LIVE! Monday, January 23rd 2017
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Highlights from last Monday are shown. Big Swole’s impressive victory is aired as basically one highlight because there isn’t much else to show. Irvin Hill’s interaction with Coe followed by his win is shown. The unveiling of the brackets by Welsh and the Eastern European is shown. It is all culminated with the Main Event and Vortex pinning his partner Debris to cement his standing in the first round of the tournament. The final show of Vortex standing victorious with Debris on the mat, hanging his head in shame transitions into a shot of the brackets~
Before settling on Smith and Hood, we cut backstage where Vortex and Debris are having an intimate discussion. On camera, of course~
Vortex: Look man, I just did what I had to do to win. It wasn’t personal, it was just semi-personal.
Debris: Semi-personal? What does that mean?
~Vortex laughs and pats Debris on the shoulder, giving it a light, quick massage~
Vortex: I’m just kidding, you know it was all business. Besides, I should have had that spot to begin with, I’m the guy in the team with all the singles experience.
Debris: You do have a lot more of that than I do.
Vortex: Exactly plus, man, and I hate to tell you this, but I guess now is better than never, but you really need to adopt more of a vicious attitude. You’re too damn nice to be in this profession. I mean, chasing tornadoes, sure, you can be nice. But pro wrestling? You have to be cut throat.
~Debris nods, understanding the meaning behind his partner’s words. A hand slaps Debris in the back, he stumbles into Vortex. Vortex keeps him from falling and Debris turns around. Tornado Alley is facing Deluxxx. Depth, the assailant, looks at his hand and feigns a look of concern~
John E Depth: Sorry about that, guess I don’t know my own strength.
Shootah: That you don’t, B.
~Shootah and Depth laugh and slap hands~
John E Depth: You see, unlike you two, we know how to get along as a team.
Shootah: Been doin’ it for years.
John E Depth: After I’m done winning the OCW Title, taking those tag belts will be like slipping into…
~A noise interrupts his gross analogy. Near a catering table stands Jamoke. He is trying to get some food but, in doing so, bumped into Julio Lugo. Lugo, already dressed for competition, takes umbrage with the act and headbutts Jamoke in the head. Jamoke is busted open and he staggers back. Lugo marches forward as his handler, Javier Nunes, tries to dissuade him. He kicks Jamoke in the back of the knee. Jamoke falls to both knees and Lugo slams him, face first into the wall. Jamoke’s face goes through the wall leaving the rest of his body kneeling forward, lifeless. Nunes persuades Lugo to walk off before he kills the man. Lugo yells angrily in Spanish. Vortex laughs and gives Depth a strong pat on the chest~
Vortex: Yea, good luck against that guy.
~Vortex and Debris head off. Depth stares at Jamoke’s near dead torso and starts to scratch his mustache~
John E Depth: You know, I’ve been thinking…
Shootah: What’s that, B?
~Depth looks around, conspicuously. He then grabs his gut and falls to his knees. He moans in great pain~
John E Depth: That shrimp, man. That shrimp cocktail, I think it was bad.
Shootah: Oh damn, really? Cause, ya know, I had the same shit and I feel okay. Hope I ain’t got a shit storm brewin…
John E Depth: Did I say shrimp cocktail? I meant sushi, yea man, I think I got hold of some bad sushi.
Shootah: But I didn’t see you have no sushi, B.
John E Depth: I ate it while you were in the bathroom.
~Shootah wears a look of confusion~
John E Depth: Would you quit questioning me? I’m in a lot of pain here, alright?
Shootah: Alright, alright.
~Shootah helps his ailing partner to his feet. Depth looks at him, with pain in his eyes~
John E Depth: I think you’re gonna have to sub in for me tonight, bro. I just can’t see myself competing while in this kinda pain.
Shootah: Oh damn, really?
~Shootah looks at Jamoke’s body and seems concerned~
John E Depth: Hey! I’m your partner, alright? Just do this for your partner and quit acting like a pussy, alright?
Shootah: A….a….alright, B. Alright, I got this.
~Shootah helps Depth out of sight as medics finally appear to help Jamoke. We cut to the announce table~
Smith: I’m not sure who’s more of a charlatan…Vortex or Depth.
Hood: Charlotte who? Where is this perfect ten and can I have her phone number?
Smith: I didn’t say Charlotte Ten…I said CHARLATAN! It means fraud.
Hood: What are you talking about? John E Depth is deathly ill. We’ll be fortunate if he isn’t rushed to the ER before the night is out! Bad sushi is no joke.
Smith: Be that as it may, I highly doubt he’s suffering from a case of food poisoning. I think it’s more a case of fright.
Hood: Well, yea, the prospects of spilling your guys and experiencing bad sushi a second time is pretty harrowing, I’ll give you that.
Smith: I’m talking about Julio Lugo. He’s scared of facing the former OCW TV Champion.
Hood: What?! Speak English, Smith. What are you talking about?
Smith: Ugh, never mind. It does appear that, in week two, our tag division is entirely dysfunctional.
Hood: Feels like home, doesn’t it? I mean, yea there aren’t blood, piss, and beer stains everywhere but, still, the dysfunction and bad sushi…feels like home.
Smith: Sure.
Hood: Hey, look!
Smith: What?
Hood: Nothing, just wanted to make you look.
Smith: I guess it’s true, maturity doesn’t come with age.
Hood: You calling me old?
Smith: Please excuse my colleague, everyone and welcome to the second edition of Massacre in OCW 2017!! Last week we saw the beginning of a new era with GM Marcus Welsh and The Eastern European announcing a tournament for the OCW Title.
Hood: Yes and we also saw my new favorite wrestler, Vortex defeat his tag team partner!
Smith: So nice to see you remember something from last week. Of course, it involved treachery but I’ll take what I can get. My colleague is correct. The tournament began last week as Vortex defeated his tag team partner, Debris to claim his spot in the tournament. Tonight, two more first round matches will take place as we continue the march towards crowning the flag bearer of OCW 2017.
Hood: Only two matches? Man, I’m digging this new OCW.
Smith: There are three
Hood: Son of a bitch, now you made me look. Turnabout is fair play!
Smith: If you’d read the itinerary like a normal on air employee then you wouldn’t have been surprised.
Hood: Meh, I’m not really into reading. Now if somebody could draw it for me, that’d be helpful.
Smith: There are three matches tonight so, let’s get right to it.
Hood: Hey! It’s that guy, he’s back!
Smith: Yes, Mope is back.
~Mope is standing in the ring looking mopey. His head is down, he’s still somewhat injured from his match a week ago. He leans in the corner and shakes his head, wondering what has become of his life~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from that place over there. He stands like a human and weighs more than a dog. He is Mope!!
Hood: I take umbrage with that announcement. He does not stand like a human. More like a banana.
Smith: That’s because he’s moping around, Hood.
~”Rock Superstar” by Cypress Hill hits the arena. The fans stand and look to the tron. It flashes “cheer”. So, they cheer. Reid makes his way to the ring in MMA shorts. His feet are taped and he has gloves over his fists. He steps into the ring and looks at the giant Buffet visage staring down at the ring. He steps into his corner and turns his attention to Mope~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’9 and weighing in at 315lbs…Reid!!!
~The bell rings and Reid shuffles toward the center with his feet up. Mope looks confused and dances around the ropes, keeping his distance, trying to figure Reid out~
Smith: I’m not sure Mope has much MMA training. He looks uncomfortable with Reid’s strategy.
Hood: I’m not sure Mope has any wrestling training, to be honest.
Smith: You might have a point there. But, back to Reid’s story. Once a talented in-ring performer, he switched to MMA a few years ago in an effort to minimize the effects of age.
Hood: Does that mean MMA guys are pussies?
Smith: No, I think it means, given his frame, he’d rather work a mat style with holds and punches than running the ropes and all that other stuff.
Hood: All that other stuff, eh? You’re starting to sound like me!
Smith: Lay off
~The crowd is still cheering loudly. “Cheer” goes away and they quiet down. Reid finally stalks Mope into a corner. He throws a punch. Mope goes to his knees and tries for Reid’s left leg. Reid hooks Mope around the waist, lifts him up, turns around and drills him in the middle of the ring with a power bomb. Mope tries to sit up, winces, and falls onto his back~
Hood: That MMA training really paid off…you see tons of Power bombs inside the Octagon.
Smith: He’s still a pro wrestler, Hood.
Hood: Old habits, right?
Smith: Indeed.
~Reid grabs Mope by the hair. Some of it falls out. Reid loses his grip and stares at the fistful of hair. Mope crawls into a corner and reaches for his head. He seems sad, mopey, even. Reid throws the hair to the outside. A cleaning crew rushes from out of nowhere and sweeps it up. Reid charges in with a knee. He drills Mope in the side of the face. Mope’s body goes limp, hung up in the ropes like a thief tied up in barbed wire~
Smith: Guy might need some Bosley, or Rogaine.
Hood: You seem to know an awful lot about hair thinning prevention.
Smith: I’m not twenty-five anymore, Hood.
Hood: Ahh, twenty-five, halfway to forty…some great years.
Smith: Yea, right…back to the match.
~Reid goes to grab Mope by the hair, but thinks better of it. He yanks Mope’s right arm and drags his lifeless body into the center of the ring. Reid stomps on his head, for good measure. He stands Mope up, who is wobbling, about to topple over. Reid drills him in the forehead with an elbow. Mope falls back into the ropes, ricochets off and Reid scoops him up over his shoulders, backs into a corner and sprints into the middle of the ring. He drills Mope into the mat with a Running Powerslam. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings and Reid gets his hand raised as the winner~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…REID!!!!!
Smith: And impressive win by Reid. He looks ready to stake his claim in the OCW Title Tournament.
Hood: I’m still waiting for one of those MMA moves he’s been working on.
Smith: He might be saving them for a more threatening opponent.
Hood: You talking shit about Mope?
Smith: Indirectly.
Hood: Sneaky mother fucker
~Something strange begins to take place. Men in plain, black uniforms with emotionless expressions rush to the ring. They grab Mope and pull him out of the ring, under the bottom rope. They hoist him up and haul him out of the arena, into the back. Reid, on top of the stage, looks on with confusion before resuming his hike to the locker room~
Smith: What the heck was that?
Hood: I don’t know, but those guys weren’t fucking around.
Smith: No, it seemed like they were removing Mope from existence. I shudder to think where they were taking him.
Hood: Maybe to shave his head, ya know, do him that one favor.
Smith: Yea….maybe
~Smith and Hood both look up at the giant Jimmy Buffet head shot. His eyes are boring down on them. They share an uncomfortable silence before Smith shakes it off and plows ahead~
Smith: Anyway, it’s been a great night thus far and we’re just getting started! The OCW Title tournament is set to take place in a few moments. But first…let’s head to the back!
~Eastern European is on the phone with someone. He seems very excited. But, then again, he’s always excited so it could just be a call from some solicitor trying to get him to purchase earthquake insurance. AKB and Who’Re enter. Eastern European smiles at them, in doing so, his eyes shut. They open when the smile goes away~
Eastern European: That is great news to be saying! Yes! He is here, tonight? Yes! I will be very happy to make him an acquaintance! Okay, bye bye!
Who’Re: Excuse me, sir, but I was wondering when we might be put to work?
Eastern European: Hooray! Nice to be seeing you, Hooray. How have you been today?
Who’Re: Fine, aside from just sitting around. Are we going to be used?
~AKB jumps in and whispers~
AKB: If he’s going to pay us to just sit around, why get upset? There’s no need to ruin a good thing.
Who’Re: Because, unlike you I want to work.
AKB: You are a hard worker, I do know that.
~AKB gives Who’Re a cheesy wink and smile~
Who’Re: Ugh, I should have never agreed to go out for drinks…biggest mistake of my life.
Eastern European: Excuse me? What is this we are talking about?
Who’Re: NOTHING. I was just wondering about the ‘he is here’ comment you made as we walked in. Who is here? What’s the scoop?
Eastern European: The scoop tonight is GREAT night! Go, have fun, have more drinks! I come later, okay?
~The Eastern European nods at some security members, they rush AKB and Who’Re out of his office and into the hallway. The door is slammed shut~
AKB: You’re not really having drinks with that guy, are you? Because I know what drinks lead to…
Who’Re: Shut up and go hit on someone else. I’m going to hang around here for a while.
AKB: Gross.
Who’Re: Not like that, perv. Something big is going down tonight…somebody big is showing up and I want to be the first to break the story.
AKB: You stress too much. That’s the difference between the two of us. I’ll live a long, hearty old age and you’ll die young.
Who’Re: There is no US.
AKB: Keep telling yourself that, Hooray.
~AKB chuckles and walks off in search of a drink and no work~
Who’Re: Yea, well it beats being called whore.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Some big news on the horizon!
Hood: No shit, somebody called Whore by a different name. Now, explain this to me…if a girl’s name is whore why wouldn’t you call her whore? I mean I call girls whore all the time and they get all angry. But this one, she’s NAMED whore. Seems like something that should be taken advantage of.
Smith: It’s Who-Ray, Hood. That’s how it’s pronounced. For the love, we’ve only been over this like fifteen times.
Hood: I know something I’d like to get over!
Smith: Looks like AKB already beat ya to it.
Hood: True, greedy mother fucker…he’ll fuck anybody.
Smith: Indeed. Well folks, it’s time for the OCW Title Tournament to begin…our first match is next!
First Round
Shootah (0-0) vs. Julio Lugo (0-0)
~”Bad Touch” by The Bloodhound Gang begins to play. The fans look at the tron. It flashes ‘cheer’ so they cheer. Shootah sheepishly steps from behind the curtain wearing sweat pants and a generic OCW t-shirt. Depth jumps out from behind him and dances, wiggling his hips and looking like the guy competing, rather than Shootah. Shootah follows him to the ring. Depth stands at the apron as Shootah hesitates. He grabs Shootah by the back of the neck and rolls him in under the bottom rope~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall and is a first round match in the OCW Title Tournament!! Introducing first, from Hollywood, California…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 180lbs…Shootah!!!
~Shootah gets to his feet and throws a right hand in the air. “Cheer” vanishes and the crowd silences. “Rock Superstar” by Cypress Hill blasts throughout the OCW Arena. “Boo” hits the tron. The fans boo vociferously. Javier Nunes leads his physically peaked athlete to the ring. Lugo hops on the apron and climbs through the ropes. Nunes remains on the outside. He stares at Depth. Depth dips his shades a bit, to make eye contact. Nunes points at him and yells some obscenities in spanish~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Chihuahua, Mexico…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 205lbs…he is a former OCW Television Champion…Julio Lugo!!!
Smith: Javier Nunes has his eyes on John E Depth…no shenanigans are going to take place.
Hood: Oh please, like some manager is going to stop John E Depth from interfering.
Smith: I’m told he’s a master at…
Hood: Thumb war?
Smith: I was going to say boxing. Rumor is when he was younger he was a golden glove boxer.
Hood: Yea, I think he’s lying. He was probably thumb war champion of the barrio or whatever they call that shit.
Smith: Shh, the bell is about to ring
~The bell sounds. Shootah remains in his corner, eyeing Lugo. Lugo’s black hair shields most of his face but, it’s obvious, he’s staring a hole right through Shootah. He makes his way toward Shootah. Shootah begins to panic. Depth yells at him from the outside to stay calm. Lugo grabs Shootah by the hair. Shootah tries to fight him off by Lugo is too strong. Depth shakes his head. Lugo knees Shootah in the gut. Shootah doubles over and coughs. Lugo whips Shootah into the ropes, Lugo goes for a lariat, Shootah ducks and jumps through the ropes like he’s going for a tope. He slams head first into the black barricade with his back folding up severely. Depth rushes over, to check on him~
Hood: What the fuck was that?
Smith: I think he was trying to escape the wrath of Julio Lugo
Hood: For fucks sakes…who approved this guy? He doesn’t even look like a wrestler. Shit, I think I could take him.
Smith: Want me to set the match up?
Hood: Nah, I’m good.
~Depth helps Shootah to his feet. He checks on Shootah who is surprisingly limber. Everything seems to be in solid shape, so they turn to the ring. As they do, Lugo goes flying through the air with a somersault plancha, landing on both Depth and Shootah!! They crash into the black barricade with tremendous force. Nunes rushes over and helps Lugo to his feet and back inside the ring~
Smith: Tremendous athleticism displayed by the former OCW Television Champion!
Hood: I missed it. I was busy watching the Tron to find out who I’m supposed to cheer in this one.
Smith: Watch it
~Lugo drops to his knees and hangs his arms over the middle rope watching Shootah and Depth. Depth is up first as he helps Shootah to his feet. He tells Shootah to get back into the ring, Shootah pleads with Depth. He just wants to go backstage. Depth pokes Shootah in the eye and hurls him in under the bottom rope. Nunes is caught laughing at the charade. Depth walks over and elbows Nunes in the head, knocking him out. Lugo missed the elbow while pulling Shootah to his feet~
Smith: Strange match.
Hood: I’ve seen stranger
Smith: Indeed, I guess by OCW standards this is fairly tame.
Hood: Yep, but I wish that Lugey guy would get it over with.
Smith: It’s Lugo.
Hood: Who? Where?
~Lugo whips Shootah into a corner, Shootah hits hard. The ref checks on Shootah, concerned over his lack of, well, any kind of offense whatsoever. Lugo backs into the opposing corner, getting ready to charge. Depth positions behind the post, from the floor. Lugo starts to run. Depth grabs his left leg and Lugo falls to the mat, face planting. Depth hustles away from the post and walks around with his hands tied behind his back. The ref spots Lugo and casts a suspicious eye on Depth~
Smith: As sorry as I felt for Shootah that was no reason for such a heinous act!
Hood: Heinous? Dude, Lugo’s shoe had come untied and Depth was trying to tie it for him!
Smith: Yea, right.
Hood: I’m serious but that Lugo guy is such a fucking demonic spaz that he just took off and tripped over his shoe lace!
Smith: Whatever!
~Shootah spots Lugo, face down on the mat, moving slowly. He looks around, confused. Depth hops on the apron and yells at Shootah to attack. Shootah stumbles toward Lugo and stomps on the back of his head a few times. They have a solid effect. He picks Lugo up to his feet and drags him into a corner. He slams Lugo’s face into the top turnbuckle a few times. He twirls Lugo around and gives him a short, stiff elbow into the chin. Lugo falls onto his ass, seated with the back of his head against the middle turnbuckle. Shootah drills him in the face with a knee. He backs away and looks around, nodding his head, beginning to feel some confidence in his craft~
Smith: I think Shootah is, for the first time in his life, beginning to feel like a professional wrestler.
Hood: He’d better slow down, ya gotta walk before you can run. I’d say, right now, he’s more like an eighth grade chick slap fighting in the school yard.
Smith: That’s pretty demeaning.
Hood: For whom? Women or Shootah?
Smith: Good question
~Shootah climbs to the middle rope. He begins punching Lugo in the head. The crowd counts along as the Tron displays an ascension of numbers corresponding to Shootah’s punches. He reaches six. Lugo blocks the seventh. He hooks his arms around Shootah’s waist and goes for a reverse atomic drop. Depth grabs his feet again. Lugo struggles to free himself. Shootah’s body is blocking Scruff’s view. Javier Nunes gets to his feet and shakes off the cobwebs. He sees Depth interfering and rushes over, shoving Depth away. Lugo is free and, instead of a reverse atomic drop, he drills Shootah in the middle of the ring with a Spinebuster! On the outside, Depth throws a punch at Nunes. Nunes ducks and Depth’s fist smacks into the steel post. He grabs it in pain. Nunes capitalizes and grabs Depth by the back of the head and rams him, face first into the post. Depth falls to the ground, unconscious~
Smith: There seems to be more going on outside the ring than inside!
Hood: I don’t know about these Deluxxx guys…I mean, seriously, the guy inside the ring has no idea what he’s doing and the guy outside the ring just got laid out by a manager.
Smith: Not a good first impression?
Hood: I’m just saying, if this is a precursor to how they do things then I’m not watching any of their films.
Smith: Probably a wise decision
Hood: Then again, who am I kidding…I’ll definitely check them out.
Smith: Gross
~Shootah staggers to his feet. Lugo, stalking behind Shootah, charges in and slams him back to the mat with a Slingblade! He wastes no time in pulling Shootah back to his feet. He whips him, front first into the corner, Shootah hits hard and hangs, leaning forward, into the turnbuckle. Lugo stalks behind him, lifting Shootah up, onto the top rope. Lugo climbs onto the second rope, he jumps into the air, locks his legs around the back of Shootah’s head and tosses him from the top into the ring with a Reverse Top Rope Rana!! Shootah is flat on his back, motionless. Lugo covers him as Javier counts along with Scruff~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and Lugo is declared the winner. Nunes enters the ring and pushes Scruff out of the way, raising Lugo’s hand himself~
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance into the second round of the OCW Title Tournament…JULIO LUGO!!!!!
Smith: Impressive win by the former Television Champion, it appears he’s retained much of his former skill.
Hood: I’ve never been more disappointed in a debut. I really thought Deluxxx was going to be the greatest thing since internet pornography.
Smith: There’s still time, Hood. Many great wrestlers lost their debut.
Hood: I guess…
Smith: Well, things are moving along smoothly thus far, a rarity in OCW…but, this is a new OCW so maybe this is how things will go from now on.
Hood: Kinda boring…like a car race without a crash…like, seriously, where’s the fun in that?
Smith: The fun is in the sport, the competition.
Hood: You know what people remember? They remember controversy. Do people remember whoever the fuck won the gold in the 1994 winter Olympics figure skating? Fuck no. But they sure as shit remember Tonya Harding putting a hit out on Nancy Kerrigan. That’s what sells, man.
Smith: You watch figure skating?
Hood: I do when a hit man blind sides one of the competitors in the knee.
Smith: Right…well, anyway, let’s head backstage
~AKB is outside, smoking a cigarette. The cool, Key West breeze blows each exhalation of smoke off into the sky. He places a pair of sunglasses over his eyes and stares out, over the coast. He mutters to himself~
AKB: She had to storm in there and demand they put us to work. What’s wrong with that woman? Doesn’t she know the American dream is getting paid to sit on your ass?
~A couple of disgruntled OCW fans walk by him, complaining about security~
Fan 1: Can’t believe they wouldn’t let us in…we’d been waiting for three hours!
Fan 2: Yea, all because you’re wearing a [bleep] shirt and I’m wearing a [bleep, bleep] shirt. Ridiculous…I hate this new regime.
~A few of the nameless, faceless men in black from earlier rush into view, grabbing hold of the two fans and escorting them off property. AKB shrugs~
AKB: Weird.
~He feels a chill in the air and decides to head back inside. Using his key card, he activates the door and pulls it open. As he does, a hooded figure, about six feet, five inches barrels past him, nearly knocking him over. AKB stumbles and composes himself as the intruder has successfully entered and vanished down the interior corridor~
AKB: What the hell was that? Guy just blew past me, could have at least asked…geez.
~AKB enters without giving the incident another thought. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Worst. Interviewer. Ever.
Hood: I don’t know, man, we saw quite a bit. I think he’s like one of those unintentionally great interviewers in that he’s always around shit, even if he doesn’t realize it.
Smith: I don’t know about any of that…it just seems to me the guy should have interviewed one of the fans or, I don’t know, tried to figure out who that hooded person was.
Hood: That was a big fucker, wasn’t it?
Smith: Definitely tall, looked athletic…walked kind of familiar, don’t you think?
Hood: I don’t have a fucking clue. You think I watch the way people walk? Fuckin weirdo.
Smith: Right…well, it’s time for our main event. In our second and final first round match this evening Cisco Sheppard will take on Detective Jack Puffer. Let’s head down to ringside!
First Round
Detective Jack Puffer (0-0) vs. Cisco Sheppard (0-0)
~”Hurricane” by Bob Dylan plays throughout the arena. Detective Jack Puffer steps out from behind the curtain. He is wearing a goofy hat and coat. Underneath he is shirtless with a pair of wrestling pants on. He is carrying a magnifying glass with him in his right hand. He salutes and shakes hands on his way down as the fans read the Tron and cheer for the man. He reaches the ringside area and spots a man wearing a lucha mask with the Maple Leaf on the forehead. He tries to shake his hand, but the man refuses and sits down. Puffer shrugs and enters the ring~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is our second first round match this evening and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Aurora, Illinois…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 215lbs…Detective Jack Puffer!!!
~Puffer climbs to the middle buckle and puts the magnifying glass to his eye and looks out at the crowd, who claps for him. The tron turns to ‘Boo’ as “Big Pimpin” by Jay-Z begins to play and Cisco Sheppard hustles to the ring. He is wearing basketball shorts and a Jimmy Butler jersey. He hops onto the apron and jumps over the top rope, displaying impressive athleticism~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Baltimore, Maryland…he stands 6’4 and weighs in at 230lbs…Cisco Sheppard!!!
~The bell sounds. Cisco removes his Butler jersey, along with a few gold chains and he hands them to an OCW Security Guard on the outside, who puts them in a safe place. Jack Puffer slides his magnifying glass under the bottom buckle of his corner and removes his jacket, folding it in half and politely handing it over, along with his hat, to the same guard. They meet in the middle of the ring. Cisco sizes Puffer up with confusion. Puffer extends his hand. Cisco shakes it and the two take a few steps back~
Smith: This Puffer guy seems alright to me
Hood: He’s a poof!
Smith: WHAT?!
Hood: Oh, so you know what poof means, right?
Smith: I’m afraid I do and you can’t say that on TV.
Hood: Too late
~Puffer and Cisco lock up. Puffer backs Cisco into a corner. Scruff squeezes in, forcing a break. Puffer backs away and extends his hands at the side. He then unleashes a vicious chop across the tattooed chest of Sheppard. Sheppard’s eyes grow wide, once the pain subsides. He grabs Puffer by the ears, twirls him around and hurls him into the corner. They reverse positions. Sheppard punches away at the face of Puffer. Puffer ducks in between the top and middle rope. Scruff forces another break. An angry Cisco stomps around the middle of the ring, holding his chaffed chest~
Smith: I don’t think Cisco Sheppard is a fan of knife edged chops.
Hood: Dude, this Puffer guy is gonna get it. It may not be at the hands of Sheppard but a guy like that isn’t long for OCW, I don’t care who’s running it.
Smith: I hope you’re wrong. That man has dignity, class, sophistication…I hope he’s the new pillar of success in OCW, the future face of the company.
Hood: Apparently there’s only room for one face in this company.
~Hood points at the giant Buffet picture staring down on everything~
Smith: Indeed.
~Once Scruff removes himself from the corner, Cisco charges in for a spear. Puffer moves and Cisco rams his shoulder into the post. Puffer rolls him up and Scruff counts~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Close! Puffer nearly pulled a fast one on Cisco Sheppard!
Hood: Ugh, that would have been miserable. This hasn’t been my night, Smith.
Smith: There’s still time, Hood. Anything can happen in OCW as long as we’re on air.
~Both men pop back to their feet. Cisco raises his fists as Puffer gives him a gentleman’s bow. In the midst of the bow, Cisco kicks him in the face. Puffer staggers back into a nearby corner. Cisco sprints forward and ascends to the first buckle. He grabs the back of Puffer’s head and yanks down on it, he lifts his knee simultaneously and drills knee after knee into Puffer’s face. The fans start to count, but the Tron posts ‘Boo’ so they boo~
Hood: Whew, that was a close one
Smith: What was?
Hood: The way he positioned himself…then grabbing Puffer by the back of the head and yanking down, I was afraid we has going somewhere else with that.
Smith: Not everything is about sex, Hood.
Hood: I know that, I’m not talking about sex, I was talking about a blow job.
Smith: Whatever
~Cisco backs away, Puffer’s nose is bloody. Cisco leans forward as Puffer staggers near him, readying for a big move. Just then, the hooded figure sprints down the aisle and slides into the ring. The fans don’t know how to react, the Tron has nothing to post. The hooded figure kicks Cisco in the gut and gives him a DDT into the mat! He does the same to Puffer. He then snares Puffer’s magnifying glass~
Smith: It’s the hooded man! But who is he?
Hood: AKB?
Smith: No, idiot, AKB was the moron who let him in.
Hood: Hey, it could be a swerve!
Smith: If we start seeing swerves like that, I demand we get taken off the air.
~Holding the magnifying glass high, the man removes his hood by tossing it back~
Smith: It’s PERZAG!
Hood: The OCW Paradigm Champion…the most worthy of them all!
Smith: I’m all for PerZag in OCW but I don’t think the new regime is going to stand for this.
Hood: Me neither but let the guy have some fun until those faceless ass holes take care of him.
Smith: Indeed!
~Cisco gets to his feet. PerZag jams the end of the handle into his left eye. Cisco grabs his eye socket and flails around on the mat, rolling out of the ring. Puffer gets to his feet and PerZag smashes the glass against his forehead, cutting him open. Puffer falls to the mat, holding his head and rolling out of the ring. PerZag is all alone as the fans, for the first time since OCW 2017 started up, take their own initiative. They begin chanting “PerZag! PerZag! PerZag!”~
Smith: Listen to these fans, they remember!
Hood: Fuck yea they do! The man, PerZag has broken the spell!
Voice: Shut up! All of you, shut up!
~The fans quiet down immediately. The Eastern European is standing atop the stage with a mic in his hand. For the first time since our introduction, we see anger on his face. He points at PerZag~
Eastern European: You ruin my show? I ruin your life! Get him!
~The faceless men appear around the ring, ready to slide in. PerZag pulls something out from inside his sweat shirt and holds it up. The Eastern European squints for a better look, they appear to be documents of some kind. The faceless men take PerZag down, the papers fly everywhere. The Eastern European heads to the ring~
Smith: What are those papers? We have heard rumors that [bleep] offered some new, long term contracts before Buffet officially took over.
Hood: [bleep]’s last fuck you to the new regime, right?
Smith: Maybe.
~The Eastern European steps into the ring and gathers the papers. He reads them over. His anger turns into concern. He looks down at PerZag, who is being held by several of the faceless men, ready to Taser and cuff him at any time~
Eastern European: Let him up. Give him mic.
~PerZag reaches his feet and is handed a mic. The faceless men disperse and are soon gone. It is just PerZag and The Eastern European. OCW Security is around the ring and Puffer, along with Cisco, continue to nurse their wounds~
PerZag: I’m just here looking for you to honor that contract. Now, I know we can’t say his name here anymore. But the last guy to run this place signed me to a ten year contract the night of Hood Rich.
Eastern European: How about I give you money, yes? I give you money and you go home.
PerZag: That’s not going to work for me. I’m the OCW Paradigm Champion and I want to be the next OCW Champion. I want a spot in this tournament.
Eastern European: You are not the Paradigm Champion. We do not recognize this. And tournament is set, you cannot compete, sorry.
PerZag: I am the Paradigm Champion and you will put me into this tournament. These participants are not worthy of the OCW Title. Only one man is, and that man is me.
~Cisco has entered the ring, the OCW medical staff has placed a bandage over his wounded eye. Puffer re-enters as well, his wounds have been dressed. The Eastern European smiles~
Eastern European: Fine, fine, Mr. Zag. You can be in tournament. But your match is now and is handicap match against Puffer and Sheppard.
~He looks to Puffer and Sheppard~
Eastern European: You two beat him and you get automatic Title shots after tournament, okay? You two lose and I set fire to you!
~The Eastern European exits the ring, leaving PerZag, in his street clothes alone with Puffer and Cisco. The bell rings. Cisco and Puffer gather in a corner. PerZag removes his hoodie and undershirt. He’s in as great a shape as ever~
First Round
PerZag (0-0) vs. Detective Jack Puffer (0-0) vs. Cisco Sheppard (0-0)
Smith: Unbelievable…the entire landscape of this tournament has been upended!
Hood: No shit, PerZag is one of the greatest wrestlers in OCW history and now he has a pretty clear path to the one title he’s always wanted, but never earned.
Smith: Indeed.
Hood: But, I do have one question. Did our on-site GM just threaten to burn those two alive?
Smith: I think he meant that he’d fire them.
Hood: Ah, okay. This new regime continues to disappoint. I was down for some Salem witch trial shit.
Smith: Too bad, so sad. Starz is a liberal station but I doubt they’re that liberal.
Hood: True, plus it would probably ruin the smell in here permanently. So, yea, I guess he should just fire them instead.
~Cisco dives for PerZag’s legs. PerZag gets the right one out of the way, but Cisco is able to corral the left. PerZag tries to stomp on him with his right leg, but Puffer nails him with a spinning wheel kick!! PerZag falls over, thanks to Cisco having hold of half his base. Puffer rushes into a corner, hops onto the second rope and leaps off with a leg drop. He covers PerZag, Scruff makes the count while Cisco holds the right leg down~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: PerZag barely escaped but, at this rate, he isn’t going to last much longer.
Hood: Why didn’t that idiot hold both legs down?
Smith: That is an excellent question
~Puffer pulls PerZag to his feet as Cisco lets go of the leg and stands. Puffer applies a Full Nelson. Cisco jabs away at PerZag’s midsection. PerZag spits in Cisco’s face! Cisco staggers back, PerZag breaks through Puffer’s hold and he tosses him at Cisco with a hip toss! Cisco dodges Puffer and he lunges at PerZag with a lariat!! PerZag stumbles into the corner. Cisco hustles into the corner and drives a sequence of shoulders into the gut of PerZag. He finally backs away and checks on Puffer, who is a bit dazed~
Smith: A bit of fight there by PerZag
Hood: I think we should at least make sure a guy can handle a fucking hip toss before putting him in the ring. For fuck’s sake, it’s a hip toss, how is he so shaken up?
Smith: He did suffer blunt trauma to his head, maybe he’s a bit shaky.
Hood: Nah, I think the truth lies in the realm of him being a fucking pussy.
Smith: I’m glad we’re on Starz.
Hood: I’m more an HBO fan myself
~Cisco yells at Puffer to get his act together. Puffer takes in a big breath and steadies. He nods at Cisco. Cisco whips PerZag at Puffer. Puffer goes for a clothesline, PerZag ducks it. He stops, twirls Puffer around and kicks him in the gut. He hurls Puffer over the top rope. Puffer spills violently. Cisco jumps on PerZag’s back. PerZag grabs the back of Cisco’s head and drops to his ass, nailing a weak stunner. Cisco staggers into the ropes. PerZag charges in and he clotheslines Cisco over the top rope, opposite side where Puffer went over. Cisco hits hard and grabs his knee in pain, after it buckled from the landing~
Smith: PerZag has cleared the ring! Finally, he’s on level footing!
Hood: Actually, his footing is elevated
Smith: it’s wrestling parlance, Hood…figure of speech!
Hood: Parlance, like you want to make a deal?
Smith: Ugh, nevermind
~PerZag spots Cisco’s wounded knee and hops out of the ring. He motions like he’s going to ram the knee into the steel steps but, given the situation, he pauses. He looks at the Buffet picture and, instead, picks Cisco up and tosses him into the ring. He slides in behind Cisco and picks him up. He drags Cisco into a corner and comes charging to the center of the ring with a Bulldog! Cisco is laid out. Through the corner of his eye, PerZag spots Puffer climbing back into the ring~
Smith: This is a complicated situation. Whenever he gets Cisco down, Puffer emerges…and, I’m sure once he gets Puffer down, Cisco will re-emerge.
Hood: Shit’s tough man.
Smith: Nice breakdown, Hood.
~Puffer motions slowly toward PerZag, too slow. PerZag hops to his feet and he charges at Puffer, shouldering into Puffer’s midsection and driving him into the nearest corner. He drills Puffer with left and right, re-opening his wounds. With blood staining his left and right fists, PerZag smiles and delivers a headbutt, applying some of the crimson mask to his face. He lifts Puffer up and places him on the top turnbuckle. He climbs up there with him~
Smith: Perhaps the Worthiest of them All is going to attempt a move so devastating Puffer won’t get up.
Hood: Like death?
Smith: Let’s hope not
~PerZag looks to be attempting a suplex from the top. Cisco gets to his feet, stumbling around. PerZag spots him. He steadies himself on the top rope and leaps off with a top rope moonsault onto Cisco!!! Instead of pinning Cisco he rushed back for Puffer, who is still perched atop the third buckle~
Smith: He just connected with Death From Above! Was that not enough?
Hood: Hey, you fucking called it, man. He wants to put both these fuckers down to ensure they don’t screw with his pinfall attempt.
Smith: Indeed!
~PerZag, standing on the mat, grabs Puffer by the hair and leans him forward, almost as though he were going for a muscle buster. Instead, it turns into a suplex with the leg hooked. He drops Puffer in the middle of the ring, leg hooked and his body bridged. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings as a few cheers ring out. But the Tron posts ‘Boo’ so the crowd gives a half hearted jeer. PerZag doesn’t care, he smiles and raises his hands in the air~
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the second man this evening to advance into the semi-finals of the OCW Title Tournament…PERZAG!!!!!
Smith: PerZag did it, continuing to show all of OCW that he is worthy.
Hood: I think we’re far fucking beyond him being worth. Guy is pretty damn good, if you ask me.
Smith: Good enough to win the OCW Title?
Hood: Sure, if the people running this place…
~Hood pauses. OCW Security has taken notice of his commentary~
Hood: What I meant to say was if his body will hold up to the punishment!
Smith: It is a tough sport, for sure.
~PerZag heads to the back. OCW Security, not the faceless men, usher Puffer and Cisco to the back. Cisco, pissed and humiliated, sees the same masked man from earlier. The masked man is staring at him. Cisco hurls an insult followed by a punch. The masked man dodges the punch with minimal effort, showing impressive reflexes~
Smith: Cisco Sheppard is not taking this loss well
Hood: Why are people allowed to wear masks to these events?
Smith: Because it’s a free country
Hood: Especially masks with the Canadian flag on them. Fuck…maybe that’s why. We’re a free country and Canada isn’t so they come down here to express their freedom!
Smith: Canada is a free country you imbecile.
Hood: It is?
Smith: Yes
Hood: So Canadians act that way on purpose?
Smith: For the love! Folks, I’m being told a big announcement is forthcoming. So, while they get the ring ready, let’s head to Who’Re and see if she can shed some light on this.
~Who’Re is backstage, alone, looking around. She seems confused~
Who’Re: Thanks Smith, I regret to inform you that I’m at a loss. Earlier tonight, when PerZag made his shocking appearance the Eastern European bolted from his office to handle the situation. He has not returned. I’ve tried finding him but have had no luck. Whatever is about to go down…I’m ashamed to admit I have nothing resembling a clue.
AKB: Told you it was a waste of time. I at least caught the hooded man. Want to go grab a drink?
Who’Re: Alpha? Get out of my screen shot!
~The two struggle as we cut back to ringside~
Eastern European: Hello everybody! It is a beautiful night, yes? A fun night, no?
~”Cheer” appears on the Tron. The fans cheer loudly. EE is standing in the center of the ring. The mat is covered with a plush, red carpet. OCW security surrounds the ring. EE claps his hands and continues speaking~
Eastern European: Yes! And tonight is going to get even...better!! I have major announcement for everybody!
~”Cheer” is adjusted to “CHEER” and the arena’s foundation nearly shakes from all the obsequious cheering. EE waves his hands at the ground with a giant smile, eyes closed facial expression. “CHEER” disappears and “Silence” appears in its place. The crowd quiets down~
Eastern European: I am pleased to be making you all so very happy tonight! Now, get ready. Are you ready, everybody? Great!
~EE quiets down and there is a long, weird pause. He seems at a loss for words~
Smith: Is he okay?
Hood: Did he die?
Smith: I think he’s just struggling with the right verbiage.
Hood: That or his batteries ran out.
Smith: Heh…
~Smith laughs nervously at Hood’s remark. EE finally moves and he points at the curtain at the top of the entrance ramp. The lights go out and a drum roll begins followed by strobe lights flashing. Once the drum roll finishes the word “INCREDIBLE” flashes on the screen and the crowd immediately starts to boo the roof off the arena as “Honor Thy Father” by Dream Theater loudly plays. The words CHEER reappear but the crowd doesn’t budge on their disdain for the returning OCW veteran.
Smith: Oh no…
Hood: Yes!
Smith: Of all people…
Hood: YES! YES!
~After several moments of the theme playing, finally “The Incredible One” walks out from behind the curtain followed by his bodyguard, Knux. Mr. Incredible soaks up the hatred from the crowd with a smirk, raising his hands in the air while EE is in the ring clapping his hands. Incredible starts down the ramp, trying to get to the fans booing him but Knux places himself between the fans and the Incredible One. Mr. Incredible readjusts himself at the bottom of the ramp before quickly sliding into the ring and shaking hands with EE.~
Smith: I can’t believe it… “the Incredible” Ian---
Hood: NO! Don’t say his name!
Smith: Um… why?
Hood: It’s in his contract, he is to be referred to as the Incredible One and Mr. Incredible only.
Smith: So, his real name is taboo?
Hood: It’s like if you utter the name Bloody Mary, he’ll appear immediately and kill you.
Smith: You know that isn’t real… right?
Hood: I don’t own a single mirror in my home.
~Incredible’s theme music fades out as he stands in the middle of the ring, surrounded by EE and his security. Knux is behind him, arms folded, surveying the area. EE passes Incredible a microphone and he goes to speak but the crowd continues to jeer the hell out of the former two time OCW Central Champion. Incredible snickers before finally speaking.~
The Incredible One: I can see our love for each other hasn’t changed. You know what would be nice? If a fucking hurricane blew through here and wiped you sorry idiots off the map.
~That remark started an “asshole” and “go away” chant as Mr. Incredible laughed loudly.~
The Incredible One: But enough about you sorry losers… this is all about me. Yes, that’s right, the man nobody thought that would come back to OCW is back, the greatest wrestler to ever grace the inside of an OCW ring… Mister Incredible! And I wouldn’t have returned if a certain somebody was still running this place - but I have since learned uttering his name is a total disgrace, which I agree with, so I shall not. Right here we have an example of what management should be like: the Eastern European. He contacted me and normally if it were “HE SHALL NOT BE NAMED” I would’ve had to rebuttal and argue and call him racial slurs but this guy offered me a contract I could not refuse. But you all want to know… besides the money, why am I back? It’s simple really… to pick up right where I left off. Kicking ass and winning titles. You all know that this is the truth… because I SPEAK THE TRUTH! My original time with this company is widely regarded as one of the greatest outings of any wrestler ever and this won’t be like the other small times I came back - oh no - this time I’m going to destroy every single wrestler that steps in front of me and prove to all of you that I still got it, that I am still… this… damn… INCREDIBLE! And that won’t stop until I have gold around my waist and the ultimate prize… the OCW World Championship.
~Mister Incredible lowers his hands and waives them in front of his waist, like he has a belt around it, and the crowd continues to boo and some begin to throw trash to the ring. His music plays as he and EE shake hands again. They both leave the ring and head up the ramp with The Eastern European patting him on the back, overly excited about his arrival~
Smith: Well folks, that’s about it for tonight…what a huge announcement…first PerZag and now the unthinkable…The Incredible One has returned!
Hood: I don’t know about you Smith but I haven’t been this excited since last night!
Smith: No additional details necessary. Well folks, next week we have a great lineup for you as Truda, OCW’s first Tibetan wrestler will make his debut. Also, the OCW Title Tournament will continue as…what the…
~Someone screams, Smith stops speaking. The camera jolts to the left. The masked man in the front row is attacking an OCW Security member. He pulls out an ice pick and digs at the man’s head. The security man’s legs wiggle as he’s unable to break free. The masked men takes the handle and knocks him out with it. He slides into the ring. Another OCW security guard enters, the masked man drills him in the face with the pick. Blood pours onto the mat. The Eastern European and The Incredible One have stalled at the top of the ramp, staring into the ring. The Eastern European’s face is red with anger. He yells into the mic~
Eastern European: Who are you? You are ruining the moment! Get him out of here, get him!!!
~The masked man removes a contract from his back pocket and holds it up high. The Eastern European’s face goes from authoritative anger to frustration. He kicks the stage with his foot. The Incredible One offers to head to the ring, he halts him~
Eastern European: Wait, wait. Who is he? WHO ARE YOU??
~The man reaches for his mask. He grabs it at the top, over the Canadian flag. He slowly removes it to reveal the face of Bob Grenier!~
Smith: It’s Bob Grenier the OCW…err, uhmm…the FORMER OCW Champion!
Hood: I should have known it…only one man would wield an ice pick with such ferociousness!
Smith: I guess
~Grenier tosses the mic onto the fallen guard. A few faceless men have gathered around the ring. Grenier urges them to enter. His eyes are wild, the man appears to have ventured onto the dangerous side of sanity~
Eastern European: Give him mic, let him speak before we punish him.
~Grenier is handed a mic~
Bob Grenier: I think you know what I want. I want what you gave PerZag. I want what’s rightfully mine. I won the OCW Title against Chad Vargas at Hood Rich. I never lost it…shit, I never even defended the damn thing. The least you can do is put me in this fucking tournament right fucking now…otherwise, I’m going to mangle every last one of these idiots surrounding this ring.
~Eastern European whispers something to a staff member, he rushes behind the curtain~
Eastern European: This is fine. Everybody need to calm down now. You want in tournament, that is fine. You are in. But you must win a match, tonight against this person.
~”Superbeast” by Rob Zombie hits. The crowd ooh’s and aah’s as they turn to the entrance ramp. Big Swole appears and marches to the ring. He looks bigger and swoler than ever. Grenier steps back against the ropes and works his arms back and forth, not appearing afraid in any way. Swole steps onto the apron and over the top rope~
OCW Title Tournament
First Round
Big Swole (1-0) vs. Bob Grenier (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, this match is scheduled for one fall and the winner will be inserted into the OCW Title Tournament! Introducing first, from Helena, Montana…he stands seven feet, one inch and weighs in at 335lbs…he is Big Swole!!
~Swole yells across the ring at Grenier. Grenier rolls his eyes and throws a hand at him as to say, “Whatever”~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…Bob Grenier!!
~The bell rings. Grenier slides out of the ring as soon as Swole takes a step forward. Casually, Grenier strolls toward the time keeper and hoists a chair in the air. He folds it up and slides back in the ring, holding it as though it were a baseball bat. Swole looks at him and then up the ramp~
Eastern European: No, no. You use that, you no longer qualified. Put the chair down and fight like real man!
~Grenier puts the chair down and kicks it to the edge of the apron, where it remains. He circles Swole, who is in the center of the ring. Swole walks in a circle, keeping his eye on Grenier who is looking for a weakness~
Smith: A tall task for Grenier, literally.
Hood: I’m thinking he should have kept the mask on and remained behind the guard rail.
Smith: A true champion doesn’t back down from anything
Hood: Well, I wouldn’t want to be a true champion
~Grenier rushes Swole. He wraps his arms around Swole’s waist and tries to back him into a corner. Swole solidifies his base and is immovable. He lifts Grenier into the air and drills him into the mat with a powerbomb! Grenier is motionless. Swole places his foot atop Grenier’s chest~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP
Smith: Grenier’s return nearly ended in less than a minute!
Hood: Holy fuck that was a vicious powerbomb
Smith: Quick, too. I don’t think Bob knew what was going on until he hit the mat.
~Swole yanks Grenier to his feet out of frustration. He picks Grenier up and tosses him into a corner. The ropes are all that keeps Grenier from spilling to the mat. Swole charges in for a splash. Grenier lets gravity do most of the work for him as he pulls his arms off the ropes. His body falls to the mat and he rolls out of the way. Swole slams into the corner and staggers back, shaking his head~
Smith: Smart move by Grenier but I doubt it’s going to keep Swole stunned for too long.
Hood: Yea, I doubt even Richard would get pinned after running into the corner.
Smith: Good point
Hood: Eh, now that I think about it, he probably would. Richard was an awful wrestler.
~Grenier pulls himself up, using the ropes. He runs at Swole and leaps through the air with a flying lariat. Swole staggers into the ropes and bounces off. Grenier is on his feet. Swole, after bouncing off crashes into Grenier with a shoulder block! Grenier slams into the mat and grabs the back of his head from a violent whiplash~
Smith: Uhh…gutted, that was probably the only shot Grenier had at stealing this one.
Hood: Size does matter, just ask the mother fucking T-Rex.
Smith: I don’t know, Hood. I’ve seen the T-Rex die in a fair amount of movies.
Hood: Would you lay off him, man? The dude’s got baby hands, like that scene in Deadpool, he does the best he can, alright?
Smith: Alright, geez
~Swole places his giant foot in the gut of Grenier. He steps over Grenier, placing all of his weight onto the leg. Grenier’s knees curl up and his arms wrap around his stomach, he rolls around in tremendous pain. Swole confidently walks toward the ropes. He leans into them and gets a good kick back. He walks toward Grenier, lifts up a leg and goes to drop it on top of the former OCW Champion. Grenier moves! Swole lands on his ass and grabs that part of his hip and grimaces~
Smith: Another crafty move by Grenier…he’s got a second window of opportunity!
Hood: I had a window of opportunity once, to make something of myself
Smith: This isn’t the time or the place.
Hood: But I threw a rock into it…shattered dreams, man.
Smith: Hey, this isn’t a bad gig, perk up!
Hood: Sitting next to you my entire life? Yea, this gig is pretty terrible.
~Grenier crawls to his knees, the works to his feet. Swole, on his ass, is about chest level to Grenier. Grenier punches away at the head of Swole. Swole powers to one knee. Grenier bites the forehead of Swole. Swole shoves him away, into the ropes. Swole gets to his feet…Grenier charges at Swole, off the ropes and goes for a cross body. Swole catches Grenier and tosses him over his head with a Fallaway Slam!! Grenier arches his back in pain, lying near the bottom rope~
Smith: Ugh
Hood: Just end the match, save this Canadian even more embarrassment
Smith: More embarrassment?
Hood: Well, you know, aside from being Canadian.
~Swole grabs Grenier’s legs and drags his defeated body into the center of the ring. He obtains a fist full of Grenier’s sweaty hair and forces him to a standing position. He knees Grenier in the belly. Grenier doubles over, Swole motions for his finisher, Ground Zero~
Smith: The dreaded Jacknife Powerbomb…if he hits this, Grenier won’t be kicking out.
Hood: Didn’t we already see a powerbomb from this freak?
Smith: Yes, but it was JUST a powerbomb. This time he’s going for a JACKNIFE powerbomb.
Hood: The fuck is the difference?
Smith: Point of release, I believe. You see, when you powerbomb someone…
Hood: Never fucking mind
~Swole lifts Grenier up. Grenier jams a thumb into Swole’s eye! Swole loses his grip. Grenier crawls around the upper body of Swole and takes hold of his back, like a human back pack. He bites down on Swole’s ear!! Swole’s fit stomp furiously as he reaches for Grenier’s hair. Grenier is clamped on, tight. Swole flips Grenier over his head and to the mat. As he does, Grenier rips Swole’s left ear off by his teeth!! Blood pours from the side of Swole’s head as he quickly grabs the tear. He looks at his blood soaked hand after feeling an empty space where something once resided~
Smith: He bit his ear off!!
Hood: And it was the left one, too!
Smith: What difference does that make?
Hood: C’mon, Smith…EVERYBODY knows the left ear is the superior ear.
~Smith covers his right ear and listens exclusively with his left ear. He then covers the left ear for comparison. He sees no difference. He refocuses his attention on the match. Swole, furious of what’s taken place, works his right arm back and forth as though he’s giving it momentum. Grenier, mouth shut, blood all over his lips and chin stands up as though he’s ready to receive Swole’s best shot. Swole walks up to Grenier with his arm cocked, fist clenched. He lunges forward. As he does, Grenier spits the torn away ear and a mouth full of spit and blood into Swole’s face!!! Swole staggers around, turning his back to Grenier. Grenier rolls him up. Scruff slides in and makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. Swole kicks out right after three, but the match is over. Grenier crawls away, wiping his mouth~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...BOB GRENIER!!!!!
Smith: He did it!! Grenier overcame the odds and defeated the behemoth, Big Swole!
Hood: Fucking guy really wanted to win that one
Smith: Indeed! But now Big Swole is angry…
Hood: Yea and hell hath no fury like a giant, muscular man with a torn away ear going after the man who tore it away.
Smith: Hmm…excellent…
Hood: BUT…a woman scorned is still worse.
~Grenier sees the fury in Swole’s face. He crawls for the chair, which is still lying near the edge of the ring. He obtains it. Swole grabs him by the hair. Grenier thrusts the chair back, into the knee of Swole. Swole releases Grenier. Grenier gets to his feet and he smacks Swole in the face with the chair. Swole falls to his knees. Grenier smacks him again in the head. Swole falls to his side. Grenier drills Swole with shot after shot after shot. OCW Security slides in, afraid that Massacre might turn into a snuff film~
Smith: Grenier is intent on killing the man!
Hood: What a fucking lunatic! As if ripping his LEFT ear away wasn’t enough
Smith: Oh yea, by the way, I tried both ears…they sound the same to me.
Hood: You must have a defective left ear.
~This notion bothers Smith. He wrings his left ear as though it were plugged with water. Grenier begins fighting with OCW security. He nails one with a chair, knocking him out of the ring. He drills another and another. EE rushes from behind the curtain~
Eastern European: You stop that right now! Stop it!
~Grenier refuses to listen. He takes another Security member out. A presence surrounds the ring. The OCW Security team stops moving for him and begins backing away. Grenier looks outside the ring. A group of faceless men have surrounded it. They look into the ring at Grenier, eerily. Grenier looks up at the Buffet poster staring down at him. His hands open. The chair falls to the mat. He exits the ring, in an area where no faceless men are standing. Grenier hops the railing and exits through the crowd. EE is seething on the ramp~
Eastern European: Disaster! Set fire to him! Set fire to that idiot!
~He points at Big Swole who is covered in blood, part from the missing ear but mostly from the numerous chair shots to the head. EE heads to the back as the faceless men enter the ring and almost consume Swole. They pull him out of the ring and up the ramp, disappearing behind the curtain~
Smith: What a night! Bob Grenier, PerZag, and The Incredible One have all returned! The landscape has turned sideways!
Hood: And I heard everything you said, crystal clear because you are speaking into my superior left ear.
Smith: Shut up and give me some REAL analysis on tonight’s happenings.
Hood: Well, PerZag is back, which is neat-o. Grenier is back and pissed off management which I’m typically a fan of. Those faceless men though, I…
~OCW Security moves toward him~
Smith: I don’t think we’re supposed to acknowledge them.
Hood: Shit, my bad. Like I was saying…the return of Mr. Incredible was divine, heavenly…possibly the greatest return in the history of OCW!
Smith: It was something I never expected to see again.
Hood: So…where do we go from here?
Smith: From what I’ve been told Grenier will compete in a triple threat against Vortex and Reid.
Hood: Alright
Smith: Also, we will be seeing the debut of the Dravers Boys as they take on Deluxxx!
Hood: The porn guys?
Smith: *sigh* yes, the porn guys.
Hood: Sweet. And these Dravers, are they into porn as well?
Smith: I…I don’t believe so, no.
Hood: Do they have internet access?
Smith: I would hope
Hood: Then they are into porn.
Smith: Regardless…we will also see three singles debuts from Truda, Rebel, and “The Welsh Dragon” Dan White.
Hood: Tons of debuts and returns…dare I ask…anything else?
Smith: Thanks for asking, Hood. In our second to last match of the evening PerZag will take on Julio Lugo in a Semi-Final tournament match up!
Hood: Wait…that’s a semi-final match?
Smith: Yep
Hood: The hell is the main event?
Smith: The Incredible One in his return match to OCW! Now, before you say anything, I know how it looks…
Hood: WHY ON EARTH WOULD I TAKE UMBRAGE WITH THAT?! This is going to be the greatest night in the history of OCW! The Incredible One should ALWAYS be in the main event!
Smith: Right. Anyway folks, let’s take a look at the updated brackets for the OCW Title Tournament
Smith: Indeed! Thanks for watching folks, we’ll see you all next week!
~The show ends and the feed fades to black~