~Luckily for the select few hundred OCW Faithful, OCW Staff and OCW talent the tall propane tower heaters placed all over are helping against the cold in Northern Alberta, Canada sitting around. The large Lease Site has been lined with trailer-generators with light towers to illuminate the make-shift venue, and 7 row stands been erected on three sides of the classic red and black OCW ring, but they are in halves so the large propane tower heaters can be placed in between each one. A large OCWTron has been constructed above the fancy living trailers that Oil Company Engineers have provided with all the comforts money can buy. The Drilling rig on standby, waiting for OCW to leave so they can get back to work, but the rig workers enjoy a view of the ring and fans from the rig floor and up in the bird’s nest on the extremely tall Derrick, which stands at 26 metres (85ft) above the floor which is roughly 7 metres (23ft) from the frozen tundra made up of mostly clay with soil mixed in.~

~The announcers table is just off to the right of the makeshift entrance way from the fancy trailers that are behind the OCWTron where Smith and Hood sit bundled up, with two propane heater towers on either side of them. The camera units pan around the site as the loud speakers built onto the sides of the 6 mini 7 row stands around the ring and on either side of the OCWTron as it comes to life with “NOW THAT WE ARE DEAD” by Metallica starting to play.~

IN OCTOBER A NEW ERA
TOOK OVER IN OCW

VICTORIA STRADER CAME IN
TO SHAKE THINGS UP

OWNERSHIP WAS ANGRY
WITH THE BOARD
FOR BRINGiNG A STRADER
SLASH KNOX IN

COMMISSIONER STRADER
DIDN'T LET THAT STOP HER FROM CHANGING THE LANDSCAPE

FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER
OCW HAD A RUMBLE IN THE BRONX
AND BROUGHT BACK THE PRESTIGIOUS PARADIGM BELT

BREATHING NEW LIFE INTO
THE COMPANY BUT STILL
KEEPING IT

CLASSIC OCW, BABY!

ACCUSED IN HER REIGN OF
NOT KNOWING HOW TO BOOK
AND ACCEPTING SEXUAL FAVOURS FOR
TITLE OPPORTUNITIES

SHE PROVED THEM ALL WRONG
AS OCW IS NOW OVER FORTY PERCENT FEMALE
BRINGING IN A STEADY STREAM OF NEW TALENT
EVEN IF SOME ARE TRAINED BY IGNORANCE AND DON’T UNDERSTAND THAT THE BUSINESS DOESN’T REVOLVE AROUND ANNOYING KNOW IT ALL TEENAGERS

AS THE END OF THE YEAR IS IMMINENT
OCW IS IN THE GREAT NATON TO THE NORTH
COMPETING IN A DANGEROUS SETTING

FOR BLOOD
FOR PRIDE
FOR BRAGGING RIGHTS
FOR CHAMPIONSHIP GOLD
AND EVEN FOR CAREERS

BECAUSE IN PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING, EVERYONE IS…

OCW Presents: HARDWIRED TO SELF-DESTRUCT
LIVE! December 31st 2022
FROM: Drilling Rig Site
Fox Creek, Alberta Canada

~The OCW Faithful surrounding the ring in the bleacher stands are on their feet as the distinct sound of helicopter blades can be heard in the distance and rapidly getting closer as Smith begins to welcome everyone to the show.~

Smith: Welcome everyone to HARDWIRED TO SELF-DESTRUCT LIVE from - - -

Hood: THE GREAT NATION TO THE NORTH!

Smith: That’s right! It’s been promised to be a big night and a great way to end 2022 as we enter into 2023 with new ownership!

Hood: Think Dean actually pulled off buying OCW?

Smith: Need to know who to blow to keep your job, Hood?

Hood: Someone is saucy tonight! Naw, they need to blow me to keep my top-notch colour-commentary on their fantastic programming.

Smith: Hopefully they don’t choke on small objects, Hood.

Hood: Small?!

~Hood stands up and starts to undo his belt as Smith holds up his hand to stop him then points to the sky as the helicopter heard just minutes ago is now hovering above the ring. The OCW Faithful are holding their toques (winter hats you uncultured swine) and whatnot from being pulled up and blown away. The camera pans up and the image appears on the OCWTron of The Commissioner Victoria Strader standing out of the door, all harnessed up. It’s Canada so there are cheers for the lone Knox/Strader in OCW as she jumps and comes down landing dead centre of the ring on the red OCW lettering. Taking off the harness the helicopter tech above pulls it back up and flies off.~

Smith: Quite the entrance from the Commissioner!

Hood: I started off not being the biggest fan of the boss because of my fondness to Thad, but since he was trying to win a popularity contest and has decided to sell, fuck that guy, and all hail Queen Strader!

Smith: You are the ficklest man I have ever known.

Hood: Pickle’s are great. You know that start as cucumbers?

~Smith stares blankly at his broadcast partner as Belvedere in his normal suit (and thermal under garments) hands the boss lady a microphone as the Metallica theme fades out. Victoria sneers for the OCW Faithful.~

Victoria Strader: WELCOME TO... HARDWIRED TO SELF-DESTRUCT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~Strader throws her arm up in the air with the devil horn’s and the small vet vivacious crowd of a few hundred sounds like a few thousand (no crowd noise being pumped out here, this isn’t actually a Premium Live Event, stg). Strader sneers turning to a big grin.~

Victoria Strader: Tonight, we are going to end 2022 in true “CLASSIC OCW, BABY!” fashion. We are going to kick this bitch off with a match that I know will set the tone with SYNN taking on a changed Dylan Thomas to decide who will face the Craze Champion in the new year!

Following that we have the returning BASTARD Crash Rodriguez taking on one of the hottest signings OCW has had since my twin sister in Crash’s fellow BASTARD The Nickleman that will make my Paradigm Champion work hard to retain her strap~

Smith: If she gets past Shane Donovan!

Hood: Hey, the Commissioner knows the greatness that is Sahara Duke!

Victoria Strader: Then you are getting a huge treat with OCW Legend and Hall of Famer in Scott Syren taking on one of, if not the best, (sorry Aunt Tamika) Craze Champion of all time in Harmon “Harmony” Egan!

~The OCW Faithful pop, as they should, this is a big fucking match.~

Victoria Strader: Then things are gonna get a little fucking weird when the team I personally sought out and signed to OCW deals in Desdemona and Phoenix aka HaVeN will take on one of the most infamous and notorious tag teams this business has ever seen when THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS defend the coveted OCW Tag Team Championships for the Brotherhood of Bastards!

Smith: It is an interesting matchup. We haven’t seen HaVeN in action but something tells me Them No Good Bastards are going to have a fight of a lifetime, Hood.

Hood: The Bastards will get it done. Simple as that.

Victoria Strader: Of course, one of the matches I am most excited about is Sahara Duke gracing us with her valuable presence as she defends her prestigious and gorgeous OCW Paradigm Championship against the “manmademonster” Shane Donovan! Not to sell Donovan short, because he is fantastic but with Sahara being the only Duke that matters in OCW, she is going to finish off 2022 with dominance giving all of us a preview of what’s to come in 2023!

~The Faithful boo but it doesn’t phase Victoria in the slightest.~

Victoria Strader: But while that is a main event in any company out there the final match of the evening to kick off OCW into the New Year is a heavyweight match of epic proportions. Our OCW Champion, the man that had meteoric rise in his return to the ring becoming the Savage champion on his rise to winning a chance for the top title being the last man standing at OCW’s annual Margarita Mix, PIC is having a Hall of Fame-esque run in the twilight of his career. He’s not only defending against one juggernaut in the form of two-time OCW Champion The Big Bifford, who’s made important changes in his life to redeem himself. I talked about Dylan Thomas being the heart of OCW on Piledriver on Boxing Day but the soul of this establishment? Mike “Dreamweaver” Zybala who over the past five and a half years has superkicked his way into our hearts. While he was a massive pain in my ass the last three months, it was only to better this company. He has his career on the line tonight which is damn near as valuable as the OCW Championship.

But just like everything in professional wrestling, it’s all - - -

OCW FAITHFUL: HARDWIRED TO SELF-DESTRUCT!

Victoria Strader: Goddamn right it is! Let’s get this show started!

~”Just A Girl” by No Doubt starts up as the crazy Canadian OCW Faithful cheer loudly as Victoria makes her way through the makeshift entrance under the OCWTron and towards her personal consultants trailer.~

Smith: Time to get this show started and I hear The Big Bifford is gonna kick things off!

Hood: I could go for one of his quality chicken sandwiches!

Smith: You know what they are made of right? Homeless people.

Hood: Vicious rumour.

Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires

~ The Big Bifford and Earl the Popcorn Salesman are standing around in one of the “locker rooms” provided. Earl is dressed for the weather and looks like he hates the cold. Bifford, on the other hand, looks downright jovial. ~

Bifford: We’re goin’ old school tonight.

Earl: What the hell does that mean?

Bifford: I’m winning my first legitimate World Title..

Earl: Okay, even if we believe your insane premise that the OCW was illegitimate from 2001 until fucking 2022.. you won the GCWA belt twice.

Bifford: Pfft.. GCWA. Pfft. This is the real belt.. and my first time. Like a virgin. Like a fucking virgin.

Earl: Very disturbing imagery, Bifford. Very disturbing.

~ The door to the “locker room” opens and Boris the Cannibal walks in, wearing a good amount of winter clothing. Bifford looks at Earl and then back at Boris and gives an uncomfortable look. ~

Bifford: Whatcha.. doing here.. Boris?

~ Boris shrugs. ~

Earl: I got back in the country.. I’m a part of the team again.

~ Bifford moves his head around like he’s uncomfortable. ~

Bifford: Well you know.. with the current climate and.. you know.. with.. you guys invading Poland and stuff..

Earl: Ukraine.

Bifford: What?

Earl: Ukraine. Russia invaded Ukraine.

Bifford: Whatever.. one of those countries with the strudel and dumplings..

Earl: Oh shit we’re gonna get some letters..

~ Bifford stops and looks at Earl. ~

Bifford: We get letters?

Earl: Yeah.. same four or five people.. since 2001. They write monthly with complaints. PETA has been pretty quiet though.

Bifford: Oh yeah.. we’ll have to do something unsafe with animals soon..

Earl: So am I okay to be here?

~ Bifford looks at Boris, his mouth awkwardly held open. ~

Bifford: Nah... you gotta just go work at the offices.

Earl: Can I kill and eat people?

Bifford: No... if that’s all you can eat, then go find a corrupt guy at the coroner.

Earl: For reals? I’ll just get a few homeless.

Bifford: No. More. Killing.

~ Bifford looks at Boris and might wink. It’s not clear. Boris smirks and nods and walks away. Earl looks at Bifford with suspicion. ~

Earl: Just what the fuck timeline are we in? Are you wrestling like this tonight or are you putting that evil fucking demon cloak back on?

Bifford: We’ll have to see.. I haven’t totally made up my mind yet.

Earl: That makes no sense. There were two timelines...

Bifford: It’s a television show. Pike doesn’t seem to get that either... but tonight Pike’s delusions of wrestling grandeur come to an end. A Biff End. And then Pike will be tossed out of the ring and into the new Lightweight Division, so I can pin Mike Zybala. Wherever Zybala's lifeless cadaver is laying, I will find his corpse, and I will pin that carcass to the ground and end his miserable career for once and for all!

Earl: You don’t got no guilt about that?

Bifford: Oh, trust me... the thought of ending Michael Zybala’s career turns me on more than a warm beer on a hot Christmas Day.

~ Earl thinks that over for a second and cringes as the door to the “locker room” swings open and SMOKEY THE BEAR comes running in and runs toward Bifford, lunging at him with rage and anger. Bifford, however, is ready and backdrops the bear, who lands with a horrifying thump. Bifford looks at Earl and nods with a big smiles on his face. ~

Earl: Really? Bifford? You hired Smokey the Bear? In 2022?

Bifford: We goin’ OLD SCHOOL!

~ The scene fades back to the ring. ~

Smith: For those of you too young to remember, back in the early 2000s, Bifford would be attacked by Smokey the Bear before every title shot. Bifford had declared a war on trees and was encouraging people to start forest fires.

Hood: That bear holds a grudge a long time..

CRAZE #1 CONTENDER MATCH
SYNN (2-1) V.S. DYLAN THOMAS (20-15)

Smith: Here we go, Hood! Time to kick off the show with the first match of the evening! A chance to challenge for the Craze title in the new year!

Hood: This isn’t quite the bad guy Thomas I was hoping for, but it’s good to see him back with an edge!

Smith: Even if it’s basically a cult?

Hood: Shhh.... Belvedere wants to get going.

Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hardwired to Self-Destruct! The opening contest is scheduled for one-fall, and like all matches tonight will follow standard rules for a match however no count outs and the match can go all over the site BUT the pin, knockout or submission must take place in the ring! The following match is for a chance to challenge for the OCW Craze Championship in 2023! Introducing first...

~The outdoor crowd is buzzing as one of the newest additions to OCW music hits the loud speakers set up on the bleachers and the sides of the OCWTron start to pump out “YEN” by Slipknot and the OCW Faithful are on their feet! SYNN comes out behind the curtain set up under the OCWTron, looking out to crowd, all wide eyed and creepy-like.~

Belvedere: Hailing from Anchorage, Alaska and weighing in at one-hundred-and-fifty-five pounds... she is... SYNN!!!!!!!!!!

~The Faithful pop at her name as she walks the short distance to ring, sliding under the bottom rope, and stands up but bends at the waist, cocking her head to the side looking around to the crowd and towards the commentary table with a creepy smile behind the grease paint on her face.~

Smith: She is definitely creepy.

Hood: Not sure if I am frightened, Smith... or incredibly erect.

Smith: Don’t point that thing at me, I would like to stay herpes free.

Belvedere: And her opponent...

~The opening bars of 'Watch Me Shine' by Fozzy plays and some of the Faithful in attendance begin to stand with a subtle 'DT' chant, while others boo. After a few moments the curtain jerks and through the curtain enters Lopa followed by her disciples. Upon seeing them, everyone boos again. The trio ignores them and then a few moments later Dylan arrives on stage, looking around at the Faithful and the OCW Faithful are back to their 50/50 split.~

Belvedere: Hailing from Greenwich, Connecticut but residing in Hollywood, California... weighing in at two-hundred-and-twenty-five pounds accompanied by the Children of Vard... DYLAN THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!

~Dylan ignores the jeering fans and when he reaches the ring and he walks up the ring steps and then hops up on the apron and steps through the ropes. Dylan then smirks and hops up on the nearest turnbuckle merely staring out at the sea of people booing at him. Juff tells the Children of Vard to head back to the fancy trailers, informing them they are not allowed at ringside.~

Smith: Seems that the Commissioner has ordered the Children of Vard back to the staging area behind the curtain.

Hood: Unfair but Dylan doesn’t need them to win. The Craze title is the Dylan Thomas title and he doesn’t need help to get a shot at it.

Smith: I think Tamika Strader and Harmon Egan might have something to say about it being the A-Lister’s title.

Hood: Meh.

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: You know that Juff’s mere presence, should be a concern because he is somewhat timid but a good opportunity for him to grow.

Hood: Can’t be putting Puff, Gruff or Scruff in an opening match when Tuff, Juff and Cuff are the noobs. Solid decision making right here.

~ SYNN looks in Thomas’s direction, and Thomas returns the look adding his A-Lister Grin. Thomas acts like he's going to lock-up but fakes back and SYNN stands there, not falling for it. SYNN finally charges in and locks up with Thomas forcing him towards the ropes, she hits a knife edge chop that Thomas absorbs. They lock up again and this time Thomas gets the momentum, he whips SYNN into the ropes, SYNN ducks a clothesline, bounces off the other ropes, Thomas hops over her...they both bounce off the ropes...double clothesline. ~

Hood: I am glad it’s warmer this year and there are heaters. No one can throw in the towel for him!

Smith: No one ever found out who did that either!

Hood: Probably that little weasel, Allton. Super jealous

~ Both competitors quickly get to their feet and SYNN immediately hooks up with Thomas, she tries for a hip toss but Thomas drops it down into a reverse armbar.~

Smith: SYNN is in some serious pain but it's way too early in the match for a tap out. Thomas is pulling SYNN's arm around her neck, and pulling back even tighter now with this hold.

~Juff checks to make sure SYNN isn't tapping, Thomas wrenches tighter as SYNN inches for the ropes. A little bit further...inch by inch...she made it! Thomas breaks the hold, and now he's stomping a pot hole in SYNN! Thomas picks SYNN up off the ground, he has her in a reverse torture rack now, he's bending SYNN in two!!!~

Hood: Thomas drops her backwards with ease smashing her beneath his body to the canvas! He makes the pin! Yeah! GO DYLAN!

1!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Shoulder up by SYNN after that spectacular move from Thomas.

~ SYNN gets to her feet and barely makes it to the turnbuckle, Thomas is charging towards her, elbow smash to the head of SYNN! Thomas seems to be making this his match here tonight, Thomas with another elbow smash, Thomas goes for one more but SYNN, ducks out of the way. SYNN bounces off the ropes, flying clothesline! Thomas's down! SYNN whips Thomas to the ropes, Thomas holds onto the ropes...here comes SYNN, she's going to clothesline Thomas over... Dylan holds the top rope down, but SYNN puts on the brakes a second before sailing over. A kick to the midsection of Thomas, SYNN bounces off the ropes...running DDT! She just planted Thomas with that move. ~

~ SYNN is down on the ground punching Thomas with everything she's got. Thomas pushes SYNN off, but SYNN comes right back with another round of punches to the face of Thomas. She pulls Thomas to his feet...keeps hold of his arm, SHORT ARM CLOTHESLINE!!! SYNN with the cover. ~

1!

2!!

Hood: He kicked out! Ha! Thatta boy!

~ SYNN picks Thomas up by the waist and hits a belly-to-back suplex. SYNN picks up Thomas and side slams him. She stands up and whips Thomas into the ropes and hits a powerslam, she pulls up a leg.

1!

KICKOUT!

~ Thomas pushes SYNN off of his chest and pushes himself to his feet. SYNN pushes Thomas down before he can stand all the way up, and elbow drops him back down. Thomas grabs SYNN's leg, bends it back...and sits down on SYNN's back. ~

Hood: Half Crab! Thomas is putting on the pressure now. SYNN is so far from the ropes, she's going to tap!

Smith: SYNN is trying to fight it, she's clawing her way to the ropes...but Thomas just pulled her back to the center. SYNN is still fighting it!!!

OCW Faithful: SYNN!!!! SYNN!!!!! SYNN!!!!

Smith: SYNN going on another attempt for the ropes...but Thomas is grabbing SYNN's other leg...he's twisting her around...he's pushing himself to his feet...another twist...leg in place...

Hood: Elevated Boston Crab! Juff’s lifting his hand! This crazy broad is done!

1!

Smith: Come on SYNN get up!

2!!

Hood: Come on let it hit!!!

~ SYNN's hand didn't hit!!! Thomas is furious! He's wrenching back harder. SYNN is making one last attempt for the ropes...HAND ON THE ROPES!! Thomas has to break the hold. Thomas picks SYNN up and locks on a sleeper, he drops it down into a sleeper drop. Thomas is choking SYNN....but Juff isn't having it. Thomas backs off, but gives the referee dark stare for it. ~

Smith: Thomas is picking SYNN up once again!

~ Body slam! Thomas picks SYNN up again, Thomas picks her up in a vertical suplex. SYNN slips out and pushes Thomas into the ropes. SYNN jumps into the air and hits huge drop kick that sends Thomas barreling over the top rope to the dirt covered by thin mats, and with all the clumps of clay/dirt that is Alberta soil and rocks make it even more unforgiving than concrete covered by the thin mats placed atop of it! Thomas is getting ready to slide back in but a timely baseball slide from SYNN to the forehead of Thomas sends him sailing into the safety rail. SYNN is going to the outside. SYNN with one helluva a haymaker to Thomas. Thomas answers back with a kick to the midsection! Thomas with a knee smash to the head of SYNN. But SYNN right back up to her feet and gives a shot to the leg of Thomas. SYNN with another shot...Thomas's on the ground!!! SYNN is up on the apron and jumps off with a leg drop but Thomas rolls out of the way...SYNN is holding that leg...Thomas grabs SYNN and rolls her under the bottom rope. Thomas ties up with SYNN, T-bone suplex. Thomas goes up top and a huge 450 to SYNN. Thomas with a pin. ~

1!

2!!

SHOULDER UP!!!

~ Thomas looks frustrated as he drops down with a chop to the neck of SYNN. He follows up with a leg drop to the throat and goes for another cover.~

1!!

KICKOUT!!!!

~ Thomas picks SYNN up and drops her down with a shin breaker, Thomas puts her down and sticks his foot in the back of SYNN and pulls her arms back for a surfboard stretch. SYNN pulls away and makes a leap for the ropes holding her back. Thomas charges towards her, SYNN ducks, kicks him in the midsection, lifting him up connecting with a hangman DDT! ~

1!

2!!

Hood: Kick out, Dylan! Don’t let her beat you!

3-NOOOOO!!!!!!

Hood: Thomas's foot is on the ropes! Yes!

Smith: Dylan is holding his neck but so is SYNN. Both of these competitors have put each other through hell tonight and this is just the opening match! Truly setting the tone!

~ Thomas and SYNN lock-up again. SYNN with a neck-breaker but Thomas breaks free and hits a neck-breaker drop. Thomas lifts SYNN back up and nails a reverse DDT! He makes a cover, hooking her leg. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

Hood: Fucking slow count!

Smith: No, it wasn’t. Juff has done well tonight!

~ SYNN staggers to her feet, as soon as she becomes stable Thomas whips her into the ropes and Dylan catches her with a sleeper. SYNN closes her eyes for a second, her grease paint all messed up and looks like she could be fading. ~

Hood: SYNN looks like she's going to give....

Smith: SYNN....DROPPED THE SLEEPER INTO A JAWBREAKER!!!

~ SYNN quickly scoops Thomas up into his arms and hits a fall-away slam. Thomas somehow hops right back up to his feet and before SYNN can figure out what’s going Thomas hits a huge superkick!

Hood: THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE! No way she survives a Superkick from the A-Lister!

~ However, the move was almost like a basic reflex, nothing more, the previous fall-away slam takes effect and Thomas drops face first next to SYNN, both competitors completely out! ~

Smith: Thomas can’t capitalize on the move! Juff’s circling both competitors, checking them out, and yelling at the them he has to start counting if they don’t do something!

1!

2!!

3!!!

4!!!!

5!!!!!

6!!!!!!

7!!!!!!!

Smith: Juff’s being very methodical in his count, fair and steady… he’s already reached seven!

Hood: Dylan is stirring, he drapes an arm over SYNN! Fuck yeah!

Juff drops, and counts.

1!

2!!

SHOULDER-UP!!!!!

Hood: SYNN avoids the pin! Fuck!

Smith: The slow cover was enough for SYNN, she’s still in the match!

Hood: If he only got that arm over a second or two earlier! Damn it!

~ SYNN rolls sideways, to get to her feet, as Thomas is on his hands and knees, drained from the effort. He watches SYNN use the ropes to rise, and shuffles painfully to his feet. Both competitors meet in the middle, going for a lock up, when Thomas sneaks behind SYNN for another sleeper hold, intending to finish the job!

Smith: Another sleeper! He is determined!

Hood: But SYNN is fighting it but it is futile...

~ But somehow by the grace of the elements, the ground starts to shake slightly, catching everyone off guard allowing SYNN to slip free using the tremors to her advantage and ducks behind Thomas and locks in her own sleeper hold as the tremors stop! Thomas looks tiredand unsettled by the tiny quake and SYNN is wearing him down... when Thomas yells for Juff to check the move! Juff does, and in his position misses Thomas’s next move!

Smith: LOW-BLOW!!!!!!!! NO!!!! THOMAS WITH THE LOW BLOW!!!!

Hood: How does that even hurt a woman?

Smith: It’s still a sensitive area, Hood. You have never once satisfied a woman, have you?

Hood: Hey, sex is race, and I always finish first like a real man!

~ Thomas then picks SYNN up in a suplex position and hits a devastating brain buster! He covers, arm over SYNN with all the energy he has left. ~

1!

2!!

SHE GRABS THE ROPE!

Hood: Fuck that he had her pinned!

~ Thomas picks a tired SYNN up off the ground...and out of nowhere SYNN counters and hits a huge Tornado DDT! But again, as before, the effort to cover is too much and SYNN fell away from Thomas and lays on her back, breathing hard to regain focus. Thomas lays on his back as well, eyes glazed, chest heaving. Juff begins the ten count, as both competitors don’t move.

1!

2!!

3!!!

4!!!!

5!!!!!

6!!!!!!

~ SYNN finally rolls over getting her arm over, Juff drops and hits the canvas to make the count! ~

1!

2!!

3NOSHOULDERUP!!!

Hood: Did she get him!!!?

~ Juff waves it off, holding up two fingers. SYNN can’t believe it, she was sure he had it. ~

Hood: Oh, thank fuck!

~ As both competitors stand, if that’s the word to use for their wavering posture, SYNN suddenly gets a burst of energy and he bounces off the ropes and hits huge spear! SYNN tries for the cover again, but Thomas shoulders out, heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Renewed vigor favours SYNN as she grabs Thomas and flips him over with a snap mare. SYNN then hits the ropes and drop kicks Thomas in the back of the head! With Thomas on his back, SYNN knees him in the head with three quick succession strikes! SYNN covers again. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Thomas refuses to stay down!

Hood: Goddamn right! He is The A-Lister!

~ Frustrated, SYNN lifts Thomas to his feet, and backs him into the corner! A couple knife edge chops gets the OCW Faithful to throw out some good ol’fashioned WOOs, before SYNN sends Thomas to the opposite corner. Thomas hits chest first, leaving red welts on his front, and SYNN comes rushing in. However, Thomas gets his wits about him, the pain firing synapses in the brain, and he twists, grabs SYNN by the hair and throws her chest first into the same corner!

Hood: Thomas retaliates smashing her bewbs! Thatta boy!

~ With SYNN hanging in the corner, Thomas turns her around and mounts the corner, coming down with haymakers on SYNN’s head! Juff comes over, ordering Thomas down, but his demands get no attention! Juff finally grabs Thomas’s arm to stop the attack and as Thomas turns to yell at the official, SYNN grabs Thomas around the waist and takes two steps out, planting Thomas onto SYNN’s knee in a very uncomfortable way! ~

Smith: Oh a little payback!

~ SYNN then hits a short arm clothesline on the green around the gills Thomas and with the Personification of Perfection down, SYNN attempts to go for a figure four leg lock! However, Thomas grabs SYNN and rolls her into a small package, Lost Soul style!

1~

2!!

KICKOUT!

Hood: Another slow count! I demand justice!

Smith: Oh shut up, Juff has shown real grit as an OCW Referee!

~ SYNN breaks out and jumps to her feet and goes for a knee to the head, but Thomas avoids it and as SYNN tries to stop his momentum from the dash, Thomas hops to his feet and strikes with another Zybala like superkick! SYNN ducks! Thomas drops to his feet, his balance skewered and SYNN spins him around and hooks him up! SYNN goes a reverse DDT! As she hooks Thomas’s head under her arm, Thomas kicks, trying to break free and he twists hard jumping up, his feet landing on the canvas, his head slipping free and as SYNN turns, she clothesline Thomas. Thomas shakes it off but SYNN is quick to the attack, bouncing off the ropes and hitting a stunning missile dropkick to Thomas. SYNN hops up onto the top rope and flies off with a stunning frog splash, only to be thwarted by Thomas's knees as he raises them up to block the impact. SYNN bounces off clutching her ribs and Thomas jumps to his feet ready to take advantage. Thomas lifts SYNN up off the canvas and elbows him directly between the eyes. SYNN stumbles back and he follows it up with a perfectly executed fallaway slam!!! The OCW Faithful pop as Thomas covers!

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!!!

~ SYNN kicks out, and Juff holds up two fingers and shakes his head. SYNN rolls away and gets to her feet. Thomas and SYNN are back up in the ring and taking shots back and forth now, until SYNN whips Thomas towards the corner. Thomas catches himself at the last minute and lifts his body upwards, his feet aimed back as SYNN runs towards him. Yet instead of running into Thomas's boots, SYNN stops herself and then grabs Thomas by the legs and rips him off the corner, spinning and dropping him down onto the canvas with a face-first spinebuster-turned-frontbuster that ignites the crowd! Not literally of course, because spontaneous combustion is still highly debated and it’s snowy BUT they're certainly into this heated action. SYNN is up and jumps onto the top rope but as she comes off with a double elbow drop Thomas rolls out of the away and avoids the hit, SYNN crashing to the canvas hard. ~

Smith: Still so back and forth between these two.

Hood: Don’t worry, Dylan will win this!

~ Thomas is up and lifts SYNN by her head and whips him into the ropes. As SYNN comes back Thomas goes for a spinning backbreaker but SYNN avoids and hits a Swinging Leg Hook Fireman's Carry Slam . Thomas, breathing heavily and wiping his face, feeling the effects of that move is given no time to rest as SYNN pounds the top of her chest with a surge of adrenaline. SYNN pulls Thomas into the BEAUTIFUL DISASTER (Sitout Butterfly Cradle Drop)!!!!!!!!! Juff drops to count the pin. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!

: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner via pinfall and new number one contender for the OCW CRAZE CHAMPIONSHIP... SYNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Smith: And SYNN has the daunting task of facing the winner of tonight’s Craze title match, and either way it will be a mountain.

Hood: Man, I’m glad I didn’t have money bet.

Smith: When are you gonna stop with the betting?

Hood: How can I stop if I don’t got the Sportsbucks? Huh? Answer that, smart guy.

Smith: Loan Shark.

Hood: But if I don’t pay em back, my legs will be broke!

Smith: One can hope.

The Revenge of Goon 83

~ The crowd dies down, the entrance way empty. Nothing happens for a few seconds until someone sees the man himself, Lavar Ball slowly walking out down towards the ring. Lavar grabs a mic and steps to the center of the ring. ~

Lavar: Now, I know all of you have been wondering where the legendary Ball Ball has been right!?

~ The crowd stays silent, aside from a few people murmuring “who is Ball Ball?” ~

Lavar: Alright, well anyways. Ball Ball was supposed to be the greatest heel known to mankind. Until tragedy struck. I tried to keep him on track for success, but he is insistent that he takes a formal break from OCW, until he can find out who caused the tragedy. If you know, you know. Ball Ball, how about you come out here anyways? Don’t play the music guys.

~ Ball Ball walks out from the curtain. He looks tired, and washed up. He steps into the ring with his lanky ass legs maybe for the last time. He grabs the mic from Lavar. ~

Ball Ball: Hello people. Ball Ball is going through some tough times right now. So Ball Ball will be taking a leave of absence, as well as the Goons. Yes, sorry there will be no more Goon action for OCW to enjoy. But, there is one Goon, who will retire from being a Goon. Chris, also known as Goon 83, will join the OCW roster. He is getting all the stuff set up now as Ball Ball speaks. In the new year, there will be no more Ball Ball. But there will be more Goon 83. Thank you all for being a part of Ball Ball’s career. Goodnight.

~ Lavar and Ball Ball step out of the ring, and walk out of the arena. Perhaps never to be seen again for the rest of the year but that’s only like three hours away so, there is that. ~

PARADIGM #1 CONTENDER MATCH
CRASH RODRIGUEZ (12-6-1) V.S. THE NICKLEMAN (11-3)

Smith: This is going to be quite the matchup, Hood! Bastard vs Bastard!

Hood: It’s just uncalled for to book two stable members against one another!

Smith: Well, the Commissioner wants to put on the best matches available and the former Craze Champion versus the former Savage Champion is one way to do it. You know The Nickleman wants to get another shot at the Paradigm title, and its been said Crash has his eye on it himself.

Hood: But I am conflicted, I don’t know who to root for!

Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one-fall and is for the number one contender spot for the OCW Paradigm Championship! Introducing first...

~ “No Love” by Death Grips starts to play through the outdoor speakers as it starts to snow lightly. Lou Pohl comes out bundled up like a wimp being cold, followed by The Crooked Man himself, Crash Rodriguez. ~

Belvedere: Hailing from the lesser Kansas City on the Missouri side weighing in at two-hundred-and-seven pounds representing The Brotherhood of Bastards and accompanied by manager Lou Pohl... he is The Crooked Man... CRASH RODRIGUEZ!!!!!

~ Crash and Lou make their way down to ringside. ~

Smith: Crash looks confident and Lou is all bundled up as it has started snowing out here but the propane heaters are doing their job melting them before they can land, at least within their radius.

Hood: Lucky for us we got two, and I have a little space heater under the desk keeping our chestnuts warm and toasty.

Smith: I thought I could smell your balls.

Hood: They are yours.

Belvedere: And his opponent...

~ “Since I’m a Bastard” starts to play and OCW Faithful boo as the Nickleman comes out, finger pistols fully loaded, looking side to side with his ugly sadistic grin. He looks towards the ring at his stablemate and grins from ear to ear. ~

Belvedere: Weighing in at two-hundred-and-sixty-five pounds hailing from Steubenville, Ohio... also representing The Brotherhood of Bastards... he is THE NICKLEMAN!

~ Nickleman lets the finger pistols “bang bang” at the sound of his name. He moves towards the ring, still smiling at Crash the whole time. ~

Smith: Nickleman staring down his ally.

Hood: Ally or not, this is for a chance at a prestigious OCW title, and friendship can’t get in the way.

Smith: That’s very true, Hood.

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Crash and Nickleman step to the center and nod to each other before shaking hands. They then step back and circle each other, checking the other out and sizing things up. A lock up and both men test each other’s strength before breaking off. They circle again, and another lock up and another clean break. Crash smiles but Nickleman grins right back at him. They lock up yet again, and Nickleman pushes Crash to the corner. Scruff orders for a break and Nickleman breaks on two. Back in the middle they lock up again, and Crash takes Nickleman to the corner, breaking on two. ~

Hood: Come on, one of ya attack!

Smith: Pretty sure they are feeling one another out.

~ Nickleman mouths ‘ready’ and Crash nods. They lock up, and Nickleman gets Crash into a reverse arm bar. Crash twists and reverses, putting Nickleman’s arm behind him. Nickleman goes to reverse, and Crash sends him down with a clothesline. Crash backs away, allowing Nickleman to stand, probably because he is a stablemate. They lock up again, Crash with an armbar, twisting it around, Nickleman reverses and puts Crash against the ropes before whipping him to the other side. As Crash comes back, Nickleman connects with a drop kick. ~

Hood: A dropkick from The Nickleman? Now I've seen everything.

Smith: We have seen him do one before, Hood.

~ Nickleman waits for Crash to stand but just barely rushing and hooking up. Crash with a headlock, Nickleman with a push off. Crash to the ropes. Nickleman leap frogs Crash. Crash comes back. Nickleman drops to his belly, Crash floats over to the other side. Nickleman gets up, goes for a hip toss. Crash blocks, and reverses it, hip tossing Nickleman. Nickleman hits hard, rolls up and meets Crash, returning the favor and dropping Crash with a hip toss. Crash rolls up and they clash. Crash with a forearm, Nickleman with a forearm. Crash with a chop, Nickleman with a chop. Crash grabs Nickleman in a front face lock and lifts him for a Suplex. Nickleman uses his weight, twists and lands behind Crash and hits a back Suplex. Crash hits hard, rolling away. Nickleman jumps to his feet, but doesn’t pursue.

Hood: Get after him!

Smith: It’s odd he isn’t bum rushing him.

~ In the corner, Crash confers with Lou, nodding at the given instructions. Nickleman raises an eyebrow but hesitates going in at him and waits. Crash gets up, claps for Nickleman (sarcastically? Probably) and nods to continue. Both men lock up and Nickleman backs Crash up into the corner and it is a clean break. Nickleman takes Crash down with an arm bar, but Crash fights out and locks in an arm bar of his own. Nickleman gets to the ropes, and the OCW Faithful is hot, with dueling chants. Crash locks in a keylock, but Nickleman is able to reverse. Crash and Nickleman continue to chain wrestler, trading holds, showing they are both skilled wrestlers. ~

Hood: Neither man is willing to give in to the other. It's really down the middle right now and I don’t like it.

Smith: As it should be. They are allies and should respect each other.

~ Nickleman sends Crash to the ring apron with a shoulder block, and there is a bit of water spray from melted snow that’s been trickling down slowly. Crash sends Nickleman to the outside with a shoulder block of his own. Nickleman tries for a German suplex, but Crash backflips out. Nickleman and Crash lock up in a test of strength, and Nickleman gets the advantage off the bat. Crash is able to roll through and put the pressure on Nickleman's hands, but Nickleman makes it to the ropes to force a break. Crash ducks and dives over and under Nickleman before hitting a beautiful dropkick. ~

Hood: Down goes the Bastard!

Smith: Crash showing Nickleman how to really do a dropkick apparently.

~ Crash locks in a rear chin lock, but Nickleman fights up to his feet. Crash hits a couple of elbows to the back of Nickleman's neck. Crash rocks Nickleman with a forearm in the corner before following up with a big chop. Crash hits a backbreaker that's good for a two count. Crash goes right back into the rear chin lock, but Nickleman fights out again, though he quickly falls victim to an elbow that sends him to the floor. Crash jumps to the ring apron, but his feet are taken out from under him by Nickleman. Nickleman follows up with a vicious dropkick. ~

Hood: What is this, battle of the dropkicks?!

Smith: I am just impressed we are getting a wrestling match.

~ Back in the ring, Nickleman hits a snap suplex, and he follows up with a seated bear hug. Crash is able to make his way to his feet and elbow Nickleman in the face, breaking the hold, but Nickleman comes right back with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker that's good for a near fall. Nickleman slams Crash into the corner, and then hits repeated knife edge cops. Nickleman picks Crash up and slams him down to the mat, but he still can't keep Crash down for a three. Nickleman locks in a body scissors. ~

Smith: Nickleman is keeping Crash grounded and in control here.

Hood: It won't be long before Crash gets out of it.

~ Nickleman turns the submission into a rear chin lock, but Crash fights back up to his feet, working his way out of the submission. Crash ducks a clothesline from Nickleman and hits him with back to back clotheslines and a kick to the chest. Crash tries for a clothesline, but Nickleman ducks it and retaliates with a German suplex. ~

Hood: Bam!

Smith: Crash is in some pain from that suplex!

~ Nickleman stomps away at Crash in the corner, before dragging him out and hitting a side backbreaker. Nickleman locks in another rear chin lock, burying his knee in Crash's back for extra pressure. Crash is able to fight back, with chops and forearms. Both men go for a cross body block, and both men are down.

Hood: Now that's a belly to belly slam!

Smith: Clever.

~ Nickleman manages to get to his feet first. He walks over to Crash who's on his knee and Crash nails Nickleman in the gut with an elbow. Crash hits Nickleman with a jawbreaker and then clotheslines Nickleman down to the mat! Crash lands a few stomps on Nickleman and gets Nickleman to his feet. Crash whips Nickleman into the ropes again and tries for another clothesline, but Nickleman ducks. Nickleman goes into the opposite set of ropes, comes back, and nails Crash directly with a diving forearm to the head. Crash goes down, but comes back up. Nickleman lands a haymaker, staggering Crash. Nickleman comes back with lefts and rights and then throws Crash into the turnbuckle. He climbs the middle rope and starts to deliver lefts and rights again to Crash' head. The OCW Faithful count the punches. ~

OCW Faithful: 1! 2!! 3!!! 4!!!! 5!!!!! 6!!!!!! 7!!!!!!! 8!!!!!!!! 9!!!!!!!!! 10!!!!!!!!!!

~ Nickleman tosses Crash down to the mat. ~

Smith: The Faithful are loving this match.

Hood: I'm surprised The Nickleman isn't exhausted yet. Despite the fact he looks clearly out of shape, he's been keeping up.

~ Crash manages to get to his feet as Nickleman picks him up from behind. He hits a back-body drop, crashing Crash to the mat the water spraying up from the melted snow. Nickleman gets Crash up, but Crash tries to come back with a punch. Nickleman dodges and catches Crash in the mouth with a punch of his own. Crash fires back, but Nickleman blocks it and knees Crash in the stomach. Nickleman tries for a snap suplex, but before Nickleman can wrap Crash up Crash head butts Nickleman in the stomach. Crash tries an elbow to the head, but Nickleman ducks and grabs Crash by the arm, flipping him over and sending him to the mat. Crash gets up and goes after Nickleman, but Nickleman stands his ground and kicks Crash low. Nickleman gets Crash in a face lock, lifting Crash up only a little bit off the ground, and then dropping him down for a modified face plant. Nickleman hooks a leg. ~

1!

2!!

SHOULDER UP!

Smith: And Crash kicks out right after two. The OCW Faithful is loving the match so far, Hood.

Hood: Well then, they're dumb. BE VIOLENT LIKE THE BASTARDS YOU ARE!

~ Crash gets to his feet in the middle of the ring, and Nickleman is on the assault. Nickleman tries to kick Crash low again, but Crash blocks and sweeps Nickleman off his feet. Nickleman gets up immediately, only to be taken down with another fucking dropkick. Nickleman gets back up, but Crash is too quick as he lands a forearm shot to the back of Nickleman. Nickleman makes a last-ditch effort and rams his shoulder into Crash' stomach, driving him into the ropes. But Crash picks Nickleman up in power bomb fashion and drops Nickleman on his back showing his incredible strength to pick up that fat bastard (pun intended). Crash hooks a leg. ~

1!

2!!

3NO!!!! FOOT ON THE ROPE

Smith: What strength by The Crooked Man! I can't believe he was able to get Nickleman up and down like that!

Hood: Maybe Lou is pumping him with steroids.

~ Nickleman gets to one knee as Crash goes into the ropes. Crash tries a low dropkick, but Nickleman rolls out of the way. Crash ends up in a slide and gets to a knee. Nickleman comes at him and tries a knee to the face, but Crash blocks it and counters with a punch to the stomach. He tries for an uppercut, but Nickleman dodges it by stepping back and catches Crash with a sweeping kick. Crash hits the mat and Nickleman tries for a knee drop, but Crash dodges at the last second. He grabs Nickleman by the arm and lands a right hook on Nickleman' jaw. He does it again, and again, keeping Nickleman close to him. Nickleman breaks free and staggers back. Crash runs at him, but Nickleman catches him and flips him over the top rope and out of the ring landing hard on the mats that cover the awful hard clay/mud and rocky ground. ~

Smith: And Crash gets tossed out of the ring like a ragdoll on that unforgiving ground even with the matting!

Hood: He looks dead, Smith.

Smith: He's fine! He’s getting up!

~ Nickleman takes a breather as Crash regains himself on the outside. Nickleman gets to his feet, letting Crash put himself back together on the outside. ~

Hood: Why isn't Nickleman going after him?

Smith: Well, you saw Piledriver, he only has eyes for Bifford.

Hood: Well it’s hard not to see Bifford.

~ Crash gets into the ring. Crash nods at Nickleman and they go at it again. Crash gets the upper hand and nails Nickleman with a shot to the ribs. Nickleman comes back with a thrust kick, but Crash dodges it. He tries with his own kick, but Nickleman is quick to catch him with an elbow to the face. Crash staggers back and Nickleman takes Crash down with a fisherman's suplex. He covers. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Almost a three count. Crash got the shoulder up just in time.

Hood: No one is gonna win this fucking match.

~ Crash grabs his back, but gets immediately pulled up to his feet by Nickleman. Crash blocks a punch and swings around to Nickleman' back. He hits a big reverse DDT and wastes no time trying to win. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: ANOTHER CLOSE ONE!

Hood: It's getting exciting now and it’s about goddamn time!

~ Crash gets up to his feet and waits for Nickleman to get up. Nickleman gets up to his feet with help from the ropes. He turns around and Crash goes for the TOTAL LOSS! Nickleman dodges it at the last second and Crash slips by Nickleman. Nickleman puts Crash in a full-nelson, but Crash immediately nails Nickleman in the forehead with the back of his head. Crash turns around and locks his arms with Nickleman' arms and starts headbutting him!

OCW FAITHFUL: 1! 2!! 3!!! 4!!!! 5!!!!!

~ Crash puts in 5 solid headbutts, and is a little woozy himself. He shakes his head and then sends Nickleman into the ropes. Nickleman comes back and Crash kicks him the stomach, spins him around hooking his arms, and.......... ~

Smith: CRASH LANDING! THE CRASH LANDING! IT'S OVER!

Hood: Was that another tremor?

~ Scruff drops down for the pin. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: and your via pinfall and number one contender to the OCW Paradigm Championship...CRASH RODRIGUEZ!!!!!!!!!!!

~ Lou Pohl jumps up and down at ringside for client and friend as Crash helps up The Nickleman. He shakes his hand and Crash celebrates in the ring. ~

Smith: And Crash will take on the winner of Sahara and Donovan in the New Year, and you know Crash likes his odd’s if Sahara retains tonight.

Hood: WHEN, not IF, Smith. But yes, The Crooked Man would really like his chances, but he is a confident bastard, that Bastard. If by some tragedy Sahara doesn’t retain, he’ll still like his chances against Shane Donovan.

Smith: That is true. Up next the legend and OCW Hall of Famer, Scott Syren who earned the Craze title shot last month at the first ever Rumble in the Bronx takes on the undefeated champion, Harmon Egan.

Hood: It’s a Bastard studded night!

Smith: That it is.

~We cut to a local bar in Texas...somewhere. SOMEWHERE IN TEXAS. Lurrr and Dean appear with a bunch of rowdy, drunk locals cheering in the background. Dean gets them to quiet down~

Dean: QUIET SUCKAS! WE’RE LIVE!

Drunk Guy: I’M ALIVE!!!!

~Lurrr delivers THE WAKE UP CALL to the drunk guy, knocking him out. He nods for Dean to continue~

Dean: Hello OCW! Hope you’re all enjoying the end of the year Pay Per View extravaganza known as…

~Dean has to lean forward and squint to read the cue card and the name of this ppv~

Dean: Hardwired to Self Destruct. Wow, that’s a mouthful, sucka.

~Ohio St scores a Touchdown on the TV behind them. Lurrr curses saying something about how he just lost some money~

Dean: Anyway, we wanna wish all you suckas in OCW good luck tonight and a safe and happy new year! And, also, we want to remind all of you in OCW and those of you watching at home that the Dean and Lurrr era will return one week from tomorrow on January 9th at Monday Night Massacre LIVE from the OCW Arena in Key West!

~The fans go wild. Lurrr chugs his beer and gets another from the bartender, nodding at the camera~

Dean: Now Can You Dig that, SUCKA!!!

~The fans say his famous (stolen?) catchphrase along with him as we cut away back to the live PPV~

Gen Z, Amirite?

~We cut to prerecorded footage. The CN tower serves as the backdrop as a message comes from Toronto Ontario. Moonlight Rose appears on screen bundled up in a winter coat and her mask, which gets a positive reaction from the crowd. ~

Moonlight: How’s it going Faithful? M to the R appearing to tell you all about the future. Monday January 9th, yours truly will be taking on Harmon Egan one on one. With the ownership change and the multiple weeks since I issued the challenge it would have been very easy for him to forget about it. But he extended the opportunity with one condition. If he still possesses the Craze Championship by the date the title will be on the line. And while I don’t need extra pressure, I’ll take it. Now… there’s a chance he loses. There’s a chance Scott in his raise from the grave takes the title and IF that happens and that a big If. Harmon, we don’t need gas to light up the barn. We just need a spark… that is to say we don’t need to have a belt on the line to make magic… but it would be cool if it was. No pressure.

~Moonlight walks off screen as we fade to black.~

CRAZE CHAMPIONSHIP
HARMON “HARMONY” EGAN © (11-0) V.S. SCOTT SYREN (HALL OF FAME)

Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the OCW Craze Championship... Introducing first accompanied by Corey Smith, weighing in at 175 lbs and is the current OCW Craze Champion... HARMON “HARMONY” EGAN!!

~ A pair of black rimmed eyes open up on the OCWTron as the snow continues to fall onto the stands and ring bathing the area in white like it would be with lights if this were in an arena and the song starts its opening beats. When the song comes to its crescendo the OCWtron shows shots of Harmony in action intermixed with flowing Rorschach inkblots. Harmony appears under the OCWtron and books it to the ring, sliding in under the bottom room sliding in and holding his upper body up on outstretched arms and crawling to the camera at mat level. He shoots the camera a confident smirk and kips up to his feet, ready for action as Corey Smith takes his spot at ringside. ~

Smith: Big defence for Harmon Egan tonight! He beats Syren and he becomes one of, if not the greatest Craze Champions ever!

Hood: No doubt in my mind!

Belvedere: And the challenger...

~ “The Ecstasy of Gold” begins to play and the OCW Faithful are on their feet as the image of the legendary Scott Syren appears on the OCWTron as some crew members clear some snow off of it. ~

Belvedere: weighing in at two-hundred-and-seventy-five pounds and standing at six-foot-seven... he is a former OCW Champion and Hall of Fame member... he is... the one... the only... SCOTT SYREN!!!!!!!!

~ Scott Syren steps out from behind the curtain from Checkers Position and while a very bad man with a smelly championship belt made for him that spent years in the Atlantic Ocean, the OCW Faithful give the man his dues for all he’s accomplished. He walks down to the ring, looking at Harmon Egan who stares back at him, not fazed by who he is. ~

Smith: Harmon is not afraid of the legend that is Scott Syren.

Hood: Nor should he be, he’s a Bastard after all. They fear no one!

~ Belvedere leaves the ring as the water sprays off the steel steps from the heavy foot of Syren. Cuff calls for the bell. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Harmon and Syren meet each other in the middle of the ring and Syren takes the first swing. He barely misses as Harmon extends his leg and catches Syren in the stomach. Syren doubles over and Harmon takes him down with a snap DDT. Harmon goes into the ropes and springboards off for a moonsault, but Syren rolls out of the way. Harmon is to his feet, but Syren is quick to catch him with a dropkick. Syren gets Harmon up to his feet and sends him into the corner. He tries for a corner splash, but Harmon dodges at the last second. Harmon hits Syren with a knife edge chop. ~

OCW Faithful: WOOO!!

~ Harmon struggles to lift Syren up to the top rope but he does and gives Syren a few more chops to the chest. OCW Faithful responds accordingly, and Harmon climbs up to the middle rope. Harmon puts Syren in a front facelock and grabs the tights, lifting Syren up and over for a massive superplex sending the snow slowly building up around the ring on the apron up and off as the ring shakes violently as the OCW Faithful goes wild as does Corey Smith at ringside. Harmon makes a cover and Cuff drops to make the count. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: What a suplex off the top rope from Egan.

Hood: Good form on that one but no surprise there.

~ Harmon gets up to his feet, bringing Syren up with him. Harmon sends Syren into the ropes and tries for a body drop but Syren grabs Harmon by the head and slams him on his back. Harmon grabs his back for a moment, and then Syren lays down some boots to Harmon's chest and head. Syren goes into the ropes, but Harmon turns onto his stomach as Syren flies overhead. Syren goes into the other side, and Harmon gets to his feet. Harmon tries for a dropkick, but Syren sidesteps as Harmon hits the ground. Syren comes down with a huge elbow drop. He does it again, and then finishes it off with a knee drop to Harmon's forehead and Syren covers. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

Hood: That massive knee has to hurt.

Smith: Yeah, no shit.

Hood: Mark it, December 31st, 2022, Smith swore.

Smith: Shut up.

~ Harmon gets picked up to his feet and sent into the ropes by Syren. He comes back and tries for a cross body press, but Syren catches him. He smirks at the OCW Faithful, and leans back while throwing Harmon over his head for a huge release fall-away slam. Harmon hits the ground hard and slides up into the ropes from the wetness of the melted snow. Syren grabs him by his feet and drags him into the middle of the ring sliding easily. Syren goes into the ropes and comes down with an elbow drop. He tries for a second one, but Harmon moves out of the way just in time. He goes to his feet and connects with a roundhouse kick on Syren's jaw! Syren stumbles back into the ropes and Harmon delivers rights and left to the stomach and sides of Syren, focusing on his torso. Harmon gives Syren a hip toss to the mat and then springboards off the top turnbuckle with a corkscrew moonsault and connects. Harmon holds Syren together and Cuff hits the mat. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Both men are pulling out the stops, wanting to be victorious at the biggest event in Victoria Strader’s PPV history.

Hood: It only makes sense, Smith. I heard a rumour it’s her last event, think it’s true?

Smith: Well if President Dean is really back, I can’t imagine she wants to work for him nor would he want to employ her.

~ Egan brings Syren up to his feet and lashes out, nailing Syren with a shot to the chest. Egan bull-rushes Syren into the ropes, but Syren locks on with a headlock. Egan shoves Syren across the ring into the ropes, and Syren comes back with a shoulder tackle, taking down Egan. Syren goes into the ropes and comes down with another knee drop across Harmon's forehead. Syren lands a few stomps on Egan and then gets him to his feet. Syren grabs Egan by the head and slams him face-first into the turnbuckle. Egan staggers back, and Syren tries for a clothesline, but Egan ducks. Syren turns around and gets met with a painful kick to the face from Egan. Syren staggers back and then Egan takes him down to the mat with a dropkick. Egan grabs Syren's arm and drives his knees right into Syren's elbow. He does it again, and again, trying to weaken Scott's right arm. Egan quickly covers Scott. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Egan is going after Scott's right arm to continue his onslaught of the upper torso area.

Hood: Sound strategy, considering the immense upper body size and strength.

~ Egan gets Scott up to his feet, but Syren counters with an elbow to the gut, then a jawbreaker sending Egan back a few steps. Syren nails Egan with a running enziguri! Egan bounces off the ropes and falls to the mat. Syren goes for a cover. ~

1!

2!!

EGAN GRABS THE BOTTOM ROPE!

Smith: And Egan uses a rope break for Syren's pinfall attempt! Great ring awareness from the champ.

Hood: That’s why he’s the champ, and you aren’t.

Smith: Yeah, the only reason *eye roll*

~ Cuff separates the two allowing Egan to get to his feet. Syren charges at Egan, but Egan slides away and grabs Syren's ankle, tripping him up. Egan quickly drops an elbow on Syren's neck. He does it again, and then goes off the second rope and connects with a guillotine legdrop. Egan stomps Syren in the chest and backs up for a moment. Syren begins to move, and Egan hits Syren with another stomp and a stare. Syren gets back to his feet slowly, favouring his upper body. He cracks his neck and stares at the mute champion. Syren and Egan lock up, but Syren is quick to land an elbow to Egan's side. Syren follows it up with some hard knees to the stomach and hits a neckbreaker on Egan. Syren flies into the ropes and comes back with a body splash but you can tell he’s paying for that. He covers Egan again. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

Smith: Syren showing some vertical leap there with that high elevated body splash.

Hood: White men CAN jump, Smith. You racist bastard.

Smith: I hate you.

Hood: Because I am white? Racist.

~ Egan is to his feet. Syren checks him with a chop to the face, and follows it up with a left hook to the gut. Egan stumbles back and Syren tries for a running lariat, but Egan ducks underneath him. Syren turns around towards Egan and Egan comes at him with a side kick, but Syren catches Egan's foot. Egan tries for the enziguri, but Syren dodges. Egan crashes to the mat and Syren is right on him for another assault. He unchambers lefts and rights, hitting Egan in the chest and ribs, returning the upper body torment and then gets Egan to his feet. Syren takes him down with a quick hip toss, but Egan is to his feet. Syren spears him into the corner. Syren runs to the opposite corner. He raises his right arm for the Faithful and they give him a good pop. He charges towards Egan and tries for an elbow smash. ~

~ And misses. ~

~ Syren connects with the turnbuckle as Egan dodges at the last second. Egan wraps Syren up at the neck and head from behind and drops him to the mat with a reverse DDT. Egan gets to his feet and starts violently kicking Syren. Egan goes into the ropes and comes back with a high-elevation leg drop across Syren's throat. Syren grabs his throat in pain and Egan would shout at him if he could. Egan gets Syren to his feet and shoves him into the turnbuckle. Egan springboards off the middle rope, twisting in midair and extends his left leg toward Syren. Egan catches Syren in the jaw with his foot and Syren falls to the mat. Egan covers. ~

1!

2!!

SYREN’S TURN TO GRAB THE BOTTOM ROPE!!!

Hood: Man, those rope breaks are key tonight.

Smith: That they are. Tough to hold onto as the heat from the propane towers are melting the falling snow and making everything so wet.

Hood: That’s what she said.

~ Syren to his feet. Egan wants to mouth him off, but can’t you insensitive bastards so Corey Smith yells some trash form, but adrenaline fuels the legend andSyren takes him down with a vicious clothesline flipping Egan over. Syren grabs Egan's arm, pulls him back up and rushes toward the turnbuckle. Syren hits a tornado cross arm breaker on Egan. Still holding on to Egan's arm, he rings him up and attempts to kick Egan in the back of the head. Egan telegraphs it and ducks, grabbing his leg and taking him down to the mat. Egan is up and Syren gets to his feet. Egan kicks Syren low and uses Syren leverage to nail him with a single-arm DDT. Syren is a bit groggy now as he gets to his feet. Egan wraps his arms around Syren's head and then plants his own head under Syren's jaw. Egan quickly drops to his knees, hitting a huge jaw-breaker on Syren. He doesn't go for a cover, but flies into the ropes. He springboards off the middle rope, attempting a moonsault, which turns into a springboard double footstomp as he lands both feet on Syren's chest with both his feet! A quick cover. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ Syren cringes and begins to gasp for air. Egan is up to his feet. He lands a few stomps, and gets Syren up to his feet. Egan drags him over to the corner, accidentally giving Syren enough time to catch his breath. Syren slams his elbow into Egan's stomach and then hooks up Egan with a front facelock. He puts Egan's arm over his head and then cradles Egan's left leg. He hits Egan with a big-time fisherman's suplex. Syren hooks the leg. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ Syren is to his feet. Egan gets to a knee, but not before Syren slaps on a sleeper hold. Egan tries his hardest to fight it, but eventually falls to the mat. Cuff is down in Egan's face, asking if he wants to give up. Egan shakes his head, and tries to fight back with elbow shots to Syren. Syren just tightens the grip, and Egan's face begins to turn blue. Egan looks about three feet in front of him, and notices a bottom rope in close proximity. He reaches out, but he's a few inches away. He starts to muscle his way toward the rope as Syren tries to hold him back. He reaches it, and Cuff makes Syren break the hold.

Smith: Without ropes, this match would’ve been over 15 minutes ago.

Hood: Syren about had Egan choked out there. Can’t have a Bastard lose like that!

~ Egan starts coughing and gasping for air himself. Syren hits a soccer kick on him, and gets him to his feet. Syren sends him into the ropes and telegraphs a clothesline. He connects and sends Egan to the canvas, snow spraying up. Syren climbs to the top rope. He gets a cheap pop from the Faithful. Taking too much time to show boat a stronger tremor hits the drilling rig site for a few seconds and Syren is trying to maintain his balance the best he can as the OCW Faithful get their bearings, a few puking over the sides of the stands set up around the ring. ~

Hood: God those are unnerving!

Smith: I think Syren is gonna fall!

~ And Syren does just that coming down hard and landing awkwardly on his head. The faithful gasp as do the announcers. Corey Smith is yelling at Egan. ~

Corey Smith: Harmon! COVER HIM! HE’S OUT COLD!

~ Harmon looks at his manager and over to the fallen Scott Syren and crawls over, placing an arm over his chest and Cuff drops to make the three count, ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner via pinfall and STILL OCW CRAZE CHAMPION... HARMON EGAN!!!!!!!!!!!

Smith: And once again these little tremors from the ground have played a part in a match tonight! So unpredictable!

Hood: Look, here comes Knifey with Machete Phil and Eddy Bueger to get Syren out of here.

Smith: Hopefully he will be ok!

Hood: The important thing is that Harmon Egan is still Craze Champion.

Smith: You are a black hearted bastard.

Hood: Being racist. AGAIN!

~ Smith looks like he wants to cold-cock his broadcast partner but restrains himself as the Faithful watch on as Egan celebrates with his manager and the medic crew tend to Scott Syren. Harmon explodes up to the top turnbuckle slapping his chest and looking intense as his music lights up the outdoor stage. Corey Smith grabs his Craze Championship and as Harmon steps down from the turnbuckle Corey playfully jumps on Harmon from behind, slapping him on the chest and placing the title over his shoulder. Corey then wastes no time calling for a mic. He saunters up to the ropes and leans on them as he speaks.

Corey: So OCW universe, rumor has it that Harmon Egan just beat a former two time world champion.

~ The crowd pops HUGE. `

Corey: Rumor also has it that he has an absolutely unreal unbeaten steak of 12 and 0.

~ Another big time fan pop. Corey looks directly into the camera. ~

Corey: Rumor also has it that certain big wigs in the back are now shitting their pants because they are rapidly running out of excuses for Harmon not to receive a GODDAMN WORLD TITLE MATCH!

~ Corey shouts the last words, stomping away from the ropes and returning to Harmons side. ~

Corey: What's it gonna take? Huh? Humbling another Hall of Famer? Humbling Sahara Duke again? What the hell is it gonna take? Because as far as I'm concerned this is just getting asinine. There is absolutely NO ONE more deserving and more qualified to be running the main event scene. Hell, he already is! How many times has he main evented Massacre? How many times has he defended the Craze when he wasn't even forced to? Which is more than you can say for every other singles champion on the entire fucking roster!

~ Another monumental fan pop. Corey points to the crowd. ~

Corey: These people know.

~ And then he points at the camera. ~

Corey: And you know too. Guys. This is simple stuff. You have your star of 2023 right here. Just pull the damn trigger on giving him what he deserves already!

~ With that, Corey tosses the mic over his shoulder and hugs Harmon, clapping him on the back. Harmon then continues to play to the crowd a bit as his music flares back to life. ~

Smith: He makes a point, but the two longest unbeaten streaks of 2022 belong to two competitors related to our Commissioner fired shortly after FACE/OFF in October. Chances are a shot will come his way, but my bet is President Dean will make him earn it or PIC will just give him one.

Hood: Those two don’t matter anymore. 2022 ended with The Bastards and 2023 will be the YEAR OF BASTARDS! WOOOO!!!!

All She Wants Is A New Candle Now and Again

~We cut to the consultant trailers given to each member of the locker room, where we find Who're standing outside the one of Jacki O'Lantern, bundled up from the cold and light snow. She smiles before attempting to knock on the door. The door open up like magic and there is a giant pumpkin carriage with Jacki and her cats inside it across the way. Judging by the expression on Who're face she was not expecting that considering it couldn’t possibly fit in the trailer, but regardless of what she thought of the Tony Kahn logic she walked towards her. As she got closer, Jacki invited her into the carriage, in which Who're agreed, climbed inside and sat next to Jacki.~

Who’re: “Hi Jacki thanks for letting me chill inside here with you. Is it cool if I ask you some questions? I think everyone is curious to learn more about you.”

Jacki O’Lantern: “Sure, bud, fire away with those questions.”

~Jacki lets out a smirk, and leans back with her feet up, prepared to answer any questions she may have.~

Who’re: “Your name is recognizable by a lot of people in this business, so what made you decide to choose OCW as your next company to compete in?”

Jacki O’Lantern: “OCW has been on my radar for months. It was just a matter of waiting it out to see if I was ready, but this right here is the perfect timing. I've been putting the work in, and I know I only got one match under my belt, but pumpkin has got all the time in the world to collect more matches. There is also that mystery appeal of who will try to get on my good and bad side. Either way, I stay true to myself and I stick up for my beliefs.”

~Who're respectfully nodded her head over her answer. Before she could get into the next question, one of Jacki's cat's flew at the interviewer and settled into her lap. Both ladies laugh and proceed with the interview.~

Who’re: “Let's not forget you did pick up a victory in your debut match, with that in mind, is there anyone on the roster you would like to face off against next time? I understand you are still new here, but there has to be some talent you have your eye on.”

Jacki O’Lantern: “There is so much talent that it is hard to look past them. Talent like Sahara Duke, Crash, Charlie Nichols, and PIC. I know I'm nowhere near their level, but I am inspired to be there one day if I continue to get better in the ring now. In the meantime, I'd love to share the ring with any of those names mentioned. What an honor it would be.”

~Jacki smiled, picturing that thought in her head before focusing on the present time.~

Who’re: “It's great to have aspirations, and I'm sure we will see you against those names in no time. I'd like to switch up things and talk about your look. You got this Halloween theme going on with your pumpkins, and cats, which is rare to see. That being said, I want to know what inspired it all?”

~Who're turned to look at her only to find Jacki suddenly gone. In her place is a porcelain doll with a pumpkin head. She looked around, trying to figure out where she disappeared to. “Jacki?” She sighed, pick up the doll, and looked it over before putting it back in its place and holding it there as another tremor rolls through for a couple as the screen fades out on an unnerved Who’re.~

TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH
THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS (1-0) © V.S. HaVeN (0-0)

~ Belvedere stands in the ring, making sure his feet covered in Dunlop Rubber Non-Slip boots are planted firmly into the mat in case another tremor came through, after all, it did dump Scott Syren on his head. ~

Hood: I am excited for this one, Smith. We get to witness a murder!

Smith: A murder?

Hood: Them No Good Bastards are gonna murder HaVeN!

Belvedere: The following contest is Tag Team Match scheduled for one-fall and is for the OCW Tag Team Championships! Introducing first...

~ The entirely epic video of TNGB takes over the OCWTron as the light towers set up dim all around the people. Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the short pathway to the ring, hyped and ready to fight, pointing out into the crowd. Behind him, Bobby Bourbon deliberately walks out and stops, also pointing out into the crowd. Both men glance at each other and clink their Tag Team Championships together, then in unison point into the ring. The crowd sings along with the song. ~

OCW Faithful: ASSHOLE, DIRTBAG, NO GOOD BASTARDS!

~ TK slides into the ring and gets up onto a knee, beckoning the crowd as Bobby climbs the steps and enters the ring behind him. TK stands and appeals to the crowd as Bobby raises his arms at 45-degree angles. ~

Belvedere: And their opponents... weighing in at a combined weight of we don’t know because they didn’t tell us... coming from some shit-hole in OHIO... they are the OCW Tag Team Champions... THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS!!!

Hood: My boys are looking confident!

Smith: There is a fine line between arrogance and confidence, Hood.

Hood: Murder, redrum, Bastards sdrataB *shrugs*

Belvedere: and the challengers...

~ An uncomfortable laugh is heard as Joker begins playing. The women of Haven step out as a red hue entrance way only, the light escaping into the night sky that has stopped snowing for the time being. ~

Belvedere: Weighing in at a combined weight of two-hundred-thirty-pounds... they are... HaVeN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~ Phoenix leads Desdemona to the ring on a leash. The ladies walk up the steps as they enter the ring. Phoenix unleashes Desdemona as she makes it slowly to her feet. The two embrace one another as they stare down the Bastards across the ring. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: As the two teams settle and talk strategy, it appears that Them No Good Bastard’s Thunder Knuckles and HaVeN’s Desdemona will be starting the contest!

Smith: This should be a good one! FILLED WITH MURDER!

~ Knuckles and Desdemona each walk to the center of the ring, and Desdemona goes for a grapple, but Knuckles ducks underneath it then turns around and gets decked with a big right from Desdemona before getting the boots put to him shocking the Faithful but they do cheer along ‘cause they love the unpredictable. ~

Smith: Desdemona with a chinlock! So much for a murder! Hah!

Hood: It’s still early. Dick.

~ Kuckles breaks free of the chinlock and locks Desdemona into a standing wristlock, wrenching the hold in and then dropping Des to a knee knee. Knuckles delivers a pair of short roundhouse kicks to Desdemona's upper back, and then swings his free arm over Desdemona's shoulder to deliver a trio of back elbows to her face. Knuckles brings Desdemona up, and then whips her into the ropes. Desdemona holds onto the top rope as Knuckles goes for a leapfrog, and then charges, using the momentum to swing up under him lifting Knuckles up and then spinning down into a spine buster. That’s a use of momentum if this match writer even seen it. ~

OCW Faithful: AAAAAHHH!!

Hood: Desdemona with the advantage now! I think TK didn’t expect this from her!

~ Desdemona rises to her knees, quickly surveying the pain she has just wrought, and drops a headbutt into Knuckle’s face before making a cover, hooking both legs. Scruff drops for the count, and Bourbon steps into the ring. ~

1!

2!!

Smith: And Bourbon breaks it up by booting Desdemona in the head!

~ Scruff begins shouting at Bourbon to get back on the apron, to which Bobby just holds up his arms, nodding his head with a smirk. Knuckles reaches over and uppercut Desdemona from down low getting some good ol’stank on it. Desdemona bends backwards as TK steps back onto the apron, and Bourbon tags him in. Scruff slaps his hands to signify that he saw the tag, calling this bitch properly and Knuckle climbs up to the top as Bourbon gets on all four's behind Desdemona, who stands up straight from the uppercut. ~

Smith: And Knuckles with a huge clothlesline!

Hood: And that weird girl goes ass over kettle! Hah!

~ Knuckles jumps to his feet as Bourbon steps onto the apron, and drops to a knee, out stretching his arms to the crowd. ~

Hood: I think Bourbon is showing off too much here. Wait, look!

~ Knuckles boots Des in the midsection, and then grabs her in a loose front facelock, lifting her up and then dropping her gut across the top rope. Desdemona gasps for air as Scruff yells at Knuckles, who stalks back to the apron, ignoring all of Scruff's calls being a bastard and all. They do that. Des gets to her feet and comes over to Bourbon, grabbing him by the head, and then hits him with a big forearm smash to the upper back, bringing him flipping back into the ring.

Smith: Desdemona back in control of the flow now as he brings Bourbon to his feet. A whip to the corner, and Desdemona charges in. Big back elbow! ~

Hood: Man, Bourbon is gonna get any modeling jobs.

Smith: Modeling!?

Hood: You don’t subscribe to Bastard Weekly?

Smith: No, I don’t.

Hood: Missing out.

~ Knuckles watches as Bourbon brings the boots to Desdemona’s midsection. Knuckles claps a few times, and then reaches out for the tag as Scruff warns him not to enter the ring. Des trips up Bourbon and makes a quick dash to tag in Phoenix

Smith: Bourbon to his corner, and tags in Knuckles again.

~ Bourbon nods to Knuckles, who just steps out onto the apron as Bourbon comes in and grabs Phoenix turning her around in a half rear waistlock, and then nails a backdrop suplex that sends Phoenix rolling to the middle of the ring. Bourbon brings Phoenix back to her feet, and then nails a big right hand before sending her into the corner, following in closely with a running high knee to Phoenix’s face.

Hood: Damn! He’s gonna ruin that something face of hers!

Smith: Bourbon keeps Phoenix in the corner, and just PUMMELS her with rights and lefts.

~ Phoenix suddenly ducks a big right, grabbing Bourbon's legs, and then dices at his ankles dropping him face-first into the top turnbuckle, causing Bourbon to back up clutching his nose. Phoenix quickly nails a jumping uppercut, and then throws Bourbon into the corner, nailing him with a series of forearms, dropping him to a seat. ~

Smith: And Phoenix manages to turn the momentum, and she quickly turns to tag in Desdemona!

~ Desdemona and Phoenix both charge towards Bourbon in the corner, and nail simultaneous basement dropkicks to Bourbon's face. ~

Hood: Excellent tag double teaming! Not technically fair, but their opponents are known for that!

~ Scruff gets in Phoenix's face as Phoenix steps back out onto the apron, and Phoenix points to Desdemona and Bourbon as Desdemona lifts him up onto the second turnbuckle. ~

Smith: Desdemona goes up to the second with Bourbon.

~ Desdemona raises a fist to the crowd......and then leaps up and swings outwards with a bulldog-esque face plant but Bourbon shoves her forward off him, coming down on his knees. ~

Smith: Innovative Bulldog but Bourbon gets her off of him!

~ Desdemona lands on her knees, and then jumps to her feet. She charges towards Bourbon, who blocks a right and then knocks Desdemona back with one of his own. Bourbon stands up, and Desdemona turns around only to be scooped up onto Bourbon's shoulder. ~

Hood: Desdemona’s gonna get buried here!! Hell yeah!

~ Bourbon moves in for a running powerslam. Desdemona drops down behind the kneeling Bourbon before he can finish the move, and then delivers a pair of forearms to the back of Bourbon's head before hitting the ropes. Desdemona goes to rebound, but Knuckles nails her in the lower back with a kick, causing her to stop in her tracks and hold her kidneys. Desdemona turns around and swings at Knuckles with a right hand, allowing Bourbon to come up behind her and lock on a rear waistlock. ~

~ Desdemona with a standing switch, Bourbon blocks the German Suplex attempt with a pair of back elbows and besides, could she have lifted him? Guess we won’t know. Front facelock by Bourbon, vertical suplex and Desdemona crashes to the canvas! Bourbon starts choking Desdemona, forcing Scruff to yell for a break, and Phoenix begins to step in. Knuckles yells at Scruff about Phoenix, who turns to chase her out. With Scruff being distracted, Knuckles steps into the ring, and then drops a knee across the bridge of Desdemona's nose, breaking the hold. Knuckles begins stomping away on Desdemona's face before bringing her to her feet, locking her in a chokehold. ~

Smith: And Scruff should get his attention back in the game! He isn’t usually easily fooled.

~ Phoenix exits quickly, seeing her partner being double-teamed by Bourbon and Knuckles. Knuckles brings Desdemona to her feet, and nails a vicious knife-edge across her chest the fucking pervert, the slap echoing up the stands and out in the Drilling Rig site... Bourbon nails Desdemona with his own knife-edge, prompting Knuckles to retaliate with another one of his own.

Hood: Them No Good Bastards are giving Desdemona’s chest a whipping! MURDER!

~ Bourbon nails another knife-edge, and Phoenix has had enough, Phoenix goes and springboards off of the top rope, looking for a dropkick to both Bourbon and Knuckles, but they both step out of the way as Phoenix falls to the mat. Bourbon drops a leg across Phoenix's throat as Scruff turns his attention back to the ring. Knuckles smirks, seeing they can really end this, and then drops a leg of his own across Phoenix's throat. ~

Smith: And now they're trading leg drops to Phoenix's throat!

Hood: Like the Bastards they are. I love this.

~ Desdemona pulls herself up to her feet with the ropes, and then charges, nailing Knuckles in the back of the head with a diving clothesline, causing Knuckles to fall into Bourbon, headbutting him in the forehead in the process. Desdemona gets up, slapping her thigh, and then brings Knuckles to his feet, pummeling him with forearms and toe kicks. ~

Smith: And Desdemona has snapped! Can only take so much.

Hood: Shut up. I gotta take a leak, excuse me.

~ Desdemona locks Knuckles in a front facelock, draping his arm over her shoulder, and then lifts him up high. Desdemona's legs start to give out, but Phoenix gets to her feet, and then helps Desdemona hold Knuckles up straight. Desdemona nods, and Phoenix releases as Desdemona drops Knuckles to the mat with a powerslam variation. ~

Smith: Double Jackhammer by HaVeN! And now Desdemona hits the ropes!

~ Desdemona comes off the middle rope with a moonsault across Knuckles's torso as Bourbon slides in. ~

Hood: Bourbon sends her out with a big boot! That’s what I am talking about!

~ Phoenix kicks Bourbon in the back of the knee, hobbling him down, and then delivers a series of mid-level roundhouse kicks to his chest. Phoenix hits the ropes, and comes back with a huge, stiff enziguri to Bourbon's head. ~

Smith: HaVeN showing they aren’t pushovers!

~ Bourbon slumps down into the corner, his eyes glazed over, and Phoenix smiles her tongue cross-eyed thing. Knuckles stumbles to his feet behind Phoenix, Scruff finally giving in and letting the four duel it out, and then holds his hand out. Phoenix turns around, and Knuckles nails her with a vicious clothesline. ~

Hood: Short arm clothesline that turns Phoenix inside out!

~ Knuckles drops down for a cover. ~

1!

2!!

Smith: Desdemona breaks it up!

~ Desdemona measures Knuckles as he rises, and then lets loose with a sidekick that catches him square in the jaw. She puts her partner over Knuckles leaving the ring. ~

1!

2!!

~ Bourbon grabs Phoenix by her hair, bringing her to her feet and breaking up the pinfall. He turns Phoenix towards him, and wraps her up into an invertabreaker and drags his partner over her this time! ~

1!

2!!

~ Desdemona dives forward from her, breaking up the pinfall. Bourbon slaps the turnbuckle as TK shakes the cobwebs, grabbing Phoenix by her hair, and brings her up. Knuckles slaps Phoenix across the face, and Phoenix replies with a kick to his knee. Knuckles releases Phoenix's hair, and Phoenix nails him with a roundhouse kick to the ribs, followed by a rising knee and a downward elbow thrust to the top of Knuckle’s head. Knuckles falls to a seated position, dazed, and Phoenix drops to a knee, shaking out the cobwebs. ~

Smith: Phoenix had just enough to drop Knuckles, but can’t follow it up!

Hood: Here comes Bourbon! Phoenix sees him!

~ Phoenix catches Bourbon with a boot to the midsection, and then hits the ropes. Bourbon drops to a knee as Phoenix dives for a forearm, and then stands up quick, catching Phoenix in mid-dive with an Alabama Slam that shakes the ring upon impact. ~

Hood: SEE!! MURDER! Bourbon just took Phoenix Down South!!

Smith: And she bounces right back up with the tag to Desdemona!

~ Bourbon, shaken by the quick impacts of the match thus far, stands up, as Desdemona slips behind him. Bourbon turns around and Desdemona picks him up in a fireman's carry, one hand around Bourbon’s head and Knuckles tags himself in and rushes in to help. ~

Smith: What is she trying to do?! Watch out TK is coming in!!

~ Suddenly TK is there with the big boot, right into Desdemona’s face and he falls backwards, taking Knuckles with him and both crash into the corner! Meanwhile Bourbon spins, and as Phoenix uses the ropes to pull herself up, Bourbon runs and spears Phoenix through the ropes and both crash to the floor outside! ~

Hood: Bourbon made the save, and now has taken Phoenix out of the picture! Now Knuckles can put the owner out.

Smith: Owner?

Hood: Well, she holds the leash, right? That not how it works? Don’t cancel me, big guy!

~ Hood does spooky fingers like a ummmm a bad-guy would <_< >_> ^_^ to his broadcast partner. Knuckles, dazed from crashing down, rises up and pulls Desdemona to her feet. At this point, Scruff is trying to break up Bourbon and Phoenix who made their way back into the ring, trying to get them to their corners. Knuckles sees the opportunity and begins the throwing haymakers and elbows like a drunk redneck at a Kid Rock concert! Desdemona is blasted from the moves, her body taking blow after blow. As Knuckles begins to finish up the dirty-Ohio-combo, Phoenix breaks free of Bourbon and slides in, and when Knuckles goes for the double feet kick, Phoenix catches him with a reverse neck breaker! ~

Hood: How the hell did she do that!?

~ Phoenix is then pulled out of the ring by Bourbon and they fight at ringside again. In the ring, Desdemona gets on a Texas Cloverleaf! ~

Smith: This could be it!!!

Hood: He ain’t tapping to no woman.

~ Knuckles struggles, struggles with all his might not to give in to the painful submission move! Suddenly, Bourbon strikes, diving in and breaking the move. Bourbon lifts Desdemona up and powerbombs her, and as he does this, Phoenix slips back in and pulls Knuckles up and quickly puts him back down with the double arm-DDT! She then takes Bourbon over the top rope with a dive, again sending both to the floor hitting the oild field style barricade! ~

Smith: Desdemona just needs to cover! That’s all he has to do!

~ As Scruff gets into position, Desdemona slowly crawls over to Knuckles, and rolls onto her back, laying over Knuckles and pointing to the air as Scruff counts. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!!!

~ Suddenly Knuckles rolls, grabbing Desdemona’s arms with his free arm and legs into a crucifix like pin, locking Desdemona’s shoulders to the mat! Scruff scrambles to the new position to see, as Desdemona struggles! That sneaky fucking Bastard, eh?! ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING!!! ~

Hood: HAH! Love those bastards!

Belvedere: And your winners by pinfall... AND STILL OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS... REPRESENTING THE BROTHERHOOD OF BASTARDS... THEM NO GOOD BASTARDS!!!!!!!

Smith: HaVeN was doing so well, but that’s just a veteran ring presence from Them No Good Bastards.

Hood: Dare I say, they a PROUD and STRONG?

Smith: I guess you could say that.

Hood: Then I did. Hey, you know what I noticed?

Smith: *sigh* What did you notice?

Hood: No tremors this match!

Smith: Yeah, I guess you are right. They are extremely unnerving.

Maybe She Isn’t Quite The Bitch The Person “No One Liked” Said She Was

~ Victoria Strader sits at her desk in her personal trailer, two monitors in front of her, one where she is typing away and the other a broadcast out of the ring so she can watch the show. A knock comes to her door, and without turning her head she yells towards it. ~

Victoria Strader: Come in.

~ The Knife Man enters, knocking his boots at the door and makes sure it closes behind him. ~

TKM: You wanted to see me, Vee?

Victoria Strader: *swivelling around* Knifey! Yes, thanks for coming. Please have a seat.

~ Victoria motions to the big leather couch in the middle of the trailer, and she sits down beside him, with a wad of envelopes in her hand and places them off to the side away from The Knife Man. ~

Victoria Strader: First, I just wanted to say I thank you for not blurting out on Piledriver that I was leaving the company after tonight. I didn’t want to take away from the lead up, and you made that possible.

TKM: My pleasure. You know I am ally to your family.

Victoria Strader: I know. So after the show, I’m going to be leaving through the PORTAL to see my girlfriend, then I am heading home to care for my mom.

TKM: The PORTAL POTTY is here?!

Victoria Strader: No, no. I have a device that controls it, don’t worry. No, I just wanted to give you these to hand out to the crew and talent as you see them.

~ Victoria hands him the stack of envelopes. ~

Victoria Strader: When my grandfather died, he left me and Cara his estate. So, I am giving everyone, out of my pocket, not OCWs... I don’t need Dean blowing a gasket... I am giving everyone 15% worth of the money the company made this last quarter. You all did a great job, even the ones that hate me, and it’s my way of saying thank you for a memorable quarter.

TKM: Vee, I don’t know what to say.

~ She places a hand on his shoulder. ~

Victoria Strader: Don’t need to say anything that you will get them handed out.

~ Victoria gets up and heads back to her desk. TKM starts to say something but she just gives a him a smile, and he just nods leaving the trailer and her to her work. ~

PARADIGM CHAMPIONSHIP
SAHARA DUKE © (11-0) V.S. SHANE DONOVAN (5-1)

~ We are back at ringside and the Commissioner Victoria Strader has joined the commentary team, sitting in between Smith and Hood. ~

Smith: Up next is the OCW Paradigm Championship and we have the Commissioner here with us!

Hood: Yay...

Victoria Strader: Your enthusiasm is very touching, Hood. And yes, I have joined to watch my favourite champion defend that gorgeous championship title belt.

Belvedere: The following contest is the penultimate match of the evening. Scheduled for one-fall and is for the OCW Paradigm Championship!!!!!!!! Introducing first...

~ An eerie voice pipes through the speakers at the outside venue. ~

It seems strange that my life should end
In such a terrible place…

~ Fog rolls out from under the OCWTron, the heat of the effect makes the fog thicker with the cold weather. The random sounds of a radio tuning through various stations floats over the the area as bright white lights suddenly shine up from around the tron, bathing the entryway in an angelic glow. Slowly, white webbing begins to appear on the darkened tron as of a spider spinning it's web...

ADRENALIZE ME

~ As the hard-hitting beat of In This Moment’s ‘Adrenalize Me’ begins pumping the speakers attached to the stands vibrating through the people, The White Widow, Sahara Duke emerges through the ghostly fog... ~

Belvedere: Hailing from Chicago, Illinois weighing in at one-hundred-fifty-five pounds (yeah, in her bra!) she is the reigning undisputed OCW Paradigm Champion of the world... THE WHITE WIDOW SAHARA DUKE!!!!!!!!!!!

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

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

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

~ As the music continues to tell her tangled tale, she charges toward the ring and jump slides through the bottom rope, and perches herself atop the turnbuckle, looking towards the curtain as she hands the championship belt to Belvedere. ~

Victoria Strader: Well rested after her brutal contest with The Nickleman last month, my champion is ready to go.

Smith: Your champ, but are you leaving OCW?

Victoria Strader: I will address that near the end of the show, but for right now, Sahara Duke is who’s important.

Belvedere: And the challenger...

“I wanna be… a messiah… a king… a God in extension!”

~ The words blare over the PA system before the opening riffs of “God in Extension” by Jack Daw kick in and Shane Donovan steps from behind the curtain. He is clad in black tights with “MANMADEMONSTER” written down his left leg and “SOCIETY” written down the right, with a heavy knee brace over his tights on that leg as well as a black and white coat with a hood that is over his head. ~

Belvedere: Hailing for Norfolk, Virginia, weighing in at two-hundred-twenty-five pounds... he is the proclaimed “ManMadeMonster” ... the one... the only... SHANE DONOVAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~ Shane makes his way down the pathway as the song continues to play and snow sticks to his hood, taunting fans as he reaches the ring, circling it until he comes to the ring stairs and climbs up them, stepping between the top and middle ropes to enter. Once inside, he removes his jacket, handing it off to Belvedere before he turns his focus to the center of the ring to prepare for his match to begin staring at Sahara as she comes down to face him. ~

Smith: Both looking very intense and ready for battle and - - -

Victoria Strader: Hah, she just slapped the taste of his mouth!

~ Donovan slaps her back and Gruff calls for the bell! ~

~ DING DING DING ~

~ The two competitors take turns delivering slaps across the other’s face, each one growing in its impact and intensity. Paradigm Champion delivers a forearm to Shane’s face in place of another slap, and Donovan returns fire with one of his own. The two competitors trade forearms in the dead center of the ring, Donovan to Duke to Donovan to Duke to Donovan to Duke, until the Paradigm Champion ducks one of Donovan’s and takes him down with a quick fireman’s carry. ~

Victoria Strader: One of the things I told Sahara specifically in the weeks leading up to tonight was to watch out for Donovan, because he can take anybody – ANYBODY – to the mat at a moment’s notice.

Smith: Paradigm Champion with a chin lock, and Donovan reverses into a hammerlock.

~ Shane wrenches the hammerlock in before breaking it of her own volition, mushroomslapping (but with his hands, don’t need a sex crime live on PPV) the back of Sahara’s head with a few slaps. Duke rolls over onto her back and sits up as Donovan backs off, a big smirk plastered on his face. Duke kips up to her feet, impressive with her massive rack working against the gravitational pull, nodding, and the two competitors circle one another. ~

Smith: And just as Paradigm Champion can take anybody down, Donovan can infuriate anybody by getting away from them.

Victoria Strader: Collar-and-elbow tie up, and Donovan with the go-behind and a rear waistlock. Come on, Sahara!

Hood: A Strader cheering on a Duke, who knew?

~ Sahara reverses the rear waistlock into one of her own, and goes to lift Shane up for a German suplex. Shane hooks the Paradigm Champion’s leg with his own, and then breaks the rear waistlock, locking on a standing armbar. Duke goes to try to reverse it, but Donovan kicks her in the midsection just under the bewbs, dropping her to a knee. ~

Victoria Strader: Good scouting by Shane right here but it’s going to take a lot more than that to take down my Paradigm Champion.

Smith: Donovan with the full-arm dragon twist…

~ Sahara slaps her shoulder to help with the blood flow, and then rolls forward, untwisting her arm. She rises to her feet, grabbing Shane’s wrist, but Donovan hits her with a surprise headbutt before twisting her arm again, this time nailing a downward elbow onto Sahara’s triceps. Yes, she is more than boobs you fucking perverts. ~

Smith: And it looks like Donovan may have the early advantage here.

~ Just as Smith finishes his sentence, The White Widow cartwheels to untwist her arm, and then nails a kick to the upper thigh/groin area of Donovan, dropping him to a knee and breaking the standing armbar. Sahara hits the ropes and goes for a basement dropkick, but Donovan swats her away. She rises, ducks a high roundhouse kick, and then grabs Shane’s left leg from behind, tripping him down face-first to the mat before locking on an ankle lock. ~

Victoria Strader: And Sahara catches Donovan off-guard!

Smith: She grapevines the leg!

Hood: Make him tap and call you Daddy-Sahara!

~ Strader and Smith look over to head, right brows raised in disturbance. Donovan tries to fight out of the ankle lock, but Sahara locks her legs around Donovan’s, wrenching the hold in. Shane forces himself towards the ropes, grabbing the bottom rope. Gruff starts to count. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!

4!!!!

Smith: Sahara needs to be careful here, doesn’t want to lose her title this way!

Hood: DQ loss and title stays where it is. You should know this, Smithy-boy.

~ Sahara releases the leg grapevine and yanks Donovan out of the ropes, keeping her hold of Shane’s ankle. Sahara goes to tug Donovan back closer to the center of the ring, but Shane fights, managing to pull onto the canvas with both hands. Sahara tugs again, and Donovan releases one hand from the canvas, but lunges forward and quickly grabs a hold of the middle rope, switching both hands to it. Duke kicks Shane in the knee, and Donovan releases the middle rope as Sahara goes to tug him back again avoiding being told to break the hold showing tenacity. Shane quickly turns around, nailing a quick and sharp kick to Sahara’s knee, forcing her to release the hold. ~

Smith: Quick thinking there.

Victoria Strader: This is what I was telling Sahara about; Donovan doesn’t have quit in him and will fight till the end.

Smith: Absolutely.

Victoria Strader: I know my roster.

~ Shane rolls to his feet, backing into his corner. He shakes out his left foot, trying to regain feeling in his ankle as Sahara rubs her right knee. Shane nods, giving Sahara a golf clap. In response, Sahara takes a quick bow then flips him off, and the two circle one another again, Shane noticeably favoring his left leg as the Paradigm Champion hits her right knee a few times to keep the feeling in it. The OCW Faithful are loving the match. ~

Smith: And neither competitor is getting a true advantage in the opening minutes of this match.

Victoria Strader: I don’t think we’ll see either one trying anything too risky until much later. With the snow, the possible tremors, and you want to conserve your energy if you know your opponent has even a slight chance of being able to one-up you.

Hood: I really don’t think either would appreciate you saying that, Victoria.

Victoria Strader: Sahara might be arrogant but she knows what it’s like better than you ever would, Hood. And it’s Miss Strader to you. Smith, you can call me Vee.

~ Smith smiles widely at a pouting Hood. Shane and Sahara stare at each other from their respective corners. Sahara Duke wipes the snowflakes from her forehead. Duke and Donovan both come out of their corners, meeting barely a meter away from one another in the center of the ring. ~

Smith: They circle…collar and elbow tie up again…

~ Sahara nails a quick forearm to Donovan’s jaw, and then locks his left arm into a standing armbar. She twists it with a full-arm Dragon twist, and then drives her elbow into Shane’s. ~

Victoria Strader: A little reversal of fortunes already.

~ Shane rolls forward and reverses the full-arm Dragon twist into one of his own, nailing a quick kick to the back of Paradigm Champion’s knee, dropping her down to one. Donovan releases Duke’s arm, locking on a rear chinlock. The White Widow struggles for a few moments before turning around and reversing the chinlock into a hammerlock, but the “manmademonster” immediately fires off a rear elbow, breaking Sahara’s grip. ~

Smith: And it seems as though both competitors have been rather even thus far.

~ Shane locks Sahara into a side headlock and then takes her down to the mat, keeping the headlock applied. Both of Duke’s shoulders lay flat on the mat and Gruff drops to count. ~

1!

SHOULDER UP! ~ the Paradigm Champion gets a shoulder up, and Donovan wrenches the side headlock in a little more, his muscles flexed due to his grip. ~

Victoria Strader: Sound strategy here. It’s not often that Sahara is taken down to the mat by somebody, so Shane has been scouting her.

~ Sahara puts both of her shoulders down on the mat again and Gruff is there to count. ~

1!

~ Her legs come up from the mat, wrapping around Donovan’s head.

2!

Smith: And Sahara Duke breaks the hold and turns it into a headscissors!

Hood: Lucky bastard.

~ Victoria and Smith shake their heads. Donovan immediately gets a hand between his neck and Sahara’s thigh as Duke sits up, looking for a bit of leverage. ~

Victoria Strader: See his hand in there?

Hood: Yeah.

Victoria Strader: That’s Donovan’s way of making sure that the blood still flows through his carotid artery. Holds like this, as well as all of the sleeper variations, don’t cut off oxygen flow to the lungs, they cut off blood flow to the brain.

Hood: How do you know that?

Smith: Vee is a third AND fourth generation wrestler.

~ Vee nods and pats Smith on the shoulder as Hood grumbles to himself as he looks to be using one of his piss-bottles grossing out the others. Sahara falls back once to give Donovan’s head a quick jerk, sitting back up immediately. She falls back again, and Shane turns his body once more, standing up on his feet so that he somewhat resembles an ostrich with its head in the sand. He does a headstand, and Duke delivers a quick jab to both sets of Shane’s ribs with both of her hands. ~

Smith: Sahara blocks the reversal attempt.

~ Donovan does another headstand, and Sahara meets him with the same pair of quick jabs to the ribs, sending him back to his feet.

Victoria Strader: Don’t go to the well too many times, Donovan. Sahara’s not going to be tricked that easily.

~ Shane does another headstand, this time letting his momentum carry him over on top of Sahara, forcing both of the Paradigm Champion’s shoulders to the mat. ~

1!

2!!

NO!

~ Sahara Duke releases her headscissors hold and twists her body around, placing Shane’s shoulders down with a crucifix-style pin reversing it. ~

1!

2!!

NO!!!

~ Shane kicks out and rolls backwards immediately to his feet, leaping forward and catching Sahara with an Oklahoma Roll. ~

1!

2!!

NO!!!! ~ Duke reverses it into a basic lateral press, quickly hooking both of Shane’s legs into something resembling an inside cradle. ~

1!

2!!

NO!!!!

~ Donovan reverses the pseudo-inside cradle into one of his own. ~

1!

2!!

KICK OUT!!!!

~ Sahara rolls away from Shane, kipping up to her feet. Donovan rises to a knee, his eyes not leaving the White Widow’s. The two competitors glare at each other as Donovan rises to his feet, his fists up as Sahara crouches down, one fist clenched and her other hand open, ready to either strike or grapple. The OCW Faithful applaud as neither competitor moves from their most recent positions, Shane in the center of the ring and Sahara in a neutral corner as a dual chant starts up.

OCW Faithful: SA-HAR-A!!

OCW Faithful: DON-O-VAN!!

OCW Faithful: SA-HAR-A!!

OCW Faithful: DON-O-VAN!!

Hood: And this audience seems to be split right down the middle, just like most crowds nowadays.

Victoria Strader: The Faithful split because they actually know who these competitors are, not just because they want to sound cool. They respect talent and that’s what makes the greatest fans on the planet.

Hood: I’ll at least give them that.

Smith: Donovan comes back to his feet as Sahara Duke takes a few steps out of the corner.

~ Shane connects with a low roundhouse kick to Sahara’s left knee, and Duke fires off one of her own. Both competitors quickly hop away from the other before taking a step back in, their stances unchanged. ~

Smith: Another trade-off of kicks…but Shane explodes with elbows and forearms!

~ Donovan forces Sahara back into the corner, nailing a quick succession of downward elbows and forearms before locking Duke in a clinch and striking her with knees. Sahara covers up, softening the majority of the shots, and Donovan delivers a quick European uppercut, stunning the Paradigm Champion in the corner. Donovan grabs Sahara’s wrist and then whips her across the ring into the other corner, charging in and connecting a huge body splash. ~

Smith: And all of the air in Sahara’s lungs has just been forced out!

Hood: Despite her glorious rack!

~ Shane nails another pair of forearms to Sahara’s face, and then whips her back across to the other corner. Shane holds up a single finger, nodding, and then charges in again for another corner body splash. ~

Victoria Strader: And Sahara rolls out of the way!

~ Shane crashes sternum-first into the top turnbuckle, and he turns, stunned and gasping for breath. Duke surprises him with a boot to the chest, using Shane as a springboard to backflip hitting a shining wizard.

Smith: Beautiful Shining Wizard!

Hood: All her moves are beautiful.

Victoria Strader: Even though it’s a basic move most wrestlers use, including myself, it’s been one of Paradigm Champion’s signature moves for years and she executes like no other.

Hood: She executes everything like no other.

Victoria Strader: Everything has to be turned to gross fanboy fapping with you and Duke. Now shut your mouth and do your job.

Smith: Thank you, Vee!

~ After connecting with the Shining Wizard, Sahara crouches, readying herself for another attack. The impact stuns Donovan, and he stumbles out of the corner, gasping for air. Sahara quickly leaps up onto the top turnbuckle, not something she normally does, turning her back to Shane, and dives backwards, catching him with a beautiful rewind hurricanrana. ~

Smith: Wow!!

~ Sahara holds onto Shane’s legs, leaning forward as she uses her boob weight to force his shoulders to the mat. ~

1!

2!!

3NOKICKOUT!!!!

~ Donovan rolls onto his stomach as Sahara Duke rises to her feet, flabbergasted that the high-risk move she doesn’t tend to do didn’t get a 3-count. Sahara looks down at Shane, and then stomps him in the back of the head. ~

Hood: Yeah, kick him when he is down, champ!

~ Shane rises to a knee in the ring, rubbing the back of his head, and then stands up, raising both eyebrows as he admits his surprise. He turns as Duke grabs his arm, pulling him for a vicious short-arm lariat that sends Shane down to the mat hard, the wetness splashing up from the melted snow. ~

Smith: Springboard back elbow!

1!

2!!

SHOULDER UP!!! ~ Sahara moves quickly and drops a knee into Donovan’s midsection, and then another to Donovan’s left arm. Shane flinches and sits up, but Duke shoves him back down to the canvas, nailing another knee onto his left arm. ~

Victoria Strader: Sahara is smartly looking for any sort of advantage she can get here. She knows she’s got a hell of a war ahead of her, so searching for any possible chinks in the proverbial armor is a great strategy especially when she wants to retain and have a legendary run as the Paradigm Champion. Smith: Let’s not forget that she could be making those chinks in the armor as she looks for them.

Victoria Strader: Solid point, Smith. It has been nice having you back.

~ Shane strikes back with a quick jab to the champs throat, and she falls down on her ass. ~

Smith: Donovan with a mean jab to the throat.

~ Shane lifts Sahara up, snap suplex onto the canvas before he lifts HER back up and nails a snap mare to the Paradigm Champion. Shane isn't finished though, he is going to put Sahara away for good and lifts her to the top turnbuckle, climbing up after her. Shane leaps off with a DDT from the top turnbuckle!

Smith: That Top Rope DDT shook the damn ring!

Hood: Donovan going for the cover, blah blah blah. Sahara is fine. I hope.

1!

2!!

3

NOOO!!! FOOT ON THE ROPE!

Hood: That is the mark of a true champion right there in Sahara Duke! Told ya, Smith!

~ Shane is beginning to get a bit frustrated then he whips Sahara into the ropes. Sahara ducks under the clothesline, Donovan with an arm drag. Sahara counters with a spin and takes Donovan down to allow his face to collide with her knee with a solid connection! ~

Hood: Sahara with an unorthadox counter, however it is highly effective!

~ Both competitors lay there for a few seconds as Cuff threatens to count both make it up to their feet simultaneously. Sahara and Donovan with a collar and elbow lock up, Donovan with a hammerlock. Sahara runs up the corner, Donovan coming with her allowing Sahara to flip over Donovan and catch him with an inverted facelock into an inverted DDT! But wait, Donovan counters with a shove sending Sahara into the ropes to prevent the inverted DDT! Sahara off the ropes, Donovan with a back body sends Sahara up and over the top rope. NO! WAIT! Sahara lands precariously on the top rope leaping out to land THE WIDOWMAKER on Donovan’s face square and centre! ~

Hood: What a superman Punch!

Smith: Sahara with great ring awareness!

~ Sahara heads to the top rope signaling for the VENOM DROP (Coup De Grace) and she lands it, falling back on-top of Donovan’s chest!!!!! ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Victoria Strader: Well look at that, wins the belt without help and a successful defence without any help. She just proved she’s gonna be the future of this company and everyone should remember I said it back then, and I am saying it again!

Smith: Well, can’t argue with that.

Hood: Good call, boss!

Smith: I apologize for him, he doesn’t know where his nose, and anyone in charges ass begins.

Victoria Strader: I know. He’ll be Dean’s problem soon enough.

Hood: I’m sitting right here.

Smith: One could only you weren’t.

Victoria Strader: On that note, I have work to do in the back. Keep up the good work. You too, Hood.

Smith: Well Hood, the wait is almost over. It’s OCW Championship and an OCW Career on the line next, in our triple threat main event!

STRAIGHT OUTTA DJIBOUTI FOR 231 DAYS

~ ~The scene cuts to one of the fancy consultant trailers management brought in for the talent, everyone getting their own. This particular is black out except for a lone spotlight illuminates the world champion, clad in all black ring gear with orange and blue accents. He sits with his head facing the ground and his hands clasped in front. Without acknowledging the camera he begins to speak.~

PIC: 231… that’s the number of days that have passed since Marcus Welsh pulled me from missionary work in the fields of Djibouti and brought me back to a world of destruction and carnage. There wasn’t a single person on earth, myself included, that thought success would come this quickly, but here I sit as your OCW World Champion… the pinnacle of our sport.

~PIC lifts his head and stares into the camera, his face stoic as he delivers his message with purpose. ~

PIC: Bifford, 231 days ago I came back to an OCW with you as its champion. The ambassador of the company, hiding behind a wall of lies and deceit who seemingly had no rival. That day, Bifford, I made a promise to myself. No matter what I did, no matter the setbacks or failures, the wins or losses… no matter what it would take… I’d stand across the ring from you and stop the lies. You want to claim that wrestler of the year title so badly, but the facts are while you were off celebrating your loss to Kali and Silverfreak’s involvement, I was here day in and day out carrying this company on my back. The OCW title has never held more prestige than it does this very instant, and after tonight, after I defeat both you and Mike Zybala in one single match, I’ll enter 2023 as not only the OCW champion, but the TRUE wrestler of the year. That you can count on… that is a promise!

OCW CHAMPIONSHIP TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
PIC STEVE WILSON © (20-4) V.S. THE BIG BIFFORD (21-3) V.S. “DREAMWEAVER” MIKE ZYBALA (31-18)

Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the main event of the evening and is triple threat match for the OCW CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!! Introducing first...

~The intro to "Raise Your Hands" by Bon Jovi begins to play over the outdoor speakers system as the crowd erupts in cheers.~

Belvedere: Now making his way to the ring, originally from Charleston, South Carolina and weighing in at 232 pounds... He is your OCW CHAMPION... PIC!!!

~The crowd jumps to their feet and begin to dance and sing along as PIC runs out onto the ramp.~

You, you got a nasty reputation
We're in a sticky situation
It's down to me and you
So tell me, is it true?
They say there ain't nobody better
Well, now that we're together
Show me what you can do
You're under the gun, out on the run
Gonna set the night on fire
Out on the run, under the gun
Playin' to win

RAISE YOUR HANDS! when you wanna let it go
RAISE YOUR HANDS! when you wanna let a feeling show
RAISE YOUR HANDS! from new york to chicago
RAISE YOUR HANDS! new jersey to tokyo

WOOOOOAAAAAHHHH!!!!

RAISE YOUR HANDS!

~PIC joins them in singing the verse, then thrusts his first in the air as the first "Raise Your Hands" hits. He then sprints to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and into the middle of the ring, where he drops to one knee and gives a double gun salute. He takes a moment to himself, then stands and removes his vest and the OCW Championship belt and hands them to Puff.~

Smith: PIC is looking confident.

Hood: He beat Outcast and ended that career. Now he’s looking to do it to Zybala. I don’t care who wins as long as it isn’t Mike!

Smith: You are such a dick.

Belvedere: Introducing next... weighing in at over 450 lbs hailing from the Buckeye State Columbus, Ohio... he is a former TWO-TIME OCW Champion and OCW Hall of Famer... he totally didn’t serve homeless people as quality chicken sandwiches... THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!!!!!!!

~ “Champion” by Barns Courtney starts to play as The Big Bifford makes his way, slowly, to the ring, climbing in the ring pushing the top rope down. ~

Smith: I never envy anyone facing the Big Bifford.

Hood: It’s always funny. You weren’t here but he sat on Veronica Strader’s head, injuring her and she never wrestled again.

Smith: Here.

Hood: Same shit, OCW is the only company that matters.

Belvedere: And his opponent...

~ “Ready to Die – Andrew WK” starts to play and the fans cheer loudly as Zybala comes out and does some standing superkicks which the Faithful adore. They are given free drugs, don’t judge them harshly. ~

Belvedere: Hailing from Buffalo, New York weighing in at one-hundred-seventy-five pounds... his career is on the line if he doesn’t win tonight... He is the “DREAMWEAVER” ... MIKE ZYBALA!!!!!

~ Zybala makes his way down and saying hello to Belvedere telling him to have a happy new year as he stares down the Big Bifford and PIC, looking focused like he did last year in the Icicle Death Match against former OCW Champion, the late and great Outcast. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

~ All three are in the ring with the monster Bifford towering over his opponents as usual. PIC dives at Biff's legs as Mike goes after the midsection. PIC clips Biff's knees, but Zybala is shoved backwards as Bifford falls down to the mat holding at his leg with one hand. PIC drops a knee on the fat opponent quickly trying to incapacitate him. Zybala is getting back up and PIC charges at his rising form sending him outside of the ring with a spear. He spins around quickly and Bifford is there with a right hand that staggers PIC into the ropes. Irish whip sends PIC running across the ring; a big boot from Biff sends him down to the canvas. Bifford makes a quick cover. ~

1!

SHOULDER UP!

~ PIC quickly rolls back up to his feet. He throws a wild right hand into Biff's temple that sends him rolling off of him to lay on his back, the ring shaking on impact. PIC kips up to hs feet, but Biff is already on his knees. PIC with a right hand and Biff with a meaty right hand as well, Biff wins the short fist battle as PIC falls back on him ass from the force of the blow. Bifford stands up tall in the ring and stalks over to where PIC is struggling up to his feet to meet Bifford head on. Zybala leaps from the top turnbuckle taking Bifford down with a flying crossboddy. PIC is thankful and shows him appreciation by shoving him knee into Zybala's jaw rolling him over onto his back. All is fair in top title matches. ~

Smith: This match is under way and already shows signs of being the best match here tonight.

Hood: The Bastard wins and Sahara’s might disagree but the potential of no more Zybala... what a beautiful dream.

~ Bifford is getting back up and so is PIC, these two are wanting to finish what they started almost a week ago during the press conference aired on Piledriver. Zybala gets up, his cheek red from the contact with PIC's knee. Dropkick to Biff's leg sends him howling in pain, and Zybala has once again taken down the biggest man in OCW. He rolls up quickly to face PIC and PIC and Zybala stare at each other. PIC wants his title and Zybala wants to keep his career. Right hand from Mike, right from PIC, and these two are brawling like they are back in high school. PIC with a big haymaker, Mike ducks under with an arm bar both go down to the canvas. Bifford lands a big leg drop on the two of them and the hold is broken up. He pulls PIC to his feet, by the hair on his head, and whips him into the ropes; he does the same to Zybala. PIC leap frogs Zybala, but Bifford catches him in the mouth with another big boot. Zybala rebounds and is scoop slammed to the canvas by Bifford. Bifford makes a cover.

1!

2!!

SHOULDER UP! ~ Zybala able to get his shoulder up just in time. Bifford isn't happy as he pulls Zybala up to his feet and holds him by the throat. Right hand from Biff sends a glazed look into the Dreamweaver’s eyes. A second sends him to Dreamland, but Biff isn't finished as he sends another into the side of Zybala's face. He heaves Zybala up over his head in a gorilla press slam position and is near the ropes; but PIC dropkicks him in the back. Zybala falls over the top rope to the outside, hitting the side of the oilfield barriers set up around the ring and Bifford is nearly topples over the top rope as well. PIC with a running knee lift nearly sends him over again, but the big man manages to keep his balance. He spins around, but is caught in the face by a running Enziguri that gets the job done and Bifford is sent over the top rope and the people aren’t sure if they felt another tremor or if that was Biff’s weight hitting and sending out vibrations. ~

Smith: No man gaining a definitive advantage~

Hood: As long as Mike loses.

~ PIC hits the ropes, rebounds, and tosses himself over the top rope to the now kneeling Biff that sends him all of the way down on his back. PIC begins to pound him fists into Biff's temple, doing his best to damage the big ex-husband of Martha Stewart. Zybala with a boot to the side of PIC's face sends him rolling off of Biff and he looks up at him with disbelief that he would do something like that. He shoots back to him feet though diving at him, him fists flying, but Mike uses his momentum to nail a DDT on the matting, snow and hard ¾ frozen clay/mud; PIC lays face first on the thin material. Zybala turns around right into the path of an oncoming doube arm axe-handle and is unable to avoid its path and crumples down to the ground. Bifford brings the ax-handle on PIC and once again Zybala is forgotten about in this match. Biff lifts the nearly unconscious PIC up slamming him face first into the ring apron once, twice, and a lifted third attempt busts him open a bit and blood trickles down him forehead. ~

Smith: Biff has drawn first blood and the champ is bleeding!

Hood: Make Zyabala bleed big man!

~ Biff is spun around by the forgotten Zybala and a boot to his midsection reminds Biff quickly of the current OCW Minority Owner. Zybala takes a steel chair from the under the ring remembering Victoria’s words “anything goes, but pin has to be in the ring”, places it on his knee, and lifts it forcefully into Bifford's face. Biff is rocked back into a double foot stomp by PIC and Biff is in the middle of two warriors with nowhere to go. Zybala swings the chair, Biff falls on the matting, the chair connects with PIC and he falls flat on him back. Biff with a low blow gives him the advantage back as Mike drops the chair in favour of his bleu cheese filled testicles. Bifford with a clothesline sends Zybala down as well. Bifford picks up the steel chair and grabs another forcing Belvedere out of his seat. He lays them side by side on the matting. ~

Smith: what is he planning to do here?

Hood: My guess? Quality Chair Sandwich. Hah! See what I did there?

Smith: WEAK ASS COMMENTARY.

~ He pulls Zybala up by the throat and while squeezing, does the same to PIC. He laughs before slamming their heads together and lifting them both high up over his head and saying “MY SHOES”. Bifford turns facing the two steel chairs and drops them onto the steel. The sound of their flesh smacking on the steel is sickening, but the OCW Faithful seem to enjoy it. He pulls Zybala up to a gorilla press slam position and drops him throat first across the ring area barrier, the hard steel used in the oil patch, that is there to protect the ground from spills, but tonight it’s the crowd. PIC is still lying there motionless and Bifford pulls him up to him feet as well, but tosses him like a rag doll into the barrier’s corner where his head slams on top of the corner. ~

SMACK!!!!

Smith: Did you hear that? That had to hurt.

Smith: Someone is smiling somewhere because I refuse to believe everyone likes PIC.

~ Clutching at his throat, the resilient Zybala picks up one of the dented steel chairs slamming it on the back of the big Bifford. Biff arches his back a little and turns to face the red faced Zybala. A right hand from Bifford slams into the oncoming Zybala steel chair and the big man felt that blow just right. He shakes his hand in pain, but Zybala slams the chair into his midsection top first and Biff is doubled over. The steel chair comes down on Bifford's back sending him down to one knee. DDT on the chair takes Bifford out of the match, temporarily. PIC once again thanks Zybala, but this time the steel chair does the actual talking as it comes across the forehead of Zybala sending him down to the matting. He pulls him up and rolls him into the ring following after. Irish whip into the ropes sends the Outsiders owner running and a running high knee to his head sends him falling. PIC hooks the leg and makes a cover. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ Mike wants his career a little longer. ~

Smith: Zybala taking a lot of punishment to his head here.

Hood: Something you two have in common.

~ PIC is obviously frustrated but he is enough of a veteran to keep it under control. As he gets up to his feet, he drags Zybala with him delivering a forearm into his jaw that rocks his head to the side. Shove back sends Mike back first into the corner and a running shoulder block sends him doubling over at the waist to catch his breath. PIC with a European uppercut stands the Dreamweaver back up and PIC places a hand on his chest throwing knife edge chops getting the desired reaction from the crowd. ~

OCW Faithful: WOOOO!

~ The chest of Zybala is red and angry looking from the chops as his shirt is ripped and ruined. But then again, Bifford walks like he is mad as he grabs PIC from behind with a hand on his neck as all the bouncing around in the ring covered the fact the big bastard was back inside the ring. He shoves his head into the head of Zybala before slamming him face first on the canvas. He pounds a fist into Zybala's chest before pounding a meaty left and right combo into his face. Biff backs up delivering a big boot into Mike's face that should have knocked him to the canvas, but Bifford catches him by his chin. He holds him up pounding away at his face again with big time right hands and appears to be having a good time doing just this. Zybala is looking the worse for wear here on this exchange. ~

Smith: Come on, this isn't right.

Hood: Might I ask, what is wrong about it?

Smith: It’s just insult to injury.

Hood: Again, what is wrong about it?

~ Bifford pulls Zybala's head down into his lifted knee and the former tag champ is out cold on his feet. Bifford tosses him to the side as well and begins to untie the turnbuckle padding. He leaves it hanging there loosely and turns around. PIC with a leg sweep sends Biff falling backwards on the loosened turnbuckle padding, but it does not fall off. PIC with a running high knee to Bifford in the corner, but Bifford ducks and PIC crotches himself on the top. Bifford laughs and PIC shoots up to him feet and points to his crotch he mouths "No balls" and leaps with a missile dropkick sending Bifford backwards into a hook and a pin from Zybala. ~

1!

2!!

NO!!!!

~ Bifford manages to kick out but he is angry sending Zybala over the top rope with all his strength. Zybala gets up ready for a fight from Biff, albeit, down on the ground and Bifford follows him. PIC joins the party and shoves Zybala forward into Bifford who slams his head forward to meet the oncoming Zybala right down on top of his head. Their heads collide, but only Zybala falls, Biff merely shakes his head before turning to find PIC diving with a forearm smash. It catches Biff off guard and he is sent on his back with the force, falling ass over tea kettle over the barrier in between the stands PIC screams out in triumph, leaping up over the barrier and slams his boots into the side of Bifford’s face again and again. He grabs the hair of The Big Bifford and peppers him with rights and lefts, mixing in a few forearm shots for good measure before using all his might to throw him into the propane heater keeping the Faithful warm and it falls to the ground, flames shooting out the top melting the snow. ~

Smith: It’s spilling out past the stands now, but they need to remember the pinfall must happen in the ring.

Hood: Looks like it’s getting more personal than anything now. Puff must be happy if they spill out that way. He can just sit and wait for them to return.

~ Zybala makes his presence felt as he comes running up behind PIC and levels him with a huge bulldog, sending the champ face first into the snow-covered clay-based ground. The Propane kill switch comes into play as the heating tower goes out just before PIC’s face landed near it. Zybala picks Wilson up by the hair and drags towards the drilling rig that has sat dormant. To their left, off to the side of Drilling Rig floor is a unit called the doghouse where the driller controls the drilling efforts. Mike starts to drag up the forty steps to the doghouse entrance when PIC sends an elbow up into Zybala’s side. Mike grunts but fires back with a forearm to the head, but PIC ducks barely, and hits him with a European uppercut, sending Mike up a few steps. Zybala tries to superkick PIC who got up ahead of him but PIC just pushes the leg down, grapples him into a suplex, and suplexes Zybala up the stairs, hitting the door causing it to swing open. ~

Smith: They have forgotten about Bifford and have moved up into what’s called the Doghouse there up on the drilling rig, our camera man are scrambling!

Hood: Look at the OCWtron, seems there’s a camera already in the Doghouse. Seems like Strader prepared for this possibility. I am surprised it took this long for a match to head this way.

Smith: For once you are right, Hood.

~ PIC gets up, holding his back, sacrificing his own body landing on the unforgiving steel steps. Upon entering the room, the crowd and commentators now staring up at the OCWtron to watch the action, although some brave members of the Faithful are heading towards the rig, PIC is grabbed by Zybala and tossed across the white steel room, hitting a bench in the middle of the first section that is filled with lockers where the rig crew would get ready and PIC winces. Zybala keeps on the attack, a fire in his eye, and pulls PIC back up, taking him over to a door that leads into the second section of the doghouse where all the instrument panels are that control the Top Drive that hammers the pipe and drill bet down the hole into the well through the centre of the drilling rig floor. Zyabala goes to slam him head first into the door, but PIC blocks it, kicks the door open, smashes Mike with a solid right forearm shot. He grabs Mike by the back of his pants, and heaves as hard as he can sending Zybala into the computer systems. ~

ROARRRRRRRRRRR-GRGRGRGRGRGRGR

~ The Top drive comes to life and begins moving up and down bringing the rig to life. PIC looks at the control panel with a “ohh shit” look on his face but it disappears quickly as Zybala spears PIC back into the locker area of the doghouse, and kicks open the door to the drilling rig floor, where the top drive moves the pipe up and down, the grinding sound echoing out over the lease site, which has Smith and Hood with raised voices. ~

Smith: From my research, the yellow piece of machinery is in the weight neighbourhood of over one tonne.

Hood: Like Bifford.

Smith: That’s rude. Anyway, it’s commonly called the Big Yellow Schoolbus by rig workers and - - - hey, wait, where is Bifford?

~ The cameras pan around, and no Bifford. Back up on the OCWtron, it appears another camera is catching a view of the entire rig floor facing the Doghouse door to get out onto it. Off to either side of the pipe moving up and down are large claw looking pieces of equipment called tongs, and Zybala pulls PIC over towards them but PIC digs his heels into the floor, sliding a bit from the invert liquid used to bring up loose shale and rock and melted snow, forces Zybala to stop. PIC quickly grabs his head, and slams a left closed fist into Mike’s face, and pushes him at the spinning pipe, his face catching it on its spin, giving a nasty looking road-rash to his right cheek. PIC quickly grabs one set of the tongs, and uses his might to swing them over towards Zybala catching him in the right side of his ribcage. ~

Smith: From what I understand those are called tongs, and they clamp onto the pipe to connect and break apart when they trip the well.

Hood: Trip the well?

Smith: When they drill every 500metres to 1000metres they pull the pipe back and replace the drill bit before sending it back down.

Hood: Metre?! SPEAK AMERICAN!

~ PIC clamps the tong onto Mike’s arm, trapping him in place, and he starts feeding kicks to his sides and haymakers to the sides of his head. Zybala spits blood and strains to reach over to the other pair of tongs. PIC yanks him back over, but Zybala manages to throw one of his patented superkicks that look better than someone’s from Kookomonga and it levels the champ, and he falls back to the solid iron floor, giving him no mercy. Mike frees his arm, and looks around for something to smack PIC with. He sees an old school black 2.5ft rubber pipe wiper that is essentially a rope but we won’t call it what rig workers call it cause CANCELLED, and uses it like a whip, and PIC certainly doesn’t like the feeling of it. ~

Hood: Is that a whip?

Smith: Not quite. Come here, I can’t say this on TV.

Hood: Pussy.

Smith: *whispering to Hood*

Hood: Shit, yeah. Even Archie Bunker stopped saying half of that in the 70s.

~ PIC is up, and knowing it’s stupid to try and bum rush Zybala in this situation, heads to the ladder on the Derrick and starts to is ascent. Zybala begins to follow, both of them not seeing that The Big Bifford has climbed the stairs into the Doghouse and has made his way out onto the drilling floor, looking up at his opponents climbing up the 80-foot piece of white painted iron. ~

Smith: Uh-oh, Bifford has found his way back into the match.

Hood: A man that big? No way he doesn’t make his way back into it.

~ Biff has used his brains and found a plus sized fall-arrest and harness. Oil rig workers have shown up on the scene and are in the Doghouse, trying to shut down the rig but the computer systems have seen better days after PIC and Zybala. About 40 feet up, Zybala has climbed out onto what is called the Monkey Board, a small flat surface 5x4 feet in size, and PIC follows him up, and they are trading left and rights up with nothing but iron below, and a slide called the pipe ramp, used to pull pipe up from a catwalk that’s filled with bags of potassium currently, and of course, snow! PIC drops Zybala down a vicious DDT that cracks the surface of the monkeyboard. ~

Smith: You know, it’s like the Commissioner expected for the match to end up going this way, having a camera mounted all the way up there.

Hood: Well, six possibilities it would and it finally did. I thought the tag match was gonna be a murder, but I spoke way too soon. Someone isn’t walking away from it. Imagine if Zybala not only lost his career but got matching futuristic Batman legs like Lord Allton?

Smith: What kinda sick stuff did your momma do to you?

Hood: Better question is, what kinda sick stuff did your mom ask me to do to her? Heh Heh.

~ While contemplates hitting Hood, PIC wipes his hair out of his face, the cold air starting to bother him up that high with no heat source. Who isn’t bothered by it, is the man with layers of quality chicken sandwiches (real chicken, he’s not cannibal... we don’t think) as The Big Bifford has reached them. PIC wasn’t able to hear Biff due to the rig moving but the rig workers have finally pulled it off and the rig has stopped it’s drilling, the wind silencing the air from the loud high decibel sound, but the effect is in place but PIC hears Biff’s booming voice as does the mounted camera. ~

The Big Bifford: I WANT MY SHOES AND MY TITLE BACK!

~ PIC’s eyes go wide as Biff let’s out an angry roar and brings a huge left meat hook of a paw down across the top of his head putting him down beside Zybala. Biff grabs PIC by the tights as well as Zybala but what Bifford can’t see is... ~

Smith: Zybala just unclasped the lanyard from Biff’s harness!

Hood: What’s that?

Smith: Really? It’s the clip that snaps to the fall-arrest. Have you never been rock climbing?

Hood: Wy would you be arrested for falling? That’s stupid.

Smith: No, you are.

Hood: That’s racist.

~ PIC and Zybala both eyeball each other realizing they need to work together at this juncture of time, because, death is in the air. All of a sudden... ~

Smith: Oh god another tremor and this one isn’t stopping!

Hood: Look out my piss bottles are gonna shatter!!!!!

~ The Derrick creaks as the tremor vibrates right through the Rig Floor and up the 80ft structure and falls forward off the Monkey Board but he doesn’t let go as they FALL OFF THE DERRICK! The OCW Faithful gasp, and the commentary team is Silent Night, Deadly Night 2: Garbage Day, time to take out the trash. Zybala and PIC swing their arms around Biff’s back and waist, barely pulling themselves onto his back as he hits the PIPE RAMP AT A PERFECT ANGLE but the weight causes it to snap off the side of the floor 20 feet up from the ground, sliding down at what must feel like 100mph and up in the air from the ramp/slide curving. Lives are flashing before eyes here, folks. Zybala is seeing all the crazy emails sent to Marcus Welsh and Victoria Strader and his beloved Emilio and Lord Allton; PIC seeing Sarah, Willie, and unfortunately TLS; Bifford seeing all the homeless that could’ve stocked one of the many quality chicken sandwich restaurants, Martha Stewart in a negligee and OG Buffy the Vampire Slayer and they land hard slide right onto the catwalk into the pile of bags of potassium, which is basically salt so you know that fucking hurts, causing a giant cloud of white fly up in the air as both Zybala and PIC barrel roll as Bifford lays lifeless in the carnage of the pile of heavy duty paper sacs busted all to hell. The OCW Faithful are losing it!

OCW Faithful: HO-LY FUCK! HO-LY FUCK! HO-LY FUCK!

Smith: Oh man, we need medics. Puff doesn’t know what to do!

Hood: There is The Commissioner.

~ Victoria walks out from under the curtain, winter jacket on as the snow is falling good now and the temperature has definitely dropped more than originally predicted. She directs The Knife Man and his crew over to Bifford as she makes her way over to PIC, who slowly sits up, holding a fist in the air to signal he’s ok, somehow. Before Strader can get over to Zybala he has popped and is throwing out superkicks, spinning around doing so but the cameramen catch the wincing on his face. Strader walks over to where Knifey, Phil and Eddy are checking on Bifford as another cameraman is over, the image on the Tron for the people but a lot of them who had left their seats were gathered near seeing if Bifford is alive. Knifey nods at the boss lady. ~

Victoria Strader: He’s breathing, yes? Ok good. Keep this match going!

~ The blood-lusting OCW Faithful hear her over the speakers and they erupt in cheers as do those around the carnage. Strader stays with the crew working on Bifford as PIC and Zybala head back to the ring, being the professional gentlemen, they can be. ~

Smith: True act of professionalism, heading back to the ring to finish thing.

Hood: I doubt that, probably shock. If this wasn’t wrestling you know they would be dead.

Smith: Lucky the rode Bifford like an Atom-Bomb is all.

Hood: More like Jon Snow riding a dragon for the first time. A real fat dragon.

~ Puff checks on both men, and motions for them to go at it, as the Faithful around Bifford and the crew move back to their seats, the propane heating tower erected once again. PICs hair blows in the snowing wind, his upper torso a little blue, same with Zybala, the Dreamweaver even more dreamy looking his tussled salt and pepper hair blowing in the wind, his shirt lost somewhere over the wreckage. ~

OCW Faithful: YOU ARE AWE-SOME! YOU ARE AWE-SOME!

Hood: The crowd heavily into this match for some reason.

Smith: Could be because it is an awesome match.

Hood: A match with Zybala in it... an awesome match? Get your eye glasses checked, you are blinder than Stevie Wonder... but yeah, this has been fucking crazy.

~ PIC pulls Zybala to him slamming his head down on the top of turnbuckle Bifford had taken off earlier, twice, and a third for a big corner splash and Zybala dekes away, PIC springboards with a tornado DDT that has Zybala come up to his feet and SHOWSTOPPA!!!!! And that stops any chance Zybala had of winning this match... PIC makes the cover after hooking the leg. ~

1!

2!!

3!

~ NOO! Zybala manages to get a shoulder up right before the count of three and Puff indicates that it was only a count of two but he couldn't stop his hand before the it slapped the mat. ~

Smith: Closest pin attempt of the match that I can’t believe is still going on.

Hood: Referees not knowing what they are doing either plus that fat bastard has been asleep for a while when they left the ring.

~ PIC can't believe it and the shock shows on his face, he pulls Zybala up to his feet and hooks his head under him armpit. He hooks the tights for purchase and gets out spinning PIC around and SOUND OF SILENCE(Reverse Go To Sleep)!!!!!!!!!!!!! He pins! ~

1!

2!!

3!!!NO

~ PIC rolls a shoulder up just in time. Zybala looks beyond shocked his hands in his hair, pulling as he wipes both hands down his battered face. ~

Smith: Man, this is crazy. How are they still going?!

~ Zybala manages to his feet just as PIC gets to his knees, shaking cobwebs out. He looks at Zybala who looks back, both tired, but both wanting to win. Collar and elbow tie up, PIC with a wristlock, Mike reverses, drops the wristlock, rolls behind PIC's back to his front, and drops him with a DDT on the canvas. He rolls him over, but notices that he is way too close to the ropes for a pin and resigns himself to go on just a bit more. He gets up to his feet, pulling PIC with him and Irish whips him into the ropes. He rebounds with a right hand, but Zybala grabs the right hand into a cross face submission, but PIC shoves forward into the ropes before the hold is synched in properly. Mike pulls him back up and he looks determined to win, but for that point so does PIC. Right hand from PIC, ducked by Zybala and he nails him with a right of his own. PIC is backed up against the ropes. Knife edge chop rocks him, another, and a third. The top of PIC's chest looks like raw e.coli infested ground beef from the chops and violence of the night. PIC winces from the blows and Zybala knees him in the midsection and pump handle slams him to the canvas, he falls on top of him. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ PIC manages to kick out again and this match continues on once more. Zybala believes it, because he knows PIC is arguably far more resilient than any other person here in OCW. He leans back on his knees, reaches for the ropes behind him, and pulls himself up to his feet. PIC rolls over and Zybala is there to help him up to a vertical base. PIC swings with a haymaker, Zybala ducks, PIC keeps spinning from the force and is slammed into the canvas with a full nelson slam to the mat. Zybala climbs to the top rope, pausing only once to catch his breath. He looks down at PIC and dives driving his elbow into the right leg of PIC, he grunts both from the move and the impact of his weight landing on him. Zybala rolls PIC over to him back and hooks the leg in his armpit; he slowly steps over and leans back with a single legged Boston Crab. PIC screams out in both frustration, pain and determination. He begins the slow crawl to the opposite side of the ring, where the ropes are and a hold break. Zybala grunts from the pressure he is exerting to try and make PIC submit, but never the less, he is causing a tremendous amount of energy to be expended as he crawls ever so slowly to the ropes. PIC reaches out a hand, but Zybala yanks him back to the middle of the ring, locking the move back in. The referee is there in PIC's face asking if he wants to submit, but PIC has enough energy left to shoot the man a bird before beginning the arduous journey back to the ropes and safety. Sweat is pouring down him face, him hair plastered to him head as he crawls to the ropes. Zybala is pouring sweat from having to keep the hold locked in and hold it on. PIC reaches the ropes and the hold is broken. Zybala stands up, looking at his opponent for just a second before Irish whipping him into the corner but PIC reverses it and it’s the same damn exposed turnbuckle with Zybala’s head bouncing off it as something in the distance... ~

The Big Bifford: MY SHOES MY TITLE!!!!!

~ PIC’s eyes go wide as does everyone else as Bifford erupts upwards in the distance sending Knifey, Phil and Eddy flying outwards and starts to beeline it for the ring. Another tremor is flowing through the ground. ~

Smith: That’s another tremor!

Hood: Could be that angry fucking rhino storming this way!

PIC looks like that zack galifianakis or lili reinhart math meme and despite the tremoring ground he hops to the top rope, almost losing his he manages to leap off with THE END RESULT(450 Splash), and hooks the leg as Bifford come over the steel barrier towards the ring. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!

~ Bifford gets to the ring too late, falling to his knees as PIC rolls of Zybala, only the adrenaline keeping him going. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: Your winner via pinfall and... STILL OCW CHAMPION.... PIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Smith: PIC retains again the OCW title in one of the craziest matches seen this year in OCW.

Hood: And Zybala is gone! 2023 is gonna rule!

Smith: Man, Mike...

~ PIC is handed his OCW Championship as he holds it up high, Bon Jovi blasting through the speakers and the OCW Faithful are applauding the massacre they just saw. PIC looks down at Zybala, nodding out of respect, and the same to Bifford. ~

Smith: A nod of respect from PIC, who’s truly shaping and carving out a legacy in OCW uniquely his own!

Hood: And Zybala is gone!

~ PIC passes Victoria Strader who shakes his hand and pats him on the shoulder as she makes her down to the ring. Climbing inside, she offers a hand to Zybala, helping him up. The Faithful cheer the man loudly. Victoria raises the microphone up to her lips, and that sneer is across her face only for a second before a look of genuine sadness comes across her face. ~

Victoria Strader: Mike, I just wanted to say, that OCW will not be any better without you competing within this legendary ring. Dylan Thomas is the heart of OCW but you sir, even as crazy as you drove me at times the last few months, you are 100% the soul of this place and I think I speak for everyone when I say... Thank you, Mike. Thank you for sacrificing everything for the greatest fans in the world and the greatest promotion to have ever existed. We all will forever be in your debt.

~ Victoria extends her hand but it’s Zybala and he hugs her tightly as he can, and while she holds her arms out like get off me, she ends up embracing him as the OCW Faithful start to chant. ~

OCW Faithful: THANK-YOU-MIKE! THANK-YOU-MIKE! THANK-YOU-MIKE! THANK-YOU-MIKE! THANK-YOU-MIKE!

Smith: Yes, thank you Mike! For all of us here at OCW, thank you for being with us on this historic night to end 2022 and may 2023 bring us with even more - - -

Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY!

Smith: Happy New Year and goodnight!

Teddy Says Goodbye, Bitch

~ Victoria Strader stands outside in her pink Canada Goose winter coat, an Equality purple toque with the OCW logo on it, watching as the crew finishes up deconstructing the outdoor venue. She walks around making sure everything is done right. A crew member comes up to her. ~

Crew: Everything is done Miss Strader, the Rig Crew will be here to watch over the equipment and everything when the trucks drive in the morning.

Victoria Strader: Thank you. You all did wonderful tonight, and just wanted to let you know, when you get to the hotels in Whitecourt tonight, there are vouchers for all of you at strip club. You all deserve to ring in the new year in a way I know you all in will enjoy. I know it’s no OCW Nibbles, but it’ll have to do!

Crew: Thank you! We will miss you, Miss Strader! Happy New year to you as well.

~ The crew scurry off to the large Greyhound Bus she had rented to transport the crew and talent, although it was Short Bus she got for The Brotherhood of Bastards. As she takes a look around, a voice is heard from behind her. ~

???: You made a mistake firing my friend!

~ Victoria lets out a sigh as the signature Strader Sneer comes across her face as she turns around to face... ~

Lilith: What? Nothing to say?

Victoria Strader: I have a few things to say, Lilith. One: if you think my Auntie is your friend because she was nice to you, you are on glue. She’s nice to everyone. She is literally the nice one of the family. Two: I fired them because I didn’t need to hear anything about bias. I was eventually accused of having preferential treatment of others because some people have their heads planted firmly up their own asses. And three: this was my last show. I am leaving to see my girlfriend Brooklyn through the portal then I am looking after my mom because your “friend” is helping a new promotion get up off the ground. So, just crawl back from whatever rock you crawled out from and just leave me alone.

~ Lilith stares at her, looks to the ground and BAM! Lilith sends a jab into the throat of the former OCW Commissioner, causing Victoria to drop to a knee. Lilith doesn’t wait and runs at Vee giving her a rather vicious right knee to the face sending her down to the snow as blood sprays from her nose across the white tundra. ~

Lilith: Come on, fight back!

~ Victoria pushes up her right sleeve, and presses a button on what looks like a Apple Watch but suddenly a large PORTAL opens up behind Victoria. ~

Victoria Strader: Another time.

~ Before Lilith can grab a hold of her, Victoria lets herself fall backwards into the PORTAL MINUS THE POTTY but a content look she was able to make the woman, who caused her friend to lose a job, bleed.