LIVE! Monday, January 30th 2017
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~The show opens up with an ‘Earlier in the Day’ graphic. A group of rabid OCW fans are tailgating outside the OCW Arena. They are wearing a mishmash of old OCW merchandise. Shirts featuring the faces of wrestlers from other eras are donned. They are drinking heavily and amped for the show. Who’Re, naturally, is drawn to this type of behavior. She shows up with a mic in her hand~
Who’Re: Hello everyone, Who-Ray here and I’ve noticed some hearty OCW fans pre-gaming for tonight’s show. Let’s get a word with them…
~The jocular nature of the group comes to a halt when they notice the slutty looking woman heading their way. They drink their beers and smile~
Who’Re: Gentlemen, I see you’re all having a great time.
Lead Guy: Hey everyone, it’s that stupid backstage girl, Whore! What’s up, Whore? You want to party?
Who’Re: It’s Who-Ray and, no, I don’t want to party. I was just excited to see some OCW tailgating.
Lead Guy: Yea, well we saw last week’s show and that shit rocked my pants off, ya know? So we decided to drive down here from the U…Miami, right? We did some drinking on the way down and have continued the party in this lot. We’ve been fans for a while, typical behavior. We’re just wondering where everyone else is at…these parking lots used to be fucking full of partiers, whore.
~They are the only ones tailgating. But, that doesn’t dampen their drunken spirits~
Who’Re: You guys might want to slow down. They don’t sell beer in the OCW Arena, you might get tired during the show if you don’t eat or get some coffee.
Lead Guy: What? They don’t sell beer in there? You’ve got to be…
~He looks at Who’Re and laughs~
Lead Guy: You almost got me, haha. After all, you’re just some whore. Like you would really know what goes on inside there, haha. Good one!
~The Lead Guy finishes his beer~
Lead Guy: Hey, Larry, get me another beer! Hurry!
~A meek friend of theirs who isn’t drinking takes the cup and fills it up with beer. He hands it back to the Lead Guy~
Lead Guy: That’s Larry, he’s the bitch of the group.
~Everyone, including Larry, shares a laugh at his expense. OCW Security shows up. They inform the group they have to leave. The group gets angry and hurls curse laden drunken retorts. Larry, though, complies, packing things up just as he’s told~
OCW Security Guard: If you guys don’t pack up right now, you will be arrested.
Lead Guy: Bro, I’ve been a fan of OCW for years. This is bullshit!
~A few of the faceless men appear. This startles the party group. The lead guy backs away and motions for his friends to get into their party van. They slowly pile in with Larry the last one remaining, as he helps lift the bottom of the keg into the back of the van~
OCW Security Guard: Wait.
~They all pause~
OCW Security Guard: He can stay.
~The group is masked with confusion. Larry points at his shirt, which features a picture of Ehud. The OCW Security Guard nods and Larry walks toward him~
Lead Guy: Don’t you do it, Larry! Come back here, Larry! Hey…FUCK YOU LARRY! FUCK YOU, LARRY!!!
~The group cusses Larry out ferociously. They slam their doors shut and drive off. The OCW Security guard escorts Larry into the building and we cut to the live feed. It pans around the docile crowd. “CHEER” hits the Tron and the fans jump to their feet and go wild. Several signs for “The Incredible One” can be found. A sign for the “The Dravers Boys” is located. “Lugo > PerZag” is found. “Grenier is terrible” is also discovered. We pan along the front row and Larry is seen with prime real estate. He is wearing an “OCW 2017” t-shirt, which replaces his Ehud shirt from earlier. He is cheering and clapping along with the rest of the crowd~
Smith: Hello again everybody and welcome to Monday Night Massacre!! Tonight’s show marks the third episode of 2017 and, coincidentally, the third show under the new regime.
Hood: it appears as though Larry the Superfan is here as well. What a fucking Benedict Tom Arnold.
Smith: Benedict Arnold you fool.
Hood: I know that, I just thought throwing Tom in there would add further insult.
Smith: Regardless, that is a sharp t-shirt he has on.
~Hood looks up at the giant portrait of Buffet~
Hood: Sure
Smith: Anyway, we have a great night…
Hood: But, as bad as Larry the SuperFan may be…nothing can equal the shittiness of that ‘Grenier Is Terrible’ sign. For fucks sake, whoever came up with that ingenious idea should stock shelves…forever.
Smith: You will not deter me or tonight’s broadcast, Hood. Tonight, folks, we have two matches in the continuation of the OCW Title Tournament as Julio Lugo and PerZag duel it out in Semi-Final action and Bob Grenier, OCW’s last champion, competes in a triple threat against Reid and Vortex.
Hood: Let’s hope Grenier isn’t ‘terrible’ tonight.
Smith: Enough. And, as if that wasn’t good enough, we have the debuts of FOUR new talents. Truda and “The Welsh Dragon” Dan White compete in a triple threat, also featuring “The Demon” Lance Savage while Rebel takes on Debris.
Hood: Cool, those guys sound solid. I’m not sure how a guy named ‘Rebel’ is going to do around here, under this management, but they did hire him, so who knows. Maybe he’s an oxymoron.
Smith: Given what I’ve seen, doubtful. He is truly rebellious! And, The Dravers Boys will take on Deluxxx in the first tag team match in OCW 2017!
Hood: But…but…what else…do tell…what else…c’mon, what else…gimme the main event….let me hear it!
Smith: *sigh* Yes and, in our main event…The Incredible One takes on Jamoke.
Hood: Don’t say it wish such dissidence. I heard Jamoke started a steroid regimen and he’s all roided up. That match might be more competitive than you think.
Smith: Doubtful. So, folks…we’ve wasted enough of your time on this intro…let’s get down to business.
~Smith is handed something. His brow furrows~
Hood: What is it? Did Jamoke get busted for roids? Is our main event ruined??
Smith: No, I’m being told we’re cutting to a live feed from Japan for a MAJOR announcement…
Hood: Ah, the land of milk and honey
Smith: That’s not Japan.
Alice Knight: Yoshi Kenshinchiwa everybody! Alice Knight here. In beautiful Japan. And not much is JAPAN-APENING...
~Alice looks around for laughs. Gets nothing~
Alice Knight: Really? Nothing... But while it's very beautiful here. I mean what can be more beautiful you ask? A beautiful painting? A beautiful painting of a naked Leonardo DiCaprio? A naked Leo Dicaprio holding a self portrait painting of him in the nude? None of those things. No. And I don't mean The Eastern Europeans looks and charms. Even though they are ravishing. But the real beauty is what I have in my hand....
~Alice holds up an OCW contract~
Alice Knight: That's right. I'm on my way back and it’s signed and by using a fancy fax machine it's official.... and not only that. I'm on my way to the OCW arena in, um.
~Alice checks her ticket~
Alice Knight: In Key West Florida. And by Mr. Double E's ruling I am entering myself in the OCW title tournament against Mr. Hill and Mr. Coe. Just... as soon as i get there. So boys, be ready. Alice is a comin'! Au-revior!
~Alice laughs~
Alice Knight: Damn it, i should have said something in Japanese. Can we redo it?
~The camera shakes 'no'. Alice pouts as the scene fades. We cut to EE’s office where Tatum Coe and Irvin Hill are standing, impatiently. EE turns around, with the video finished and smiles, extending his arms~
Eastern European: Isn’t this a great thing!
Tatum Coe: I’ve been sitting around for three weeks now waiting for my debut. You’re telling me I’ve got to wait another week or two for that crazy woman to get here?
Irvin Hill: Yea, what he said. Besides…
~Hill leans in and whispers to Coe and EE~
Irvin Hill: Is that woman even capable of making it here safely? Should she really be flying alone…she seems a little…
Eastern European: What?
~EE has a confused look on his face~
Irvin Hill: Never mind.
Tatum Coe: This is ridiculous. My time is worth more than what you’re paying. I’m out of here and if that strange woman isn’t ready to wrestle by next week…I will be giving you my notice.
Eastern European: Notice for what? What is this I will be noticing?
~Coe rolls his eyes. EE barrels into his over excited hyping~
Eastern European: Everybody have a relax! We will have the big match soon! It will be great, okay? Now, go, enjoy night!
~Hill and Coe exit, more frustrated than before. We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: What a HUGE announcement! The landscape of OCW has, again, been altered!
Hood: I know, Tatum Coe may quit…this is potentially devastating news.
Smith: Not that, idiot. The return of Alice Knight!
Hood: Ugh, even in Japan she finds a way to haunt us.
Smith: I for one am thrilled to see her back and in the OCW Title Tournament, no less. We had been wondering when Coe and Hill would square off. People found their omission in this week’s lineup confounding…now we know why!
Hood: Yea, but we have to wait for her to get here before the match can take place. Who knows how long that will take…
Smith: Shouldn’t be more than a week…two at most.
Hood: Hah, you obviously have higher expectations than I do.
Smith: Well, whenever she shows up she will compete in a first round match up. So, with this amazing new addition, let’s take a look at our updated brackets!
Smith: What?
Hood: Look at that font, LOOK AT IT! She’s already ruining this tournament.
Smith: I think it adds personality to an otherwise slightly macabre graphic.
Hood: Fucking hearts for dots…
Smith: Don’t be rude, she’s sweet and I’m pulling for her. She’s now my favorite to win the tournament.
Hood: My mother always taught me that if you don’t have something nice to say, keep your mouth shut.
Smith: Words of wis…
Hood: So, I’d just like to add that if that woman wins the OCW Title I…
~”Respect the Wind” by Van Halen hits, cutting Hood off. Debris, accompanied by Vortex, struts to the ring. They reach the ring and climb inside. Vortex extends his arms and twirls around. Debris follows him closely, shedding miscellaneous bits of trash in the wake of Vortex’s spinning~
Rebel (0-0) vs. Debris (0-1)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from A Motel Along Tornado Alley, standing a reported 6’4 and weighing in at a suggested 265lbs…he is one half of Tornado Alley…he is Debris!!
~Scruff walks around, inspecting the trash. He tosses an item out when he deems it lacking in value. The final item, a crumpled up sheet of paper, is unfurled and inspected. Scruff nods and stuffs it down the front of his pants. With the ring clear and Scruff satisfied, “Slow Me Down” by Devin Townsend Band hits and the Tron displays “Cheer!” The fans go wild as Rebel emerges from behind the corner and makes his way to the ring~
Belvedere: And his opponent, standing 6’7 and weighing in at 240lbs…from Chicago, Illinois…introducing, Rebel!!
~Rebel is standing in his corner with the fans chanting his name. “Cheer” disappears and the crowd quiets down. The bell sounds~
Smith: Another week and another debut…Rebel is looking to make a great first impression tonight against Debris.
Hood: I wonder what was on that paper Scruff picked up.
Smith: I’d rather not find out.
Hood: True, if Debris discarded it…must not be worth much.
~Debris and Rebel meet in the middle of the ring. They appear ready to lock up. Debris backs off and hustles toward his corner. He begins conversing with Vortex. They nod and look at Rebel who stands in the middle of the ring, slightly annoyed~
Smith: Oh come on, he’s had all week to prepare!
Hood: Give the man his space, Smith. He’s just now seeing Rebel in person. That spikey white hair is intimidating.
Smith: What about that 6’7 frame?
Hood: Not so much when you’re a solid 6’4 and 265lbs.
Smith: Debris is nowhere NEAR that big.
Hood: Are you inferring he’s lying about his stats?
Smith: No, I’m not inferring he’s lying…I’m flat out declaring it.
~They finish the conversation and Debris heads back to the center of the ring. Both men hulk their shoulders and prepare to lock up. But, again, Debris backs away and talks to Vortex in his corner. A few sighs of frustration are emitted from the crowd. Rebel places his hands on his hips and shakes his head, looking at Scruff. Scruff offers no help, pulling the paper out of his pants and looking it over while he’s got the spare time~
Smith: This is ridiculous!
Hood: You know, Debris might have fudged on his size
Smith: Ya think?
Hood: But he’s just conforming to the nature of his business. You know how weather people always lie about the size of hurricanes and tornadoes. It’s what he’s used to, his environment.
Smith: No, Hood, no. That man is the size of a middle schooler. It goes beyond exaggeration.
~Debris nods and stands. He takes in a deep breath and says, “Alright, lets go.” He heads for Rebel who is beyond ready to lock up. They get into position. But, for the third time, Debris backs off and heads to the corner, this time with a slight smirk on his face. A few boos are created from the crowd’s mounting frustration~
Smith: I’ve had enough of this!
Hood: So, get in there and do something about it.
Smith: Well, I haven’t had that much of it.
Hood: So you’re prone to wild hyperbole, just like Debris, aren’t you?
Smith: That, that…just call the match!
Hood: I would if they’d fucking do something!
~Rebel has had enough. He hustles into the corner and grabs Debris by the hair, dragging him into the middle of the ring. He forces Debris to lock up. He whips Debris into the ropes. Debris bounces off, Rebel goes for a big boot, Debris ducks and hits the other side of the ropes. Rebel spins with a heel kick into the face of Debris, knocking him to the mat! Debris grabs his chin in pain. The crowd cheers~
Smith: Finally, some action!
Hood: You sound like a man with a slow internet connection.
Smith: Could you please go one show without some deplorable reference?
Hood: Sure, if they put us on the fucking Disney channel, but as long as we’re on Starz I’ll blissfully sin my way through each and every broadcast.
~Rebel yanks Debris to his feet and whips him, hard, into the nearest corner. Debris slams into the buckles and his feet fly into the air. His arms hang over the top rope as his lower body almost hangs. Rebel charges in and leaps high in the air with a Stinger Splash, squishing the diminutive Storm Chaser. Vortex, on the outside, appears concerned. He hops on the corner across from the action and yells at Rebel~
Smith: Oh come on, ref. Get him out of here! He has no business being at ringside!
Hood: I could say the same thing about you.
Smith: Oh, don’t get me started on announcer qualifications, Hood.
Hood: I won’t because you’d never stop.
~Rebel heads over and grabs Vortex by the throat. He lifts the small man into the air. Vortex kicks his legs wildly and Rebel looks to chokeslam him all the way to the outside. Debris regains his focus and sprints at Rebel. He clips Rebel in the left knee! The knee buckles and Rebel lets go of Vortex while grabbing the ropes for stability. Vortex lands on the apron and hops to the floor, rubbing his irritated throat~
Smith: So unfair
Hood: For once we agree. Vortex has a HUGE match later this evening and Rebel was about to chokeslam him to the floor.
Smith: I’m talking about the double team tactic
Hood: Hey, if they are as small as you claim, then two of them would equal roughly one Rebel. So, they are just evening out the odds.
~Debris grabs Rebel by the left leg and pulls him into the center of the ring. Rebel is hopping on his right leg, to maintain balance. Debris lifts a kick into the back of Rebel’s vulnerable knee. Rebel clutches it in pain. Debris looks around and smiles. Rebel, using his superior reach, obtains the left arm of Debris. He pulls Debris close and demolishes him with a lariat!! Debris flips inside out before landing on his back~
Smith: Tremendous strength displayed by Rebel. He looks like he could be something special here in OCW.
Hood: That or Debris is really short…on talent.
Smith: I prefer to focus on the positives. You should try it, maybe swallow some Prozac
Hood: Do WHAT to PerZag?
Smith: Never mind
~Rebel stretches his left knee and discovers that it’s alright. He pulls Debris up. Debris tries to thumb Rebel in the eye. Rebel dodges it and shoves Debris into the ropes. Debris bounces off and Rebel picks him up for a spinebuster. Debris, however, hops over Rebel and lands behind him. He runs into the ropes. Rebel turns around and meets a charging Debris with a kick into the gut. He hooks his arm around the head of Debris and drops him with a Fisherman’s Suplex! Rebel pops back to his feet with some momentum. “Cheer” shows on the Tron and the crowd gets behind him~
Smith: The momentum is all behind Rebel now.
Hood: Yea, Vortex is apparently taking a nap on the outside of the ring.
Smith: Napping on his feet? That’d be quite a talent. I think he’s taking it easy, realizing he could jeopardize his odds later this evening by continuing to interfere in this contest.
Hood: What a pal
~Rebel stands back, waiting for Debris to get to his feet. Vortex, on the outside, grows anxious. Debris gets to his feet and staggers around. Rebel motions toward Debris, but Vortex grabs his left leg. Rebel kicks Vortex away and lunges forward with a knee into the gut of Debris. Debris doubles over and Rebel leans into the ropes, ricochets off and drops Debris face first into the mat with a Fameasser~
Smith: He calls that the Rebel Rouser!
Hood: Does he now?
Smith: Sure does, says so right here on this stat sheet. Speaking of…where’s yours?
Hood: Mine…it’s…uhh…umm…damnit, Scruff has it! That damn Debris stole it, crumpled it up and dropped it into the ring! Management will be hearing about this!
Smith: Right
~Vortex climbs onto the apron, realizing the situation is dire. Rebel rushes over and drills him with an elbow into the face. Vortex falls off the apron and lands roughly on the outside. Rebel climbs to the top rope and looks down at Debris, who is lying face first. He leaps off and lands on top of Debris with a 450 Splash!! He rolls Debris over and makes the cover, Scruff counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. “Cheer” displays and the crowd jumps to their feet and gives Rebel a standing ovation~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…REBEL!!!!!
Smith: Tremendous debut for Rebel! And, another loss for Debris.
Hood: His career is falling into ruins.
Smith: How apropos.
Hood: Apri-what? Damn, dude, talk like a normal fucking person.
Smith: Rebel moves to 1-0 in his OCW career and, I’m sure, management has high expectations for him moving forward.
Hood: Yea, guy looked solid.
Smith: Our next match features THREE debuting wrestlers…or, well, two debuting and one returning.
Hood: One returning? Is it Scott Syren? How about Awe.Some? Or, wait, let me guess…it’s Chad Vargas!
Smith: Close…it’s Lance Savage.
Hood: Who the fuck is Lance Savage?
Smith: The Demon?
Hood: Oh, yea, that really narrows it down.
Smith: Whatever…anyway, his return along with the debuts of Truda and “The Welsh Dragon” Dan White is up next. But first, let’s head backstage.
Who’re: Hi lads. A moment of your time?
Nathan: Of course.
Jonathan: Yeah, sure.
Who’re: Coming up later you have your match with John E. Depth and Shootah, of Deluxxx. How are you feeling about it?
Nathan: …
~Nathan appears to be stricken with silence. His brother quickly fills in for him~
Jonathan: As we said last week out in the ring, we are looking forward to… to… Nathan, what is up with you, man?!
~Jonathan clicks his fingers in front of Nathan’s face. Nathan shakes his head and apologizes before Jonathan continues~
Jonathan: *Ahem*. We’re looking forward to our match with the team of Deluxxx. They seem like fun guys.
Who’re: Mushrooms? They do porn, I’m not sure about drugs though.
Jonathan: No. Nononono… ‘Fun guys’. People that like to have a good time.
Who’re: Oh, sorry. Well, that’s certainly true…well good luck out there, fellas.
Jonathan: Thank-you.
Nathan: Yeah… thanks.
~Who’re walks away and Nathan looks in her direction~
Jonathan: The hell was that?!
~Nathan looks sheepishly at his bro, and grows red~
Nathan: Bro… She’s cute!
~The camera cuts away. We return to the ringside area~
Smith: Endearing dynamic between the twins.
Hood: He called the whore cute…
Smith: Well, she is cute…and her name is…ugh, nevermind.
Hood: Wearing you down week by week.
Smith: The Dravers Boys have an important match coming up in moments, but first it’s triple threat action between two newcomers and a returning OCW star looking for redemption. Let’s head down to ringside.
”The Demon” Lance Savage (0-0) vs. “The Welsh Dragon” Dan White (0-0) vs. Truda (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Triple Threat contest scheduled for one fall!
~”Underground” by Evermore begins to play and the fans see “Boo” on the Tron and begin to boo Lance Savage. He takes his time in getting to the ring, ascends the steps, enters through the ropes and heads to a corner~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Parts Unknown…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 250lbs…”The Demon” Lance Savage!!
~ ”Anarchy in the UK” by The Sex Pistols hits, and White walks confidently through the dry ice that fills up the entrance. He walks with a strut as he embraces the crowd at ringside. He enters the ring, where he warms up at the ropes, and climbs a turnbuckle, throwing his arms in the air and beating this chest. He may do that on one or two of the other turnbuckles, before jumping down and preparing for a fight~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from Cardiff, Wales…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 254lbs…”The Welsh Dragon” Dan White!!!
~”Tibetan Chanting” encompasses the arena as a sort of calm overcomes the crowd. They watch, with respect, as Truda emerges from behind the curtain. He carefully takes a dignified stroll up to the ring. He walks the steps. He enters and leans against the ropes, eyeing his two opponents~
Belvedere: And the third and final participant…from Tibet. Standing 6’4 and weighing in at 198lbs…Truda!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring. White is in one corner. Savage is in another. Truda leans back against the ropes as all three competitors appear ready for the match~
Smith: Interesting match this evening, Hood. Lance Savage competed in OCW back in 2014 but not for very long. The entire scope of his repertoire, I believe, has yet to reveal itself.
Hood: Riveting
Smith: Dan White is a newcomer from Wales who is looking to make a great first impression. It should be interesting to see if he can win his debut match.
Hood: Tremendous
Smith: And, there’s Truda. The most mysterious man OCW has signed in quite some time. Nobody knows what to expect from him.
Hood: Can’t wait
Smith: Could you at least PRETEND to be listening to me
Hood: No, because then you’d keep talking. I just want to see these three beat the hell out of each other.
~White and Savage look at one another. It seems as though they communicate a message and, together, charge at Truda. They look to clothesline him to the outside. Trude ducks their attempt, while doing so, grabs the nearest leg of each man and flips them over the top rope, tumbling to the outside!! Savage and White hit hard. They get up, fairly quickly. Truda clutches the top rope and propels him over with a plancha, landing on both men, taking them down! “Clap” appears on the Tron, so the fans clap as Truda heads back into the ring. Scruff administers a count. He stares at his hand with each additional number, making sure he doesn’t lose track~
Smith: Certain things boggle my mind, Hood. Like, for instance, all this new equipment, this new arena and, yet…we still have a homeless man who can barely count as our referee.
Hood: Does it boggle your mind or does it BOTTLE your mind?
Smith: Why do I ever ask you any pertinent questions?
Hood: Because your wife left you and you’re now all alone with nobody to talk to.
~A slight whimper is heard over the airwaves as Smith is, apparently, not quite over his estranged wife. Meanwhile, Scruff gets to seven and has a hard time figuring out what the third finger on his second hand stands for. The Tibetan man who speaks little English yells “EIGHT!”. It is the first moment in Truda’s career where he breaks composure. Scruff thanks him and yells “ATE!” Savage is up first. He rolls into the ring, breaking the count. Truda kicks him in the gut and whips him across the ring. Savage bounces off and Truda drops him to the mat with a light spear. Truda returns to his feet. When he turns around, he is met with a big boot from White! Both Truda and Savage are on the ground as White stands over them~
Hood: Why are you whimpering? Man, it’s been years!
Smith: True love isn’t conscious of time, Hood. It transcends it…
Hood: What the fuck ever. I don’t know how you could ever love a person who made you not only watch but READ Nicholas Stark.
Smith: Sparks!
Hood: Sorry, binged last season’s Game of Thrones. But, since you bring it up, that fucker would have made a pretty good Stark…a soft hearted, easy to kill moron.
~White pulls Truda to his feet and whips him into the corner. Truda stumbles and crouches down. He flips over the top turnbuckle and finds himself seated atop it, staring out at the crowd. White hustles over and shoves Truda. Truda tumbles from the top precipitously, landing harshly on the outside floor. He clutches his left shoulder. White turns around and gets a thumb into the eye from Savage. Scruff is busy staring off into the lights, for some reason. Savage rakes White’s eyes. He wraps his arms around the body of White and drops him into the center of the ring with a belly-to-bely suplex~
Smith: Why is Scruff staring into the lights? He misses everything!
Hood: He sees the light, Smith! Maybe it’s an epiphany. Maybe he’s envisioning a life beyond the streets. Or, maybe he has the attention span of a fly…could be either.
Smith: Jeff Goldblum might take offense to that statement…
Hood: What does Earth Girls Are Easy have to do with this?
~Savage backs into a corner. He climbs to the middle rope and measures White up for an elbow. He jumps off. White rolls out of the way. Savage jams his elbow into the mat and clutches it with pain. White spins around and kicks Savage in the face while on his side! Savage falls onto his back. White goes for a pin, Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: He tried to steal one there
Hood: What’s a Welsh Dragon?
Smith: How should I know?
Hood: Just curious…is it a Dragon that likes fruit snacks?
Smith: No…if I had to guess, I’d say it’s a Dragon from Wales.
Hood: Whales give birth to Dragons? That makes no sense! You see, this is why I never read any of that King Arthur crap.
~White pushes up to his feet and backs against the ropes, waiting for Savage to get to his feet. Savage does and White rushes in for a knee. Savage dodges the flying knee. White stumbles into the ropes. He turns around and Savage picks him up and drills White into the center of the ring with a spinebuster~
Smith: Lance Savage is back in control on Dan White.
Hood: Dan White is a pretty terrible name.
Smith: A man can’t help what his parents name him.
Hood: Sure he can…there’s always the court where you can legally change your name. You think I was always named Hood?
Smith: It never occurred to me that Hood wasn’t your natural name.
Hood: Nope, I was named something much lamer. I mean, not as lame as Dan White, obviously…but still, pretty lame.
Smith: What was it?
Hood: A story for another time that will never come to pass.
~Savage climbs to the middle buckle and locks his hands. He appears ready to deliver a double axe handle. Truda hops onto the apron and he gives Savage a shove. Savage falls, landing on his back. Truda ascends to the top. White and Savage get to their feet and Truda leaps off with a cross body!! He connects and pins both men~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Both men kicked out! Truda looking for a dominant victory in this triple threat.
Hood: He must like Doublemint gum.
Smith: Perhaps, it is rather tasty.
Hood: I’m a Big Red fan, myself.
Smith: What about Juicy Fruit?
Hood: Do I look fifteen to you?
~Truda hurries back to his feet and he poises himself in a corner, looking for a spear. Savage and White stumble to their feet. Truda sprints out, trying to spear both men. Instead, he bullies them back into the opposite corner. Savage and White slam forearms into the back of Truda. Truda’s legs weaken. Then pick him up and powerbomb him into the center of the ring, working together. White then goes for a clothesline on Savage. Savage ducks it, leans on the ropes, bounces off and gives White a big boot as he turns around~
Smith: BIG boot from Lance Savage…he thwacked White right on the chin.
Hood: Does White remind you of Not President Dean?
Smith: You know, he does kind of look like him.
Hood: Strange…I wonder what Not President Dean is up to these days…
Smith: Probably living in Not President Dean’s house and driving Not President Dean’s car.
~Savage picks White up…White headbutts Savage. White scoops Savage up and goes for a Tombstone! Truda pops to his feet. He superkicks White! The momentum sends Savage over the top of White’s head, holding onto White’s midsection. It basically flips the positioning with Savage holding White for a tombstone. Truda tries to superkick Savage. Savage uses White as a weapon, crouching and jerking White’s legs at Truda, nailing him in the head. Truda flies through the ropes, landing harshly on the outside. Savage refocuses…gets into position and drills White, head first, into the mat with a Tombstone! Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings and Savage has his hand raised in victory~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…”THE DEMON” LANCE SAVAGE!!!!!
Smith: Lance Savage…the man with the most experience has emerged victorious in this triple threat!
Hood: Yes and he pinned the man with the lamest name.
Smith: Truda averted the pin so, a person has to ask the question…how would Truda fair one on one against Savage?
Hood: I don’t know, considering Lance Savage used their opponent to smack Truda around…probably not well.
Smith: Hard to argue…
Hood: I do have to say, tonight is improving. I'm no Lance Savage fan, do not label me that or anything...just saying, after how the night started with that ridiculous announcement from The Sunshine State...
Smith: Good lord, man, that's not Japan either.
Hood: It's not? Damn, sounds so familiar.
Smith: That's because it's the Florida slogan.
Hood: Ha, so it is! Anyway, now that we've moved away from the ridiculousness of earlier, I feel more relaxed and eager for the rest of the evening to unfold.
Smith: Wait, what is this? I’m being told we have an update on Alice Knight’s progress!
Hood: What?! Please tell me she boarded the wrong plane and wound up in Iceland.
Smith: There’s only one way to find out!
Hood: Ugh, my stress is rising...I'm going to stroke out, I'm telling you.
Smith: Just relax.
~We cut to a shot of Alice crushed between two enormous Japanese women mid flight. She seems to be filming the scene using her phone~
Alice Knight: So to my left is Aiko and to my right is Maki. These lovely ladies have been entertaining me all trip with their loud snoring, flatulence and nonstop gibberish speaking. They also didn't like my impersonation of Ken Watanabe if he ordered Pork Balls and Rice. No one on the plane liked that impression. Some could say it was even 'racist'... but anyway if you haven't guessed it, you might have a mental disability but we're on our way to Key West, Florida as we speak. And i'm ready to kick some butt. So... see you all soon.
~Alice tries to get comfortable in the middle of the obese ladies. We cut backstage where Coe is zipping up his bag. Hill has his arms folded, shaking his head at the screen~
Tatum Coe: I’m out of here.
Irvin Hill: I’m right behind ya. This is insane.
Tatum Coe: I mean they could have at least booked us tonight. Not to sound arrogant, but I’m the biggest star this company has. But, instead, they’d rather show Alice Knight sitting between two fat women aboard an airplane.
Irvin Hill: Ridiculous
~Coe exits, carrying his bag over his shoulder. Hill picks up his bag and follows behind. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Alice Knight is in the air!
Hood: Why the hell isn’t her phone on AIRPLANE Mode? She’s endangering the lives of all those passengers!
Smith: Oh be quiet…Airplane Mode is more a precaution.
Hood: Psshaw….this woman is a menace, Smith. First she date rapes both of those giant women so she could have something to complain about…or maybe it was out of rage because they didn’t laugh at her impersonation…it could be anything with that girl…and then she tries to kill everyone aboard that plane by recklessly using her cell phone. Women AND children, Smith! She’s attempting to murder them all!
Smith: Calm down, would you? She’s not the evil person you’re painting her to be.
Hood: Not all evil, I guess. At least she got their names before doling out the fucking roofies. Or…maybe she made those names up. I wouldn’t put it past her. And how did she get a phone, anyway? Did she steal it from one of those poor ladies?
Smith: Stop it. The good news is she’s en route to Key West which means this match will definitely be taking place next week.
Hood: The real victims here are Tatum Coe and Irvin Hill.
Smith: One more week isn’t going to hurt anybody.
Hood: They’re being screwed, I tell ya! Screwed!
Smith: Hey, at least they have time to prepare for the sudden addition.
Hood: I guess that’s true…
Smith: Anyway, folks, it’s time we move on to our next match this evening. It’s the debut of tag team wrestling in OCW 2017 as The Dravers Boys takes on Deluxxx! Let’s head down to ringside.
Deluxxx (0-0) vs. The Dravers Boys (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Tag Team match scheduled for one fall…introducing first…
~”Circus for a Psycho” by Skillet hits and ‘Cheer’ displays on the Tron. The fans go wild as Nathan and Jonathan Dravers appear at the top of the ramp and hustle down to the ring. While on the way to the ring, they can be seen singing the words to their song. Inside the ring, they acknowledge the crowd and show appreciation for the reaction~
Belvedere: From Denver, Colorado…at a total combined weight of 400lbs…Nathan Dravers, Jonathan Dravers…The Dravers Boys!!
~Their music comes to an end. “Bad Touch” by The Bloodhound Gang begins and the fans see nothing on the screen. So, their reaction is mixed. Some cheer the strange duo. Others boo them, siding with the Dravers. Regardless, Depth appears at the top of the stage and stares out into the crowd with an arrogant expression. Shootah sheepishly appears behind him, still scarred a bit from last week’s debut. Depth grabs him by the arm and drags him down the ramp, near the ring. He hurls Shootah into the ring under the bottom rope and rolls in behind him~
Belvedere: And their opponents, at a total combined weight of 410lbs…Deluxxx!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring. Depth motions for Shootah to start the match while Nathan Dravers high fives his brother, Jonathan, who steps through the ropes. Nathan heads for the middle of the ring and bounces with energy awaiting a member of Deluxxx. Shootah drops to his knees and pleads with Depth~
Smith: I don’t think Shootah wants to start this match.
Hood: On the contrary, I think the narcissistic Depth has demanded he start the match and Shootah is begging Depth to step from the spotlight for a moment and allow him to compete.
Smith: Yea, I’m not seeing that scenario at all.
~Depth pulls Shootah up by the shoulders and yells at him. He slaps Shootah across the face, as an attention getter. Shootah nearly falls out of the ring, through the ropes. Depth throws his head back and rolls his eyes. He kicks Shootah in the shoulder. Shootah tumbles through the ropes, landing on the outside. Depth shakes his head and turns around, facing Nathan. The bell rings~
Smith: Somebody might want to check on Shootah
Hood: Is that Depth’s finisher, The Slap of Disgust?
Smith: Wouldn’t surprise me, but, according to my stat sheet here its called Rough Cut, his version of a Diamond Cutter.
Hood: Man, those stat sheets take all the fun out of announcing
~Depth and Nathan lock up in the middle of the ring. Nathan shoots Depth into the ropes, Depth bounces off and Nathan drops to the mat. Depth hops over him and hits the ropes a second time, Nathan jumps to his feet and goes for a hip toss. Depth blocks the hip toss and jabs Nathan in the eye with his thumb. Scruff didn’t see it because, well, Scruff never sees anything. Depth turns Nathan around, lifts him up and drops him across his knee with an Atomic Drop!! Nathan stumbles forward and spills to the outside, next to Shootah~
Smith: John E Depth, cheating as usual.
Hood: If you can’t trust a low grade porn film maker, then who can you trust?
~Shootah makes it to his feet. He looks down and is surprised to find Nathan. Depth leans over the top rope and yells at Shootah to do something. Scruff gets an earful from Jonathan. Scruff walks over to talk with Depth. Depth turns Scruff around, pointing the ref’s back at Shootah. While he’s talking with Scruff he tries to sign some language at Shootah to hurt Nathan. Shootah gets to his feet and looks down at Nathan, who is on all fours, shaking his head. Shootah kicks Nathan in the head. Depth gives him a thumbs up. He then points for more. Shootah kicks Nathan in the shoulder, Nathan loses his balance and slams that shoulder into the ground. Depth gives him two thumbs up and points for more. Shootah takes a few steps back and rushes for a soccer style kick. Nathan, back on all fours, rolls out of the way! Shootah’s leg goes flying, sending the man into the air and landing on the back of his head and neck! Depth’s two thumbs up and promptly turn downward. Nathan gets to his feet and he rolls back in the ring. Depth points at Nathan and looks at Scruff as though to say nothing illegal was going on~
Smith: This tag team is the worst.
Hood: Hey, rumor has it if they win, they will be in a Tag Title Match
Smith: If there is any justice in this world, The Dravers Boys will pull this one out.
Hood: By the way, do you think Shootah had to pass any tests to get a license to wrestle?
Smith: I doubt there are licenses to wrestle, Hood. Look at Bifford, no way he’d get passed. But, if there were, I’d say…no.
~Nathan reaches his feet and he drills Depth in his bearded chin with a forearm. Depth falls into a nearby corner. Nathan drills him in the midsection with several knees, knocking all of the wind out of Depth. He whips Depth across the ring, Depth runs front first into the opposing corner. While staggering out, Nathan hooks him around the waist and drills him into the mat with a Snap German Suplex! Nathan hops to his feet and the crowd gives him a great ovation~
Smith: Finally, some wrestling! This kid can go!
Hood: How is Shootah doing? Is he okay? I’m worried about that star in the making
Smith: Would you forget about the weakest member on the roster for a second and focus on the real talent inside the ring.
Hood: As a man with a slight frame and no fighting experience…I take offense to that.
~Nathan heads over to Jonathan and tags him in. Nathan grabs Depth and knees him in the gut. Jonathan joins the fray and they hook Depth and, together, lift him in the air and drop him with a double brainbuster!! Depth sits up, instinctively before collapsing onto his side. Nathan hustles out of the ring and Jonathan goes for the pin. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Kick out by John E Depth
Hood: He’s digging deep!
Smith: Stop it
Hood: What? I’m just saying he’s a hard guy to keep down…probably the hardest member of the team.
Smith: THAT’S ENOUGH
~Shootah is leaning against the ring apron on the outside, taking a breath. Jonathan picks Depth up and whips him into the ropes. Depth bounces off and Jonathan leaps into the air with a dropkick, nailing Depth right on the chin! Depth hits the mat, hard. Shootah climbs onto the apron. He is seated with his back against the ropes. His elbow is hanging over the middle rope with his hang dangling inside the ring. Jonathan whips Depth into the ropes again, he ducks and lifts Depth into the air with a back body drop!! Depth flies semi-diagonally and lands near Shootah. Depth’s shoulder touches Shootah’s hand. Scruff signals that a tag has been made~
Smith: Uh oh, Shootah has to compete now.
Hood: Oh man and that guy got his ass kicked when he wasn’t the legal man. He’s totally fucked now.
Smith: Is that another porn pun?
Hood: No, that was my best shot at honest commentary
Smith: You’re hopeless
~Scruff taps Shootah on the shoulder. Shootah is confused. Depth rolls out of the ring, falling to the floor, near unconscious. Shootah puts two and two together. He holds his hands up and pleads with Scruff. Scruff walks away, disinterested. Jonathan grabs Shootah by the hair and pulls him between the top and bottom rope. Shootah’s feet get caught up on the middle rope. Jonathan double under hooks Shootah, yanks him through the ropes and drops him with a Double Under hook Suplex. Shootah arches his back in pain~
Smith: And so it begins
Hood: They don’t call this show Massacre for nothing.
Smith: Indeed.
~Jonathan tags Nathan in. Jonathan picks Shootah up and whips him into the ropes. Shootah nearly trips over his own feet. He hits the ropes, bounces off and Jonathan lifts him up for a flapjack. As he brings Shootah down, Nathan jumps in the air and kicks Shootah in the face!! Shootah goes limp. Jonathan exits and Nathan makes the cover. Scruff counts~
1!
2!
Break Up!!
Smith: Depth just pulled Nathan out of the ring before the three! That’s cheating, they should be disqualified!
Hood: I think Nathan was having an asthma attack and Depth was trying to see if he was okay, pulling him out of the ring to check on him.
~Depth jabs Nathan in the throat, while the two are on the outside~
Hood: See? Look how Nathan is struggling to breathe.
Smith: That’s because Depth hit him in the throat!
Hood: You really have it out for John E Depth, don’t you?
~Jonathan hops from the mat and hustles around the ring. He pulls Depth away from his brother and the two begin to brawl. Nathan coughs several times. His face goes from red, back to its normal color. He climbs onto the apron. Depth goes to whip Jonathan into the barricade. Jonathan reverses and Depth runs toward Nathan. Nathan, while on the apron, kicks Depth in the face!! Depth falls, the back of his head snaps back against the floor. Jonathan heads back to his corner while Nathan re-enters the ring~
Hood: Good deeds get you nowhere, Smith.
Smith: This doesn’t bode well for Deluxxx. Depth is out of it. The fate of their contendership lies in the grasp of Shootah.
Hood: And his hands are covered in KY jelly.
Smith: Eww
~Nathan tags Jonathan into the match. Shootah is on his knees, dazed. Nathan stands on one side of Shootah. Jonathan takes the other. They share a look and charge in on Shootah with a Double Superkicks!! Shootah’s head is squeezed between the simultaneous impact and he falls forward, unconscious. Jonathan covers Shootah as Nathan counts along with the ref and the crowd~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings as The Dravers Boys get their arms raised in victory~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE DRAVERS BOYS!!!!!
Smith: Impressive debut by The Dravers Boys!
Hood: Unfair, if you ask me. Putting twins together in a tag team? There has to be a law against that.
Smith: Are you referring to TWIN POWER?
Hood: What the fuck is Twin Power?
Smith: The power of twins.
Hood: Sounds awful to me. Twins are only good in certain situations…like when you want to fake your own death or…
Smith: Fake your own death?
Hood: Yea, you know, you kill your twin, pretend it’s you and see how many people show up to the funeral.
Smith: That might be the worst thing you’ve ever uttered on this show.
Hood: Twins are also good in super dirty adult videos. Just ask John E Depth
Smith: I won’t, thank you very much.
~Nathan hops over the top rope and toward the announce desk~
Hood: Whoa, get these nefarious twins away from me! Killing each other for their own sick gratification!
Smith: That was YOUR idea, not theirs.
~Nathan reaches for a box near the table. He unearths a black t-shirt, then a white one. He tosses the white to Jonathan, who is inside the ring. Nathan slides in and they put the shirts on. On the front, they simply read ‘The Dravers Boys’…the back states ‘Mess with us, you’ll be seeing Double’. They ascend to the top of their respective corners and warm the crowd up while pointing toward their shirts~
Smith: They certainly know how to market, don’t they?
Hood: Greedy mother fuckers
Smith: Hey, don\'t begrudge a man for trying to make a little extra cash
Hood: True, you gotta hustle if you wanna make a dollar. Seems as though someone like Shootah might know that
Smith: Look, he did...well, you know, he tri...err, he...
Hood: Go on...
Smith: Okay, look, I've got nothing. Shootah is a horrible professional wrestler
Hood: Bingo!
Smith: Be that as it may...everyone deserves a shot in OCW. But...I'd like to focus on the positives. Like tonight, for instance...it's been a great night thus far…OCW is truly back.
Hood: Back in black!
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Oh, sorry, was reminiscing on when [blank] ran things.
Smith: Get serious for a moment
~Hood hums the popular song as Smith receives more news via his headset. His eyes pop~
Smith: What? You…surely you can’t be serious
Hood: I am serious, and don’t call me Shirley.
~Smith elbows Hood to shut up. He finishes receiving his bulletin and addresses the audience~
Smith: it appears as though Alice has landed…
Hood: What? Where, next to Amelia Earhart?
Smith: No.
Hood: Damn
Smith: She’s…apparently in town…let’s roll the footage.
Alice Knight: Okay folks. We've landed after a long flight. But i'm on my way to Massacre. That i promise you. Number 1 was to sign the contract, number 2 was to fly here, and it should lead up to 8 or 10 more steps. And you know what ten is? Ten-nis. Tennis anyone? I mean i can't even get a court if it's a holiday weekend, am i right? Anyway, Hill... Coe... i'm on my way...
~Alice jumps into a cab as it drives off~
~We cut to a shot of a local motel. A member of OCW security is knocking on the door. Irvin Hill answers wearing boxers and smoking a cigarette. His mouth falls open. The cigarette falls to the ground and hits his bare foot. He jumps up and down, yelping~
~We then cut to a private air strip. Coe, dressed in a sweater and slacks, is about to board a private plane. An OCW Security member rushes to him. We overhear part of the conversation~
OCW Security: She’s here, in Key West
Tatum Coe: What the heck kind of plane was she on?
OCW Security: I don’t know
Tatum Coe: Did she say anything else?
OCW Security: Aside from the fact that she’s heading to Massacre…not much. She did talk about playing tennis.
~Coe scowls. He pulls a tennis racket from his bag and breaks it in half across his knee. He says ‘wretched game’ and heads back to his car. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: it’s true, she’s here! The match is happening TONIGHT
Hood: Ugh, are you serious? How in the hell did she get here so fast? Is she an alien?
Smith: I don’t think she’s an alien, Hood. I just think luck is on her side.
Hood: And what’s with those cab drivers. Do you know that whenever I’m at the airport those guys drive like maniacs? I nearly got clipped once, trying to flag one down. Why didn’t a cab accidently run her over? Why is luck so one sided!
Smith: Maybe the cab will run out of gas? I don’t know what to tell ya, Hood. But it appears that match is happening, tonight.
Hood: Don’t get my hopes up. That cab won’t run out of gas.
Smith: Heck, she may beat Hill and Coe to the arena.
Hood: Typical woman…just about the time these men are ready to call it a day, she drags them back to work. I hope she reimburses Coe for that tennis racket.
Smith: That’s kind of sexist.
Hood: Yea, well blow me
Smith: And on that note...
~"Smart Went Crazy" by Atmosphere begins to play as the arena lights darken and the OCW Champion makes his way to the ring, wearing ripped up jeans and a hoodie, Our champion has little to no fashion sense or class. He drags the OCW title behind him. The one in his possession is apparently a meaningless one. Grenier climbs into the ring and demands a microphone. He is given one. He takes down his hood and the people explode~
Bob: Jimmy Buffet.. [bleep] you.
~Grenier has whipped the crowd into a confused frenzy. A section begins to chant "[bleep] You Buffet" over and over~
Smith: That's going to cost him folks.
Hood: Cost him what? Grenier was robbed and I'm sure he's about to tell us why.
~The group still chants "[bleep] You Buffet". The people around them part. The faceless men rush in, quicker than we’ve seen them move before. They confiscate the fans and remove them, effortlessly from the arena. The chant is dead. Grenier doesn’t pay it much attention, remaining focused on the task that is set before him~
Bob: Fuck Dean, [bleep] OCW management. Eastern European, [bleep] You. [bleep] the ticket takers and the concession staff. Fuck PerZag and Ian Bishop, You know.. Fuck the whole locker room. Fuck Hood, and Fuck Smith…
Smith: Now that's just uncalled for.
Hood: For once I agree with you. What did I do? He's the champ though so l'll let it slide.
~The people are nervous. They want to cheer this man but know they can’t. There is a restless murmur filling the arena~
Bob: Now that that's out of the way..
~Grenier throws down the OCW title and demands a chair~
Bob: I tried to pawn that piece of garbage when I was broke, $50 bucks was all I could get for that worthless thing.
~The crowd now chants "Pawn The Title" a rather loud volume as Grenier takes a seat in the middle of the ring. He picks up the title and produces a can of spray paint.. Spraying "BG" on it in black paint. He throws it out of the ring~
Bob: That's the one held by all the greats.. Scott Syren, Lurrr, Me.. But I don't matter right? Feel free to pass it around, take pictures, Spit on it, Piss on it. It's worthless if I'm not mistaken. Worthless but she's mine, so make sure I get her back.
Smith: Grenier seems a bit capricious this evening
Hood: Nah man, he’s just a human. You know how people are…even if you think what they own is shit…to them, it’s still their stuff. That’s what George Carlin taught me, anyway.
~A fan grabs the title and people begin taking pictures with it, spitting on it and drawing on the OCW Title with sharpies~
Bob: You people are excellent, and this is really why I keep doing this. I've risked my life, my limbs and my sanity for this company. I've done things in this ring I'm not proud of, I've done things In this ring I am proud of. Winning the OCW Title was one of them. You think that when we came back, and yes I still say we as if OCW and I are still family..
~The crowd has grown silent and are hanging on the champions every word~
Smith: For these watching at home.. This just got real.
Bob: You'd think that the champion would be the first to get a phone call.. You'd think that during that time they would wanna take care of the Champion and make sure he doesn't go broke. Then I do come back and start hearing about the amount of money on some of these 10 Year, Iron Clad, Grandfathered contracts that the other guys have, None of whom possess the talent I do. Where was my money? Why was I offered so much less than Lurrr or Vargas or Awe.Some? We can talk about this person was in charge or that person was in charge, Different ownership but the fact of the matter is this, I got shafted, Guess the perception is that Ol Grenier works cheap eh? They didn’t think ole Bobby G was worth it. The old regime didn’t think I was worth a champion’s salary and the new regime didn’t think I was worth a phone call.
~Carefully, the crowd shows a hint of support toward the former champion~
Bob: Buffet.. You hear that shit? Even though you’ve reduced these people to crickets, they can still make a sound if you listen. I'm the Champion and they love it. So here is what is going to happen in a few seconds.. I'm going to wrestle Vortex and Reid in a triple threat match, I'm going to dismantle them and move on in this stupid tournament for my title. I don't care who I hurt. If anyone fucks with me, whether that be wrestler or company staff.. I will severely injure you. I will only talk to Buffet and that is when I sign my brand new, Iron Clad, 20 year deal with OCW that is worth my actual market value. I want hotel and airfare paid for and a real title. Until then, This company can bite me, I'm about the fans because you people know what it is you want to see, There is a lot of great talent here but I am at the very top of the food chain, I am the blood that pumps through the veins of this company and I am severely disappointed in the powers that be.
~Grenier drops the Mic and waves toward the front row. Larry the Superfan tries to toss him the desecrated title. Larry the Superfan has the strength of a weak Shootah, so the title barely reaches the first ring step. Grenier slides out of the ring, grabs the dirtied title and positions it in his corner. He climbs back into the ring, works his arms back and forth, loosens up and stares at the entrance way, ready for his tournament match~
First Round
Bob Grenier (1-0) vs. Reid (1-0) vs. Vortex (1-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Triple Threat Match scheduled for one fall and is a first round match in the OCW Title Tournament! Already in the ring, standing 6'2 and weighing in at 222lbs...from Timmins, Ontario, Canada...he is the former...and I'm told to stress FORMER...OCW Champion...Bob Grenier! And his opponents...
~”Rock Superstar” by Cypress Hill hits. “Cheer” flashes and the fans give Reid a huge ovation. He marches straight for the ring with a scowl on his face. The man is all business tonight~
Belvedere: First, from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’9 and weighing in at 315lbs…Reid!!!
~”Respect the Wind” by Van Halen hits. Vortex emerges, sans Debris. He rubs his face after the blow he received earlier from Rebel. “Cheer” remains on the Tron, so the fans do as instructed with Larry the Superfan leading the chants. Vortex reaches the ring, but remains on the outside, staring up and in at Reid~
Belvedere: And from a Motel along Tornado Alley…standing a reported 6’2 and weighing in at a suggested weight of 250lbs…Vortex!!
~An OCW Security Member grabs at his ear piece. He leans to the left, slightly. He nods and heads for the ring. He waves Scruff over and whispers into Scruff’s right ear. Scruff nods and steps back into the ring, he calls for the bell~
Smith: What was that?!
Hood: Rumor has it Scruff couldn’t find his Chicken Alfredo in the fridge this afternoon and declared it stolen. I’m assuming they found it.
Smith: Seriously? You expect me to believe that?
Hood: Yea, sorry, it was a horrible lie. We all know Scruff can’t afford Chicken Alfredo.
~Vortex rushes near Grenier and corrals his feet. Reid shuffles in, like a boxer would. Grenier finds himself stuck, like quicksand. Reid drills Grenier with a left, then a right. Grenier’s knees buckle and he falls through the ropes, landing harshly on the outside. Vortex kicks away at the body of Grenier. Reid hops through the ropes and walks over to Larry the Superfan. He hands Reid his chair. Reid takes the chair and slams it into the head of Grenier, sandwiching Grenier’s head between the chair and ground. Grenier spasms. Vortex hops on the apron and comes off with a double foot stomp onto the head of Grenier! Blood rises out of the inside of Grenier’s right ear, which is facing upward. Reid tosses the chair aside and rolls into the ring. Vortex hops into the ring behind him and the two circle each other~
Smith: Hold on…that seemed awfully choreographed, as though it were planned.
Hood: How about that chivalrous young man, giving his chair over to an elder. I originally didn’t like Larry, but he’s growing on me.
Smith: Yea, well…I better just keep my mouth shut.
Hood: Now you’re talking!
~Reid throws a overhanded right. Vortex ducks it and crawls between Reid’s legs. Reid turns around. Vortex pops to his feet and he jumps in the air, nailing Reid with a knee to the chin. Reid staggers back. Vortex runs into the ropes, he hops on the middle rope with his back to Reid. He leaps into the air and twisting into a cross body. Reid catches him. He positions Vortex and drills him into the mat with a bodyslam. Reid then goes to his knees and mounts Vortex, looking to rain down some fists~
Hood: Why didn’t he just pin the guy?
Smith: Because of his MMA training, Hood.
Hood: Oh fuck that shit. He’s obviously an awful MMA fighter. Just beat up the man half your size, it isn’t that fucking complicated.
Smith: It isn’t that simple, either.
~Reid throws a right hand, Vortex dodges it. Reid responds with a left hand, Vortex dodges that. Reid tries a right elbow, Vortex dodges that. Reid tries a left elbow, Vortex dodges that. Reid yells, “FUCK!” and dives in for a headbutt. Vortex dodges it and Reid’s forehead slams into the mat. Vortex rolls out from under the big man and hops onto the middle turnbuckle. He jumps off and drops a leg across the back of Reid’s neck, jamming his face back into the mat~
Hood: He really is a shitty MMA fighter.
Smith: He’s still learning, plus Vortex is a storm chaser. He has to be adept at dodging danger.
Hood: Have you actually WATCHED any of their videos? The only funnels they encounter are cakes.
~The crowd stirs. Grenier is moving on the outside. Not much, but it’s apparent he isn’t dead – which is good news for the Grenier family. Vortex steadily heads for another corner. Reid is on all fours, recovering. Vortex ascends to the top this time. A hand reaches up on the apron, there’s a smear of blood across it. Grenier’s face appears. He’s obviously concussed and not fully aware. But, his instincts take over. He crawls onto the apron, reaches up and shoves Vortex off the top rope!! Vortex somersaults and lands on his back!! He arches it in pain. Grenier falls onto the apron and stares at the ceiling. Scruff pats Reid on the back and points at Vortex. Reid goes for the pin. Scruff administers a quicker count than usual~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Hood: Scruff was trying to SCREW Vortex!
Smith: Umm, no
Hood: Yes he was, open your eyes, man!
Smith: Well, I guess technically you’re correct. I just think Grenier seems to be the man that is most…
Hood: What, why’d you stop?
Smith: No reason
~Reid grabs Vortex’s head like he would a basketball, both hands wrapped around the sides. He slams the back of his head repeatedly into the canvass. Vortex kicks his legs but is unable to break free. Grenier pulls himself up on the apron. He’s wobbly, groggy – out on his feet. Reid gets to his feet and notices Grenier teetering. He charges in. Grenier falls, holding onto the top rope. He pulls it down and Reid flips over the top and lands roughly on the outside. He grabs his left knee and motions toward OCW management~
Smith: Uh oh, I think Reid may have damaged his knee
Hood: I don’t know…seems to me that he realized that if he can’t pin Vortex with the help of a quick count, he might as well fake an injury.
Smith: Yea, right
~Grenier rolls in under the bottom rope. Vortex is slow to his feet. But, he beats Grenier. Vortex sprints at Grenier and stretches out with a baseball slide kick into the side of Grenier’s head! Grenier’s body hits the bottom rope, roughly. Vortex gets to his feet and he drags Grenier into the center of the ring~
Smith: What we’re seeing is a fraction of the man known as Grenier…such a shame.
Hood: A fraction? He looks all there to me. Got both arms, both legs. Both eyes, I think.
Smith: Well, he’s not wearing an eye patch, if that’s what you’re referencing.
Hood: Fucking Lance Savage…I would have never considered a one eyed wrestler…then that guy shows up.
~Reid hobbles onto the apron. Vortex spots him and walks over, kicking him in the injured knee. Reid falls back to the floor, clutching the knee. Vortex laughs and heads back for Grenier. He pulls Grenier up and knees him in gut. Grenier doubles over. Vortex grabs the back of Grenier’s head and pulls him up. He places his head under Grenier’s left arm and hooks Grenier’s waist~
Smith: What is he doing?
Hood: Giving Grenier a hug? Is he sorry for turning him into a retard?
Smith: Hey, that language is offensive these days…besides…now that I look at it, I think he’s going for a Northern Lights Suplex…it just looks weird, considering he’s half Grenier’s size.
Hood: What are you talking about? Vortex is 6’2 and 250lbs!
Smith: My left arm!
Hood: Holy shit, really? You roidin up?
Smith: Never!
~Vortex tries to lift Grenier, but finds it near impossible. Grenier elbows Vortex in the back of the neck. Vortex loses a lot of the use in his four limbs. Grenier lifts Vortex into a Front Chancery. He then heaves Vortex higher and drops him to the mat with a Muscle Buster!! The ring shakes. Grenier throws his arm over the chest of Vortex. Scruff looks around, confused~
Smith: What is he doing? Count, man! Count!
Hood: He’s forgotten how to count!
Smith: The sad thing is I find that semi-believable
~Scruff shrugs and drops to his knees. He administers a slow count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. “BOO!” hits the Tron. Larry the Superfan leads the fans in booing Grenier. Grenier is helped to his feet by Scruff who proceeds to raise his hand. Grenier is still concussed and has trouble standing. Reid is on the outside, being helped to his feet~
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance into the semi-finals of the OCW Title Tournament…BOB GRENIER!!!!!
Smith: I’m not sure how…but the former champ advanced.
Hood: I’ll tell you how…we’ve got a bunch of clowns wrestling in OCW, that’s how.
Smith: No argument from me…why Vortex tried a suplex is beyond my comprehension. He pretty much walked right into the Hollinger Park Hangover.
Hood: And Reid’s knees suck!
Smith: Knee
Hood: Scuse me?
Smith: He injured one knee, not both.
Hood: Yea, well give me a crowbar, hoodie, and some sketchy music and I’ll fix that.
Smith: Well, I guess it's a good thing my playlist is loaded with Katy Perry and Lady Gaga. Anyway...with Grenier's win, we have 3 of the four semi-finalists set. Let's take a look at the updated bracket!
Hood: You see that bracket?
Smith: Clear as can be, my friend
Hood: One of these things is NOT like the others.
Smith: I was never any good at those questions therefore I will not respond. Instead, I will simply state that this tournament has had more tosses and turns than...
Hood: A pay by the hour motel bed at 3 am.
Smith: Right. Well, folks...the night is winding down…which leaves one question unanswered…
Hood: The identity of DB Cooper?
Smith: Nope
Hood: Oh, so they’ve answered that one?
Smith: Questions pertaining to OCW, idiot. And, that question is…where, oh where is Alice Knight?
~We see Alice and the cab driver leaning on the cab with a VIRGINIA road sign behind them~
Alice Knight(breaking the silence): VIRGINIA!?!?! Akeem are you serious? Why the HECK are we in Virginia? I take one nap. Had a dream where i was picking blue berries with my Uncle Pete and i wake u and we end up HERE?!?!? Huh, Akeem?
Cab Driver: I've told you 100 times, my name is George... just because i'm east Indian doesn't mean...
Alice Knight(cutting him off): Akeem, George, Bloobity Blah Blah. I don't care. Are we lost? Just tell me are we lost?
George: Did you want to end up in Virginia?
Alice Knight: Um, no!
George: Then we may be lost.
Alice Knight: You know, i've seen alot of crappy cab drivers from movies. Like Robert DeNiro in Cabby Man. Or Jamie Foxx in Collater-RAY. But you have to be the worst of the worst.
~Alice looking into the camera~
Alice Knight: Okay gang. A little hick up on my way to the OCW Arena. But i'm a coming. Trust me...
~Alice pointing at the cab driver~
Alice Knight: BLOOBY! GET IN THE CAR!!
~They both get into the taxi as the scene fades. We see Coe and Hill looking disgusted. Coe throws an elbow pad at the ground~
Tatum Coe: Son of a bitch! I could have been halfway to the Bahamas by now.
Irvin Hill: Yea and I paid fifteen bucks for a PPV film I never got to finish.
~They kick and rant while changing back into their casual attire. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Well, I didn’t see that coming. Considering how quickly she made it from Japan to Key West, I thought her showing up would have been a no brainer.
Hood: Figures…Hill and Coe are fucked yet again.
Smith: I wonder how she wound up in Virginia anyway
Hood: She probably got her places mixed up. Told the driver Key West, Virginia or West Virginia, Virginia...I don’t know. I doubt it was the cab driver’s fault.
Smith: Huh?
Hood: The capital of Virginia.
Smith: Umm, no
Hood: Of course it is
Smith: No, it’s not. West Virginia is its OWN state
Hood: Seriously?
Smith: Yes
Hood: Why would someone make a West Virginia? Is Virginia that badass of a state that we needed another one?
Smith: I don’t know
Hood: And, yet, we only have one Las Vegas.
Smith: Let’s head down to ringside…for the love, man. You really need to brush up on your geography.
Hood: Nah, I hate rocks.
Semi-Final
PerZag (1-0) vs. Julio Lugo (1-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall and is a semi-final match in the OCW Title Tournament!
~”Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor starts to play. “BOO” hits the Tron. Larry the Superfan boos loudly, leading the charge as he’s done all night. The rest of the crowd follows along. A hooded figure walks on to the entrance ramp. The lights come back on as the hooded figure stands still on the stage. The hooded figure walks down to the ring slowly. He gets into the ring and stands in the center of it. He slowly removes the hood. 'Eye Of The Tiger' by Survivor stops playing as PerZag walks over to a corner in the ring and crouches down near it~
Belvedere: Introducing first…from Benalla, Australia…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 216lbs…PerZag!!!
~”Rock Superstar” by Cypress Hill hits. Despite his nasty nature, “Cheer” hits the Tron. The fans appears confused, but they tenuously cheer. Lugo isn’t faced by the contradictory reaction. He hits the ringside area and slides into the ring, displaying tremendous quickness. Javier Nunes remains on the outside, keeping a watchful eye~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Chihuahua, Mexico…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 205lbs…Julio Lugo!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Interesting reactions.
Hood: Yes, Lugo’s underdog efforts from a week ago made a positive impression on the fans. A true Cinderella story. And, of course, they are rightfully booing that scoundrel, PerZag.
Smith: Wow, you remembered his match from a week ago?
Hood: Sure do, I was streaming it on my phone during their entrances.
Smith: You ignored their entrances?!
Hood: Everybody does, I’m not sure why promotions even bother with them
Smith: Well I for one watch them…I enjoy them.
Hood: That’s because you’re a fuckin weirdo
~An OCW Security member approaches the ring. Scruff nods, knowing the drill. Lugo yells at PerZag. PerZag points at Lugo. Lugo rushes toward Zag. Zag runs at Lugo. Scruff extends his foot, tripping Zag. Zag stumbles. Lugo stops. Zag turns and walks toward Scruff with anger in his eyes. Nunes yells something in Spanish. Lugo charges and knees Zag in the kidney. Zag stumbles into the corner. He backs out and Lugo drills him in the back of the head with a superkick. Zag falls through the ropes in front of Nunes. Larry the Superfan extends a chair to Nunes~
Smith: How many chairs does that guy have?!
Hood: More than one, apparently.
Smith: I…I don’t know how much I can stand…
Hood: Shh..shh, quiet down, man. I mean, I don’t care if you get hauled off…but I sure as shit don’t want to be guilty by association.
Smith: Right, sorry…my lips are sealed.
~Nunes takes the chair and he waits for PerZag to get to his feet. He waffles PerZag over the head with the chair. PerZag falls hard, onto his back. Nunes jams the chair into his gut a few times before yelling to Lugo in Spanish. Lugo jumps over the top rope and lands safely on both feet. He picks Zag up and rolls him back in under the bottom rope. Larry the Superfan asks for the chair. Nunes unfolds it and takes a seat~
Smith: Well, that was kind of rude by Javier Nunes
Hood: Guy owns a restaurant. He’s been on his feet enough.
Smith: True, plus, it prevents Larry the Superfan from handing a cha…aww man, come on!
Hood: We evidently have a lot of chairs
~Larry is handed a fresh, new chair. Lugo is standing on the apron. PerZag stumbles to his feet. Lugo hops up and balances on the top rope…he leaps off and hooks his legs around the head of PerZag. He tosses PerZag across the ring with a Huricanrana! PerZag winces as Lugo jumps to his feet~
Smith: This is all Julio Lugo…the tremendous story of PerZag, which was chronicled earlier this week in the critically acclaimed journalistic series known as ‘News and Notes’ might reach a depressing end.
Hood: Critically acclaimed? It’s just news and notes!
Smith: Some critics have given it acclaim.
Hood: Critics of what…how to act like a secretary?
Smith: Do not diminish the good work done by secretaries all over the world!
Hood: Oh, I won’t…they star in some of my favorite films
Smith: THAT’S ENOUGH
~Lugo stomps on Zag for a few moments before dragging him into the middle of the ring. He backs into the ropes, leans into them, bounces off and drops a leg across the throat of PerZag. PerZag sits up and gets to his feet coughing. He staggers toward the ropes, the side where Javier Nunes is seated. Javier yells something in Spanish. Lugo rushes in for a clothesline. PerZag ducks and lifts Lugo over the top, outside the ring and crashing down into Javier Nunes!! Nunes clutches his right arm in pain from the fall as OCW Security checks on him~
Smith: Two birds, one stone…great awareness and instinct by the former Paradigm Champion.
Hood: What a cruel man. Javier owns a restaurant…he works with his hands! PerZag has just ruined his career. Poor, poor Javier Nunes…he’ll never roll a tortilla again.
Smith: Umm, Hood…they never specified what type of restaurant they owned. Nobody ever said he ran a Mexican restaurant.
Hood: Shit.
~Lugo gets up and stares at his manager, who appears to be severely injured. He pulls at his hair in anger and begins to hyperventilate. He turns to the ring. PerZag backs up and motions for Lugo to come at him. Lugo hops on the apron and jumps onto the top rope, balancing his weight. He leaps at PerZag…PerZag goes for a superkick. Lugo catches Zag’s leg and lands on his feet. Zag responds by drilling Lugo with a lariat~
Smith: PerZag has gained control of this one…the injury to Nunes has obviously stunned Lugo.
Hood: It’s tragic, ya know? How life can take a violent turn. I mean, look at George Michael…he’s all living life, being George Michaely and then, out of nowhere, wham.
Smith: ...
~Zag pulls Lugo to his feet and whips him into a corner. Zag charges in behind Lugo. Lugo stops and jumps, trying to avert the charging Zag. Zag, though, catches Lugo atop his shoulder and drops his face across the top turnbuckle with Snake Eyes!! Zag steps back into the center of the ring, a dazed Lugo stumbles toward him. Zag kicks Lugo in the gut, hooks him for a suplex and delivers a Perfect Plex! He holds onto the pin. Scruff stands around before deciding to make the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and Zag gets his hand raised in victory. The tron displays “Boo” and the fans do as they are told~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…PERZAG!!!!!
Smith: He did it! PerZag overcame the odds and he’s heading into the finals!
Hood: This Tournament is not going management’s way.
Smith: Indeed it is not.
Hood: But the people I feel for are the residents of Lugo’s town.
Smith: It is tough seeing a hometown hero fall
Hood: Seriously? He’s a fucking dishwasher. I was referring to the promise Nunes made that if Lugo won, all food would be half off tomorrow.
Smith: Let’s hope nobody goes hungry due to a wrestling match. So, PerZag advances to the finals of the tournament where he will await the winner of Grenier and whoever emerges from the lone remaining first round match.
Hood: Hold on a sec. We’ve got a finalist, a semi-finalist, and a first round? That seems pretty disorganized. Are we SURE [blank] isn’t still running the show?
Smith: Positive…but, since you brought the brackets up…let’s take an updated look!
Smith: Alright folks, I’m being told that in just a few moments we’ll have our main event. An Incredible Return, they are dubbing it.
Hood: I can’t tell you how long I’ve been looking forward to this. NOTHING is going to spoil my mood…nothing.
Smith: Well that’s a nice change in tone.
~Hood smiles and nods his head as though a catchy tune is playing. He smacks some imaginary drums with his pencil. An actual drum roll begins. Hood drops his pencil and looks at Smith~
Hood: I swear I had no idea that was coming
Smith: I believe you
~EE emerges from behind the curtain with that same oblivious smile on his face. Scruff, Gruff, and Puff…all three OCW referees are behind him. He hands them each a sign. He orders them to walk into the ring and stand in order~
Smith: This is strange
Hood: I’ve got a bad feeling…
Eastern European: Alright everybody, let’s be crazy! Yell and cheer! Look in ring, cheer the signs, yes? Yes!
~Scruff holds his up first~
OWL
~Gruff is next~
IS
~Puff is last~
NIGHT
Smith: Owl is Night?
Hood: Is that some kind of fucking warning? Like don’t go out at night or something?
Smith: I…I don’t know
~They perform the sequence again, with the fans chanting each sign. They repeat, only faster. They move faster and faster~
OWL! IS! NIGHT!
Smith: A-ha!! They are chanting for OCW’s favorite superstar…Alice Knight!
Hood: She’s an owl? Is that how she traveled from Japan so fast?
Smith: No…I think that’s how our unique GM thought it was spelled.
Hood: Ohhhh…so, wait…does that mean
Smith: She’s here!!!
~”Electrified" by Dressy Bessy begins to play as the fans continue chanting “Alice Knight!” She makes her way out and heads to the ring with a bubbly demeanor. She enters into the ring and kind of skips around for no apparent reason. She rushes the ropes and heads to the middle turnbuckle and waves to the fans as her music fades out~
Eastern European: Look everybody! She is here! The Owl is Night is here! Cheer, be happy! Match start now!
~EE exits the stage. A bell rings. Puff and Gruff exit, taking Scruff’s sign with them. Scruff stops them and reaches into his pants, handing them the sheet he confiscated from Debris earlier in the night. They promise to take great care of it. As they walk by the announce table, Gruff accidentally drops it near Smith~
Smith: Here we go! An additional match! I’m so excited!
Hood: First the death of Mufasa and now this...why can’t things ever go my way?
Smith: I pegged you more of a Scar fan, myself.
Hood: I’m not heartless, you bastard.
~Coe, in his sweater and slacks walks out, dumbfounded and furious. He’s yelling at OCW Security and every fan within ear shot. Hill is not far behind in a wife beater and boxers~
Smith: Looks like Hill and Coe didn’t have time to change into their wrestling attire.
Hood: Well no shit, she was in Virginia like, fifteen minutes ago.
~Coe and Hill enter the ring. Alice steps forward, extending her hand. Hill looks at her likes she’s some kind of abnormality. Coe slaps her hand away. Alice grabs it and makes a ‘how dare you’ look on her face~
Smith: Alright, you ready?
Hood: Nope, I told you, I have no notes. Debris stole them and Scruff stuffed them down his pants.
Smith: Well, lucky for you that Gruff is as responsible as he is adept at officiating matches. He dropped the paper right here, let me retrieve it for ya
Hood: Oh…okay
Smith: Hmm, hmm hmm
~Smith happily unfolds the paper~
Hood: Alright, I have a confession to make. Those weren’t my notes. I left my notes at home.
Smith: I suspected as much but now curiosity has gotten the better of me. Let’s see what piece of trash Scruff found so valuable that he had to hide it in his pants for safe keeping all night…
OWL! IS! NIGHT!
OWL!IS!NIGHT!
OWLISNIGHT!
ALISNIGHT!
ALICEKNIGHT!!!
Hood: Yea, I’d burn that if I were you
Smith: Just when I think things can’t get more ridiculously horrid.
Hood: The gift that keeps on giving!
First Round
Alice Knight (0-0) vs. Irvin Hill (1-0) vs. Tatum Coe (0-0)
~Hill and Coe have apparently made a pact. They want to destroy Alice. They charge at her, as she backs into a corner, holding the stinging top of her hand. She hops on the middle rope and tumbles over the backs of both of them, landing on one knee in the middle of the ring. She then slides out, under the bottom rope. Coe and Hill turn to her. She holds her hands up and yells “Whoa! Whoa!”~
Smith: A similar scenario…albeit under totally different circumstances.
Hood: Huh?
Smith: Well, PerZag had to overcome a biased ref, his opponent, and an aggressive manager. Grenier had to overcome a biased ref and two men teaming up, in a triple threat, against him. Alice appears to be facing a similar uphill climb.
Hood: Scruff is against Alice Knight? I totally forgive him for stealing my notes now.
Smith: You are delusional
~Hill flies through the ropes, landing on his feet. He gives chase as Coe watches from inside the ring. Alice runs around. She hurries past Larry the OCW Superfan. Larry sticks his foot out and trips Hill! Hill falls and his face slams into the barricade. Alice feels a sense of safety. She turns and sees Hill laid out. She throws her arms into the air and the crowd goes wild~
Smith: Well, that’s one way to get it done, I suppose.
Hood: His friends were right. FUCK YOU LARRY
Smith: Please, he’s just a kid.
Hood: He’s got facial hair
~Alice heads over to Hill and helps him to his feet. She checks on his face, it looks to be bruising. She then slams him, face first into the steps. Coe sneaks up from behind and grabs Alice by the hair. He tosses her in under the bottom rope and quickly follows suit. Alice clutches onto his right leg. He tries to kick her off. He grabs a handful of hair again and pulls her to her feet. He wraps his hand around her throat. She pokes him in the eye. He lets go and backs away. Alice twirls her hands around and delivers a Bionic Elbow to the top of Coe’s head! Coe falls to the mat, holding his head in pain. The crowd erupts with Alice Knight chants~
Smith: Look at her go! Isn’t she something?
Hood: She’s something alright
Smith: And, let’s not forget…these two had an epic match at Revenge in 2015 for the Paradigm Championship.
Hood: Who won?
Smith: Alice
Hood: Glad I’d forgotten that one
~Alice yanks Coe to his feet and knees him in the gut. He backs into a corner. Alice climbs to the middle rope and holds up her fist. The crowd cheers. She punches Coe in the head. They count…she continues, they count along. Hill, on the outside, has recovered. He hops onto the apron and jumps atop the corner where Alice is standing. He puts his foot in her face and kicks her away. Alice falls back, but gracefully rolls over the back of her head, into a crouched position. Hill leaps off with a cross body. He connects! Hill gets to his feet and holds his abs in pain~
Smith: That took a toll on the typically in shape Irvin Hill
Hood: Well, he probably ate a big dinner. I mean, the guy thought he was done for the evening.
Smith: Excellent point
Hood: Or Alice had metal implanted in her body to sway the odds in her favor.
Smith: Doubtful
~Coe shakes his head and turns, shielding the corner from Scruff. As if that matters. But, he does it anyway. He unties the top turnbuckle, unleashing the metal beneath it. Hill has Alice on her feet. He whips her into the ropes. Alice bounces off, Hill ducks. Alice grabs his head, stops on a dime and drills him into the mat with a DDT! Coe comes charging out of the corner. Alice has her back to him. He grabs her hair, she responds with a sharp back elbow. It hits him in the jaw and he stumbles into the corner. His sweater gets caught on the metal. He doesn’t realize it. He charges back out of the corner and his sweater rips. The crowd responds with an “ohhhhhhh”. He looks down at the damage with fury building in his eyes. Alice walks up and waves Scruff over. She says something, Scruff produces a roll of duct tape. She tries using it to fix the hole. Coe is about to explode~
Hood: She’s gone too far! How dare she rip that man’s sweater!
Smith: She had nothing to do with that! He took the turnbuckle padding off. She’s trying to help the situation, if you hadn’t noticed.
Hood: Oh, yea, with duct tape. You know what a guy like Tatum Coe uses duct tape for?
Smith: Umm, no
Hood: NOTHING
~Coe loses it and shoves Alice away. He takes the roll of duct tape and hurls it toward the crowd. It hits Larry the Superfan in the head, knocking him down. He rips the portion away from his sweater. That creates two problems. First. It doubles the size of the hole. Second, it becomes stuck to his hand. In dramatic fashion, he tries to hurl it out of the ring, but it won’t unstick. He shakes his hand, wiggles it…but it won’t fall away. Alice giggles and elbows Scruff who seems confused but laughs as well. Hill sneaks up behind Alice and rolls her up. Scruff falls to his knees and makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Whew, that was a close one!
Hood: That’s what she gets for laughing at a man’s misfortune. That sweater probably cost Coe a couple grand.
Smith: Well, he shouldn’t have worn it to the ring
Hood: Like he had a fucking choice? How was he supposed to know Alice can seemingly warp from one place to another?
Smith: She’s awesome
Hood: Fuck off
~Hill and Knight reach their feet simultaneously. Hill goes for a kick, Alice dodges it and picks Hill up. She drops him over her knee with a back breaker!! Hill arches his back in pain. Alice shoves him out of the ring…he rolls under the bottom rope and falls to the floor. Coe finally disperses of the duct tape and removes his torn sweater. He cracks his knuckles and marches for Alice~
Smith: Here we go! Rematch from Revenge!
Hood: And how aperpost that he’s got Revenge on his mind.
Smith: I appreciate you trying to integrate new words into your vocabulary. But, it’s apropos.
Hood: Tonight sucks
~Coe tries to smack her. She dodges it and shoves him away. He reaches for her and they lock up. Coe whips her into the ropes. Alice bounces off and is met with a spinning heel kick!! She falls to the mat with blunt force and grabs her face in pain. Coe smiles and looks out at the crowd. They boo him vociferously. He doesn’t care. He’s got a wicked form of determination in his eyes~
Smith: Oh no, Alice is in trouble!
Hood: Finally Coe is going to take control of this. They should have just given this man a bye into the finals, really.
Smith: That doesn’t really seem fair
Hood: Well, life isn’t fair. Just ask the two drugged up fat ladies on that plane. Or the entire terrified passenger list, for that matter. Wait, how about you ask the poor cab driver? Or, better yet, ask Hill and Coe. This fucking woman, I swear.
~Coe picks Alice up and shoves her, violently into the corner without a top pad. He wraps his hands around her head and repeatedly slams the back of her head into the exposed metal. Eventually her legs give and she slumps to the mat, apparently unconscious. Coe spots something in her hair. He plucks it out. It’s the first portion of his sweater that was torn away. He discards it. Hill hops on the apron and points at Alice. Coe rolls his eyes and drills Hill in the face with an elbow. He yanks Hill over the top rope and deposits him, roughly onto the mat~
Smith: Alice Knight just experienced Degradation from Tatum Coe. How awful.
Hood: Looks like I was wrong…she doesn’t have a bunch of metal in her body. I didn’t hear any clinks and clanks.
Smith: Glad it took her head being bashed into metal for you to reach that realization.
Hood: Hey, I’m a rational man.
~Coe picks Hill up and kicks him in the gut. He hooks his waist and lifts him up for a powerbomb. Instead, he turns him down to the mat and spikes him with a piledriver. He tosses a lifeless Hill out of the ring, turning his focus onto Alice~
Smith: Arrogance by Tatum Coe
Hood: No, no, no…you see, I know this one. That move is called Decadence!
Smith: I was referring to his actions, not the move. He had Hill beat but, no, he wants to pin poor Alice Knight.
Hood: Well, can you blame him? After all the harm she’s caused this man.
~Coe drags Alice out of the corner and bends her over. He picks her up for a powerbomb. He poses for a moment. The crowd chants “Alice Knight!” She wakes up and elbows Coe in the head. He staggers. She elbows him again. He loses his grip. She falls to the mat, knees him in the gut and drops him with Dirty Deeds!! Coe flops over onto his back as Alice makes the cover. Scruff counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and the OCW Arena erupts in cheers as Alice gets her hand raised~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: She did it!! She moves on to face Bob Grenier!!
Hood: Son of a WHORE
Smith: Calm down, she’s still got to get through Grenier.
Hood: I’ll buy the man a thousand ice picks for that match.
Smith: I don’t doubt…
Eastern European: Everybody, please, make excuse for me! I have big news!
~Before Alice can celebrate, EE interrupts the victory aftermath and stands atop the stage. She heads toward the ropes and listens~
Eastern European: No more tournament matches.
Hood: Yes! See? I told you she’d ruin it! He’s not crazy after all! He realizes Alice Knight as OCW Champion would be a terrible start to 2017 so he’s canceling the tournament!
Smith: I hope you’re wrong
Eastern European: Owl is Night so impress me tonight that I have zero choice. In three weeks we have three person match! The PerZag against Bob against…Owl is Night for OCW Title!!
~The crowd goes wild~
Eastern European: Is good, right? Yes? YES! The news is good!
~Alice Knight claps and jumps around with glee. EE exits the stage~
Smith: If my broken English is correct…then I think what we’ve just learned is that Alice Knight, PerZag, and Bob Grenier will compete in a Triple Threat Match…in three weeks…for the OCW Title!
Smith: And there they are, folks! Our final set of brackets!
Hood: Is…is that confetti? Confetti on our OCW Title Tournament brackets?
Smith: I believe it is, Hood. Get used to it…she’s in the finals and there is confetti on the brackets.
~Hood faints and falls out of his chair~
Smith: I think that says it all, folks.
~”Electrified” by Dress Bessy hits as the fans continue chanting for Alice Knight. She exits the ring and smiles while walking up the ramp. We cut to the back.
AKB: Would you stop? You’re driving me nuts.
Who’Re: I don’t know how you can be so calm. We missed the debuts of PerZag, Grenier, and The Incredible One last week…
AKB: Technically I got the scoop on PerZag.
~Who’Re clinches her right fist and considers hitting AKB. He laughs, not looking all that concerned~
Who’Re: And…now this week, Alice Knight. Maybe people are right, maybe I am nothing more than a….
~AKB stands up before she can utter the word~
AKB: You’re not a whore, Whore.
~She smiles~
Who’Re: Aww, Alpha…that’s so sweet.
AKB: Whores actually get shit done.
~AKB rubs the top of her head and pulls out a cigarette. He heads for the exit. Who’Re storms off, furious. AKB leaves the door open, at first, but then thinks better of it. He shuts the door and lights his cigarette, puffing away. A limousine pulls up. AKB doesn’t notice, busy kicking a couple of rocks around. Treat Cassidy emerges from the limo. He walks up to AKB~
Treat Cassidy: Excuse me…
~AKB kicks the rock at a nearby dumpster, nailing it. He plants the cigarette in between both lips and throws his hands into the air~
AKB: Booyah!
~He finally spots Cassidy~
AKB: Did you see that? Perfect aim.
Treat Cassidy: Look, I need to get in there and, for some reason my driver brought me back here. Could you…
~Cassidy motions toward the door. AKB is about to open it. But he stops~
AKB: Whoa, whoa…wait a minute. I’m not falling for that again. Last week I accidentally let someone in and, well it almost got me fired. Luckily, he turned out to be PerZag. If I let some fan in there, they probably would fire me. And, this is the best job I’ve ever had. Seriously, I don’t’ have to do anything and they pay me.
Treat Cassidy: Yea, but I’m…
~Cassidy, a man who has a keen sense for talent. A man who knows when to cut his losses, realizes he’s waging a fruitless battle. He gives AKB a pat on the chest~
Treat Cassidy: Enjoy the cigarette
AKB: Thanks
~Cassidy hops back into his limo and drives away~
AKB: Nice guy
~AKB puffs away on his smoke as we cut back to the announce table~
Smith: It's Treat Cassidy! How does AKB not know who HE is? And what's he doing here, anyway? Hood? Hood?
~Smith sees an empty chair next to him~
Smith: Well folks, it appears as though I’ll be handling the announcing duties solo for this one as my colleague is still unconscious.
~Hood hasn’t moved. He’s barely breathing. He might be near death~
Smith: Hopefully some paramedics will be out here shortly to check on him. I’ve traveled with Hood on the road for years. The man does not eat healthy, at all. I’m slightly worried.
~ Jamoke is already in the ring, stretching the ropes and doing exercises as Belvedere entered the ring.~
Smith: And, as you can see, Jamoke is already in the ring. You have to give it to him, unlike Mope, he has a head full of air and an energy about him that isn’t…well, depressing.
The Incredible One (0-0) vs. Jamoke (0 4 Life)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen… the following contest is your main event. Already in the ring, weighing in tonight at 185lbs… JAMOKE!
~Jamoke gets a small cheer from the crowd, only because of their disdain for the man coming out next.~
DON’T CROSS THE CROOKED STEP!
~After those distorted words echo throughout the arena, the heavy drums of “Honor Thy Father” by Dream Theater follow as the crowd begins to boo in unison. “Cheer” flashes on the Tron and many of them switch to cheering. But, it is a fairly mixed reaction. Despite Larry the Superfan’s efforts. . The curtain flies open as The Incredible One walks out onto the ramp, arms out wide welcoming the hatred, with his bodyguard Knux following closely behind him~
Belvedere: And making his way to the ring, from Halifax, NS, Canada, now residing in Key West, Florida, weighing in this evening at 235lbs… THE INCREDIBLE ONE!
~Hood suddenly wakes up and leaps into his chair full of life~
Hood: And there he is everybody, Mr. Incredible!!!
Smith: Uhhh
Hood: What?
Smith: Are you…okay?
Hood: Am I okay? I’m better than okay! I’m fantastic!! This is going to be the greatest main event of all time!
Smith: Right well some things are better left unexplained. To the action, I suppose.
~The jeers increase in strength as Mr. Incredible curses the crowd out all the way down the ramp. One fan flips him the finger and Incredible reacts by grabbing the man’s beer and tossing into the face of his wife. The man tries to jump the barricade but Knux punches the fan out cold as Incredible rolls into the ring. The cheer sign furtively disappears, leaving the fans to do as they please. The booing increases~
Smith: Knux just assaulted a fan!
Hood: Are you kidding me? He was defending Mister Incredible from danger.
Smith: Sure the fan shouldn’t have flipped him the bird but Incredible was way out of line.
Hood: Don’t you ever listen? Incredible is the crosser of lines! He even made the cheer sign go away.
Smith: Some men just weren’t meant to be cheered, Hood
~Incredible climbs a turnbuckle and raises his hands in the air, breathing in the boos as he jumps off and starts speaking to Knux while his music fades out. Knux exits the ring, and stands on the outside with his arms crossed as Scruff, the referee, calls for the bell. Jamoke and Incredible stand opposite each other, staring at one another before Incredible approaches him, smiles, and extends his hand for a shake. Jamoke looks around, the crowd urging him not to but Jamoke decides to shake his hand, which Incredible accepts.~
Hood: What sportsmanship from Incredible!
Smith: I don’t believe this rouse for one second.
Hood: Have some faith!
~Jamoke goes to let go of Incredible but he tugs Jamoke towards him, hugs him, and then tosses him over his head, performing an overhead belly-to-back suplex, with Jamoke’s back smashing into the turnbuckle. Incredible gets up quickly, laughing, with Jamoke on the ground in pain. The bell sounds. Incredible allows Jamoke to get up on his home and Jamoke goes for a clothesline but Incredible lifts him up after ducking and connects an atomic drop. He then chest chops Jamoke a few times, causing Jamoke to lean on the ropes. Incredible starts punching him the face continuously as Scruff comes by for the count, with Incredible backing off just before the five count.~
Smith: Incredible starting strong but was close to a DQ there - he better be careful.
Hood: Careful? Incredible plans everything out perfectly - he knows what he’s doing. Besides, has Scruff ever dq’d anyone?
Smith: Not that I can recall.
~Incredible eyes Scruff and shakes his head, with a condescending laugh. He waves at Knux. Knux tosses something into the ring. It’s a set of Brass Knuckles. Mr Incredible stares Scruff in the eye while slowly, obviously sliding them over his right hand. He drops to one knee and grabs Jamoke by his very thick hair. He pulls Jamoke’s head from the mat and cocks back, slowly. He holds the stare into Scruff’s eyes~
Smith: He’s just begging for a DQ!
Hood: He’s calling Scruff’s bluff, Smith.
Smith: Scruff’s bluff…that’s an interesting choice of words.
Hood: Yea, well if you knew your OCW history you’d know that Scruff once lived on a farm in Missouri…it was named Scruff’s Bluff.
Smith: Weird name…considering bluff is a term for deceit…trickery.
Hood: Well, I mean he didn’t own it legally, but, still, he lived there quite a while without anyone noticing him.
Smith: Figures
~Incredible DRILLS Jamoke in the head. He does again and again. Jamoke busts wide open. Blood pours down his face as Incredible just pounds away, brass to skull. Scruff appears conflicted. Incredible keeps staring at Scruff, smiling…pounding away on Jamoke’s head. Scruff finally calls for the bell~
Smith: Scruff took a stand!
Hood: That no good bum!
Smith: Mr. Incredible was going to kill that poor man
Hood: He wasn’t even touching Scruff
Smith: I meant Jamoke
Hood: Well, you said poor. Phrasing, Smith…PHRASING.
~The fans give a slight cheer for Scruff’s backbone. Incredible gets up and yells at Scruff, intimidating him into a corner. A voice calls out from the ramp~
Eastern European: Everybody have a head cold! Cool it! This is no DQ match. We cannot have DQ in Incredible Main Event. Match continue!
~EE is at ringside. He climbs into the ring and yells at Scruff. Scruff calls for the bell. It rings and the match is restarted. Incredible goes right back after Jamoke, drilling him with head shot after head shot. A puddle of blood is under Jamoke’s head~
Smith: Ugh, this is getting hard to watch.
Hood: For once, I’ll agree with your wimpy sentiment. That is just nasty.
Smith: There is a line of human decency that Mr. Incredible has crossed. I hoped he’d be different but it seems some people never change.
Hood: Not around here they don’t.
~It’s getting really bad. Life threatening bad as Incredible wails away again and again and again. Scruff can’t take it anymore. He notices Incredible with his hand on Jamoke’s chest. Jamokes’ shoulders are on the mat. Scruff drop to his knees and counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…MR. INCREDIBLE!!!!!
Smith: I don’t care what the bill collectors say…Scruff isn’t all bad.
Hood: He also saved OCW a wrestling mat because sooner, rather than later, Mr. incredible’s fist was going to plow right through it.
~Incredible jumps to his feet. Scruff reaches his. Incredible backs him down in a corner, furious. He holds his hand high, preparing to strike Scruff. EE speaks into the mic~
Eastern European: Hey! The chill is pill, no?
~EE places a careful hand on the shoulder of Incredible. He lowers his right, brass covered fist and backs away from Scruff. Scruff, knowing when to cut and run, drops to the mat, slides out of the ring and exits. EE and Incredible stand in the middle of the ring. EE’s boots squish while splashing through the red puddle. EE stays out of it. EE raises his hand~
Eastern European: The true winner of tonight, Mr. Incredible! He so Incredible that I have special announcement!
~An OCW official hustles up to the apron. EE reaches through the ropes and accepts a black bag~
Smith: That looks like the type of bag that might hold a belt.
Hood: Did EE lose a bunch of weight? Are his pants about to fall down? Why does he need a belt right now?
Smith: CHAMPIONSHIP belt.
Hood: Ah, yea, that makes more sense.
~EE reaches into the bag and pulls out the Paradigm Championship~
Eastern European: As token of our happiness that you here, we give you this title once worn by The PerZag and Owl is Night.
~Mr. Incredible acts shocked. It’s over the top and obvious. The crowd boos loudly. He’s about to put his hands on the title when the lights in the arena go off~
Smith: What the…
Hood: Mr. Incredible needs to change his name, Smith!
Smith: On the spot electrician? I hope?
Hood: Nah…he needs to become Mr. Too Incredible…all this incredibleness has burnt every lightbulb in the arena! It’s Incredible!
Smith: Right…
~The mics have gone out, too. We can overhear EE and Mr. Incredible in the ring complaining. Mr. Incredible seems irate that his main event coronation has been interrupted. EE seems to be saying, as best he’s capable, that he is working to fix it~
Smith: Is…is that it?
Hood: What?
Smith: I’m being told we are going to wrap it up…apparently…
~The tron flickers. It buzzes. It turns on. We cut to the mountains of beautiful Knoxville, Tennessee. Over 150,000 square feet of custom architecture and 200 acres of land. The camera pans the estate, from the outside, before the camera silently delves into the home, going through all the rooms before stopping in the downstairs den. Photographs of prominent people adjourn the wall, as well as championship title belts and other accolades. The camera stops at a hard wood oak desk, a tall desk chair is turned facing the window, away from the camera, a familiar voice is heard on the telephone.~
Man: I will gladly invest more money in this, Mr. Trump. I will money roll the entire fuckin’ project. Fuck those muslim refugees!
~The chair turns to face the camera to none other than, the toughest nastiest southern bad ass himself, “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas. Vargas slides his hand through his short blonde hair and looks at up the camera, tossing up an index finger as if to hold on for a second~
Vargas: (still on the phone.) Yes sir, Mr. President. Whatever you need. I believe in you and your staff. Let’s make this country fuckin’ amazing again. Yes sir. I will await your call. Yes sir, you too.
~Vargas stands up from his desk, wearing a pair of torn jeans and a black t-shirt with white lettering “Don’t Tread on Me”. He reaches into his jeans and pulls a can of Copenhagen from his back pocket. Vargas snaps the can and takes a large glob of chewing tobacco from the can and stuffs it under his bottom lip.~
Vargas: I assume Ferguson let you in?
Cameraman: Yes sir, nice fellow. I am Marty Willis, lead reporter from OCW. My cameraman is sick today, so I am doing both. Running the camera and the ---
Vargas: Look hoss, I don’t give a fuck about your life story. Usually Cassidy handles this shit but he is in Germany scouting.
Willis: I understand, I just have a couple of questions for the latest edition of OCW Newswire.
Vargas: I’m sure they are all stupid questions.
~Willis looks slightly uncomfortable, as Vargas spits a quib of tobacco into a Styrofoam cup on his desk, Vargas’ black butler, Ferguson comes into the den with an ice cold bottle of Budweiser for Vargas. Vargas nods and takes the beer from Ferguson. Ferguson disappears through the door as Vargas takes a large haul off the beer~
Willis: What have you been up to in your time away from pro wrestling?
~Vargas spits another quib of tobacco into the cup and swallows the reminance down with another haul off his beer~
Vargas: Well, bud, a little of this and a little of that. I have many hobbies, and as you all know I am majority owner of a small NASCAR race team based here in Knoxville, we have been busy gearing up for the start of the season and the Daytona 500 next month. I have also been supporting our President, Mr. Donald J. Trump very heavily. He doesn’t necessarily need my money as wealthy as he is, but, I do like to make investments into things that I believe in heavily. I haven’t been in a wrestling match since Hood Rich, but Mr. Trump hired me on as, muscle, if you will during his campaign. Wrestling is my blood, nothing gives me greater joy than lacing up the boots, but, I will say – body slamming idiot protestors in the middle of the street in D.C. gives me chills down my spine.
~Willis tries to smile, but his liberal mind cannot allow him to fully fake it. Before he is able to say anything, Vargas cuts him off.~
Vargas: Before you get offended by your own shadow, allow me to tell you quite simply, to get the fuck out of my house. You got what you came for, and that is me officially announcing my return to OCW. If only Danny B(itch) was still around so I could break his nose, again. I will just have to live with tuning up the garbage on OCW’s current roster before I make my way back up the ladder to the OCW championship that should of never left my shoulder.
Willis: Yes sir, just recently Treat Cassidy said on OCW television that you would be making a comeback to Online Championship Wrestling to reclaim your World Heavyweight championship.
Vargas: That was the plan. Then I saw some broke ass tournament put together by the damn retards in charge of this train wreck. Apparently anybody with a beef can just push their way into the field. That was my plan. But, now, after seeing this bullshit…
~Vargas points toward the camera lens, toward the ring where Mr. Incredible is still standing, consumed by darkness~
Vargas: I’ve made other plans. Nobody comes in and gets handed a title. As much as I hate seeing what’s going on with my title, the title I never really lost, at least those fuckers are competing for it. But, this guy. This guy who walked out on all of us is being handed one? Nah, that ain’t happening. He’s got to get through me, first.
~A reaction is heard from the crowd as they are taken back by what they’ve heard~
Smith: Oh my gosh, Hood…did you hear that?
Hood: Of course I heard it. It’s pitch fucking black in here, I can’t see shit so what the else am I gonna do, work on my brail?
Willis: But…don’t you need a contract?
Vargas: I got one of those ten year deals Dean was handing out like condoms at a high school sex ed class. I’m in. So, they can either book the match or they can watch me ruin every match, segment, interview featuring The Pathetic One.
~The lights suddenly come on. The faceless men appear from the back, holding Treat Cassidy. He has a power cord in his hand. EE taps the mic, finding it audible~
Eastern European: You! Tweet Chastity! You ruin my incredible event! Who is this man on tv? Why is he talking about weird things? Get him off my screen!
Vargas: Would you look at this guy? What the hell is wrong with you, son?
Eastern European: Son? You are not my father! This not silly Star Wars! This serious! I hang you in the air! Hang him in the air!
~Everyone is confused~
Smith: I believe he means…suspend.
Hood: Oh, okay…I was about to say…shit got real fairly quickly.
~Mr. Incredible pats EE on the back~
Mr. Incredible: It’s alright. Truth is, I’ve been praying this animal would show up. Winning the Paradigm Championship in a match against Vargas might be easier than taking it off your hands.
Vargas: Oh, you think so? Son, you don’t have the slightest idea who you’re dealing with. This ain’t no fuckin woman. Brianna or Mia or MJ isn’t standing across the ring from you. This is Chad Fucking Vargas, former OCW Champion. And, just to show you that I mean business, we’ll be doing this my way…we will be competing…
Mr. Incredible: Eh-eh-eh…not so fast. That’s where you’re wrong. We are going to do things the way I see fit.
Vargas: Fuck you, boy. You must be dumber than you look.
Mr. Incredible: Okay, fine. If you don’t comply then I guess you won’t be seeing Treat Cassidy again.
~Vargas spits on the floor. Mr. Incredible and EE laughs. Vargas then spits a giant, brown splotch of tobacco on the lens, covering the screen. EE slits his throat with his hand and the feed is ended~
Eastern European: Haha, this is great idea! Take him to secret place.
~The faceless men drag a weary Cassidy off stage, behind the curtains. The fans are unsettled~
Eastern European: Is going to be great match! Cheer everybody…CHEER!
~”CHEER” hits the Tron. The fans, slowly, start to cheer. Our show comes to a close~