LIVE! Monday, March 27th 2017
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~The seventh showing of PIXELS within a 48 hour span ends. Viewers are about to commit suicide. That or cancel STARZ. I guess it would really depend on their life situation. Suddenly, the OCW logo appears. They put the knife down and smile. Highlights from Like There’s No Tomorrow air. MJ Bell winning the OCW Championship is shown. Max Shade BLASTING a hole into The Cube and becoming the OCW Ascension Championship is shown. Lance Savage drawing blood from Robert Morbidus is shown. Damian K’ shocking the OCW fans by putting PerZag through a table and winning the Oh Shit Contract is shown. Mack O’Connor outlasting a very game and determined CJ O’Donnell to retain his Savage Championship is shown. Matt Meyhu’s vicious attack is also thrown in. The tone in the music changes. It slows down and becomes more serious. The brawl that destroyed Greene and Fitzpatrick Street is shown. TIO and Vargas putting each other through every type of pain imaginable airs through a variety of vibrant and graphic photos. The lasting image of TIO clutching his Paradigm Championship in victory holds steady. It fizzles away~
~We cut to a jam packed OCW Arena!! Fans are going wild. MJ Bell merchandise seems to be the dominant apparel. While perusing the crowd, various signs, as always, catch our interest. “DANGEROUSLY GETS ASSASSINATED TONIGHT!” “PERZAG DID THE WORLD A FAVOR!” “I HAVE OFFICIALLY SHORTENED MY LAST NAME TO THE FIRST LETTER AND A DASH. I JUST GOT PROMOTED.” “MJ BELL IS MY HERO…ERR HEROINE.” “MAX SHADE IS A SUPER HERO” “LANCE SAVAGE DIDN’T CHEAT, HE JUST CRIES BLOOD” “IT’S A GOOD THING THE CUBE HAD A HOLE FOR MEYHU TO CLIMB THROUGH” “HOGS BREATH IS CLOSED FOR A WEEK, I’M PISSED” “HAS ANYBODY CONSIDERED THAT CAP SLOCK WRITES ALL THESE SIGNS?” We focus in on Smith and Hood. They are back in their normal, weekly attire~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! We are only one week removed from Like There’s No Tomorrow and I just have to say…
Hood: That there WAS a tomorrow. Tuesday’s hangover was HELLACIOUS
Smith: You’re not wrong there…but I was going to comment on how the event lived up to the hype and went down as one of the all-time great nights in company history.
Hood: Shit yea…I had a GREAT time. The title picture improved dramatically. While I’m no fan of the new OCW Champion, she’s certainly better than her predecessor. And Dr Orange is an Ascension Champion I think we can all be proud of.
Smith: Ahem, I think it’s Max Shade who will go down as the new Ascension Champion…NOT his egomaniacal manager.
Hood: Oh we’ll see about that.
Smith: Anyway…we saw six tremendous matches, two title changes and a main event that had the wrestling world abuzz.
Hood: Should have been three new champions. I’m not sure how you can throw a guy over board a cruise ship without facing some type of penalty. But, whatever.
Smith: You do have to wonder if that wound up costing CJ the match…but I will give The Distinguished One credit…despite his disadvantage he still nearly defeated a former OCW Champion.
Hood: Meyhu put that fucker in his place. One way or another The Aptitude is going to get that Savage Championship…whether it be CJ or Meyhu.
Smith: It certainly appears they are relentless in their pursuit of dominance. However, IF Meyhu were to secure that belt…would that cause any friction? You’d think, given the performance that CJ would be due a rematch.
Hood: Nah, those guys are like brothers. They are closer than Nathan and Jonathan
Smith: We also witnessed the most impressive debut by a rookie in recent memory. Damian K’ defeated Bob Grenier, PerZag, The Dravers, and Iggy Hardy, amongst others, to claim the Oh Shit Contract…now the question everyone wants to know…who is he going to cash in on?
Hood: Obviously MJ Bell, duh
Smith: Hood, that’s the one belt he can’t cash in on
Hood: Oh…well, what about the LightWeight Title.
Smith: A, that belt is retired. And B, he’s about thirty pounds too heavy.
Hood: Hmm, okay then, I give up…which belt?
Smith: That’s the point…nobody knows!
Hood: Then what the fuck are we even talking about?
Smith: I have no clue. Folks so much took place last week it’d take us probably many, many more words to cover it here in the opening. Fortunately, we’ve got action to get to both inside and outside the ring. This is a week that OCW fans are calling “Prove Yourself” Week. Lots of names looking to move up the card so they can be featured at our next super show.
Hood: Sweet…I’m always down for some new faces. I think I’d really like working in that dark dungeon place from Game of Thrones. You know with all those faces.
Smith: You wouldn’t last a day in that environment. It requires discipline.
Hood: Don’t you dash my dreams!
Smith: I wouldn't dare...but up first...wait a minute, hold on. I'm being told the champ is arriving! Let's head backstage!
Hood: Whoo!! TIO in DA HOUSE
Smith: THE champ, not A champ
Hood: Jackass
~The scene cuts to the parking lot out behind the OCW arena. A limo is seen parked, the camera pans to the back to see the license plate TREAT1. The cameras cut feeds to show the back of the limo where Treat Cassidy sits next to MJ Bell.~
Cassidy: MJ, you have gone back to the top of the mountain, darling! You are the flagship of OCW! You are carrying the company on your shoulders. Everyone is going to want a piece of you after LTNT. I will ensure that nobody gets to you. There is a line forming for people to get their shots. Will it be PerZag? Will it be Bob Greiner? Who knows. But we, will be ready! What do you want to do about CJ O’Donnell?
~She seems to find his words amusing judging by the smile on her features. The smile fades. ~
MJ Bell: I’d like to smack him with a chair, but that would invoke the wrath of Aptitude as a whole. First step was to take my title back and the second one is dealing with them. I’m not having them interfere in our matches again. They have to be shown the hard way that it can’t do whatever they please.
Cassidy: It is important that Welsh finally books Chad and yourself versus the Aptitude, you need a piece of CJ after what he did to you a couple of weeks ago, when he was so desperate to impress Alice Knight. Their time is coming, and now, it’s our time to shine.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Treat making plans with his number one client, the OCW Champion MJ BELL!
Hood: Do you think they had a picnic in the back of that limo?
Smith: I have no clue
Hood: I wonder if they swung into a McDonald’s drive thru and grabbed a couple of Big Macs
Smith: Gross
Hood: Fuck you and your gross shit. McDonald’s sells like a billion dollars’ worth of food a year. SOME people are eating it.
Smith: I guess…but back to our OCW Champion. Everyone dreams of reaching the summit of OCW. Yet, once they attain the apex they quickly realize it isn’t as fun as they were led to believe. EVERYBODY is constantly climbing to knock them off.
Hood: PerZag and The Aptitude…those are two pretty badass climbers. I bet they could scale Everest.
Smith: Perhaps…I doubt we’ll ever know. The point is MJ Bell is going to have challengers lined up as long as that belt is around her waist.
Hood: She’d better be fucking ready
Smith: I have no doubt that she will be. Nothing burns a person up more than being stripped of a title. This is her chance to right the wrong from nearly three years ago. She is not going to let it slip by.
Hood: Right, right…I totally believe all of that. But I also know that this is a very different OCW than the one she conquered in 2014.
Smith: Indeed…it will be fun to watch play out. And, speaking of champs, I'm told a former champ is standing by with something to say...
~In street clothes after learning he is not booked to wrestle this evening, Bob Grenier sits in the locker room completely dejected. Having lost 4 straight matches to opponents he should have normally manhandled, this is a sinking ship. Who'Re makes her way into the room~
Who're: Bob, You've lost 4 straight. Some say you've lost your edge, Others say the killer instinct you once possessed has been sucked away. Quite frankly you are a shell of the man I once knew. What's next?
Bob: A couple of weeks ago, I'd have had that answer. I'd have had all the answers to all the questions in the universe. The mighty has fallen now. It's time for me to stop talking and start doing. I've been humbled. There is only one challenge to make and in a few moments I'm going to head to that ring and lay it down. That's all I have to say.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: A dejected Grenier…we can only hope determination rises out of that dejection.
Hood: That or he’s been sick all week from that fucking Yak Piss. Like, seriously? Who just drinks Yak Piss based on the ‘word’ of a couple of Sharpies
Smith: Sharpies? Like the markers? I know Bob has dabbled in drug paraphernalia but I doubt he was talking to permanent markers.
Hood: No, no, those funny looking little people who help you climb mountains.
Smith: SHERPAS
Hood: Geez, calm down, you act like I’ve actually climbed a mountain. Closest I’ve ever come is the wall at Twin Peaks in Vegas. Shit is tough, man.
Smith: Your bravado knows no bounds, Hood
Hood: Damn straight, I heard a guy fell from that once and bruised his elbow
Smith: Regardless…Bob is going to make an announcement later tonight and I just hope it’s not THAT announcement
Hood: That he’s swearing off water and sticking with the Yak Piss?
Smith: NO…I’m talking about the R word
Hood: Bob’s RETARDED?
Smith: Never mind, let’s move on…it's time for our first match of the evening as Assassin and Jake E Dangerously...two men who won their debut matches nearly a month ago square off to continue their ascension up the OCW ladder!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall!!
~”The End of Heartache” by Killswitch Engage begins to play. The fans give a slightly negative reaction to the relative newcomer, Jake E Dangerously. He doesn’t care. He remains focused on the ring, heading down the ramp way and toward the ring. He steps up onto the apron, through the ropes and heads toward his corner, keeping his focus on the match~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Freddy Beach, New Brunswick, Canada…standing 6’0” tall and weighing in at 207 lbs…Jake E Dangerously!!!
~”Rock N Roll Train” by AC/DC hits. Again, the fans are slightly negative toward the relative newcomers. Assassin tosses the curtain aside and heads for the ring. Dangerously watches him from his corner. Assassin steps up the ring steps and enters into the ring. He, like Dangerously, is focused~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 285lbs…Assassin!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Alright Hood…interesting match up here. Both Assassin and Jake E Dangerously debuted on the same Massacre and walked away with impressive victories.
Hood: Oh cool…maybe they can both win tonight as well
Smith: That’s going to be hard considering they are facing one another.
Hood: They are? Sweet…I mean, yea, I knew that. I think I’m going to pull for this Dangerously guy...he’s looking very dangerous this evening.
~Dangerously rushes at Assassin and peppers him with lefts and rights. Assassin backs into his corner. Dangerously’s punches get harder and harder as he seems to reach back further and further. Assassin is slouched in the corner having difficulty fighting them off. Assassin finally blocks one but Dangerously responds with a head butt. He then knees Assassin the gut. Dangerously follows that up by wrapping his arms around Assassin’s gut and tossing him into the center of the ring with a Gut Wrench Suplex~
Smith: Fast start for Jake E Dangerously…he’s looking strong
Hood: Told ya…very dangerous man
Smith: I guess that would be somewhat implied by his name
Hood: Yes, I’m told he kicked the doctor in the face when he shot out of his mom’s vagina. Broke the doctor’s nose, man…dangerous dude.
~Dangerously runs toward the ropes…he bounces off and drops and elbow across the chest of Assassin. Dangerously gets back to his feet quickly and he stomps on Assassin, keeping him down for the time being. Dangerously heads for the corner. He climbs to the top. He stands up looking quite dangerous. Assassin stumbles to his feet. Dangerously leaps off with a cross body and connects!! He remains on top of Assassin for the pin~
1!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Nice move by Jake E Dangerously but he’s going to need more than that
Hood: I’m not sure how effective Assassin is at his job…seems kind of lame to me
Smith: Hey, it’s early…you have to give these matches time to percolate
Hood: Whatever the fuck that means…sounds kinda gay
~Dangerously doesn’t let the near fall bother him. He’s back to his feet and grabs a handful of Assassin’s hair. He pulls Assassin to his feet and tosses him into the ropes…Assassin bounces off and Dangerously puts his head down. Assassin kicks him in the face! Dangerously straightens up and staggers backward. Assassin drops him with a clothesline~
Smith: And now Assassin has taken advantage…putting the ole head down, it can really cause some problems.
Hood: I never put my head down…not even when I used to sleep in class
Smith: Really? So I guess you would just stay awake in class like a good student
Hood: Nah, I’d just lean back and sleep like normal.
Smith: And your teachers had no problem with you openly sleeping like that?
Hood: I don’t know. I’m a very deep sleeper.
~Assassin stays on top of Dangerously…pulling him to his feet. He knees him in the gut and hooks Dangerously’s head between his legs. Quickly he hoists Dangerously up and plants him into the center of the ring. Assassin makes a ‘gun’ gesture with his hand and ‘shoots’ the body of Dangerously. A few fans boo but most just observe his mannerisms~
Smith: Vicious powerbomb
Hood: Yes he did bomb him to the mat…powerfully
Smith: I think the fans are still getting adjusted to both Dangerously and Assassin
Hood: What’s the need for adjusting or understanding? Dangerously is dangerous and Assassin kills people for money.
Smith: I don’t believe that about Assassin!
Hood: Oh so you think he just does it for fun…like an ideological Assassin? Hmm, could be
~Assassin yanks Dangerously to his feet. He kicks him in the gut and hooks him for a suplex. Assassin lifts Dangerously up high, gets him vertical and then drops him on his head with a Brainbuster!!! Dangerously is laid flat out as Assassin sits up and smiles, enjoying himself~
Smith: Well, aside from the rough start it’s been all Assassin
Hood: Do Assassins have huge butts?
Smith: Excuse me?
Hood: Well the name is like double ass…so I was just wondering if all Assassins had, ya know, wide asses.
Smith: I don’t think so…does Assassin look like he has a giant rear?
Hood: C’mon, even if he did…you know I’d never own up to it on air. Don’t want to get on the bad side of an ideological assassin.
~Assassin grabs Dangerously by the hair and gets to his feet, dragging Dangerously along with him. He lifts Dangerously up onto his shoulder and positions him. He stands still for a moment, posing toward the crowd and smiling. Then, in one quick, efficient move downward he spikes Dangerously’s head into the mat with Assassination!!! He covers Dangerously as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ASSASSIN!!!!!
Smith: Smooth sailing for Assassin after the beginning of the match. He looked very sharp in disposing of a man we all thought was going to be a factor in OCW.
Hood: Jake E Dangerously wasn’t very dangerous tonight.
Smith: No, he was not
Hood: But, yea, Assassin looks good…should be interesting to see where he goes from here.
Smith: Indeed! He will get his shot to continue his rise up the ranks. Now, let’s head backstage.
~Inside the OCW's vehicle bay, we see two vehicles pull up. One is a limousine, and the other is a pizza delivery van, with the words "Tangelo's Authentic-Style Pizza & Subs" written on the side. Both vehicles pull to a stop. After a few moments, Dr. Jon Orange emerges from one side of the limo, while Max Shade comes out of the other door. Two delivery workers exit the delivery van and slide the side door open, revealing some large stacks of pizza boxes~
~Dr. Orange steps confidently over to the delivery van and watches the men work~
DR. ORANGE: Come on, come on, get the dollies out. Let's get these pies inside while I'm still young and handsome.
~The delivery fellows visibly stifle the urge to retort. Max, standing nearby, just smirks and rolls his eyes. He has the Ascension Championship draped over his broad beefy shoulder, and is wearing a t-shirt with a giant robot on it. Dr. Orange turns towards Max and adjusts his tie~
DR. ORANGE: Max, I need you by my side tonight, as much as possible. Seems like not a week goes by that I don't get attacked by some schmuck or another. Incredible, truly sad. This entire organization should be brought up on assault charges, messing with an old man like me.
~Max grunts and nods, but doesn't seem particularly enthusiastic about being Dr. Orange's bodyguard. Dr. Orange addresses the camera crew~
DR. ORANGE: Oh hey, it's my favorite people, the OCW press corps. Well, come on, get those cameras over here, I'll clue you in. You see all these delicious, mouth-watering pizzas? These are for members of the OCW staff, roster, and crew that HAVEN'T tussled my face bones since we got here. It's kind of a reward, an incentive. Giving back to the community if you will. You know who isn't getting any of this pizza? Iggy Hardy, the Dravers boys, anyone that works the security team around this pit of stupid, and especially, ESPECIALLY, not Rebel. None for him. He wants a free meal from me, then he can eat my shit and thank me for the honor. It's what he deserves. Gobble it up, jerkwad.
~Max lumbers just behind Dr. Orange's shoulder, with one of his giant hands holding the Ascension Championship belt in place upon his shoulder. Dr. Orange points to Max, smiles, and looks at the camera~
DR. ORANGE: And hey, hey, Rebel... If you got some room left for dessert, after sucking down my tangy turds? Well, Max Shade here is going to sate that hunger with a smorgasbord of lip-smacking favorites. Well, MY favorites, anyways. There are few things I enjoy more in life than watching Max ply his craft on the flesh of dense wankers like you. He's so good at it, lemmie tell ya. Totally the best there is. Absolute professional. Magnificent.
~Max smirks and nods. The pizza delivery guys wheel by with two dollies carrying large stacks of pizza. Dr. Orange nods his acknowledgement at the food delivery guys and turns to the camera~
DR. ORANGE: Tonight... The Ebony Colossus continues his path of destruction through you. Tonight, Rebel will go hungry in so many ways. He will hunger for the best pizza in all of Florida, and he will hunger for an end to his inevitable losing streak. And hey, while the rest of you are sucking down my saucy slices, I want you to keep an eye on ol' Max here. Get a mouthful of authentic-style genius, and an eyeful of your terrible, terrible fates. I'm done and finished with taking crap from this roster, and that's why my client's mission statement now includes giving all of you the grievous bodily harm you deserve, for making my life here so very annoying. I can be such a nice guy to everyone here, but keep ticking me off, and you're gonna also see how much of a bastard I can be.
~Max narrows his eyes and looks from side to side. He is still clearly annoyed with his new task, however he also knows he's obligated to do this job to the best of his abilities. Dr. Orange puts his left hand into his pocket and continues gesticulating with his right hand~
DR. ORANGE: Tonight... Rebel will serve as an example of WHY you don't cross Dr. Jon Orange. And hey, hey... I know some of you are gonna get froggy, think this is some sort of a challenge, and dive balls-first towards the very danger I'm warning you about, simply because the paste you ate as children is still stuck to the common sense parts of your rattled brains. And that's fine. Just fine. A lot of you preschool dropouts get sick little boners from picking on an old man, and again... just fine. You can either enjoy my pizzas, or my client's righteous retribution. All I'm saying is... OCW... Consider very carefully your next move...
~A pizza box is being held near Dr. Orange. He opens it up, and lifts out a slice of Italian sausage pizza. He leans into the camera, speaking in a half-whisper, half-growl~
DR. ORANGE: Because one way or another, you're all gonna get a mouthful of my sausage... And the pleasure is going to be all mine.
~Max buries his face into his palm. Dr. Orange puts on his biggest, slimiest smile, hands the slice off to a nearby worker, and salutes the camera before following the delivery guys into the back. Max follows, two steps behind, pausing momentarily to glance back at the camera. He looks, sees that Dr. Orange isn't looking at him, and then holds up the Ascension Championship title, points to it aggressively, and gets the biggest, craziest grin on his face. He then holds his free hand up in a "devil horns" sign and lolls his tongue out enthusiastically while waggling his head~
DR. ORANGE: Max! Stay by me!
~Max sighs, wipes the goofy look off his face, and waves a polite goodbye to the camera before lumbering away. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: That was nice to see
Hood: Yes, Dr. Orange…a man of mercy, a man of charity…bringing food for us all to enjoy!
Smith: I was talking about Max’s momentary display of personality. You have to wonder what Max would be like if he were able to truly spread his wings
Hood: What are you talking about? Dr Orange IS his wings. If he lost Dr Orange he’d fall straight to the Earth…and it’d be a loud thud because he’s a big guy.
Smith: Right…well his undefeated streak is on the line later tonight against Rebel…a man who nearly dethroned TIO a few weeks ago.
Hood: Rebel…sounds like the name of a guy who could USE a manager like Dr Orange
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood.
Hood: You just wait and see
Smith: That I will...in the meantime we've got a highly intriguing match up next. Robbie Rayder, one of OCW's most promising rising stars will take on the very talented but inconsistent Mark Storm
Hood: Storm on the horizon?
Smith: We're about to find out!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is scheduled for one fall!
~ The lights in the arena begin to dim and the OCW audience rise to their feet, as the nostalgic melody of "Bad Guy" by Jordon Comoli begins to play through the PA speakers. Smoke begins to rise from the stage and the audience begin to applaud, as emerging from the clouded mist is the self-proclaimed spokesman of a generation - Mark Storm, who stands tall at the top of the entrance ramp. A smile is plastered on his face as he marvels at the scenery, embracing all the cheers as he close his eyes and widens his arms before coming down the ramp~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 220lbs…he is the schizophrenic prince of wrestling...Mark Storm!!!
~Standing by the edge of the ring, he lets out a triumphant roar, with the audience roaring back to him as he jumps onto the apron before he slingshots his way over the top rope. Dressed in his usual wrestling attire; consisting black boots, with black knee pads, wrestling trunks with his name written on them and with stars coming down both sides, tape wrapped around his elbows, and mixed martial arts styled gloves. He falls to his knees in the middle of the ring, looking up at the heavens as his theme music slowly begins to fade out~
~The lights dim as a red siren light circles the arena. 'Indestructible' by Disturbed plays as Robbie Rayder, weighing his ring attire and color matching cape, walks out and kneels down. He points his index fingers to the ceiling then lowers them to point at the ring. Rayder looks out at the crowd as he walks half way down towards the ring, then pulling the cape off from his neck. He slides into the ring, front flips up, drops to a knee and points to the ceiling again, then lowers his index fingers to point at the opponent~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Vancouver, British Columbia, standing 5’9 and weighing in at 195lbs…Robbie ‘Aire’ Rayder!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Interesting match up here…Robbie Rayder lost a tough match against Max Shade and Iggy Hardy a few weeks ago. Mark Storm, meanwhile, had a poor showing last week at Like There’s No Tomorrow.
Hood: Definitely one of those pivotal matches…one guy shoots up rankings, the other guy goes back to the opening match.
Smith: Indeed...this one is truly a toss-up.
Hood: And since Rayder can jump higher than Storm, I’d say he’s got the advantage in a toss up
~Rayder extends his hand. Storm slaps it. The crowd claps. It’s a rare show of OCW sportsmanship…definitely not classic. The two circle one another…they lock up! Rayder uses every ounce of mass he has to leverage against the bigger Storm. Storm leans back, finding Rayder stronger than he expected. He plants his back foot and pushes forward. His size overpowers Rayder…he bullies him into the ropes. Scruff comes in and forces a break. It’s clean. Storm backs into the center of the ring, giving Rayder space~
Smith: Ah, good clean wrestling…I love it
Hood: This must be what watching a black and white movie is like
Smith: Classy? Dignified? A source of sophistication?
Hood: Fucking gay
~Rayder meets Storm in the center of the ring. They lock up once more. Storm is ready this time, using his full leverage from the go. He tries to bully Rayder into the corner, but Rayder is expecting it. He quickly spins out of the lock up and hooks Storm around the waist. Storm searches around with his hands, trying to find a way out. Storm reaches over and grabs Rayder by the head…he flips him over with a snapmare. Rayder lands on his feet and mule kicks Storm in the face!!! Storm falls on his ass, holding his mouth in pain~
Smith: Wow! What quickness and agility by Robbie Rayder!
Hood: Dude is quick…either that or I’ve set my brain on fast forward somehow
Smith: You can do that?
Hood: I don’t think so…only time I’ve ever pulled it off effectively was when I ran opposite a parade.
~Rayder sprints into the ropes…he shoots off and throws a knee at Storm’s face. Storm falls back and ducks. Rayder shoots off the ropes again, he sprints toward Storm and lays out, kicking him in the back of the head! Storm slumps over and nearly falls to his side. Rayder reaches out and snatches Storm into a headlock. Storm winces, breathing heavily...he’s in bad shape~
Smith: The quickness and kicks from Robbie Rayder have stunned Storm and he looks unlikely to recover.
Hood: He’s Mark Storm…the dude isn’t a hurricane, he’s a tornado. There’s no sign of life and then BAM out of nowhere he wrecks shit.
Smith: Sound analogy
Hood: Twiclone is what I like to call him. I think it’s got more marketability than Cyster.
Smith: They are equally awful
Hood: Fuck you
~Storm starts to power to his feet, realizing the danger of his predicament. He gets to his feet…the smaller Rayder holds on, trying to keep Storm subdued. He switches into a sleeper. As he does, Storm drops to his ass…Rayder falls backward after receiving a short, effective jaw breaker!! He stumbles into the ropes. Storm gets to his feet…Rayder bounces off the ropes and Storm nails him in the side of the head with a roundhouse kick. Rayder falls through the ropes, landing on the apron~
Smith: Nice comeback by Mark Storm
Hood: Told ya, dude is a tornado
Smith: He did summon that offense from nowhere so, yea, you’re not completely off base
Hood: And just when you think the guy is going to win…his leg will fall off or something equally ridiculous
Smith: I certainly hope not!
~Storms sprints across the ring, he hits the ropes, ricochets off and runs toward Rayder who is crouched on the apron. Storm slides with a kick…Rayder jumps into the air, avoiding Storm’s legs. He hops onto the top rope and balances himself. He then leaps off as Storm is halfway under the bottom rope with his chest and head in the ring. Rayder goes for a double foot stomp. Storm slides out of the ring and Rayder jams both legs into the mat. Storm grabs his legs and yanks Rayder out of the ring and across his shoulders…he the drops Rayder with an Attitude Adjustment onto the barricade!!! Rayder’s back his hard and he falls into the crowd~
Smith: Robbie Rayder was concerned with the depth of Mark Storm’s arsenal and, well, we just saw why
Hood: This is a different Mark Storm, Smith. He’s better than he’s ever been.
Smith: Well, we didn’t see that at Like There’s No Tomorrow
Hood: Hey, everybody is prone to a bad night. If he wins this match, then all is well.
Smith: Indeed
~Storm reaches over the barricade and grabs Rayder by the hair. He yanks Robbie to his feet…Robbie’s back is to Storm. Storm hooks him and lifts him into the air with an inverted suplex. He falls back and drops Rayder, gut first into the apron!!! Rayder hits hard and falls off the apron kicking his legs and rolling around in pain. Storm sits up and checks his elbow to see if he rubbed it raw from impact. He casually looks around afterward~
Smith: Geezus!
Hood: Holy shit…Storm is dropping an EF4 on Robbie Rayder
Smith: No EF5?
Hood: Not yet…but that shit is building
~Storm stands up and grabs Rayder. He rolls him into the ring. Storm hops onto the apron and stands, poised. Rayder gets to his feet…Storm leaps onto the top rope and bounces off…he flies through the air and drills Rayder with a forearm!! Rayder hits the mat hard and isn’t moving nearly as much as he did after the previous two moves. Storm gets to his feet looking fresh~
Smith: Storm is building!
Hood: He’s reaching that EF5 status!
Smith: We could be looking at a decisive win
Hood: Too bad Vortex and Debris aren’t here to witness this…it’d bring a tear to their eyes
~Storm rolls Rayder onto his front and hooks him around the waist. He picks Rayder up for a Gut Wrench Suplex…instead he lifts Rayder all the way up and DRILLS him into the mat with a Gut Wrench Powerbomb!!! He holds on for the pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Wow, that was pretty close for so early
Hood: True but Storm has unleashed a tornadic FLURRY…or FURY…or…well, you know, he’s beat the shit out of Rayder for the past five minutes.
Smith: I can’t argue with any of that…aside from your language
~Storm grabs Rayder by the hair. He’s relentless in his offense. He yanks Rayder to his feet and drills him with a few forearm uppercuts. Storm keeps a grip on Rayder’s arm to keep him from falling over~
Smith: Look, Hood! He’s holding onto Rayder’s arm…he’s going to try and end this match with the Storm Strike…it’s a short arm clothesline that NOBODY kicks out of
Hood: Well he should go ahead and do it then…we’ve got an EF5 on the horizon!
Smith: Here it comes!
~Storm rears back and lunges forward for the Storm Strike!!! Rayder ducks!! Rayder rushes into the ropes. Storm turns around. Rayder leaps into the air after bouncing off the ropes…Storm catches him and tosses Rayder over his shoulder. Rayder slips off of Storm’s back. Storm turns around and is nailed with a superkick!!! Storm staggers into a nearby corner, shaking his head~
Smith: Robbie Rayder avoided certain defeat using speed, quickness and tenacity!
Hood: Uh oh, I’m being told this tornado has been downgraded to an EF3
Smith: Wow, that was quick
Hood: That’s the weather for ya, Smith. Very capricious.
~Rayder slowly gets to his feet. By the time he does Storm is upright and looking composed. He charges at Rayder with a lariat…Rayder bends backward, remaining on his feet. Storm slams into the corner. Rayder turns around, places his legs into Storms back and drops him with a backstabber!!! Storm bounces into the air and rolls out of the ring, hitting the floor roughly. The fans start to get behind Rayder with chants of “Robbie! Robbie!”~
Smith: How quickly the momentum can shift when you’re wrestling an opponent like Aire Rayder!
Hood: We’re down to an EF1 now…looking like the storm might be over
Smith: Well that’s a shame
Hood: Yep, they always go away too soon…I’ll be sitting there watching the videos on Youtube and these badass storms will be ripping through homes and stuff and then it will go away…always leaves me wanting more.
Smith: That’s awful
~Robbie hops over the top rope and lands on the apron. Storm is on his back, laying on the outside. Rayder leaps off with a standing shooting star press…Storm gets his knees up!!! Rayder lands right into Storm’s knees! He gets to his feet and falls against the barricade, holding his abdomen in pain. Storm climbs to his feet and rushes in, lifting a knee into the gut of Rayder. Robbie collapses to his knees~
Smith: Mark Storm is back in it!!
Hood: Storm is strengthening, Smith!! We’re back up to an EF3!!
Smith: Okay, I think we’ve had enough of meteorologist Hood
Hood: Impossible!
~Storm lifts Rayder up over his head for a press slam. He walks toward the ring and tosses Rayder in through the ropes. Storm rolls in under the bottom rope and quickly returns to his feet. He yanks Rayder up and knees him in the gut. Rayder nearly falls over. Storm hooks Rayder’s head and lifts him up into the air for a suplex…he then drops him to the mat with a Brianbuster!!~
Smith: It’s picking up…Mark Storm is one or two moves away from victory.
Hood: It’s hard to hear you over here, Smith. We’ve got an EF4 storm rolling through the ring!!
Smith: Please, stop with the hysterics
Hood: I can’t…this storm is LEGIT
~Storm pulls Rayder back to his feet and hoists him over his shoulders. He’s looking for a GTS. Rayder, having scouted Storm realizes this…he elbows Storm in the side of the head repeatedly. Storm’s legs struggle and he drops Rayder. Rayder sprints into the ropes…Storm turns around and Rayder goes for a Sick Kick!! Storm drops to the mat and Rayder misses!! He slides into the ropes, which keep him from falling out of the ring. Storm gets back to his feet and he goes back after Rayder~
Smith: Nice try by Robbie Rayder but Mark Storm saw it coming
Hood: It’s getting bad out here, Smith…this EF4 is picking up steam and could be an EF5 in moments…if that happens, we’re done for!
Smith: Thanks for the report you wannabe Storm Chaser
Hood: I didn’t chase this Storm, Smith…he came to us!
~Storm drags Rayder into the center of the ring by his hair. He yanks Rayder to his feet…Rayder is wobbly. Storm shoves Rayder back, holding onto his arm. He pulls Rayder forward and lunges with the Storm Strike!!! Rayder ducks!! Rayder runs for the ropes, he bounces off…Storm turns around and gets SMACKED in the face with the Sick Kick!!! Storm falls flat on his back as Rayder hustles for the nearest corner. The crowd gets to their feet with anticipation~
Smith: Robbie Rayder is one move away from sealing the win!
Hood: Uh oh, I’m hearing the Storm has downgraded to an EF2
Smith: Please, enough!
~Rayder is perched on the top. Storm is on his back. Rayder leaps off with the Aire Rayde(Red Arrow)!!!! He nails it perfectly!!! He hooks Storm’s leg as Scruff comes in for the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings as the crowd gives Rayder a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ROBBIE “AIRE” RAYDER!!!!!
Smith: And just like that Robbie Rayder grasps victory from the veteran and talented Mark Storm!
Hood: And…just like that…the tornado has lifted into the clouds, gone forever. It’s okay, Smith…the Storm is over…we are safe.
Smith: Could you be serious for a moment and give me some input on the match?
Hood: Uhh, I think I’ve been doing that this entire time
Smith: Right…well Robbie Rayder looked great tonight. He had an awesome debut. He fought hard and lost a tough match against Max Shade and then took a few weeks off. Tonight he showed that he’s here to stay.
Hood: Yea, dude is quick and talented. Should be fun to watch moving forward.
Smith: Indeed! Well folks we’re moving along nicely tonight with great in ring action and impressive members of the roster. Before we continue…let’s head backstage.
~A backstage door opens, and Mack O’Connor stumbles through. Both drunk and high off of pain killers, he’s still in nothing but his boxers and a hospital gown. He has the Savage Championship belt draped over his shoulder. He has the open Jameson bottle in one hand, and an open 22oz bottle of barleywine in the other~
Mack: Where the FUCK are they?! Where?!
~An OCW Stage Hand runs up to Mack~
Stage Hand: Mr. O’Connor… You weren’t scheduled to be here today…
~Mack shoves the Stage Hand out of the way~
Mack: Meyhu! O’Donnell! Bishop! Where the fuck are you?!
~Mack takes a large swig of the barleywine and keeps walking down a backstage hallway~
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
~Mack raises an eyebrow, wondering what exactly he is hearing. He continues to walk down the hallway until he sees Iggy Hardy. Iggy is standing at a doorway. He pounds his head into the door~
Iggy: FUCK!
~Iggy slams his head into the wall again~
Iggy: FUCK!
Mack: What the shit…
~Iggy turns to Mack, who takes a step back. Iggy is shaking with intensity, and Mack is completely aware of his heightened state. Mack offers the bottle of barleywine to him. Iggy grabs the bottle, chugs every last drop of it, then smashes the bottle over his head~
Iggy: FUCK ‘EM ALL!
~Mack is completely confused. Mack decides to point down the hallway~
Mack: There! They went that way!
Iggy: GO! GO! GO!
~Iggy sprints down the hallway. Mack lets out a sigh of relief before gaining his focus once again~
Mack: Where the fuck are they…
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: I guess Iggy is getting ready for his match later this evening…
Hood: Now THAT’S how you go through therapy. Mack O’Connor is a visionary, Smith. He’s a man that knows how to get shit done.
Smith: What do you think he thought when he found Iggy Hardy instead of The Aptitude?
Hood: Probably nothing…guy was lit, didn’t you see? That’s probably the best mental state to be in when you accidentally bump into an intense Iggy Hardy
Smith: Perhaps…good thing our Savage Champion got the week off…he’s, well, he’s been in better shape
Hood: Don’t be so dramatic…that’s how Mack always looks when he’s not wrestling
Smith: I doubt that
Hood: Oh no, it’s true. The hospital gown makes it easier to piss. Because ya know, when you’re shit faced you have to piss like every ten minutes. Mack’s a true pro at being shit faced.
Smith: OCW…a promotion with champions we can all be proud of
Hood: Damn straight!
Smith: Hopefully he sobers up before stumbling upon Matt Meyhu
Hood: He should just call him on the cell phone like Nathan Dravers called that Who’Re way back when. Drunks LOVE using their cell phones…or so I’ve heard
Smith: I personally wouldn’t know…anyway, it’s time for our next match as the man we just saw takes on Chaotic
Hood: They are going to let a drunken Mack wrestle in his hospital gown?
Smith: I'm talking about IGGY HARDY
Hood: Oh, good...that makes alot more sense
Smith: Let's head down to ringside!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is scheduled for one fall!
~”Respect” by CFO$ begins to play. The fans give a solid ovation to the relative newcomer, likable Chaotic. He motions toward the crowd, working the cheers louder. He hustles down to ringside, jumps onto the apron and flips over the top rope into the ring, landing on his feet. The entrance pleases the crowd as he gets a solid ovation~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 198lbs…Chaotic!!!
~”INTENSITY” SCREAMS through the PA system. The fans cover their ears it’s so loud. “Top of the World” by Van Halen follows up the unexpected, loud yell. Iggy Hardy calmly steps from behind the curtain. The fans break out into an “IGGY!” chant as he waves at the fans and smiles. He flexes his huge biceps for a second or two before calmly walking to the ring. He slowly ascends the steps and enters through the ropes. He shakes Belvedere’s hand~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Hawk’s Bluff, North Carolina…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 230lbs…Iggy Hardy!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Alright Hood…Iggy Hardy had an INTENSE showing at Like There’s No Tomorrow but came up short…he’s in desperate need of a win.
Hood: Desperate times call for desperate measures. Times of desperation call for acts of desperations. Moments of despair call for thoughts of despair…
Smith: Okay that’s enough
Hood: Hey I’m just trying to be all analytical like you
Smith: Yea, well you’re awful at it
~Iggy walks up to Chaotic and tries to shake his hand. Chaotic, in a dyspeptic manner, informs Iggy that he threw him halfway across the ring earlier in the week. Iggy doesn’t seem to recall this. But he takes the heat for it saying, “If I did that, then I am sorry, friend.” Chaotic softens and shakes Iggy’s hand. Iggy smiles~
Smith: Tough situation if you’re Chaotic.
Hood: No shit, he’s in there with a fucking psycho
Smith: If he leaves Iggy alone then he can’t win, but Iggy won’t get INTENSE. However, if he tries to win he’s going to agitate Iggy and, thus, awaken his INTENSITY.
Hood: Why do you say it like that…all loud and shit?
Smith: Because it’s the way Iggy would want me to say it
~Iggy reaches for a lock up. Chaotic grabs Iggy’s arm and ties it around his back, applying some pressure. Iggy winces…Chaotic looks a bit sheepish, expecting Iggy to freak. Iggy, however, remains calm. In an act of quickness and wrestling prowess, Iggy reverse the position, grabbing Chaotic’s arm and pinning it against his back. He applies his own amount of pressure. Chaotic winces and slaps at his arm. He backs Iggy near the corner. Iggy yanks, shooting pain through Chaotic’s arm. Instinctively, Chaotic reaches back and elbows Iggy in the face! The crowd gasps with horror as Iggy bends over, staring at the mat~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: Well, Chaotic has fucked up
Smith: I really think Iggy needs to go to rehab before wrestling again…to be too scared to wrestle a man for fear he’s going to summon some type of herculean strength and possibly murder you is, well, not a safe work environment.
Hood: Dude, we just had guys wrestle over the ocean with a hungry Tiger Shark swimming around. I think we can deal with Iggy Hardy and his awesome recreational drug use.
~Hardy slowly raises his head. He takes in a few deep breaths and, remains calm. He pats Chaotic on the shoulder saying, “That’s okay.” He breathes in and out and walks around the ring with Chaotic looking on, confused. Hardy refocuses and stands in the middle of the ring and motions for Chaotic to meet him there. Chaotic does and they shake hands. They quickly lock up as the fans seem somewhat discontent with Iggy’s new demeanor~
Smith: I wonder if Iggy has reflected on his recent performances and reached the conclusion that remaining calm might render increased success
Hood: Yea, that or he’s just fucking weird
Smith: Yea, you’re probably right
~Chaotic shoots Iggy into the ropes…Iggy bounces off and Chaotic tosses him across the ring with an arm drag. Iggy pops back to his feet and runs at Chaotic…he’s tossed with another arm drag. Iggy is back to his feet a third time and is met with a picturesque dropkick from Chaotic!! Iggy hits the mat and rolls out of the ring, working his jaw back and forth. He remains calm and smiles telling a few fans nearby, “Nice dropkick. He really got me with that one! This guy is good!”~
Smith: I think we might be seeing a reformed Iggy Hardy
Hood: Ugh, I hope not. This Iggy Hardy sucks
Smith: It’s not about your opinion, Hood. It’s about winning matches…if this is what he has to do to be successful, then he should do it.
Hood: But he’s not having success…Chaotic is kicking his ass.
~Chaotic nears the ropes and holds onto the top. Iggy rounds the corner…not paying much attention, just kind of laughing to himself. Chaotic leaps over the top rope with a corkscrew plancha!! He lands on top of Iggy, taking him down!! Chaotic lands on his feet and throws an arm into the air. The crowd responds with cheers~
Smith: I have to say, I did not expect this
Hood: I did
Smith: You did?
Hood: Yea it’s totally unexpected
Smith: But…
Hood: Always expect the unexpected in Iggy Hardy matches
~Chaotic yanks Iggy back to his feet and drills him in the gut with a few punches. Iggy doubles over. Chaotic smoothly transitions into a DDT on the outside. Iggy plants face first and remains on the floor, motionless. Chaotic lifts the heavy, muscled man to his feet and with great trouble and expending tremendous energy is able to roll him inside the ring, under the bottom rope. Chaotic climbs onto the apron and heads toward the nearest corner~
Smith: Wow…Chaotic could win it right here
Hood: Would be shocking for sure…could throw the entire roster into CHAOS
Smith: Hardly
Hood: Hardly? I thought Iggy’s name was Hardy
Smith: It is
Hood: Oh I get it…so when he’s not intense we call him Iggy Hardly, cool…makes sense.
~Chaotic reaches the top and turns his back to Iggy. He jumps off with a moonsault and nails it!! He remains on top of Iggy for the pin. Scruff comes in to make the count~
1!
2!
IGGY POWERS OUT!!
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: He’s INTENSE
Smith: This should be interesting
~Iggy is on his knees frothing at the mouth and breathing heavily. His eyes are like saucers…he looks around the ring as Chaotic is back to his feet looking around, anxiously. He rushes over and kicks Iggy in the face. Iggy powers to his feet and grabs Chaotic by the throat. He yells “FUCKING MASKS ARE FOR FUCKING PUSSIES!!” He LAUNCHES Chaotic over the top rope and to the floor! Chaotic lands roughly on his back and writhes around in pain. Iggy begins to sprint around the ring in full INTENSE mode. The crowd gets behind him~
Smith: Déjà vu from last week for Chaotic
Hood: Must be having Grenada like flashbacks
Smith: Grenada, huh?
Hood: Absolute brutality. 9 Helicopters were lost, Smith. NINE
Smith: Are you being serious or is that your inappropriate Nazi impersonation?
Hood: I think you should be the judge of that, comrade.
~Iggy reaches the side of the ring facing Chaotic. Chaotic is on his feet hobbling around. Iggy doesn’t seem to be paying attention to Chaotic’s whereabouts…until he suddenly LEAPS through the air, over the top rope with a standing moonsault! He clears the top rope and lands right on top of Chaotic!! He pops to his feet and sprints around the ring to chants of “IGGY! IGGY!”~
Smith: There’s got to be a happy medium
Hood: Is that like a Happy Meal?
Smith: Not quite…I’m simply stating he’s got to be able to function at a high level without being so…well, high.
Hood: Why are you always trying to water down great people and their amazing personalities?
Smith: Because, honestly, I can see an occasion where he throws ME into the crowd and, well, that’s not something I’d like to experience.
Hood: I can envision that as well…which is why I highly encourage his actions.
~Iggy’s sprint has come full SQUARED circle. He stops, standing near Chaotic’s battered body. He pulls Chaotic to his feet with INTENSITY in his eyes and blood pounding through every vein in his neck. He power lifts Chaotic over his head and THROWS him nearly ten rows deep into the crowd!! Hardy yells out, “FUCK LUCHA!!!” The fans all collapse from Chaotic’s impact. One lady screams out in pain. Iggy calms down, seeing a woman holding her arm in pain. He steps over the barricade and walks over to check on her~
Smith: Is this the moment when Iggy Hardy goes too far?
Hood: That woman is just being a pussy
Smith: You try having a professional athlete land on you…see how good you feel.
Hood: This is why women shouldn’t be allowed to attend these shows…one little nail break and we’ve got to call the paramedics.
~Iggy politely cuts through some fans, finding the injured woman. It’s a middle aged MILF. Her son isn’t concerned with his mother’s ailing injury. He’s too enamored with IGGY HARDY. He asks Iggy for an autograph…Iggy tells the kid to calm down. He bends over and looks at the woman’s leg. Chaotic jumps Iggy from behind! Iggy falls on top of the kid’s mother. The kid turns against Iggy, punching him in the back. Chaotic yanks Iggy by the hair and drags him back toward the barricade as the kid is restrained by several fans knowing that Iggy could rip him in half. Chaotic tosses Iggy over the barricade. The kid’s mom stands up, her arm feeling better. She’s flush and slightly aroused by her interaction with Iggy. She calls over a nearby employee and buys an Iggy shirt, putting it on immediately~
Smith: Iggy Hardy has a new fan!
Hood: Full blown MILF right there…kid might have a new dad before the night is over.
Smith: I’m not sure Iggy is qualified to be looking over children
Hood: They can always put the kid up for adoption. I mean you saw how quickly that woman healed when Iggy got on top of her…she’d drop that brat in an instant.
Smith: It really is a good thing you never had kids
Hood: Something we can both agree on!
~Chaotic hops atop the barricade…he waits for Iggy to get to his feet…Iggy does and Chaotic leaps off with a huricanrana…he tosses Iggy toward the ring…the momentum sends Iggy under the bottom rope, into the ring! Chaotic gets back to his feet and leaps onto the apron…he leaps up onto the top rope, balancing…Iggy is back to his feet…Chaotic leaps off with ANOTHER huricanrana…he holds onto this one for a pin…Scruff slides in and makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Close one there! Chaotic nearly defeated the unpredictable Iggy Hardy!
Hood: Interesting…Iggy, like Mark Storm, is a Tornado…and Chaotic did those Hurricane Annas
Smith: Huricanrana!
Hood: Huh? They aren’t hurricanes named after some destructive bitch named Anna?
Smith: Nope
~Iggy is back to his feet after kicking out. He staggers into a corner, sweating profusely. He doesn’t seem himself. There is a lack of intensity. Chaotic gets back to his feet and he sprints in, lifting a knee into the face of Iggy!! Iggy staggers out of the corner. Chaotic hops onto the middle rope and jumps off, drilling Iggy in the back of the head with a flying knee!! Chaotic gets back to his feet and throws his arms into the air…the crowd is beginning to get into his high flying, entertaining style. A few ‘Chaotic’ chants start to break out~
Smith: This is how you win over a crowd, Hood. You dazzle them with an array of entertaining moves.
Hood: Or you could just take off the fucking mask
Smith: Do you seriously think the mask hinders a person’s ability to get ‘over’ with the fans?
Hood: Absolutely…when a guy walks into a gas station wearing a ski mask you don’t see everyone applauding and being all friendly with him. Masks scare people, Smith.
~Chaotic yanks Iggy to his feet by the hair. He positions him, lifts him up and drops Iggy’s head into the mat with a piledriver!! Chaotic is back to his feet, quickly. He pulls Iggy up again and whips him into the ropes…Iggy bounces off and Chaotic drills him in the face with a high heel kick!! Iggy falls again, on his back, center of the ring. Chaotic points to the nearest corner and the fans respond positively. He hops over Iggy, in doing so, he accidentally kicks Iggy in his left ear. Iggy’s body begins to convulse~
Smith: I think Chaotic is looking to hit his Shooting Star Press
Hood: Are we experiencing an earthquake? What is going on with Iggy’s body?
Smith: Oh geez…he might be getting intense again. Chaotic better hit this quickly.
Hood: Could be cocaine withdrawals. I hear those can be rough
~Chaotic reaches the top and leaps off with a perfectly symmetrical Shooting Star Press. As he’s rotating backward Iggy NIPS up to his feet!! Chaotic lands flat on his chest and stomach! Iggy beats his chest like an angry primate and yells out. Chaotic curls up, holding his abdomen in pain. Iggy starts to sprint around the ring, pumping his fists yelling “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”~
Smith: And he’s intense…Chaotic is in serious trouble
Hood: Do you think a guy like Chaotic might consider a name change after facing Iggy Hardy?
Smith: How so?
Hood: Well, considering how crazy Iggy can be…he might consider changing his name to Not As Chaotic As I Thought I Was?
Smith: That is way too convoluted…despite its accuracy
~Chaotic slowly gets to his feet. He staggers around. Iggy runs up to him and gets face to face with the rising star. Iggy’s eyes are wide and he YELLS into Chaotic’s face. Loose pieces of fabric belonging to Chaotic’s mask ripple in response to Iggy’s gigantic wave of breath. Blotches of saliva splat onto the mask and slowly cascade down the slick fabric. We’re not sure what Chaotic is thinking because his face is hidden. He just stands there, almost in shock. Iggy leans forward and head butts Chaotic!!! Chaotic falls to the mat…Iggy turns his back to Chaotic and performs a standing moonsault. He goes for the pin…Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Iggy ALMOST had it there…but, given his intensity…you have to think Chaotic isn’t going to last much longer.
Hood: It’s a good thing he had that mask on. No telling what kind of toxic shit is in Iggy’s spit
Smith: See? There are benefits to wrestling with masks on
Hood: Then again…it’s probably really stuffy under that mask. Chaotic, for all we know, could have fainted before Iggy head butted him due to heat exhaustion. Had that mask been removed, Iggy’s breath of air might have cooled him down considerably.
Smith: So we’re back to hating masks?
Hood: We never stopped
~Iggy nips up to his feet once again, with ease. He pulls Chaotic up and launches him through the air. Chaotic lands on the nearest top turnbuckle. Iggy’s back is to Chaotic as he’s yelling and screaming. Chaotic finds his balance and he leaps off with a Missile Dropkick into the back of Iggy’s head!! Iggy staggers into the ropes…he’s still intense, breathing heavily. His body shakes as he’s sort of charging up~
Smith: Chaotic needs to do something to subdue this man if he wants any chance of winning
Hood: I’d recommend removing the mask and putting it on Iggy’s head
Smith: He’s not going to do that
Hood: Yea, I know. Masked people are so protective over their fucking masks…I swear, they treat that shit better than most people treat their kids.
~Iggy turns around with saliva hanging from his chin. His eyes are wide and he yells at Chaotic, “I’M GOING TO FUCK BOTH YOUR PARENTS YOU STUPID FUCK!” Calmly, Chaotic thumbs Iggy in the eye! Iggy falters. Chaotic whips Iggy into the ropes…Chaotic puts his head down, ready to lift Iggy into the air. Iggy bounces off the ropes and sprints at Chaotic…in one seamless motion he grabs Chaotic’s head, leaps into the air while holding onto Chaotic’s body and drills him into the mat with The Purifier(Canadian Destroyer)!!!! The fans leap to their feet out of surprise and enthusiasm!! Iggy pins Chaotic as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…IGGY HARDY!!!!!
Smith: WOW!
Hood: That came out of nowhere…you have to…
Smith: What athleticism by Iggy Hardy! I’ve seen certain moves come out of nowhere like that before…but never something so high impact.
Hood: As I was saying before your Iggygasm interrupted me…you have to wonder if Chaotic weren’t wearing a fucking visually debilitating mask…you have to wonder if he would have seen that coming and reversed it
Smith: The mask had nothing to do with it…anybody in Chaotic’s position would have fallen prey to that counter.
Hood: Agree to disagree on the shittiness of masks
Smith: Always have, always will…great win for Iggy, though. Finally getting that monkey off his back
Hood: More like GORILLA…a fucking monkey wouldn’t slow this guy down
~Iggy gets his hand raised by Scruff. He pats Scruff on the back…Scruff falls to the mat due to Iggy’s INTENSITY. Iggy jump over the top rope and lands on his feet. He hurdles the barricade and starts to sprint through the crowd. While doing so, he snatches the MILF from earlier and tosses her over his shoulder. The crowd parts, allowing a sprinting Iggy access to maneuver. He reaches the top of the seating area and disappears. The woman’s kid looks around, lost. A friendly, middle aged man walks up and comforts the kid. We quickly cut away to the announce table~
Smith: Um, we might want to get security out there to check on that kid.
Hood: No kidding…I think I saw that creepy old man at a merch table earlier today…any idea on what he was buying?
Smith: Please don’t say alcohol or sleeping pills…or Vaseline. If you say Vaseline, I quit.
Hood: Gross. Where the fuck is YOUR mind? Nah man, I saw him buying MASKS
Smith: Okay, that’s enough. Kicking Chaotic while he’s down. Guy is talented…just ran into a very game Iggy Hardy.
Hood: Oh yea, he’s got a shot at being good around here…for sure.
Smith: Indeed…well folks, let’s head backstage!
~The camera snakes its way around backstage, passing people left and right. The operator is in search of someone, yet it comes from an odd perspective of a person. They keep traversing through the backstage hallways, until the room of one person comes into view. The door is open, where it reveals a newer face to everyone. Damian K', the new Oh Shit Contract Holder, sits in the locker room. Wearing a black shirt with the OBEY Giant on it, some black pants, and combat boots, he seems intrigued by the mechanisms of the show. He scribbles notes down on a notepad, while maintaining a blink-less stare on the television. Yet, his bright eyes narrow. This action is not due to him refining his focus or any frustration. No, it is due to the person standing in the doorway. He has detected them, sensing their overall presence. He stands up, stretching his knuckles. He walks towards the person, as if he was prepping himself for a fight. Which bodes well for him, as the person standing in the doorway incites a chorus of boos. The person is none other than the OCW Paradigm Champion, The Incredible One. The two stand face to face, an air of importance radiating off their stare down. It is so much so that the crowd begins to cheer for their showdown. Damian looks at the belt on his shoulder, before tilting his head~
Damian K': I assume you're not here to welcome me to the company.
~The Incredible One cocks an eyebrow and gives a shocked look from Damian's statement as he motions with his hands that he was wrong~
The Incredible One: Wrong! In fact, I came in here to congratulate you on your impressive victory at Like There's No Tomorrow! I mean, it didn't top MY victory - but hey, you made a big splash! It reminded me of my big splash I made back in 2014 when I first debuted in OCW... within two weeks I was a OCW regional champion. You had to go through former tag team champions, a former Paradigm Champion, hell, a former OCW Champion - for a newcomer to do is most impressive, like I said. I actually came by to give you this...
~From behind, TIO reveals a gift wrapped box in blue wrapping paper with a grey bow on it. He smirks slightly, before offering it to Damian. The crowd noise dies out, mostly out of confusion of what The Incredible One has done. Damian does not register any emotion on his face, not knowing exactly what to think~
Damian K': Huh. Thank you.
~Damian, distrusting as he may be, decides to humor the champion. He takes the box and unties the bow with an intent eye on it. TIO watches, biting his lip, as Damian focuses on getting the present open. He finally rips the wrapping paper off as the crowd boos and TIO begins to laugh, slapping his knee as Damian reveals it to be a box of cereal known as "Special K". Damian doesn't give any kind of hint whether he likes or dislikes the present as TIO's laugh begins to fade into frustration~
TIO: What's wrong? You don't like it? I was shopping, wait, no, I hired someone to go shopping for me and they brought me home this hideous, disgusting, piece of trash cereal to my place. Naturally, I fired the guy, but it made me think of you. A guy, who thinks he's special but deep down you're bland, gross and above all else... a freak who got lucky. You ain't nothing special, kid.
~Damian looks at the box for a moment, before taking the box and throwing it behind him without much fanfare. He didn't like Special K either, but somewhere he found the wordplay somewhat engaging. Albeit, The Incredible One didn't tickle him one bit. In fact, he managed to receive a pitying gaze from Damian as he laughs uproariously~
Damian K': A few words that anyone in my position have probably heard before.
~He narrows his eyes and looks off to the side~
Damian K': How thrilling.
~His eyes return to the Incredible One with a more serious expression taking over his face~
Damian K': You were in the neighborhood and brought me some cereal. So, you stepped out of your way to tell me something that I'm going to hear until I shed this whole "kid" thing. It's natural that you didn't come out here just for that. So, out with it.
~The way Damian spoke really bothers TIO, at first he looks at him deer in headlights but that expression turns to real frustration~
TIO: Fine, you don't beat around the bush. I got shit to do anyway, so I'll make this simple for you Damian. You, you hold the Oh Shit contract. You can do whatever you want with it. If I were you, I'd go after the Ascension Championship. If you wanna go after the tag titles with some other loser OR the Savage Championship, be my guest, but then you have the others members of the Aptitude to deal with, and knowing them, they won't like that. I'm here to warn you: do not even think about cashing in on me. I got plans, I got shit I'm going to do. I'm looking at the bigger picture. I don't need some OCW rookie bothering me, like some summer time mosquito. If you decide to not listen to my warning and go after MY Paradigm Championship... I will end your OCW career before it even begins.
~TIO stares into Damian's eyes intimidatingly, but Damian doesn't move a muscle, not buying TIO's games. Further angering TIO, he looks around until he sees a small table. In true TIO fashion, he grabs his arms and flips it over, sending the contents on top of it flying before leaving Damian's locker room. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Intense moment between a successful OCW veteran and a successful OCW newcomer.
Hood: TIO is just laying the law down. Damian K’ thinks he’s all badass because he won a battle royal. Fine, good job, kid. But TIO is the measuring stick around here and he’s giving K’ some advice…take it easy, don’t climb too fast, too soon.
Smith: I hope somebody eats that box of cereal. There are starving children in Africa
Hood: I didn’t know the former OCW Champion owned a cereal line
Smith: He doesn’t. That cereal was in production long before Special K signed up to compete in OCW.
Hood: Whoa…wait a minute…is Damian K’ Special K’s kid?
Smith: NO
Hood: Hey, relax…I was only asking.
Smith: The champions are tense…not only is that Oh Shit Contract active but the man holding it has all the talent in the world to claim any of the eligible belts.
Hood: Should be rad
Smith: Indeed!
~"Smart Went Crazy" by Atmosphere begins to play throughout the arena and Bob Grenier makes his way to the stage, hood up. This is not the excited, Amped up Bob Grenier you all have grown to know and love, this is sad, depressed loser Bob Grenier and he makes his way slowly down the aisle to a mild applause and some laughter. It's hard to take the former champion seriously these days. He grabs a microphone and slides into the ring. He raises the mic but does not say anything, He does this a 2nd time before pointing to the screen~
~Grenier stumbles to his feet. He sees Iggy flipping back over the top rope. He sees Nathan watching. Grenier runs forward to clothesline Nathan. Nathan senses Grenier coming and he drops to his knees. Grenier runs into Iggy! Both men go over the top rope and they land on the apron! They get to their feet and take a moment to gather themselves. Nathan sprints in crashes the ropes!! Iggy’s legs fly out but he maintains a grip. Grenier flies OFF the apron and THROUGH the second table!!! The crowd BOOS as fans look on, stunned. Nathan’s eyes grow wide as he can’t believe what he’s just done~
Smith: Nathan Dravers has just eliminated Bob Grenier!
~After the footage ends, Bob Grenier goes to speak but it is played again in slow motion. Bob flies off the apron through a table. Nathan Dravers looks stunned~
Smith: Nathan Dravers has just eliminated Bob Grenier!
~Bob watches, He doesn't look upset. He doesn't look pissed. He's been wearing the same sullen expression the entire time~
Bob: What you saw last week.. What everyone saw.. As I crashed through a table.. Was a kid who said that he would earn my respect, and did precisely that. So next week on this program, Nathan Dravers vs Bob Grenier.
~Grenier drops the mic and walks back up the aisle. He doesn't acknowledge the mild applause and chants of his name as he walks through the curtain~
Smith: Wow! Bob Grenier wants revenge and laid down the challenge
Hood: I didn’t know Bob was our new GM
Smith: He’s not
Hood: So why is he making matches?
Smith: It’s a challenge, Hood. A great challenge, at that. I have no doubt our esteemed on site GM will approve of the match.
Hood: If he even knows what’s going on. He’s too busy dealing with that Make a Wish stuff
Smith: He can do two things at once…
Hood: Hahaha
Smith: Yea, I know…I realized after I said it how stupid a statement that was. Regardless, that’s a match I’m sure we’ll see next week and, if Bob can win, then maybe he’ll regain his footing here in OCW.
Hood: What if Dravers wins?
Smith: Well then it means big things for him on the horizon.
Hood: Stay away from the Yak Piss, kid and you’ll be alright
Smith: And on that note, let’s head backstage
~The cameras trace across the hallway, catching glimpses of the workers before finally stopping on MJ Bell. She is currently having a hushed conversation with Treat Cassidy. They wrap up the conversation, though her face twisted in a small frown when she turns away. MJ takes a few steps forward, Treat disappears around a corner, then the OCW Champion doesn’t get much further down the hall because she stops short~
MJ Bell: So it begins… I was wondering how long it’d take you to come talk to me. I didn’t think it’d take this long though. You were so eager to diss me, figured you’d be the first to come get in my face…
~We pan out to see PerZag standing across from MJ. The crowd instantly boos, obviously not admiring PerZag after what he did to Alice Knight the week before~
PerZag: Honestly, MJ, I had someone else to worry about first. And with Alice out indefinitely, I am a happy man. Now, I can focus on that.”
~PerZag points towards the belt that is draped across MJ’s shoulder, as MJ quickly stares at the belt before looking back at PerZag who is giving a brief smirk~
PerZag: But, in saying that, I am not the man I was a few years ago. If I were, I probably would have attacked you already, and taken that championship away from you right now. That was Operation Zero and Power and Worth me. I am a different person now.
~MJ hesitates but nods her head to acknowledge what he said was true. She rests a hand over her belt, tapping fingers against it~
MJ Bell: I guess I should be grateful I didn't get that treatment. Honestly, I was expecting it to happen to me in the same stride it did Alice…
~She frowns at the mention then continues~
MJ Bell: However, I think I made it very clear that I'm not the same either. I'll take you on for a shot for this belt, one that wasn't ripped away from you when I had the belt stolen, but the outcome won't end in your favor. Honestly, it wouldn't end well for anyone who tried to threaten me for it. I just got this belt back. Hope you understand that I'm not ready to part with it yet.
~MJ marks her words with a determined stare, and proudly adjusts the OCW Championship belt on her shoulder. PerZag pauses, thinking to himself about what MJ had just said, finding the words to reply with~
PerZag: Alice got what she deserved, that is the gist of it. Anyone who has a positive relationship one way or another with The Aptitude, especially CJ O’Donnell, does not deserve anything within this company. And, well, she is officially out of it long-term. So, I guess that job is done.
~PerZag takes a step forward towards MJ, who seems to think about taking a step back, but stays grounded~
PerZag: That’s pretty much why you didn’t get the same treatment. Alice got what she deserved. You, on the other hand, you deserve to have a proper one-on-one battle with me. A match that was supposed to happen at Last Man Standing back in 2014. But, we are going to have it now, instead. But, there is one thing you should know though. We both dislike The Aptitude equally, but the ‘respect’ I have towards you, in that capacity, does not affect this one fact.
~PerZag points at the OCW Championship belt that is on MJ’s shoulder, the tip of his index finger touching the title. Her eyes narrow never leaving PerZag’s face though she stiffens visibly as if waiting for a fight~
PerZag: That championship is coming to the one person that deserves it the most. That championship will soon be around my waist. And, just like it should have been back at Last Man Standing in 2014, it will be you that I take it from. MJ, that title is bound for me, I am just happy that I will get to battle you for it instead of Alice.
~PerZag takes his finger off of the championship belt, still staring at MJ, before taking a quick glance at the championship, and walking past her and out of sight. The Champ rests her hand over the belt with a small smirk as the cameras cut back to the ring~
Smith: I can’t WAIT for that match…even though I still strongly dislike PerZag
Hood: Guy did what he had to do…he’s clearing his path toward the one goal that’s eluded him. That’s ALWAYS been PerZag, Smith…why is it just now bothering you?
Smith: Because…
Hood: Oh yea, that’s right, because he lashed out on your girl. Well, get the fuck over it. She’s all crippled up now and we’ll never see her again. It’s onward and upward…MJ Bell and PerZag for the OCW Title.
Smith: That will be a great match. And it sounds like we won’t have to wait long to see it
Hood: I’ve been told by SOURCERERS that it will be within the next two weeks
Smith: Sorcerers?
Hood: No, SOURCERERS…my anonymous friends who conjure up stories.
Smith: Well that sounds just terrific…we’d better end this line of dialogue before some oddball character named the Sourcerer is created.
Hood: I’ve already submitted the paperwork
Smith: Ah geez…well folks, it’s time for our next match. The undefeated Ascension Champion Max Shade
Hood: AND Dr. Orange
Smith: Yes, him as well...will go one on one against Rebel...a man many people think will be a champion in OCW sooner rather than later. Let's head down to ringside
Max Shade © (4-0) vs. Rebel (4-2)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is a non-title match scheduled for one fall!!
~ The lights around the arena turn to red as the opening strains of "Slow Me Down" by the Devin Townsend Band play out, the lights flicker red and white. The camera swoops down to the entrance to show the silhouette of a man, his back turned to the camera, with his left hand raised in a fist above his head, the lights all suddenly burst on as a huge explosion rocks the arena. Rebel rotates quickly, pumping his fist at his side as he does, he begins the walk down to the ring, reaching out periodically to shake hands with the fans. He jumps up onto the ring apron and turns quickly, his arms wrapped around the top rope, again he pumps his left fist in the air then hops over the top rope. He walks around the ring, his fist raised, then stops in the middle, a bank of red fireworks sweep across the side of the ring behind him.~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’7 and weighing in at 240lbs…Rebel!!!
~”Never Take Me Out” by Demigodz blasts throughout the OCW Arena. Dr. Orange emerges with the OCW Ascension Title over his shoulder. He pats the face of the belt and points at some fans. He yells out, “Looks great, doesn’t it? Beautiful title. Perfect.” Max Shade emerges right behind. He stares at the title over Dr. Orange’s shoulder. Dr. Orange gives him a playful jab in the shoulder and then heads down the ramp, waving Max to follow along. Max lets out a deep breath and follows. They reach ringside and Max heads up the steps. He enters through the ropes and stands inside the ring without any sort of issue. Dr. Orange claps before heading over to the announce table~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’5 and weighing 285lbs…he is the OCW Ascension Champion…the client of Dr. Orange…Max Shade!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Alright…I have to say I’ve looked forward to this match as much as any we’ve seen tonight.
Hood: Why? We all know Dr. Orange’s client is going to win
Dr. Orange: Win what? What contest is Max in that I’m unaware of? Tell me. Now.
Hood: This match
Dr. Orange: Oh. That was in question?
Hood: Not in my mind!
Smith: Guys, I think we’re forgetting that Rebel is one of the best wrestlers in OCW. He took The Incredible One to the limit a few weeks ago.
Dr. Orange: Max would have won that match. No doubt.
~Dr. Orange has set the Ascension Title in front of him. Most of the time, when people do this, the belt is facing outward, toward the ring. However with Dr. Orange in charge of things, the face of the belt is looking right at him. He stares into it. Rebel sees this and points it out to Max. Rebel has a good laugh. Max charges in and grabs Rebel by the throat. He forces the big man into the corner. Rebel’s eyes widen, surprised by the raw strength possessed by Max. He swings down and bends Max’s arm at the elbow, causing him to release. Rebel knees Max in the chest. Max staggers back. Rebel lunges forward with a big boot and connects!! Max falls to the mat wincing and shaking his head from impact~
Smith: Nice start by Rebel!
Hood: That is a beautiful championship, Dr. Orange.
Dr. Orange: It is now. I spent the entire week having it cleaned. I ate a slice of delicious Tangelo’s Authentic-Style Pizza off it earlier. Tasted great.
Smith: Wait, so Max doesn’t hold the title at all times?
Dr. Orange: He’s a wrestler. He’s training. What does he need the belt for?
Hood: You know what, that makes a lot of sense, Doc. It’s just a distraction.
~Rebel leaps into the air and drops an elbow across Shade’s chest. He gets back to his feet and stomps on Shade, keeping him down. He leans into the ropes, ricochets off and drops a leg across Max’s chest. He goes for a quick pin but Max shoves him off before Scruff can even hit the mat~
Smith: A little too early for that.
Dr. Orange: It’s always too early to pin Max. He can bench seven hundred pounds.
Smith: No he can’t!
Hood: Smith, if Dr. Orange says he can bench seven hundred pounds then you best believe it.
Smith: Most people can’t even SQUAT that much
Dr. Orange: Max’s arms are stronger than most people’s legs. Have you seen his arms? They are huge.
~Max struggles to his feet. Rebel gets to a vertical base much quicker. He stands back, waiting to pounce. Max finally reaches his feet and receives a running clothesline!! Max staggers into the ropes and tries to lean against the top but missed…instead he falls through the ropes and lands roughly on his shoulders and back of his neck. A few fans grimace at ringside. Rebel looks over the top rope as Max reaches behind him, holding the back of his neck~
Smith: Tough fall by Max. One might blame it on his inability to properly leverage those ropes.
Hood: Yea and that ‘one’ would be STUPID
Dr. Orange: Dumb. Those ropes are clearly defective. Bad ropes. Weak. Just like Smith’s theories.
Smith: My theories are not weak! You’re just angry because they point out the flaws in yours.
Dr. Orange: Just like this belt, I have no flaws. Look at it, Hood. Isn’t it beautiful?
Hood: What? The belt or your reflection?
Dr. Orange: You’re a wise man.
~Rebel steps through the ropes and hops to the floor. He grabs Shade by his giant strand of hair and pulls him to his feet. He turns Shade’s back to the ring and slams him into the apron!! Shade grimaces, arching his back. Rebel punches him in the face before twisting him around and slamming him, face first into the apron! Shade staggers back against the barricade. Rebel blasts him with a knife edged chop into the chest! He then tosses Shade back into the ring. Shade rolls near the ropes, coming to a stop on his back. Rebel stands on the apron, grabs the top rope and somersaults over the top rope with a leg drop across the throat of Shade! He remains seated with a loose cover. Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
Kick Out!!
Smith: A lot of offense by Rebel but still just a one count.
Dr. Orange: That was a fast count. Should have been a zero count. Zero.
Hood: Sorry about our refs, Doc. They can be a little amateurish at times.
Smith: Kind of like a certain wrestler on our roster?
Dr. Orange: Don’t worry. I’ve had words with management about Rebel. He needs more training. Better representation.
~Rebel remains undaunted. He reaches his feet and pulls the giant mass that is Max Shade to his feet. He drills him in the side of the head with some forearm strikes. Max stumbles into the nearest corner. Rebel lifts a couple of legs into Max’s gut. He goes to whip Max across the ring but Max is able to reverse it and lock Rebel around the waist, from behind. Rebel tries to break free but is no match for Max’s strength. Max goes for a German Suplex…the crowd gasps with fright. He gets Rebel half up but stumbles backward! Rebel lands on top of Max’s chest and grabs his leg, pulling back…Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Wow, that was close
Hood: Son of a skank that would have been awful
Dr. Orange: I did not know that about Rebel’s mother. Makes sense. Bad genetics.
Hood: Explains his attitude, right?
Dr. Orange: Deplorable. Nasty, nasty man.
Smith: Why are we passing off conjecture as fact?
Dr. Orange: It is fact. I just checked.
Hood: See? It’s confirmed - Rebel’s mom was a skank.
~Rebel gets to his feet and backs up, ready to pound. Shade is slow to his, coughing a bit from the impact his chest suffered. He staggers and turns, facing Rebel. Rebel charges in but Max catches him!! He hugs Rebel and stumbles into the corner, crushing Rebel with CORNER HUG SMASH!!! Max falls to the mat…Rebel staggers forward, landing on his face in the middle of the ring. The crowd begins to chant “Corner Hug Smash!!”~
Smith: Corner Hug Smash…outta nowhere?
Hood: Pretty much…that move is fucking devastating
Dr. Orange: Best move in the history of moves. Max won the Local Indy Fed Championship with it.
Smith: Oh yea, who did he beat?
Dr. Orange: The High Flyer. Quick guy. Fast. Athletic. But no match for Max.
Hood: I could totally see Corner Hug Smash killing that guy
~Max sits up and shakes off the haziness. He crawls for Rebel, looking to pin him. Rebel responds with a Triangle!! Max is caught, deep. He tries to wiggle free but Rebel cranks down. Scruff comes into the picture, checking on Max. The crowd jumps to their feet sensing this could be it. Max’s movements begin to slow~
Smith: Uh oh, Max Shade is in trouble!
Hood: Damnit
Dr. Orange: High Impact Back Splash! That’s what we need. It will solve everything.
Smith: Could damage his throat
Dr. Orange: No. Max does throat exercise every morning. His throat is made of steel. Unbreakable.
Smith: Right
~Shade seems to be fading. Scruff grabs his arm. Shade yanks it away! He pulls up and has Rebel nearly standing on his head. He throws a few stiff kicks into the ribs of Rebel. Rebel responds by grimacing and cranking down harder and harder. Shade is beginning to choke. It won’t be long until he’s beyond a point of return. He musters as much strength as he can and lifts Rebel into the air…Rebel’s body is curled up like a koala or whatever clinging to a tree. He looks around wildly…Shade stumbles…he loses his balance and staggers toward the ropes…Rebel goes over the top rope and holds onto Shade, dragging him over the top rope as well…the two giant men tumble downward and land roughly on the outside!! The crowd jumps to their feet…people at ringside lean forward trying to see who got the worst of the fall~
Smith: What a fall!!
Hood: I hope Shade is okay…Dr Orange…how good is Shade at surviving falls?
Dr. Orange: Incredibly adept at surviving a fall. He jumps off the top of ten story buildings twice a week. Lands directly on his feet. He did bruise a toe once. But that was just once. Once, not twice.
Smith: We got it
Hood: Max Shade is a future legend, Smith
~Rebel is seated against the barricade, holding the back of his head. Shade is lying alongside the ring with the apron cloth draped over half his body. He’s coughing and holding his throat. Rebel reaches up and clutches the top of the barricade, using it to stand up and steady. He walks over to Shade and places his foot into Shade’s throat. He leans forward, applying tremendous pressure. Shade tries to fight off, growing increasingly desperate as a person without air is known to do. Out of nowhere, he sweeps around with his leg and kicks Rebel’s base out from underneath him! Rebel falls, hard to the outside, clutching the back of his left knee in pain~
Smith: Wow! Impressive athleticism by Max Shade…that kick looked to be of the highest caliber!
Dr. Orange: A tragedy when a man has to resort to cheap, boring moves like that to survive a match. Sad.
Hood: it wasn’t that bad of a move, doc.
Dr. Orange: Nobody wants to see kicks, Hood. If they did, they’d watch soccer. Do you see people going to soccer games in this country? No.
Hood: Hmm, good point
~Shade’s massive hand reaches up and grabs the apron…he sits up and then stands. Rebel gets to his feet as well, limping around. Rebel’s back is to Shade. Shade drills him in the back of his wounded knee with a flush kick. Rebel falls flat on his back. Shade kicks him in the head with another flush strike, immobilizing Rebel and possibly knocking him out. Shade grabs Rebel by his rebelliously blonde hair and throws him into the ring~
Smith: This is a side of Shade we’ve seen glimpses of in the past…and it’s been highly effective.
Hood: *yawn* did you say something? All of these kicks are putting me to sleep over here
Dr. Orange: See? Boring stuff. Like punters. How many people watch football games to watch the punter?
Smith: Actually I won my Fantasy league last year on the ‘foot’ of my punter.
Hood: You are such a fag.
Dr. Orange: All fantasy leagues with punters are fake. Fake leagues.
~Shade crawls in under the rope and covers Rebel. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Rebel isn’t done yet!
Hood: Considering how rebellious he is, I’m sure he’s been struck in the head by worse. Might need some pepper spray or tear gas to keep the guy down.
Smith: He’s a Rebel not a Rioter
Dr. Orange: Or maybe some real moves. None of these wimpy kicks.
~Max struggles to his feet. Rebel sits up and tries to get to his feet. Max kicks him in the chest. Rebel leans back, kneeling. Max kicks him in the chest again and again and again. Rebel’s thick base is absorbing these kicks but they are doing considerable damage. He sways side to side. Max kicks him again~
Smith: Shade in total control. Once he altered his…hey, where are you going?
Dr. Orange: I can only stomach so much of this. Thousands of people have changed the channel. It will be millions if I don’t take control.
Hood: Don’t forget your belt, Doc!
Dr. Orange: Never.
~Dr. Orange tosses the Ascension Championship over his shoulder and heads for the mat. He slaps at the mat and yells out “HIGH IMPACT BACK SPLASH!” Max pretends he can’t hear him. He steps back, getting ready to deliver a roundhouse kick to Rebel’s head. Dr. Orange yells out again, in the midst of Shade performing the move. He slips and misses…the momentum sends him staggering. Rebel capitalizes and rolls Shade up! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!
Smith: Whoa!
Hood: Holy shit…that was the closest we’ve seen Max Shade come to losing…fuck.
Smith: Will you listen to me now? Dr. Orange is holding him back!
Hood: No he’s not! Those kicks were clearly ineffective. Had he been back splashing Rebel, the match would already be over.
Smith: Back splashing…great, just love the terminology we are making up as we go.
~Shade is on all fours. Rebel jumps on his back and locks in a Sleeper Hold. Shade coughs and tries to fight Rebel off. Dr. Orange slaps his hands on the apron out of frustration. Shade gets to one knee and remains still. His giant shoulders heave up and down as he’s laboring for breath~
Smith: Max Shade has suffered extensive damage to his throat during this match…a sleeper hold could be the final nail in the coffin.
Hood: Is Robert Morbidus coming down here?
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Nail in the coffin…vampire…you know
Smith: No, there will be no Robert Morbidus sightings during this match. How about you focus on the men expending great energy inside that ring
Hood: I don’t know, Scruff seems pretty laid back to me
~”Move your ass, Max!” Dr Orange yells, seeing his client fading out. Max starts to charge up. He’s got one more shot at breaking free from the strangle Rebel has locked on. He powers to his feet. Rebel looks around, anxiously. Max leans forward, pulling Rebel from the mat. Rebel kicks his legs around. He pulls back and straightens Max up and lands on his feet. In doing so, he tweaks his tender left knee! Rebel lifts it up and instinctively reaches down. This gives Max the opportunity he needed to break free. He pulls Rebel’s lone arm away and stumbles forward~
Smith: Those kicks that Dr. Orange is so against seem to be paying off
Hood: That or Rebel stepped on an uneven part of the mat, injuring his leg. We need to check the mat.
Smith: The mat isn’t uneven
Hood: It isn’t NOW…maybe Rebel’s stumble pushed the uneven part back into place.
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood
~Rebel shakes his leg out and puts weight on it. It appears sturdy enough. He rushes up behind Max and leaps into the air for a Fameasser. Max stands up, catching Rebel and hoisting him up onto his shoulders. Rebel waves his arms around, trying to topple Max. Max stumbles, not sure what to do. Rebel dives forward and rolls Max up for a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Another close call…Rebel is all around this win…he just can’t keep Max Shade down
Hood: All because of the presence Dr. Orange brings to ringside
Smith: Or, you know, the conditioning and physical stature of Max Shade
Hood: Nah
~Max and Rebel get to their feet simultaneously. Rebel sneaks up behind Max and pulls him back, looking for Rebel Yell (Scorpion Death Drop). Max, however, powers up to a standing position with Rebel over his shoulder. Again Rebel wiggles around, trying to slip or maneuver away. His wiggling places him over Max’s shoulders. The crowd stands up in anticipation as Max locks his arm down over the back of Rebel’s head~
Smith: Uh oh!
Hood: Rebel got caught…I think this is over
Smith: It could be…
~Shade flips Rebel around and drops him with The Terminator!!! Rebel hits hard and flops over onto his back. Max wraps up both legs for the pin as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…The OCW Ascension Champion AND Dr. Orange’s client…MAX SHADE!!!!!
Smith: He did it! The ‘indy darling’ defends his undefeated streak!
Hood: What’s with the air quotes, douche?
Smith: You know what they imply
Hood: I don’t know what you’re so unsure of…Dr. Orange said this guy was phenomenal on the indy circuit and all he’s done since joining is win so…why don’t you believe the man?
Smith: I can’t argue his success inside an OCW ring. It’s just…well…you know.
Hood: No, I don’t know what you’re talking about. But I do know that Max Shade is everything Dr. Orange promised he’d be.
~Dr. Orange enters into the ring. He kicks Rebel aside…Rebel rolls, instinctively, out of the ring, under the bottom rope. Dr. Orange hoists the Ascension Title in the air and shows it off to the crowd. Max reaches his feet and rubs his irritated throat~
Smith: Max took a beating tonight…he took a beating last week…the man has got to be getting tired.
Hood: He’s determined…Dr. Orange is pushing him toward success
Smith: I’m not sure that’s the source of his determination
Hood: Are you kidding? Who wouldn’t want to fight and win for Dr. Orange…just look at the majesty of that man!
~Dr. Orange continues to pose. Max reaches for the belt but Dr. Orange pulls away. Max looks frustrated, almost angry. Dr. Orange gives him a pat on the shoulder and motions that they should leave. As always, Shade relents and follows Dr. Orange out of the ring. They head up the ramp~
Smith: He really should let Max carry that title
Hood: Why? It’s in good hands…Dr. Orange isn’t going to lose it. Max just needs to do what he does best…win matches.
Smith: I hate that view point…I really do.
Hood: Yea? Well tough shit
Smith: So mature…anyway, folks let’s head backstage as we’ve got a main event to prepare for!
~We cut backstage to find Mack walking around. He grabs an OCW employee~
Mack: Where the fuck are they?! Where is Meyhu?! The Aptitude? Where are they?!
~Before the employee can say anything, Treat Cassidy appears and pulls Mack away. Treat keeps a hand on him as they walk side by side~
Treat: What the hell are you doing, Mack? Who released you from the hospital?
Mack: Fuck you.
Treat: You shouldn’t be walking around like this. You’re not in good condition.
Mack: Where the fuck are they?
Treat: Are you… Are you drunk?
Mack: And high. Go fuck yourself.
~Mack shoves Treat away, immediately chugging from the bottle of Jameson and disappearing down the hallway~
~Treat dials a number in his cell and puts the phone to his ear~
Treat: Yeah, it’s Treat… I think I’m going to need both of you here. ASA-fucking-P.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: And to think…that’s one of Treat’s star clients
Hood: Dr Orange wouldn’t be having ANY of that shit…hey maybe that’s who Treat was calling…maybe he was dialing Dr. Orange for some advice
Smith: I doubt it…seems to me he was probably dialing members of the Clientele…that or an AA group
Hood: I love AA groups…I sit in on the meeting and acquire a bunch of material for party jokes
Smith: That’s terrible
Hood: Not nearly as terrible as the shit those sober drunks own up to…you should really come with me one week, it’s insane
Smith: I think I’ll pass. However, I will have some more in ring action!
Hood: That was such a gay transition
Smith: Leave me alone. Folks...we've got a few minutes until our main event starts so let's head backstage for an UPDATE on our Make a Wish Contest.
~We cut backstage. Eastern European is sifting through tons and tons of letters. Each of them is addressed to the Make a Wish contest. They are colorful and oddly shaped…like birthday cards. He lets them fall through his fingers and stares at his head of security, Barry Man is Low~
Eastern European: So many words. Must be hundreds of millions. How I read all this?
~Barry Man is Low shrugs. EE nods, as though Barry just gave him some highly informative advice. He nods his head to the side…Barry Man is Low picks up a giant, black trash bag and opens the mouth. He pins the side of it to the desk and pulls the other side, creating a huge hole. EE places his arm at the edge of the pile and in one swooping motion shoves all the letters into the trash bag~
Eastern European: I no read these now. We wait first. Capital Locks hopefully find us someone and then that save me tons of time.
~We fade out of EE’s office and into the OCW press room. Tons of children are seated, Indian style on the thin, economy carpet. Their parents line the walls, arms folded in front or behind. Boxes upon boxes of Tangelo's pizza sit in a corner. It becomes apparent what happened to the catering of Dr. Orange. Unfortunately, it doesn't appear as though much of the pizza has been eaten. Cap Slock and Who’Re are in front of the gathering. Behind them is the logo for the OCW Make a Wish contest. Who’Re steps forward and begins to speak. Her blouse is unbuttoned pretty far down her chest, exposing a good deal of cleavage. The young boys in attendance are mesmerized~
Who’Re: Hey little guys and girls! Welcome to the Make a Wish contest. Due to our loyalty toward the Key West community we’re giving each of you the first opportunity to win this inaugural competition. How does that sound?
Young Boy: I love it
Young Boy 2: I love YOU
Who’Re: Aww, you guys are so sweet!
~An annoyed, extremely FLAT chested mother in the back clears her throat. Who’Re looks up and the mother messes around with the buttons on her blouse as a hint. Who’Re looks down and smiles, buttoning one button…which isn’t enough, but better. The flat chested mother rolls her eyes. Cap Slock steps forward~
Cap Slock: HEY KIDS
~They all lean back, shocked by his loud voice~
Cap Slock: THIS IS A COMPETITION TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. SO I WANT EACH AND EVERYONE ONE OF YOU TO COME UP HERE RIGHT NOW AND TELL US YOUR STORY.
~The room is silent. The kids are frightened~
Cap Slock: WELL, WHAT’S THE MATTER? COME ON UP HERE, KIDS. I WON’T BITE.
~A few whimpers emerge. The kids are trembling~
Cap Slock: WHAT’S THE PROBLEM? COME ON, LET’S GO.
~The kids begin to cry. Cap Slock looks at Who’Re~
Cap Slock: IS IT HER BLOUSE? WHAT’S THE PROBLEM?!
~Parents rush in and grab their child. They all evacuate the room as the kids are hysterical. Cap Slock stands with his arms extended as Who’Re covers up her cleavage. The room is suddenly empty~
Cap Slock: KIDS THESE DAYS. NO DISCIPLINE, NO BACKBONE.
Who’Re: I guess that’s it for the Key West candidates. Looks like our GM is going to read those letters…which, you know what that means.
Cap Slock: I’M AFRAID I DON’T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. COULD YOU BE SO KIND AS TO ENLIGHTEN ME.
Who’Re: We are going to be reading those letters.
Cap Slock: OH OKAY.
~We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: Well that didn’t go as planned
Hood: Fucking millennials man…they are pussies
Smith: Are those kids millennials or are they some new generation?
Hood: Shit, that’s a good question…and a frightening proposition. The idea that a softer generation than the millennials are out there breathing our air…eating our friend chicken…
Smith: Well I don’t know about all of that…but I do know that this Make A Wish Contest was a great idea that could go very wrong given who is in charge.
Hood: Look, The Eastern European will read all of those letters and find the best candidate. All will be good, Smith.
Smith: Somehow I doubt that…but it will be interesting to see how it unfolds, I guess…in the coming weeks. Anyway…it's main event time, are you ready?
Hood: I was born ready
Smith: Well, alright then
The Aptitude © (1-0) vs. “The Emerald” Drew Stevenson & “The Demon” Lance Savage (0-0)
Belvedere: It is now time for our Main Event of the evening! This is a tag team match scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championship!
~The arena lights suddenly just shut off consuming the arena into complete darkness. The sudden engulfing of a massive bright spotlight shines down onto the entry area, the fans try looking through it but it is far too bright to see through it with the naked eye. Suddenly, the public address sound system comes on playing "The Man" by Aloe Blacc as the stage is still engulfed in the massive light. After a few seconds, the spotlight begins fading away and the arena lights return to life as there stands Drew Stevenson with his hands on his hips just looking out nodding as these fans boo him heavily, he just begins walking down the aisle sporting his usual attire which consists of dark green wrestling pants, dark green knee pads, boots and his hands taped up in dark green tape as well. He begins walking down the aisle until he gets down to the ring, he quickly rolls into the ring from under the bottom rope immediately getting back to his feet just pacing the ring simply awaiting for the bell to ring thus getting this match underway~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Kansas City, Missouri…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 250lbs…”The Emerald” Drew Stevenson!
~”Underground” by Evermore plays throughout the arena. Lance Savage emerges from behind the curtain. It’s not his standard entrance as he’s a little gimpy from his match one week ago. He’s also got a bandage under his eye patch. He reaches the ringside area, steps up, onto the apron and enters into the ring~
Belvedere: And his tag team partner, from Parts Unknown, standing 6’6 and weighing in at 250lbs…”The Demon” Lance Savage!!!
Smith: That guy has a lot of nerve coming out here sporting that bandage.
Hood: What? For concealing a wound he suffered last week?
Smith: Exactly! He CHEATED Robert Morbidus out of that Massacre Rules Match
Hood: Ohhh, I see what you’re saying. You’re misinformed…he was playing catch with some local youths and the sun got into his good eye which resulted in a baseball being thrown his way nailing him in his bad eye.
Smith: Yea, I don’t believe that at all.
Hood: He’s very philanthropic…I mean, you know, for a Demon and all.
Smith: Whatever…he cheated Morbidus and I hope our staff, while reviewing those tapes SEES that administers some justice.
Hood: Way to emphasize the word ‘see’. You just won’t bypass an opportunity to knock Mr. Savage.
~”Run this Town “ by Jay Z ft. Rihanna & Kayne West starts up. ‘The Aptitude’ flashes on the tron. The fans start to boo. A very healthy looking Matt Meyhu emerges with a battered CJ O’Donnell. They are toting their Tag Team Championships over their shoulders. CJ, despite his condition, still looks as confident as ever. The duo make their way to the ring talking trash to fans. They head up the steps, enter into the ring and look over at Drew and Lance~
Belvedere: And their opponents…coming in at a total combined weight of 418lbs…they are the OCW Tag Team Champions…”The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell and “The Marvel” Matt Meyhu….The Aptitude!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring. Drew Stevenson starts the match out for his team while Meyhu remains in the ring for The Aptitude. Scruff takes the tag belts and hands them through the ropes to Belvedere. CJ, with cuts on his face and bruises on his body, stands on the apron. Meyhu looks across the ring as Stevenson and laughs. He slaps his hands together three times~
Smith: Meyhu reminding Stevenson of the match they had nearly a month ago.
Hood: He beat him three times in one night?
Smith: NO…he’s reenacting a count of three….a pinfall.
~Stevenson rolls his eyes and plays off the mockery. He acts as though he can’t remember the match they had. He starts talking trash, approaching Meyhu. Drew reaches back and swipes at Meyhu. Meyhu catches his arm, preventing Drew from slapping him. Meyhu snares Drew’s head and pulls him down in a side headlock. Drew grimaces and tries to get free but Meyhu is too strong. Meyhu smiles and plays around with Drew, yanking his head around in an over the top fashion~
Smith: A lot of confidence being shown by Matt Meyhu…bordering on arrogance, if you ask me.
Hood: It’s just like when big brother faces little brother…he knows he can beat Drew, he’s done it before. What’s there to be worried about?
Smith: I just think a little respect would be nice…but that might be asking too much from The Aptitude.
Hood: They are the test, Smith. Until someone passes that test then they don’t have any reason to treat their opponents as equals.
~Drew throws a forearm into the kidney of Meyhu. Meyhu winces a bit. Drew shoves him off…Meyhu runs into the ropes, he bounces off and runs Drew over with a shoulder! Drew hits the mat and shakes his head, a bit stunned. Meyhu then starts to run…stop and kicks Drew in the face after faking him out~
Smith: A very cavalier attitude…he better hope it doesn’t come back to bite him. Drew Stevenson is a very accomplished wrestler.
Hood: Yes but he’s no Marvel…he’s the Gemstone
Smith: Emerald!
Hood: The chef? Where?
Smith: Never mind
~Meyhu yanks Drew to his feet and bullies him into a corner. He slams an elbow into Drew’s head. Then another followed by another. Drew’s knees grow weak as he hangs onto the top rope by his arms. Meyhu grabs a handful of hair and drags Drew to the center of the ring. He lifts a knee into Drew’s face. Drew falls onto his back, breathing heavily and blinking rapidly. He’s on the dangerous side of consciousness~
Smith: Well this isn’t going Drew’s way whatsoever…Meyhu seems a bit more focused and, well, regardless of his prior attitude is in total control.
Hood: Meyhu is just better, Smith.
Smith: Given CJ’s physical wear and tear it would benefit Aptitude greatly, I think, if they could win this match without CJ having to step into the ring.
Hood: You dogging my boy CJ?
Smith: Not at all…I’m just saying he’s obviously still recovering from the match he had at Like There’s No Tomorrow.
~Meyhu drops a knee into Drew’s face. Drew goes still. Meyhu makes a sloppy cover. Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
Kick Out!
Smith: Not much of a cover there by The Marvel
Hood: Maybe he thought that by barely covering him Drew wouldn’t know he was being pinned and, therefore, wouldn’t kick out.
Smith: That’s preposterous
~Meyhu grabs Drew by the hair and sits him up. Meyhu gets to his feet and runs into the ropes, he bounces off and goes for a soccer style kick into Drew’s head. Drew falls to the side, consciously, and Meyhu missed. Drew rolls Meyhu up. But, instead of pinning The Marvel he crawls into his corner and tags Lance Savage~
Smith: Smart move by Stevenson…he knew he wasn’t going to score the three count, so he tagged in the fresh Lance Savage.
Hood: Is Savage ever REALLY fresh?
Smith: I’d say he is…considering he hasn’t wrestled in a week.
Hood: Yea, but to me fresh means nothing is holding you back and, well, this guy is always missing an eye
Smith: Okay, fine, as fresh as he can be?
Hood: So like the sushi they make at grocery stores?
Smith: Yuck
~Savage enters into the ring with great aplomb. Meyhu remains confident, returning to his feet. Savage heads straight for The Marvel…the two lock up. Savage tries for a headlock but Meyhu maneuvers out of it and clubs Savage in the back with a forearm. Savage staggers into the ropes. Meyhu lifts a knee into his back. He falls through the ropes and lands on the apron. Meyhu yanks Savage to his feet and knees him in the gut. He lifts him over the ropes and drops him into the ring with a suplex!! Meyhu pops back to his feet and poses, arrogantly. CJ extends his hand, having seen enough from the sidelines~
Smith: I’m not sure tagging CJ in right now would be the best move for The Aptitude…Meyhu is doing just fine.
Hood: It’s ALWAYS a good idea to tag The Distinguished One into any match
Smith: But he’s clearly still hampered by the injuries he suffered one week ago
Hood: He may be all gimpy but he’s got both eyes…that’s a huge advantage over The Lemon, Lance Savage
Smith: It’s the DEMON
~Meyhu walks over and gives CJ his wish. He tags in The Distinguished. CJ hops into the ring over the top rope showing no signs of injury. He rushes over to The Demon, who is on all fours. He kicks the Demon in the ribs, sending the big man to his side. CJ throws a few more well placed kicks, forcing the Demon to roll over to the ropes. CJ drags him back into the center of the ring and grabs hold of his arm, locking in an armbar. The Demon’s one eye winces~
Smith: So much for the wear and tear…CJ looks on point
Hood: Hey, you know that Make A Wish foundation contest thing or whatever?
Smith: Yes…
Hood: Do you think Lance Savage is eligible?
Smith: No.
Hood: Seems like ocular profiling to me
~The Demon powers through the armbar, reaching his feet. CJ does his best to torque and turn the arm, but Savage is determined. He bullies CJ into the ropes and shoots him off. CJ ricochets and sprints toward Savage…he LEAPS into the air with Irish Knowledge, but Savage ducks! CJ hits the canvas hard and slides under the bottom rope, landing roughly on the outside. Savage, breathing heavily, heads over and tags in Drew. Drew drops from the apron and runs around the ring to attack CJ~
Smith: And now the momentum has shifted.
Hood: And, let me guess, you’re going to blame it all on CJ
Smith: Look, I’m just saying he’s tired…not 100%. Probably frustrated as well…hence going for the win that early.
Hood: So you’re confusing aggression with frustration? CJ is a beast…a winner…don’t worry, you’ll see.
~Drew picks CJ up…CJ shoves him off and throws a kick, Drew catches it and drills CJ with a clothesline!! CJ hits hard. Drew pulls him back to his feet and hurls him into the ring, under the bottom rope. Drew slides in. CJ gets to his hands and knees, facing Drew….Drew lunges forward and hooks CJ in a front face lock, cutting off his air supply~
Smith: The mat technician is doing what he does best
Hood: I talked with Drew and he stated the reason he chose not to wrestle at Like There’s No Tomorrow was the brutality.
Smith: Yea, well he missed a great show and opportunity
Hood: Not really, I’m told he saw Kong and said it was tremendous
~Drew gets to his feet with CJ still locked in. He lifts CJ up for a vertical suplex but releases him while in the air. CJ falls straight to the mat, landing on his back! Drew applies a couple of stiff kicks into the chest of CJ. He yanks O’Donnell up and drags him into his team’s corner…he tags in Savage. Savage heads for the middle of the ring…Drew whips CJ out of the corner and he runs straight into a boot from Savage!! CJ hits the mat hard~
Smith: Nice teamwork by this…well, somewhat mishmashed unit
Hood: Which one is Mish and which one is Mash?
Smith: Hmm, well since Savage is the bigger of the two…wait a minute, why am I answering that ludicrous query?
Hood: Because that’s who you are, Smith.
~Savage yanks CJ to his feet as Drew returns to the apron, watching the match. Savage hoists CJ up, over his head for a press slam! He then drops CJ, catches him across his shoulders and slams him into the mat with a Samoan Drop!! CJ grabs his midsection in pain. Savage quickly reaches his feet and plants his foot into CJ’s throat, choking him. Scruff asks Savage to remove it but The Demon shows very little respect toward Scruff’s authority~
Smith: Great Samoan Drop by Lance Savage
Hood: I didn’t know The Lemon was Samoan…he always looked, I don’t know…Swedish? To me.
Smith: I think both are wrong…he’s from Parts Unknown
Hood: Hmm, where exactly is Samoa?
Smith: I…you know…I don’t know
Hood: A-ha so he IS Samoan!
~Savage finally relents. CJ rolls for the ropes, trying to escape the ring. Savage stomps on his hand, keeping him pinned to the mat. CJ tries to pull his hand away with his legs hanging out of the ring, but can’t. Savage grabs CJ by the arm and yanks him back into the ring. He pulls CJ to his feet and whips him into the ropes. CJ bounces off and Savage throws a lariat…CJ ducks! CJ hits the ropes again, Savage turns around and catches CJ in midair as he was attempting a cross body! Savage tosses CJ over his head with a Fallaway Slam!! Again CJ hits hard, landing near Drew Stevenson’s feet. Savage smiles and says a few choice words at Meyhu. Meyhu starts to enter into the ring, but Scruff heads over…while he does, Drew stomps on CJ~
Smith: You know…for a make shift team these guys have some cohesion.
Hood: Must be the whole three eyed dynamic. Four eyes are probably too many.
Smith: I doubt that
Hood: You ever seen basketball players when they have to play in glasses or those goofy ass goggles? Fucks them up. Four eyes, man…gotta be wary of the four eyes.
~Meyhu shakes his head, finding Scruff to be useless. He steps back onto the apron. Savage reaches his feet as Drew returns to an innocuous stance. Scruff, of course, sees no hint of anything nefarious. Savage grabs CJ by his leg and drags him like a corpse into the center of the ring. He heads for the nearest corner and hops onto the middle rope. He measures CJ up and leaps off with an elbow…CJ moves! Savage drives his elbow into the mat and grabs it in pain. CJ rolls onto his stomach and looks over at Meyhu who extends his hand…not over eager or anything douche like…just calmly, in case CJ makes it that far~
Smith: If CJ can make the tag that will shift the momentum back toward The Aptitude
Hood: This is when a guy like CJ really wishes he were taller
Smith: Why?
Hood: Less space to crawl
~Savage works his elbow back and forth. CJ is nearing Meyhu. Drew yells out to Savage…Savage spots CJ and crawls over, grabbing CJ by the legs. CJ tries to kick Savage off. Savage won’t let go…he’s got enough of a grip to keep CJ from making the tag. Savage, sitting on his ass, starts to drag CJ away by backsliding toward Drew. CJ keeps trying to kick Savage but his head is too far away. Savage reaches back with his long arms and tags Drew in. Drew sprints at CJ and knees him in the face!! CJ flattens out and goes still. Savage lets go and reaches his feet, heading outside the ring, standing on the apron, catching a breather~
Smith: Close call…CJ almost tagged his partner, Matt Meyhu into the match but the strength of Lance Savage was too much.
Hood: He sure knew how to maneuver and position by sliding backwards. I think the one eye is finally paying dividends.
Smith: Oh yea?
Hood: Kind of like how a blind person has heightened awareness. That’s the deal with Savage…he’s on another level with his other senses thanks to being a fucking ocular cripple.
~Drew kicks CJ onto his stomach. He then applies a camel clutch, sitting in the middle of CJ’s back. He pulls on CJ’s chin, bending him awkwardly. CJ winces and reaches for Drew’s hands, trying to pull them apart…but Drew has it locked in tight. He looks up at Scruff and yells, “Ask him!” Scruff asks CJ something about his chest tattoo. Drew rolls his eyes, “NOT THAT…ask him if he’s going to quit!” Scruff nods and is like, “Ah, okay” and asks CJ if he wants to quit. CJ refuses~
Smith: Nice to see Scruff still has it
Hood: So Scruff is considering getting some ink…seems like a waste to me
Smith: And why is that?
Hood: Bums don’t bathe…you’d never be able to see the tattoo under all that built up dirt and grime
~Drew grows bored of the camel clutch. He elbows CJ in the head a few times and then stands. He turns around, grabs CJ’s legs and locks in a Boston Crab!! It’s afflicting a similar area. Drew smiles and leans back, really bending CJ’s torso. Meyhu shakes his head, growing frustrated. CJ refuses to give up, showing great grit and determination~
Smith: Drew Stevenson proving that his technical prowess can be successful at the highest of levels.
Hood: So what’s next…a back breaker?
Smith: I think he’s settled on the Boston Crab.
Hood: Boston Crab…sounds like a northeastern venereal disease OR a seafood dish
Smith: Ugh…I don’t particularly like how interchangeable you make those two things sound
Hood: Maybe it’s BOTH
Smith: Bleh
~Meyhu has finally had enough. He steps through the ropes and kicks Drew right in the face. Drew falls over, releasing the hold. He grabs his face in pain. Scruff tilts his head to the side, surprised. He then looks at Meyhu and starts to DQ him. Drew gets to his feet, still holding his face…he pleads with Scruff not to DQ Meyhu and O’Donnell. Scruff looks to Savage…Savage agrees with Drew~
Smith: That was BLATANT cheating…however, Stevenson and Savage both know that if Scruff DQ’s Meyhu and CJ they won’t win the tag titles.
Hood: I think Drew was spitting some mean rhymes at Meyhu about his mom
Smith: Yea, I don’t think so
Hood: He was all “Your mom is so fat that she went by MeyHUGE”
Smith: He said nothing of the sort
~Scruff shrugs and allows the match to continue. CJ quickly rolls Drew up!! Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: I’m not sure how smart a move that way, honestly
Hood: Why? What good is a win over the tag champs if you don’t get the tag titles?
Smith: True…but now you’ve given The Aptitude another shot
Hood: So a Catch 22?
Smith: I guess…great book, by the way
Hood: Too long, didn’t read…that’s my philosophy for any book longer than a Dr Seuss novel.
Smith: I don’t think anything written by the good doctor could be considered a novel
~Drew kicks out. He crawls over and locks CJ in a front face lock before CJ can get to Meyhu. Drew tightens the hold. CJ’s back is facing Savage as his arms extend toward Meyhu. However, he’s way too far away to make the tag. Drew throws some punches into CJ’s ribs, subduing him. He crawls forward, pushing CJ into his corner, near Savage. Drew reaches out and tags Savage. Savage steps in and lifts CJ’s legs up, positioning them over his shoulder. Savage and Drew head toward the middle of the ring. Drew turns around and hooks CJ’s face for a stunner. He then drops to his knees and stuns CJ! Savage maintains a grip on CJ as Drew slides out of the way…he drills CJ into the mat with a powerslam! Drew heads out of the ring as Savage pins O’Donnell~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: That was close…CJ has got to get to Meyhu if they want to win this…he’s taken too much punishment.
Hood: I’m not sure how that move didn’t pin CJ, to be honest
Smith: He’s tough, you have to give him that…I don’t know how smart it was competing here tonight…but he had no choice
Hood: Yea, not like TIO was gonna get in there…not after the shit he went through against Chad Vargas…it’s a shame they couldn’t clone Meyhu
Smith: I’m not sure the wrestling world could handle two Matt Meyhus
~Savage gets to his feet and does the ‘throat slash’ gesture. He pulls CJ up and whips him into the ropes. CJ bounces off and Savage lifts a big boot into the air…CJ ducks it. Savage turns around as CJ ricochets off the other set of ropes…CJ leaps into the air and NAILS Savage in his patched eye with Irish Knowledge!!! Savage flies backwards and through the ropes, landing outside. CJ is in the center of the ring, lying on his back, breathing heavily. He stares at the lights as the crowd doesn’t really know what to do~
Smith: Wow!! That move is so dangerous because CJ can hit it at any time from almost anywhere
Hood: What’s with this crowd? Why aren’t they going WILD?
Smith: Because The Aptitude is a group filled with JERKS
Hood: Oh so they’d rather cheer for a guy who likes boring mat wrestling and a man with one eye?
Smith: Honestly…I think they are torn. They aren’t sure who to cheer for…or, even worse, who to hate
~Savage isn’t moving. He’s out. CJ sits to his side and looks over at Meyhu. Drew looks frantic. He hops off the apron and rushes over to Savage, trying to revive him. Meyhu snaps his fingers and yells at CJ to get moving. CJ leans forward and rolls onto his stomach. He slowly begins to crawl. Outside we see Savage sitting up. Blood is pouring out from under his eye patch. Stevenson finds this gross and steps back, checking his arms and hands. They are clean~
Smith: I guess touching his partner’s blood is where Drew draws the line
Hood: You never know what’s in another man’s blood
Smith: I doubt OCW would allow someone with a blood disease to wrestle…especially in matches like the one Savage competed in last week.
Hood: Haha, I don’t.
~Drew heads back to his team’s corner and stands there. Savage reaches up and pulls himself to a standing portion using the apron. CJ has crawled halfway toward Meyhu. Savage wipes some of the blood away from his face…it leaves a red streak across his cheek, to his ear. His good eye is fluttering. CJ gets to his knees. Savage rolls in under the bottom rope. CJ lunges forward and he makes the tag! The Marvel steps into the ring and looks down at Savage~
Smith: And just what Drew and Lance didn’t want
Hood: Drew and Lance…sounds like the beginning of a boy band
Smith: You think?
Hood: Well at least until the record company gets a look at Savage
~Meyhu yanks Savage to his feet and slaps him across the face. Savage falls into a corner. Blood continues to run down his face, from under the eye patch. Meyhu throws a well placed elbow into Savage’s head. Savage falls to the mat, landing on his ass. Meyhu lifts a casual knee into Savage’s face. Savage slouches forward and to the side, returning to the mat. Drew enters into the ring and hits Meyhu from behind. Matt turns around, unfazed~
Smith: He’s fresh and he’s, well, The Marvel
Hood: I wonder how Savage’s eye got cut so badly…does CJ tape blades to his knees?
Smith: Uh, no…I think it has something to do with that cut Lance Savage suffered during the Massacre Rules match that he successfully hid from OCW.
Hood: Nah, CJ wears blades on his knees. That’s it.
~Scruff moves to DQ Stevenson but Meyhu, returning the favor, tells him to let it play out. Drew throws a punch at Meyhu. Meyhu blocks it and drills Drew with a punch of his own. Drew staggers into the ropes…he bounces off and Meyhu tosses him over his head with a belly to belly suplex!! Drew hits hard and arches his back. Meyhu quickly returns to his feet and goes back after Drew~
Smith: And we’re getting a rematch of the intense encounter we saw a few weeks ago
Hood: Intense Encounter? Sheesh, that sounds awful
Smith: You know what I meant
Hood: Try googling that and see what comes up
~Meyhu grabs Drew by his thick hair and yanks him to his feet. He peppers Drew’s face with several slaps, treating him with utmost disrespect. Meyhu stops and collapses to his knees. Savage is standing behind him. He apparently kicked Drew from behind, between the legs. Drew begins elbowing Meyhu in the head repeatedly. Meyhu falls over~
Smith: What the…
Hood: Lance Savage lives…
Smith: They could win this…CJ is outside the ring, resting while Meyhu has been stopped by the double team
Hood: Oh man I don’t think I could stomach Lance Savage on our beautiful champions page. Maybe we could just go with two pictures of Drew Stevenson
~Drew picks Meyhu up and talks trash. He delivers a vicious forearm uppercut. Meyhu turns around, facing Savage. Savage picks Meyhu up, over his shoulder. He positions him for Vicious Death~
Smith: This is Savage’s finisher!
Hood: Yuck
~Savage suddenly stumbles forward, into Drew!! Drew falls through the ropes. CJ is behind Savage, holding his knee~
Smith: CJ just hit Savage in the back with Irish Knowledge…that’s three times he’s used that move in this match
Hood: Dude is doing what he has to in an effort to hold onto those belts
Smith: Indeed…that’s what champions do
~Meyhu rotates down to the mat, landing on his feet. He hooks Savage and drops him fluidly to the mat with Ego Trip!!! He rolls Savage over and goes for the pin. Drew tries climbing back in but is met with a kick from CJ, sending him back outside. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings as the fans finally pick someone to boo. They boo the winners; The Aptitude~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…AND STILL OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…THE APTITUDE!!!!!
Smith: They did it! Meyhu and O’Donnell withstood the tremendous effort from Lance Savage and Drew Stevenson!
Hood: Fucking close one there…had Lance Savage been born with two eyes, it might have been different.
Smith: I don’t think he was born with just one eye.
Hood: So you’re saying he lost his eye in a savage accident?
Smith: I couldn’t tell you. All I know is The Aptitude may have suffered a minor setback at Like There’s No Tomorrow when CJ came up JUST shy of dethroning Mack…but, tonight…they look as strong as ever.
Hood: No shit, CJ is a fucking hoss. And Meyhu…well, that guy can just pick his spot. Those two will never lose those tag titles, ever.
Smith: I’m sure one day we will see new champs
Hood: Nope, never…not ever…never ever
Smith: You sound like a toddler.
~“Vagabond” by the Greenskeepers begins playing. Mack O’Connor walks out on stage. He’s still in his hospital gown. He has the Savage Title still draped over his shoulder, the bottle of Jameson in one hand, and a microphone in his other~
Mack: If we don’t got business, feel free to leave.
~O’Donnell and Meyhu both find themselves standing in the ring, staring up at O’Connor on the stage. Savage and Stevenson are seen heading up the side of the ramp, leaving the ringside area. They both have a stare down with O’Connor before disappearing to the back~
Mack: Now, to those I got business with… I came back to this company because your boy Ian B-----… That’s right, IAN B-----… Decided to pull a bitch move and kidnap Treat Cassidy. I came back and corrected that. That should have been that. But you motherfuckers kept pushing. You want to put pretty boy O’Donnell in the ring with me?! In the Cube?! Fine! I handled it. I took care of business. Then Mr. Meyhu, Miss Marvel, wants to stick his nose in it? O’Donnell and I fight to the end, and does Mr. Meyhu think he’s a fuckin’ tough guy?! Do you guys know when to fuckin’ quit?!
~Mack chugs what is left of the bottle of Jameson to the last drop. He begins walking aggressively down the ramp towards the ring~
Mack: That shit ends now. I’m blocking your way out, and you two ain’t leaving until my body is cold on the floor.
~Mack chucks the microphone as he reaches the ring. He slides into the ring without hesitation. O’Donnell charges Mack. Mack ducks O’Donnell’s first swing, turns, and smashes the bottle over O’Donnell’s head. O’Donnell drops to the ground, and Meyhu charges in. Mack turns, grabbing the Savage belt off his shoulder, and smashes the belt across Meyhu’s face. Meyhu drops to the ground and rolls away, holding his face. Mack stumbles to the mat upon impact, showing that his limbs aren’t 100% under control~
Smith: Mack O’Connor says to heck with the odds! He’s taking the tag team champions head on!
Hood: To a man with a belly full of Jameson those odds are nothing. In his drunken mind, he’s the favorite.
~Mack pops up and charges back to O’Donnell, stomping him into the corner of the ring. Meyhu slowly crawls to his feet. He sees Mack stomping out his partner, and immediately moves to stop him. Mack turns to face Meyhu, and the two begin to go fisticuffs. They fight toe to toe for a moment, but Meyhu gains the upper hand and forces Mack into the corner~
Smith: Here we go!! The match we’ve all been hoping we’d see since Like There’s No Tomorrow…Meyhu and O’Connor going toe to toe!
Hood: Toe to toe? Why not just say they are brawling?
Smith: Okay, fine…Meyhu and O’Connor are brawling!
Hood: Much better
~Mack looks like he might regain the upper hand, but O’Donnell recovers and joins Meyhu and the two start to overwhelm him. That turns into them really giving him the business. TIO comes down laughing, joining them in the beat down. TIO kicks the broken shards of glass out of the ring, ensuring no member of The Aptitude gets cut. Meyhu yanks O’Connor up and hooks his arms. CJ throws left and right jabs into O’Connor’s face. TIO stands back, continuing to laugh as though he were watching the latest MARX BROTHERS FILM. CJ steps back and motions for TIO to take a shot. TIO, with his Paradigm Title around his waist…slowly loosens it. He removes the belt and holds it up like a weapon. He rears back, readying to nail O’Connor~
Smith: They are going to decimate our Savage Champion!
Hood: Going to? I’d say it’s pretty much a foregone conclusion. But, hey, that’s what he gets for interrupting the greatest victory in the history of the OCW Tag division.
Smith: I wouldn’t go that far…hey, wait a minute!
Hood: Aww shit…
~The crowd goes wild as OCW Champion MJ Bell and Chad Vargas rush down the ramp. Cassidy is following, slowly, behind them. They hit the ring. TIO refrains from hitting O’Connor. Meyhu lets O’Connor go as he and O’Donnell brace for impact. O’Connor falls to the mat but, being the drunken bastard that he is, manages to reach up and nail TIO in the groin!! TIO falls to his knees. MJ and Chad slide into the ring and pop to their feet. MJ and CJ go at it…Vargas and Meyhu go at it. The crowd is going nuts as O’Connor tries to get to his feet~
Smith: Here we go!!!
Hood: C’mon Aptitude! Put those bitches DOWN
Smith: Let’s go Clientele!
~Meyhu starts to overwhelm Vargas. O’Connor elbows Meyhu in the back of the head. Meyhu stumbles forward and turns around…O’Connor throws his body at Meyhu with a drunken cross body…both men flip over the top rope and land violently outside. CJ drills MJ with an educated right hand. MJ wobbles. Vargas rushes in and knees CJ in the ribs. CJ falls into the ropes. Vargas measures him up and clotheslines CJ over the top rope!! CJ lands on his feet and staggers up against the ramp…Vargas takes a few steps back and dives through the ropes with a Suicide Dive!! He nails CJ, taking him down!! The fans are on their feet jumping up and down, chanting a mishmash of names. MJ reaches her feet and rubs her jaw. TIO rises to his feet. The crowd quiets down as TIO is staring at MJ Bell. She turns her head, sensing him. They lock eyes. MJ raises her fists as TIO raises his title~
Smith: So much history between these two!
Hood: Come on, TIO…smack her with the belt! Bust her open…have some of that blood run into her white hair…might give it that orange hue we all miss so much
Smith: That sounds terrible!
~O’Connor and Vargas slide into the ring and stand at MJ’s side. TIO lowers the belt and laughs. He holds his hands up saying, “Okay, okay.” He moves for the ropes and steps through them. He hops to the floor. CJ and Meyhu reach their feet. Treat hurries away before The Aptitude notices he’s near them. He creates a safe distance. CJ and Meyhu receive their tag belts and toss them over their shoulders. TIO tosses his Paradigm Championship over his shoulder. They point at The Clientele and then at their titles. MJ, Mack and Chad motion for them to come back. The Aptitude laugh at the suggestion~
Smith: Oh come on…if you guys are so tough, get back in there!
Hood: They aren’t stupid, Smith. You’ve got to pick your spot. Mack is shit faced so he won’t feel anything. Plus, CJ and Meyhu just went through a war with Savage and Stevenson.
Smith: I thought these guys were so tough that they could overcome anything…huh? What about that?
Hood: What’s the point? What’s at stake? These men fight for gold, for money. There’s no gold in this. There’s no money. So fuck the effort.
Smith: Ugh, disgusting
~The stare down continues as the gold covered members of The Aptitude continue to back up the ramp. The Clientele shake their heads and mock their adversaries. It becomes clear this isn’t going any further tonight~
Smith: Tensions are running high between these two factions. It’s only a matter of time before we get a match of some kind.
Hood: A career ending match and, spoiler alert, it won’t be the end of the line for The Aptitude
Smith: Yea, I don’t think it’ll be anything near that drastic…but it will be one of the bigger matches in OCW history
Hood: No doubt…fuck, Gwen Stefani is so hot
Smith: Well, on the heels of that non sequitur I guess it’s time to call it a night
Hood: What? That totally fit
Smith: Folks it’s been a great night that has shaped the pathway of OCW as we head toward our next Super event…whenever that may be.
Hood: June…according to my Sourcerers
Smith: Okay, our next big event is slated for June and we’re just now getting a glimpse of how things will shape up from now until then. We will be back next week with another action packed edition of Massacre!
Hood: Wheel keeps on turning!
Smith: So, until then…I’m Smith and alongside me is Hood…see you next week!
~We get one final shot of The Aptitude standing atop the ramp holding their three titles high in the air. MJ, Chad, and Mack all watch from the ring, motioning for them to come back down. We fade to black~