LIVE! Sunday, March 27th, 2022
FROM Dublin, Ireland
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Luck of the Violent! We are LIVE in Dublin as our trip through Ireland has reached it's climax.
Hood: Climax! OH YEA
Smith: Easy, Hood. Tonight we bring you 9 main event level matches as the very best in OCW do battle in an attempt to all reach one, common goal...knocking Outcast from his throne.
Hood: The top of OCW is a long, arduous climb. Vargas is at the summit, can he claim the mountain?
Smith: We'll find that out. Folks, it's been a long month...some of us have been very, very busy with work and MARCH MADNESS so let's make this start an abbreviated one and let's cut to The Temple Bar where I'm told the Bar Room Battle Royal will take place! Who will earn a shot at the Savage Champion? Let's find out!
Hood: Wow, that was a super quick PPV start...no fancy intro or video.
Smith: We'll get em next month, champ.
Hood: Thanks, dad.
~We cut to the Temple Bar. OCW referee Gruff is enjoying a nice, fresh lager when he’s suddenly made aware that he has to ref his match. He grumbles and finishes the beer, finding a spot in the bar that looks as good as any for some FIGHTING to begin~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to LUCK OF THE VIOLENT!
~Belvedere speaks from inside the stadium, his voice booming throughout the bar speakers~
Belvedere: Our opening match is a Bar Room Battle Royal! In order to eliminate someone, you must throw them OUT of the bar. The final wrestler standing will earn a Savage Title Shot. Introducing the competitors…
~Everybody looks around, waiting for all the competitors. They wait and wait~
Smith: Anybody? Bueller? ANYBODY?
Hood: Well, this was a real good idea.
~The bar door swings open and KELSON HEWITT walks in!!! Everybody goes wild~
Smith: Thank you, Kelson!
Hood: Whew, that was about to be pretty, pretty embarrassing.
Smith: Right? Alright, let’s see who’s next.
~Again, we wait. And wait, and wait...seconds turn into minutes. Gruff looks around like “I don’t think anybody is gonna show up.” Kelson, eager for combat, continues to loosen up, believing it won’t...it CAN’T be this easy. We cut to Welsh. He’s seated inside his office, shaking his head~
Marcus Welsh: Nobody else is gonna show, are they?
Greg: They might, Marcus.
Marcus Welsh: Greg, I love your enthusiasm. But this is LIVE on PPV and the longer this goes, the more embarrassing it is. That’s it, I’m calling it. Kelson wins via fearful forfeit.
~Belvedere receives the message~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m told the rest of the roster has forfeited this match out of EXTREME FEAR...therefore, your winner and NEW #1 CONTENDER TO THE SAVAGE TITLE...KELSON HEWITT!!!!!
~Gruff is like “Whatever” and he raises Kelson’s arm. Kelson is shocked. He looks around, waiting for Ashton Kutcher or some shit...but no surprise happens. This is legit. This...is...it~
Smith: Well, that’s a lame start to PPV.
Hood: No shit.
Smith: Although, given the tough road Kelson’s had since joining...I’d say he’s pretty much earned this shot.
Hood: True, he’s faced three wrestlers...those three? Grenier, Vee Strader, and Dylan Thomas. Give that man some success, give him a shot at a belt.
Smith: Kelson Hewitt is our new #1 Contender for the Savage Title!
~Kelson shrugs...fans walk up, congratulating him. He plays it off, not really thinking he should be congratulated or rewarded for simply showing up but, sometimes, that’s all a person has to do. He takes a seat at the bar with Gruff to enjoy himself for a little bit, not wanting to waste the trip~
Smith: Enjoy the rest of the night, Kelson. As I just said, you’ve earned it.
Hood: Damn straight.
Smith: Can you smell that, Hood? Can you smell IT?!
Hood: I smell a lot of things. What am I supposed to be smelling? -sniffs-
Smith: Freshness.
Hood: The hell does Freshness smell like?
Smith: It smells like Mark Storm. It smells like Easton Alexander.
Hood: Weird. How do you know what either, let alone BOTH, of those guys smell like?
Smith: It’s a metaphor. Freshness is in the air as two new faces are set to square off for a Craze Title shot!
Hood: To be fair, Mark Storm has been around off and on for almost a decade. Easton, okay, that dude’s new.
Smith: With every storm comes a sense of rebirth. A sense of starting over. This time, Mark Storm has his sights set on establishing a legacy in OCW that extends beyond “Talented but unfocused.”
Hood: And Easton?
Smith: Easton is as new as they come, Hood. A total rookie to OCW and the business. He’s targeted Mark Storm in the hopes of defeating him and enjoying a meteoric rise up the OCW ranks.
Hood: I like it. The guy is vicious and is too new to understand that it isn’t supposed to happen this quick. Same as PerZag…and all PerZag did was win a shit load of titles his first few months in the business.
Smith: Indeed. One man looks to make a name for himself. The other looks to make up for missed opportunity. It’s Easton Alexander. It’s Mark Storm. It’s for a Craze Title shot and it’s next!
~Belvedere enters the ring to a HUGE ovation!! The Irish Hooligans in attendance are ready for some LIVE action inside the stadium! Finally, their desires will be fulfilled as Belvedere clears his golden throat to a huge ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for a Craze Title shot at Technical Difficulties in April!!
~HUGE OVATION~
Belvedere: Introducing first…
~Maniac - Carpenter Brut begins to play. The fans start to boo when they see OCW newcomer...the angry, the violent, the belligerent Easton Alexander emerge from underneath the giant, illuminated four leaf clover. He pauses while on stage, listening to the fans boo. He scowls, scanning the mass of humanity, 70,000 humans to be exact. He shakes his head...they’re wrong, they’re all fools...he’s not a man to be booed. HE’S IN THE RIGHT. He tunes them out and marches down the ramp toward the ring~
Belvedere: From North Bay Ontario Canada...standing 6’1 and weighing in at 210 lbs...he is the Canadian Dragon...he is...Easton Alexander!!!
~Easton continues the long march down the aisle knifing through thousands of peoples, providing safe passage toward the ring. Fans boo and point at Easton as he walks past them...but, he’s doing a good job of ignoring them, keeping his focus on the ring~
Smith: Getting our first REAL look at Easton here tonight. He’s 1-0 but that one win came courtesy of a backstage beating when he laid Sugar Valentine out so horribly the match was cancelled and Easton was gifted a win.
Hood: Just means OCW management sees talent in the guy...that or he threatened to beat up some more kids if they didn’t.
Smith: We may not be the most family friendly promotion in the world but having more than one kid a quarter get beat up by a wrestler is a bad look.
Hood: Hey, let’s be honest. Sometimes those kids have it coming, Smith.
Smith: An adult should never beat up a kid!
~Easton reaches the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope, popping to his feet. He locates a corner and stands in it, back to the entrance as his music stops. The fans continue to boo his behavior~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The fans stand and start to cheer. They know who’s about to come out and they’re excited to see him. Short Change Hero by The Heavy begins to play through the speakers and the lights in the arena simultaneously dim down. Smoke begins to rise from the top of the stage and appearing on the screen above are the following words~
~A massive pop ensues as the words diminish from the screen and are replaced by the a visual:~
~Emerging from the back is a figure that you can barely see, as the lights in the arena dim down. Red strobe lights shine against the man standing at the top of the entrance ramp, who lifts his head to reveal his decorated signature skull face paint. It's Storm; who keeps himself composed as he stands at the top of the entrance ramp. He can't help but allow his sadistic signature smirk to appear upon his lips as he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide, soaking in the energy that the audience are giving him as they applaud and cheer~
Belvedere: From Brooklyn, New York... weighing in a two hundred and twenty five pounds - The Reckoning of Professional... STORMMMMMM
~He begins his walk down the entrance ramp, with a leather coat completing his attire as he comes down the entrance ramp~
This ain't no place for no better man.
This ain't no place for no hero
To call "home."
~At this point, Storm is by the edge of the ring; allowing a smile to embed on his face before he jumps onto the apron and holds onto the ropes, using them to help himself up onto the turnbuckle. He's grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the rest of the cheers coming from the audience, shaking his head sideways as he lowers it, before jumping into the ring. Taking off his leather coat, he hands it to Belvedere before walking over to his designated corner and hoisting himself up onto the second ropes, a smirk upon his lips as he holds his arms up; his theme song slowly diminishing~
Smith: Mark Storm making his Pay Per View return!
Hood: Well, he looks confident, I’ll give him that.
~Storm’s music dies out. His arms are in the air. Behind him, across the ring we get a shot of Easton, his back to Storm, he’s ignored the entire entrance. With the music coming to a close, Storm hops off the rope and spins around, ready for combat. Belvedere is gone...Scruff is in the ring. He sees both men are inside the ring, no weapons present, so he signals for the bell and it rings. The fans go wild~
Smith: And here we go! Mark Storm taking on Easton Alexander!
Hood: Easton hasn’t thrown one glance Mark’s way. Man, he’s really disgusted by Storm. He must hate weather.
Smith: I don’t think it has anything to do with weather, Hood. Easton feels like Storm disrespected him. He thinks Storm is a fraud.
Hood: Wouldn’t surprise me. Most storms are flakes. How often do you hear about a big storm heading your way only for it to disappear or head somewhere else? Fuckin storms.
~Storm sees Easton’s back, the only part of Easton’s body he’s been shown. He points and yells out, “Turn around, Easton. Face me like a man!” Easton’s body tenses up. He grabs the ropes and shakes them before turning around, face full of fury. He heads toward Mark and looks him up and down. With extreme derision he says, “Your Hero and Mine?” He shakes his head and rears back with a punch...but Storm blocks it!! The fans go wild!! Storm unloads on Easton with a right hand of his own and another and another!! Easton staggers back into his corner!! The fans continue cheering. Storm rears back and he cracks Easton across the jaw with a vicious haymaker!!! Easton falls to the mat and rolls out of the ring, under the bottom rope…he drops to one knee outside the ring, holding his jaw. The fans chant “STORM! STORM! STORM!”~
Smith: Mark Storm just unloaded on Easton! He’s spent years building up his reputation...he’s not gonna stand there and let some rookie soil it!
Hood: What are these people chanting? Is this like an Irish rain chant or something?
Smith: They’re chanting for Mark Storm, idiot!
Hood: Well, there’s no need for name calling.
~Storm looks down over the top rope at Easton and shakes his head. He looks out to his fans and plays to them for a bit...they eat it up. He turns around to head for the center of the ring...but once he turns his back to Easton, the rookie reaches in and grabs Storm by the leg, pulling back!! Storm falls forward, smacking his face into the mat. Easton yanks him outside and slams him, back first into the edge of the apron!!! Storm reaches for his back, grimacing. Easton, back on his feet, chops Storm across the chest...he then backhands Storm across the face before wrapping both hands around Storm’s throat and choking. Scruff flies through the ropes and rushes in to break the hold~
Smith: Easton is filled with rage. Scruff needs to get in there or he may choke Mark out.
Hood: Imagine being a rookie...being the new guy...then imagine a veteran YOU respect making you look like a jerk in front of everyone? That’d piss you off, right?
Smith: Mark was having a bad day, Hood. Happens to the best of us.
Hood: Yea? Well he’s about to have a shitty night as a result of that ‘bad day’
~Easton finally breaks the hold. Scruff backs off...looks like he was close to calling a DQ. Easton fires forward before Mark can recover, blasting him with a forearm to the face. He then tosses Storm into the ring, under the bottom rope. Storm rolls toward the center of the ring where he slowly reaches one knee. Easton hops onto the apron and enters, moving with great purpose. He grabs Storm by the hair but Storm fires a punch into Easton’s midsection, staggering the rookie. Storm rises to his feet and he delivers a forearm uppercut that sends Easton reeling into the ropes. Storm whips Easton off the ropes, he charges across the ring...he bounces off the opposite ropes and Storm drops to the mat...Easton runs forward, but instead of hopping over Storm’s body, he steps on him and continues running. The weight stuns Storm as he’s slow to his feet, grimacing. Easton bounces off the ropes again...Storm turns around and he eats a Big Boot to the face!!! The back of Storm’s body slams into the mat so hard he flips over, winding up front first on the mat. The fans boo Easton~
Smith: Wow! I’m not the biggest Alexander fan but that displayed extremely high in-ring IQ.
Hood: He legit just stepped on him. Every other wrestler would have jumped him. Haha, that was great.
Smith: We might be looking at a prodigy, Hood. The likes of which we haven’t seen since PerZag.
Hood: I fuckin hope so!
~Storm struggles pushing himself up...that boot was fierce. Easton helps him, yanking Storm to his feet...he greets him with one, two, and three forearm shots to the side of the head. Easton then spins around and blasts Storm in the face with a roaring forearm!!! Storm staggers into the ropes, which keep him from falling over. Easton turns around, he grabs Storm’s head as he stumbles toward Alexander and he snapmares him over, into the center of the ring. Easton backs into the ropes, he bounces forward and delivers a vicious penalty kick to Storm’s back!!! The boot on flesh cracks throughout the Dublin sky as the fans in attendance wince. Storm leans back, grimacing as Easton stands over him, in total control~
Smith: Easton Alexander is taking it to Mark Storm. This is very impressive.
Hood: For weeks we’ve all wondered if this kid’s got any skill or if he’s just really good at sneak attacking pimps backstage. Well, turns out, he’s got the in-ring goods.
Smith: Indeed!
~Easton drops to his knees and he chokes Storm. Storm reacts by reaching up and raking Easton across the face!! Easton falters to the side while Storm rolls out of the ring. Easton shakes off the pain and slides out of the ring after Storm...he turns Storm around and hits him...Storm fires back with a punch of his own...the two begin brawling outside the ring. Scruff starts to count, ‘ONE!’ They continue to brawl “TWO!” they continue brawling “THREE!” They aren’t stopping “FOUR!” Nope, still not stopping, “FIVE!”~
Smith: These two men are trying to tear each other apart!
Hood: They’re gonna get their ass counted out if they don’t smarten up.
Smith: I don’t think they care, Hood.
~Scruff yells “SIX!” Storm lifts a knee into Easton’s gut. Scruff yells “SEVEN!” Easton fires back with a punch into Storm’s midsection. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Both men, doubled over, throw punches from a compromised position. Scruff yells “NINE!” They continue to brawl, standing upright as Scruff looks around, shrugs and yells “TEN!!!” He calls for the bell~
Smith: Is this...is it over?
Hood: Fuck. He really did it. He counted them both out.
Belvedere: Due to both competitors being unable to answer the ten count, this match has been ruled…
Voice: Ahem.
~The crowd pops. We cut to Welsh on the big screen~
Marcus Welsh: C’mon, guys. We’re not gonna have a double countout on PPV. Nope. That’s not how we roll. So, since the two of you seem intent on killing each other...how about we just continue on with this match as a No Disqualification?
~The crowd goes wild. Storm nods and says he’s good to go~
Marcus Welsh: Storm’s ready. Easton?
~Easton has a chair! He swings it and smashes Storm in the back!!! Welsh leans back~
Marcus Welsh: Damn. Okay, Easton is all in, as well. Scruff, RESTART THE MATCH!
~The bell rings once again, much to the crowd’s delight. Storm is leaning over the apron after suffering that chair shot. Easton hits him again! He falls to his knees. Easton hits him again and Storm falls to the ground, in serious pain. Easton slings the chair against the barricade, eager to find a new weapon~
Smith: Easton has been the aggressor throughout this entire feud. No shock he’s assumed that position once again tonight.
Hood: I’m telling ya, if Easton wins this thing. Watch out.
Smith: It might be the greatest Pay Per View debut in OCW history.
~Easton reaches under the ring and he pulls out a wooden board with barbed wire on it! The fans cheer! He slides it in under the bottom rope. He continues looking...he finds chairs and throws them into the ring, they all land on top of the barbed wire board. The center of the ring now features a steel chair, barbed wire board that looks extremely MATCH ENDING should anybody fall on it. Easton finally emerges with a table!! He sets it up outside the ring, longways, almost connected the apron to the barricade. He reaches for Storm and pulls him up, but Storm has had ample time to recover, so he smashes Easton in the gut with a right hand, sending the rookie stumbling back against the edge of the table. Storm pops to his feet and he punches Easton in the head over and over and over again until Easton is laying on the table~
Smith: Easton grabbed the table and now, it looks as though it might be used against him.
Hood: I like how a barbed wire board was just under the ring during a night when we had NO hardcore matches announced. Like, what the hell? Do we just carry those around with us?
Smith: I’ve got nothing for you.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~Storm hops onto the apron and backs up against the post, so he can get a running start. He moves toward Easton...but Easton rolls off the table!!! Storm is able to divert his momentum as he runs across the table and onto the barricade. Easton turns around to face Storm and Storm leaps off the barricade with a flying knee into Easton’s head!!! Easton falls into the steps, tumbling over them and to the ground!! Storm lands hard and rubs his knee, but he’s quickly back to his feet, stomping on Easton, keeping him down~
Smith: Tremendous balance by Mark Storm. He isn’t an all timer for nothing, Hood.
Hood: All timer other places, but not here. I’m still waiting to see the ‘greatness’ of Mark Storm in OCW.
Smith: I think you’re going to get your wish...he seems focused this go around.
~Storm leans back against the guardrail with Easton down, rolling around in pain. An Irish fan hands Mark a mug of beer. Storm gladly takes it and takes a sip...he nods, that’s some good shit. Easton reaches his feet and storm SMASHES the glass mug into Easton’s head, shattering it everywhere! Easton falls to the ground, holding his head in pain, blood leaking through his fingers. Storm is holding the handle, broken away from the rest of the mug, he tosses it into the crowd as the fans go wild~
Smith: And a lucky fan is getting a souvenir!
Hood: I guess. It’s just a glass handle.
Smith: A glass handle that might have been the key weapon jump starting Mark Storm to main event status!
Hood: That’s a hell of a leap in logic, pal.
~Storm uses both hands to snare Easton by the hair, ripping him to his feet...but Easton fires an elbow into Mark’s midsection, sending Storm stumbling back. Easton charges ahead and takes Storm down with a lariat. Storm hits the ground hard. Easton leans against the apron, holding his head as blood leaks onto the apron. He slaps at it, frustrated at the sight of his own blood. He looks inside the ring and spots the barbed wire chair atrocity that’s been set up. He grabs Storm and slings him into the ring before rolling in behind him~
Smith: Easton might be bleeding, but he’s in control. If he drops Storm on that pile of pain, I’d assume he’ll win.
Hood: He’s bleeding pretty good. Seeing your own blood will set you off.
~Easton returns to his feet...he pulls Storm up and hoists him into the air for a powerbomb...but Storm punches at Easton’s cut head, knowing he cannot be powerbombed into the pile in the center of the ring. Easton stumbles back near the ropes...the table on the other side of the ring. Storm continues punching...Easton, finally, musters all his strength and he tosses Mark over his head!!! Storm flies over the ropes and falls, front first through the table!!! It shatters from the impact, leaving Mark face down, amid a pile of rubble. The fans go crazy, chanting ‘HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!’ Storm is down. Easton drops to one knee, holding his cut head in pain~
Smith: Wow, what strength by Easton! He just tossed Storm with ease over his head and through that table!
Hood: I don’t know how ‘easy’ it was, but he got it done.
Smith: Easton’s close to winning this, Hood.
Hood: Yes, I can see that. Calm down.
~Easton finally gathers himself, subduing the pain and steps through the ropes onto the apron. He leaps off with a splash onto Storm!! He turns Storm over for the pin. Scruff is like “Well, nobody specified so I’m gonna treat this like a Falls Count Anywhere!” and he dives onto the apron and slaps the HARDEST PART OF THE RING~
1!
2!
3...NO!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: Storm got the shoulder up!
Hood: IS this a Falls Count Anywhere match?
Smith: If it wasn’t before, it is now.
~Easton curses, punching the side of the steps with his fist. He thought he had it, but he’s learning it’s tough to get a PPV win in OCW. He returns to his feet and pulls a dazed Storm to his feet, slinging him into the ring. Easton crawls in behind Storm...he gets to his feet and points toward the pile of danger in the center. The fans BOOO! They don’t want to see THEIR HERO go through that. So, Easton just waves his hands at them, indicating he doesn’t give a shit and he goes back after Storm~
Smith: Easton looking to end it.
Hood: Wind’s gotta pick up, storm’s got to brew otherwise we’re looking at another failed return by YOUR HERO AND MINE
~Easton pulls Storm up, but Storm fights back!!! Storm’s heels are up against the pile of pain. He punches and chops Easton back against the ropes!! Easton springs off the ropes and throws a punch, but Storm ducks!!! Easton stumbles forward, almost into the pile...he turns around and eats a boot to the gut!!! The crowd rises. Storm hoists Easton up onto his shoulders for his patented Incursio! (Inverted GTS) onto the pile!!! Easton fights out of it!! He slides down Storm’s back and spins Storm around, kicking him in the gut and hooking his arms~
Smith: Easton’s gonna try to drop Storm front first into that pile with Cursed Night!
Hood: Another failed launch for Mark Storm.
~Storm, sensing he’s about to get beat, pushes back with his feet, bullying Easton into a corner. The impact forces a break...Storm rises up and he chops Easton in the chest. He takes a few steps back and runs in, but Easton gets his boot up, kicking Storm in the face!!! Storm stumbles around, turning his back to Easton. Easton hops onto the middle rope...he then hops onto the top rope...he leaps off at Storm...but Storm catches him on his shoulders!!!! The crowd rises!!! Storm pulls Easton down and drops him on top of the pile of chairs and barbed wire with Heroes End!!!!! Despite sitting on barbed wire, Storm holds on for the pin, Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...MARK STORM!!!!!
Smith: Storm wins! Storm wins!
Hood: Wow, his first PPV win in, like, forever.
Smith: Man, what a victory!!
~Storm rolls away, holding his back and his ass. Easton is out, on top of the rubble, being tended to by medics. Storm rolls out of the ring and high fives some fans, in too much pain to really celebrate right now~
Smith: Easton Alexander was game, tonight Hood. What a talent he is.
Hood: No shit, man. That kid’s gonna be a star.
Smith: Yep, I’m sure we’ll see these two go at it again in the future. But, for now, Mark Storm is victorious and he will get a Craze Title shot in April!
~A prerecorded video that maybe could have aired at the start of the show but, hey, a few matches in isn’t too bad. The camera fades in to a prison's visitation room, obviously on the visitor's side of the glass. AKB steps in to frame, walking forward and sitting at one of the booths. On the other side of the glass, a door opens and a prison guard steps through. Right behind him is Mack O'Connor, dressed for interview in his finest black institutional clothing. He nods to the guard, then approaches the glass. He sits across from AKB, and they both pick up their phones.~
AKB: Hey Mack, good to see you.
Mack: It's been some time.
AKB: What have you been up to?
~Mack stares at him for a moment.~
Mack: You know... Just traveling. Seeing the world.
AKB: Right... Yeah... Sorry.
Mack: It happens.
~AKB looks through his notes.~
AKB: So I came by to chat with you about this Sunday's big event. "Luck of the Violent." It's set to be one of the greatest ones yet! Do you plan on viewing?
Mack: If they decide to put it on in the rec room, sure.
AKB: Wouldn't that be something! Anyway, OCW decided to send me out here to get your opinions on the line-up.
Mack: I'm happy to oblige.
AKB: We're leading off with a Bar Room Brawl. Anyone can enter that bar and fight for a Savage Title shot at our next big event.
Mack: Bar Room Brawl? Nice. Right up my alley. Who's fighting?
AKB: As of now, the contestants are still up in the air.
Mack: Oh... Okay?
AKB: Then, following the Bar Room Brawl, we have a showdown between Mark Storm and Easton Alexander for a shot at the Craze Title! Your thoughts?
Mack: I've heard of Mark Storm.
~They sit in silence for several moments.~
AKB: Okay... So after that, we have Bob Grenier and Dadbod fighting for Zybala's freedom!
~Mack stares at him.~
Mack: Can you repeat that sentence?
AKB: Sure... Um... We have Bob Grenier and Dadbod fighting for Zybala's freedom.
Mack: I have a lot of questions.
AKB: We only have ten minutes.
Mack: Let's just move on then.
AKB: Yes... So following the match for Zybala's freedom, we have Plethora's Open Challenge.
Mack: A Plethora, nice. So its a lot of people in the match?
AKB: Yep. Dangerous Dan, Duce Jones, Alice Knight, Mario Maurako, Lurrr, and Silverfreak.
Mack: Hey, I actually know those names.
AKB: Yep. And if any of them pins Plethora, they earn his title shot next month.
Mack: Pins Plethora?
AKB: Yeah. Its his open challenge.
Mack: Whose?
AKB: Plethora's.
Mack: Yeah, there's a plethora of people in the match.
AKB: Including Plethora.
Mack: I thought... Nevermind. I'm rooting for Alice. Move on.
AKB: Okay... Next up we have Tamika Strader versus Roach to crown the new Craze Championship.
Mack: I think I've met Roach once or twice. So I'll go ahead and say he'll win.
AKB: What about Strader?
Mack: I don't really know anything about him.
AKB: It's a her.
Mack: Oh, sorry... Been in here for so long all I see is men... What I would do to see a fuckin' woman. What's Strader look like?
AKB: Moving on... Next we have the Tag Team Champions. The Danger Boiz will be defending their belts against the Lockwood Party.
~Mack leans in close to the glass.~
Mack: Did you just say the Danger Boiz and the Lockwood Party are the two best tag teams in OCW right now?
AKB: Yes, sir. That's correct.
~Mack leans back~
Mack: Are you shitting me? Where are the Dravers? Jesus Christ... There's no one else? Zybala and Welsh can't make some calls? What about the eMpire? What about the Aptitude? Opie and Anthony? Bill and Ted? The Jonas Brothers? There's no one else?
AKB: I'm... I'm sorry... Do you have a prediction?
Mack: No.
AKB: Moving on... Next we have the Savage Championship! BRIM defends his championship against fellow champion Supreme Machine.
Mack: Fellow champion?
AKB: Yes. They are co-champions, so to speak.
Mack: Co-champions?
AKB: Yes.
Mack: Lets put a pin in that one... I'm going with BRIM, because Supreme Machine once beat the shit out of me in a boiler room.
AKB: Fair enough... After that, we have the TransAtlantic Championship.
Mack: Oh yes, the TransAtlantic belt...
AKB: Going down memory lane, eh Mack?
Mack: Who's fighting?
AKB: Veronica Strader is defending against the Lost Stranger.
~Mack tilts his head~
Mack: Lost Stranger? Is that anything like the Lost Soul?
AKB: You can say that.
Mack: Lets go ahead and predict he wins then.
AKB: Great. And to wrap up the night, the OCW Championship match. Outcast defending against Chad Vargas. Your thoughts?
Mack: Outcast is champion now? Man, things really have changed since I've been locked up... If Outcast worked hard enough to get to be the World Champ, I think I'll have to go with him as the winner. Vargas is my boy, but he's too inconsistent. He's also a redneck.
AKB: Lots of good points there.
Mack: Well, two.
AKB: Now I want to ask you about some rumors floating around. As you know, there was a movie released about your time in prison, and there was a certain depiction that-
Mack: Guards! My time is up!
AKB: Hold on, Mack! Just one more second!
Mack: Nope! They're pretty strict around here! Goodbye!
~Mack slams the phone down, stands up, and walks to the door. We can't hear them, but the guard indicates he still has five minutes. Mack shakes his head, pulling the door open and leaving.~
AKB: Well, those are the former champ's thoughts on next weeks event.
~The feed cuts back to Smith and Hood, who both look very underwhelmed.~
Smith: And we thank AKB for that... Whatever that was...
Hood: Is it just me or has Mack lost some weight?
Smith: I'm sure he's fine.
Hood: You don't think he has ass AIDS, do you?
Smith: And, moving on...more in ring action!
Smith: What a night it’s been and we haven’t even reached the championship portion!
Hood: The championship matches are overrated anyway. Undercard is where it’s at, Smith.
Smith: I don’t think I’d agree with that. But our undercard is spectacular.
Hood: Yes, like a perfectly shaped ass...OCW’s undercard has the goods.
Smith: Sure, anyway...hold on, what’s that?!
~The fans pop as a port-o-potty appears from underneath the giant shamrock. It’s wheeled down the ramp and toward the ring by none other than zyBALDa! Why are the fans cheering? Because port-o-potties are over in OCW, apparently~
Smith: Is that for the refs?
Hood: Did Scruff eat some gas station sushi?
Smith: I hope not!
~ZyBALDa is mouthing something over and over while pushing the port-o-potty to the ring. It appears he’s saying “fuck zybala fuck zybala fuck zybala”~
Smith: ZyBALDa looks angry...or, well, angrier than usual.
Hood: Probably because he had to leave that lavish future to come back and slum it with us in 2022.
~The Port-o-Potty reaches ringside and is set up to the side with zyBALDa guarding it. He wraps a pair of brass knucks around his hand and flashes the lower end of a pistol that’s tucked under the waist band of his sweat pants and underneath his pale, white gut that’s covered with curly black hair. Most fans groan with disgust~
Smith: We didn’t really need the visual, zyBALDa. We’d have believed you.
Hood: I’d head into that port o potty to hurl but I think it’d make me hurl again.
~Belvedere looks over at ZyBALDa and the Port-o-Potty and just kinda shrugs. Classic OCW, Baby. He speaks into the mic~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the match that will decide Zybala’s fate!! Once this match is over Zybala will either be free to compete for the OCW Title or he will be unable to ever hold OCW’s most coveted prize. So, let’s meet the competitors...introducing first, the man that will be fighting FOR Zybala!
~The fans go wild. "Blitzkrieg Bop" – Ramones hits!! Slowly, emerging from under the giant shamrock is THE DADBOD!! He’s sporting a pair of nike basketball shorts with a ‘I LOVE IRELAND’ tourist t-shirt on. He apparently got trapped in one of those tourist gift shops. He pulls out his camera and begins taking photos as he heads down the ramp to the ring~
Smith: It’s Dadbod! Back on Pay Per View!
Hood: For a guy who never wins anything he sure does seem to be granted opportunity after opportunity.
Smith: I see nothing wrong with it, Hood.
Hood: You think his wife keeps sending angry emails and letters to OCW, complaining to management? That’s probably why he keeps getting booked...to keep the woman quiet.
~Dadbod nears the ring. A fan leans over with a poster that’s already been signed by Tamika Strader, during her signing earlier in the week. The fan seems to be asking Dadbod to sign it...but, Dadbod, being more fan than wrestler, takes the poster and thanks the fan, heading to the ring with it under his arm, “My kids will love this!” he exclaims leaving the angry, screaming fan behind~
Smith: Dadbod just casually stealing a fan’s merchandise.
Hood: Guy doesn’t even realize his autograph is worth...well, something.
Smith: He obviously thought that was a gift. Simple mistake.
Belvedere: From Omaha, Nebraska...standing six feet tall and weighing in at 230lbs...he is David Barker...he is...THE DADBOD!!!!
~Dadbod jumps when he hears his name. Still getting used to that. He reaches the ring and sees ZyBALDa next to the port-o-potty. ZyBALDa flashes the handle of his pistol while simultaneously scratching the underbelly of his gut. Dadbod’s eyes widen and his head quickly turns as he heads up the steps and enters into the ring~
Smith: He’s a long way from Omaha, Hood.
Hood: He’s not in Kansas anymore.
Smith: Omaha is in Nebraska. Belvedere JUST said that.
Hood: Fuck off, I don’t have time to memorize every city located in states nobody gives a shit about.
Belvedere: And, his opponent...the man who will be fighting for Poblano and AGAINST Zybala.
~BOOOOO go the fans~
Hood: Nice, Belvedere. Way to basically tell the fans to boo the fuck out of this guy.
Smith: He’s fighting for the enemy, Hood!
Hood: He’s fighting for himself. I’m sure Poblano is gonna make Bob rich if he wins. He’s gonna get so much money that the entire nation of Canada (GREAT NATION TO THE NORTH) will become the Grenier farm.
~Where The Hood At by DMX hits! MORE BOOING. Bob Grenier walks out from under the shamrock and immediately blows a massive snot rocket into the air. The fans all recoil with disgust before booing again. He looks as angry and violent as ever, making his way down the ramp, keeping a look over his brow at the ring and, more importantly, THE DADBOD inside it~
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs...he is a former OCW Champion, he is in the OCW Hall of Fame...he is...Bob Grenier!!!
Smith: And here comes Bob Grenier. He defines the term’ legend’ around here...but, he’s had a rough go of it lately.
Hood: I mean, not really. Kelson beat him, but Kelson’s a badass. And he lost in THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS...but so did everyone not named Outcast.
Smith: Still, his momentum has slowed. A win tonight would be huge for him.
Hood: He’d be a hero, Smith. Zybala must never be allowed to get near the OCW Title. NEVER EVER
~Grenier reaches the bottom of the ramp and eyes the Port-o-Potty. There’s a gleam in his eye that indicates he’s had more than a few ‘wild’ times inside those things. ZyBALDa gives Grenier a fist of solidarity...get the job done, Bob. Bob nods and heads up the steps, entering into the ring~
Belvedere: And now, before the match begins...I’m told we must all look toward the...excuse me? Okay, I’m reading that correct. Toward the...PORTAL POTTY
~ZyBALDa opens the door to the port-o-potty which is being called PORTAL POTTY. He grabs the owl statuette and repeats “OWL IS NIGHT! OWL IS NIGHT! OWL IS NIGHT!” And, suddenly a giant portal opens up inside the port-o-potty. Through the portal we see Zybala strapped to a chair with Who’Re next to him~
Smith: It’s Zybala!
Hood: And the WHORE
Smith: I guess he’s going to watch from the other side of the portal.
Hood: Seems kinda dumb...let him see what’s going on so he could, ya know, possibly escape, jump through the portal, and fuck up the outcome. But, villains are gonna villain.
~ZyBALDa, as a warning, grabs his pistol and he slides it in and out of his pants, threatening to use it to anyone who approaches the portal potty. He does it so much that we start to think he’s pleasuring himself. So, we quickly cut away~
Smith: Thank goodness.
Hood: Yea, I didn’t want to see his sweat pants suddenly form a thick, wet stain in the crotch region.
~Dadbod looks at ZyBALDa with an expression that seems to echo Hood’s previous statement of ‘We’re not in Kansas anymore” only replace Kansas with Nebraska. The ring shakes and Dadbod turns, but not quickly enough as Grenier rams him into a corner with a shoulder!!! The fans BOO! Belvedere hurries out of the ring. Scruff motions for the bell, it rings and we’re underway~
Smith: Dadbod was distracted and Bob took advantage!
Hood: Dadbod’s in over his head, Smith. Portals, pistol pleasuring, and, worst of all, Who’Re’s giant boobs hanging over that rope that’s securing her to the chair. This is a guy who gets a little wild after two Michelob Ultras at Chilis. This is sensory overload.
~Bob raises up and headbutts Dadbod in the forehead...he grabs Dadbod and slings him out of the corner, into the air and onto the mat, center of the ring. Dadbod hits HARD. Bob sees the Tamika poster that he ‘took’ from the fan...he picks it up and rips it in half, tossing it out of the ring. More booing from the fans~
Smith: Well, that’s a little bit on the rude side.
Hood: That poster is slick, Smith. Bob could have slipped on it and injured himself...same with Dadbod. He’s just ensuring the safety of the ring.
Smith: Right.
~Dadbod sits up, his back to Bob. Bob drops to one knee and grabs Dadbod’s head, twisting and turning his neck. Dadbod yells out, wincing, trying to get free, but Bob’s strength is too much. I mean, Bob lifts weights and logs and shit. Dadbod curls 12 ounce bottles while burning hamburger meat on the grill. One is not like the other. Speaking of which, we cut to an Omaha Buffalo Wild Wings to find Dadbod’s neighbors in attendance. A bunch of balloons are set up and there seems to be cake, in case he wins. The mood is not good...they look on with sad expressions~
Smith: I’m told the residents of Dadbod’s community received some derision from OCW fans for being at an Applebees last month. So, they decided to add a bit of edge to their game.
Hood: So they went to fuckin B-Dubs? LOL
Smith: B-Dubs is very edgy.
Hood: Say no more.
~Bob sees the camera lassoed around Dadbod’s neck via an Irish lanyard. He rips it off and kicks Dadbod in the back, sending him rolling forward. Grenier looks at the camera and takes a picture of Dadbod, as he’s on the mat, wincing in pain. Bob then drops the camera on the mat and stomps on it, shattering the camera into pieces. Dadbod looks on...the photos...the family photos...the memories...an empty space inside a photo album that WILL NOT be filled. TRINA WON’T BE HAPPY. He begins to rise from the mat, full of fury~
Smith: Uh oh, Dadbod is angry.
Hood: Family photos are important to people like Dadbod. To people like Grenier, they are fuckin lame.
Smith: Is that why you refused to take a photo with me in front of The Temple Bar?
Hood: Some people see a cool bar and think “I want to take a picture in front of that place” others see the same bar and say “I need a drink.” I’m the latter, not the former.
~Dadbod punches Bob in the gut, from his knees. Bob stumbles back. Dadbod grabs the largest piece of camera he can find and he stands, smashing it into Grenier’s head. Grenier falls to the side, into the ropes. We quickly cut to the Omaha Buffalo Wild Wings where Dadbod’s friends look on, slightly horrified...WHAT’S BECOME OF DADBOD? USING A WEAPON? Dadbod drops the piece of camera and he runs forward with a boot to the side of Grenier’s face!!! Bob leans half out of the ring, over the middle rope~
Smith: Look at Dadbod go!
Hood: I’d rather not. I’m not sure what’s more embarrassing about this match...the fact a literal shit box is outside the ring or that Dadbod is on offense.
~Dadbod grabs Bob’s legs and he drags him back into the ring. He turns Bob over and holds onto Grenier’s legs. The fans go wild. Dadbod starts to lock in a Figure Four...but he pauses. He tries one leg, then another...he turns around...he’s seen it performed on TV thousands of times but never done it himself. How does this thing go again?~
Smith: Dadbod! Don’t try a move you haven’t practiced.
Hood: He can’t even lock in a Figure Four. GET THIS GUY OUTTA HERE
~Dadbod THINKS he has it...he spins around Grenier’s leg, turning his back to Bob once more. This time, Bob places his free foot into Dadbod’s ass and shoves forward, sending Dadbod stumbling into the ropes. Dadbod turns around…Bob is on one knee…Dadbod charges ahead but is quickly taken over with a simple armdrag!! Dadbod hits the mat hard...Bob holds on with an armbar, twisting at Dadbod’s shoulder~
Smith: Dang it! He almost had it!
Hood: He didn’t ‘almost’ have it. He was fuckin around like a moron. Got what he deserved.
Smith: C’mon, Dadbod! Don’t lose that twinkle...that spark! You can still win this!
~Grenier twists and Dadbod yells...Grenier grits his teeth “Can’t believe I’ve gotta wrestle this guy on pay per view.” He twists and contorts. Outside, ZyBALDa nods and gives Bob a thumb up. He slowly opens the door to the PORTAL POTTY and through the portal we see Poblano standing, arms folded, with Zybala and Who’Re tied up behind him. He nods and wiggles his eyebrows at Grenier while stroking his plush whale doll. Grenier is like “Okay, kinda weird, but whatever.” Dadbod kicks his legs out and he wraps them around the bottom rope, forcing a break~
Smith: This is such a weird match. Why does Poblano stroke that plush whale?
Hood: That’s where he hides the owl statuette which holds the soul of RAGANA...haven’t you been paying attention?
Smith: I try not to, honestly. But doesn’t ZyBALDa have the owl statuette?
Hood: Good point. So I guess he just likes stroking the plush fabric
~Bob tries to pull Dadbod to the center of the ring, but Dadbod wraps his body around the bottom rope. Grenier yanks and pulls, but not luck. Frustrated, he backs up and charges forward, throwing a boot at Dadbod...but Dadbod moves!!! Grenier’s leg flies through the ropes, sending him recklessly into the ropes where he crashes on the outside. The crowd goes wild. Poblano looks on from the portal and stomps his foot...we see a few of his nicer items start to disappear~
Smith: It appears that whenever Dadbod gains an advantage, Poblano’s future weakens.
Hood: This is so back to the future.
Smith: GREAT SCOTT
~Dadbod rolls back into the ring. He gets to his feet and looks around...he’s never really been in control before...what does he do? He sees Bob stand outside the ring, so Dadbod has an imaginary lightbulb flash over his head and he charges forward. He sprints as fast as he can...he reaches the ropes and he begins to slow down, nervous about pulling the move off...he dives through...but he catches the ropes and he kinda just spills out in front of Bob. Bob looks down and shakes his head. Poblano laughs from within the portal as an original work by Van Gogh appears on the wall next to Zybala~
Smith: Gotta commit, Dadbod! COMMIT
Hood: Can’t half ass a suicide dive. That’s usually how you suicide yourself.
Smith: Indeed.
~Bob grabs Dadbod and hooks him in a Full Nelson. He drags him to the Portal Potty. ZyBALDa chuckles, rubbing the handle to his gun that’s secured by the struggling waist band of his sweat pants. Bob looks at Poblano and offers him a free shot. Poblano smiles and steps through the Portal Potty and into the current time period!! He rears back with his plush whale and smashes Dadbod in the face with it. Doesn’t do much, it’s a child’s doll. So, Bob lifts Dadbod up and delivers a Full Nelson Slam onto the steel steps! The fans BOOOO! We cut to the Buffalo Wild Wings in Omaha...the patrons and shaking their heads and covering their children’s eyes. A sign that says “Drinks are free if Dadbod wins” has never loomed larger. Poblano stomps on Dadbod with Grenier watching on~
Smith: Poblano has entered into our time by stepping through a port o potty which is acting as a portal. I cannot believe I just said that.
Hood: THE PORTAL POTTY
Smith: Stop trying to get that over.
Hood: Oh, it’s gonna get over.
~Bob points through the Portal Potty as a first edition copy of The Bible has found its way next to Zybala. Poblano laughs, “That’s got to be worth a lot!” Grenier cannot argue. Things are going great. He grabs Dadbod and slings him into the ring. Bob walks, casually up the steps...Poblano says, “You’re gonna be a rich man, Bob.” Grenier enters into the ring...Dadbod fights to his feet. Poblano gasps and turns around, the first edition Bible is gone. “Shit,” he curses...that was a super rare item. Dadbod boots Grenier. He spins Grenier around and tries to return the favor, locking in a Full Nelson...but Grenier immediately breaks out of it and throws a sharp, back elbow into Dadbod’s face. Dadbod stumbles back. Grenier turns around and runs Dadbod over with a lariat. Dadbod hits hard. The fans all sit and grumble...this seems like pulling for a team that’s down 20. Hopeless. Poblano turns around and he sees an encased vile of Abraham Lincoln’s sperm appear next to Zybala. Zybala cringes. Poblano laughs, “Yes!”~
Smith: I didn’t even know some of these items existed, Hood.
Hood: Nobody did.
~Grenier stands over Dadbod and kicks at him. Poblano turns around and sees a pay stub signed by original OCW owner Dean proving that he, in fact, once paid somebody. Poblano gasps, “Now this...this is the genuine article.” He turns, “Wrap it up, Bob! We can’t lose this item!” Grenier doesn’t really like being told what to do...but he grits his teeth and pulls Dadbod up. He hoists him onto his shoulders for Hollinger Park Hangman~
Smith: And it’s all over.
Hood: Dean actually PAID someone? Unbelievable.
Smith: I mean I never got a check from him.
Hood: That must have been made out to Syren. I can’t imagine him paying anybody else.
~ZyBALDa yells out “OWL IS NIGHT!!!” holding the Owl Statuette high as the clouds gather and thunder rolls. Poblano begins to play his plush whale doll like it’s a guitar, rocking his head ala Hollywood Hogan in the NWO. Zybala and Who’Re lower their heads inside the portal, resigned to their fate. Dadbod senses a change in the atmosphere…he hears what sounds like the Goddess Ragana laugh...he reaches down and he starts to noogie Grenier’s head!!! Grenier is like “WHAT THE FUCK!” He drops Dadbod and stumbles around, holding his scalp. The clouds dissipate...Poblano stops celebrating...he turns and sees Dean’s paystub and Lincoln’s sperm GONE. He looks back in the ring, shook. “DAMNIT GRENIER, BEAT HIM!”~
Smith: Dadbod fights back with the dreaded noogie!
Hood: Just in time, too. Shit was getting spooky.
Smith: Indeed...and now that Dean paystub is gone.
Hood: Still don’t think it was a real thing.
~Grenier turns around and goes after Dadbod...he lifts his foot and brings it down for a stomp, but Dadbod moves!!! Grenier’s leg hits the ring and it jams his knee!! He stumbles...Dadbod rolls him over!!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!!!
Smith: Whoa! Dadbod nearly stole it!
Hood: Shit...Poblano’s losing so much money right now.
~Through the portal we see Zybala’s ropes begin to blink. The ropes binding him to the chair. His eyes widen and he yells, “YOU CAN DO IT, DADBOD!! IT’S WORKING!” Dadbod hurries to his feet, so does Grenier...Grenier rushes at Dadbod but Dadbod takes him over with a bodyslam!!! Both rush back to their feet...Grenier takes a wild swing, but Dadbod ducks and lifts Grenier up, dropping him over his knee with a backbreaker!!!! Grenier lands hard, arching his back in pain. Zybala’s ropes are nearly gone. Who’Re’s are firm. She looks at Zybala’s ropes like “what about me? SERIOUSLY” Classic OCW, baby! Grenier returns to his feet but Dadbod is waiting...Grenier throws a punch, Dadbod catches it his twists Bob’s arm, turns him around, grabs him by the head and drops him with an Inverted DDT!!! Grenier is down!! The fans are going wild!! “DADBOD! DADBOD! DADBOD!” The Buffalo Wild Wings in Omaha shows all of the local residents standing and clapping. Zybala’s ropes are gone...he stands up, kicking his chair away. He moves toward the portal but Who’Re is still tied up...she asks for help and, well, because he’s a good guy, he helps~
Smith: Zybala is free and he’s helping out Who’Re!
Hood: Funny how her ropes just, ya know, remained intact. Almost like she likes being tied up.
Smith: HOOD