piledriver in the center of the ring!! CMF covers Paras!! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP!

Smith: The champion survives…for now.

Hood: Farthington is a killer, man!

Smith: It seems he’s turned down the volume and turned up the intensity. He’s going for a knockout blow looking to send the champion home early.

~CMF looks at Scruff, questioning the man’s ability to count. He assumed that was going to be a three count…but, it wasn’t. Paul doesn’t stay down for long requiring a sense of urgency from CMF. CMF returns to his feet. He hooks Paras for a DDT, looking to further compress the champion’s neck. Paras blocks the DDT and hooks CMF for a Northern Lights Suplex!! He lifts CMF up, but Farthington manages to break free and land on his feet behind Paras, holding the champion’s neck for a neckbreaker! Paras swings it around and drops CMF with a double-armed DDT!!! CMF is face down on the mat!! “PARAS!” chants fill the Montana atmosphere as the champion has a counter for everything~

Smith: And we’re seeing why Paras is he very best in this business.

Hood: Get your ass up, Farthington!

Smith: If he eliminated Farthington that would mean Mike Best is all alone.

Hood: He wouldn’t be alone…he’s got Mario! The eMpire is never truly alone, Smith.

~Paras, once again, gets to his feet, lining CMF up for Acid Test. CMF gets to his knees, in prime position. There’s nothing Mike Best can do at this point – aside form blatantly running in. Paras charges at Farthington. CMF jumps to his feet!! He leaps into the air and grabs Paul’s arm looking to lock him in Worthless!!! Paul’s bent over at the waist with CMF trying to get him to the mat. Paul’s hanging on! If he goes down, it’ll be big trouble. Mike slaps the top buckle, trying to encourage CMF to get Paul down and over…but Paul is fighting and fighting. He’s digging down to a place deep within~

Smith: He’s doing what he does better than anyone, Hood. Blocking out that pain, seeking a boost of inspiration from within.

Hood: Yea, we saw him do this to defeat Langston. Given whatever the fuck he does daily, I think his kick to the face should be called Acid Trip instead of Acid Test.

Smith: How dare you speak ill of such a great man!

~Paul’s eyes shut…they open with renewed inspiration. He yells out, ripping his arm free!! CMF is stunned! Paul grabs CMF’s arms and begins to deliver ripcord knee strikes into CMF’s face!! One after another after another after another!! Farthington is about to fall over…Paras takes off, he hits the ropes, bounces off, flies through the air and hits CMF with ACID TEST!!! Mike Best in the background throws his arms in the air, burying his face into the buckle!! The place goes crazy!! Paul covers the unconscious body of Farthington. Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings! The place goes wild!! “PARAS!” chants fill the air followed by “OCW!” chants!! OCW crew, on the ready based upon their encounters with Durango and Max, reach in and pulls CMF out of the ring. They aren’t taking any chances…they escort a very loopy CMF out of the arena, to the back. The eMpire is down to one man. Mike hops off the apron, signaling for a timeout. The fans boo. Mike heads to Mario. Meyhu and Langston enter the ring to convene with Paras~

Belvedere: Cecilworth M! Farthington has been eliminated!

Smith: And the eMpire is down to one member remaining. What started out as a dream is turning into a nightmare for the three men who have crossed into enemy territory.

Hood: Not to beat a dead horse but it’s time for Mike to stand up and make his last stand here at Little BigHorn!

Smith: You…do know how that turned out, right?

Hood: Yea, Custer whipped them Indians because AMERICA

Smith: Yikes

~Scruff leans through the ropes to urge Mike to hurry things along. Paras leans over, catching his breath. Langston pats him on the back. Meyhu stands over both men looking a little pouty. Outside Mike looks at Mario…we overhear part of the conversation, “I get your deal with Paras. You’ve got a shot against him, and that’s fine. But the eMpire is in trouble tonight. We need your help…if you have an opportunity to give it.” Mario nods, looking at Mike. Mike pats Mario on the shoulder and turns back toward the steps~

Smith: He said it without saying it.

Hood: What did he say?

Smith: Mario might be torn, wanting Paras to win so he can get that shot against Paul for the OCW Title. But, at this stage, the eMpire can’t be picky. It’s desperation time.

~Mike stands on the apron. He yells at Scruff to get the rest of Team OCW out of the ring. Scruff motions for Langston to exit. Paras stares at Best. Best stares back at Paras. This place is holding their breath…they are ready to explode. A rematch nearly ten years in the making!! Best places one foot between the ropes, entering the ring~

Smith: Oh man…we’re about to see Paras and Mike Best go at it!

Hood: Hell yea!

Smith: Paras has been unbeatable since joining OCW. I don’t think there’s a person in this company that can take him down, one on one.

~Mike gets his other foot into the ring. He moves toward Paras. Paras moves toward Mike. Paras is turned around, violently. Meyhu punches him in the face!! The crowd is shocked. Meyhu hooks Paras and drops him with THE EGO TRIP!!! Paras is down!! Paras is down!!! The fans have gone silent. Meyhu exits the ring. Mike looks around…he, too, is stunned. His look of shock turns into a smile. He rushes over and jumps on top of Paras…Paul’s legs are near the ropes. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

~In the background we see Mario leap from his chair!! He reaches into the ring and…HOLDS DOWN PAUL’S LEGS!!~

3!!!!!

Smith: OH MY GOSH! OH MY GHOS!

Hood: WHOAAAA

Smith: Meyhu just screwed Paras!

~Once Mario lets go, Paul is able to kick out easily. He pops to his feet, looking around. The bell rings~

Belvedere: Paul Paras has been eliminated!

~The fans BOOOOOO!!! Paras puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. Mike’s already got the hell away from him. Langston is glaring at Meyhu. Meyhu is standing tall and proud. Paul looks at Mike Best…he looks at Matt Meyhu…he finally looks at Mario Maurako. Mario is on his feet…he sees Paul looking down at him. Mario rushes to get back into his chair, acting like his legs hurt. Paul hops through the ropes~

Smith: He’s not hurt! He just helped SCREW Paul out of his dream of retaining the OCW Championship!

Hood: It’s a miracle!! Mario’s legs, for a moment, were back to normal!

Smith: Don’t you dare throw the term miracle around in reference to Mario’s fake injury!

~Paul begins to remove athletic tape from around his wrists and hands. Mario wheels backward, creating some distance. He tries to plead with Paul. Paras is having none of it. Paul’s pace quickens…he’s walking fast…now he’s jogging…now he’s in a full on sprint. Mario throws his hands up yelling “No! NO!” Paul leaps into the air and kicks Mario in the face with ACID TEST!!! Mario flies out of his wheelchair tumbling into the dirt surface!! Fort OCW goes wild!! Paul pops to his feet and looks down at Mario with disgust. He rips the rest of his athletic tape off and throws it down on top of Mario. He heads toward his team’s corner. Meyhu hops off the apron, ready to greet him. Paras gets up in Meyhu’s face…Meyhu looks down, over his nose at Paul~

Smith: Are these two going to go at it?

Hood: It wouldn’t do Meyhu any good.

Smith: He’s still sore over Paras ending his OCW Title reign.

Hood: Yep…I really believe Meyhu felt that Paras was unbeatable and did what he had to do to get him out of this match before they reached the triple threat.

Smith: Perhaps…it also didn’t help that Paras seemed to offend him earlier on when they were discussing strategy.

~Paul reaches over and takes THE GAUNTLET. He marches away from the ring, gauntlet in tow. The fans give Paul a standing ovation for his run as champion and his near-perfect return to OCW. He pauses…in spite of his anger, he thanks the fans. He then exits the arena. Meyhu and Langston look at one another. Mike Best is standing across the ring, on the outside, looking in through the ropes. Langston seems concerned with Meyhu. Meyhu begins to assure Langston that he’s good to go…they just needed to get rid of Paras. He brings up Social Justice. Langston nods~

Smith: So are they going to stick together? We’re officially in phase 2 at this point.

Hood: I think so…Paras defeated Meyhu. He defeated Langston. Meyhu and Langston simply weren’t good enough to defeat Paras on their own…therefore Meyhu did what he knew Langston wouldn’t. He took Paras out, opening his…their lone path toward victory.

Hood: You think Langston can trust Meyhu? He trusted a man once before – Aidan Collins. Aidan wound up stabbing Langston in the back.

Smith: I mean, I think he should. They’ve got to, at the very least, keep Best from winning this thing.

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the final phase of tonight’s Process of Elimination Match is set to get underway. The rules are simple…whoever wins the triple threat will walk away OCW Champion. And, in this case, whoever doesn’t get pinned will walk out OCW Savage Champion. The final competitors are Matt Meyhu! Savage Champion Vincent Langston! And Mike Best! Ring the bell!

~The bell sounds! The crowd goes wild. Langston motions for Meyhu to get in first…he wants to keep Meyhu in front of him at all times. Meyhu rolls his eyes and is like “Fine.” He steps into the ring. Langston follows suit. Mike slides into the ring, across from the two remaining stars from the ‘OCW’ team. Mike’s in a corner. Meyhu and Langston approach. Mike’s trapped. He considers bailing. Before he can, Langston and Meyhu lunge forward, snaring him! Mike underestimated the quickness of these two large men. They drag him into the center of the ring~

Smith: Mike Best is in BIG trouble.

Hood: Where’s Mario?

Smith: He’s been wheeled out of here…to the back for medical reasons.

Hood: Okay…so when’s the NEWEST eMpire member gonna debut and help him?

Smith: It’s not happening, Hood. He’s all alone out there.

Hood: Fuck!

~Mike tries to reason with Langston. But Vincent responds by grabbing him by the throat! Meyhu stands back. Langston lifts Best up and PLANTS him into the ring with a huge chokeslam!! Mike’s body hits hard, seizing up in pain. Meyhu, not to be outdone, reaches down and grabs Mike, yanking him to his feet. He lifts Mike over his head and drills him into the mat with an Alabama Slam!!! Mike hits hard!! He’s on his back, eyes shut. Meyhu and Langston look at one another…it’s that awkward moment of ‘who’s gonna pin him.’ Meyhu steps back and gives Langston the shot. Langston covers Best~

1!

2!

Kick Out!

Smith: And Mike Best stays alive!

Hood: You think Meyhu knew he’d kick out? I can’t see Meyhu just giving up the OCW Title like that.

Smith: I think it’s safe to say he had a pretty good idea.

~Langston throws a forearm into the chest/throat area of Mike Best. The back of Mike’s head hits the mat. Langston returns to his feet. Meyhu pats him on the back saying, “Chin up, Vinny. You’ll get em next time, maybe.” Langston turns around, glaring at Meyhu. Meyhu puts his hands up, trying to calm the big man down~

Smith: I don’t think this partnership is going to last much longer.

Hood: I’m shocked it’s lasted this long, to be honest.

Smith: Mike’s prone..a few big moves from now and he could be ready to be pinned. That means ONE of those men is going to have to sacrifice the OCW Title. I don’t see either competitor conceding the greatest prize in the industry.

~Langston pushes Meyhu. Meyhu pushes Langston back. They get in each other’s face! The crowd is cheering the impending altercation. From behind Mike Best appears! He grabs both men and drops them with a double inverted DDT!!! They hit hard, both reaching for their head and neck at the same time. Mike sits up, looking to his left and then to his right. He shakes his head~

Smith: We can’t make the mistake of counting Mike Best out.

Hood: He’s like a twenty-four time HOW champion. The man knows how to win these types of matches.

Smith: It’s a high number, but I don’t think it’s quite twenty-four.

~Meyhu is recovering first. Mike pops to his feet and throws some palm strikes into Meyhu’s body. The Marvel stumbles into a corner. Mike jumps up with a knee lift that smacks Meyhu in the jaw. Mike turns around to find Langston rising. Mike charges ahead, grabs Langston by the head and takes him down with a running swinging neck breaker!! Langston hits hard!! Mike grabs Langston in a Cravat and drags him into a corner. He yanks down on Langston’s neck, hard before releasing. The Legend holds his neck. Mike throws a thrust kick into Langston’s throat. He turns and faces Meyhu. He charges across the ring and leaps into the airlifting a knee into Meyhu’s face!!! He turns and charges back at Langston, lifting a knee into Langston’s face!!~

Smith: And this is why Mike Best is one of the most dangerous wrestlers in the industry! He’s outnumbered against two of OCW’s best and somehow…someway he’s emerging as the leading candidate to win this thing!

Hood: THIS is the kind of champion we need, Smith. Let’s go ahead and crown the man!

Smith: He’s got to earn it first, Hood. He hasn’t done that…not yet.

~Best charges back toward Langston! He jumps up and blasts Langston in the head with I Kneed a Hero, using the ropes to step up!!! Langston spins around and hits the mat!! Best wants to pin Langston, but he knows Meyhu could break it up. So, he turns and charges at Meyhu, looking to do the same. He steps up, throwing his Running Shining Wizard. Meyhu ducks!! He’s got Best in the Electric Chair. Best throws his fist back, his HOW Hall of Fame ring is jutting out. He brings it down at Meyhu’s head. Meyhu sees that HOW Hall of Fame ring and is like “NOPE” He reaches up, grabbing Best’s hand, blocking the punch!! He pulls Best over and drops him with a Falcon Arrow!!! He holds on for the pin!!! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Best survives once again!

Hood: I don’t think Meyhu liked seeing that HOW Hall of Fame ring coming at him.

Smith: Would you? This isn’t HOW…this is OCW! Meyhu’s the man around here…he’s proud of what he’s helped build!

~Meyhu pops back to his feet. He reaches down to pull Mike up…but Mike throws a short jab into Meyhu’s throat! Meyhu coughs and turns around, heading toward the ropes. Mike rolls over, getting to his feet. He backs up, measuring Meyhu for perhaps a knee or kick. He backs up into a wall…he turns around and sees Langston behind him!! Mike throws a punch with his HOF ring, but Langston blocks it and slams two hands into the crowd of Mike’s head with a double ax handle. He hoists Mike over his shoulder, backing up against the ropes. Mike wiggles free, landing on the apron. Langston turns around…Mike jumps up and kicks Langston in the face, staggering the big man. He hooks Langston for a suplex~

Smith: He’s going to suplex Langston from inside the ring to the outside!

Hood: Well this would end the legend’s chase.

Smith: Vincent would lose the Savage Title if he were to get pinned…he’d leave her beltless!

~Mike yells out, lifting the huge Langston up for a suplex. Mike’s strength is impressive. Langston punches Mike in the head! Mike drops Langston. Vincent lands on the apron. He boots Mike in the gut and hoists him up, over his shoulder. He gets him into position for a tombstone! The fans gasp. Langston turns and leaps off the apron dropping Best with a Tombstone into the dirt!!! The crowd yells! Mike’s body goes limp!! Langston stands over Mike, staring down at the HOW legend. He snarls and spits a giant wad of thick saliva onto Mike. He hears clapping from inside the ring. Meyhu, rubbing his throat, congratulates Langston on his effort~

Smith: A tombstone from the ring apron into the dirt! Mike Best is done. It’s a matter of who pins him at this point.

Hood: Meyhu is proud of Langston. I think, in many ways, that’s a bigger achievement than winning the OCW Title.

Smith: Uh, I don’t think so, Hood.

~Meyhu tells Langston to toss Mike into the ring. Langston’s eyes narrow. Meyhu leans over, offering to help~

Smith: Don’t trust him, Vincent! He’s going to betray you!

Hood: Throw Mike in there…listen to Meyhu. He’ll take you places!

~Langston jumps flat footed from the dirt onto the apron…he grabs Meyhu’s head and drops him with a stunner!! Meyhu’s throat slams against the top rope!!! He flips backward, over his head, landing front first onto the mat!! Langston’s ass hits the apron. He slides off, onto the dirt surface, limping around, walking off the pain. The fans pop!~

Smith: Langston just shut Meyhu up! Way to go, Vincent! He’s learned a thing or two since Death March!

Hood: Aidan Collins continues to influence OCW. King Infinity 4 Eva

~Langston grabs Mike and tosses him into the ring. He slides in, his lower half apparently fine. He jumps on top of Mike for the pin. Scruff slides in for the count…the fans are chanting along~

1!

2!

3!

NO!!

Smith: He got the shoulder up!

Hood: Mike Best LIVES

Smith: That’s okay…Scars of War. C’mon, Vincent!

~Langston returns to his feet with a purpose. He yanks Mike up and hooks him for Scars of War. Meyhu pops to his feet and charges forward, smacking Langston in the face with HUBRIS!!! Langston spins around, falling through the ropes, onto the apron. Meyhu grabs Mike…he hooks him for The Ego Trip!! Mike throws several sharp elbows into the side of Meyhu’s head. Meyhu releases. Mike spins around and throws a fist…his HOF ring fist at Meyhu’s face. Meyhu blocks the punch!!! He kicks Best in the knee!! Best stumbles back, against the ropes. Meyhu charges forward and clotheslines Best over the top rope to the outside!! Best hits hard. Langston remains on the apron~

Smith: Best continues to hang in this match…I don’t know how. I’m no fan of Mike Best, but his grit and determination cannot be dismissed.

Hood: I told ya! This man is money, Smith. You were the same way about Meyhu “Oh no, we can’t let these guys come in here and take over!” Look at what Meyhu did for OCW…Mike Best is going to carry us into the next golden era!

Smith: I hope not.

~Meyhu yanks Langston to his feet grumbling about “No More Mr. Nice Guy.” He smacks Langston with a fist. Langston spins around, giving his back to Meyhu. The Marvel hooks Langston around the waist…he stands on the second rope…he deadlifts Langston up, over his head and tosses him into the center of the ring with a Release German Suplex!!! Langston hits hard!! He’s folded up!! Meyhu jumps on his legs for the pin! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Langston survives!

Hood: He threw that fucker right on his head!

Smith: The longer this goes, the more I think The Marvel is going to prevail. He excels in these types of matches.

~Meyhu sits up, slapping at the mat. Langston rolls over. The Marvel pops to his feet. He measures Langston up. Vincent gets to his feet. Meyhu throws HUBRIS at Langston. Langston ducks…he grabs Meyhu from behind and lifts him up with a German Suplex!! He holds on, rolls through, pops back to his feet and hits another German!! He holds on, rolls through and hits a THIRD German! The crowd goes wild. But Langston RETAINS command…he rolls through AGAIN…his arms strain, he struggles, and he lifts Meyhu up and over with a FOURTH GERMAN!!! Surely he’s going to…NOPE. He rolls through yet again!! He gets to his feet and yells out as loud as he can…his body is soaked, his muscles are strained…he gets Meyhu over and drives him into the mat with a FIFTH consecutive German!! Langston bridges into a pin after this one. Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!!

Smith: The Marvel survives!

Hood: What a man! The stock of LIME just went up!

Smith: Langston has got to be exhausted after all that heavy lifting.

Hood: Hey, if he is…it’s his own damn fault.

~Langston mounts Meyhu. He’s breathing heavily but is digging down deep to stay the course. He starts to ground and pound The Marvel. He’s throwing rights and lefts down at Meyhu’s face. Meyhu does his best to cover up. Luckily for Meyhu Langston’s already winded, so these punches are clocking in at about 75%. But, they’re still landing…and Meyhu’s head is still bouncing around. It’s not looking good. Scruff asks Meyhu if he wants to give it up. Meyhu can’t respond~

Smith: Is Meyhu unable to defend himself?

Hood: Does that mean Scruff has to call for the bell?

Smith: He might!

~Scruff looks at Meyhu. The former CHAMP is getting the lime beat out of him. He doesn’t appear able to defend himself. Scruff stands and looks toward the bell…a blur shoots into view…IT’S MIKE BEST! He flies into view nailing Vincent in the head with I Kneed a Hero!!! Langston collapses to the side!! Meyhu rolls over, covering his battered face. Best pushes Langston over and makes the cover! The fans rise…some are booing, some are freaking out~

Smith: No! NO!

Hood: Oh hell yea!

1!

2!

3!!

NO!!

Smith: Foot on the rope! Foot on the rope! Langston got his foot on the rope!

Hood: You fucking serious? Why does that even count? That shouldn’t count! WEAK ASS!

~Best apparently agrees with Hood. He gets to his feet challenging Scruff and his ruling. Scruff really has nothing to say. Best turns around. He reaches for Langston…a giant hand grabs him from behind. Best is turned around…It’s Meyhu! Best throws a punch, Meyhu blocks it and drops Best with EGO TRIP!!! He flips Best over, making the cover!! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!

NOOO

Smith: Langston broke it up!

Hood: Well he just earned an eviction from the Meyhu fan club!

Smith: I don’t think he cares, to be honest.

~Langston grabs Meyhu. He yanks The Marvel to his feet. We see bruises and a few cuts on Meyhu’s face. He hooks Meyhu and drops him with SCARS OF WAR!! The crowd leaps to their feet!! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

NOOOOO

Smith: And now Mike Best with the breakup!

Hood: What the fuck?! Are finishers BLOCKED at Block Party?

Smith: These three men are refusing to lose. It’s unbelievable!

Hood: Whoever fucking wins this thing…assuming it doesn’t go on forever has got to be considered one of the greatest OCW Champions of all time. This match is a fucking war.

~All three men are on their backs, sucking wind. The crowd gives them a huge ovation. Langston sits up. Best rolls over. Meyhu reaches for the ropes. All three men battle against their body’s desire to shut down. They reach their feet and converge…they begin to throw punches. Three men punching each other as hard as they can at this stage of the match in the center of the ring! The fans go wild!! They chant “OCW!!” Meyhu, ever the opportunist, grabs Mike and Vincent’s heads and bangs them together!! They stagger backward…Meyhu runs forward and clotheslines them both over the top rope to the outside~

Smith: And the Marvel stands alone in the ring!

Hood: The exhaustion, Smith. These men are going to need a rubdown from Greg when this is over.

Smith: Or, better yet, a licensed massage therapist.

~Meyhu leans against the ropes, trying to catch as much air as he can. Langston and Best reach their feet on the outside. Best throws a punch…Langston blocks it and nails Best with the hardest punch he's thrown all night!!! Best’s body snaps backward, hitting the ground with a terrible thud. Langston drops to a knee. Meyhu drops down, reaching through the ropes, grabbing Langston by the hair~

Smith: Meyhu trying to get Langston back into the ring.

Hood: This is Vincent’s punishment. If he’d have listened to Meyhu he could have walked out of here with his Savage Championship. But nooooo

~Langston reaches under the ring. Meyhu pulls Vincent up. Langston’s back is to Meyhu. He thrust his arms back and hits Meyhu in the head with his chain!!! Meyhu stands upright and stumbles backward. His head is busted open. He drops to one knee. Langston casts his chain aside and turns to enter the ring~

Smith: The chain! He just blasted Meyhu with the chain!

Hood: Fuck you, Langston! FUCK YOU

~Langston steps onto the apron. Mike Best pops up! He leaps into the air, grabs Langston from behind, pulls him off the apron to the dirt ground with a BACKSTABBER!!! Langston writhes around!! Best doesn’t remain down long. He’s in obvious pain but he reaches for the apron, pulling himself up. He climbs onto the apron and gets to his feet. He jumps up. Meyhu stands up…but it’s clear Meyhu is concussed from the chain shot. Mike springboards off the top rope and hits Meyhu in the face with I KNEED A HERO!!! Blood fills the air! Meyhu remains on his feet!! Best looks up, shocked. But he crawls over and rolls Meyhu up, bringing the OCW legend down! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!!!

~The fans are irate!! They booo!!! The bell rings! All sorts of items are thrown down into the arena pit~

Smith: No!! Are you kidding me? This can’t be!!

Hood: HE FUCKING DID IT!

Smith: A 3-1 disadvantage…and this…that…vile man wins? He’s our champion? Surely there’s a misunderstanding…surely…

Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND NEW OCW CHAMPION…MIKE BEST!!!!!

Smith: Unbelievable…this man just walks in here and takes the top prize.

Hood: Oh hell yea! Wild times are ahead, Smith!

Smith: You know Paras is going to have something to say about this. Langston as well…and what about Meyhu? He’s still owed a one on one shot from his win inside the Chamber!

Hood: Hey! Nobody said being OCW Champion would be easy…but the fact of the matter is Mike Best has scaled the OCW mountain in damn near record time. He’s up there with legends like Lurrr, Cyanide, Scott Syren, and Matt Meyhu in terms of rate of ascension. This man is a great one!

Smith: This just feels…wrong. I…I don’t know. All I know is we have MARIO to thank for all of this.

Hood: Glad he’s getting the recognition he deserves.

~Meyhu tries to sit up but the blood pouring from his wound is keeping him down. Langston sits up against the ring steps, favoring his back. He punches at the ring apron, damn near putting his fist through the hardest part of the ring. Mike Best receives his OCW Title and starts to celebrate. The crowd is hostile. There are no eMpire members around…so he decides to exit the arena and celebrate in more favorable conditions~

Smith: Mike Best is the new OCW Champion. A name I never thought I’d see show up around her let alone capture our top prize.

Hood: Hey, at least Langston gets to keep his Savage Title.

Smith: Something tells me frustration is brooding within Langston. He’s not going to be happy with tonight’s outcome.

Hood: What about Meyhu?

Smith: The Marvel’s got some beef with Langston. He’s got some beef with management. He’s still in line for a one on one shot…so he’s far from out of the picture.

Hood: And, what about Bob?

Smith: Huh?

Hood: Nevermind, bad joke.

Smith: Awful joke. Fans…we’re going to cut away. Mike Best is our OCW Champion…let that sink in for a moment as we reset and get ready for tonight’s main event.

~In the production area OCW newcomer Chastity Temple is all smiles as she introduces herself to various crew members. After the disaster that was her promotional video show on Massacre last week, she decided to really turn on the charm at her first event. So far it seems to be going well, as long as she ignores the guys glancing down at her schoolgirl skirt. Chastity turns around after waving sweetly at some grunt or other and almost collides with the well-oiled sex machine that is John E Depth.~

Chastity: Sorry! I didn't see you there!

Depth: It's fine, sugar. In fact, you're just the gal I was looking for.

Chastity: Really? Why?

Depth: Well I saw that video of yours and I gotta say... it was terrible.

Chastity: Oh my gosh! I know, right?

Depth: Don't get me wrong, you clearly have a ton of potential. But that tease stuff ain't gonna cut it if you really wanna be a star.

Chastity: I don't understand.

Depth: Hey, that's what I'm here for. Nobody knows what those horndogs wanna see more than good ol' John E. Depth. If you stick to me, kid... I mean,stick with me I can make a video that'll really get 'em excited.

Chastity: Really? You can help me? What would I have to do?

Depth: Well...

~John E. Depth leans over and whispers into Chastity's ear. Over the next several seconds her expression changes from excited to confused to horrified. She shoves depth away and delivers a slap that almost knocks his mustache off!~

Depth: Whoah! Whoah! Whoah! Don't get those skimpy little panties of yours in a twist, babe. We can negotiate. It doesn't have to be a Rottweiler, you can pick out whatever breed you want.

Chastity: You... you... you... DIRTY BIRD! The only thing I want is your heiny in the ring!

Depth: Did you really say "heiny?" Holy balls, you really are a virgin!

Chastity: Yes! And you violated my pure mind with your nasty words! And the only thing that can cleanse my thoughts is beating you up! So get out there... right now!

~John E. Depth watches as Chastity storms off, then gives a shrug.~

Depth: Not the kind of action I was going for with her but I'll take what I can get.

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: What's going on?

Hood: Impromptu match? Feels like an impromptu match...

Impromptu Match in the Name of Virtue
Chastity Temple (0-0) vs. John E Depth (1-3)

~The poppy beats of "Oops!... I Did It Again" fill the air at Fort OCW but Chastity Temple is all business as she heads toward the ring. She slides under the bottom rope and climbs up to the second turnbuckle where she makes the sign of the cross before glaring out at where she expects her opponent to come out from.~

Smith: Looks like we have an impromptu debut match here at Block Party as Chastity Temple has challenged John E. Depth!

Hood: Speaking of depth, I think that little lady is out of hers. John E. has a win and she has zero.

Smith: C'mon. It's her debut, of course she doesn't have any wins. But management thinks she has a lot of potential.

Hood: Please, all we really know is she's a virgin who can't keep her skirt down.Chastity's more fan service than DOA's bouncing breast mode.

~"The Bad Touch" replaces Brittany and Chastity keep glaring. She doesn't notice that John E. Depth has taken advantage of the unusual layout to come out in a different direction. He sneaks underneath with a handheld video camera and grins lecherously as he starts filming up her skirt.~

Smith: That's wildly inappropriate!

Hood: And yet totally on brand for John E. Depth!

Smith: I can't see OCW management condoning this.

Hood: Hell, I see Welsh ordering a copy of that on DVD and digital, so he can watch in the bathroom on his phone, if you know what I mean...

Smith: I do.

Hood: So Welsh can watch while he's jackin' it!

Smith: I said I do!

Hood: Just wanted to be sure...

~The crowd is wolf-whistling and cat-calling as Depth keep filming up Chastity's skirt. The noise makes her look around and her eyes grow large when she realizes what he's doing. Depth start backing off with faux-sheepishness as the Technical Virgin berates him. Then she climbs up to the top rope and leaps off to nail Depth with a plancha! Alas, Depth is able to catch the petite pinnacle of purity and drops her across his knee with a gutbuster!~

Smith: Not a great start for Chastity Temple.

Hood: She's a fresh daisy. Nice to look at but they always end up getting stomped.

~Realizing the position he has Chastity in, Depth smirks as he lifts up her skirt to reveal the black thong that the Massacre viewers saw last week. With his camera in one hand, Depth begins spanking Chastity's pale cheeks with the other! The OCW fans roar with approval.~

Hood: Seriously, this chick needs to go back to selling cookies or whatever. It makes me uncomfortable seeing a kid treated like this.

Smith: Chastity's nineteen, you don't need to act like she's a child.

Hood: Nineteen? Then I'm sooooo comfortable with this!

~Chastity is screaming and kicking her legs, more out of humiliation than actual pain. Depth settles her down by lifting her up and delivering another gutbuster. He tosses Chastity into the ring, then sets his camera down before climbing onto the apron. Depth is stepping through the ropes when Chastity runs over and kicks the middle one into his groin!~

Hood! Noooo! That's his moneymaker!

~John E. Depth his hunched over in pain. Chastity goes up to him and grabs a front facelock. She then spins and drop down into a cutter that leaves Depth facedown on the canvas!~

Smith: She calls that the Snap Judgement!

~Seeing her opponent prone on the mat, Chastity gets him in a leglock and then bridges back to grab a hold on Depth's head. She begins jerking his neck back, her pelvis thrusting in the air with every pull!~

Smith: And she call that the Chastity Belt!

Hood: I call it more than that. You think Miss #PureVajayjay realizes how her hips look here?

Smith: I really don't know.

Hood: Going up and down and up and down and up....

Smith: We get it! This is a legit submission move that comes from Japan!

Hood: Oh, so I guess the dirt sheets will be giving this match seven stars.

~Indeed, the Chastity Belt is extremely painful and it's not long before John E. Depth is tapping out! The ref calls fo the bell, signally that Chastity Temple has won her first match in OCW! She releases her opponent but instead of celebrating she climbs to the top rope. She waits for Depth to slowly get to his feet then nails him with a somersault seated senton that sends him crashing down again!~

Hood: Chastity hit a man with her crotch!

Smith: That was the Slice of Heaven!

Hood: I don't care if it has a name, it's still a flying crotch attack. Hell, this whole fiasco seems less like a match and more like a shameless scheme to get Chastity over.

Smith: Shhhhh.... kayfabe.

~As her music starts playing again, Chastity hops out of the ring and is all smiles as she skips away. Meanwhile Depth seems shocked as he rolls out and staggers toward Belvedere and his mic.~

Depth: You guys... I just saw the most amazing, the most beautiful thing in my entire life. It was so pure. I feel blessed to have been in its presence. I have to tell you I'm a changed man now.

Smith: Oooookay. Big ups to Chasity Temple on her victorious debut and to John E. Depth for his... epiphany, I guess!

Hood: I'm kinda worried this might drive him deeper into the fetish market, to be honest.

Smith: I'd rather not talk about whatever 'genre' he specializes in.

Hood: Hey, your loss.

Smith: Well fans...Chastity Temple is one to watch moving forward...she's certainly got that 'OCW' quality to her.

Hood: I see big things for Chastity...BIG THINGS

Smith: Calm down, Hood. Maybe someone can convince her to wear shorts under that skirt...or pants, I don't know.

Hood: Dude, that would ruin it.

Smith: Fine, whatever...it's been a long night. Let's cut to the back before we head to our main event!

~We cut back to the medical tent. Zybala is gone. Instead, we see Lurrr getting his hand worked on. His match is just moments away. A man in a purple hoodie steps into the tent. The Knife Man looks up, his two soulless, black as night eyes looking in the hooded person’s direction~

The Knife Man: Oh, hello friend. I need some extra supplies so I can finish applying this cast. Do you mind watching over my inventory while I’m gone?

~The hooded man nods in affirmative fashion. The Knife Man moves to leave…he stops~

The Knife Man: I appreciate your kind hearted nature and extremely convenient timing. I’ll be right back!

~A jovial Knife Man hops out of his tent…he GASHES one of the flaps with his reckless, HUGE knife. The hooded man throws back his hood revealing GREG. Lurrr eyes Greg with disdain~

Lurrr: The fuck do you want?

~Lurrr winces, pressing around his swollen, black and blue hand~

Greg: Marcus sent me here. I have him on FaceTime. We’d better hurry before The Knife Man gets back.

~Lurrr seems put out by the entire situation. He’s got a huge match coming up and a broken hand to deal with. He motions for Greg to hold the phone at eye level. Welsh’s face is in view~

Lurrr: Yea?

Marcus Welsh: Sorry for the nature of this conversation…all cloak and dagger like, but it couldn’t be helped. Zybala evicted me from the event. Listen, I’m taking over tomorrow, as you well know. I understand you had a special relationship with OCW’s previous owner, Dean. I also understand you and I know very little about one another. But, listen to me…if you do what I say then I’ll make sure the name Lurrr holds as much power under my reign as it did Dean’s.

Lurrr: Sorry, I’m Catholic.

Marcus Welsh: I’m not trying to convert you! This is serious…James Raven cannot win Block Party. He’s an outsider. He refuses to sign a contract with OCW. If he wins tonight then he’s one step away from winning the OCW Title. So I need you to prevent that from happening.

Lurrr: Yea, okay, no big deal. I’ll kick his ass like I’ve done to a thousand other wrestlers.

Marcus Welsh: And while I have the utmost faith in your abilities I’d hate to leave anything to chance. So here’s some added insurance.

~Greg extends his hand, furtively transferring a pair of brass knuckles. Lurrr looks them over~

Marcus Welsh: Put those on your bad hand. The Knife Man will place the cast right over them. You can then take a disadvantage and make it an advantage. Oh, and also, the referees…you cannot trust them.

Lurrr: I’ve known Scruff for years.

Marcus Welsh: He’s a loyal man, for sure. That’s the problem. He’ll be loyal to me tomorrow but for tonight, he’s loyal to Zybala. The only ref you can trust…truly trust to do what you say is Puff. The man is spineless.

~Lurrr chews on the agenda a bit~

Lurrr: Alright, I get ya.

Marcus Welsh: Raven cannot win. He MUST not win. You understand?

Lurrr: Yea, I fucking get it. Geez you’re a pain in the ass. I’ll go out there and win Block Party. You’ve got nothing to worry about.

The Knife Man: If you wanna be my lover you gotta get with my friends…helloooo guys, I’m back!

~The Knife Man, singing the lyrics to ‘Wannabe’ by The Spice Girls, re-enters. Greg throws his hoodie up and places his phone back into his pocket. He darts out of the tent. The Knife Man, unaware of anything, turns around, pointing his back to Lurrr. Lurrr looks at the brass knuckles and slips them over his hand. The Knife Man turns around with the cast~

The Knife Man: Okily Dokily…let me slip this on and secure it. This is only temporary…it could be ripped off during the match but, sorry to say, it’s the best I can do on such short notice.

Lurrr: It’ll be fine.

The Knife Man: Kewl!

~The Knife Man slips the cast on. It has a bit of trouble sliding over the knux…which The Knife Man can’t see because Lurrr has his arm upside down and his fist closed…but the SAVAGE power within the Knife Man’s murderous grasp manages to get the cast on. He then lifts his knife high in the air and brings it crashing down, safely working the cast into position, getting it secure. Lurrr looks on at all of this and says~

Lurrr: Different management, same weird ass shit.

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: This doesn’t bode well for James Raven.

Hood: Shut your mouth! It’s Main Event time and nobody is stopping what’s about to happen from happening!

Smith: I’m afraid I’m powerless. And I’m told Zybala is out of pocket, unable to view what’s just taken place. We can’t stall any longer, fans. It’s time for Block Party’s main event…the culmination of a 32 person tournament that took place over a six week span. We’re down to 2. One person will walk away with a shot at the new OCW Champion, Mike Best. Let’s head down to ringside!

Main Event
Block Party Final
(2) Lurrr (5-1) vs. (6) James Raven (4-0)

~It’s been a long day. The sun is beginning to set…that crazy chill vibe that exists between sunset and evening is upon us. Floodlights have been brought into the arena, just in case. We’re running long, folks. The fans are still murmuring over new OCW Champion, Mike Best. It’s been a wild and turbulent night…could another ‘outsider’ step in and shake things up or will OCW legend Lurrr stand up and defend the OCW banner. Belvedere stands in the center of the ring, looking dapper as always. He clears his throat to a HUGE ovation~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This match is the final of the Block Party Tournament and it is scheduled for one fall! The winner of this match will receive an OCW Championship match at Not Safe For Work. Introducing first…

~"Bleed it Out" by Linkin Park blasts throughout Fort OCW. The broken wooden doors no longer creak. James Raven, outsider and wrestling legend emerges. His stride is a bit tender. The war against Biff took its toll. His back is not in the greatest of shape. But the man’s a warrior...he’ll fight through it. He reaches the ringside area and, instead of sliding in or doing anything super athletic, he walks up the steps and enters in a very mild, safe manner~

Belvedere: Introducing first, from Toronto, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 222lbs…James Raven!!!!

Smith: Mike Best is the new OCW Champion. Is he going to defend against Lurrr or James Raven?

Hood: This is a scary night, Smith. I mean, I’m a big Best fan…but I didn’t really think he’d fucking win the thing. A guy who was elsewhere six weeks ago is our champion and now…now his first challenger could be some fucker who isn’t even signed here!

Smith: We have opened ourselves up to the outside, Hood. This is what happens when you do that.

GUESS WHO’S BACK

Smith: The original OCW icon is back in a spot even he didn’t think he’d see again.

Hood: He’s defeated Jason Kortare, Ed Houston, The Lost Stranger, Andrea Hernandez and now…now he’s got James Raven to run through in order to get a shot at a fourth OCW Title reign.

Smith: Mike Best defending against Lurrr would be a dream match.

I used to be broke, confused..no joke
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now there's 10 million motherfuckers on my dick

~Lurrr appears between the broken doors. His right hand appears bigger than usual. He steps into visibility, and we notice that it’s heavily taped…it appears to have a temporary cast around it. Lurrr looks at it and shakes his head, saying “fucking figures.” He heads toward the ring…it’s a mixed reaction. He’s a fucking jerk but do these fans really want to see Raven win the tournament? Some guy who ISN’T OCW? Lurrr reaches the ring and walks around, keeping a peripheral view on Raven, who leans in a corner, stretching out his back~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…from Houston, Texas…he is the original OCW Icon…a three-time OCW Champion and the first person ever inducted into the OCW Hall of Fame…ladies and gentlemen…LURRR!!!!

Smith: Lurrr back in the spotlight, where he thrives!

Hood: James Raven, in many ways, is like a young Lurrr. Brash, arrogant…only difference is he cares way more about what the fans think than Lurrr ever did.

Smith: This is true.

~Lurrr approaches the ring from the outside. Belvedere offers to take the HOF title but Lurrr tells him to fuck off. Lurrr motions for Scruff to come forward…he motions that he’s got an issue with his hand. Raven keeps watch over the proceedings. Scruff heads Lurrr’s way. Lurrr starts in with, “Hey, listen – “ but he quickly rips his HOF title away from his waist and SLAMS it into Scruff’s head!!! Scruff falls out of the ring, landing on the outside roughly!! Lurrr slides into the ring. Raven jumps to attention, realizing shit is getting real really quick. He goes after Lurrr. Lurrr throws the HOF title at Raven. Raven catches it, out of instinct. Lurrr lunges forward, punching Raven with his bad hand!!! Raven is ROCKED!! He falls back into a corner, eyes rolling around. Lurrr hits him again!! Raven falls to the mat and rolls out of the ring, hitting the ground. The fans BOOOO heavily. Lurrr kicks the HOF title out of the ring and steps through the ropes, standing over Raven~

Smith: What’s he doing?!

Hood: Insurance, Smith! Lurrr’s out there to make sure he wins, no matter what.

Smith: He should be DQ’d right now!

Hood: Bell never rang…he smacked Scruff around good enough to ensure that didn’t happen.

Smith: Fine…send Puff or Gruff out here! Let’s go!

~As if on cue we cut to a shot outside the Fort…people are screaming. Rick Mathis is seen for the first time this evening…the giant seven-footer who guards Lurrr has Gruff beat down. He’s yelling at Puff. Puff nods, scared to death~

Smith: What the heck?

Hood: Mathis is threatening the refs! He’s Lurrr’s insurance policy, don’t you get it?

~Puff is overheard saying “Yessir, Mr. Mathis. Yessir.” Mathis motions for Puff to head toward the Fort. He throws another kick at Gruff for good measure. Puff’s fat body runs toward the Fort as fast as it can. Lurrr, feeling pretty confident, grabs Raven and throws him back into the ring. Lurrr marches up the steps, looking at his ‘bad’ hand. He enters into the ring and sees Puff finally hustling through the opened doors. He throws his arms in the air at Puff as if to say “Finally!” Puff sees a bloodied Scruff and goes “Geezus!” His hands shake as he reaches for the ropes to get into the ring. Lurrr yells “HURRY UP!”~

Smith: This is a joke! He’s screwing up this entire tournament!

Hood: Dude’s doing what he has to do to win…CLASSIC OCW, BABY

Smith: I was with you in not wanting an outsider to win…but like this? This is horrible!

~Puff finally gets into the ring. Lurrr places his foot on Raven and holds his arms in the air. Puff makes the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Raven kicked out!

Hood: Stay down, birdman! Lurrr’s going to seriously fuck you up if you don’t.

~Lurrr is IRATE. He goes after Puff. “That was a slow count!” he yells. “You’re trying to fuck me!” he continues to scream. Puff can barely respond…the poor, chubby man is in over his head. Lurrr reaches back and BLASTS Puff in the face with his ‘bad’ hand. Puff falls to the mat. Lurrr kicks him out of the ring and looks at Raven saying “You son of a bitch.” Raven’s trying to get to his feet…Lurrr punches him in the back with his ‘bad’ hand. Raven yells out in pain, rolling around, reaching for his back~

Smith: And now we need a ref…way to go, Lurrr. You just injured ALL our referees.

Hood: I don’t want to…ya know, state the obvious…but what the fuck is with his bad hand?

Smith: It doesn’t seem that ‘bad’ does it?

Hood: Did he…maybe put a little something in that cast?

~We cut back outside the Fort. Zybala is running around as the sun is nearly set. He’s looking at Gruff…he sees Scruff being stretchered out. He sees another stretcher heading in for Puff~

Zybala: We have no refs…we need a ref…

~Zybala is a ball of nerves, looking around, anxiously. He appears worn from his battle with Maurako earlier. He spots a familiar man standing in line to get a beer. It’s a big, muscular, bald man…Zybala’s eyes widen~

Zybala: Yes.

~Zybala reaches out, instinctively, and rips the ref shirt off of Puff’s body as he’s being stretchered out. He heads over to this bald man. We cut back to inside Fort OCW where Lurrr is delivering crushing blows with his ‘bad’ hand into Raven’s abdomen. Mathis has made his way to ringside and is cheering Lurrr on. Lurrr drags Raven around the ring cursing at him. “Fucking piece of shit think you can just come in here and earn a title shot!” He drills Raven in the neck with his ‘bad’ hand. Raven’s body seizes up as he falls to his knees. “Get the fuck outta my fed!” Lurrr yells, reaching up for what could be a final blow. That is, until…~

Smith: Huh?

Hood: Oh shit…

~"Vagabond" by the Greenskeepers hits!!! Fort OCW explodes!!! Lurrr turns with a pissed off expression. The bald silhouette of MACK O’CONNOR saunters between the doors, into the arena. He’s got a full cup of beer in his hand and a ref shirt over his shoulder. Lurrr throws Raven down and yells at Mathis. “TAKE CARE OF HIM!” Mathis heads Mack’s way. Mack throws what remains of his beer in Rick’s face!! Rick is stunned…Mack hoists Rick up and drops him with CLAYMORE into the dirt!!! Mathis is out! Mack pops back to his feet…the fans are jumping up and down chanting “MACK! MACK! MACK!” Mack rips off his plain, black shirt and slips the ref shirt over his torso. Lurrr, standing at the ropes, looking down at Mack, shakes his head in anger. “NO!” he yells~

Smith: Yes! Zybala…in perhaps his final act as GM has named Mack O’Connor the special ref for this match!

Hood: Mack’s an enigma, Smith. He’s here so he could leave the state and enjoy some drinking. What interest does he have in this match? Is he leaning Lurrr? Or does he want to see total chaos break out with a Raven win?

Smith: As long as he calls it down the middle, I couldn’t care less.

~Mack storms up the steps and enters in through the ring. He pulls a flask out from his pocket. Lurrr walks up, getting in his face. The two Hall of Famers have a staredown. Mack pulls the flask up and takes a sip, keeping his eyes locked with Lurrr’s. Lurrr sticks his chin out, displaying the arrogance he exuded 24/7 in his youth. Mack says “Ya might wanna watch your back.” Lurrr responds, “Is that a fucking threat.” Mack smiles. Lurrr rears back with his ‘bad’ hand…but he’s spun around and dropped with a cutter!!! The crowd goes wild! Raven was unable to fully execute Flight of the Raven. But he got enough to take Lurrr down for a moment. Mack puts the flask back in his pocket and patrols the ring, acting like a ref. Lurrr is face down. Raven is on his back, grimacing…his entire body hurts~

Smith: He dropped him! But it wasn’t what he wanted…he’s in too much pain to execute the move fully.

Hood: Yea but it was enough to begin the climb back to relevance.

Smith: Indeed…Mack tried to warn Lurrr.

Hood: Bullshit, Mack was fucking with him.

~Lurrr pushes up, trying to return to his feet. Raven is slow to his feet. Lurrr beats him to the spot. He knees Raven in the ribs. Raven drops to his knees, coughing. Lurrr delivers an elbow into the back of Raven’s neck. Raven flips over, onto his back. Lurrr holds his ‘bad’ hand up and falls to the mat, dropping his fist toward Raven’s face. Raven rolls out of the way! He rolls out of the ring, under the bottom rope. Lurrr’s fist slams into the mat…but he shows no pain. He rolls out of the ring after Raven~

Smith: There’s something up with that hand.

Hood: Dude just has amazing recuperative abilities.

Smith: Yea, I don’t think so.

Hood: Always doubting Lurrr. Next thing I know you’re going to tell me that third r is superfluous.

~Mack leans against the ropes, near a corner, watching the action from inside the ring. He removes his flask, taking another sip. Lurrr stalks Raven. Raven reaches a set of steps, nearest the corner where Mack is chilling. He leans over, placing both hands atop the steps still recovering from all the damage Lurrr’s done to him at the outset of this contest. Lurrr delivers a double ax handler to Raven’s back! Raven arches his back and grimaces…these blows hurt way more than they should. Lurrr spins him around. Raven is leaning against the ring post. Lurrr delivers a straight right hand…Raven ducks!! Lurrr’s fist SLAMS into the ring post…but he doesn’t show any pain. It makes a strange noise. Raven looks up and sees there’s more damage on the ring post than Lurrr’s hand. His eyes widen. Lurrr shrugs as if to say, “Do something about it, bitch.”~

Smith: I knew it! He’s loaded that cast!

Hood: Smart

Smith: And illegal.

Hood: You see anybody calling for the fucking bell? The rules have been loosened for this tournament…Lurrr knows that, and he’s playing within them.

~Raven crawls away, creating some distance so he can get to his feet. Lurrr goes after him. Raven turns around…Lurrr throws a lariat with his ‘bad’ hand. Raven jumps up, places his knees into Lurrr’s arm and falls back with a double knee arm breaker!!! Lurrr yells out, falling to the ground, holding his right arm in pain. Mack looks down, raising his eyebrows and taking a sip. He says, “Nice.” The fans go wild~

Smith: Yes! Raven is climbing back into this!

Hood: C’mon, Lurrr…punch him in the dick with that hand!

Smith: That would be terrible!

Hood: Only for Raven.

~Lurrr works his right arm back and forth, trying to get some feeling back into the joint. Raven crawls back against another set of ring steps. People begin to wonder why Mack isn’t counting…it appears Mack isn’t a fan of count outs. A pussy way to win. Lurrr gets to his feet and goes after Raven. Raven takes him down with a drop toe hold!! Lurrr slams face first into the top of the steps. Raven grabs hold of Lurrr’s right arm~

Smith: I think he’s going to get to the bottom of this!

Hood: What a dick! He’s going after an injured man’s hand!

Smith: Whatever

~Raven slams Lurrr’s cast into the steps, repeatedly. He’s slamming it against the edge of the metal. He’s trying to get a seam he can tear apart. Lurrr tries to fight back. Raven jams a thumb into Lurrr’s eye! Mack says, “Sucks.” But he doesn’t do anything. Raven begins to saw the bottom of Lurrr’s cast against the edge of the steps…finally, a seam. He grabs it with both hands and begins to rip! It starts to tear…he rips and rips and rips…he finally rips it free!!! We see a bandaged, black and blue, broken hand covered in bandaging and…brass knuckles!! Raven works to remove the brass knuckles. Lurrr starts to fight back~

Smith: His hand is badly injured…but those brass knuckles and that cast have protected it…until now!

Hood: Oh man he’s going to fuck Lurrr’s hand up! This is a travesty! He’s ruining Lurrr’s moment!

Smith: He’s leveling the playing field, Hood! Mathis, brass knuckles…I think Lurrr’s had enough advantages for one match.

~Lurrr is unable to close his fist completely due to the injured nature of his hand. Raven manages to wiggle and yank the brass knuckles completely off. Lurrr rolls away, admitting temporary defeat…he protects his hand. Raven looks at the brass knux and tosses them into the crowd! They hit some guy wearing a Pokemon t-shirt out. Raven shrugs and goes back after Lurrr. Lurrr crawls away, toward the wooden wall which surrounds the arena. Mack continues to sip and watch~

Smith: He ripped them off and threw them away! Now that’s a championship type attitude!

Hood: More like the infantile stages of idiocy!

~Lurrr reaches the wall and feels up the wall with his left hand, reaching his feet. Raven snares Lurrr from behind…the momentum has completely shifted. Raven spins around looking to German Lurrr into the wooden wall! Lurrr throws a mule kick which turns into a low blow!! Raven doubles over…Lurrr breaks free and punches Raven with his exposed right hand! A force of habit. Lurrr yells out, grabbing his hand and falling to the ground. To his credit, however, the punch was enough to send Raven leaning back, against the wooden wall, a bit loopy~

Smith: Lurrr had grown accustomed to that right hand being impervious to pain. No longer!

Hood: We need a medic out here! We need to make sure Lurrr’s okay!

Smith: I’m sure he’ll be fine.

Hood: And where is Mathis?!

Smith: Security dragged Rick Mathis out of here right after Mack laid him out.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING!

~Raven regains his wits. He moves forward. Lurrr’s on his knees, holding his hand…it’s got to be crippled with pain. Raven throws a hard kick into Lurrr’s back. He spins around and throws a back kick into Lurrr’s chest! Lurrr’s body seizes up. Raven backs away and sprints forward, nailing Lurrr with a running knee! The OCW legend falls backward, into the dirt. Raven pops back to his feet…he pauses and listens as the fans chant his name. “RAVEN! RAVEN!”~

Smith: These fans are clearly behind James Raven!

Smith: I’d be careful if I were you…these fans pay your salary.

Hood: Bull shit…I get paid by Mr. Margaritaville!

~Raven pulls Lurrr back to his feet, eyeing the ring and a potential victory. Lurrr fights him off! Lurrr starts to throw a right hand but pauses. Raven chops Lurrr across the chest!!! Lurrr staggers away…he stumbles into the wooden wall and leans against it, continuing to walk. Raven gives chase. He turns Lurrr around and throws another chop!! It slices against Lurrr’s skin!!! Lurrr stumbles backward…the wooden wall disappears into the entryway. The two giant wooden doors remain broken and therefore open. Lurrr walks backward, towards the doors. Raven charges ahead, throwing a lariat…Lurrr ducks!! Raven turns around, and Lurrr dives forward with a head butt into Raven’s chest!! Raven falters back. Lurrr leaps into the air and hits Raven with a dropkick!! James tumbles backward, between the two doors. Lurrr hits the ground hard but fights back to his feet. Mack, still in the ring, watches on with growing frustration~

Smith: They are heading outside of the fort…out into the common area!

Hood: Lurrr amongst the common folk? This could be disastrous!

Smith: There are, apparently, no rules in this one, folks. You don’t like it? Blame Mack O’Connor.

Hood: Way to kick a man while he’s down, Smith.

~Lurrr stalks Raven. Raven crabwalks away, before reaching his feet. They’ve officially ventured beyond the entrance. Lurrr throws a left hand. Raven blocks it. Raven turns Lurrr around and secures him in the clench. He throws some knee strikes up at Lurrr’s head. Lurrr does his best to avoid and block. Lurrr uses some of that old man strength to lift Raven up and hit an inverted Atomic Drop!!! Raven leans into Lurrr…Lurrr hooks him and tosses him over with a Snap Suplex! Raven hits the outside ground hard. Lurrr sits up and takes in his surroundings…he sees concession stands, merch stands, off in the distance are a few cheap ass carnival rides. Fans are standing around, but they are quickly being blocked off by security members. Mack, inside the ring, shakes his head and takes a sip of his flask before exiting and heading toward the doors to keep up with the action~

Smith: And Mack moves!

Hood: It’s pretty rude to make a man move while he’s drinking.

Smith: He’s got a job to do, Hood.

Hood: I’m just saying!

~Lurrr returns to his feet and pulls Raven up. He’s eyeing the nearest concession stand. Fans in line scatter…including one guy who had reached the front of the line. He looks super pissed that all his wait time had been wasted. Lurrr slams Raven head first into the concession stand counter! It’s made of wood. Raven’s head hits hard. Lurrr takes his right elbow and jams it into the back of Raven’s neck, grinding it in. Raven yells out…he throws a side kick into Lurrr’s knee! Lurrr stumbles…Raven is able to break free~

Smith: There’s so much danger out there…Mack should really try and wrangle those two back into the arena.

Hood: Wrangle? I think you’ve spent a little too much time out here, partner.

Smith: Thankfully this one’s almost over.

~Raven measures Lurrr up. He throws a superkick! Lurrr, the master of the superkick, dodges! He hoists Raven up onto his shoulders and tosses him with an F-5 over the concession counter back into the worker area. The workers have already fled, so Raven doesn’t take any of them out. He does, however, land atop that sticky, thick, plastic mat which reeks of stale alcohol and popcorn. Mack appears! He steps over Raven and pours himself a beer~

Smith: Really, Mack? A beer? Right now?

Hood: Hey, he’s doing Zybala a favor. Let the man indulge.

Smith: This is for a shot at the OCW Championship!

Hood: Yes, I know…relax, man, relax!

~Lurrr hops atop the concession counter. Mack takes a few steps back, drinking the beer. He frowns…it’s a light beer. But, it’s beer. So he isn’t going to exactly pour it out. Lurrr looks down at Raven, then at Mack. He asks Mack, “Do pins count out here?” Mack shrugs and says, “Sure.” Lurrr nods. He jumps off the counter and comes straight down with an elbow into Raven’s chest! There isn’t much room, but he made it work! Lurrr remains on top of Raven, making the cover. Mack drops down and counts with one hand while holding a cup half full of beer with the other~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Raven kicked out!

Hood: So this is Falls Count Anywhere now?

Smith: We’re playing by Mack’s rules, and I think he’s making them up as he goes along.

~Lurrr stands up and stomp on Raven. He looks at Mack and motions for O’Connor to hand over the beer. Mack tells Lurrr to get his own. Lurrr curses and reaches for a cup. Raven pops up and swivels his legs around, taking Lurrr’s feet out from under him!! Lurrr stumbles forward, head first into the beer taps! Beer gets all over his head and face. Raven rises and grabs Lurrr by the back of the head…he slams him face first into the metal grating that resides under the tap to catch superfluous suds. Beer flies everywhere upon impact!!! Lurrr stumbles backward into the popcorn machine. Raven trips the handle belonging to the BUD LIGHT tap away. He turns around and jams it into Lurrr’s throat!! Lurrr chokes and gags, trying to pry the tap out of his windpipe~

Smith: Raven giving Lurrr a bit of his own medicine! How’s that Bud Light taste now, Lurrr? Huh?

Hood: Whoa, calm down man…your James Raven inspired erection is showing.

Smith: How dare you insinuate such perversion!

~Lurrr spits right in Raven’s face! Raven is distracted. Lurrr chops down, getting the Bud Light tap out of his throat. He has no time to gasp for air. He grabs Raven by the hair and tries to throw him head first into the glass popcorn machine…Raven puts his foot up, bracing it against the wooden cabinets underneath the machine for support. He punches Lurrr in the ribcage! He tries to throw LURRR into the popcorn machine…but, like Raven, Lurrr blocks the attempt! Lurrr lifts Raven up and drops him with a side suplex onto the concession counter!! Raven hits hard and remains atop the counter. Lurrr turns around and climbs up on the counter. The fans all standing around gasp with anticipation. They are chanting for Raven…but the cheers don’t appear to be helping. Mack takes a few steps back, he finishes his beer and tosses the cup away. He reaches for his flask~

Smith: Mack thinks this move is more suitable for whiskey than beer.

Hood: Taking it up a notch!

~Lurrr pulls Raven up, both men are standing atop the concession stand counter. Lurrr kicks the cash register aside…it falls to the ground in front of the stand. He tries to throw Raven head first into the popcorn machine. Raven reaches out and grabs Lurrr’s hand, squeezing!! Lurrr yells out in pain and throws Raven backward. Raven lands on his feet on the ‘safe’ side of the stand, stumbling back. Lurrr reaches for his hand, trying to rehab the pain. Raven charges forward…he steps up onto the cash register for a boost and leaps into the air diving through Lurrr with DIVEBOMB!!! Both men go flying through the air and right into the glass windows of the popcorn machine!!! The impact shatters all the glass and sends the entire machine tipping over, into a bunch of kegs behind it!!! The crowd goes wild! “HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!!” Mack hustles around to get a better look…Raven is laying near Lurrr, but not on top of him. Raven is face down, Lurrr is on his back…glass and popcorn is everywhere~

Smith: Holy smokes!! I can’t believe it!

Hood: The hell is wrong with James Raven? Did he suddenly become suicidal?

Smith: He’s in the moment, Hood. He’s fighting for the right to face Mike Best, the OCW Champion!

~Raven is the first to his feet. He spots blood soaked popcorn. He feels around, frantically looking for cuts. He seems to be okay...a trickle of blood falls from his head. He reaches up and feels a pretty good gash atop his forehead. He immediately looks around. He spots a guy wearing a Deadpool t-shirt. He asks if he can have it, the kid takes it off and hands it over. Raven rips the shirt and ties it around his head, as a tourniquet. Lurrr sits up, bewildered. The fans behind him recoil. We swivel around and see cuts all along his back. None are very long, or deep…there’s just a bunch of them. Blood starts to leak from them. Lurrr stands and begins to feel the pain in his back~

Smith: Great…Raven’s got a gashed head, and Lurrr’s got a shredded back.

Hood: This is what you have to get through if you want a shot at the biggest prize in the game, Smith.

Smith: Sometimes I think it’s too much, Hood.

Hood: Try telling that to these two men. Hell, try telling that to Mack!

~Raven, with the Deadpool shirt wrapped around his head, reaches over and feels around the keg shells. He finds one that’s empty and lifts it up. Lurrr turns around, and Raven slams the empty keg shell into Lurrr’s head!!! Lurrr flies backward, through the gap where the popcorn machine stood, back into the beer tap. Raven throws the keg shell at Lurrr. Lurrr moves and the keg shell takes out the beer tap and the concession sign!! The concession sign falls forward, landing safely on the ground, kicking up a bunch of dust. Raven finds another empty keg shell~

Smith: Raven is doing everything he can to win this…to end it.

Hood: No shit, man. His head is a leaky faucet. It’s not good to bleed from the head, you know.

Smith: Common sense would tell anyone that, Hood.

~Raven marches into the concession area, looking for Lurrr. Lurrr’s gone. He assumes Lurrr is on the other side, so he takes his foot and shoves against what remains of the concession stand…the entire thing tips over, landing with a huge thud. If Lurrr was over there…well, he’s in trouble. Raven walks atop the concession stand debris. His peripheral catches a violent motion…it’s too late. Lurrr runs him over with the cash register, slamming it into Raven’s right shoulder!!! Raven falls to the ground, landing atop a rubble of wood and hard plastic. Lurrr throws the cash register aside…this time it busts open. People rush forward to grab the money. Lurrr snares the empty keg shell and begins to bash it into Raven’s body. Raven rolls onto his front side, giving Lurrr his back. Lurrr beats him and beats him and beats him with the keg shell until, finally, Raven isn’t moving. Lurrr throws the keg shell aside and kicks Raven over. He makes the cover. Mack pops into view, dropping to his knees and making the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: James Raven kicked out! My gosh! I can’t believe it!

Hood: We need to drug test that man. I bet he’s on cocaine, and meth…and crack.

Smith: His face is too pure for meth and, most likely, crack.

Hood: I didn’t say he was a fucking meth or crack head..I’m insinuating he dabbles before big matches.

~Lurrr grabs Mack by his ref shirt, pointing a finger in O’Connor’s face. The OCW legend is growing weary of Raven’s inability to capitulate, accept defeat. We get a good look at Lurrr’s back…it may as well have been run over by a giant paintbrush soaked in red paint. Raven tries to get up…but he can’t. His back…after the Bifford match…and now the keg shots…it’s weakened to the point of being damn near useless. Lurrr looks over at Raven, to keep up on his meanderings. He sees Raven struggling to get up…the fans all chant “RAVEN! RAVEN!” Lurrr throws a heavy boot into Raven’s back, flattening him back out. He then goes back to chastising Mack. Mack isn’t about to put up with too much of Lurrr’s beligerence~

Smith: Mack’s been, arguably the most laid back ref in history…but he’s got his limit. He’s not going to let Lurrr accost him like this, especially in public.

Hood: But he’d be cool with it in private?

Smith: I’m just saying…public beratement is hard for any man to swallow, especially one with Mack’s pride.

~Mack finally gives Lurrr a warning. Lurrr chuckles…”This guy? This weak ass Hall of Famer warning ME? Fuck you!” Lurrr leans in with a wild head butt into Mack’s jaw!! Mack stumbles back, holding his jaw in pain. He looks up at Lurrr. He’s furious. He looks down at his ref shirt and smiles. He suddenly orders Lurrr to take the match back into the ring! Lurrr is nonplussed. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mack informs Lurrr that if he counts anybody out he’s announcing James Raven the winner. Lurrr is beside himself…he gets right up in Mack’s face. Mack threatens a DQ. Lurrr grinds his teeth, his left hand is balled into a fist…his right is unable but, if it could, it’d be wound up. Mack shoulders past Lurrr, heading toward the Fort. The fans go wild! Lurrr looks over at Raven, who appears a broken man. Lurrr looks into the darkening sky…it’s at this pivotal moment when floodlights flash on…giving us the luminescence necessary to continue. Lurrr’s eyes wince due to the increased light as he tries to find a way to overcome this situation~

Smith: Lurrr went too far…and now he’s going to pay the price.

Hood: Raven’s all fucked up. Dude’s done…he can’t walk, he’s primed to be pinned but now…now Mack changes the rules. Lurrr’s got to haul this mother fucker back into the fucking ring before Mack counts him out…if he can’t, Raven wins…I mean, seriously, talk about some fucked up logic.

Smith: Hey, Mack’s the ref. He makes the rules.

~Lurrr kicks at Raven saying “get up.” He kicks at him some more, “I said, get the fuck up! We gotta get this shit back into the ring, idiot.” Raven falls back into the rubble. Lurrr reaches down, grabbing Raven by the back of his neck. He pulls Raven to his feet…Raven fights back with a forearm uppercut!!! Lurrr staggers back, stunned by the act! Raven stumbles off the rubble, back into the dirt. He drops to his knees. The fans yell at him to get back into the arena…back into the ring. Raven looks ahead and sees Mack entering through the two giant doors. He stands and stumbles that way. Lurrr shakes off the dizzies from Raven’s hit. He spots Raven heading toward the Fort which, well, isn’t the worst case scenario~

Smith: I don’t think Raven really gets what’s going on…but he’s following the ref.

Hood: Hey, that’s a smart thing to do if you want to win a match.

Smith: Indeed

~Mack storms through the entry way, up to the ring. He rolls into the ring and pops to his feet. He pulls out his flask and takes a sip. He then yells out “FUCKING ONE!” The crowd chants along with him. Lurrr stalks Raven. Raven drops to one knee, reaching for his back. Lurrr snares Raven by the neck, pulling him up saying, “C’mon you sack of shit, back to the ring.” Raven elbows Lurrr in the gut!! Lurrr doubles over…Raven jumps up and delivers a CODEBREAKER!! Lurrr flips backward, hitting the dirt hard!!! Raven remains on his back, grimacing. Mack, back inside the ring, finishes a sip from his flask and yells out “FUCKING TWO!”~

Smith: Raven may not realize it but he’s inching closer to a win by just keeping Lurrr from reaching the ring.

Hood: I don’t think he knows much of anything going on right now…aside from the fact that he’s pretty fucked up.

Smith: He is in bad shape.

~Raven struggles back to his feet. He doubles over, placing his hands atop his knees. From inside the arena he hears Mack yell “FUCKING THREE!” His eyes focus…in his mind he’s thinking he can’t be counted out. So he moves with a purpose. He reaches for his back after a few steps…he reaches the doors into the arena and leans against them, falling to one knee. Mack yells out “FUCKING FOUR!” Lurrr rolls onto all fours and gets to his feet. He stumbles around…his back is covered in a maroon cake coating of dirt and blood. Some nasty infections are forthcoming. He spots Raven kneeling at the Fort’s entrance. Mack yells out “FUCKING FIVE!”~

Smith: Lurrr has got to get himself and James Raven into that ring if he wants the dream to continue.

Hood: Yes, we know…so what’s the deal here…Mack’s going to treat any sort of count out as a defacto DQ against Lurrr?

Smith: I don’t know. I just know Mack is going to give the win to Raven if anyone is counted out.

Hood: I’m not gonna say it…but…you know what I’m thinking.

Smith: Weak

Hood: ASS BOOKING

~Lurrr reaches Raven. He yanks Raven up and throws him down the entry way toward the ring. Raven tumbles through the dirt. Mack yells out “FUCKING SIX!” Lurrr’s eyes widen. He’s got to move! He grabs Raven and yells ‘GET UP, MOTHER FUCKER! GET UP!’ Raven is struggling due to his back. Mack yells out “FUCKING SEVEN!”~

Smith: He’s running out of time!

Hood: If Mack goes through with this, I’m done with him. Fuck him.

Smith: This wouldn’t be an issue if Lurrr hadn’t decided tonight was open season on officials.

~Lurrr grabs Raven by the arm, dragging him toward the ring. Mack yells out “FUCKING EIGHT!” They near the ring area. It looks like they are going to make it. Lurrr pulls Raven up and goes to throw him in the ring…but Raven drops to both knees. Mack yells out “FUCKING NINE!” Lurrr’s panicked. He tries to dive in but remembers he can’t…he looks up at Mack. Mack opens his flask and takes a sip. Lurrr grabs Raven and, forced to use his right hand for extra leverage, screams out in pain. He gets Raven up and throws him into the ring. Mack finishes his sip and goes to extend his hands…but Lurrr dives in and pops to his feet, begging Mack…Mack backs away saying “It’s cool, you made it.” Lurrr sighs. He suddenly falls to the mat as Raven takes him over with a roll up!!! Mack slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!

NOOOOO

Smith: Lurrr kicked out!!

Hood: Sneaky ass Raven!

Smith: He’s beaten…he may be temporarily broken, but he’s not going to quit.

~We see a dark red streak on the mat from where Raven rolled Lurrr up. His back is staining everything it touches. Lurrr pops back to his feet, holding his right hand. Raven remains on his knees. He looks up at Lurrr…there’s a desperate look in Raven’s eyes. Lurrr throws THE WAKE-UP CALL at Raven’s head. Raven ducks!! Raven jumps to his feet…he leaps up, grabs Lurrr by the head and drops him with Flight of the Raven!!! He twists Lurrr around and winds up on top of him for the pin!!! The crowd goes wild!! Mack is like “OH SHIT” He drops down, making the count~

1!

2!

3!!!

NOOOO

Smith: Ahhhhh

Hood: Oh my fucking shit…how the hell was that not a three?

Smith: Lurrr got his shoulder up…according to Mack!

Hood: And according to you?

Smith: It…it was close.

~Raven gets to his knees holding three fingers up. Mack shows two while sipping from his flask. Raven’s got desperation on his face. He leans forward, palms on the mat, shaking his head. A few droplets of thick blood fall from the shirt wrapped around his head…it’s clearly soaked in blood. Lurrr rolls away from Raven, unaware of how close shit was to ending. Raven fights to his feet. He leans against the ropes, wincing. His back is tightening up. Raven bends over and stomps his foot into the mat…he’s looking for that superkick he calls The F.Y.S. Lurrr returns to his feet. Raven throws The F.Y.S. at Lurrr…but, like before, Lurrr’s got a sixth fucking sense when it comes to superkicks. He grabs Raven and hoists him onto his shoulders…he spins Raven around and drops him with a LUNGBLOWER!!! Raven writhes around, yelling out in pain. Lurrr sits up, smiling, wiping sweat from his mouth as he looks at Raven going through hell as pain fires off and shoots through his back~

Smith: That’s it…that’s got to be it. Raven’s back is blown.

Hood: King Infinity should have warned him, Smith. He came in here and got his back fucked up…and now Raven is experiencing the same thing. OCW breaks people’s backs, man.

Smith: Three matches in one night…defeating a five hundred pound man, it’s a lot for a person’s body to go through. Maybe too much.

~Lurrr crawls over and quiets the body of Raven. He pins the man’s shoulders to the mat, thinking he’s doing the guy a favor. Mack drops down, making the count~

1!

2!

Shoulder Up!

Smith: Oh no, Raven…stay down, man!

Hood: What an idiot!

Smith: You’ve got another home that needs you…we’ve enjoyed your presence but this is too much. Go home, Raven. Go home!

~Lurrr looks around like “Are you fucking serious?” He rakes Raven across the face for fun with his left hand. He returns to his feet. He looks at Mack and says “You going to let this guy continue?” Raven’s on the mat, reaching for his back, squirming around in obvious discomfort. Mack shrugs and replies, “I wouldn’t give up. Why should he?” Lurrr rolls his eyes and slowly shoves Mack out of his way~

Smith: Mack’s got a point but nobody is saying Raven wants to quit. Sometimes you have to step in for someone’s own good…for their well being.

Hood: I agree whole heartedly. Ring the fucking bell! Let’s call it a night and head back to Key West.

~Lurrr pulls Raven back to his feet and whips him into a corner. Raven runs awkwardly before slamming his back into the buckles. He arches his back and falls to his knees. Lurrr stands over Raven and slaps him in the face. He places his hand under Raven’s chin, pulling him up. Lurrr steps back, looking for the WAKE UP CALL. He lunges forward…Raven ducks!! Raven spins around and rakes Lurrr across the back!! Lurrr yells out in pain!!! Raven’s hands are covered in blood and dirt. He doesn’t care…he stands in position…Lurrr turns around and gets hit with The F.Y.S.!!!! Lurrr’s body flips backward, nearly landing on his neck!! Raven falls on top of Lurrr for the pin!!! The crowd goes wild!! Mack drops down, making the count~

1!

2!

3

NOOO

Smith: NOT AGAIN

Hood: This feels like a fucking troll job!

Smith: Lurrr withstood another one of Raven’s signature moves! Holy smokes! That felt like Raven’s last gasp!

Hood: Custer’s last stand! Time for Sitting Lurrr to eviscerate this fool.

~Raven rolls off of Lurrr, reaching for his back. He stares up into the lights that are shining down onto the ring. He had it. That was it! He finally hit Lurrr with the F.Y.I. and the old son of a bitch kicked out. Raven tries to sit up, but can’t. He rolls onto his side, then his front, performing a weak push up to his knees. He looks over at Lurrr, shaking his head. Lurrr reaches back, snaring the ropes and pulling his body into the corner where he rests against the bottom buckle. He sees Raven looking at him…Lurrr reaches down and grabs his crotch and says “Fuck you, bitch.” Raven scowls. He struggles to his feet. Lurrr reaches for the middle rope, then the top, pulling his old, broken body to its feet. The two men stagger toward one another. They are talking shit in each other’s face, neither backing down. Mack, in the background, enjoys another pull from his flask, enjoying this high dollar entertainment~

Smith: After all of this…after everything…we’re back here, center of the ring with two men staring each other down.

Hood: Yea but they’re ghosts of their former selves. They are spent.

Smith: Yes, they are…but one of them, someone is going to emerge the winner. One of these men will walk away with a shot at Mike Best and his OCW Championship.

~Lurrr throws a left hand! Raven throws one in response. Lurrr another. Raven another!! The two men are brawling, southpaw style!! The crowd is on their feet, cheering these two warriors on!! The fists fly, the battle rages!! Lurrr’s heavy hands are earning him an advantage. Raven is losing ground. So, Raven does what he must, he grabs Lurrr’s right hand and squeezes!!! Lurrr drops to his knees, wincing in pain. Raven pulls and squeezes and yanks, trying to get Lurrr to tap or pass out…or, at the very least, keep him subdued~

Smith: That hand has been a target all night for Lurrr.

Hood: Fucking Stranger…making Lurrr injure his hand in the opening match…and then fucking Andrea breaking the damn thing.

~Lurrr reaches up with his left hand, yanking the Deadpool shirt off of Raven’s head. He digs into Raven’s head with his left hand!! Raven drops to his knees, yelling in pain!!! Neither man will let go of their opponents Achilles Heel. So, they start throwing head butts at one another. Bang! Bang! BANG! The third head butt creates a giant cloud of blood mist and sends both men collapsing to the mat! Mack looks down and shakes his head…he’s got to do some more counting. He throws his arms up and yells “FUCKING ONE!”~

Smith: Don’t tell me a double count out.

Hood: Does Lurrr still lose if Mack counts them out?

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. I think Lurrr has earned Mack’s respect tonight.

Hood: Talk about some backward logic. Mack has to earn Lurrr’s respect!

~”FUCKING FOUR!” Mack yells, advancing fairly quickly in the count. He pauses to take a sip of his flask. Neither Lurrr nor Raven have moved. “FUCKING FIVE!” Mack yells out. He takes another pull of whiskey…HOW BIG IS THIS FLASK. “FUCKING SIX!” We’ve STILL yet to see any movement aside from heaving chests. “FUCKING SEVEN!” Mack takes a pull and pauses…he looks down, the damn thing is finally empty. He shakes his head and throws it into the crowd~

Smith: And Mack’s finally run out of whiskey.

Hood: Never thought that’d happen.

~Mack reaches into his pocket and pulls out A SECOND FLASK. He takes a sip and then yells out “FUCKING EIGHT!!” Raven sits up!!! The crowd goes wild! Mack seems surprised. He takes a pull from his second flask and yells “FUCKING NINE!” Raven struggles but gets to his feet. He looks down at Lurrr, who hasn’t moved~

Smith: And Raven is going to win this via count out…anti climatic but well earned

Hood: WEAK ASS –

~Mack takes a sip and then yells out “FUCKING T…” LURRR KIPS UP!!!~

Smith: WHAT?!

Hood: GUESS WHO’S BACK, BABY!

~Raven can’t believe it! Lurrr looks at Raven and gives him the middle finger! Raven throws The F.Y.S. at Lurrr!!! Lurrr ducks and grabs the ropes. Raven stumbles forward. Lurrr turns around and throws THE WAKE UP CALL!! But RAVEN DUCKS!! Lurrr staggers forward and turns around. Raven throws The F.Y.S.!!!!!! Lurrr dodges it and lifts Raven over his head!! Raven flies through the air…he hits the ropes, springboards off…Lurrr turns around and Raven takes him down with the RAVENSAULT!!! Raven hooks both legs as Mack drops down, making the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!!!!!

~The crowd goes WILD!!! Lurrr kicks out right after three!!! Raven rolls off of Lurrr and out of the ring, to safety. Mack gets to his knees, shaking his head, taking a sip of whiskey. The bell rings. Lurrr gets to his knees, eyes wide wondering what the fuck just happened~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the Block Party Champion…JAMES RAVEN!!!!!

Smith: He did it!! James Raven did it!

Hood: ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!

~Lurrr rolls onto his back, grabbing at his head with his hands, staring into the sky in disbelief. Mack hops out of the ring to check on Raven. He helps James to his feet. James face is covered in blood…his back is wrecked with pain…but, he’s the winner. Mack holds Raven’s arm up…the fans go wild “RAVEN! RAVEN! RAVEN!” Mack offers Raven a pull of whiskey. Raven takes a whiff and accepts. Lurrr rolls out of the ring, holding his right hand. He looks back over his shoulder…Mack helps Raven into the ring to celebrate. Lurrr shakes his head, doubling over, placing both hands on his knees~

Smith: Heck of an effort from Lurrr. Heck of an effort…for one night we saw the old Lurrr return. We saw the legend in his former form…the clock turned back as Lurrr showed us all why he’s the original icon of OCW.

Hood: Ah shit, man…you’re gonna get me all nostalgic over here with your whimsical bullshit

~Belvedere walks up and hands Lurrr his Hall of Fame Title. Lurrr takes it and looks at Belvedere, patting him on the chest. Lurrr throws the belt over his shoulder. He turns back around, staring into the ring…his eyes are watery…it’s obvious how much this meant to him. To get so close is…well, so very painful. Medics rush up to help him but he pushes them away, moving to exit the arena~

Smith: Thank you, Lurrr. Thank you for the effort and for giving us everything you had all evening long.

Hood: Now fly out to Vegas and fuck some bitches!

~Mack makes sure Raven is steady. Raven tells Mack he’s gonna be alright. Mack rips his ref shirt off and tosses it out of the ring. He exits, drinking from his flask, giving Raven the spotlight. The fans continue chanting and cheering for James Raven~

Smith: James Raven has a date against Mike Best, Hood. James Raven against Mike Best for the OCW Title.

Hood: What the fuck is this bullshit, seriously…one guy wasn’t here a month ago and the other guy doesn’t really work here. THAT’S OUR MAIN EVENT…ugh, man.

Smith: He earned it! It’s a dream match, Hood and it’s taking place exclusively in OCW!

Hood: What if Raven wins the OCW Title?

Smith: Then he wins it…and defends it.

Hood: These are shaky times, Smith.

Smith: The OCW foundation is shifting, folks. Stay tuned for what should be a wild ride with many ups and downs. Thank you for joining us tonight…congratulations to all the warriors who left everything they had in that ring.

Hood: Amen to that.

Smith: Block Party is behind us…uncertainty lies ahead as we begin the march toward Not Safe For Work…we’ll see you all back in Key West next Monday for what should be an interesting evening…good night everyone!

Hood: Whew, about time…never thought this show would fuckin end.

~Due to some weak ass production we’re able to catch that last line of dialogue from Hood before focusing on a final image of James Raven standing tall inside an OCW ring. We fade to black~