OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! November 14th 2022
FROM: Nassau Coliseum
Long Island, NY

~ The Massacre Intro video starts to play as “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns’N’Roses plays in the background as we get a shot of BOB holding their OCW Tag Team Titles up in the air, Lissandra kissing A-Lister Dylan Thomas, followed by a shot of Mike Zybala stealing his shoes back out of The Big Bifford’s locker room, Harmon Egan holding his OCW Craze Title above his head, Tearra Skye hitting a Swanton on Dylan Thomas, Sahara with the TransAtlantic title around her waist yelling at her Reservoir Dogs, Victoria Strader microphone in hand laying down the law, Mike Mason making the women Audibly Ovulate, and finally settling on a battered PIC holding the OCW Title high. We switch from video to the OCW faithful inside the historic OCW Arena as the camera pans around, catching signs from the Faithful.~

I’M THADDIES BADDIE)
TNFL TIT-FUCKING-BIFFORD
WHERE’S ACETUN WESTSANDER?
WILL EDGE FOR FOOT PICS
BALL-BALL LIKES MEN-MEN
NICKLEMAN GAME CANCELLED
WE MISS OUTCAST

~The OCWtron flashes and a ring of fire appears on the screen. The crowd are on their feet in anticipation. ~

Smith: We finally get to see the Phoenix speak after weeks of teasing.

Hood: Well let's hope he has something good to say.

~ A figure appears through the curtain as the crowd gives. A huge pop! ~

Hood: What in the hell is this? It's the Stranger!!!

Smith: What's he doing out here? I thought he retired.

~ The OCW faithful is going nuts. They begin to chant " TLS. TLS!!"

Smith: The OCW faithful showing their love for the man who has been carrying the OCW banner all year.

Hood: They'll cheer for anything.

~ TLS slides into the ring and waits for the crowd to simmer. He begins to speak. ~

TLS: S.A. Sachs wrote. " Hope rises like a Phoenix from the ashes of a shattered dream." The last time you saw me, I was on my back pinned on the mat by the man that would eventually become the world Champion. I was done. I was done fighting. I spent the past year carrying the OCW banner Strong and Pround. I stood at the front lines the war against JPD and Ray Ray. A war that they eventually lost. I spoke up while others were too afraid to speak, or bit their tongue so they could play nice with the enemy. I was tired of fighting so I stepped away. In the 3 months that I was gone , wrestlers who calimed to be OCW royalty left while others turned their back on the OCW and joined the enemy. So I had to come back.

Hood: He probably ran out of money, lost it all on FTX. That's why he's back

Smith: That's not true. His Babysitter's Club business is thriving.

TLS: For years I've worn this mask. For years I've called myself "the Stranger". But it's time that I acknowledge that the OCW will always be my home. And I'll do whatever it takes to protect this home. And it starts with taking this mask off. I can't be a Stranger in my own home.

~ TLS slowly peels the mask off as the crowd grows silent. ~

Hood: He'll probably be in the clown make-up. To be honest the mask Suite him better.

Smith: I liked... whoa wait a minute. There's no make up on. It's his actual face!!

~ TLS tosses the Stranger mask into the crowd and stands in the center of the ring as the crowd cheers him.~

TLS: 11. 14. 22. A Phoenix Rises from the ashes. 11. 14. 22. The Lost Soul comes home. And on November 27th, I'm winning the Rumble I the Bronx!!!

~ TLS drops the mic and exits through crowd as the OCW faithful chant " Welcome Home!" and this graphic appears on the jumbotron. ~

Hood: I wish he'd put the mask back on.

Smith: The Lost Soul is back and he's here to win the Rumble!!!!

~ We cut backstage to see Victoria Strader walking down the halls. She stops outside a pair of double doors which read "Office of Mike Zybala". She sighs, not knowing what to expect or why she was summoned. She opens the door and is shocked at what she sees. Firstly, the area is easily triple the space of her office. Secondly, most of the space is filled with arcade games such as The Simpsons, X-Men, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and others. Third and perhaps the oddest, she sees Zybala playing bumper-pool with The Big Bifford. Both men are dressed like stereotypical 80s preppy men, complete with a sweater neatly tied around the neck and shoulders. Like proper gentlemen. Biff's entourage are gathered as well, watching the game intently. Strader clears her throat, which causes Zybala to miss his shot. Zybala looks at Victoria. ~

Zybala: Victoria, thank you for coming. Though the timing was a bit disadvantageous for me.

Victoria Strader: I don’t care what’s disadvantageous for you. I have a company to run. What do you want?

~ Zybala looks a bit flustered at this and a little annoyed. He quickly composes himself. ~

Zybala: Careful commish. I may not have Thad ownership, but I do have ownership. I wanted to bring up something that I found while cleaning my desk.

Victoria Strader: Yeah, at ten percent I have more power than you with the Board backing me.

~ He ignores the response, oblivious to the reality of it all. Zybala goes over to his desk while Biff still shoots the balls, sinking each one like a pro. Zybala grabs a piece of paper from his desk and walks back to Strader. As he hands her the paper, Biff's people cheer. Zybala whips around. ~

Biff: And the first round of the gentlemen games goes to me! The shoes will be mine! And I believe I won the side bet….

~ Zybala grumbles as he sees all of Biff's balls gone from the table. Zybala reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of coins and gives them to Bifford. Bifford hands out coins to his people who then go to various arcade machines. Strader looks at all of it. ~

Victoria Strader: This better not have been paid by us.

Zybala: Relax. It was all my money. I even pay the electric bill here since my office uses the most electricity. It keeps Thad out of my hair. But I really think you should read the paper.

~ Strader sneers, not appreciating being told what to do, but reads the paper out of morbid curiosity. Her facial expression turns into one of shock and horror. She looks up at Zybala.~

Victoria Strader: This can't be true. It can't be LEGAL!

Zybala: Trust me, it is. It was drawn up when I was 100% owner so it's set in stone. But don't worry, I won't use it…. Yet. I know you got plans and wanna see if they succeed. I'm a nice boss who wants to see his employees succeed. Now, if you'll excuse me, the TMNT game is calling my name.

Victoria Strader: You are not my boss. Never have been, never will be.

~ Zybala leaves Strader who is more annoyed at the inconvenience that is Mike Zybala as he goes to join Biff. Victoria crumples the paper and tosses it to the ground ~

DONNIE HARRIS (0-0) VS RENE MCRAEE (BIG OILY LOSER)

Belvedere: the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first!

~ Become Wrath by Dance With the Dead starts to play as Donnie Harris comes out on the stage. ~

Belvedere: Hailing from Salt Lake City... DONNIE HARRIS!!!!!!!!

~ Donnie makes his way into the ring, and looks disgusted at how oiled up Rene is. It is gross. ~

Smith: I forgot how oily this guy is. Last time I saw him was the TLS rolling him up in Vegas.

Hood: Oh right, that was gross.

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Donnie goes to grapple him but the oily bastard slips away. Rene laughs as Donnie stops to think. He comes running in at Rene and Donnie falls back with RIDE THE LIGHTNING(Shining Wizard)! He covers, but carefully not to get baby oil all over himself. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner... DONNIE HARRIS!!!!!!!!

Smith: Smart having a finisher doesn’t involve touching the opponent.

Hood: Yeah, better than what TLS did to himself against this guy.

Smith: True enough! We have another in ring debut next with Axis who came out last week back in Key West announcing his intentions to take it to the top!

Hood: Well, if Zeus gives him a hard time, he’s not gonna last here.

AXIS (0-0) VS ZEUS (BIG LOSER)

Belvedere: The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing next...

~ The lights go dark in the arena. The acoustics of "Zombie" fill every loudspeaker in the building. Suddenly, the metal part kicks in, and the OCWtron is lit up, slightly revealing a silhouette on the entrance ramp that turns out to be Axis doing his signature "Quadruple Horns" pose. Axis calmly yet menacingly walks down the ramp towards the ring where Zeus is already waiting for him. He glares at his Zeus, then steps in the ring. ~

Belvedere: From Davenport, TX he is AXIS!!!!!!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: Axis ready to make his mark!

Hood: Against Zeus. This match is already over!

~ Axis looks over Zeus as the enhancement talents bounces one foot to another motioning for Axis to “Bring It” and that was a bad idea. Zeus charges and BAM! AWOOGA KICK(modified roundhouse to the head)!!!!! Axis shakes his head and covers. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner via pinfall... AXIS!!!!!!!!!

Smith: Well, that was quick!

Hood: You are surprised?

Smith: Well... no. Good point.

Hood: Up next is my fave! Thaddeus Fuckin’ Duke is in action!

Smith: Against Victoria Strader’s ex-girlfriend,no less.

Hood: That makes sense now!

THADDEUS DUKE VS MAD MAX (BIG LOSER)

~ Massacre returns and Mad Max is pacing the ring before the camera switches to the entrance way. The Tron lights up and lion patters across the screen before stopping and belting out a loud roar. The heart of Duke Nation comes alive in anticipation as Leo steps through the curtain. ~

Leo: Dudes and dudettes, lil dudes and lil dudettes…

Hood: The incredibly talented Leo, ladies and gentlemen!

Smith: Talented at what?

Hood: Shut up Smith.

Leo: Long Island, New York, are you ready to rock!?

~ Cheap pop. ~

Leo: It gives me great pleasure to introduce to you, the man that’ll deliver the Moneyshot to that super hot Amazon in the ring…

Smith: Wait. A what?

Hood: A Moneyshot!

Leo: Hailing from…

OCW FAITHFUL: NEW YORK CITY!!

Smith: It seems like a very pro-Duke crowd!

Leo: Your LIONHEART! THADDEUS! DUUUKE!

~ As that familiar riff hits the sound system, the Coliseum is rocking. ~

Hood: Of course it is, Smith! Don’t sound so shocked!

~ Thaddeus Duke emerges from backstage to a roar from his hometown crowd. Looking like he’s about to shoot to the ring, he stops suddenly on stage. Scanning the crowd at the masses cheering and loving him up, he nods with a smile, but steps aside and points to the entrance way. A few seconds later, young Frankie Duke emerges with Cyrus Braddock hot on his heels. ~

Hood: The apple of the Lionhearts eye!

Smith: This crowd is deafening, Hood! Frankie might be more over in New York than his dad!

~ Frankie stops on stage beside his dad. The two look at each other for a moment, before each looks down at their own right hands. The two Duke’s throw up the ‘I love you” hand sign to a huge pop before the duo heads toward the ring. Thad and Frankie spend some time at ringside slapping the hands holding up Duke Nation before Thad sets the boy up on commentary. ~

Smith: Kids been traumatized here in OCW but sure, let’s put him on commentary Thad!

Hood: He’s got Cyrus Braddock and 15 thousand supporters at his back, Smith. I like his chances.

Frankie: Sup guys!?

Hood: What’s happenin’ little Duke?

Frankie: Oh you know, just watching the GOAT.

~ Thad is in the ring with his white leather Lionheart jacket off. He stretches out with the ropes as the referee calls for the bell. The Lionheart still plays to the crowd a bit and Mad Max takes advantage of the situation by jumping him from behind. The Amazonian woman clubs him across his back and shoulders a few times. Placing her hand beneath his chin, she lifts him upright before lighting him up with a knife edge chop across his chest, backing him to the ropes. ~

Smith: What a chop there from Mad Max!

Frankie: Oooo you know that stung.

Hood: Frankie, you excited to have your dad back in the ring?

Frankie: Yeah. I dunno why he stayed away so long to be honest.

Hood: You, apparently.

~ Max sends Thad to the far side ropes, but Thad reverses, sending her across instead. On the rebound, Thad ducks down but Max puts on the brakes and sends a kick to his chest. He pops upright immediately. Max sends him to the corner. She chases him in but he breaks out of the corner with a devastating back elbow to the face, sending Max down immediately. ~

Hood: That right there is an example of what makes the Lionheart so good!

Frankie: I mean, it’s just a jo… I mean, enhancement talent, Hood. There’s no reason to get that excited.

Smith: Finally! A man with some brains beside me on commentary!

Frankie: Shut up, Smith.

Hood: Ha!

~ Thad reaches down, lifting Max to her feet before sending her to the ropes. On the rebound, Thad reaches down, lifts Max into the air, spins, and plants her on the mat with a ring shaking spinebuster. ~

Smith: Double A Spinebuster!

Hood: Best spinebuster in the game right there!

Frankie: I wonder how much that hurts.

~ Initially, Thad debates going for a cover but thinks better of it as he pops back to his feet. On his feet, he scans the crowd for a moment and points to the sky inviting a huge pop from the crowd. The Lionheart makes his way to the apron and hops to the top turnbuckle where he calibrates the distance and stands before leaping from the type. ~

Frankie: Flyin’ Heart incoming!

~ Thad lands a Savage elbow to the ample chest of ad Max. ~

Hood: Flyin’ Heart, I like that!

Smith: Thad Duke with the hook of the leg!

1!

2!

Hood: Max kicks out in the nick of time there!

Frankie: She’s toast.

Smith: It ain’t over ‘til its over, Frankie!

Frankie: Oh it’s over. I know what’s coming next.

Smith: How?

Frankie: That’s my dad, I live with him. I was in the gym with him when he was planning for this match.

~ Back to his feet, Thad scans the roaring New York crowd and steps to the apron. With his back to the fans, he starts to prepare himself to slingshot as he waits for Max to get to her feet. As Max begins to get upright, Thad throws up the “I love you” hand gesture before slingshot flipping into the ring. In one fluid motion, he lands on his feet and bursts forward, turning Mad Max inside out with a nasty lariat. ~

Frankie: MONEYSHOT BABY!

Hood: Oh man! That looked devastating!

Smith: Thad with the cover!

1!

2!

3!

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: Thaddeus Duke wins his Massacre debut tonight in front of the friendly Long Island crowd!

Hood: It’s the first of many, Smith!

~As Hart Attack plays over the stadium sound system, Thad exits the ring, all smiles, to meet and greet his supporters. ~

Smith: Frankie, did you enjoy yourself?

Frankie: Yeah this was kinda fun.

~ Thad nears the commentary table and asks Frankie something. ~

Frankie: Yeah, I’m ready.

~ Frankie stands up from his chair before Hood grabs his arm. ~

Hood: Before you go, Frankie, you know Sahara is pretty hot right?

Smith: Hood, you gotta be kidding me. That his mother!

Hood: Shut up Smith.

Frankie: Yeah I mean, a lot of people think so. Especially her.

Hood: You think you could score me a pair of her…

~SMACK! ~

Smith: Holy Jesus!

~An angered Thaddeus Duke wallops Hood in his face with a vicious open hand slap. Hood falls to the floor with his hand covering his face. ~

Thad: He’s only 12, Hood!

~Thad removes the headset from Frankie and the two Duke’s with Cyrus Braddock in tow, begin to make their way toward the back.

Smith: Understandably so, the Lionheart took exception to what Hood was just asking Frankie and slapped him all the way to Boston!

TEARRA SKYE (2-0) VS ALEXANDRA CALAWAY (4-6)

Belvedere: The following contest is for a shot at the OCW Craze Championship...

~ ‘Give It Away’ starts to play throughout the arena with the lights flashing in a range of neon colours. ~

Belvedere: Introducing First…

Belvedere: hailing from Pierrefonds, Québec weighing in at 135lbs... accompanied by her tag team partner and manager Nikki Walker… she is… TEARRA SKYE!!!!

~ Tearra sprints to the ring, jumps to the apron and flips over the top rope, thrusting her fists in the air as she rises up while Nikki takes position in the far corner on the floor. ~

~ The lights go down and "Blow" Eva Under Fire ft. Spencer Charnas of ICE NINE KILLS starts to play. The arena is filled with Red and lights and fog. The Silhouette of Alexandra can be seen at the top of the ramp. She poses on the top of the ramp and as the beat drops, she starts to make her way down the ramp, towards the ring. Stopping halfway down the ramp, she stops looking out over the crowd, before continuing on. She smirks seeing some of the signs people made, a cocky smirk crosses her face. ~

Belvedere: And their other opponent... From Dallas, Texas.... ALEXANDRA CALAWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~ Finishing her walk down the ramp, she climbs onto the ring apron and up onto the turnbuckle. She slips into the ring and poses on the ropes, leaning forward on the ropes, sometimes talking shit with people in front row as she looks to Tearra Skye. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Alexandra and Tearra circle each other and lock up. Tearra powers Calaway into the corner and Gruff calls for a clean break, which Tearra provides. Again, they lock up and Tearra pushes Alexandra to the corner. Again, she breaks cleanly. Tearra stands in the middle of the ring, looking smug as Alexandra comes out to face her. She stares up at her and Calaway slaps her across the face. ~

Hood: Alexandra is letting Tearra know she wants to face Egan at Rumble in The Bronx!

Smith: Calaway showing a mean streak that’s been hinted at before.

~ Tearra whips Alexandra into the ropes and tries to clothesline her as she comes back. Alexandra ducks under and rebounds with a flying cross body, but Tearra drops to the mat and Alexandra sails over her, bouncing off the mat. Tearra springs to her feet and pounces on Alexandra, landing with an elbow to her spine. Tearra grabs both of Calaway's arms and plants a foot on her back, applying a bow and arrow submission. Tearra moves her foot and pulls Alexandra to her feet by the arm, only to take her back down with a short clothesline. Tearra puts one foot on Alexandra's chest for a lazy cover.

1!

KICK OUT!!!

Hood: Tearra should know there's no way she was going to get a pinfall that soon.

Smith: She is still a rookie in ever way!

Hood: Rookies gonna learn the hard way.

Smith: That they are.

~ Tearra puts Calaway in a side headlock in the middle of the ring. Alexandra elbows out of it and whips Tearra into the rope. She comes back and sends her down with a shoulder block. She leans down to pick Alexandra up, but she jabs her in the throat. She staggers back and Alexandra gets to her feet. She jumps up and hooks her legs for a hurricanrana, but Tearra grabs the ropes and doesn't flip over. Instead, she hooks her arms around her and drops backwards for a modified pin. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!

Hood: It was still too early to go for a win, but that Flame may have been the difference maker in this match.

~ Alexandra is still down on the mat, so Tearra climbs up to the top turnbuckle and comes down with a 450 Splash. Alexandra rolls out of the way at the last second and Tearra clutches her elbow. Alexandra gets to her feet first and sweeps Skye's feet out from under her as she tries to stand. She quickly drops down and starts hammering her with punches. Tearra tries to squirm away, but Alexandra grabs her hair and won't let her escape. She finally manages to shove her away and quickly scoots backwards into the corner. Before she can pull herself to her feet, Alexandra runs in and hits her in the face with a dropkick. ~

Smith: Calaway showing she wants and needs this!

~ Alexandra puts Tearra in an arm bar, but she rolls through it and applies her own, but Alexandra flips backwards, putting Tearra into a hammerlock. Tearra elbows Alexandra in the head once, twice, then she ducks down and hooks her arm while spinning around and turns it into a backslide. ~

1!

KICKOUT!

~ Tearra rolls to her feet, but Alexandra springs forward with a shoulder block, sending the champion back into the corner. Two knee lifts later and Tearra is sagging. Alexandra grabs a front face lock, spins around to the second turnbuckle and hits a tornado DDT. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ Alexandra slides out of the ring and grabs Tearra's legs and pulls her towards the ring post. She takes her left leg and slams it repeatedly against the post. She slides back into the ring and grabs Tearra's arms and pulls her out to the middle of the ring. She heads to the top rope and comes down with a big elbow drop. OHHHH YEAHHHHHHHHH ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Hood: Tearra has to get back in this thing in a hurry if she wants to earn a shot at the Craze title.

~ Tearra is trying to get to her feet, but Alexandra stands in front of her, grabbing her head. She shoots up, hitting her with a shoulder to the midsection. She grabs her head and tries to take Alexandra down with a Russian leg sweep, but she hooks her leg and twists over to hit a stiff DDT. ~

Smith: WHOA! She spiked her hard!

1!

2!!

3!!!!!

Hood: She did it!

Smith: No! Look, Tearra's foot is on the bottom rope!

~ Alexandra is on her feet, raising her arms in victory, but Gruff is holding up two fingers in her face. She is screaming at the ref that it was a three count. Tearra gets to her feet behind her and runs forward, spearing both her and Gruff into the corner. Gruff slumps down, out cold. Since the ref cushioned the blow, Alexandra is up quickly and starts trading punches with the Tearra. The go back and forth until Tearra blocks on and kicks her in the stomach and gets her leg up for ROAD TO METHODONE! Tearra drops down and covers. ~

OCW Faithful: 1...2...3!

~ Tearra looks around and just now notices that Gruff is out cold. She slams her hands on the mat in frustration. ~

Smith: I can't believe it! Tearra should have just won the match!

~ Tearra slaps Gruff a couple of times, and she looks like he's starting to come around, so Tearra heads back over and covers again. ~

OCW Faithful: 1...2...3!

Smith: Oh, this isn’t how Skye had hoped it would go! ~ Tearra gets up, cursing under her breath and sees Gruff, still sprawled out on the mat. She heads over and nudges Gruff, but the man doesn't move. Tearra throws her hands up and heads back to Alexandra. She bends down to pick her up, but she hits her with a low blow. Yes, it still hurts for women, misogynistic jerks. Tearra crumples to her knees, then all the way down to the mat. Alexandra gets to her feet, rather unsteadily, and grabs Tearra's right leg and puts her in a figure four leg lock. Tearra fights and claws and slowly gets to the ropes, but Alexandra won't break the hold since Gruff is still out. Tearra screams at her, but this just causes her to pull down harder on her leg, and she lets out a fresh scream of pain. Tearra slaps the mat with her hand, tapping out, but Alexandra still won't let her go. Calaway sees Gruff is still down and lets Skye out of the hold to wake him up. ~

Smith: Calaway now trying to get Gruff up!

Hood: The old hobo is starting to wake now. Tearra is back to her feet and regaining herself!

~Tearra and Alexandra stare at the other, before they begin circling, Tearra doing it with a limp. Each is looking for a moment in which to attack the other, they finally lock up. Alexandra with the advantage as she backs Tearra into the corner, but Gruff is FINALLY UP to break it up. Tearra slaps Alexandra across the left cheek, and Alexandra pounces on her foe in this match. Instead of slapping she delivers a right hand, forearm shot, right hand, right hand, and another right hand and she ends the combination with a jagged elbow to her chin; she follows this up with a repeat of the combination. Tearra is reeling backwards with each blow, but being up against the corner, her body has nowhere to go so her head bounces back and forth. Alexandra yells something unintelligible at Tearra, but the words are not clear enough to be distinguishable to the microphones in the camera and Skye slaps her across the face. ~

Smith: Alexandra not taking that slap too lightly.

Hood: Tearra should have known better.

~ Tearra is unable to defend herself against Alexandra's onslaught of offense as she continues to pound away at her face. Gruff is finally able to get between the two of them and stop the closed fists from Alexandra; she nods and backs away. Tearra shuffles out of the corner into an Irish whip from Alexandra, Tearra reverses the maneuver and now Alexandra is into the ropes. She charges back with a head of steam, but is taken down as Tearra delivers a clothesline she falls down for a pin, but Alexandra kicks out too quickly. These two-stand toe to toe in the very center of the wrestling ring and lock up one more time. Tearra backs Alexandra up before using the lock up to knee Alexandra in the gut and lift her up over her head in a sort of suplex; they both go down. Tearra is up and on top of Alexandra throwing knife edge chops and she is quickly, but firmly, backed into the corner. Knife edge chop, knife edge chop and the chest of Alexandra is beginning to get red where her top allows skin to show. Tearra has a look in her face that we have rarely seen as she continues the chops; she places a forearm to Alexandra's temple and now she is the one rocking back. Tearra grins as she delivers one more knife edge chop. Tearra lowers herself placing a knee into her midsection as she doubles over, she swings her around with a neckbreaker in the corner. She is too close to the ropes for a pin, so she drags her into the middle of the ring and begins to stomp away on her body. ~

Hood: Tearra showing that she is still a woman to be weary of.

Smith: With authority too!

~ Alexandra reaches up grabbing the ankle of Tearra and twisting the joint in her grasp; Tearra groans falling to the mat as Alexandra pulls her foot out from under her. Alexandra is up to her knees as Tearra is still falling to the mat and she is on her like a hungry dog on food.

Smith: While still having a few technical holds, this has turned out into a fight.

Hood: And both very capable of winning a fight.

Smith: Alexandra definitely able to do that after holding many titles outside OCW but she is close to getting a shot at one of OCW’s historical championships!

~ Alexandra picks Tearra up to her feet placing her in a very basic behind the back wristlock. She lifts her up into the air and twisting with her in her arms falls back driving her shoulder into the ring canvas she holds onto her wrist and pulling her back up to her feet, drives her down again. She stands back, quickly catching her breath before turning on the after burners in her attack. She is red faced from turning on a faster pace and Tearra is red faced from holding in the pain. Alexandra lifts Tearra to her feet and Irish whips her into the corner with high powered velocity; the force causes her to bounce back out of the corner. Alexandra charges at her foe, but she manages to bend over with a back body drop to Alexandra who lands on the apron on her feet looking stunned. Tearra taking the opportunity charges with a clothesline and Alexandra ducks shoulder blocking Tearra in the stomach. She doubles over and Alexandra hits a nearly perfect sunset flip for a pin. ~

1!

2!! KICKOUT!

~ Tearra kicks her feet wildly and causes the pin to break up, but Alexandra is very pleased with herself and awaits Tearra's return to her vertical base. She stands back up, with her back to Alexandra, she charges at her opponent. She slows her advance, Tearra not yet knowing she has reached her feet. She is nailed from behind with a forearm shot that staggers her slightly. Calaway tucks Skye’s head between her legs and hoists Skye up and hits the APOCALYPSE(Last Ride)!!!!!!!!! ~

Smith: And she covers!

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!!!

~ Tearra kicks out but a split second too late. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner and new number one contender to the OCW Craze Championship.... ALEXANDRA CALAWAY!!!!!!!!!

Smith: Much needed win for Calaway and her confidence!

Hood: Well, lucky For Calaway that Gruff was out cold for a while.

Smith: Well, to quote you: A win is a win.

Hood: Man, look how defeated Skye looks as Nikki helps her to the back.

Smith: Tearra Skye is just getting started, hopefully she enters into the Rumble on the 27th!

ACF (0-1) VS ZYBALA (29-15)

~ The lights in the arena go down a spotlight shines down on Belvedere. ~

Belvedere: The following is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first... ALL CONSUMING FIRE!!!!!!!

~ The Lights go out and the arena is completely dark. Flames form a circle at the top of the entrance ramp and All Consuming Fire begins to play. ~

All consuming fire burn.

Lord ignite the rage.
Flowing through me.
Hear your spoken words.
Consume me oh Lord.

~ From the circle and from the ground rises a hooded figured, covered by a black robe, with hood pulled over his head. The figure steps through the flames as they dance around him. The Figure marches to the ring with their head down and covered by the hood. They slide under the bottom rope and slither to the middle of the ring where they rises to their knees and throw their head back to look to the sky as the hood of the robe falls back. The figure slowly rises to their feet and lets the robe fall off of them. The All Consuming Fire snaps their head forward and flames burst from all four corners of the ring. As the flames die down, the music fades and the lights come up. Belvedere decides to let this one go. I don’t blame him. ~

Hood: Zybala is screwed!!

Belvedere: And his opponent hailing from Buffalo, NY and MINORITY owner of OCW... MIKE ZYBALA!

~ “Dreamweaver” plays as Zybala walks out on stage shooting off a number of superkicks.

Smith: The heart of OCW is on his way down to the ring. He wanted a Death Match but Victoria said to me and I quote “I don’t book garbage wrestling matches. Go to Outsiders for Outlaw mudshow bullshit” so it’s just a standard match.

Hood: Death Match or not, Zybala is on his way to his death!

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Mike and ACF stare at each other in the center of the ring, neither man backing down an inch, Mike sticks out his right hand. ACF looks down at the offered hand then back up at Mike as he smacks it away. Collar and elbow in the center of the ring, ACF backs Mike up a few feet before Zybala is able to power back up to a vertical position, he moves him and ACF back to the center of the ring. Mike drops the lockup in favour of a wristlock, into a hammerlock behind ACF's back. Michael slaps his shoulder before turning to have Mike in a hammerlock of his own. ACF chains into a side headlock, but Mike throws him into the ropes where ACF rebounds to the opposite side. Mike ducks his head at the last minute and ACF leaps over the bent over wrestler. Mike spins to face the running ACF, double clothesline takes both men down. ACF sits up immediately, but Mike is quickly up to his feet as well. Mike with a forearm to ACF who falls back into a corner, whip into the opposite corner, ACF reverses and Mike slams into the corner back first. ACF runs in with a leaping body splash, Mike falls forward out of the corner. ACF with a throat thrust sends Mike back into the corner holding at his throat. Mike receives another throat thrust and it is obvious that he is hurting here now. ~

Hood: ACF is relentless in his assault of Zybala.

Smith: Don't count Mike out yet.

~ ACF sets Mike's head over his shoulder in a stunning position and sets him up for a diamond cutter, but Mike shoves him forward preventing the devastating move. ACF stumbles forward and Mike dives with a clothesline to the back of ACF’s head sending him crashing down to the mat. Mike grabs ACF's ankle and applies a heel hook submission, but ACF sensing something rolls over to prevent it from being synched on completely. ACF up against the ropes and here comes Mike with a clothesline that sends both men over the top to crash to the floor. ACF is up quicker than Zybala shoving him face first into the apron and whipping him into the guard railing as the Juff just looks on, not realizing he should be counting. ACF with a high knee lift, but Mike ducks under the knee and ACF crotches himself on the railing that is supposed to protect the fans. Mike jumps up, grabs a quick side headlock, and slams ACF on the ring side of the barrier with a bulldog. Mike with a big right-hand backs ACF up against the ring post, and a second has him dazed. ~

Smith: Mike with something to prove here.

Hood: Yeah, he nearly wet himself in his promo against ACF earlier this week.

Smith: I don’t think that is the case, Hood.

~ Mike rolls ACF into the ring and gets up to his feet pulling ACF up as well. Right hand to ACF's head, but ACF seems to come to life as he delivers a right hand of his own to Zybala. Mike falls backward from the blow, ACF sends another into Mike's temple, ACF with a third and Mike is on wobbly street. ACF with a jab into Mike's ribs, a second into his midsection and he goes back to the ribs with the third. ACF is in a pattern with alternating shots to Mike's ribs and midsection, but Mike slams an elbow into ACF's shoulder blades and the onslaught stops. ACF reaches down and yanks Mike's ankles sending the big man, well one of the big men in this match, down to the canvas. Mike is on his back and ACF with a knee drop onto Mike's left leg, and he grinds an elbow into the side of his knee as well. ACF back up again, delivering a forearm drop into the side of Mike's knee again and Zybala is hurting. ACF goes for another, but Mike slams a boot into ACF's midsection and the All Consuming Fire drops his ankle. Mike rolls back up to his feet and limps a bit as he and ACF come together in the center of the ring. Right from ACF, right from Zybala and ACF stumbles backwards. Short arm clothesline sends ACF to the canvas, but Mike picks him up, swinging neck breaker takes him down immediately. Mike hits the ropes, big leg drop across ACF's throat and Mike is in full control here. He sets himself for a spear, but ACF just sits up. Mike is taken aback, he has seen ACF do this before, but it is amazing to see never the less. ACF gets up, with fire in his eyes as he faces Mike who is in a crouching position now. ACF beckons Mike forward and Zybala obeys the summons. Mike circles as ACF does the same, neither willing to give an opening, but both looking for one. Mike dives forward, ACF with a quick punch to the side of his head drops him to the mat on one knee, ACF with a big boot to nothing as Mike rolls out of the way and takes ACF down with a single leg takedown. ACF with a quick flurry of rights and lefts gets Mike to back up from the barrage. ~

Smith: Both men equally opposing here.

Hood: But ACF is just playing with Mike, he knows he can take Zybala at any moment, like anyone.

~ Both men are back up and circling once again, they dive together with a collar and elbow tie up in the center of the ring, but neither man can gain an advantage here and the lock up is dropped. Lock up again, but again neither man can get an advantage. Both hit the ropes, double clothesline and both are down, but both get back up immediately. They turn to face each other from about three feet away from each other. They go for another collar and elbow, but Mike grabs the wrist and is behind ACF with the quickness expected from him, but ACF drops to one knee and lifts Mike up on his shoulders to spin him around with an airplane spin. Mike shoves himself off of ACF's back and is in the ropes coming back with a shoulder block, ACF steps to the side tripping Mike sending him down on his forearms and knees. Mike rolls over just in time to avoid a big kick from ACF and he trips ACF down to the mat. Mike is back up, but so is ACF they come to blows again in the center of the ring with both sending rights and lefts into the other's head, but neither gains an advantage and neither is willing to stop the fists. After about thirty seconds, they stop and look at each other, red faced and sweaty, but at the sight of each other, they begin again. ACF places a boot into Mike's midsection and goes for a DDT, but Mike shoves him backwards and ACF in the ropes, he comes back with a big boot to Mike's head sending him down anyways. Mike rolls over to his back and ACF is in the ropes for a big leg drop that connects and he covers for a pin, but decides to end this in fashion with a shoulder breaker. He picks Zybala up, steadying him before...~

Smith: ACF with THE DEATH BLOW!!!!!!!!

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: I can't believe it!

Hood: Seeing is believing and you are blind at times my friend.

Belvedere: And your winner... ALL CONSUMING FIRE!!!!!!!!

Smith: I feel bad for Zybala, he had hoped to do more damage.

Hood: Well, this is a lesson. He needs to take this more seriously.

Smith: He does, Hood! I hope he can win at the big event in December that Victoria Strader says he’ll challenge for the title at!

Hood: Yep, title or career. I got my fingers crossed he’s done!

DYLAN THOMAS (18-12) VS MIKE MASON (18-3)

Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one fall and is a non-title match! Introducing first...

~ The opening bars of 'Watch Me Shine' by Fozzy play over the PA system and fans in attendance begin to stand with a subtle 'DT' chant. After a few moments the curtain jerks and through it steps everyone's favourite Hollywood A-Listers arm in arm. Dylan and Lissandra share a kiss at the top of the ramp before nodding and waving to the chanting crowd, grins never leaving their faces. ~

Belvedere: Greenwich CT, now residing in Hollywood CA, weighing in at 225lbs accompanied by his wife Lissandra... the A-LISTER DYLAN THOMAS!!!!!!!!!!

~ They then make their way down the ramp high-fiving lucky nearby fans. A few Dylan Section members near the front row even get a few photos. Dylan walks Lissandra up the ring steps, hopping up onto the apron, afterwards. He holds open the ropes and she kisses him as she climbs through them. Dylan leaps up onto the nearest corner, raising his arms, still with a huge grin while Lissandra stays in the ring showing off her man and applauding. As the cheers begin to die down, Dylan helps Lissandra out of the ring, and then looks to the rampway doing a final warm up. ~

~ "Power" by Kanye West begins to play over the PA and the crowd instantly begins to boo. As the words "I'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man" play, a spot light shines on the entrance way revealing the Marvelous One. His back is to the crowd, and his arms are spread out wide revealing the rhinestones words "Simply Marvelous" on the back of the robe. ~

Belvedere: Introducing next hailing from Miami, Florida...

~ The Marvelous One spins around with a huge and cocky smile on his face. The light bounces off of his sequined and rhinestone white ring rob, with purple and blue designs on it. The darkness is replaced with a soft purple glow, but the spotlight stays on The Mecca of Manhood. ~

Belvedere: He is the Mecca of Manhood...

~ The Marvelous One struts to the ring, walking slowly, taking his time and allowing everyone to view him. He climbs the ring stairs and instructs the referee to hold the ropes open for him. ~

Belvedere: MARVELOUS MIKE MASON!!!!!!!!!!

~ The Ref holds the ropes open and the Marvelous One steps through and wins around in a 360 to the middle of the ring. He unties his robe, and removes it slowly, handing it to the referee. The Marvelous One hits a front double bicep in the center of the spotlight as the music fades out. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

Smith: And we are underway.

~ Staring the other man down, they make some rather crass comments to one another about how the match is going to end and some others things that may not be cleared for airing. Once this goes away, the two begin to go at it with a tight collar-and-elbow tie-up. Neither one of them manages to find a real advantage as they jockey for position as Thomas has scouted the “Natty Daddy”. ~

Hood: Hopefully they’ll hurry up and start beating the Hell out of each other.

~ Eventually, Thomas gets the upper hand and applies a tight side headlock to Mason. He grinds the hold tightly, but Mason shoves him off to the ropes. Thomas bounces back on the rebound and knocks the Mecca of Manhood down with a Shoulder Block. Smiling that the advantage is his and not Mason’s, Thomas bounces off the ropes and looks to take his head off with a Clothesline as Mason hops up, but Mason sidesteps the A-Lister. Off the rebound, he SNAPS him over forcefully with a headlock takeover and now has The A-Lister dead to rights in the center of the ring.~

Smith: These two are just about even in every way as far as stats. Thomas excels in the mat and striking game while Mason’s most prominent in-ring trait is his adaptability. A master of not one particular style, but just unorthodox enough to give him the advantage.

Hood: BORING! Translation, Thomas flies circles around people and Mason beats them into oblivion.

~ The A-Lister manages to pick himself up while Mason’s hands are wrapped around his neck. He shoves The Mecca of Manhood back to the ropes, but Mason bounces back and drills Thomas with a Spinning Heel Kick! Thomas staggers back trying to stay on his feet, but his opponent quickly cleans his clock with a few right hands! Staggering Thomas back into the nearest corner, Mason wastes no time, measuring up his target and throwing several HARD Knife-Edge Chops! ~

WOOOO!

WOOOO!

WOOOO!

WOOOO!

Smith: And Mason has the clear-cut advantage!

Hood: Wait!

~ Thomas jabs a thumb into Mason’s red eye, stunning him long enough to mount a comeback. He turns Mason around so he’s in the corner, then FLOORS Mason with a barrage of STIFF Snap Kicks to the chest and stomach of the opponent. ~

Hood: Back in the driver’s seat! THAT’S why Thomas is the A-Lister and why he should go bad!

Smith: He seems content being a good guy!

~ Thomas paces for a moment rubbing his jaw and chest! He does a few jumps in place and starts to measure up Mason, but as he turns around a picture-perfect Dropkick from the Mecca of Manhood sends Thomas scurrying to the outside. ~

Smith: And this may be a smart move on the part of Dylan Thomas. He needs to stop underestimating Mason because at the drop of a hat, it could very WELL be lights out for him.

~ Taking a reprieve in front of the announcer’s table, Thomas thinks he’s very well safe from the onslaught of Presidential Candidate. However, he sees a Mason-shaped blur out of the corner of his eye that looks like it’s trying too hard to fly. ~

Smith: DAMN!! MASON JUST FLEW OUT OF THE RING AND CAUGHT DYLAN THOMAS WITH THE SUICIDE DIVE!

Hood: Why can’t the move live up to its name and break someone’s neck?!

~ Both men try to pick themselves up following the high-risk maneuver from Mason. The Mecca of Manhood is up first and throws a few Forearms into the back of Thomas’s neck before tossing The A-Lister back into the ring. Mason, seeing an opportunity to inflict more punishment, springboards off the second rope and brings down 265 pounds across the neck with a Corkscrew Leg drop! ~

1!

2!!

NO!

~ Mason doesn’t let the lack of a win deter him, opting to punish Dylan further. He picks Thomas up and fires him into the ropes, but Thomas puts his hands on the mat and handsprings off the ropes and catches Mason with an Enzuguri! ~

Hood: HAHA! Dylan was playing possum! THAT is exactly why Thomas is a Champion-class athlete, A-Lister if you will! He knows where he is at all times!

Smith: We can’t refute that a bit.

~ The kick to the head is paying dividends as Thomas has safety from a Mason onslaught, Dylan pulls himself to his feet and goes to town on the fallen Mason with NASTY stiff kicks to the back! A trifecta of shots makes Mike arch his back and cry out in pain as Thomas bounces off the ropes and PUNTS him hard in the face. To complete the set of moves, Thomas springs off the adjacent set of ropes and flies high in the air, coming down HARD across the back of Mason with a Double Knee Drop! ~

Smith: Dylan Thomas with amazing height!

~ With a scowl reminiscent of a guy in a horror movie that doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror, Dylan throws an endless supply of Boxing-esque right hands aiming directly for the back of the head of Mason. The A-Lister narrowly avoids the count and picks up Mike before whipping him into the closest corner and unloading more Punches. ~

Smith: Thomas is trying to prove a point. This week some harsh words from Mason seems to have started a fire under the A-Lister.

Hood: Do you blame him?

Smith: I’m sure that Dylan has the respect of everyone in this company.

~ Well, not Mason. After unloading punches, Thomas scoots back a few steps allowing Mike to drop down in the corner. Thomas hits the ropes running full-bore, PLOWING Mason in the head with a Low Running Yakuza Kick! Slowly, The A-Lister rolls Mason into the center of the ring and goes for the pin attempt. ~

1!

2!!

3NO!

~ Nearly putting a fist through the mat, Thomas looks at the referee for the count not being three. Dylan turns his attention back to Mason. He goes to toss Mason into the corner, but Mason leaps to the second rope and goes for a cross body! Thomas quickly hits the ground ducking the crossbody attempt. But Mason is quicker than Thomas to get back to his feet and as Thomas turns around… ~

Smith: SUPER KICK!

Hood: DAMN!!!!

~ Mason drops atop Thomas’s shoulders for the cover. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: Great offensive counter by Mason. He almost had Thomas off that big-time Super kick!

Hood: That’s bull shit! He should’ve been DQed for using the ropes!

Smith: He was on the turnbuckle, stupid.

Hood: you say Tomato, I say turnbuckles!

~ Mason measures up Thomas and tries taking his head off with a low Roundhouse Kick, but Thomas dodges the oncoming kick. Turning around, Mason walks right into a nasty Over-the-Shoulder Jawbreaker to stun him. Buying himself some time, Thomas tries to whip Mike to the opposite side of the ring again, but Mason reverses by planting his boot in Thomas’s gut near the ropes. He dashes at the A-Lister again… ~

Smith: HOLY HELL!

Hood: DAMN, HE FLEW!

~ Thomas catches Mason at the apex of his jump and HURLS him over the ropes with an Exploder Suplex that dumps the Sultan of Swole out to the floor. ~

Hood: Think you for flying “The A-Lister” Airways…hahahahahaha…

~ Mason has yet to recover from the gruesome impact of the Exploder, but Thomas couldn’t care less about Mason’s well-being. Thomas smirks and wraps both arms around Mason’s back before driving him HARD back-first into the ring apron! Mason cries out in pain from the back-to-back brutal maneuvers, but Thomas ignores them completely and rolls him back under the ring. Fully convinced he’s got this match wrapped up, he drives a forearm into Mason’s face with the cover. ~

1!

2!!

FOOT ON THE ROPES!

~ Mason manages to save himself some energy with the errant foot on the ropes. Thomas realizes Mike may still have a little in him, lifts him up. Dylan yanks Mason’s head down before STIFFLY driving a succession of knees aimed at the forehead! ~

Smith: And now Thomas planting knee strikes in the garden that is Mason’s forehead.

Hood: Yes! Get vicious, dude.

~ Smelling blood, Thomas takes him down to the mat with a DDT and begins to let the knees go, throwing each knee as hard as he possibly can. After about ten or so knees, Thomas backs away, gritting his teeth at Mason who notices the open wound. ~

Smith: Damn! Mason’s been busted open! He’s bleeding a little bit, but the longer this goes, the longer it could go in Thomas’s favor.

~ Rolling the woozy Mason over, he goes for the cover. ~

1!

2!!

NO!

~ The self-proclaimed Mecca of Manhood of OCW throws a defiant shoulder up, but Thomas doesn’t waste any time dishing out more brutality with several nasty kicks to the head as Mason tries to mount a comeback. He staves off a few of the kicks by blocking them and throwing several rights to halt Thomas’s momentum, but another powerful knee to the face inhibits his comeback. Thomas shakes his head to say "I’m done with this shit!" and looks for some move resembling a Fireman’s Carry. ~

Smith: Looks like Thomas is setting Mike up PICs Showstoppa. Almost be fitting.

Hood: Rubbing it in.

~ But Mason is able to kick his legs out… ~

Smith: REVERSE DDT!

Hood: Damn nice counter, but is it enough to change the tide?!

~ Buying himself some time from the A-Lister’s blitz, Mason grabs his head and wipes some of the excess blood away with his hand before rolling over and climbing to his feet. Thomas, not liking this horrid turn of events for the match, swings wildly at Mason, but the Miami, Fl native ducks the oncoming blow and plasters him with a Jumping Knee! Two kicks to the ribs stuns The A-Lister long enough for Mason to whip him to the ropes. Thomas reverses and tries for a Short-Arm Lariat, but he ducks under the move, grabs Thomas by the throat lifting high in the air and SIMPLY MARVELOUS(Sky-High).

Hood: That came out of nowhere!!! Damn it!

Smith: Mason quickly goes for the cover!

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!!

Smith: So close to getting the win right there, but Thomas’s managed to stay in the game so far.

Belvedere: And your winner... NEW OCW TITLE CONTENDER... MARVELOUS MIKE MASON!!!!!!!!!!!

Hood: Well, PIC has his opponent.

Smith: Next week, MSG... MASON VS PIC for the OCW TITLE!

Hood: Now as much as I hoped Dylan would go bad and win, this is one sexy main event!

~There’s a buzz throughout the arena as the fans just witnessed Axis’ debut. Many begin getting out of their seats to go to the bathroom, or concessions, or to buy some sick OCW merch. That all changes as “Raise Your Hands” by Bon Jovi begins to blast throughout the PA. They all immediately run back to their seats and stand to their feet as PIC makes his way onto the entrance ramp, wearing the OCW World Championship around his waist. He panders to the fans from the ramp as they eat it up, then proceeds to run down the entrance ramp, slapping hands all the way down until he slides under the bottom rope and into the ring. Just as the song hits the chorus, he and the rest of the OCW faithful obey and collectively ‘raise their hands’ to the music.~

Smith: The champ is here!

Hood: Great…

~PIC waits for the music to die down, then calls for a microphone and begins to speak.~

PIC: Man, is it great to be back here tonight in Long Island, New York—

~PIC is cut off by the roaring cheers of the local crowd. Never one to pass up a cheap pop, PIC is all smiles as he waits for them to die down.~

PIC: I know I don’t have a match this week, but I wanted to be here to show my gratitude for you all for having my back and cheering me on these past few months.

~The crowd breaks out in a “PIC PIC PIC” chant.~

PIC: I also wanted to be here to check out the number one contendership match for my belt between Mike Mason and Dylan Thomas. Whoever wins that match gets to face me live on Massacre next week and whether Mason and I go head to head for the first time, or Dylan and I run it back from last week, I’ll be ready.

Smith: He’s referring to the huge number one contender match we have scheduled for later this evening.

Hood: Yeah, we heard. What the hell happened to you on that island anyway?

Smith: I’d… rather not talk about it.

~PIC pauses for a moment, allowing the crowd time to applaud before continuing.~

PIC: Which brings me to point number three. Last week, in addition to learning about the number one contender match, Thunder Knuckles and his band of bastards ran their mouths about a lot of things last week, trying to PICk… a fight with me. It seems TK still has a hard time with me beating him in the Margarita Mix on my way to gaining the shot that ultimately led to winning my title, and he thinks he can just come out and demand a shot at said title any time he pleases.

~The crowd boos.~

PIC: So, TK… Mr. Knuckles if you’re nasty… if you’re in the back, why don’t you make your way down to this ring and let’s have a little discussion.

~”I Need a Dollar” by Aloe Blacc mixed with Wu Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.” kicks up over the PA system as Thunder Knuckles walks out onto the entrance ramp to a chorus of boos. He pauses for a moment to take it in, then looks over his shoulder as The Nickleman and Harmon Egan flank him on either side.~

Hood: Oh hell yeah! The Brotherhood of Bastards has arrived!

~TK smirks in PIC’s direction as he begins walking down the ramp, the other two following suit. He climbs up the ring steps and motions for both Nickleman and Harmony to remain at ringside. He steps through the middle rope and walks over to Belvedere for a mic of his own. As the music fades, the fans continue to reign down boos in his direction. He waits, giving his signature jerking-off hand gesture to the crowd, until the boos die down before beginning to speak.~

TK: Well, well, mother fucking well… It's about goddamn time you finally addressed my challenge. I was beginning to think you were running scared, which would make sense considering you’ve had that title for three weeks and still haven’t fucking defended it. Not very becoming of a “fighting champion” such as yourself.

~The crowd boos. TK smiles like a cocky prick, taking it in before he continues.~

TK: But it’s good to see that’s not the case at all. So, it’ll be me and you for that belt of yours at Rumble in the Bronx, and when I take the title from you, assuming you still have it after next week, you can bet I’ll be every bit the champion you could never be.

~PIC cuts him off before he can continue.~

PIC: TK, you seem to be mistaken. I didn’t say you’d be getting a title shot at the PPV. In fact, I’m getting a little tired of the theme around here of wrestlers with mediocre records getting title opportunities left and right. Later tonight, either a guy with a barely .500 record or another that hasn’t won a match since March will become my first challenger. It’s like Victoria Strader feels like she can just hand title shots out to whomever has the biggest pecs or the longest tenure, but that’s not how I earned this belt and it’s not how it should be treated. You see, you don’t just get to demand title shots around here… you have to earn it.

Smith: It’s hard to argue with him there. It does seem as if Victoria Strader has been randomly giving title opportunities to folks who may not have earned them.

Hood: She’s the boss and can do whatever the hell she wants. Just be thankful she let you come back to work.

~The crowd pops. TK looks pissed, but smiles again as he nods to The Nickleman and Harmon Egan who inch closer to him.~

TK: See guys, it’s just like I thought. PIC’s too goddamn scared to face me in the ring. He talks a big game but in the end, he’s just like all the other losers around here. At least he’s man enough to realize he can’t compete with the Brotherhood of Bastards. Hell, any one of us could take him out without batting an eye.

PIC: It’s funny you say that, because you’ve got it completely twisted. I’d love nothing more than to beat your head in… again. No, I’m not giving you a title shot… but I’ll give you the chance to earn it.

~TK’s ears perk up. The crowd seems to like the idea.~

PIC: Since you accurately pointed out I don’t have a match for the Rumble in the Bronx, how about you and one of your goons put those tag team titles up against myself and a partner of my choosing? And if you win… you’re next in line for a shot at this!

~PIC unclasps the world title and holds it in the air. The crowd cheers loudly as TK rubs his chin in thought.~

Smith: Woah! TK came out here expecting PIC to accept his challenge for the world title, but PIC seems to have a challenge of his own!

Hood: Figures. That egotistical PrICk is trying to take all the spotlight once again.

TK: So, let me get this straight. You say I have no right to demand a title shot from you without earning it, but somehow I’m just supposed to give you a shot at the tag titles? The ego on this guy! Nah, I’ll earn my shot the old fashioned way. By beating the Holy fucking Hell out of you!

~The crowd boos. TK nods to his partners and the three begin marching toward the ring. TK stands at the base of the ramp while The Nickleman and Harmony flank either side of the ring. PIC doesn’t know which direction to look. Nickleman slides in first and PIC begins laying in the boots, giving Harmony a change to nail him from behind. TK gets in the ring as Harmony gets PIC in the corner. He whips him out into a stiff clothesline by TK. The Nickleman rolls out of the ring and reaches under the apron, pulling out a baseball bat wrapped with barbed wire. He slides back in as TK picks PIC up. He holds him in the middle of the ring as Nickleman charges forward, smashing the bat in PIC’s face. The crowd boos loudly as PIC hits the mat, his face already sporting a crimson mask.~

Smith: Someone’s gotta put a stop to this! Where’s security? Where are the other wrestlers in the back?

Hood: Let’s let this play out. If the champ is so big and bad he won’t have any trouble fighting these guys off.

Smith: Three of OCW’s best against one? No matter how good he is, he’s got no chance in that fight.

~The Brotherhood of Bastards smile at their work as Harmony drops down and hooks in his calf slicer as PIC screams out in pain. Nickleman takes the barbed wire bat and begins beating PIC across his back while Harmony cinches in the hold. TK laughs and looks toward the entrance ramp, expecting someone to come to PIC’s aid. When no one does, he smiles even wider as he picks the microphone up off the mat. He gets down in PIC’s face as he continues to scream in pain.~

TK: Wow… I guess no one gives a shit about you enough to make the save attempt. All those wins, all that success… and not a single goddamn friend in the world. You know, now that I’ve had some time to think it over, I change my mind. You want a tag title shot? You got it! Good luck finding a damn partner.~

~TK gets to his feet and grabs the bat from Nickleman. He places it in front of PIC’s face. He bounces off the ropes and baseball slides the bat into PIC’s face as a chorus of boos reigns down. OCW medics and officials rush to the ring as Harmony releases the hold. The Brotherhood of Bastards pose in the ring as the medics check on the battered and bloody world champion.~

Smith: Unbelievable! After all that, NOW TK accepts the challenge?

Hood: That guy is as smart as they come. PIC challenged him for the tag titles, meaning he’s gotta find a partner. TK and the Brotherhood beat the piss out of him and no one came to help. TK knows what we all know: it’s awfully lonely at the top. PIC doesn’t have a single friend in this business as long as the world title is around his waist. This is gonna be an easy win at the PPV.

Smith: Surely someone will step up. They have to… right?

~ We cut backstage to see Zybala warming up for his match. It always pays to stretch, kids. We see Jones walk into the room and Zybala stops. ~

Zybala: Jones! Thanks for coming.

Jones: Mr. Zybala, you said you had a big announcement?

Zybala: Well, it's not mind blowing. It's actually a few things. First and foremost, consider me signed up for The Rumble in the Bronx match. I figured I could try to break my streak of never have won a battle royal.

Jones: That's huge news!

Zybala: Is it? I'm like the 7th person who announced their participation. Anyways, second part of business. I'm am calling out Alice Knight! We never have had a one on one match before, and I think that needs to change. Just as long as she promises not to punch my in the dick again. And finally, Bifford....

~ Zybala pauses to stare at the camera. ~

Zybala: We may have agreed to the second ever gentlemen games, which I will win. It may be for my shoes, which you will never win. But I have another thing you will never get, but want so deeply. I have a contract for a match against SILVERFREAK!! MWAHAHAHA!

~ As Zybala laughs maniacally, he pushes Jones out of the room and locks the door before any further questions can be asked. We got back to Smith and Hood. ~

Hood: He's gotta be lying!! Why would Silver Freak come back for Zybala and not Biff??

Smith: I don't know, but if Zybala is telling the truth, it's one of the biggest announcements ever!!

~ The camera cuts backstage to Nickleman, still coming down from a hard fought match against Big Bifford earlier in the night. He sweeps his hair back before reaching down and grabbing the handle of a rustic wheelbarrow. Inside the wheelbarrow are a slew of championship wrestling belts The Nickleman has won from multiple federations, but most notably the Savage and Tag Titles sit at the top of the pile. He suddenly turns down the hallway and nearly bumps his barrel of a chest into the TransAtlantic Champion’s face. ~

The Nickleman: Ohh! My apologies, Mrs. Duke!

~ Slowly lifting a hand to Nickleman’s grimy chest, Sahara gently pushes him away to create some additional space between them. She has a momentary look of disgust on her face before shuddering a bit. She then makes a motion as if there were a ring around her. ~

Sahara: You see this?! This is my personal space, Mr. Nickels. Don’t enter the halo…

~ Nickleman snaps his fingers and points at Sahara. ~

The Nickleman: Hey, that’s a college football reference, isn’t it?! Congrats on being named head quarterback on your husband's football team! I bet you earned that honor–

~ Her brow furrows at the implication. ~

Sahara: Alright, smartass… before you say something else that’ll piss me off, you reached out to me about joining this BOB thing? So let’s talk about BOB…

~ Nickelman nods rather proudly. ~

The Nickleman: Absolutely… you’d be a great addition to the Brotherhood! You’re a perfect fit, aside from the whole being a woman thing! I mean, your assets are underappreciated. You’re dismissed by many of these undeserving blowhards on the roster just because you look like a bimbo, but that’s not fair. So what if you're the owner's wife? So what if you’re hot? That shouldn’t be used against you. That sorta thing wouldn't happen if you were a member of the Brothe–

Sahara: Hang on– (she interjects) –what was that last one?

The Nickleman: Dismissed?

~ Sahara shakes her head. ~

The Nickleman: Underappreciated?

~ She shakes her head again. ~

The Nickleman: That you’re the owner's wife?!

~ She shakes her head for a third time. ~

The Nickleman: Oh, that you’re hot?!

Sahara: That’s the one, what in THE hell does that got to do with anything?

The Nickleman: Oh, nothing, it’s just kinda a bonus for the Brotherhood! We just think it would be fun to have you in our shared locker room.

~ Sahara rolls her eyes as The Nickleman grins at her like a sick perv. ~

Sahara: Whatever, so what’s the deal… cuz I ain’t goin’ through some crazy hazing ritual with that wheelbarrow to join this thing–

~ Nickleman chuckles as he spins the wheelbarrow full of championship gold around. ~

The Nickleman: Oh, no no no… it’s nothing like that. You know how we got that big title unification thing coming up at Rumble in the Bronx? Well, the OCW thinks they run things, but they don’t run things. The Brotherhood runs things. We run things in every major federation across North America, ya hear?

~Nickleman pulls out an IIW championship belt from the pile.~

The Nickleman: Shit, I got more belts than pants these days!

~Nickleman lifts up a pair of XWF championships from the wheelbarrow.~

The Nickleman: I mean fuck, The Brotherhood is set to hold all the major league gold before the end of the year, in all the major federations- and that includes the new shiny Paradigm Championship, doncha’ know?

~The Nickleman places all the gold back into the wheelbarrow while Sahara looks on skeptically. ~

The Nickleman: So all you’d have to do is lay down and nice submissive-like for me on the next Premium Live Event….be the easy girl I know you are, and I can make all your wildest dreams come true.

Sahara: You mean make it easy on you…

The Nickleman: Potato, tomato, Sahara. But yeah… make it easy on the both of us! You don’t want me to take what I want the hard way, do you? It’s easier for your marriage if I just become the Paradigm champion, and well, you? Hell, With all the gold the Brotherhood possesses, we’d be quick to make you whole again! I mean, a person like you should NOT be seen without a title draped across that beautiful body. It’s like a sin!

~ Oddly enough, Sahara seems to ponder this offer. ~

Sahara: Alright, what if I said yes to this little deal? How do I know yer gonna keep your promise and “make me whole again”?!

The Nickleman: The Brotherhood never lies to the Brotherhood, Lauren– may I call you Lauren?

Sahara: No.

The Nickleman: Okay, Mrs. Duke-Nickles works!

~ Rolling her eyes… again, she looks from one of his titles to the other. She points to the Savage championship– ~

Sahara: Would you mind–

~ Without waiting for a response, she takes the Savage championship off the pile and slings it over her shoulder. She looks from her TransAtlantic championship on one shoulder to the Savage championship on the other. ~

Sahara: Always wondered how this would feel… it’ll be sad seeing this thing go away.

The Nickleman: Oh, but we got plenty of gold here to replace it with…

~ Continuing to look at the titles on her shoulders once again, she looks up at Nickleman and nods as he starts rifling through the wheelbarrow for a more lasting championship belt. ~

Sahara: Alright… let’s do it. I’ll join the Brotherhood if you can guarantee you can make something like this happen, but if I do this– woah! Is that Biff?!

~ Nickleman turns to see a member of the production crew that looks somewhat like Big Bifford coming down the hallway. He chuckles at Sahara’s mistake– ~

The Nickleman: Nah, that’s just the catering guy… you of all people should recogniz–

~ He stops talking as he turns back to Sahara… but she’s nowhere to be seen. And neither is his Savage championship. ~

~ Nickleman smirks. ~

The Nickleman: Oh, she wants to do this the hard way… she’s going to be fun.

~The scene cuts to the backstage area in a bathroom turned into a makeshift medical station. We see PIC laying on a table as The Knife Man tends to his wounds from earlier. He finishes up stitching his forehead and begins the tedious process of removing loose pieces of barbed wire from his back.~

PIC: Ahhh!!! Son of a—

TKM: Quit being a baby. This is nothing compared to what I had to do after you won the title.

PIC: Yeah well I had the adrenaline of just winning the belt to get me through that.

~The Knife Man shrugs and goes back to work, pulling another piece out. PIC fights the urge to yell again, biting his lip instead. TKM takes a cloth, rubs it over the wounds, then bandages the two places.~

TKM: Almost done Sit up.

~PIC sits up on the bed. TKM grabs a roll of gauze and a wrap and goes to work wrapping up his torso. Satisfied with his work, he motions for PIC to put his shirt on. After he does he gets up off the table and walks over to a sink. He splashes some water on his face and tries to get the caked blood out of his hair. As he raises his head up, he jumps as TLS can be seen in the mirror. PIC turns to him.~

PIC: Nice face. Almost didn’t recognize you.

~TLS glances over at the OCW world title, on the ground, then back at PIC. The crowd pops in the arena.~

PIC: You here to cash in? Now?

~TLS pulls his other hand from behind his back, revealing a piece of paper attached to a clipboard. He reaches it out to PIC who cautiously takes it.~

PIC: So you are cashing in.

~The crowd in the arena goes wild. PIC tries to adjust his stance but the pain causes him to back off.~

TLS: Nah… this is a contract for the tag titles. Strader says it's official.

~TLS reaches out and slaps PIC on the back. He winces in pain as TLS turns to walk away. PIC gathers himself as best he can.~

PIC: But why?

~TLS turns to look at him.~

TLS: You know what they say. Keep your friends close…

~TLS turns and walks out of the bathroom leaving PIC holding the contract. He stares at it and begins to smile.~

PIC: …and your enemies closer.

~We cut to Smith and Hood sitting at the announce table.~

Smith: Wow! TLS signed the contract! He’s PIC’s partner at Rumble in the Bronx!

Hood: I… I just don’t get that guy. We haven’t seen him since the Margarita Mix where he and PIC won the whole thing, then fought each other. TLS almost killed him, literally drown him in the ocean within an inch of his life only to grow a conscience all the sudden and pull him out. PIC goes on to somehow win the match, and TLS is gone. Now he’s back two months later and wants to tag with him again?

Smith: That all happened when I was gone, but I certainly remember watching old tapes of the two tagging on the independents. They were as tough as they come back then, and each has gone on to have tremendous success as singles competitors. In fact, wasn’t it the team of Thunder Knuckles and Dolly Waters that lost to these two in the finals of the Mix?

Hood: It was, and TK was the one who ate the pin. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but with TLS as his partner, PIC may have actually one-upped TK here tonight.

Singles Match
THE BIG BIFFORD (15-2) VS THE NICKLEMAN (9-1)

Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first... 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. ~

Belvedere: And his opponent...

~ “Since I’m a Bastard – This Grey City” starts to play and the fans boo loudly as he finger pistols them like the bastard he is. Get it? Anyway.~

Belvedere: Hailing from Steubenville, Ohio representing THE BROTHERHOOD OF BASTARDS as one half half of the OCW Tag Team Champions and the OCW Savage Championship.... THE NICKLEMAN!!!!

~ Nickleman hands is belts to Belvedere yelling at him to keep them safe as he stares down the Big Bifford. ~

Smith: Man, I hope the ring can handle the weight here.

~ DING DING DING ~

~ Bifford goes after Nickleman, but Nickleman is quick to dodge the attack. Nickleman sweeps Bifford to the mat and begins to lay into him with lefts and rights. Bifford covers up and Nickleman gets him to his feet. Nickleman whips him into the ropes, Bifford comes back and hits a huge shoulder block on Nickleman. Bifford goes into the ropes and comes down with a big-time leg drop over Nickleman's throat. Bifford gets Nickleman to his feet and nails a right hook and then follows up with a kick to the midsection. Bifford tries for an early powerbomb and gets Nickleman up to his shoulders, but Nickleman begins to resist as he connects with lefts and rights to Bifford's head. Bifford drops Nickleman and staggers back a bit. ~

Hood: Biff going for a powerbomb that surely would’ve destroyed the ring.

Smith: Scary strength.

~ Bifford turns around and is met by a stiff kick to the face. Bifford staggers back and falls into the corner. Nickleman slams him knees into Bifford's midsection. He backs up to the middle of the ring, and sprints. He leaps and catches Bifford in the face with a high knee strike, and Bifford staggers forward. Nickleman hops up to the top turnbuckle. He leaps forward off the turnbuckle, shooting him legs out in front of him, and catches Bifford with a massive bulldog! He hooks the leg... ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!

~ Nickleman is frustrated and gets Bifford to his feet. He sends him into the ropes, but Bifford comes back and nails him with a big boot! Nickleman looks out of it, and Bifford covers. ~

1!

2!!

Shoulder up!

~ Bifford gets Nickleman up to his feet and tosses him into the corner. He slams his shoulder into Nickleman a few times and then picks him up so he's upside down in front of me, and takes off to the middle of the ring. He leaps and executes a big running(well a light jog) powerslam. He covers... ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Smith: How did he manage to kick out of that?!

Hood: Resilience, Smith! Both of these men have quite an abundance of it!

~ Bifford gets Nickleman to his feet and performs a rear waistlock, which quickly turns into a German Suplex. Nickleman crashes to the mat hard. Bifford gets to his feet and grabs Nickleman by the hair. He slams his face into the turnbuckle. He does it again, and again. Bifford won't stop and finally Puff gets involved to break it up. ~

Smith: Bifford is gonna break Nickleman's head open if he keeps that up!

Hood: Probably the goal, Smith!

~ Bifford lets go of Nickleman and steps back for a moment. Nickleman turns around and Bifford charges. Nickleman moves out of the way at the last second and Bifford stops right at the turnbuckle, turns around, and gets met with a swift backhand. Bifford falls into the corner and Nickleman comes back with lefts and rights, attempting to cut the big man down. Nickleman kicks Bifford low and locks in a front facelock. Nickleman steps back with Bifford in front headlock and runs up the turnbuckles and comes back down with a huge tornado DDT. Nickleman lays for a moment, and then makes a cover. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

Smith: Finally, some offense out of Nickleman!

Hood: Bifford has got this.

Smith: Hood... you got a little something on your nose.

Hood: ...

~ Bifford holds his head as Nickleman uses the ropes to get up. Nickleman stomps on Bifford a few times and then goes to the top rope. Nickleman hangs up there for a moment, waiting for Bifford to get to his feet. Bifford gets up and looks over to Nickleman who's already in midair. Nickleman lands on Bifford's chest with a huge crossbody!! Nickleman covers Bifford again. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!

Smith: A close count there!

Hood: Puff seemed a little slow on that three, Smith.

Smith: You seem a little slow yourself.

~ Nickleman gets Bifford up to his feet and smashes Bifford's face into his knee. Nickleman follows that up with a toss into the ropes. Nickleman telegraphs a dropkick, but Bifford holds up as Nickleman crashes to the mat. Nickleman shoots back up, but Bifford hits a running lariat on Nickleman. Nickleman gets back up again, but Bifford is quick to scoop him up and slam him to the mat. Bifford goes into the ropes and comes down with a bone-crushing elbow drop. He tries a cover. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

~ Bifford gets Nickleman up to his feet and throws him into the corner. Bifford charges and connects with a huge clothesline. Bifford shoves Nickleman back into the corner and puts him on the top turnbuckle. Bifford climbs to the middle rope and puts Nickleman in a front facelock. Bifford lifts Nickleman up and behind him, slamming him to the mat with a superplex. Bifford covers. ~

1!

2!!

3NO KICKOUT!!!!

Hood: Bifford getting closer!!!

Smith: I agree, and Scott seems to be rolling on all gears right now!

~ Bifford gets to his feet first, pulls Nickleman up and throws him out of the ring. Bifford climbs out and grabs Nickleman by the head and smashes his face into the barricade. Puff begins to start the count. ~

1!

~ Bifford picks Nickleman up and drops him throat-first onto the barricade. Nickleman struggles to breathe and starts to crawl away for safety. Bifford kicks Nickleman in the ribs a few times, and gets him to his feet. Bifford slams Nickleman face-first into the ringpost, as the ref keeps counting. ~

2!!

~ Nickleman, now on one knee, is bleeding from his nose. Bifford grabs him by the head again, but Nickleman has had enough as he slams his elbow into Bifford' gut. Nickleman does it again, and again, and then hits a back elbow connecting with Bifford's jaw. He goes down and Nickleman follows up with a moonsault off the barricade! ~

Hood: Nickleman hit that moonsault perfectly!

4!

Smith: He can't beat Bifford outside the ring!

Hood: He’s a Bastard, not stupid!

Smith: Debatable. You have heard him talk.

5!

~ Nickleman gets Bifford up to his feet and slides him into the ring. Nickleman wipes the blood from his mouth and climbs to the second turnbuckle as Bifford manages to get to a knee. Nickleman waits patiently as Bifford turns around. Nickleman jumps off a huge double axhandle. ~

Hood: Nickleman going for the pin!!

Smith: Will Bifford escape?!

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!

Hood: Another close one, Smith. Are we ever going to get a winner here?

Smith: These guys better hope we don't run out of time!

~ Nickleman begins to yell at Puff, but he isn't budging about his call. Bifford gets to his feet and wraps Nickleman up from behind and hits a Reverse DDT on him. Nickleman crashes on his back while having some of Bifford’s weight fall on him. Bifford and Nickleman, a little fatigued, get to their feet at relatively the same time. Bifford lays into Nickleman with a right hook, but Nickleman comes back with his own. Back and forth they go as Nickleman tries to stand toe-to-toe with Bifford. ~

Smith: Does Nickleman WANT to lose? He can't stand toe to toe with Bifford!

Hood: Not many can. Look at the size of him.

~ Nickleman stomps on Bifford a few times and then gets on one knee, reaches back, and pops Bifford in the face for good measure. Bifford isn’t fazed. Nickleman gets the idea for DEVIL HOOK DROP but before he even knows it Bifford has kicked him in the gut, and puts his head between those disturbingly sweaty thighs. He lifts up and back with a ring shaking PILEDRIVER! He covers!!!!

Hood: PILEDRIVER! It’s over, Smith!

Smith: He’s got the cover

~ Puff drops to the mat and begins the count. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner... THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!!!!

Smith: That was fairly fast paced considering the size of these men!

Hood: Yeah, two fat bastards that will catch their breath sometime by Friday.

Smith: Hood! Man, we get enough hate mail. Don’t add to it!

Hood: Pussy.

~ Belvedere steps into the ring with a microphone. The OCW Faithful perk up awaiting the announcement. ~

Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen please welcome at this time. MOON… LIGHT… ROSE!

~ Meteor by SALTY DOG begins to play as the crowd turn their collective attention towards the stage. The cheers fill the OCW arena as Moonlight Rose steps onto ramp. High fiving ringsiders and waving to the people. She climbs the ring to the top turnbuckle and poses for the cameras. She hops into and grabs Bel’s mic, and bows when he leaves the ring. ~

Moonlight Rose: Long Island… Your Hero has arrived.

The crowd pop for the cheap reactions.

Hood: Kid learns fast.

Moonlight Rose: I’ve got a pretty special topic to talk about. As you can see I’m not out here in my gear so I’m not fighting tonight. But I will be fighting in a couple weeks. I am making my official announcement for the Rumble in the Bronx match!

~ The crowd cheers. ~

Moonlight Rose: A world title match on the line with some other belts along the way. What could make for a better opportunity to break out. I’ve been doing well. Its time cash in on my momentum. I will not let you all down.

~ She bows to each side of the ring as her music starts up again. She leaves the ring as the crowd dies down. ~

Smith: You heard it here folks. Moonlight Rose will be an entrant in the Rumble in the Bronx match on November 27th.

Hood: She has a lot of heart. But she barely squeaked out a win in her last match. And that only had 3 people. This ones gonna have a hell of lot more.

Smith: We can only wait and see Hood.

HARMON EGAN (C) (8-0) VS BALL-BALL (7-4)

Belvedere: The following contest is our main event of the evening and is for the OCW CRAZE CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!! Introducing first, the challenger...

~Hooked on a feeling begins to play as a swarm of Goons run out from the stands onto the ramp~

OOGA-CHAKA OOGA-OOGA
OOGA-CHAKA OOGA-OOGA
OOGA-CHAKA OOGA-OOGA
OOGA-CHAKA OOGA-OOGA

I can’t stop this feeling
Deep inside of me
Girl, you just don’t realize
What you do to me

~ Lavar Ball runs out onto the stage ready to soak in the boos. He waves his arms like a windmill before bringing his hand to his ear facing the crowd. The lights turn black as the crowd boos. ~

When you hold me
In your arms so tight
You let me know
Everything’s alright

IIIIIIIIIIIIII”MM

~The lights strobe in every color under the sun. Red and green fireworks blast from the sides of the stage. Ball Ball emerges from the stage, crip walking~

HOOKED ON A FEELING!

Belvedere: From Khartoum, Sudan. Standing at a staggering 7’2, he is the tallest man to ever kick your ass… BALL BALL!

~Ball Ball walks through the wave of Goons on the ramp, Lavar following close behind him with his hand still to his ear. The Goons start dapping him up and yelling their signature catch phrase~

Goons: YESSSIIIRRRRR. YURRRRRRR.

~As Ball Ball reaches the ring, he uses his lanky ass legs to step up onto the apron with ease, and in one stride, he steps over the top rope and into the ring. He reaches the center of the ring and stands ready in jump ball position as the music fades~

~A pair of black rimmed eyes open up on the main screen as the arena is bathed in white as “The Day is My Enemy” by Prodigy starts its opening beats. When the song comes to its crescendo the white light is intermixed with violet whirling lights as the main screen shows shots of Harmony in action intermixed with flowing Rorschach inkblots. ~

Belvedere: Weighing in at 175 pounds, he is your OCW Craze Champion… Harmon “Harmony” Egan!!!

~Harmony appears at the top of the ramp with the OCW Craze Championship around his waist and books it to the ring, sliding in under the bottom room "Edge style" and crawling to the camera at mat level. He shoots the camera a confident smirk and kips up to his feet, ready for action. Sahara looks eager to attack from the opposing corner, but Gruff keeps the two separated long enough to take both title belts and hand them to Belvedere as he exits the ring. Gruff then calls for the bell.~

~ DING DING DING ~

~ The match is underway and Ball Ball quickly plants Harmon with a big boot, sending him onto his back. Ball bends over to lift Harmon, but instead Harmon grips his arm, yanking the challenger to the mat. Harmon transitions into an armbar, but Ball’s lanky ass leg is able to touch the rope as soon as Harmon has it locked in. Egan seems annoyed, as he breaks the hold and immediately begins stomping on Ball Ball’s arm, but the Sudanese Giant swipes out and is able to trip Harmon. Ball mounts The champion and begins to throw a barrage of punches before choking him. Scruff yells at Ball Ball to break the hold, distracting Ball long enough for Harmon to jab his thumb into his opponent’s eye. The champion rises to his feet. Ball rubs his eyes and turns around, only to be caught with a jumping uppercut. Harmon capitalizes and locks in a Guillotine Choke, bringing Ball to his knees. Scruff checks on Ball, as he kicks and scrambles to break free before finally getting his toe onto the bottom rope. ~

Smith: Harmon said those long limbs would only be good for snapping, but they seem to be saving his life with these rope breaks.

~ Harmon releases the hold, his face painted with frustration as Ball gasps for air. Harmon quickly latches himself onto Ball, scrambling to lock in another hold, but Ball hits him with a devastating headbutt, followed by yet another monstrous headbutt. Harmon’s eyes roll back, as Ball lifts him to his feet and tosses him towards the ropes. Harmon rebounds, running straight into a big boot that flattens him. Ball grabs the top rope and starts to shake it violently as he lets out a roar. He turns around, grabbing his opponent by the hair and bringing him to his feet and back to the mat with a textbook suplex. The Tallest Man in OCW quickly gets to work stomping on Harmon. ~

Smith: Not pretty but very effective strategy from Ball Ball.

Hood: Nothing about that freak is pretty.

~ Ball drops an elbow that lands right between Harmon’s shoulder blades. He stands over him and starts calling him a bum, but Harmon uses the opening to coil himself around Ball’s leg, bringing him down. Harmon’s able to get to his feet, Ball's leg still in hand while the other kicks in a panic, but to no avail as Harmon executes a picture perfect ankle lock, twisting the foot and yanking hard. Ball tries to crawl to safety, but the champion is able to wrangle him back in, keeping him just out of reach from the ropes. Ball throws his hands over his head, as he grinds his teeth in pain. Scruff asks Ball if he forfeits, only to be met with the longest middle finger you’ve ever seen. ~

Smith: Was that really necessary? He’s just doing his job!

Hood: Lets not jump to conclusions, it could mean something completely different in Somalia

Smith: He’s from Sudan

Hood: Potato Patato.

~ Ball slowly begins to crawl his way to the corner of the ring, his face distorting into one of pure agony, as Egan continues to twist and torque his ankle. Ball’s mere centimeters from touching either rope, his long arms flailing like one of those inflatable tube men. Refusing to submit, Ball lunges himself forward and finally breaks the hold. Harmon begins shaking away his disbelief, as he decides to crank on his challenger's ankle. Scruff calls for Harmon to break the hold, but he simply refuses. Scruff begins to make the count. Ball kicks and shakes as he tries to pull himself free, but the champion just locks it in tighter until Scruff reaches a count of 4. ~

Smith: That bastard!

Hood: You don’t say?

~ Balls begins holding his ankle, trying to shake away the pain. Harmon once again grabs hold of his leg and locks in another Ankle lock, but Ball Ball quickly lunges for the ropes, breaking the hold. Egan kneels down on Ball’s knee before letting go once again at 4. Ball rolls out of the ring, and Harmon goes to follow but Scruff is able to stop him before starting the count out. ~

1..

2..

3..

~ Ball pulls himself up, leaning against the stairs. He begins to slowly put weight on his ankle. ~

4…

5.. ~ Ball Ball pulls himself away from the stairs, walking along the apron. Harmon rebounds against the ropes charging towards Ball Ball. ~

6…

~ As Harmon goes for a baseball slide, Ball grabs hold of his legs, yanking him out of the ring. The crowd pops, as Ball continues to hang on to the champion’s legs, yanking them up into powerbomb position as the ref restarts his count. ~

1..

2..

~ Ball Ball slowly makes his way over to the stairs, slamming Harmon into them and crumbling to the floor. Ball sits a moment, catching his breath. ~

3..

4..

5…

6…

~ Ball Ball and Harmon both get to their feet on opposite sides of the stairs, the two looking at each other for a moment. ~

7..

8…

~ Harmon rolls Ball-Ball back into the ring. Ball-Ball is stunned from the kick to the knee and then baseball slide to the same knee and is still clutching at the offending body part. Placing the leg on the ropes, Harmon jumps up and down onto the toe of Ball-Ball's upturned boot, low blowing himself. As he grabs at his now injured manhood, Ball-Ball begins to slide out from under his opponent and gets to his feet. Harmon turns around big clothesline from Ball-Ball! Harmon is backed up into the corner, chop from Ball-Ball, another chop, a repeated third chop and Harmon's chest is turning blood red. Not only has the blood vessels broken, but the skin seems to be trickling the faintest amount of blood. ~

Smith: Vicious chops from Ball-Ball.

Hood: Harmon might have thought Ball-Ball was a pushover, but there isn't much to push.

~ Lifting him up, Harmon is now resting on the top turnbuckle; Ball-Ball climbs up after him. Top Rope Superplex! Both Harmon and Ball-Ball are down, Harmon haven slid all the way across the ring on his back. Ball-Ball rolls over and to his knees before getting back to his feet; he is covered in sweat. Ball-Ball walks over to Harmon who has begun to slowly rise up and the two meets with right hands. Harmon is getting the worse of the right hands from the much bigger and more powerful man and is quickly backed into another corner. Harmon doesn't let this bother him as he walks backwards up the corner turnbuckles diving with a moonsault over Ball-Ball's head and turns around to face Ball-Ball's back. Ball-Ball spins quickly, but is not able to avoid the foot placed into his stomach. Harmon climbs through the ropes to the outside before climbing up to the top turnbuckle, he dives with a leg drop across the back of Ball-Ball's neck taking him down to the mat. He rolls Ball-Ball over; he hooks a leg. ~

1!

2!!

KICKOUT!!!

~ Ball-Ball kicks out with some authority, but it is noticeable that his energy is draining fast. ~

Hood: Tall men are powerful, but their size inhibits their endurance.

Smith: Harmon is tiring too, but possibly not as fast as Ball-Ball.

~ Harmon climbs back through the ropes, holding onto the top most rope with both hands. Ball-Ball gets back to his feet facing away from Harmon, who leaps to the top rope. Springboard bulldog and Ball-Ball is down on his face yet again. Harmon somehow hooks in a crossface chicken wing move, but is unable to secure the hold properly due to Ball-Ball's massive size. Ball-Ball easily breaks the hold by getting to his knees and shaking Harmon like a rag doll in a dog's teeth. Harmon is flung to the ropes and using the momentum springboards with a flying forearm and elbow to the side of Ball-Ball's head. Ball-Ball ducks from the blow catching Harmon in a fireman's carry slam to the mat. Both men are down and the ref begins another long count. ~

1!

2!!

3!!!

4!!!!

5!!!!!

6!!!!!!

~ Harmon is moving now a little faster than Ball-Ball; Harmon being to one knee as Ball-Ball is just rolling over. ~

7!!!!!!!

8!!!!!!!!

~ Harmon falls to the ropes in an effort to get back up to his feet as Ball-Ball is up to both knees at this point. Ball-Ball shakes his head and leaning on the ropes, Harmon does the exact same. Harmon goes for a punt kick to Ball-Ball's temple, but Ball-Ball catches it standing up with the captured body part. Ball-Ball laughs as Harmon is shaking his head; using his right foot, Ball-Ball kicks the foot out from under Harmon. He hooks Harmon up in the tree of woe! ~

Hood: Harmon is going to get broken in half!

Smith: Let’s see how he avoids whatever is coming.

~ Ball-Ball comes running full force to spear Egan, but he pulls himself up with his abdominal muscles cause Ball-Ball to spear the ring posts. Harmon unhooks himself, and moves away quickly. Ball-Ball recovers quickly getting his hands on Harmon and Ball-Ball whips Harmon into the ropes and as Harmon comes back, plants him to the mat with a huge Somoan drop to the canvas; it is a pinning attempt. ~

1!

2!!

NO! Harmon just does roll up his shoulder, stopping the match's end just in time. ~

Smith: Close call for Ball-Ball to gain the OCW Craze title.

Hood: Ball-Ball probably didn't realize it was a pin attempt.

~ Rolling to his knees again, Ball-Ball pushes himself up, wobbling from the energy put into this match; Harmon using the ropes again does the same. They stare at each other once again in this matchup and both nod they charge towards each other. Harmon with a drop toe hold, but Ball-Ball flipped over it?

Hood: What the...?

Smith: Yeah, where did that come from?

~ Ball-Ball points to his temple, showing he is smarter than people give him credit for. Harmon stands up behind him, looking bewildered he wipes the sweat from his eyes and stares at Ball-Ball's back. Ball-Ball turns around, they begin to pound each other again. Surprising Harmon, once again, Ball-Ball lifts him up in a gorilla press slam and drops him to the mat. Harmon lands on the tips of his boots and hands, he spins around sweeping the legs out from under Ball-Ball and Ball-Ball is down to the mat flat on his back. Ball-Ball's head made violent contact with the canvas and there is a dazed look on his face as Harmon leans in the corner catching his breath. Not taking too much time to recoup, Harmon forcibly Irish whips Ball-Ball into the corner padding and as Ball-Ball rebounds from the impact and slides out of the ring to try and catch a breath but Harmon leaps from the top rope. Suicide Plancha! ~

Smith: Ball tried to find relief sliding out of the ring but Harmon hasn’t let up with the plancha to Ball on the floor.

Hood: I can’t believe both men are up and heading back into the ring.

~ That’s exactly what happens. The two slide into the ring; Harmon quickly gets to his feet, as Ball somewhat hobbles on his ankle. Harmon goes for a takedown, but Ball is able to plant himself and drive elbows onto Harmon’s back, each one connecting down the spine, dropping Harmon to one knee. ~

Hood: This lanky ass motherfucker is really giving it to Harmon.

Smith: Ball Ball has been showing tremendous effort as of late, what did you expect?

Hood: I kinda expected his twig like limbs to have snapped in half by now

~ Ball drives elbow after elbow into Harmon before hitting a sloppy, but effective gutwrench suplex. Harmon grabs the back of his head, but Ball pushes him down and hooks the leg for the pin. ~

1..

2…

KICKOUT!

~ Ball wipes the sweat from his face, trying to catch his breath. He rises to his feet, pulling Harmon up with him before Irish whipping him against the ropes. Ball drops to his knees and catches Harmon on the rebound with a kneeling uppercut. As Harmon stands rocked, Ball now lifts him up into the air going for the Alley Oop! On the way down, Harmon is able to clamp his arms around Ball Ball’s neck as the two crash in the center of the ring. Harmon refuses to let go, nearly squeezing the life out of the Sudanese Sensation. Ball squirms and eventually gets loose of the choke, but Harmon is able to transition into the Mundi Comedentis (Calf Slicer) targeting the already injured leg. Almost immediately Ball begins to tap and Scruff calls for the bell. ~

~ DING DING DING ~

Belvedere: And your winner via submission... AND STILL OCW CRAZE CHAMPION... HARMON EGAN!!!!!!!!!!!

Smith: What a match! Ball Ball came very close!

Hood: Meghan Strader told The Commissioner once that close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades!

Smith: You remember what Meghan Strader said?

Hood: Well, she was pretty hot, so, yeah. I did.

Smith: Well that’s all the time we folks so tune in Next Weekend for the Go Home show live from MSG where PIC defends his OCW title against Marvelous Mike Mason! Goodnight everyone!

~ The broadcast fades out on Harmon Egan holding his OCW Craze Championship high in the air. ~

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