LIVE! Monday, February 13th 2017
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~We cut to the live feed of Massacre. The crowd is at a fever pitch with the biggest match of 2017 set to take place in just a few hours. Signs throughout the crowd read things like “BLAME CANADA” “HIS NAME IS ROBERT GRENIER” “STAY AWAY FROM NATHAN YOU WHORE” “OWLS ARE SPOOKY” “I’LL RIDE BAREBACK WITH REBEL ANYDAY” a man is holding that one for some weird reason… “THE EMERALD IS HERE” “CHAD VARGAS HAS NO FACE LEFT” “TONIGHT WILL BE INCREDIBLE” and “PERZAG.” We cut to the announce table where Hood and Smith appear excited for the action~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to another edition of Monday Night Massacre!! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood.
Hood: What the fuck is with that PerZag sign? Is he a limo driver here to pick him up or something?
Smith: Probably just a fan who lacks in creativity.
Hood: But the period…I don’t know, kinda creeps me out.
Smith: Relax. Folks, tonight we’ve got the biggest match thus far in 2017. The Incredible One faces Chad Vargas for the Paradigm Championship in a Ladder Match. That’s big enough…but, above the ladder is a key to unlock the cage that Treat Cassidy is currently locked inside. If Vargas wins, he gets it all. If The Incredible One wins, he gets the title and a chance to leave a permanent mark, literally, on Treat.
Hood: Don’t forget the man with a sock over his face.
Smith: Hood, in his own Hood-like way, is referring to The Masked Man who laid The Incredible One out last week with a very familiar maneuver.
Hood: I’ve seen so many matches, they all look familiar
Smith: Well I have a pretty good idea who it may be…but we’ll have to see if he…OR she makes their presence felt again this evening. Although, that will be tougher, one would think, given the security that will be on the watch for him.
Hood: Yea, it’s hard to rob the same place twice…unless you’re those guys from Home Alone.
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Cause, ya know, they pretty much sucked at robbing a place once. They never really reached twice.
Smith: Also folks we will follow the developing story of Bob Grenier and his removal from the OCW Title match next week. Canadians have been flooding the OCW offices with complaints of all kinds. This isn’t an administration eager to reverse a decision but…in this instance, I could see it happening.
Hood: Dude, it’s only Canada. All they’ve got are polar bears and Eskimos.
Smith: I don’t think you’re quite accurate there, Hood.
Hood: Okay, so I left off the fucking igloos and stupid ass sled racing. Big fucking deal.
Smith: Right. If the decision holds, we’d see PerZag take on Alice Knight next week for the OCW Title. Still a great match but definitely lacking from what was originally advertised. I mean, you’d hate to see the former OCW Champion not receive a shot at winning back the title he never lost.
Hood: I think it’s all a conspiracy. You watch. PerZag will accidentally step on the Eastern European’s shoe tonight and they will just hand the title to Alice next week.
Smith: That is NOT happening.
Hood: It better not, that man may be Eastern European but he’s got some fine Western European foot wear.
Smith: This is a huge night, obviously. We could talk about it for hours but it would make more sense to just get right into the action. We’ve got debuts
Hood: Drew Stevenson! Yes!
Smith: We’ve got returns…we’ve got it all! And we're about to get started but FIRST...let's head backstage...
OCW man: Whoa, whoa, whoa. HOLD UP! Who the shit are you?
~The “bouncer” puts his arm out, stopping the dude dead in his tracks from making another step. The blonde stunner looks slightly offended~
The dude: I’m on the list, I assure you.
OCW man: What the name is?
The dude: Name’z IGGY HARDY.
~The dude, now identified as Iggy Hardy says his name with great confidence, as if the “bouncer” is almost immediately going to understand and allow him entrance. The bouncer scans the piece of paper on his clipboard~
OCW man: Naw you ain’t on the list.
~The “bouncer” motions for other people to step ahead of the line, always trying to keep the line moving. A couple people bump into Iggy, knocking him to the side. This angers the usual mild mannered Iggy. He shoves the people back and stands before the bouncer again~
OCW man: Look, kid, you’re starting to piss me off…
Iggy Hardy: NO! absolutely NOT! I’m about to get INTENSE! I am IGGY HARDY! 1/2 of the best tag team in professional wrestling! HARDY DUDEZ. Now you better step aside and let me in! Its my first day and I aim to please!
~The “bouncer” rolls his eyes and shakes his head in despair~
OCW man: Hardy Dudez? Never heard of them.
~The OCW man motions again for the line to continue moving. This infuriates Iggy who grabs the man by the arm~
OCW man: If you don’t let go of me right now you are going to immensely regret it.
Iggy Hardy: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! You are going to let me the heck in RIGHT NOW or I’m going to break your friggin arm! I am Iggy Hardy and I swear to God I am sooo close to getting intense right now! You are shattering a dream right now sir, and I will not allow this to slide!
~Just as the “bouncer” has finally reached his wits end, he grabs Iggy by the throat and is about to get rid of him once and for all, but Iggy shakes the hold and hip tosses the man onto the ground, clipboard flies in the air as Iggy wiggles by him as he falls and into the OCW arena~
Hood: WHO in the holy hell was THAT GUY?!
Smith: It appears as though that is Iggy Hardy. ½ of the greatest tag team of all time, and the newest wrestler to ink a contract here in OCW.
Hood: What a LOON!
Smith: Coming from you that must mean something…
Hood: Tyrone will probably have to find himself a new gig after tonight, that Iggy Hardy took him down with hardly any effort.
Smith: Security detail isn’t really in the budget.
Hood: Shut up! It doesn’t always have to be politics with you!
Smith: I’m not getting political, I’m simply stating that professional wrestling organizations have an uncanny knack for hiring completely inept security guards.
Hood: It does seem to be an industry wide problem. Well, aside from those faceless fuckers.
Smith: Indeed…well Iggy Hardy will make his debut in the ring next week, from what I understand and OCW officials are excited about his future. But right now I'm told something is taking place with the Eastern European...let's take a look!
Eastern European: Yes Mr. Walsh, it will…sorry, I sorry. Mr. Welsh. All is great! Event tonight will be main and owl is night fly high in semi-main. Grande is hanging in air from match and…what is a Canada? Oh, okay. We speak more soon? You coming? Oh my…
~A fax machine spits out some paper. Viewers at home groan. They figured new management might have upgraded the electronics in OCW. But, yes, OCW still receives facsimiles. EE snatches what looks to be a contract. His eyes pop~
Eastern European: Mr. Welsh the news is good! Remember woman from before? Champion from thirty six month ago? Contract just come in on printer machine. She signed and is here! She return tonight!
~EE nods and says something about talking later. He flips his phone shut and giggles like a creep~
Eastern European: The night is good. The night is good.
~We fade back to the announce table~
Hood: What the fuck was that all about? Did you get any of what he was fucking saying?
Smith: Let’s see here…
~Smith works on some words as though they were math problems and comes up with a few translatable sentences~
Smith: Alright…Bob Grenier is still suspended but Canada seems to be really angry about it.
Hood: Fucking figures.
Smith: Alice Knight is wrestling
Hood: Don’t remind me
Smith: He is excited about the main event
Hood: I hate that I have something in common with that man
Smith: And umm we apparently still use a fax machine
Hood: Old habits die hard, Smith.
Smith: Oh and Marcus Welsh is on his way
Hood: What? I need some breath mints, how’s my hair? Does it look thick and radiant?
Smith: It looks like it always does.
~Smith continues studying the unintelligible ramblings of the GM that he wrote down while Hood turns around and asks a young fan how his hair looks. The mother quickly pulls the kid away. Hood grumbles obscenities under his breath. He spins back around as Smith is hit with a revelation~
Smith: Wait a minute! A former female champion is returning tonight!
Hood: What? Who?
Smith: I don’t know…but it’s a female and she was a champion…thirty-six months ago. Wow, that’s strange. The guy could have just said three years but he goes for the months instead…
Hood: Dude stop trying to understand his thought process and tell me who this woman returning is. I mean it could be really awesome like…
Smith: C’mon, name an awesome female champion.
Hood: Well, you know, there was that one…
Smith: Yea, just as I thought. I’m not going to name names because I don’t want to give it away. But I can think of a certain female who shocked OCW in 2014 by winning one of the biggest matches in company history.
Hood: If it’s Ana Archia…I am slitting these wrists with the bottom right corner of the envelope my student loan statement came in.
Smith: Wow, that’s some next level hate.
Hood: You’re fucking right it is.
Smith: I’m sure we’ll find out in due time…however, for the moment…it’s time we get some wrestling action underway. So, let’s head to the ring for what should be a really interesting…competitive contest. A true match for the purest fans out there.
Hood: ‘Time for our first match’? We’ve been doing television together for like a quarter of a century, off and on...
Smith: Mostly off…
Hood: … and still the best you can come up with is ‘time for our first match’?
Smith: Well, I mean, in my defense… it really is time for the first match.
~ There is a strange flickering light in the arena. ~
Hood: Technical difficulties before the first match. Classic OCW…
~ The lights go back to normal, revealing Vortex already standing in the ring. ~
Smith: Woah!
Hood: I guess that was just his... entrance effects.
Smith: Seemed like somebody just flicking the lights off and on…
Hood: Where the fuck is Bel Biv DeDere?
~ Belvedere comes from backstage, jogging towards the ring and power-chewing the last huge bite of a sandwich he had been eating. ~
Smith: I am often ashamed to be associated with this business.
Hood: We’re all ashamed to be associated with you, too.
~ Belvedere grabs his microphone. He hasn’t finished chewing. Flecks of pastrami and provolone spray into the front row from his mouth-hole as he talks. ~
Belvedere: Fmm mhrmmrham, mrrahurnny, whrreng mrhunren an mrehmemmy mhrums… MOHRMEHX!!!
~ Vortex takes his small cock out and looks at it, horrified, like he’s never seen it before and doesn’t know what it is. He starts screaming and pulling at it, like he’s trying to rip it off, but that only makes him scream all the more. Belvedere finally swallows the sandwich. ~
Smith: What on earth is going on?
Hood: Classic OCW, baby.
Smith: What’s so classic about flickering lights and a guy trying to remove his own penis?
Hood: Can’t you ever just enjoy life?
~ The lights don’t even dim. The song “Truda’s Blues” starts to play over the P.A… the whole song is just a recording of a cowbell being dropped on a concrete floor over and over again. Truda comes out. Nobody claps. Nobody boos. Nobody gives a fuck about any of this, of course. He falls three times before he’s halfway to the ring.~
Belvedere: AAAAAAAAAAND his opponent, fighting out of Truda City, Trudastan… weighing five hundred pounds and standing seven foot twelve, he is the one… the only… TAAAH-ROOOOO-DUH!!!
~ Truda makes it into the ring. Vortex looks at him, wild-eyed, grasping his bloody penis in one hand and pointing across the ring with the other. ~
Vortex: You! Did you do this? Did you put this thing on me?
Truda: Huh?
Belvedere: LET’S GET IT ON!!!
Smith: Is he supposed to say that? Isn’t there supposed to be a bell or something?
Hood: Your mom’s a bell.
Smith: What?
Hood: Classic OCW, baby.
Smith: How many goshdarn times are you going to say that?!
~ Truda and Vortex head to the middle of the ring. They try to lock up, but they both whiff and stumble into the ropes on opposite sides of the ring. They each bounce off and stagger backwards, where they smash into one another, back-of-the-head to back-of-the-head. There is a loud concussion-like sound. They both fall down instantly. ~
Hood: THE TRUDABOMB!!! HE HIT HIM WITH THE TRUDABOMB!!!
Smith: I think they just fell into each other actually…
Hood: Nope. Classic Trudabomb.
~ Everyone is startled as the P.A. blasts back to life. The song is “Girls Just Wanna Have a Nice Time”, which is a lot like the Cyndi Lauper song “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” except way cheaper to license. Despite the loud music, the competitors in the ring remain prone and motionless. ~
Smith: We’re only like four and half seconds into this show… now what?!
Hood: Something totally fucking classic, you can bet on that.
Announcer 3: Yesssss, it will be… quite memorable.
Smith: WHAT-THA-HECK!!!
~ The camera cuts to the announce table, and we see that a small, dark-skinned fellow in ragged wizard’s robes has somehow appeared at the desk between Smith and Hood. He has the look of an ethnic. He holds a human skull, which he gnaws on intermittently.~
Hood: LILJUNGLEMAN? IS THAT YOU?
LilJungleMan: Is what me? Am I what? Or, in other words... what is the essence of a man?
Smith: … um. What are you…
LilJungleMan: What am I doing here? I knew you would ask that!
Hood: Holy shit, he read your mind!
LilJungleMan: I’m here because I had a vision. Something momentous will occur here tonight. I felt it so strongly it drew me away from the mists of my jungle sanctuary.
Smith: So, like… good momentous, or like I-don’t-want-to-be-alive-anymore momentous.
LilJungleMan: It is not for us to say what is good or not good, fool! Tonight… the chosen one returns!
Smith: Oh no.
Hood: Oh YES!
LilJungleMan: No, no, no… you think I came all this way just to hype the seventeenth Scott Syren comeback? No indeed. A far greater star makes their comeback tonight, friend Hood. Without question THE GREATEST STAR IN OCW HISTORY!!!
~ The song continues to play, and a shadowy figure emerges from the backstage area. It steps into the light, and it is clearly… ~
Hood: SCOTT SYREN! I knew it was gonna be Syren! Yes!
LilJungleMan: That is absolutely NOT Scott Syren!
~ It absolutely and clearly IS Scott Syren, but there is something different about him. For one, he’s wearing a skirt and sports bra. The bra has been hastily stuffed; bits of sweaty newspaper are sticking out from the sides here and there. He’s also wearing a snarled, low-quality wig of long, dark-blonde hair, the kind you can get at WalMart for four dollars the day after Halloween. ~
Smith: It really, really looks like Scott Syren.
LilJungleMan: Clearly, that’s a woman. Bigot.
~ The woman is also wearing a strange belt just above her hot pink vinyl miniskirt. There’s hardly any room for leather on this strange strap, for it has several non-matching championship plates attached to it in a row. Some of them are burned or otherwise defaced; one is so covered in barnacles you can’t make out any of the words. ~
Smith: Those are the regional championships from OCW’s last run! How did he—she—get those?
Hood: Is that other one… is that the old World Title? The one that was lost in the sea?!
Smith: There was a world title lost in the sea?
Hood: I don’t fucking know. We only have shows like five to ten times every decade, I can’t remember what happened to every belt every person ever had in the world. Lay off. You’re the nerd that’s supposed to be all remembery and shit.
~ In the ring, the two valiant warriors are beginning to stagger to their feet. ~
Smith: Shouldn’t they both have been counted out by now?
LilJungleMan: I tied the referee up backstage. With vines.
Smith: Vines, of course. Why wouldn’t the referee be tied up with vines?
~ Truda throws a punch at Vortex. It misses.
They are both getting exhausted. The woman who is not Scott Syren takes her time getting into the ring, as her theme music finally dies out. ~
Hood: Watch out, pretty lady! There are big, tough wrestling men in that ring!
Smith: Are you being serious? The bulge of his penis is hanging out the bottom of his miniskirt…
Hood: Speaking of penis…
~ The woman who is not Scott Syren kicks Vortex in his penis, which he never did tuck back into his tights. Vortex howls and falls to the ground. ~
Vortex: IT HURTS SO BAD! WHAT IS THIS THING???
~ Vortex begins punching at his wiener, still not understanding that it is a natural part of his body. He sits in the corner of the ring in a pool of his own blood, brutalizing himself until a medic finally pulls him out of there and pokes him with 20 ccs of pure Afghani horse tranquilizer. Truda, with the fire of battle in his eyes, glares at the woman who is not Scott Syren. He stamps his feet and snorts like a bull. He charges across the ring at the woman. At least that’s what it looks like at first. Instead, he runs right past the woman, jumps as high as he can, and sails over the ropes on the opposite side of the ring. He does a beautiful swan dive and lands head-first on the entrance ramp. The crowd erupts with lukewarm muttering as Truda, broken and bloodied, crawls backstage. The woman who is not Scott Syren tucks her penis back up under the miniskirt and flexes in the center of the ring. The crowd starts a “SYREN” chant, which leaves her looking very confused. LilJungleMan crawls into the ring, bringing a microphone with him. He hands it to the person that is definitely a real female woman and is in no way Scott Syren. ~
Not Scott Syren: That’s right everybody… I’M BACK!!!
~ The crowd gives a legitimate cheer for the first time tonight… for the first time years if we’re being honest. ~
Not Scott Syren: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it’s me… the doctor of DAMAGE… the princess of PAIN… the one… the only… BANANA CALABORSISS!!!
~ Everyone stops cheering. LilJungleMan goes up on his tippy-toes to whisper in the huge woman’s ear. The woman nods. ~
Banana Calaborsiss: Brianna Casablanca, I mean!
~ The crowd cheers EVEN LOUDER. They have been waiting so long for this moment. Brianna takes the strange belt from around her waist and holds it high. ~
Brianna Casablanca: This belt represents the glorious history of OCW, of which I, Brianna Casablanca, am a HUGE part. A huger part than anybody else, ever, actually. But you already know that.
The Crowd: WE LOVE YOU, BRIANNA!!! WE LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH!!!
Brianna Casablanca: I’m not here for gimmicks and crap. I’m here to THROW DOWN, and to prove that I am the true champion of OCW!
~ The crowd cheers for her bold and original words. ~
Brianna Casablanca: So I’m laying out an open challenge to OCW… do any of you SO-CALLED MEN back there have what it takes to fight me for the Unified OCW Regional World Championship for All Peoples But Especially Women???
~ The crowd is in a frenzy now. They love wrestling. They love it so fucking much. What is wrong with them I wonder? ~
Smith: This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.
Hood: Well then, uh, quit looking in the mirror and check out this tight action in the ring! The greatest and most important OCW superstar of all time has returned!
Smith: That is clearly Scott Syren making an extremely lazy attempt at drag.
Hood: Nope. Definitely Brianna Casablancas.
Smith: If nothing else, I guess having the regional titles surface is an interesting twist…
Hood: Have some respect for the sport, scumbag. It’s not “the regional titles”. It’s the Unified OCW Regional Champion’s Championship for World Champions who are Women.
Smith: That isn’t even what he called it.
Hood: SHE! That isn’t what SHE called it. Check your pronouns, bigot.
~EE steps out from behind the curtain, clapping his hands. His fingers are all extended, like a weirdo. He laughs and then speaks~
Eastern European: The Brianna is here everybody! Isn’t this wonderful? The White House is here!
Smith: Okay, that’s it. This guy can translate Spanish into English like it’s no big deal but he can’t say terms like ‘fire’ or ‘suspend’. I’m going to lose my mind with this maniac…NOT TO MENTION that is clearly not Brianna Casablancas.
Hood: Sure it is. She obviously took a few losses hard, left the business, got on a hardcore steroid regimen and now she’s back.
~EE enters the ring and shakes hand with Brianna. EE pulls his hand away fast after nearly having it crushed. He then shakes hands with Liljungleman. Liljungleman sniffs his knuckles before greeting him in five different languages at once~
Eastern European: Man from the tiny jungle, nice to be making you an acquaintance. Brianna the White House, I am huge fan of your words. I want you know that whatever you need I will offer.
~EE seems a bit entranced with Brianna. He is caught staring at her giant, muscular pecks. Brianna doesn’t notice, instead reaching down and adjusting her dick bulge while looking into the lights with an attempted sense of dignity~
Brianna Casablancas: While I’m not one to come in and stir up any controversy. I do believe that my name belongs in that OCW Hall of Fame. So, in an effort to force myself into a place I totally belong, I’d like to begin a string of matches where I defend my Unified OCW Regional World Championship for All Peoples But Especially Women
~EE squints. His brain clearly hurts. He tries to work it out~
Eastern European: Name is too long. It very confusing. Might confuse fans and announcers. Especially guy named Hood. We make it smaller?
Hood: HEY! That turncoat mother fucker
Brianna Casablancas: Alright. I can probably shorten it a bit – just as long as it holds all the meaning of the original name. How about we call it…The Belt.
Eastern European: This is perfect! I like it very much. I am very much blowing like the fan for this.
Brianna Casablancas: It gets even better. If I defend the title ten straight times, then I get inducted into the Hall of Fame. However, if I lose…and this is where it really gets interesting. If I lose before that tenth title defense…then whoever defeated me gets to induct me into the Hall of Fame.
Smith: Wait, that doesn’t make any sense. As a matter of fact, none of this…aside from our inept, oblivious on site GM makes any sense!
Hood: You know, I was never a fan of Brianna. I always found her to be somewhat forced and shoved down our throats. But I have to give it to her…that’s a very logical formula. She’s really matured in her years.
~EE, despite his short comings as an intelligent being, finds fault in the logic. Brianna sees this and ruffles his hair while perking his pecks by patting the bottoms of his sports bra. EE’s eyes light up~
Eastern European: This is great idea! Come on, let’s head to back and discuss further. I have great drink called Angry Dog. It great deal. Taste great but very cheap. Come on, you and man from tiny jungle drink with me. We have good time, yes? Yes!
~EE sits on the middle rope and creates a gap for Brianna. She just sort of lumbers through it, holding her crotch to keep any thing from falling out. Liljungleman hops through the opening like a frog and runs up the ramp way on all fours like a greyhound dog. It’s somewhat off putting but, hey, that’s him. EE hops off the apron to the floor and tries to escort Brianna. But Brianna shoves him off and yells something about women’s rights and equality and liberation and all that kind of stuff. So EE pulls his arm back and follows her up the ramp. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: I don’t know what to say…I thought this type of stuff was over.
Hood: Dude, I thought you were a fan of Brianna. I mean, you obviously didn’t like her as much as you like Alice…but still, you weren’t shy about pulling for her against The Incredible One.
Smith: That is NOT Brianna. That is clearly Scott Syren. And for some stupid reason our GM thinks it’s Brianna. I mean, I get maybe he doesn’t know what she looks like but how you could ever mistake Scott Syren for a woman is beyond me. I mean, Tommy Flamer, yea, sure, maybe. Scoot Time, okay. But Scott Syren? No way.
Hood: So wait a minute…wasn’t Syren under a ten year deal with Dean?
Smith: He was
Hood: And didn’t he just sign with the Eastern European
Smith: Apparently so…under a false name.
Hood: So he’s getting paid twice?
Smith: …why, yes, it would appear so! Not only is he making a mockery of our business but he’s getting paid double everyone else!
Hood: I might have to hire him as my financial advisor. That’s fucking genius.
Smith: Don’t worry, GM Marcus Welsh is coming tonight. He’ll sort all of this out.
Hood: I don’t know…do you think Syren’s mockery of Brianna will piss off the Canadians?
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: Then I don’t see him caring all that much.
Smith: Well she is from the UK, so maybe they will be offended…whenever this airs over there.
Hood: Seriously? The UK? I mean, like, c’mon.
Smith: Well, Hood, when you have an inarguable point, you have an inarguable point. I guess it’s time to move on…horrible start to the evening.
Hood: This is so great. I hope nobody wises our on-site GM up.
Smith: Given the way he was eyeing ‘Brianna’…Scott Syren may have no choice but to wise him up.
Hood: I don’t know, Syren is extremely dedicated to staying in character.
~They both pause, awkwardly~
Together: MOVING ON
Vortex throws a punch at Truda. It misses.
Truda throws a punch at Vortex. It misses.
Vortex throws a punch at Truda. It misses.
Truda throws a punch at Vortex. It misses.
Vortex throws a punch at Truda. It misses.
Truda throws a punch at Vortex. It misses.
Vortex throws a punch at Truda. It misses.
Truda throws a punch at Vortex. It misses.
Vortex throws a punch at Truda. It misses.
Jonathan: Dude, what about Who’re? Didn’t she say that she wanted to meet you tonight for...something?
Nathan: Oh yeah, hang on…
~Nathan gets out his phone and dials~
Nathan: *Pause* Who’re! Hey… it’s er…Nathan. Hey! Yeah, I’m good. You? Good. *Pause* Yes. It was a big win. Hahaha yeah, thanks! OCW Tag Team Champions… Listen about that? Yeah, we’re not on the card tonight so… *pause* well I mean at the minute there are no more tag teams to beat are there?
~Nathan brings his sunglasses down his nose and winks at the camera. Jonathan smiles~
Nathan: Yeah, so… I was wondering, Jonathan and I are going out for the evening – explore Key West a bit. I know you’re busy tonight but later do you wanna join us for dinner? *Pause* You will? Awesome! OK. OK yeah. Yeah, see you later. Yeah, I’ll ring you later. We’ll be…
~Nathan looks at Jonathan who shrugs~
Nathan: Well… somewhere. Hahaha. OK. Bye.
~Nathan hangs up~
Jonathan: Ready?
~Nathan nods and the twins leave the arena. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: Isn't that sweet? Love could be blossoming here in OCW!
Hood: Who the fuck calls a woman when they are in the same building?
Smith: It is a big building, Hood. Some might even refer to this building as, an arena.
Hood: Seems like a pussy move to me. You've got this chick you're crushing on in the same building as you and instead of finding her and talking to her, face to face...you give her a call and then run out the door? WTF...how does this shit work?
Smith: Well, I think it's...
Hood: Oh, wait...I know why it works...because she's a whore.
Smith: Okay, that's enough. I think it's sweet to see a good ole fashioned romance blossoming in OCW. It's been, well, never since we last saw that on this broadcast.
Hood: I wouldn't go that far...we had some pretty tight tag teams over the years..
Smith: I will not hear any accusations of the sort! The only 'lusting' I can remember was Bifford for Dangerous Dan and that was more of the blood lust variety
Hood: Ahh, good times
Smith: Regardless...it's time we move on. Annie Alvarez, a relic from OCW's past makes her return against Tatum Coe and that match is next!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is scheduled for one fall…
~”Tear Away” by Drowning Pool begins to play. A very frustrated Tatum Coe makes his way down to the ring. The entire act seems to disgust him. He steps into the ring and leans in a corner, shaking his head~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Miami Beach, Florida…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 215lbs….Tatum Coe!!!
~”Girl All The Bad Guys Want” by Bowling For Soup hits. The fans jump up and give a nice ovation for the returning OCW star. Annie Alvarez eagerly skips her way down to the ring. She slides in, under the bottom rope and pops to her feet. She looks over at Tatum with an interested gaze. Tatum lets out a sigh and pops out of his corner, standing upright~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Los Angeles, California…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 125lbs…Annie Alvarez!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Well Hood, this should be interesting. Two of the longest tenured wrestlers on the current roster. Not to mention, Annie and Coe had an interesting conversation one week ago…if memory serves.
Hood: Like I would fucking know? The stupid feed cut out before they said anything. Really pissed me off.
Smith: Well, calm down…she’s in there and in her wrestling gear.
Hood: Didn’t her gear used to be a lot shorter? I mean, what the hell is she doing wearing pants?
Smith: A newer, more modest Annie?
Hood: Nothing lasts, Smith. NOTHING LASTS
~Coe and Annie meet in the middle of the ring. They share a brief conversation. It appears to almost be a recruiting pitch on Annie’s part. Coe looks around, apparently conflicted. Annie continues talking. Finally, Coe snaps. He palms Annie in the face and shoves her away. She turns around and kicks him right in the groin!! Coe drops to one knee. Annie knees him in the face. He falls over, holding his face and crotch in pain~
Smith: You don’t say no to Annie
Hood: Who would ever do such a thing?
Smith: Coe? Apparently?
Hood: Eh, well he’s Tatum Coe. Not like he’s hurting in that department.
Smith: I doubt it was over female companionship. It seemed to be something different
Hood: Oh, well I can’t blame him. Why would you want to spend time with a woman if you weren’t fucking her? Ludicrous, Smith.
~Annie stands over him and yells “SEE? SEE? YOU USED TO BE SOMEBODY!” She stomps on him a few times. She runs into the ropes, bounces off, does a cartwheel followed by a moonsault onto Coe!! She hooks his legs for a pin. She talks trash to him while covering saying stuff like “Yea, lay there like a punk!”~
1!
2!!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Whoa, he kicked out with a vengeance there
Hood: COE USED TO BE A CONTENDUH, SMITH!
Smith: Yea, I’m not sure what her motivations are with all this harsh motivational stuff
Hood: It’s dirty talk, Smith. This is all part of her mating ritual
~Coe powers out with anger on his face. Annie has lit something of a fire under the former OCW LightWeight Champion. He gets to his feet and grabs Annie by the throat. He backs her into a corner and squeezes. The look on Annie’s face seems to be encouraging his aggression. Coe lets go, violently, throttling Annie’s head against the top turnbuckle. He backs away, eyeing her. He motions for her to come at him. Annie hops onto the middle rope and leaps off with a dropkick into Coe’s chin!!! Coe staggers back and falls through the ropes, landing on the outside~
Smith: This match is, umm, weird.
Hood: Yea, I can’t tell if they are fighting or flirting
Smith: I was hoping you’d shed some light on this, given your perverse persuasions
Hood: Hey, I may be into some pretty kinky stuff but definitely not this…whatever this is.
~Coe gets to his feet on the outside. Annie hops onto the top rope and balances. She leaps off and wraps her legs around the head of Coe and drops him with a Dragonrana!!! She holds onto the pin for a split second before realizing where she’s at. She lets go and pulls Coe to his feet and tosses him back inside the ring~
Smith: As athletic as ever
Hood: Man, talk about being straight forward. Just tossed that shit right in his face.
Smith: It’s a wrestling move, Hood.
Hood: That’s what she wants you to think
~Coe slowly drags himself into a corner, sitting on the mat. He leans back with his bottom head resting on the turnbuckle. Annie slides into the ring and spots Coe. She sprints at him, jumps in the air and rams her crotch in his face several times with a Bronco Buster!!! After about ten thrusts she backs away and watches Coe slouch to the mat. She drags him into the ring and goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Close but no cigar.
Hood: He only smokes Cubans, Smith
Smith: I was referencing the pinfall…not to mention I was talking about Annie.
Hood: Oh, well in that case…Swisha Sweets for Miss Alvarez
~Annie waits for Coe to get to his feet. He gets to his knees. She smacks him in the face. Coe gets to his feet. Annie slaps him over and over. Coe bitch slaps Annie in retaliation. Annie’s head jerks to the side. We zoom in, she smiles. She turns and nails Coe with a Shining Wizard into the gut!! Coe doubles over…Annie hooks his arms and drills him into the mat with a Pedigree!! She goes for the pin, Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and Annie gets her hand raised~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ANNIE ALVAREZ!!!!!
Smith: Impressive…albeit strange win for Annie.
Hood: Why do you have to demean her victory?
Smith: I’m not demeaning anything…it was strange.
Hood: You’re such a damn hypocrite. If that was Alice who had just won that match you’d be all “HOLY COW WHAT A TREMENDOUS VICTORY!! GREATEST WIN IN THE HISTORY OF OCW!”
Smith: I think you’re exaggerating just a bit.
Hood: Am I, Smith? AM I?
~Annie hangs around in the ring. Coe staggers to his feet, looking dazed. She reaches out and grabs him by the chin, jerking his head toward her. He blinks a few times, trying to straighten out his vision~
Smith: What is this?
Hood: I think she’s just making sure Coe’s handsome features are still intact. I mean she doesn’t want to fuck some kind of Sloth from the Goonies lookin mother fucker.
Smith: Oh please, like she could have done that amount of damage to his face.
Hood: There you go again, demeaning her achievements!
~Coe finally snaps into the moment. He chops her arm at the elbow, bending it and forcing it from his face. He steps up to her and stares, angrily into her eyes. He reaches up and grabs her by the hair and jerks her head back. Coe leans in and gives her an aggressive, painful looking kiss. He pulls back and lets go of her hair. Annie seems to have enjoyed it~
Smith: Disgusting
Hood: Hey, just because she turned you down doesn’t mean you have to go and make fun of her on air.
Smith: I would never make any advances towards that filthy hussy!
Hood: Hussy? For fuck’s sake, man.
~Annie points at the ropes. Coe nods and heads for them. He opens them up and she exits. He follows and hops off the apron to the floor. He then helps her off the apron to the floor. The two of them walk up the ramp together as “Girl all the Bad Guys Want” plays. They enter into the curtain together~
Smith: I just don’t get it, I really don’t. But, then again, this is OCW.
Hood: Smith, it’s your age old love story. Boy meets girl. Girl kicks boys ass. Boy forces himself on girl. Girl likes it. Boy and Girl leave together…a modern day Romeo and Juliet!
Smith: Well, if that is the case, let’s hope for the sake of their families that their story has a happier ending. Alright folks, let’s head backstage.
Eastern European: Mister ‘Credible! There you are! Ready for match tonight?
The Incredible One: What kind of fucking question is that? The show will close tonight, Mr. European, as me the Paradigm Champion.
Eastern European: Good… could you come this way with me for moment?
~Eastern European shuffles TIO and Knux towards another section of the parking lot and shows six large, muscular men standing still, arms folded, surveying the area~
Eastern European: This, ‘Credible, is the security team you asked for! They will stop Man that is Masked from entering arena!
The Incredible One: Fantastic. Thank you, European. Can I have a list of their names and could you give us a minute?
~With a nod, EE complies and hands TIO a list of names before making his way to the back to do more work. The six men are standing in a straight line, side-by-side, not moving. TIO examines the list as he begins to call out the names~
The Incredible One: Frank… Randall… Grant… Mike… Ashley… Emmet… wait… you… isn’t Ashley a girl’s name?
Ashley: Uh, I am a girl.
~TIO’s eyes widen, realizing the man was in fact, a woman. He looks at the other men. Ashley speaks up for clarification~
Ashley: But I am as tough as ANY man. I do NOT want preferential treatment. I’ll mop the floor with any man!
~With wide eyes and a look that says he may not believe everything Ashley just said The Incredible One mouths the words “Okay then” and looks down at the list. He folds it and places it in his pocket before speaking~
The Incredible One: Okay… listen up people. Do you know who I am? I am the MOST IMPORTANT PERSON… in this building tonight. Tonight, I will fight a has-been southern hick named Chad Vargas, in a ladder match, and will become the next OCW Paradigm Champion. The second era of The Incredible One will be beginning tonight. There was an incident last week however, where a masked man showed up and physically assaulted me. He tried to not only ruin my evening – but jeopardize my chances of being the Paradigm Champion tonight. Your job tonight is simple and you’re being paid a hefty sum. I’m also about to tip you each an extra thousand dollars so you understand the importance of what I’m about to tell you… you are to stop this masked man – at all costs. I don’t care what you have to do. If he dare show his face, you are to stop him. If he somehow makes it to this ring tonight… the six of you will have to personally deal with me at the end of the show… do I make myself clear?
~TIO smirks as he hands each of the security officers a bundle of twenties before signaling to Knux and heading to the back. We cut to the announcers~
Smith: Well it appears as though management's insurance policy for tonight's main event is in full effect.
Hood: Don't speak with that sort of intonation. This isn't a screw job. A fucking masked man interfered last week and is probably going to try to do the same tonight. He's merely protecting the integrity of our industry
Smith: Yea, right. This is just the start of what could be a long night for Chad Vargas
Hood: Do you know what happens to masked men who enter gas stations? Corner stores? Grocery Stores? BANKS?
Smith: I don't know, do they get complimented on the stitching? Do people ask if they have a rare skin disease?
Hood: They get fucking shot. Or, at the very least, arrested. masked men are BURGLARS, Smith. Burglars by their very definition are robbers, thieves...this fucking masked man is trying to steal the Paradigm Championship away from The Incredible One.
Smith: I guess we will just choose to view this situation differently
Hood: Oh, I see. Maybe YOU'RE the masked man, huh? You're starting to sound like it...
Smith: I certainly am not! I was sitting RIGHT HERE last week when he came out, that's an impossible scenario
Hood: Try telling Liljungleman something is impossible
Smith: I'm moving on from this inane topic. I want to discuss the health of Chad Vargas. We’ve got some potentially upsetting news concerning his health. He is scheduled to compete tonight and, from what I understand the match is taking place. However…his condition stemming from The Incredible One’s assault seems to be…well, distressful. Earlier this afternoon he was in the ring, running the ropes, loosening up before his big match and, well, this is what happened.
~Vargas is seen inside the ring. The arena is empty aside from all the security surrounding the ring to make sure he doesn’t do something he’s not supposed to. Larry the Superfan is in the crowd taping instructions under the seats of fans. Vargas begins running, getting some cardio in. Our view turns to the announce table for some stupid reason. The camera man is obviously ADD. We hear a crash and quickly jerk back to the ring, it’s empty. The camera moves and zooms to find Vargas lying on the floor outside the ring with his head and right shoulder under the ring apron. Security rushes and pulls him up, to his feet. He’s wobbly, his face is still bandaged and he appears barely conscious. We cut back to Smith~
Smith: As you can see, just while running the ropes Vargas lost his balance and fell out of the ring. Now, I don’t know how anyone can expect him to defeat Shootah, let alone The Incredible One in that type of state.
Hood: Oh, come on, he’d beat Shootah.
Smith: Seriously, Hood. He’s got to climb a ladder to win…it…it just seems impossible, his equilibrium is scrambled.
Hood: It may not be that bad. He is from Everclear County, Smith. He might have woke up this morning after a terrifying dream slash premonition over what The Incredible One is going to do to him and hit the liquor store.
Smith: So you think he fell out of the ring because he was day drunk?
Hood: Isn’t it obvious? He FEARS The Incredible One so he had to down some liquid courage to even show up tonight. Plus, you know how drunk people do things they’d never do sober?
Smith: All too well
Hood: Well, I’ve never seen Chad Vargas run the ropes
Smith: That’s because you’ve never shown up to work earlier than five minutes before we hit the air.
Hood: Doesn’t make what I said any less true
Smith: Regardless…Chad Vargas is in bad shape folks…whether it’s brain injuries or a massive hangover, The Confederate Icon has a tough road ahead. We'll keep you guys updated if any additional news breaks. However, it's time for our third match this evening as Robert Morbidus makes his debut against OCW's resident detective...Jack Puffer!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…our opening bout is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~ The arena goes dark, then flashes blood red...Mr Judas then walks out first showing off his prodigy - Robert Morbidus. He walks through the curtain, looks around with absolute disdain at the audience. He then powers down to the ring, focused on the task at hand~
Belvedere: He hails from The Other Side of Darkness…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 275lbs… “The True Living Vampire” Robert Morbidus!!!!
~”Hurricane” by Bob Dylan starts to play. Detective Jack Puffer appears, nervously. He slowly walks toward the ring as Morbidus stares a hole through him from inside the ring. Puffer reaches the ring and stalls. Mr Judas is standing on the outside, watching Puffer. Puffer looks at him and then back at Morbidus. He decides to remain on the outside, near the ramp for the time being~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Aurora, Illinois…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 215lbs…Detective Jack Puffer!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Jack Puffer seems a bit shy about entering the ring. I can’t say I blame him.
Hood: He’s not being shy, Smith. He’s investigating the ringside area. Rumor has it a woman lost her wedding ring last week while sitting front row. She’s enlisted the services of Jack Puffer.
Smith: Isn’t it a coincidence, then, that he also has this match…his first in nearly a month.
Hood: What, you don’t believe in coincidences?
Smith: Not when they coincide with one of your stories
~Mr Judas approaches Puffer. Morbidus remains in the ring, transfixed on Puffer and his anxious temperament. Mr. Judas casually invites Puffer to enter into the ring by moving his hands in that direction. Puffer drops to his knees and begins to inspect the ring apron. The fans boo~
Smith: Okay, this is ridiculous…he’s not investigating anything
Hood: I’m telling you, this poor woman lost an expensive earring last week, a family heirloom…
Smith: You said WEDDING ring just a second ago
Hood: That’s what I meant, wedding ring, sheesh...it’s jewelry Smith, it’s all the same.
Smith: Try telling a fiancé that.
~Belvedere walks up to the ring and talks to Scruff. He yells “Count!” in his perfectly crafted voice and cadence. Scruff thinks for a minute and he looks at his fingers. He holds up one finger and yells out ‘ONE!’. He proceeds from there, using his fingers as a guide. Morbidus hasn’t moved, staring at Puffer. Puffer crawls around with Mr. Judas slowly pacing behind, more curious than malevolent. Puffer finds a torn piece of athletic tape and examines it thoroughly~
Hood: Smith! A break in the case!
Smith: That’s athletic tape, Hood! There are pieces of that everywhere.
Hood: Don’t you undermine the efforts of Detective Jack Puffer…this man is like a combination of Sherlock Holmes and…some other detective.
Smith: Sherlock Holmes is the only famous detective you know, isn’t he?
Hood: While I really respect detectives and what they do. I’d have to, you know, do some investigating to get to know any other detectives and, well, investigating is pretty lame.
Smith: Hood, that’s EXACTLY what detectives do
~Scruff reaches seven and pauses. He looks at his fingers and squints. Mr. Judas, without looking up, calmly states loud enough for Scruff to hear “Eight.” Scruff smiles and nods and yells “EIGHT!” Puffer grows anxious. He drops the tape and looks around. He’s weighing the options of competing versus taking a loss via count out. Scruff hits “NINE”~
Smith: A resounding nine there by our homeless referee
Hood: I didn’t know Scruff was German.
Smith: The number nine, Hood. Aren’t you paying attention?
Hood: Normally I pay full and complete attention. I’m just busy trying to help the good detective locate that poor woman’s diaphragm.
Smith: Ah geez
~Puffer gets an added few seconds as Scruff pauses to count his fingers a few times. Puffer finally slides in before Scruff can yell ten. Puffer gets to his feet and the crowd gives a cheer, happy that this match is finally going to get underway. Puffer thinks they are all huge fans of his. So he does a bow~
Smith: Sorry, Jack…but you aren’t getting those types of cheers.
Hood: Did he solve the missing…
Smith: I’m not listening to any more of your made up malarkey, Hood! What’s next, her missing scrunchy?
Hood: Don’t be ridiculous, Smith.
~Puffer turns around and is met with a giant boot to the face!!! He hits the mat hard and groans in pain, slowly moving. Morbidus grabs him by the throat and pulls him clean up, into the air, with his feet dangling toward the mat. He tosses Puffer into the nearest corner and unleashes a flurry of lefts and rights into his midsection before topping the assault off with a stiff right hand that sends Puffer to the mat, seated on his ass, head resting against the bottom turnbuckles~
Smith: I think we can all see why Jack Puffer was so hesitant about getting into the ring.
Hood: He’s not a man that wants to be confined, Smith. Those ropes, they make him feel like a prisoner. Puffer needs room to spread his wings!
Smith: That or he knew Morbidus was going to hand him a thorough beating.
~Morbidus grabs a hand full of Puffer’s thin, brown hair. He pulls him to his feet and whips him across the ring. Puffer slams into the corner and stumbles ahead, reaching for the middle of his back. Morbidus meets him in the middle of the ring, lifts him up and drills him into the mat with a Spinning Side Slam!!! Puffer appears out, but Morbidus is disinterested in a pin~
Smith: According to my notes, Morbidus calls that Stake through the Heart.
Hood: So he’s like a hypocritical vampire?
Smith: What do you mean?
Hood: He doesn’t want you to drive a stake into his heart but he’s cool with doing it to other people?
Smith: It’s a wrestling move, Hood. Get over it.
~Morbidus gets to his feet and he pulls Puffer up, quick and with ease. He positions Puffer so the Detective’s back is facing Morbidus. Morbidus gives him a short, stiff forearm into the back. He then picks Puffer up and drills him into the mat with an inverted slam! Puffer is done for…but Morbidus has one more move left in him~
Smith: I wouldn’t normally advocate throwing a match…but after witnessing this, I think Puffer should have remained outside for the ten count.
Hood: I agree…he could have possibly located the missing item. But, now this bastard Morbidus who has no consideration for the woman and her lost item has ruined the investigation.
Smith: He’s the true living vampire, Hood. I doubt he cares.
~Morbidus hoists Puffer up and onto his shoulders. He twirls around the ring with an airplane spin. He goes around quite awhile, longer than anybody anticipated. He then deposits Puffer off his shoulders and onto the mat with an F-5!!! Puffer flops over onto his back as Morbidus goes for the pin. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. Mr. Judas enters the ring and raises the hand of Morbidus~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…”THE TRUE LIVING VAMPIRE” ROBERT MORBIDUS!!!!!
~Mr. Judas exits, followed by Morbidus. Puffer is quickly attended to by some OCW personnel. We focus on Smith and Hood~
Smith: That was brutal. I don’t know who Robert Morbidus is or where he comes from…but he made a statement tonight.
Hood: Dude, he’s Robert Morbidus! The true living vampire from the other side of darkness…says so right here on your sheet.
Smith: Yea, but I’m talking about what’s inside the man.
Hood: Organs? Blood? Some bones
Smith: Not literally, Hood. What kind of a man is he?
Hood: A vampire man. Geez, you’re really off your game tonight.
Smith: You don’t understand what I’m talking about. Whatever…let’s head backstage.
Caution: “Where ya going?”
White: “Fuck you I’m out of here. Get out of my way.”
~Caution laughs at the little girl before him~
Caution: “Just like a bitch ass I had on my crew, couldn’t hack it so I sent his ass to the house. Wanna know the difference between you and him?”
~Caution grabs the Tussin from top of White’s duffle bag and takes a sip himself~
White: “Yeah, what’s that huh?”
Caution: “He didn’t go in a body bag…”
~White looks at Caution with a dumb ass puzzled look on his face. Caution sucks down another gulp of White’s Tussion, and split second afterwards, he kicks him in the gut and lays him down onto the floor with the Hammer Drill! White lies motionless on the floor. Caution indulges in another snap off the bottle of Tussin, before dumping it all over White’s still motionless body. Caution pulls a crushed pack of rollies out of his shirt pocket. He pulls one out and puts it in between his lips, he fishes around his pocket for his zippo lighter and lights his cig. He takes a huge drag off it, nearly finishing the entire smoke. He lets out a sigh and flicks the cig onto White. The Tussin ignites. Caution watches in for a few seconds before exiting the locker room~
Caution: “That shit goes up in flames that easy, ‘magine what it does to your insides.”
Smith: Oh my gosh! Call the paramedics! Get someone back there immediately!
Hood: Let ‘em burn! He sucked anyway! Caution looks like he may indeed become OCW’s fIRE gUY.
Smith: So you support him burning employees?!
Hood: EX-employees, and no, idiot. Well, I mean yeah I don’t mind seeing flesh burning every now and again, but fIRE gUY is the guy that axes “super”stars for El Presidente so he doesn’t have to. He fires people, or in Caution’s case… sets fire to people.
Smith: So, decimation by conflagration?
Hood: Sorry, I don’t speak Portuguese, Smith. I speak English and I buy my clothes at JC Penney. Having said that…I blame the Eastern European. He’s always talking about setting fire to people
~OCW Paramedics rush the locker room and begin extinguishing White with a couple of fire extinguishers as we cut to the announce table~
Smith: Regardless of your logic…you still shouldn’t set people on fire. I’d think that might be something a person would just know…not have to be taught.
Hood: Well, Caution has been hit in the head more times than a trailer park queen so I’d say his judgment might not be what it once was.
Smith: That is just awful rationalization. Coming up next, Hood is the return of Drew Stevenson.
Hood: Finally, something worth waking up for! This guy would have been tits in the Wizard of Oz
Smith: He does call himself the Emerald so, there’s that. He holds a win over Bob Grenier from 2014 and is looking to build upon that here in 2017. Let’s head down to ringside for his return against John E Depth.
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen this next match is scheduled for one fall…
~”Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang begins to play. The crowd sort of groans when they see John E Depth and Shootah emerge at the top of the ramp. Shootah is being scolded by Depth. Depth, who is carrying a chair, marches down to the ring and plants the chair, firmly at ringside. He yells at Shootah to sit down and not move. Depth enters the ring~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Hollywood, California…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 230lbs…John E Depth!!!
~The arena lights suddenly just shut off consuming the arena into complete darkness. The sudden engulfing of a massive bright spotlight shines down onto the entry area, the fans try looking through it but it is far too bright to see through it with the naked eye. Suddenly, the public address sound system comes on playing "The Man" by Aloe Blacc as the stage is still engulfed in the massive light. After a few seconds, the spotlight begins fading away and the arena lights return to life as there stands Drew Stevenson with his hands on his hips just looking out nodding as these fans boo him heavily, he just begins walking down the aisle sporting his usual attire which consists of dark green wrestling pants, dark green knee pads, boots and his hands taped up in dark green tape as well. He begins walking down the aisle until he gets down to the ring, he quickly rolls into the ring from under the bottom rope immediately getting back to his feet just pacing the ring simply awaiting for the bell to ring thus getting this match underway~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Kansas City, Missouri…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 250lbs…”The Emerald” Drew Stevenson!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Alright Hood, here we go…the return of Drew Stevenson!
Hood: I’ve been looking forward to this. I’m not much on emeralds. More of a topaz guy myself but, hey, green isn’t the worst color in the world.
Smith: What is?
Hood: Yellow, probably
~Depth and Stevenson lock up. There’s a slight back and forth between the two, both men trying to gain a strength advantage. Stevenson quickly squirms out of the lock up and applies a grip on Depth’s arm. Depth winces and bends over. He walks toward the ropes. Before he can reach them, Stevenson stomps, applying even more pressure. Depth falls to one knee, wincing. Stevenson torques the arm even further~
Smith: Some wrestling! A rarity here in OCW
Hood: I don’t know what you’re talking about, we see wrestling all the time.
Smith: Not like this…this feels scientific…technical. This is pure.
Hood: I’m not sure what you’re talking about but you just made wrestling sound really gay.
~Depth tries to roll through in an effort to break the hold. Stevenson, however, is prepared for this counter and he responds by locking in an armbar! Stevenson lays back on the mat and pulls as hard as he can. Depth’s shoulder looks to nearly be separated. He reaches over with his leg and is able to place it atop the bottom rope. Stevenson holds on for a while until Scruff finally steps in and issues a break~
Smith: That deep armbar had to have hurt.
Hood: Well no shit
Smith: The only positive aspect of this match, if you’re a Depth fan, is that Shootah has remained in his chair.
Hood: Yea…I guess you’ve gotta start somewhere
~Depth slides out of the ring. Stevenson gets to his feet and watches Depth. Depth walks around the ring, working his arm back and forth. He’s not paying much attention to his surroundings. He trips over one of the legs of Shootah’s chair. He nearly falls over. He turns around and yells at Shootah. While he’s doing that, Stevenson slides out of the ring, behind Depth. He runs up and clubs Depth with a forearm to the upper portion of his back. Depth tumbles into Shootah, spilling him out of the chair~
Smith: The curse of Shootah continues
Hood: If Depth wants to have a shot at winning…he needs to send Shootah to Alaska or something.
Smith: I’m not sure Shootah would be comfortable all the way up there
Hood: True, I’m not sure how many rats there are in Alaska.
Smith: I’m not talking about rats…I’m talking about the weather.
~Stevenson grabs Shootah’s chair and he tosses it aside. He picks Depth up by the hair. He goes to grab Shootah by the hair but notices how dirty it is. So, he grabs Shootah by the back of the neck. He slams both their heads together with a sick ‘clunk’ sound. Shootah falls to the ground, unconscious. Depth holds his forehead, cursing in pain. Stevenson tosses Depth back into the ring. Depth rolls toward the middle and slowly gets to his feet. Stevenson slides in under the middle rope, quickly gets to his feet, he hooks his arms around the waist of Depth and snaps him to the mat with a snap German Suplex!!! Depth is laid out on his back, barely moving. Stevenson heads for the nearest corner~
Smith: Drew Stevenson is in total control!
Hood: Sounded like he was fucking around with coconuts out there, banging those fools heads together.
Smith: A sickening sound, indeed.
Hood: Do you think somebody should…as an act of mercy…offer Shootah some shampoo?
Smith: That’s a nice gesture
Hood: I mean, I’m certainly not going to do that. But I was just thinking maybe if he got all the flies and shit out of his hair he might see better when he’s at ringside and would quit fucking shit up.
Smith: Right
~Stevenson reaches the top and he looks down at Depth, who hasn’t moved. He jumps off and achieves considerable height. He comes crashing down with a big elbow right across the throat of Depth!!! Depth’s body spasms as Stevenson pops to his feet, in total control and ready to claim his first victory in his OCW return~
Smith: Drew Stevenson calls that The Emperor’s Fall! This one is just about over, Hood
Hood: That would suck if Depth’s throat is fucked…who’s gonna yell cut now?
Smith: Is that really that big a deal?
Hood: Sure it is…guy keeps thrusting, waiting for a cut that never comes and he ends up dying from exhaustion.
~Stevenson pulls Depth to his feet and he whips him into the ropes. Depth bounces off and Stevenson catches him and plants him into the mat with an Arn Anderson style Spinebuster!!! Depth is flattened as Drew goes for the pin. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…DREW STEVENSON!!!!!
Smith: Big win for Drew Stevenson! 2017 is off to a perfect start for The Emerald.
Hood: Yea and John E Depth loses again. I swear, Smith, if he were this big a failure in anything else, he’d be fired.
Smith: Hard to argue that logic.
Hood: So, this green guy…what’s next?
Smith: Green guy?
Hood: Yea, that guy, in the ring, the winner.
Smith: THE EMERALD
Hood: Sure, sure, semantics, Smith, semantics!
Smith: That’s a pertinent question, Hood. I’d expect a pretty fast ascension for Mr. Stevenson. OCW staff is very high on his talent and are looking to make a star out of him.
Hood: A star, huh? You know, I bought a star once.
Smith: You did?
Hood: Oh yea, wasn’t as expensive as you’d think.
Smith: What did you name it?
Hood: Fucking Star
Smith: Uhhh really?
Hood: Mhhhmm…because I wanted people all over to say, when staring up at it to say “Look at it, look at that fucking star!”
Smith: A total waste of money…
~After having won against Depth, a sweaty Stevenson leans into the ropes as the referee walks over to him and raises his right arm into the air declaring him as the winner. Realizing that the referee is touching him, he quickly yanks his arm out of his grip and requests a microphone. Being given one on demand, Stevenson places his foot on the chest of the fallen Depth who lies there motionless for the time being~
Stevenson: When it was announced that yours truly decided to re-sign with the OCW promotion, you can bet your sweet ass that one man, Bob Grenier thought he was reliving a nightmare. Back in 2014, you’re looking at the man who not only went damn near an hour against the man but put him down for the three count and proved just who was better.”
~With a large grin expressed, he backs away and extends his left arm outwards. No longer standing on Depth, he embraces the boos which are coming in and loudly~
Stevenson: When I re-signed my contract last week I noticed something that was REALLY interesting…that being that little Bob-o got himself suspended simply because he doesn't like what is going on around here. Well here's some facts Bob, maybe had you been a team player then they would have never stripped that OCW Championship from you. Maybe had you been more of a leader instead of a follower then this company would have embraced you but that's not what you did, was it?”
~Shaking his head, he means business~
Stevenson: Of course not! You went on this tirade, you went on this large complaining spree and quite frankly; you deserved EVERYTHING you got and then some. But don't worry Bob-o because while you are sitting at home with your thumb up your ass? I will take it upon myself to lead this company, I will take it upon myself to make this company the greatest that it can be and so the question is, where exactly do I want to start?”
~With the crowd in attendance really deafening the arena in boos, we see some trash fly into the ring as these people really despise Stevenson which puts a large, arrogant smirk on his face. As Johnny goes to roll over, Stevenson looks down at him and gives him a quick kick which keeps him down for the time being~
Stevenson: So just like I did to the “unbeatable” Bob Grenier once upon a time, I have my sights set on the Dravers. Oh yeah, I know you boys are in the back paying close attention to this and good, that's what I want because you see — I have a VERY special partner in mind and well, he should be here right about… NOW!”
~Looking back to the entrance, a smile comes over the face of Stevenson as the arena turns to pitch black. Lights from phones start to turn on, to light up the arena as the crowd murmur about who this person may be. Suddenly, the lights turn back on, and 'The Demon' Lance Savage stands in the middle of the ring, staring directly at Drew Stevenson, who still has his smile on his face. Savage quickly smirks, before lifting John E. Depth off of the ground, and lifting him up in the air, delivering a Brainbuster (All Finished)~
Smith: 'The Demon' Lance Savage has joined Drew Stevenson, and they are after the Dravers.
Hood: Wouldn't you think that Drew would hire someone with two eyes, not one.
Smith: Well, it doesn't look like he cares about the amount of eyes he has.
~At ringside, Shootah stares up at 'The Demon' Lance Savage, his face full of terror. 'The Demon' looks at him, and this makes Shootah run up the ramp, towards the back. The lights suddenly turn off, and turn back on moments later to reveal 'The Demon' standing in the way of Shootah. Shootah backs away slowly, looking back towards the ring, before running back towards it, with 'The Demon' giving chase. Shootah reaches the ringside area, and stares at Drew Stevenson in the ring. He looks back at Savage, before dropping down, and crawling under the ring~
Smith: Shootah is trying to hide.
Hood: And Drew Stevenson is loving it.
~In the ring, Drew is laughing his head off at Shootah, as Savage reaches the ringside area. He drops down onto the ground, and searches under the ring, before grabbing Shootah's feet, and dragging him out. Shootah, trying to squirm away, gets lifted up by Savage, and thrown into the ring. Drew holds Shootah in place with his foot, with Savage sliding into the ring. Savage walks over to Shootah, lifting him up as Drew Stevenson takes his foot away from him. Savage, turns him around in mid-air, making his head face towards the mat, before Savage drops down, hitting Shootah with a Tombstone Piledriver (Vicious Death). Savage stands up as the crowd continues to boo. He stares directly at Drew, as Drew resumes speaking~
Stevenson: Now as you can CLEARLY see, time is winding down for the Dravers. So listen and listen REAL good: from this point forwards? Those OCW Tag Team Titles are on borrowed time, you understand? You hold them ONLY because we haven't had an opportunity at them yet.”
~Speaking with conviction, these fans are throwing more trash into the ring as Stevenson continues to speak while smirking to purposely piss these people even more~
Stevenson: So hold onto those titles. Clutch them close to your chest and cherish them because here VERY soon — you’re going to be looking at the NEW OCW Tag Team Champions and well; there's not a damn thing you can do about it.”
~Upon finishing, he tosses the microphone down onto the canvas and smirks again as the trash pours into the ring due to so many pissed off fans. Looking over at Savage, Stevenson lightly slaps him on the chest and motions towards the ramp as both men exit the ring. We cut to a different feed~
Blackjack Dealer: 10!
Jonathan: Hit me!
Blackjack Dealer: King!
Jonathan: Hit me!
Blackjack Dealer: Er…you should…
Jonathan: My friend…er…*He reads the casino employee’s namebadge* Guss…I am one half of OCW’s Tag Team Champions. Now: Hit me. Please.
Blackjack Dealer: 10!
~Jonathan bangs his fist on the table in frustration~
Jonathan: Damn. Had 100 bucks riding on that…
~Nathan looks over at his brother and smiles while shaking his head. Nathan’s phone rings~
Nathan: …Hello? Hi Who’re! We’re in the casino in town. Wanna join us? What? Oh. Oh OK. Yeah sure. Yeah. Meet us later. Yeah. OK. OK bye.
~The screen fades out. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: The night is running thin...will Nathan and Who'Re meet up?
Hood: I don't know, but if I were him I'd get the hell away from that Blackjack Table.
Smith: I can't argue that...he doesn't seem to understand the rules very well
Hood: It's like he has dementia. Geezus, Smith...he's already showing signs of Syphilis and he hasn't even fucked the whore yet!
Smith: Stop it. Besides that was Jonathan, not Nathan
Hood: I'm going to need a pay raise if this company wants me to tell twins apart. But, if what you say is correct...holy shit, it's worse than I thought. They're both morons!
~Cuts to the back where we see AKB talking to the camera man~
AKB- Why do I have to interview, Alice? Where's the whore? God damn it...
~As AKB talks to the camera man, Alice Knight in her ring gear and t-shirt carrying a cardboard box, she quietly approaches him in the background~
AKB- I mean Alice is cute and everything, but isn't she like dirty-dirty, if you know what I mean? Not the fun dirty. Just plain ol' dirty? Plus isn't she a few cans short of a six pack too and...
Alice(finally interrupting him)- HEY! AKB! EH! KAY! BEEEEEE!! WHOOOOOOAAAAA. I mean BEEs are you kidding me? If you're a 'i need my bees' kind of person then the hell with you, am I right? AM I RIGHT??!!?
Smith: Alice is spot on about Bees, Hood.
Hood: Oh, but I guess ANTS are okay.
AKB-(towards the camera man)- More than a couple cans....(to Alice)... HEY Alice! Great win last week. And good luck next week against Zag and Bob. I mean last week they... well... kind of made a fool of you. Kicking your ass and what not. But hey, you'll bounce back.
Alice- Yeah, yeah, yeah. They kind of did. And i asked for this interview time because of two reasons. First... i got this box of new t-shirts i wanted to share. See.
~Alice removes the box to reveal her t-shirt, a florescent pink with black bold text that says #OWLisNIGHT~
AKB- What? Like an advertisement for your stup- um, your awesome OCW shirt?
Alice- Like the ol' Bible quote says; 'There's no such thing as bad advertising.' That Jesus guy said it, right next to the chapter about stoning gays.
AKB- I think you're wrong... and well...
~Alice pulls out a shirt. Another florescent pink shirt with #OWLisNIGHT in bold black text on the front~
AKB- Of course that would be the shirt.
Alice- Isn't it perrrrrfect. Perrrrrrrrrfect. Meow... Haha. I'm hilarious, I outta try stand up.(she pretends to squeeze the tip of AKB's nose) HONK,HONK!
~AKB looks into the camera with a perplexed look. Alice starts removing AKBs jacket~
AKB- What the fuh- wait... are we going to fuh- now that's what i'm talking about it. Do you have a rubber?
Alice- I do, I have so many rubbers... but that's not what we're doing here. I want you to try on a shirt for the OCW fans. It would really help sell to those douche bags and hipsters out there who follow your stuff. You know like those artsy fartsy music snob people.
AKB-.... yeah I'm not wearing the shirt. But i'll keep one to give to... a garbage can or something.
Alice- Now that's not nice. But you keep it. Now... to get to the point.
AKB- Finally...
Alice(laughs)- You're kind of a comedian too, huh? Anyway, this is about Bob Grenier and Perzag. And any doubters out there in the OCW universe that don't think I deserve to be in this match for the OCW title. I've worked my ass off to get here as well, gang. Bob, i respect your talents in the ring, not so much your foul mouth. And I do think you should have a fair contract with OCW... and maybe you could have some awesome hashtag-BOBisGREN-AT! t-shirt. Or something, the marketing team at OCW could help you come up with something as good as that. But that's aside the point, do you really think you are going to take the OCW title back to Canada.... for keeps? No way. I mean i love Canada but that title is staying right here. In the OCW. And won't be used for you to pawn for beer money and maple syrup. And PerZag, you got the upper hand last week. But things are going to change. Because if you really think that Alice Knight. THE OWL-IS-NIGHT, doesn't deserve to be in the match. Well just ask the fans... the OCW Uni-world.
~Alice grabs the microphone from AKB and walks to an entrance door that leads to the crowd carrying her box of t-shirts. The crowd erupts when she walks out chanting 'OWL-IS-NIGHT'- 'OWL-IS-NIGHT'~
Alice- ALICE KNIGHT! ALICE KNIGHT!
~Alice then proceeds to throw some of her t-shirts into the crowd and begins hugging some of the fans. One fan in particular, a corpulent, greasy gentleman tears off his “DANGEROUS DAN IS AWESOME” shirt and reaches for one of Alice’s shirt. Alice backs away and eyes the guy. She pulls a pair of scissors out of the box and cuts part of one of the shirt off. She takes another shirt and cuts away part of it. She then grabs some duct tape and joins the two shirts~
Smith: A talented seamstress as well! She just turned that shirt from a large, to a double XL!
Hood: I could have done that.
~The fan hurries and puts the shirt on. The duct tape is surprisingly strong. He yells out “THIS IS THE FIRST NEW SHIRT I’VE WORN SINCE BIFFORD WAS HANDING OUT THOSE FREE DAN SHIRTS THREE YEARS AGO!! ALICE KNIGHT RULEZZZZ!!” Alice might be dirty, but she isn’t filthy. She backs away from the man and awkwardly walks back to AKB~
Alice- ALICE KNIGHT, baybay! I'm coming for that OCW title. I'm going to win it for the OWL-IS-NIGHT fan-express. God... it feels good...
~Alice walks off screen for a second as AKB looks at the OWL IS NIGHT shirt confused. Alice quickly comes back on camera~
Alice(upset)- You know what.... I could have made like 30 bucks each for those shirts... GAWD DAMN IT!!!
~Alice puts her hands on her hips looking down as the scene fades out~
Smith: Poor Alice…she cost herself another payday.
Hood: Whatever...she’s evil, I’m telling you. She knows Grenier and PerZag don’t get royalties and now she’s just handing her damn t-shirts out as though money is no object? Evil woman, Smith…EVIL.
Smith: She certainly seems impassioned about the OCW Title Match next week. I’d say she’d have to be the favorite.
Hood: Ya think?
Smith: Hood…now that reality draws closer…give me your thoughts on Alice Knight as OCW Champion.
Hood: Words can’t express how I’d feel about that, Smith.
Smith: Taking the high road, I…
Hood: So I’ll give you an example. I’d feel like a squirrel
Smith: Promising
Hood: Crossing a road
Smith: Well, it’s the nature of things, sure
Hood: A car is coming
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: The squirrel gets confused and stalls
Smith: …
Hood: And is viciously run over by an 18 wheeler…all 9 wheels on one side decimate its body.
Smith: Okay, that’s…
Hood: Then the 18 wheeler realizes he was going the wrong way, turns around and all 9 wheels from the other side pound the already flattened carcass.
Smith: We get your…
Hood: But the squirrel is still alive. Vultures come down and start to tear away at its guts.
Smith: Please, no…
Hood: ANTS, because we all know it’s gotta be ants, scurry onto the road and pull away at what’s left. And, after that, the squirrel is laying there decimated, suffering and near death. THAT’S just the beginning of how I’d feel.
Smith: Well, let’s hope that’s an exaggeration. But, in the meantime, let’s go down to ringside for our next match!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!
~ Lunch horn is heard going off loudly as "Hard Workin' Man" by Brooks 'N Dunn hits, Caution walks out with a rollie cigarette hanging from his lips. He slowly walks down the ramp to the ring. He wears cut off jean shorts and a black tank top reading "Work 'em boys" and black work boots. He climbs into the ring takes a drag from his cig and drops it to the mat, squashing it with his boot. He raises his arms in the air screaming "COME GET SOME!". He then angrily bounces off the ropes and begins shadow boxing waiting for his sorry sack opponent~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Hell’s Basement, New York…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 275lbs…he is a former OCW Hardcore Champion…Caution!!!
~The lights around the arena turn to red as the opening strains of "Slow Me Down" by the Devin Townsend Band play out, the lights flicker red and white. The camera swoops down to the entrance to show the silhouette of a man, his back turned to the camera, with his left hand raised in a fist above his head, the lights all suddenly burst on as a huge explosion rocks the arena. Rebel rotates quickly, pumping his fist at his side as he does, he begins the walk down to the ring, reaching out periodically to shake hands with the fans. He jumps up onto the ring apron and turns quickly, his arms wrapped around the top rope, again he pumps his left fist in the air then hops over the top rope. He walks around the ring, his fist raised, then stops in the middle, a bank of red fireworks sweep across the side of the ring behind him.~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’7 and weighing in at 240lbs….Rebel!!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: By far Rebel’s biggest test to date. Caution might be…well, different…but he can go.
Hood: If by go you mean just randomly try shit with the hope of earning a victory…then, okay.
Smith: He’s a former Hardcore Champion, Hood.
Hood: Dude, he’s like those inflatable men…but if, ya know, their hands were made of razor blades. Just flopping around without any direction or plan…but, ya know, with the ability to slice your throat.
Smith: The throat, huh?
Hood: Or the shoulder, but seriously, what would be the point in creating an inflatable man with razor hands if he cut people in the shoulder? It’s gotta be the throat.
Smith: This line of conversation is killing the show. Let’s get to the match.
~Rebel tries to lock up with Caution. Caution is acting like a crazy old man. He yells some unintelligible remarks and slaps Rebel’s arms away. Rebel is finally able to snare Caution’s head under his arm for a headlock. Caution shoots Rebel into the ropes, squirming free. Rebel hits the ropes and Caution throws a punch. Rebel dodges it, grabs Caution’s head on the way past and drops him with a neckbreaker!! Caution grabs his neck in pain and rolls onto his belly~
Smith: Well, Caution hasn’t changed much since we last saw him.
Hood: He’s older and fatter
Smith: I don’t know, he’s always had sort of that ‘bowling ball’ look, Hood.
Hood: Oh no, he’s got a pretty good gut now. Somebody should have cautioned him about donuts and beer when you run north of 50.
Smith: Terrible joke, Hood. Not funny at all.
Hood: Yea? Well I fucked your wife
Smith: ----
~Smith is stunned into silence as his dear wife left him years ago. But, to Smith, it still feels like last week. Anyway, back to the match. Rebel gets to his feet and he pulls Caution to his. He whips Caution into the ropes. Caution lumbers into them, half limping. He fires off and throws a forearm into the chest of Rebel. Rebel backs up, slightly but keeps his eye on Caution. Caution throws another forearm, having stalled. Rebel blocks it and drills Caution with a forearm of his own. Caution staggers back. Rebel hits him again, Caution staggers even further. Rebel grabs the left arm of Caution and pulls him in. He lifts a knee into the rotund gut of Caution. Caution flips over Rebel’s knee and he hits the mat hard~
Smith: When was this?
Hood: Huh?
Smith: The copulation you had with my former wife…with my dear, sweet Cynthia.
Hood: Dude, I was…
Smith: Was it within the last year? Huh? How is she doing? Has she been getting all my flowers and telegrams?
Hood: Telegrams? I really hope you haven’t been sending that shit to your ex wife
~Rebel stomps on Caution’s back. He arches in pain, wincing. Rebel keeps his foot firmly planted in the middle of Caution’s back and he grabs hold of Cautions long, wet, thin hair. He pulls back, putting a ton of pressure on the neck of Caution. Caution yells before reaching out and obtaining the bottom rope. Rebel releases the hold and grabs Caution’s legs. He pulls Caution into the middle of the ring and flips him over onto his back. Caution sits up and stares at the mat, catching his breath. Rebel runs into the ropes, shoots off and delivers a drop kick into Caution’s face!! Caution falls back on the mat and stares blankly at the ceiling~
Smith: How did she look? Was she ravishing as usual? Did you contact her or did she contact you?
Hood: Dude, stop it…you’re obsessed!
Smith: You found her on facebook, didn’t you? See, I knew she blocked me from finding her.
Hood: Look, I never slept with your ex-wife, okay?
Smith: Are you saying you two slept together while we were still married?
Hood: No, man…look I never touched your ex wife, ever, alright? For starters, I never found her all that attractive. And I’m pretty sure she hated me…she called me a cantankerous cancer once.
Smith: Gosh I miss her way with words. She was so full of life.
Hood: Sure, now, could you call the damn match? You know shits gone sideways when I have to be the voice of reason.
~Rebel, finding this to be easier than he imagined, pulls Caution up and backs him into a corner. He delivers a vicious knife edged chop to the chest of Caution. Caution bends over, wincing. Rebel lifts a knee into the face of Caution. He snaps back into an upright position. Rebel chops…he knees…he chops…he knees…he chops and he knees. Caution falls, face first into the mat. Rebel looks out to the crowd who begins chanting his name~
Smith: Okay, I just sent a text to her number. I think that the fact she came up tonight is a sign that maybe she’s willing to hear me out.
Hood: You’re fucking pathetic man, seriously – more pathetic than Caution.
Smith: *ahem* Alright, I’m back to business now. Tonight is going to be a great night! Well, maybe not for Caution.
Hood: You say he’s a former champion?
Smith: Yes, Hardcore champion.
Hood: Must have been a weak division
Smith: OCW never has weak divisions, Hood!
~Rebel pulls Caution up and whips him into the ropes. Caution, exhaustedly battered just sort of spills through the ropes. Rebel stands in the middle of the ring with his hands on his hips. Scruff flies through the ropes to check on Caution~
Hood: Did he die?
Smith: I think he’s just severely fatigued
Hood: Okay, good…because we’ve only been back for a month or so…way too early for anybody to be dying on us.
Smith: I kind of feel like dying
Hood: Huh?
Smith: She’s yet to reply…
Hood: DUDE…you sent that like five minutes ago, chill the fuck out.
~They bring Caution a chair. He takes a seat in it. Rebel approaches the ropes and looks down, shaking his head. Caution looks over at Scruff and asks for a bottle of water. Scruff heads over to grab one. The rest of OCW security backs away, seeing that Caution probably isn’t going to die…probably not~
Hood: Scruff is all over this shit. Makes sense, Caution has that sorta homeless look going
Smith: I think I need to send another text…maybe that last one didn’t go through.
Hood: Trust me, it went through. If you don’t’ stop spazzing, I’m taking that phone away.
Smith: Okay…okay…I’ll relax……..
~Rebel leans through the ropes, looking at Scruff who finds a few pieces of popcorn. He bends over and picks them up. He eats them. He then continues for the water. Caution stands and grabs the chair, he folds it up and holds it back. Rebel turns and looks at Caution with his head and shoulders sticking out between the top and middle ropes. Caution waffles him with the chair!!! Rebel stands up straight, teeters and falls onto his back. Caution puts the chair down. Scruff returns with the water. Caution takes a sip and looks at Scruff, “I feel so much better!” Caution runs into the ring. Scruff hurries to keep up. Caution covers Rebel…Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!!
Smith: A near fall there for Caution!
Hood: Ahhh, so that’s how he won the Hardcore Title. It makes sense. He may not be athletic or in any kind of athletic shape…but he’s fucking crazy.
Smith: Wily, I think is the term you’re looking for.
~Caution slaps the mat. He refocuses and gets right on top of Rebel punching him in the face repeatedly. Rebel finally shoves Caution away and rolls onto his stomach. Caution grabs Rebel by the hair and repeatedly slams him, face first into the mat. Caution climbs on top of Rebel and hooks in a Camel Clutch!! He modifies the hold a bit, using one arm and then uses the other to punch Rebel in the head. Scruff asks Rebel if he’s had enough. Rebel, in a very rebellious tone, yells “NO!”~
Smith: *sounds of clicking*
Hood: Man, Caution is fucking mean. He’s like one of those stupid dinosaurs from Jurassic Park or whatever…looks all harmless and then just fucks your shit up.
Smith: ….
Hood: What the hell are you doing?
Smith: Sorry! Sorry…just had to send one more, just to make sure the first one went through.
Hood: You need help man, seriously
~Caution grows frustrated, places both hands on the back of Rebel’s head and plants his face into the mat. Rebel groans and grabs his face. Caution gets to his feet and heads outside. He grabs his chair. He re-enters the ring. Scruff stops him from reaching Rebel. Caution seems confused~
Smith: Somebody needs to tell the former Hardcore Champion he can’t bring a chair into this match.
Hood: I guess that fucker only knows one speed
Smith: Fast?
Hood: Sure as shit wouldn’t call it fast. Maybe off road?
Smith: That’s more of a terrain
Hood: Eh, whatever…I hate talking about cars anyway
~Rebel crawls to his feet. His face isn’t busted…but it’s pretty red and worn. He leans against the ropes, opposite of Caution and Scruff. He heads that way. Caution rips the chair from Scruff. Scruff looks ready to disqualify Caution. Rebel grabs the chair before Caution can hit him. They wrestle for the chair. Caution dives in, head first and head butts the chair into the chin of Rebel!!! Rebel lets go and staggers back. Caution lets go as well…the chair falls innocuously to the outside. Caution holds onto the top rope, swaying back…about to fall. He regains a semblance of composure…steps through the ropes and spears Rebel to the mat!! Caution covers Rebel, sloppily and Scruff counts~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!
Smith: Another kickout…I can only assume Scruff didn’t call for the DQ for…well, one of two reasons
Hood: The fact that he’s a no good dirty bum?
Smith: In so many words, yes, that would be one of them. The other being Caution kind of hurt himself as much as he did Rebel with his act.
Hood: If I were Rebel, I’d be pissed. Caution is sort of infringing upon his persona.
Smith: Well, I mean…
Hood: And, if we’re talking names anyway…why the fuck is this guy named Caution? He just headbutted a chair into his opponents face. That doesn’t exactly SCREAM Caution to me.
Smith: Maybe he’s a walking oxymoron.
Hood: Hmm, yea, I could see that…the guy is a moron and he probably needs painkillers to get through the day.
Smith: That’s not what I meant
~Caution staggers to his feet and backs into a corner, waiting for Rebel to rise. Rebel finally does. He’s got some slight swelling in his face as a result of the accumulation of damage. Caution sprints toward Rebel. He goes for a spinning heel kick…for some fucking reason. He barely gets any lift. Rebel, however, catches him! Rebel cradles him, lifts him up, onto his shoulders and drills him into the mat with a DVD!! Caution flattens out while Rebel sits up, blinking and shaking his head~
Hood: I think Caution has brain damage. It looks like he thought he was a lightweight for a second there.
Smith: YES!
Hood: Huh? Oh, cool, you’re coming around and finally agreeing with me.
Smith: Oh no, not that. Whatever you said I’m sure was hideous hyperbole. I’m talking about my phone…she text back!
Hood: Well whoop-dee-freakin-doo
~Rebel gets to his feet. He pulls Caution up and whips him into a corner. Caution hits hard. Rebel sprints in with a huge running clothesline!! Caution is squished. Rebel knees Caution in the gut, doubling him over. He drags Caution into the middle of the ring and double underhooks his arms. He drops him, over his knee with a Double Underhook Backbreaker!! Caution arches his back in pain. Rebel forces his shoulders down with a pin attempt~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Hood: Those pain killers must be kicking in because Caution keeps kicking the fuck out. Hey…hey, lover boy…Mr. Play by Play…get your face away from that phone.
Smith: Okay, I’m finally done. Sorry, folks…but great news, the ex and I are meeting for coffee next week!
Hood: Really? Just like that…you’re sure that’s her number?
Smith: Mhmm…Detective Jack Puffer located it for me.
Hood: Oh geezus
~Rebel pops to his feet. He stands back, waiting for Caution. Caution slowly reaches his feet, bent over, gasping for air. Rebel runs, jumps and drops Caution, face first into the mat with Rebel Rouser(Fameasser)!!! Rebel heads for the nearest corner~
Smith: The Rebel Rouser! That’s the set up for Revolution!
Hood: The old man did his best but, he’s fucking old.
Smith: It’s his first match back, cut the guy some slack.
Hood: He’s fifty-one, he should be drinking a bottle of shine on a front porch down south somewhere listening to classic rock with a steady stream of porno on his phone while all jacked up on Viagra. He shouldn’t be wrestling.
Smith: For all you kids watching…that’s now how most grandfather’s act. So, don’t be afraid of yours the next time you see them.
~Rebel reaches the top and steadies. He flies off with the 450 splash. Caution lifts his knees!!! Rebel’s abdomen is crushed!!! Caution holds onto Rebel and in a shockingly seamless transition, rolls him into a small package!! Scruff makes the count as the shocked crowd jumps to their feet~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!!!
Smith: WHOA!!
Hood: The old man nearly pulled it off!
Smith: I did not see that coming
Hood: Neither did Rebel, apparently
~Caution gets to his feet and hobbles around a bit. Rebel is on one knee, stunned. Caution pulls him to his feet and hooks him for his patented finisher, The Hammer Drill! Rebel elbows Caution in the head a few times. Caution weakens…Rebel twirls Caution around, grabs his head and drops him with Rebel Yell(Scorpion Death Drop)!!! Rebel rushes to the corner this time, a bit battered and wobbly…but his adrenaline is spiked. He jumps to the top turnbuckle, showing agility of a lightweight. He leaps off with the 450 Splash and connects!!! Rebel hooks both legs as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and the crowd jumps to their feet with applause. Rebel gets his arm raised~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….REBEL!!!!!
Smith: Rebel wins with Revolution!! He’s now 3-0…I think it’s time he gets a serious look at some gold.
Hood: Maybe…I mean he did just beat a fifty year old grandpa…so let’s not get too excited.
Smith: Caution is a former OCW Hardcore Champion…I don’t care what his age says, that’s a tough competitor Rebel just defeated.
Hood: Well, if he was all doped up on pain killers then, yea, that was a better win than it seems.
Smith: Rebel is going to be a major player, just wait and see. Let that sink in…and, while it does, let’s head backstage!
AKB: Hey, you…this restaurant here. Do you know where it’s located?
~Coe doesn’t hear the question. He rips his arm away~
Tatum Coe: Can’t you incessant interviewers leave me alone for one second? Yea, so maybe Annie and I formed some kind of bond before, during, and after our match. But is that really any of your business, I don’t think so!
~AKB continues texting with Who’Re~
AKB: Yea, see, it’s right in this area here. I’ve got a friend there, I think I may need to show up and bail her out of a jam.
Tatum Coe: Oh, you want more of an answer, do you? You TMZ wannabes are all the same. You know, when a man comes to the realization that he’s in an unwinnable situation…it’s time that man makes a change. I’ve been listening to the wrong people. Finally, some truth has seeped in and I’m heading in another direction. That direction is…
~Annie grabs him by the arm~
Annie Alvarez: Shut up. Let’s go.
~Coe turns and leaves with Annie. They hop into the limo and drive away. AKB is left holding his phone~
AKB: That fucking guy was clueless. Hmm…if I were taking a whore out to dinner, where would I go?
~AKB just kind of wanders off, taking a hit off his cigarette. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: The strange return of Annie Alvarez continues. Tatum Coe has bought into whatever she's selling...
Hood: The power of the pussy, Smith. It makes powerful men do some very strange things
Smith: Seems to be more than that you cretin! If I didn't know any better...I'd say...
Hood: What? You'd say what, exactly?
Smith: Nothing. *ahem* let's get back to the action. Alice Knight is scheduled to face Lance Savage in a few minutes...but first, I'm told we need to mention an exciting new sponsorship!!
~Smith pauses. He stutters a bit~
Hood: You strokin’ out over there, pal?
Smith: Uh, no…it’s just a weird sponsor.
~Smith clears his throat and regains his professional nature~
Smith: Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight’s show is brought to you by…Owls.
Hood: OWLS?
Smith: Yes, Owls. Owls…the true watchers of the nights. Nothing is wiser than an owl. Own an owl today by signing up with ProtectOwls.com and for only a dime a day you will feed and protect your very own Owl.
Hood: A dime may be pretty worthless these days…but, still, it’s too much for that shit.
Smith: I’m told we have a very special visitor tonight, Hood.
Hood: Oh, this could be really cool.
Smith: Say hello to Owlie the Owl!
~A person dressed as an Owl emerges at the top of the ramp. It’s a pretty cheap owl suit. It throws one arm into the air. The crowd yells “OWL” it throws the second arm into the air “IS” and kicks with its foot “NIGHT!!” The Owl panders to the crowd with high fives, hugs, and selfies~
Smith: Owlie the Owl is here representing the union OCW has formed with PTO. This partnership is invested in owl recognition.
Hood: This is so fucking gay.
Smith: And, for every special OCW edition of Owlie the Owl doll you purchase, five cents goes toward protecting the owls. As you can see, this tiny owl is wearing the new Alice Knight t-shirt.
Hood: I fucking hate owls now. I never thought I’d get to a point in my life where I’d hate a bird. But it’s happened. I hate owls.
Smith: Well, Owlie is just going to pal around with the crowd for the rest of the evening, so you fans all enjoy that. As for us…we’ve got a show to move on with.
Hood: I’ve never been so happy to call a wrestling match in my life.
Smith: That's great news because up next we've got Lance Savage taking on...Alice Knight!
Hood: Oh geezus...bring back the fucking owl!
Smith: Let's go down to ringside
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall…
~”Underground” by Evermore begins to play. Lance Savage emerges from behind the curtain and slowly makes his way to the ring. He enters and heads to a corner, awaiting the arrival of his opponent~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Parts Unknown, standing 6’6 and weighing in at 250lbs…”The Demon” Lance Savage!!!
~”Electrified" by Dressy Bessy begins to play as the fans turn and cheer. 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. The crowd begins an ‘OWL! IS! NIGHT!” chant. She goes along with it as her music fades out~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Bethel, New York…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs…Alice Knight!!!
~The bell rings. Alice aids in a few more chants before turning her focus on Savage. Savage is in his corner, staring her down with his one eye~
Smith: Lance Savage seems unmoved by this tremendous reaction!
Hood: He’s reacting, Smith. He’s rolling his eye.
Smith: No he’s not
Hood: No, no, not THAT eye. The one under the patch. You see, he wears that patch so he can conceal his true emotions that are held within that eye.
Smith: No, Hood. He wears that patch because he’s MISSING an eye
Hood: I have my doubts
~Savage heads for the center of the ring. Alice is near the ropes, waving at fans. She turns and sees Savage waiting on her. She hesitantly walks toward him. The size difference is incredible. Savage towers over Alice. He looks down at her with his…one eye. Alice scratches her hair and seems a bit nonplussed. She reaches up for the eye patch~
Smith: Be careful Alice!
Hood: I guess she wants to see what’s under that patch.
Smith: Curiosity can be a dangerous thing, Hood.
Hood: I so hope there’s another eye patch underneath. That would be great.
Smith: No, that would not be great…it would be a total let down.
~Alice grazes the patch. Savage shoves her back. He charges at her with a clothesline. Alice ducks and hooks the left leg of Savage. She goes to her knee and digs some elbows into the back of the knee, chopping the big man down. He falls to both knees and Alice quickly cinches in a leg lock. She turns and turns on the leg with the pressure focused squarely on the knee joint. Savage is in pain as he tries to grab the bottom rope~
Smith: Smart move by Alice…a man that size, she needs to work on his base.
Hood: I’ll never give her credit for anything relating to her brain.
Smith: Jerk
Hood: But, if you think about it. This is a pretty even match. You have a guy with one eye and a girl with half a brain.
~Savage reaches the ropes. Scruff asks Alice, nicely, to let go. Alice does and Savage lets go of the ropes and tries to get to his feet. As he does, Alice goes right back to that leg, cinching in the hold yet again. Savage remains on his feet, grimacing with part pain and part annoyance. He drags Alice near the ropes and swings the leg she’s attached to, under the bottom rope. His leg is hanging out with Alice wrapped around it twisting and twisting. Savage jiggles his leg, but she won’t leg go. Finally, he slides under the rope and his left foot stomps into the gut of Alice as it hits the ground. Alice lets go and rolls around, holding her abdomen~
Smith: Well, that will break a hold. Poor Alice
Hood: Lance Savage deserves humanitarian of the CENTURY for what he just did
Smith: And why is that?
Hood: He might have just disabled the baby making capabilities of Alice Knight which means, no little Alice Knights…that’s like the equivalent of inoculating half a million starving babies.
Smith: I don’t really understand that logic. But to wish such a thing on a person is incredibly crass.
Hood: That’s what watching Alice Knight does to me, Smith. It turns me from a happy go lucky, positive, like everyone kind of guy into…well, this.
~Alice coughs and rolls onto her side. Savage grabs a handful of hair and picks her up with ease. He hoists her over his shoulder and stares the post down with…one eye. He sprints for it, looking to spear Alice. Alice wiggles and falls off his shoulder. Savage runs into the post, ramming his left shoulder with force. Alice hops over the steps. The post is in between her and Savage. She grimaces a bit, still in pain from the stomp. She points at Savage and wipes her forehead clean, playing to the crowd. They give her a round of applause. Savage reaches over, grabs her right arm and pulls. Alice’s body slams into the post! She crumbles to the ground, holding her right shoulder in pain~
Smith: You have to give it to Alice Knight, she loves her fans!
Hood: Will you quit praising every fucking thing she does? She was showing up Lance Savage and, unfortunately for Alice, she was within sight of his…one eye.
Smith: She did take her eye…
Hood: What? Why’d you stop?
Smith: The eye puns! I can’t escape them…stop talking about Lance Savage and his, ya know, disability.
Hood: Only if you’ll stop gushing over Alice
Smith: Well I’m not going to make a promise I can’t keep
~Savage walks over Alice and grabs her by the hair again. He lifts her up, over his shoulder and tosses her into the ring, through the ropes. Alice rolls into the middle of the ring, holding her shoulder in pain. Savage climbs up the steps and gets into the ring. With more than a hint of nonchalance, Savage stands over Alice and bends over to pull her to her feet. She goes for his knee…he kicks her away. Alice crawls between his legs. Savage tries to stop her, but can’t. He turns around but, before he can, she rolls him up. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: She nearly stole one there with a crafty roll up!!
Hood: Crafty? Are we sure she didn’t see a stray cat in the crowd and was trying to crawl to it?
Smith: I think her cat phase is over, Hood.
Hood: Her cat phase will never be over. She’s going to be the old cat lady haunting OCW twenty years from now.
Smith: Take that back!
~Savage is quick to his feet. Alice is nearly as quick to hers. Alice runs into the ropes, she bounces off and tries to spear Savage. Savage, however, is too big. He grabs her around the waist and lifts her up for a powerbomb~
Smith: Oh no!!
Hood: Slam her into the mat you one eyed bastard!
Smith: Hey!
Hood: Sorry, my bad. I have no idea if he’s a bastard or not. Probably is though…he has that look about him…in that eye of his.
~Alice punches Savage in the head. She head butts him. His legs wobble. He lets her go. Alice lands on the mat and knees Savage in the gut. Savage doubles over. She hooks Savage and drills him into the mat with The Apache!! She turns Savage over and covers him~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and Alice hops to her feet. The crowd goes wild~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…Ow…urgh, damnit…ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: Belvedere cursed!
Hood: Yea because that owl shit is fucking up his performance.
Smith: I find it endearing
Hood: What that a man fucks up on the job? I’m glad you aren’t running this place
~Alice hops out of the ring and she grabs a handful of Owl Is Night owl dolls. She tosses them into the crowd and hands them to fans. The giant, fat fan from earlier with the duct taped t-shirt walks up, begging for one. Alice pirouettes away from him and goes in the opposite direction~
Hood: What a bitch!
Smith: Oh please, that fan is greedy, if you ask me. She’s just spreading the wealth.
Hood: A regular fucking Robin Hood, huh?
Smith: That is a great analogy, Hood!
Hood: Zeus kill me now!
Smith: Folks…it’s been a great night. We’re riding a wave of enthusiasm right now, after watching Alice Knight dismantle Lance Savage. But…it’s almost time for the match that some say is going to set the tone for OCW 2017. Before we get to it…let’s head backstage.
~Alice reaches the top of the ramp with one owl doll left. Scruff skulks past her, heading to the back for some water or something. She gives it to her homeless friend. Scruff thanks her and says “I’ll treasure this forever.” Alice smiles, gives him a friendly hug and exits. Scruff hops of the ramp and quickly sells it to a fan for five dollars~
Hood: Can you believe what we just saw?
Smith: Personally, I’m shocked.
Hood: Some idiot paid five bucks for the lamest doll ever.
Smith: Well, I was referencing Scruff’s faux pas sincerity towards Alice’s generosity. But, it’s hard to argue five bucks being a bit steep for that doll. Regardless…let’s head backstage…
Eastern European: Move out my way! I have work to be doing!
~The security member leans his head downward and speaks into a device attached around his collar~
Security: Mr. Welsh, there’s some strange guy trying to get into your office.
Marcus Welsh: Does he have long hair and a melting face?
Security: Affirmative
Marcus Welsh: Send him in
~The security member steps to the side and permits entry. EE doesn’t seem too fazed by any of this. He steps inside. Welsh is seated at EE’s desk, signing what looks to be a contract. The name of the talent to which it belongs is blurred~
Marcus Welsh: What is it? I’m pretty busy, as you can see. We just secured another huge name.
Eastern European: Oh, I sorry for interrupting. I just was coming to office for event is main. Should be great!
Marcus Welsh: No, no…this is my office. You just borrow it when I’m not around.
Eastern European: Oh, okay.
~Welsh places the contract into the fax machine and sends it to the unknown talent. EE looks around, anxiously. His angst overcomes equanimity and he speaks~
Eastern European: Good news is tonight! We re-sign former champion named Brianna.
Marcus Welsh: Who?
Eastern European: The casablancas! She return tonight!
Marcus Welsh: What, like the movie? Please do not tell me you are airing an eighty year old black and white movie in that arena…
Eastern European: No, no, the wrestler! She very attractive and strong willed. I think she do great things.
Marcus Welsh: Oh…yea I haven’t seen any of tonight’s show. I just got here. But that sounds fine, I guess. Whatever works. We just need to settle this Grenier deal.
Eastern European: Oh, do not worry about the Grande. He is no allowed to come into the building tonight. In fact, I may set fire to him before next week.
Marcus Welsh: Listen, that country above us, Canada…you’ve heard of it, right?
Eastern European: Absolutely!
Marcus Welsh: Turns out there’s more than a few thousand people living up there and, well, they were really angry about Grenier’s suspension.
Eastern European: So? We send them Owl is Night t-shirts and dolls? That make them happy?
Marcus Welsh: No. From what I understand, that would probably make the situation worse. We have a public image to maintain. So we can’t just blatantly screw this guy.
Eastern European: Make him special ref? That way he at least in the ring during match?
Marcus Welsh: Again, no. We’ve got to set up a scenario with an unlikely positive outcome for Grenier. That way, when he fails, our hands are clean. The only person to blame for his exclusion would be, well, himself.
Eastern European: I don’t know about that. I try that already and he win. I think we better off keeping him hanging in the air.
Marcus Welsh: Just listen to me, okay? Let’s do a gauntlet match…I’m told that’s one of those deals where he has to win several matches in a row. Require him to win each match in order to regain entry into the triple threat. And…put PerZag in as special ref.
Eastern European: The PerZag? Why not the Owl is Night?
Marcus Welsh: Because, PerZag will understand that keeping Grenier out of that triple threat is in his best interest. Alice…well, I don’t really understand her motivations and you can’t predict what a person like that may or may not do.
Eastern European: Okay, I think I got it. Grenier run gamblet and if he win he back in match. The PerZag referee gamblet and will jam Grenier in ass, keeping him from match. Right?
Marcus Welsh: In so many words – yes.
Eastern European: Terrific! This is great news! I go take care of it now!
~Welsh nods as EE exits the office. We cut back to the announce booth~
Smith: Big announcement there, Hood. If Grenier can run the gauntlet then he will be reinstated into the triple threat!
Hood: Too bad that’s not happening. My sources have already told me who he’s going to have to face in the gauntlet.
Smith: Really? Who are they?
Hood: In no particular order they are going to be The Big Bifford, Andy Murray, Silverfreak, Scorpion, and Lurrr.
Smith: Oh my…yea, that’s going to be a tall order.
Hood: Not to mention PerZag is going to screw the shit out of him so, yea, Grenier might as well run back to Canada and run for mayor…or whatever they call their politicians.
Smith: You think he’d win?
Hood: It’s Canada so, sure.
Smith: interesting. Well folks, that’s coming up just a little bit later and, given the list of names Hood has revealed, the situation looks bleak for Bob Grenier and Canada.
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the Gauntlet Match. If Bob Grenier survives the gauntlet he will be reinstated into the OCW Title match at next week’s Massacre. Introducing first, the special referee…PerZag!!
~The lights of the arena go out. All that is seen is a small glow of light from the entrance ramp. ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ by Survivor starts to play over the PA system. 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 centre of it. He slowly removes the hood and the crowd gives a mixed reaction to him. 'Eye Of The Tiger' by Survivor stops playing as PerZag walks over to a corner in the ring. He unzips the hoodie and drops it out of the ring revealing an OCW referee shirt underneath~
Belvedere: And now the man who will be running the gauntlet. He hails from Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…Bob Grenier!!!
~Our currently suspended and former OCW Champion Bob Grenier slowly makes his way to the ring without music. He wears a scowl, as a man who has been held down by the company he once believed in would. Grenier climbs into the ring and grabs a microphone~
Bob: I refuse to apologize for the things I've said.. OCW management is playing favorites and you're stupid if you believe otherwise. Taking me out of the match next week, and suspending me has put an entire country in turmoil. The economy is collapsing, back home they are burning police cars and effigies of Jimmy Buffet. It's in OCW's best interest to reinstate me and place me back into the triple threat. Whatever I have to do, Let's just fucking do it.
Belvedere: Introducing his first opponent….Richard!!!
~He throws down the mic and all of a sudden "In Too Deep" by Sum 41 begins to play and Richard makes his way down the aisle throwing kicks and punches at the air. This is the old Richard, Not the crazy dog food eating Richard that emerged after Grenier sunk his hooks into him in the summer of 2015. Richard climbs into the ring and is immediately crushed with a Grenier left hand. Richard is out cold. Grenier makes the count and PerZag appears to have something in his eye~
Smith: That's just convenient now isn't it. I may not like some of the things he's said, but Grenier appears to be getting shafted this evening.
Hood: Shafted? The man had something in his eye. PerZag will call this right down the middle.
Smith: Sure he will. By the way, Hood…I didn’t hear Richard’s name on your list.
Hood: Hey, don’t you worry, the other four are sure to come. Just relax.
~Grenier gets up and backs PerZag into the corner, Zag points to his stripes and reminds Grenier who the referee is and smiles, He pushes Grenier and Richard has come to, just enough to roll Grenier up with a small package. Grenier kicks out a 1 and picks Richard off the mat, Nailing him with The Chula Vista Dirt Bomb. Grenier goes for the cover and PerZag is now jawing back and forth with the crowd. Grenier gets up, turns PerZag around and goes for the cover, PerZag, Ever so gingerly drops to his knee's and makes the longest 1 count anyone has ever seen! Richard kicks out, It had to have taken PerZag 10 seconds to make that count and Grenier is livid! Shaking his head, he hops out of the ring and puts on a headset~
Grenier: Hood, Smith.. You guys see the goddamn bullshit I'm being forced to deal with? Someone tell me again how OCW managment doesn't play favorites! This is a goddamn travesty.
~Grenier throws down the headset and slides back into the ring. He picks Richard up and hits another Dirt Bomb. PerZag reluctantly counts the three. Grenier get's up shaking his head in disbelief as he awaits his next opponent~
Belvedere: Introducing his next opponent…ummm….Owlie the Owl!!
~"OWL IS NIGHT" appears on the big screen and the Alice Knight Owl Mascot soars down to the ring. Grenier stretches out his hands, not knowing what is happening. He smacks the Owl and knocks it down, Hit's it with an elbow drop and picks the Owl back up. Owlie The Owl goes crazy and starts flapping it's wings, hitting Grenier in the face several times. PerZag sticks out his foot and Grenier trips and falls to the mat. PerZag casually steps on both of Grenier's wrists so he cannot move. Grenier struggles to free himself and Owlie The Owl climbs the top rope, He hits a huge splash on Grenier! The Owl flys around the ring celebrating as Grenier makes his way back to his feet. Pissed off, Grenier rips the head off, exposing the poor guy underneath, It's Larry The OCW Superfan! Grenier hits a clothesline, taking the Owlie The Owl down. He mounts him and starts pouring down lefts and rights in a rage, Grenier rips one of the wings off the costume and continues assaulting the Owl. Grenier lifts him up into a Hollinger Park Hangman and drops him viciously. Bob covers the Owl, and PerZag laughs as this time he just refuses to count. Frustrated, Grenier slams his fists into the mat and get's in PerZags face again. PerZag drops him with a punch and The Owl goes for the cover, PerZag counts a really fast 2 and Grenier kicks out. Grenier grows even more furious as he picks up the Owl again, dropping him with a 2nd Hangman. Grenier grabs a mic~
Grenier: PerZag, do the goddamn job you were appointed to do, before this poor Choad get's hurt.
~Grenier throws down the mic and locks the Owl in a Fujiwara Arm Bar. The Owl taps and screams in pain. Grenier rolls the Owl out of the ring, and all of a sudden a masked man in a cape descends from the ceiling, right in front of a surprised Grenier. The masked man hits a series of knife edge chops and throws Grenier into the ropes, He back body drops him and immediately hits a standing shooting star press~
Smith: Whoever that is, sure is no slouch. Grenier has a real test now.
~The masked man kicks Grenier in the stomach a few times, picks him and snapmares him, he locks in a chokehold and begins to wear Grenier down. PerZag begins kicking Bob in the ribs~
Smith: How is this even fair? It's 2 against one this whole "match"
Hood: Looked to me like his foot slipped, thats all.
~The masked man picks Bob up and hits a code breaker. While Grenier is on the ground the man pulls off his mask and the crowd eats it up~
Smith: IT'S CURT CANON! IT'S OCW LEGEND CURT CANON!
Hood: I did not foresee this. Last time we saw Curt was actually against Bob Grenier in the semi finals of the Western Title Tournament.
Smith: So…we’ve had Richard, Owlie and now Canon…I think your list was BS
Hood: You doubting my source?
Smith: Yes, I believe I am
Hood: Well I’m going to tell Scruff you said that
~Curt soaks up the adulation of the crowd as Grenier makes his way behind him. Grenier turns Canon around and kicks him in the stomach. Grenier goes for a DDT but Canon reverses it into a back suplex with a bridge. PerZag counts a fast 2 and Grenier kicks out. Grenier makes his way to his feet and whips Canon into the ropes, Curt ducks under the bottom rope, jumps to the top and hits Grenier with a missile drop kick~
Smith: Canon looks Great! He's really taking it to Grenier.
~Grenier is down and Canon climbs to the top rope, He hits Grenier with a Swanton Bomb and covers him for just a 2. Canon picks up Grenier for a suplex but Grenier floats over, once he is behind Canon, Grenier locks in a crossface chicken wing and sinches it in deep. Canon is tapping but PerZag is now tying his shoe~
Smith: Perzag is the worst referee I've ever seen in my life.
Hood: Hey, He was just tying his boot! 34 people a year die from accidents related to untied foot wear.
Smith: Well that doesn't seem right.
Hood: Don't ever doubt my journalistic integrity Smith.
~Grenier gets in PerZags face yet again and Canon rolls up Grenier for 2. Grenier kicks out and angrily begins stomping Canon. He picks Curt up and hits him with 2 hangmans before PerZag will finally make the three count. Canon exits the ring and immediately the lights go out~
Smith: Oh what now?!
Hood: Buffet forgot the hydro bill. Too many Margaritas down in Margaritaville.
~The lights come back up and Grenier is face to face with THE LOCKWOOD PARTY. Tom hit's a leg sweep, and perched on the top Jack hits a 450 splash. They pick Grenier up and hit him with a Magic Killer. PerZag laughs as Grenier is now having his ass handed to him. The Lockwoods deliver numerous kicks and punches. Tom and PerZag hold Grenier down and Jack climbs the top rope, Hitting another 450. They toss Grenier outside of the ring and head first into the steel steps. Grenier is busted open. They throw him back in the ring and Tom starts hammering on the cut while Jack stomps away. PerZag has taken off his referee shirt and he begins choking Grenier with it. The three of them continue to assault Grenier. PerZag is directing traffic. PerZag climbs outside of the ring and looks underneath, throwing 2 chairs in the ring. He takes a seat on the top turnbuckle to watch~
Smith: This is getting out of hand. Grenier is clearly hurting.
~The Lockwood's stand up a groggy Grenier and each take a chair to a side of his skull, knocking him out. Jack Lockwood places the same chair around Grenier's arm and stomps it hard, a sickening noise can be heard clear as day. The Lockwoods laugh as they go for a cover but for some reason, PerZag doesn't count Bob down this time! PerZag flips off both Lockwoods and hits them each with THE WORTHIEST MOVE OF THEM ALL. He places a completely unconscious and battered Grenier's arm across The Lockwoods and counts 3, declaring Grenier the winner~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the man who is re-instated into the OCW Title Triple Threat Match for next week….BOB GRENIER!!!!!
Hood: What the hell just happened? So Grenier is back in the main event?
Smith: I think I just figured this out. PerZag knows Alice is the favorite and he knows he needs Grenier but a 100% Healthy Grenier is very tough to beat, So why not weasel your way into refereeing the match and prolong your opponents suffering? Grenier is clearly not 100%. His arm could be broken.
Hood: Smartest man in wrestling! PerZag is a genius!
~Grenier and The Lockwoods are all laid out on the mat as PerZag makes his way up the ramp, pointing to his head and motioning that he will be champion as the crowd chants lovingly for Grenier to get up. Grenier makes his way to his knee's, clutching his injured arm as the crowd cheers~
Smith: It would appear that PerZag is the smartest man in the building tonight.
Hood: He also saved all those really cold states from a Canadian invasion.
Smith: I don’t think Canada was that upset.
Hood: Oh, believe you me…I heard they were already stocking up on pots and pans…they were definitely ready to invade.
Smith: Whatever…but I will agree that PerZag showed great intelligence and savvy while refereeing that match. Alice Knight has the company solidly behind her. They don’t want to see PerZag win next week any more than they want to see Grenier reclaim the title. So he knows he may need some help in overcoming that disadvantage. If you noticed, PerZag was fine screwing over Bob until he was in real danger of losing.
Hood: Yep…plus, like you said, they fucked up the arm Grenier masturbates with so he’s going to be all backed up and foggy come next Monday.
Smith: All I said was it appeared his shoulder was hurt…you’re putting words into my mouth.
Hood: Ah, good point, I guess he could get a blow job. That would clear the pipes.
Smith: I didn’t say that either! Geez…but, yea, folks…it appears as though the triple threat is back on! Next week, in our main event it will be Alice Knight against Bob Grenier against PerZag in a Two Consecutive Falls Match for the OCW Title.
Hood: Two consecutive falls match?
Smith: Yep, I just received that information over my headset. Basically, in order to win, you have to score two consecutive pinfalls or submissions. So, let’s say Alice pins Grenier…
Hood: You would use that analogy
Smith: Okay, fine, let’s say Grenier pins PerZag
Hood: How about PerZag breaks Alice’s arm, making her submit.
Smith: Fine! Let’s say that happens…then PerZag would need to pin or submit her or Grenier before either one pins or submits someone else in order to win. If Grenier were to then toss PerZag out of the ring and pin Alice, PerZag would lose his pinfall and Grenier would be one decision away from being declared winner.
Hood: Hmm, sounds kind of weird…but I’m sure it will be alright.
Smith: Indeed! Well folks…our main event is on the horizon…let’s head backstage while we clean up the carnage around ringside.
Marcus Welsh: Okay, gentlemen…and Ashley. I’ve been informed that the Eastern European enlisted your services of protection this evening. I’m going to trust that he did a fine job. You have one job and one job only. Keep the masked man from interfering in tonight’s contest. I don’t care what you have to do or how you have to do it. I do not want to see that masked man anywhere near the ring once that bell sounds, do you understand?
~They all nod~
Marcus Welsh: I understand The Incredible One has already given you a generous payment. If the night goes off without any complications then I will double it. Now, get to work. I know he’s around here. Find him and bring him to me.
~They nod and head off, looking for The Masked Man. Welsh returns to his office. We stick with the security guards. They are murmuring amongst themselves, looking high and low for a masked man. Suddenly, one of them is cracked in the back of the head with a chair!~
Smith: Oh my gosh! Hood, the security team is being assaulted!
Hood: Well, that sucks
~The remaining five turn around to find The Masked Man!! He drills another in the head, taking him out. Four remain. They throw kicks and punches, but the Masked Man dodges them and hits another in the head, knocking him out. They are down to three. The Masked Man drills a fourth in the gut before jamming the top of the chair into the back of his head, knocking him out. Two are left. Ashley is one of them. She throws a super kick. The Masked Man dodges it and hits the other guard with the chair, knocking him out. It’s down to the Masked Man and Ashley. Ashley sees this and quickly puts her hair in pig tails~
Ashley: Please, sir! I’m just a woman! You wouldn’t hit a woman, would you?
~The Masked Man pauses for a second. But then sees the giant muscles in Ashley’s legs and arms and reaches back, knocking her out with the chair. He stands upright and breathes in. Out of nowhere he is subdued by the faceless men!! They take him down and place him in cuffs. They pull him up. He struggles against their power but is no match. Welsh appears. He reaches up and removes the mask. The crowd gasps~
Smith: It’s…it’s…
Hood: Fucking Caution?
Smith: It’s Caution!
Hood: I have to admit, that’s a big fucking let down.
~Caution spits in the face of Welsh. Welsh calmly wipes it away and nods in the direction of one of the faceless men. The faceless man punches Caution in the head, knocking him out~
Marcus Welsh: Take him down stairs into the holding area. We’ll deal with him after the show.
~They drag Caution off as Welsh looks down at the unconscious, badly beaten security team~
Marcus Welsh: Have the rest of security take them out of here. Drop them off at an ER somewhere. The bill is on them. They are awful security guards…especially that Ashley.
Eastern European: But what about security for match?
Marcus Welsh: The masked man is taken care of. We should be fine. Just do what I tell you, alright?
~The Eastern European nods and gets to work. Welsh heads back for his office. We cut to ringside~
Smith: Well that solves the masked man mystery.
Hood: I will never buy into a masked man mystery every again! Caution? The fifty year old pyromaniac? Fuck
Smith: At least it untangles the main event. Smooth sailing from here on out for what should be a classic encounter. ..if Vargas is in stable condition, mentally.
Hood: We haven’t heard anything from him all night. I hope he didn’t die.
Smith: I’m pretty sure he’s not dead, Hood. That kind of news might have made it to the announce table, don’t you think?
Hood: Shit, you never know around here
Smith: Sad but true…alright folks before the epic main event gets going, I’m being told we have an update on tonight’s romantic tryst!
Hood: Bleh
Nathan: Er… yeah… I’ll have the cheeseburger – but please hold the tomato… The fries… and yeah, a bottle of coke. Thanks. Jon?
Jonathan: Make that two please?
~He winks at the waitress who blushes~
Waitress: Coming right up. Hey aren’t you two the new OCW Tag Champions? The Daniels Boys, right? I was there at the show. You did well.
~Jonathan smiles sweetly~
Jonathan: It’s ‘Dravers’ my dear. Miss…?
Waitress: Wendy.
Jonathan: Cute. Wendy. Wendy the Waitress. Wasn’t there a joke about that somewhere?
Nathan: She’s a character in How I Met Your Mother.
Jonathan: Oh yeah! Well, yes we ARE those same handsome champions. Thank-you for noticing.
~Jonathan winks again and Wendy giggles. Nathan smirks a little~
Wendy: I’ll just get your food.
~Jonathan watches her walk away~
Jonathan: Man. Double date?
Nathan: If Who’re shows up. Sure.
~Moments later, Wendy returns with a couple of cheeseburgers. Jonathan taps her arm as she serves~
Jonathan: Er… Wendy… forgive the forwardness but, what time do you get off tonight?
~Wendy suddenly looks slightly shocked, but cannot deny the attention she’s receiving – especially from one half of the new OCW Tag Team Champions. She smiles and blushes~
Wendy: 11:30. Why?
Jonathan: Perfect. Fancy a drink later?
Wendy: Hehe… Er, aw hell sure! Sure, why not yeah!
~Suddenly Who’re appears at the boys’ table smiling~
Who’Re: Hey…
Nathan: Who’re! Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?
Who’Re: Yeah sure, I’ll have a vodka tonic.
Nathan: Coming right up…
~The twins and Who’re chat for a while~
~Fade out~
~We fade back in to Who’re and Nathan still chatting and laughing. Jonathan has picked up Wendy and they too are chatting…~
Nathan: So…what was it you wanted to chat about?
Who’Re: I was just really flattered by those kind words. People don’t realize this…but it’s not often I get compliments like that.
Nathan: Oh, that’s a shame. I meant every word. You should really receive compliments like that more often.
~Who’Re takes a sip of her drink and smiles, flattered. We fade out. We cut to later in the evening. The Dravers Boys are hopping into their car. They offer Who’Re a ride~
Who’Re: Thanks guys but I’ve got an Uber coming. I really had a great time though. Hope to hear from you soon, Nathan!
~Nathan smiles and gets into the car with his brother. They drive away. As soon as their car exits the parking lot an oldish Mercedes convertible pulls into the lot. AKB is behind the wheel with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a bottle of liquor between his legs. Shades are covering his eyes…he pulls them down and looks at her over the bridge of his nose~
AKB: You ready to go?
Who’Re: I don’t know how you’re able to drive at night with those sunglasses on.
AKB: It’s a skill, whore…a true skill.
~Who’Re gets into the passenger’s seat and stares out the side of the car. Stress is covering her face~
AKB: Relax…you worry too much. Everything is going to be fine.
Who’Re: They are really nice boys…especially Nathan.
AKB: Haha…oh the whore thinks she’s a princess.
Who’Re: Fuck off, Alpha.
~AKB drives out of the lot and back onto the main street. We cut back to the arena~
Smith: That was interesting
Hood: Makes perfect sense to me, Smith.
Smith: Oh and how’s that?
Hood: That’s what happens when you do something as nerdy as calling a girl when you’re both in the same building. You get friend zoned, bro. She enjoyed a nice meal on his dime and now she’s going to go fuck AKB’s brains out.
Smith: I don’t think that’s what’s going on at all.
Hood: Oh you just watch. She’s fucking playing those Dravers Boys
Smith: No she’s not. I think there’s something there.
Hood: Haha, sure…I guess we’ll see
Smith: Well folks before we get to the match of the year...thus far...we have to give one more plug for next week's OCW Title Triple Threat. Alice Knight, Bob Grenier, and PerZag square off in a Two Consecutive Falls Match for the OCW Title. It will be the coronation of the new face of OCW for 2017. Here's a special promo to get you all fired up for next week!
Hood: Or in the case of Alice Knight a few short weeks
Smith: Whatever...enough about next week. We've got an epic match on deck. Folks, up next is our main event. It is one of the biggest matches in OCW history. Vargas and The Incredible One have a heated rivalry that has spanned three years. Surprisingly, this will be the first time they’ve faced one another in OCW.
Hood: The shit talking is over, Smith. Now it’s time for fists to fly!
Smith: Indeed…
Ladder Match
”The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas (1-0) vs. The Incredible One (2-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our MAIN EVENT of the evening…
~We are shown the ring. Four ladders are positioned up against the barricade, one for each side of the ring. We zoom in and see a shiny key hanging from a piece of string. The opening chords of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Needle and the Spoon” controls the sound waves as the crowd erupts into cheers, which is crazy as Vargas is the ultimate heel, but as of recent weeks, has become the anti-hero. And, hated much less than Ian Bishop. Chad Vargas appears from the darkness pushing a wheel barrow down the ramp. The wheel barrow is over filled with random tools. Vargas stops midway and grabs a shovel out of the wheel barrow and uses it as an air guitar, beating his head to Skynyrd~
Hood: HAHA! Chad is BAD! Man ohh man this guy is THE MAN!
Smith: I think he misunderstood the rules for this ladder match.
Hood: Anything goes baby!!! Bring the heat Chad!
~Vargas tosses the shovel back into the wheel barrow and continues wheeling it to the ring. He parks it just outside the ring and walks up the steel steps, under the second rope and climbs into the ring. He then climbs the turnbuckle and raises his arms in the air~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Everclear County, Tennessee…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 245lbs… “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas!!!
~Vargas looks around, he doesn’t see a cage or Cassidy. He talks to Belvedere who just shrugs~
Smith: Vargas is concerned…where is Treat? He’s supposed to be out here.
Hood: Maybe that irresponsible Treat no showed tonight’s event.
Smith: That’s impossible! He’s locked in a friggin cage, Hood!
~A few of the security team members remaining hustle down while Vargas is in the ring. They grab the wheel barrow and all make sure all the tools are inside. They wheel it up the ramp and into the backstage area. The crowd boos them thunderously. Vargas extends his arms and complains to Scruff and Belvedere. He yells out “What the fuck?!”~
Smith: Oh come on! You’d have to be blind not to see what’s going on here.
Hood: They are simply trying to ensure that this match is as clean as possible, Smith. It’s in the name of competition. Good, clean, wrestling…
Smith: Yea, well if they want that they shouldn’t have made the damn thing a ladder match. Or, come to think of it, they probably shouldn’t have abducted a human being
Hood: Hey, shit can get a little out of hand in times of turmoil. The key thing to remember is that now, when it all matters most…they are ensuring no shenanigans take place
Smith: Vargas is going to get screwed. I can feel it
Hood: That sounds gross, man. Stop talking
~The heavy drums of "Honor Thy Father" beat throughout the arena followed by the distorted guitar riffs as The Incredible One steps out from the behind the curtain to a chorus of boos. He smirks, before walking down the ramp yelling at the fans in attendance, and flipping off every single child he sees. He stops at the bottom of the ramp, examining the ring and the local crowd before quickly rolling into the ring and going to the top of a turnbuckle, proclaiming himself to be the greatest wrestler alive. The masked face of Chad Vargas watches with tension in his eyes~
Belvedere: And, his opponent, from…
~Before Belvedere can finish, Vargas rushes TIO and drills him in the lower back with a forearm!! Belvedere hurries out of the ring. TIO nearly tumbles head first over the corner, to the floor. Chad grabs hold of TIO’s legs…TIO is now seated atop Chad’s shoulders…Chad walks backwards into the middle of the ring and drops TIO with an Electric Chair!! TIO arches his back in pain as the fans give Chad a strong ovation. The bell rings~
Smith: Chad Vargas wasn’t going to just stand there and listen to Belvedere.
Hood: The Confederate Icon doesn’t have time for that shit. He wants to beat some ass. It’s just too bad he’s facing The Incredible One.
Smith: Never underestimate Chad Vargas…nobody thought he could reach the Main Event of OCW and, not only did he do just that…but he won the OCW Title.
Hood: Yea but that was AFTER The Incredible One had left…leaving the Main Event scene wide open.
Smith: That’s a weak excuse
~Vargas drops to his knees and he punches TIO in the face. He claws at TIO’s face. He leans over and bites TIO in the forehead! TIO kicks his legs and thumbs Vargas in the eye. Vargas is stunned. TIO rolls to his knees and crawls into a corner, quickly returning to his feet, still taken back by Chad’s aggression~
Smith: He didn’t expect this…he, like all of us, thought Chad was too sick to compete…too traumatized in the head.
Hood: Nah man, I’m telling ya. Guy was shit faced. It’s worn off…he probably had a stack of pancakes OR waffles…I’m not one to judge and he’s right as can be. Well, aside from that Elephant Man look he’s got going on.
Smith: It’s for protection, Hood. His injuries are still very real underneath that plastic protection.
~Vargas pops out of his stance like a sprinter and drills a shoulder into the gut of TIO! TIO’s mouth falls open as he doubles over. Chad drills him in the face with a knee! TIO straightens up with his back slamming into the turnbuckles. Chad hops onto the middle rope and punches away at TIO. The fans try to count but he’s punching so fast they can’t keep up. He leans over and bites TIO in the forehead again. The fans are picking up steam, cheering for his wild actions~
Smith: Turnabout is fair play, Hood. The Incredible One busted Vargas open last week. He’s trying to return the favor.
Hood: That or maybe he didn’t eat those pancakes and is experiencing the drunken munchies.
Smith: That’s gross
~TIO’s arms wrap around the legs of Vargas. He steps out of the corner and lets go. Vargas lands face first across the top buckle with Snake Eyes!!! He falls back onto the ring and grabs his masked face in pain. TIO walks to the ropes and leans on them, checking his head to see if he’d been busted open…all appears to be fine and dry. The fans boo – they were starting to believe in Vargas~
Smith: That’s the problem about wrestling with such reckless abandon…you don’t take stock of your weaknesses or the vulnerability of your position. Chad was so blind by rage that he put himself in a bad spot and now, well, he’s paying for it.
Hood: C’mon, no wrestler thinks THAT much during a match, stop being ridiculous.
Smith: The great ones do
Hood: I doubt Bifford ever did…the man ate food and smoked cigarettes during half his matches.
Smith: Whoever said Bifford was great?
Hood: Take that back!
~TIO walks over to Vargas who is straightening his mask, lying on his side. TIO kicks him in the back. Vargas rolls onto his stomach. TIO stomps on his back, Vargas rolls over, onto his back, protecting it. TIO tries to stomp on Chad’s face, but Chad rolls out of the way and into the ropes. TIO sprints in and slides, kicking Vargas out of the ring! Vargas lands roughly with TIO sitting with the lower half of his body under the bottom rope and the upper half propped atop it, looking very casual~
Smith: He’s in control now and that is bad news for the wounded Chad Vargas.
Hood: It was only a matter of time. I mean every score is tied initially…but then the game starts.
Smith: Vargas had the element of surprise working for him…just a shame he couldn’t keep it going.
Hood: HEY…aren’t you supposed to be impartial?
Smith: I’m just saying…a fair fight would have been nice.
Hood: It is fair Smith. They both have two arms, two legs…two eyes. Now if Lance Savage was in there, you might have a legitimate gripe.
~TIO slides out of the ring and goes after Vargas. He yanks Vargas by the hair and pulls back on his head, staring at the mask. TIO reaches up to remove the mask. Vargas knees him in the groin!! TIO doubles over. Vargas grabs him by the head and drops him with a DDT on the outside! TIO grabs his head in pain. Vargas snares one of the nearby ladders and he holds it upside down. He drills TIO in the back with the top of the ladder!! TIO rolls around, arching his back in pain. Vargas drills him in the gut with it. TIO curls up, holding his abdomen in pain. Vargas slides the ladder into the ring. He pulls TIO to his feet and hurls him into the ring~
Smith: A surprising turn around! Chad Vargas isn’t out of this yet!
Hood: He looks pretty fucking fine to me. I don’t know what everyone was bitching about.
Smith: His injuries, Hood. My goodness, he was beat to a pulp last week. So much so that he had to wear that OCW issued mask.
Hood: There goes his sex life. He won’t be getting laid tonight with that thing on.
Smith: It is cheap, flimsy plastic. You’d think OCW would have given him something sturdier.
Hood: They just want him to be more aerodynamic.
Smith: Since when has Chad Vargas been a high flyer?
Hood: Well, I mean he does have to climb a ladder
~Vargas climbs into the ring and picks up the ladder. He’s holding it by the top with the bottom ‘fat’ end facing out. TIO gets to his feet. Vargas charges at him, drilling the fat end into the gut of TIO. He bullies TIO into the corner and repeatedly backs out and jams the end back into the gut of TIO. TIO’s face shows pain. It turns into frustration. He takes both hands and lifts them up. He brings them down, slamming into the ladder as hard as he’s capable. The top of the ladder shoots up and smacks Vargas in the face!! He falls over and covers his masked face with both hands, rolling around in pain. We see one of the straps used to secure the mask has snapped. TIO grabs the ladder and smiles. He tosses it out, over the top rope with arrogance. He slowly paces toward the flailing body of Vargas~
Smith: And that might have done it
Hood: That will fuck a person up, Smith.
Smith: Indeed…I’m not sure how much protection plastic is against steel.
Hood: Like a really cheap condom…breached after the first thrust.
Smith: I’m pretty sure you have several kids running around, Hood
Hood: Hey, if I don’t know about them, then they don’t exist.
~TIO kicks Vargas over onto his back. We see traces of blood from where he had been laying. TIO bends over and goes after the mask. Vargas tries fighting him off. Vargas kicks his legs. TIO gets his fingers over the top of the mask and he yanks back. We see a thick red good pulling along with the mask, off of Chad’s face. TIO removes the mask and holds it up. It’s slickened with a deep, dark red coloration. TIO tosses the mask out of the ring and goes after Vargas. Vargas tries rolling away, but TIO elbows him in the neck. He pins him to the mat and tries ripping at Chad’s wounds~
Smith: The mask is off…this is getting nasty.
Hood: It looks like Vargas had strawberry sauce on his pancakes…if he ate them, that is.
Smith: That’s gross
~TIO head butts Vargas in the forehead. It leaves a streak of blood across his scalp. TIO wipes it away and flings the excess blood into the face of Vargas. Vargas is trying to cover up, pretty much defenseless. TIO throws some punches at Chad’s face. He places both arms over his face, tightens and doesn’t move, like a turtle in defense mode, almost. TIO grows frustrated and stands~
Smith: And act of self-preservation. There are bigger things at stake in this match…like, avoiding physical mutilation.
Hood: Yea, he could lose an eye and then he’d be forced to walk the Earth as an abomination freaking out his entire family…kind of like Lance Savage.
Smith: What do you have against Lance Savage?
Hood: Fucker let Alice Knight win earlier tonight…for that he should be SHAMED mercilessly.
Smith: Focus on the match going on, not the one from earlier, please.
~TIO pulls Vargas to his feet. Chad ends over, hiding his face. TIO gives him a sharp elbow into the back. Vargas jolts upright. TIO rips his hands away…the face of Vargas is masked with blood. His eyes are barely open as they are flooded with the thick, sticky liquid. TIO smirks and shoves Vargas into the nearest corner. Vargas hits hard and covers his face. TIO kicks him in the stomach. Vargas doubles over. TIO knees him in the face!! Vargas falls through the ropes, landing outside where he remains, motionless and curled up~
Smith: This isn’t a match. It’s decimation.
Hood: Hey, they can’t all be five star classics, Smith
Smith: The Incredible One should do the humane thing. He should grab a ladder and put this one away. Vargas can always challenge again, sometime down the line.
Hood: Yea, but what’s the fun in that? When you’ve got an opponent down, you owe it to yourself to end his career.
Smith: Uhh why?
Hood: Because, one less revenge filled fucker you’ve got to deal with down the line
~TIO exits the ring where Vargas remains. He steps over Vargas and goes for the ladder. He tosses the ladder into the ring. He steps over Vargas again and enters into the ring. He sets the ladder up and looks up at the key. He begins to climb. The fans boo. He stops and looks down at Vargas, who is completely vulnerable. Vargas has wedged the upper half of his body under the ring, shielded by the apron cloth. TIO releases a sigh. He climbs back down, the crowd boos even louder~
Smith: Oh come on!
Hood: Haha, yes! Fuck him up! Turn him into that character from Watchmen…you know the really stupid one that wore that weird white mask all the time.
Smith: You didn’t like that character?
Hood: No way man, his voice was totally gay.
Smith: Right…well Vargas has to be experiencing a bit of déjà vu. That’s the very part of the ring where he fell earlier today while running the ropes.
Hood: At least the fucker is consistent
Smith: I guess
~TIO reaches the outside and he grabs the feet of Vargas. He yanks the upper torso of Vargas out from under the ring. Vargas is lying on his belly, covering his face. TIO pulls him to his feet. Vargas is bent over with his back to TIO. TIO grabs Vargas by the hair, pulling him upright. Vargas turns around and he head butts TIO in the nose!!! TIO stumbles into the barricade, holding his nose…blood rushes down his chin. TIO wiggles his nose and stares at Vargas. Vargas has a new mask on…it’s made of thick, hard metal, the crowd goes wild~
Smith: A new mask!!
Hood: Where the hell did that come from?
Smith: He must have planted it there earlier today…he was fine all along…it was an insurance policy!
Hood: They need to take that mask away…he’s cheating!
Smith: He’s just leveling the odds a bit, Hood. What a genius ploy by the former OCW Champion!
Hood: That nose cost more than all of Everclear County…it’s an Incredible nose…he better not have damaged it.
~TIO yells “You broke my nose you asshole!” Vargas lunges forward with another head butt!! TIO flips over the barricade and lands, roughly, in the crowd. Our camera zooms in as he’s seated up against a few vacated chairs. There is a red slit at the top of his forehead. Blood starts to ooze out of it~
Smith: And now The Incredible One shares a broken nose and gashed forehead!
Hood: Yea but he didn’t have a week to heal like that stupid drunk, waffle eating mother fucker, Chad Vargas.
Smith: Waffles or Pancakes…what is it?
Hood: Well, when he’s looking manly, it’s pancakes. When he’s acting like a bitch, it’s waffles.
Smith: What about banana waffles?
Hood: That’s a level of hatred I’ve yet to discover. Maybe next week at the end of our main event…
Smith: Stop it
~Vargas steps over the barricade and motions for everybody to step back. The crowd gives them a nice human made crescent of space. Vargas pulls TIO to his feet. TIO’s face pretty much matches Vargas…his blood is just a little more recent, therefore thinner, brighter. Vargas hoists TIO onto his shoulders and stands, facing the barricade. He runs toward the barricade and jumps into the air. He clears the barricade with TIO on his shoulders and drills TIO into the floor on the other side with a Rolling Fireman’s Carry Slam!! TIO curls up and faces the barricade, in pain. Vargas slides his ass against the steps and grabs the side of his neck in pain~
Smith: Tremendous move by Chad Vargas! A bit self-destructive and slightly ill conceived…but it certainly took the wind out of The Incredible One. Might have broken a few ribs, too
Hood: What do they call that move Smith? The drunken forward flip squash?
Smith: Not even close, Hood. I believe it’s called a Rolling Fireman’s Carry Slam.
Hood: Makes no sense…neither of these guys put out fires.
~Vargas wipes some of the thick blood from his eyes, improving his vision. He stands and goes for a ladder. TIO is still down, in pain. Vargas picks the ladder up. Part of the ladder was lying in front of TIO. He sees it moving and gets to his feet, realizing he’s in danger of losing. TIO blinks repeatedly, his vision is blurred from the blood. He sprints at Vargas…Vargas swings the ladder like a giant bat and hits TIO right in the face!!! TIO falls to the mat and is sprawled out. His eyes are shot, his face is a crimson mask. The fans cheer and chant “Climb!” Vargas grabs the mic and heads into the ring with the mic in one hand, the ladder in the other~
Smith: Uh oh, the former champion has something on his mind.
Hood: I bet he sings the lyrics to Needle and the Spoon while he climbs.
Smith: It’s probably going to be more profane than that.
Hood: Sooo…like Needle and the Fucking Spoon?
~Vargas sets up the ladder and turns toward the entrance way. He spits a bunch of blood out of his mouth and off his lips, freeing his ability to speak. He yells into the mic~
Chad Vargas: I’m not getting that fucking key until you roll Treat down here. The deal was Treat in a cage at ringside…I get the key, I get Treat. So, get his ass down here!
~TIO is on the outside, slowly recovering. Vargas waits and waits. EE finally appears at the top of the stage~
Eastern European: Go, climb. Win match, win title. Treat be down when you finish.
~Vargas mocks EE’s speaking~
Chad Vargas: No treat not be here when I finish…Treat get here now, mother fucker!
~The jovial look on EE’s face vanishes. He frowns and gets angry~
Eastern European: Fine. But if Treat distract from match, you lose. I do not care about ladder rule. You lose title and TIO get to pound ass of Cassidy.
~Vargas laughs at EE’s terminology. EE doesn’t really get why he’s laughing. He waves at the curtain and a cage containing Treat Cassidy is wheeled down to the ringside area. Treat appears unharmed…just bound and clad in his unwashed, dirty suit. Vargas nods and throws the mic as far as his arm is able. It lands somewhere in the crowd. He turns and begins to climb~
Hood: Well, look who finally decided to show up to work. Thanks for coming, Treat! I hope they dock his pay for being tardy.
Smith: The REAL reason, folks, I believe for Treat’s absence up until this point…
Hood: That they forgot to have him out here at the beginning?
Smith: No, no, no…of course not. I believe it to be that the Eastern European thought Treat might be a distraction for the Incredible One.
Hood: Hmm…sounds like a cover up to me.
Smith: Regardless…Treat is out here now and Vargas is climbing the ladder…we are seconds away from a winner!
~Vargas gets about halfway up. He wipes blood from the eye holes of his metal mask. He mouths “Fuck this is a tall ladder”. The ladder is tall. TIO is on his feet, hunched over the apron. The cage containing Cassidy is a few feet from the ring, setting at the bottom of the ramp. TIO slides into the ring. Vargas is nearly at the key. TIO gets to his feet and wipes blood away with his arm. Chad’s back is to the entrance ramp. TIO grabs the other side of the ladder and pushes. Vargas clutches the side of the ladder, preparing for a fall. The ladder tips over and Vargas goes flying through the air and he lands on top of Treat’s cage!! There is a tremendous thud as Vargas remains atop the cage, unconscious. The crowd chants “Holy Shit!”~
Smith: Yikes!
Hood: I think ole Vargas has bigger problems than his fucked up face.
Smith: What a bad turn of misfortune
Hood: Ordering that fucking cage out here doesn’t look so smart now, does it?
~Cassidy pounds the top of his cage, trying to shake Vargas. Vargas isn’t moving. TIO leans over the top rope, breathing heavily. Blood pours off his face, to the floor. Vargas moves, slightly. His left leg hangs over the top of the cage. Treat reaches up and grabs it, shaking. This wakes Vargas. He’s foggy, in pain, but no longer unconscious. TIO sees this and grabs the ladder. He climbs the nearest corner with the ladder and sets it up as a bridge from the top turnbuckle, to the top of the cage~
Smith: This is interesting
Hood: I’m having horrible flashbacks to the monkey bars.
Smith: Traumatic child hood experience?
Hood: Sorta
Smith: Well, come on, let it out
Hood: This older kid, a few years above me was on there. And I was casually strolling around…decided to walk under the monkey bars to get to this girl I was interested in. I casually looked up and saw his dick hanging out of his shorts. It was really weird looking.
Smith: I don’t know why I asked.
~TIO shakes the ladder, making sure it’s sturdy. It seems about as sturdy as a ladder in that situation can be…so he starts to walk across it. He loses his balance a few times and has to extend his arms. The fans rise and fall based on each shake and sway of TIO. Vargas rolls onto his side, with his back to the ladder. He’s awake but far from alert. TIO is halfway toward the top of the cage. Vargas gets on all fours. TIO is nearly there. Vargas gets to his feet and finally spots TIO. He marches for him, looking to push him off. TIO jumps the rest of the way, making it to the roof of the cage. The two engage in a fist fight, exchanging lefts and rights~
Smith: That was a risky move by The Incredible One. If he had fallen, Vargas would have had a great opportunity at getting the key.
Hood: Hey, if you want to win big matches, you’ve got to put your shit out there.
Smith: Well said, Hood
Hood: Thanks, man
~Vargas blocks a punch from TIO. He lunges forward with his metal mask, looking to gash TIO. TIO dodges his attack and hooks his head under his arm. TIO viciously punches Vargas in the kidney area. Chad’s knees begin to buckle. TIO looks over his shoulder at the ladder..he positions his back directing in front of it. He then goes for a suplex. The crowd is teetering with suspense. TIO lifts Vargas up into the air, he is completely vertical~
Smith: He’s going to suplex him into the ladder!!
Hood: Well, Chad Vargas does love the south. The Incredible One is going to send him there…he has a heart after all.
Smith: Shut up…this could permanently injure our former OCW Champion
Hood: Yea and so could driving to the gas station. Shit happens, man.
~Vargas starts to knee TIO on top of the head. TIO weakens. Vargas falls back to the top of the cage. His feet are planted and the two are locked in that suplex position. Vargas breaks free and he knees TIO in the face. TIO stands upright with his bloodied face wearing a worried expression. Vargas grabs hold of TIO and looks to drop him with The Stroke! TIO gives Vargas some sharp elbows. Vargas loses his grip. TIO lifts Vargas into the air and tosses him onto the ladder with an Olympic Slam!!! Vargas crashes through the ladder and lands with a sickening thud on the floor!!! Cassidy covers his face and kneels over, shaking his head. The crowd chants “He’s Fucked Up!!” TIO takes a seat on top of the cage with his legs dangling over. He wipes some blood away and begins laughing. Vargas is laying on his side, breathing heavily but not moving~
Smith: That’s it…this one is over.
Hood: Straight fucked him up, Smith. I love how we never seem to have sturdy ladders.
Smith: To be fair, that was a 240lb man crashing through it
Hood: You calling Vargas fat or something?
Smith: Of course not!
~Cassidy reaches out and grabs the foot of Vargas, trying to revive him. TIO climbs down from the cage, landing softly on his two feet. He grabs Cassidy’s arm and then reaches in and wraps his hand around Treat’s throat. Treat’s eyes widen. TIO shoves him back. Cassidy slams, roughly against the bars behind his back. TIO says, “You’ll get yours soon enough.” He turns and heads for a ladder near ringside. In doing so, he steps right over Vargas who has still yet to move~
Smith: The arrogance of The Incredible One…stepping over his opponent as though he were a piece of trash.
Hood: No way man, a wasp was buzzing around and The Incredible One was kicking it away, you know, to protect him.
Smith: There are no wasps in here!
Hood: Not anymore, thanks to The Incredible One
Smith: Whatever
~TIO grabs a ladder. Owlie the Owl is nearby, looking fresh. He is holding up a glass sign that advertises the save the owl campaign. TIO rolls his eyes and picks up the ladder, hoping to avoid Owlie. He slides the ladder into the ring as Owlie marches around ringside, taking pictures with fans. TIO gets into the ring and pulls the ladder up. He starts to set it under the key. Some blood gets in his eyes, so he wipes his face as clean as he can~
Smith: I guess Larry is all healed up. That’s one dedicated mascot.
Hood: That fucking owl. I wish the wasp would have stung his ass.
Smith: There was no wasp, Hood. Get over it.
Hood: Bob Grenier really needs to step it up. If he can’t knock a guy like Larry out for an entire evening…I don’t see how he wins next week.
Smith: Indeed
~TIO has the ladder set up. It’s a little off center, but he’s having trouble seeing with all the blood in his eyes. Owlie hops over the barricade and continues holding the sign up. The fans pat him on the back and shake his owl hand…which makes no sense because owls don’t have hands but whatever…it’s a silly costume~
Smith: Chad Vargas has not moved but Owlie the Owl seems full of life.
Hood: Makes me want to find some anti owl organization…put those fuckers on the endangered species list
~We focus in on Treat who is trying to revive Chad. Chad still has yet to move. Behind Treat we see the front row. Larry the Superfan is in his regular seat, icing his badly bruised head, face, and neck~
Hood: And another thing about these fucking owls
Smith: Uhh, Hood…wait a minute. Larry’s ringside
Hood: No shit, he’s in that fucking owl suit…looks like Scruff stitched it together. Awful, pitiful job.
Smith: NO! I mean Larry is at ringside in his seat. He’s not in the costume.
Hood: Wait a minute…so…who…OH SHIT
~Hood jumps up and yells at TIO. “WATCH THE OWL! WATCH THE FUCKING OWL!!” TIO can’t really hear him from all the noise from the crowd and damage he’s suffered. He places his hands on the ladder and steps on the first rung. Owlie rolls into the ring and sets the glass sign up, in the corner nearest the ladder. TIO’s back is to it. Owlie grabs TIO by the trunks. TIO looks down and is like, “WHAT THE FUCK?” Owlie hits TIO in the back, climbs up to the third rung with TIO, hooks him and tosses him down and through the glass sign with a double arm rock bottom!!! TIO is out as glass shatters everywhere. The crowd goes crazy and chants ‘OWLIE!”~
Smith: What is going on?!
Hood: I can’t say…I don’t want to utter the phrase ‘an owl has just taken out our top wrestler’ on the air
Smith: Well, you kinda just did
Hood: FUCK
Smith: But, fear not…I don’t think that’s some measly mascot…I think it’s the REAL masked man from last week!
~Owlie scurries up the ladder before security notices what’s going on. They are still focused on the ramp and the crowd. He grabs the key. While atop the ladder Owlie pulls the mask off and tosses it down. The crowd goes wild~
Smith: IT’S MACK O’CONNOR!!
Hood: Oh shit! The former OCW Champion is back!
Smith: And a loyal client of Treat Cassidy!
Hood: Fuck…this match just turned
~Mack hops down and flies through the ropes. He unlocks the cage and unties Treat. They are about to escape. Before they do, Mack and Treat smack Chad around, waking him up. Chad’s eyes open and they pull him to a seated position. He looks around, dazed. They say a few words to him. Before they can finish, Security comes flooding their way. Mack and Treat rush over the barricade and through the crowd with security giving chase. The crowd is going crazy, unsure of what’s going to happen next. Chad is on the outside, concussed, but seating. TIO is laid out in the ring, the back of his head is cut open and glass shards are all round him. And, the key is gone~
Smith: What happens now?
Hood: That is a damn good question.
Smith: Do you have an answer?
Hood: Nope
~Amidst all the commotion, EE emerges from the back. He stumbles forward. Behind him is General Manager Marcus Welsh. Welsh is furious. He’s carrying a brief case. He shoves EE again, forcing him down the ramp. EE tries not to fall down. They reach ringside and Welsh grabs EE by the hair and drags him to the announce table. He shoves him into the barricade and begins yelling at Belvedere. Welsh grabs Belvedere by the collar of his suit and pulls him up, screaming obscenity laced instructions~
Smith: Our somewhat mythical GM is here and, well, he’s not happy.
Hood: Geezus, he’ s really giving it to Belvedere and The Eastern European
Smith: Well, the biggest match of 2017 has been turned into a freak show, Hood.
Hood: But…isn’t that OCW?
Smith: That’s how OCW used to be.
~Welsh tosses Belvedere back into his seat and opens the briefcase. Inside is the shiny, freshly polished Paradigm Championship. He points up at the cord hanging over the ring. A security member goes to grab the title. Welsh yells and shoves him away and gives the title to EE. EE gulps and goes inside the ring, walking toward the ladder. Welsh drops his briefcase near the ring and heads up the ramp without bothering to look back or talk to anyone. He disappears behind the curtain. EE wobbles and shakes but he reaches the top and secures the belt. He quickly climbs back down and exits the ring. As he’s walking up the ramp, Belvedere speaks~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ve just been informed by General Manager Marcus Welsh that this match will continue under ladder match stipulations. Only, instead of a key, the Paradigm Championship will be hanging above the ring.
~Belvedere sits back down. TIO is sitting up against a corner and kicks all the glass out of the ring. He reaches back and feels around his head. He looks at his fingers. They are bright red and wet. He wipes them against the mat and curses. Vargas is on his feet, now, leaning against the cage~
Smith: Alright Hood…it’s just a plain, old ladder match from this point forward.
Hood: Nothing wrong with that...I am disappointed we didn’t get to see Treat get beat up, though.
Smith: Hey, at least Owlie is gone.
Hood: What a fucking relief
~TIO finds the Owlie head and he tosses it into the crowd out of anger. He turns and faces the ladder. He takes a step forward. Vargas reaches in and grabs his second foot. Vargas pulls and TIO falls on his face. Vargas yanks TIO out of the ring and drills him in his mashed face. TIO stumbles against the barricade. Vargas runs in and jumps into TIO in a torpedo like motion, slamming his metal masked face into the stomach of TIO!! TIO falls to the ground, holding his midsection in pain~
Smith: Vargas is in control. This match is chaotic…it’s lost all sense of structure. This is an environment in which Chad Vargas thrives.
Hood: I think Chad Vargas was trying to suck The Incredible One’s dick there.
Smith: Uhh, no, he most certainly was not.
Hood: Are you sure? Had the right trajectory
Smith: You can ask him, if you want.
Hood: Oh well there’s no need in bothering him. I’m sure he’ll be too tired after this match to speak anyway.
Smith: Right
~Vargas picks TIO and drags him near the faculty area – where Belvedere is seated. He waves Belvedere away, aggressively. He then slams TIO face first into the ring bell!! TIO tumbles forward, into Belvedere’s seat. Vargas grabs TIO by the hair and drags him toward the apron. As he does, his foot kicks the brief case Welsh brought to ringside. He stops and looks at it. He tosses TIO into the ring and picks the brief case up. He holds it into the air and yells, “Fuck Welsh!”~
Smith: Not the wisest of declarations.
Hood: I’m surprised a bolt of lightning hasn’t hit him yet
Smith: Well, we are inside
Hood: Silly real life details that never stopped OCW in the past
Smith: Indeed
~Vargas rolls into the ring with the brief case. He stands up and shakes the case…something rattles inside. He tries to open it, but it’s locked. He works on the combo a few times but realizes he doesn’t have the time to crack it. TIO is on his feet, staggering around. Vargas finds a different, albeit equally effective use for the brief case. He lunges forward and swings it right into the face of TIO!! TIO falls back into the corner, slamming the back of his head into the middle buckle. Vargas tosses the brief case into his lap and points toward the ladder. The crowd cheers, getting behind the anti-hero southern redneck~
Smith: It’s pretty straight forward…climb the ladder and he’s the champion.
Hood: A man with a metal face…we’re being taken over by robots, Smith!
Smith: It’s just a mask Hood, relax.
Hood: That’s how it starts, Smith. Just a mask. Next thing you know they are reading our minds and taking our jobs.
~TIO looks down at the brief case. He plays with the code. We zoom in. It’s a lettered system. He rotates the three dials. They read ‘T I O’. The brief case unlocks. He reaches in and obtains what was inside. He crawls for the ladder. Vargas is on the third rung. He removes some blood build up in one of the eye holes of the mask. TIO reaches up and grabs his right foot. Vargas looks down and tries to kick him away~
Smith: The Incredible One pulled something out of that brief case!
Hood: Man, how smart is The Incredible One? He guessed that combination in no time!
Smith: He didn’t guess anything, Hood. That was obviously planted there by the staff for his benefit.
~Vargas hops down. He kicks TIO off of him. He bends over and grabs TIO by the hair. He yells at him, “Bitch ass pussy!” Vargas yanks TIO to his feet and leans back, preparing for a head butt. TIO punches Vargas in the gut!! Vargas doubles over, looking like he’s about to puke. TIO’s right hand has a pair of brass knuckles over it! TIO strikes down, onto the back of Chad’s head, which is exposed! Chad crumbles, face first onto the mat. TIO stumbles around and takes hold of the ladder~
Smith: No! Not this way!!
Hood: See, Smith, that's why you never do anything half assed
Smith: Huh?
Hood: If he had made that mask cover his ENTIRE head, instead of just the face, well, he might not be dreaming about black man servants right now.
Smith: Yea, well I don’t think he anticipated next level chicanery getting in the way during such a high profile match.
Hood: There you go, talking about chickens again. Do you want to go grab some KFC after the show or something?
Smith: Ugh, disgusting. I’m a Popeyes fan.
~TIO ascends the ladder. Vargas isn’t getting up. The crowd has fully turned on TIO. After all these weeks, they give up on the mandate. “BOOOOOO” is echoing throughout the arena. TIO reaches up and unhooks the Paradigm Title. He holds it high in the air as the bell sounds~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND THE NEW OCW PARADIGM CHAMPION…THE INCREDIBLE ONE!!!!!
Smith: I think I’m going to be sick
Hood: It’s all that Popeyes you’ve been eating, man. I’m telling ya, Original Recipe is where it’s at.
Smith: No, you idiot. Get serious…I’m talking about this match. This farce…this is a disgrace….if this is how 2017 is going to go well…I just…
~Smith hesitates, realizing he might have gone too far~
Hood: Hey, that was a bad ass fucking match. Regardless of how you choose to view the means toward that outcome…The Incredible One lived up to his name, right?
Smith: That’s the most frustrating part, Hood. He’s good enough to do it without all the help.
Hood: Yea but, man, if a smart ass Asian kid is going to give you the answers on your Biology final…are you going to say no?
Smith: That’s a stupid analogy. This match was wrought with corruption and Chad Vargas has been screwed.
Hood: Yea well at least your buddy Treat didn’t get murdered.
Smith: You can bet Mack O’Connor is going to have something to say about all of this.
Hood: And Vargas?
Smith: There’s definitely a rematch coming, I have to believe that. I know The Incredible One is the Paradigm Champion but…you have to believe Vargas might have been the better man.
Hood: The better man has the title around his shoulder…he isn’t lying face down on the mat with a metal mask on.
Smith: Ugh…it’s just hard to stomach. I mean, look at this…
~The Eastern European comes out and congratulates TIO in the ring. Security surrounds the ring and they help TIO out, through the ropes. They help him up the ramp and to the back. “CHEER!” is on the tron as an injured Larry works up the cheers as best he can. Vargas remains in the ring without any help or aid~
Smith: Chad is alone.
Hood: He’s got Mack and Treat and that crazy old man. I think he’ll be fine.
Smith: That remains to be seen. A lot of questions, folks. Where does Chad Vargas go from here? How about Mack O’Connor? What is OCW going to do about him? And The Incredible One…with management fully behind him…can he be beat?
Hood: I don’t know about that…but I can tell you one thing.
Smith: What’s that?
Hood: Brianna Casablancas…has left the building!
Smith: Thanks for that highly relevant information. Well, take a breath everybody because next week we bring you a match that bears more weight than the one you just witnessed. Next week the famed OCW Title will be on the line as Alice Knight, PerZag and the recently reinstated Bob Grenier do battle in a Two Consecutive Falls Match.
Hood: Oh, hey, I told Alice I’d help her mount the new flat screen TV she bought on the wall in her home. Could you hook me up with her address?
Smith: No, Hood, I am not giving you any opportunity at sabotaging that young woman’s shot at becoming OCW Champion next week.
Hood: Fuck you, bitch. I’m out of here.
Smith: And with that, I guess we all are. See you next week, folks!
~A shot of Vargas seated in a corner heavily concussed is shown. He hasn’t quite realized what’s taken place yet. We fade to black~