LIVE! Monday, February 27th 2017
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
We see several signs in the stands. “PERZAG WAS SCREWED!” “#ORANGEHAIRMATTERS!” “INTENSITY!!!!” “MEY…WHO THE HELL IS GONNA BEAT THESE GUYS?” “WILL THE INCREDIBLE ONE EVER WRESTLE AGAIN?” “MACK THE KNIFE!” “DREW IS HERE TO PURIFY THE SPORT” “A DISTINGUISHED ADMIRER?” “DARE SAVED MY CAT AND NOW I’M HERE HOLDING THIS SIGN!” “WHEN IS SCOTT SYREN RETURNING, OCW HAS ALREADY BEEN BACK FOR TWO MONTHS NOW” “AIRE RAYDE OVER TIBET!” “NO ANIMAL IS SAFE FROM ALICE” “THE DRAVERS ARE EXCELLENT TEST TAKERS” we settle on the announce team of Smith and Hood~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to another edition of Monday Night Massacre!! I’m Smith and alongside me is Hood…
Hood: Mack the Knife…so does that mean O’Connor does Bobby Darin karaoke?
Smith: Perhaps…I’ve heard karaoke is popular in bars, late at night.
Hood: I will say those signs aren’t half bad…especially that Syren one…oh, hey, look we’ve got more signs! A whole bunch in this one section over here…camera man, get a look!
~Our view shoots over to a section near the ramp. We see several signs all on a smoky white canvas written in black lettering. The penmanship is identical. We pick up on a few of them…they read “Max Shade. Indy Darling.” “Max Shade. Buy the Hype.” “Max Shade. Great Guy. Great Wrestler.” “Max Shade. Future World Champion.” “Max Shade…” we don’t’ get to finish reading the sign as a blonde man handing out money gets spotted holding that sign with several more underneath. He takes off and sprints away, backstage somewhere. We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: What was that?!
Hood: Obviously Shootah in disguise trying to rip up and/or confiscate all those Max Shade posters!
Smith: Illogical…for starters, Shootah would have probably tripped while trying to run away. It seems this could be the work of…
Hood: Careful…
Smith: …some overzealous Max Shade fans!
Hood: Right on and what a crowd! Max Shade has already developed a following and he hasn’t even wrestled a match yet.
Smith: It must be that heavily talked about independent career.
Hood: Yes, I hear he once wrestled a broom to a five star match.
Smith: Really?
Hood: Yea, I mean it was one of those new age brooms that can do all sorts of shit, not a wooden broom…I mean that would just be ridiculous, right?
Smith: I…I can’t say. But I did manage to get my hands on a DVD with Max Shade’s greatest indy matches…so I figured we can check that out before his match…give the fans something to get excited about. Whet the palette.
Hood: You’re not whetting anything of mine, pal.
Smith: Folks, it’s true…Max Shade makes his heavily anticipated debut tonight…as does Robbie Rayder…but, that’s just the beginning, we’ve got so much on tap.
Hood: Yes, like those two guys who are squaring off after Rayder
Smith: Morbidus and Lance Savage, correct. Morbidus looking to rebound after a tough loss and Lance Savage, the returning veteran, hoping to attain some momentum.
Hood: Lance Savage? Returning? Who is this guy?
Smith: Seriously? We go over this every week…he was a member of the roster in 2015…he’s got one eye.
Hood: One eye, huh? I think I got it…I won’t forget him again.
Smith: After that Bob Grenier and Rebel will square off in a match both men sorely need to win.
Hood: Grenier will win. I saw it in a dream I had last night
Smith: You were dreaming about Bob Grenier?
Hood: No, not ABOUT Grenier…he just kind of walked in and interrupted everything. Really pissed me off and I told him I was glad Alice defeated him since he was ruining my dream like that…so then he told me he was definitely going to win tonight and to put a huge amount of money on him. So I did and I look forward to hitting that huge bet.
Smith: You know we’re not supposed to bet on these matches, right?
Hood: HYPOTHETICALLY, Smith…c’mon, you know I wouldn’t LITERALLY bet on a wrestling match, ha ha ha
Smith: Next up we will see our new champion in action as she takes on Annie Alvarez followed by the in-ring return of MJ Bell. I can’t wait to see what kind of drama comes from those two matches.
Hood: Oh, a shit ton, they are women, naturally…and, even worse, they both want the same thing. OCW would probably do better in the ratings if they just killed Massacre and did a reality show…like the women of OCW or some shit.
Smith: You might have a point there…but back to their issues…I’m being told we could hear a major announcement tonight concerning both women and the OCW Title.
Hood: If it ain’t “Alice Knight has been stripped…”
Smith: EASY
Hood: Of the title, you fucking perv. If that isn’t the news, then I don’t give a shit
Smith: After that, folks…we hit a triple header of title bouts…starting with Iggy Hardy and Dare Clemmens squaring off for the Ascension Title.
Hood: That should be INTENSE…pun totally intended
Smith: Yea, we got that…then Drew Stevenson looks to capture and re-invent the Savage division when he takes on former OCW Champion Mack O’Connor.
Hood: Hey, maybe Mack the Knife will slice his way to victory!
Smith: Your jokes are not appreciated. And, last but certainly not least…Aptitude makes their in ring debut in the main event of a stacked lineup taking on The Dravers Boys for the OCW Tag Team Championship.
Hood: I asked the Dravers parents what it’s going to feel like to bury their twin sons. They told me it would free up their Monday nights.
Smith: That’s awful!
Hood: Hey, blame them…they are awful parents. Just look at what they allow their kids to do with their hair.
Smith: The Dravers have been a success story the likes of which we’ve never seen. But, it’s come so quick for them. Do they truly understand the position they are in? And, moreover, are they capable of handling CJ O’Donnell and Matt Meyhu?
Hood: No and fuck no. They should forfeit right now and then go follow Alice around for the rest of the evening.
Smith: Well folks, enough gesticulating…enough commentating…enough theorizing…it’s time to get this night started! So, let’s head backstage!
~We cut backstage where Max Shade is standing in front of a concrete brick wall, his arms extended. Two trainers are taping up his wrists and checking the fit on his elbow pads. Dr. Orange stands nearby, his arms crossed, with a look of smug satisfaction on his face~
~Max’s own face is blank; think “resting maniac face”. After a few moments he glances in the direction of Dr. Orange and looks like he’s about to say something. Dr. Orange cuts him off abruptly~
DR. ORANGE: Relax, buddy, no need to thank me. You earned this opportunity, such as it is. The premier of The Ebony Colossus, against, oh I dunno, let’s call Shooty “The Walking Deadguy”, sure. Kids still like Walking Dead, right? Whatever. Point is, OCW has set the table, and now all YOU gotta do, is go out there and eat the dinner.
~Max curls his lip and cocks an eyebrow, almost as if confused by his manager’s odd choice of phrasing. Dr. Orange waves his hand dismissively~
DR. ORANGE: Trust me, it’s an actual expression, I heard it at college. It was in a writing class, advanced writing, top tier. Features prominently in the work of several great authors. Like Tennyson, ever heard of him? Anyways, just focus on your match, you got this.
~Max purses his lips and nods. The trainers finish with their wrist-taping and mumble something the microphones can’t quite pick up. Max opens and closes his hands a few times, punches his palm, and seems satisfied that he’s ready to go. Dr. Orange places a hand on Max’s shoulder~
DR. ORANGE: I’m proud of you, kiddo. We’ve come a long way to get here, and I’m really very proud of you. Get yourself some water and come meet me at the Magilla Position.
~Dr. Orange walks off. As soon as he’s out of eyeshot, Max rolls his eyes and shakes his head, before grabbing a water bottle and dumping it all over his head. He crushes it as the scene fades to the announce table~
Smith: The Magilla position?
Hood: Sounds sexual...I might have to look that up on urban dictionary
Smith: Have fun with that...not much respect being given for their opponent, Shootah
Hood: Ya know, he does KINDA look like a zombie. If that's the case, Max Shade could be in trouble
Smith: We don't employ zombies, Hood...not anymore. Alright folks, it's time for our first match of the evening as Robbie 'Aire' Rayder is set to make his debut against TRUDA...let's go down to ringside
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is scheduled for one fall…
~Truda is already in the ring, stretching out~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Tibet…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 198lbs…Truda!!!!
~A minimal reaction for Truda. He bows his head and starts to meditate while in the corner. The lights dim as a red siren light circles the arena. 'Indestructible' by Disturbed plays as Robbie Rayder, wearing his ring attire and color matching cape, walks out and kneels down. He points his index fingers to the ceiling then lowers them to point at the ring. Rayder looks out at the crowd as he walks half way down towards the ring, then pulling the cape off from his neck. He slides into the ring, front flips up, drops to a knee and points to the ceiling again, then lowers his index fingers to point at Truda~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Vancouver, British Columbia…standing 5’9 and weighing in at 195lbs….Robbie ‘Aire’ Rayder!!!
~Rayder calmly stands and removes his cape. He hands it to Belvedere who takes his leave. Rayder backs into the corner opposite of Truda. The bell rings. Truda continues to meditate as Rayder’s anxious energy bounces from leg to leg…he keeps his eye on Truda. Truda eventually looks up, making eye contact with his opponent~
Smith: The ever stoic Truda taking some pre-match time to meditate
Hood: I think he’s feeling nauseous and that was him trying to hold back whatever it was he ate earlier.
Smith: No, Hood…that was him meditating
Hood: If you say so…not like I’d know anything about this guy
~Truda paces around the ring as the quicker, more energetic Rayder follows suit, keeping an eye on his opponent. Truda approaches Rayder and he throws a kick at Rayder. Rayder dodges it. Truda throws another, Rayder dodges the second kick. Truda tries a back fist, Rayder ducks and he drills Truda in the gut with a kick. Truda stumbles back. Rayder starts to move for an attack but Truda lifts up his leg in a defensive/attack posture. Rayder hangs back~
Smith: Robbie Rayder is incredibly quick…that much is obvious.
Hood: Yea, he seems scared of the weird man from Tibet
Smith: I don’t think he’s scared. It’s his debut…he doesn’t want to just run in there and eat a kick, you know? He’s going to be extra careful in making a strong first impression.
Hood: Fucking careful people…I swear careful drivers cause more wrecks than drunks do.
~Rayder moves in and reaches for one of Truda’s legs. Truda avoids him but, in the process, backs into a corner. Rayder sprints in and starts nailing Truda with foreamrs! Truda tries to cover up but can’t. Rayder moves to kicking Truda’s lower half. He drills Truda in the thigh, knee, shin, each and every bare spot he can make contact. Rayder grabs Truda’s arm and goes to whip him across the ring…he reverses and hurls Truda front first into the corner they were already working within. Truda’s slams front first…Rayder hooks his waist and drops him near the center of the ring with a Deadlift German Suplex! The crowd gives a nice ovation for the quick, athletic Robbie Rayder~
Smith: Impressive barrage of movies there by Mr. Rayder...he’s got talent.
Hood: Sure but he’s also in there with Truda…let’s not give this fucker the world title already
Smith: I didn’t say anything of the sort…I’m merely complimenting his style
~Rayder lifts Truda to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Truda bounces off and Rayder goes for a spinning heel kick. Truda catches him! Truda elbows Rayder and places him on the mat, he looks for something like a Rock Bottom. Rayder elbows Truda, breaks free and runs toward the ropes. Truda turns around and he snatches Rayder up. Truda attempts a Tilt-a-Whirl slam but Rayder turns it into a Tilt-a-Whirl DDT!! Truda’s head smashes into the mat as the fans give a hearty ovation for the reversal~
Smith: Truda tried and, well, failed
Hood: FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION...as long as you’re not from Tibet, apparently
Smith: You shouldn’t besmirch an entire nation…is it a nation? What is Tibet?
Hood: I don’t know…says here, according to my NEW phone that it is a region on the Tibetan Plateau in Asia
Smith: What’s the Tibetan Plateau?
Hood: I’m not digging that deep. But, if you’re curious as to what Asia is, it’s a continent across the ocean somewhere.
Smith: Thanks for that
~Rayder hurries to his feet, firing up the crowd. A few “Ray-der! Ray-der!” chants break out. Truda shows more gumption than you’d expect, reaching his feet. Rayder comes up from behind Truda, leaps into the air and wraps his legs around Truda’s head and drops him with an Inverted Frankensteiner!!! The crowd ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ at the athleticism. Rayder stands over Truda and leaps into the air. He nails a Standing Shooting Star Press perfectly…so fluid, so smooth. The crowd really gets into their ‘Ray-der! Ray-der!’ chants as his athleticism is winning them over~
Smith: Could be a star on the rise, Hood
Hood: Nah man, you’re wrong there, Truda isn’t going to be a star
Smith: I’m talking about Robbie Rayder!
Hood: Oh, that guy…yea, maybe. He can jump and run and stuff…and he’s got muscles.
Smith: Still reading about Tibetan Plateaus?
Hood: Nah, I found a link to a slideshow of female celebrities that used to be hot…it’s showing that they are ugly now
Smith: Oh really? Interesting…
Hood: Not really, I’d still fuck, like…all of them
~Rayder gets back to his feet. He pulls Truda to his hands and knees. Truda looks on the verge of unconsciousness. Rayder runs into the ropes and comes off with a Sick Kick into the head of Truda!! Truda flops onto his back and is motionless. Rayder gets up and heads to the nearest corner~
Smith: Here we go, Hood! He calls this Aire Rayde!!
Hood: Eww, I take that back, Julia Stiles is on this list and I NEVER thought she was attractive. So, I’d fuck fourteen of these broads.
Smith: You never thought she was attractive?
Hood: Okay, maybe in A Guy Thing she was halfway decent but, aside from that…nope.
~Rayder effortlessly hops to the top of the corner and stands up straight. He leaps off and twirls through the air landing on top of Truda with a 450 Corkscrew Splash (Aire Rayde)!!!! Rayder’s body bounces into the air from impact but he quickly makes the cover and Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ROBBIE ‘AIRE’ RAYDER!!!!!
Smith: Impressive win for Robbie Rayder! He’s a tremendous athlete who takes this profession seriously…a fresh concept in OCW.
Hood: He also apparently hates Tibet
Smith: I don’t think there’s any personal animosity…Rayder was just looking to succeed
Hood: I heard from various sources that Rayder declared war on Tibet before this match and referred to the peoples of Tibet as…Tibbies
Smith: Tibbies?
Hood: Shhh, man, don’t be sayin the T-word so loud. It’s highly offensive
Smith: Right…we don’t have time for this foolishness…let’s head backstage
~We cut backstage where the OCW Tag Champions, The Dravers twins bump into Alice Knight. They hug her~
Nathan: Hey Champ! Congratulations again… you deserve it Alice, you really do.
Jonathan: Yeah. We knew you’d get the job done! And so did Alex… Hey she has a message for you. She did it on our camera… She’s 7 soon and wants to know if…well. Do you wanna see?
Alice: Of course. Play it up Jonny Boy. And seriously thanks again guys for helping me out last week. I was pretty out of it for a while during the match. But... (Alice taps the OCW Championship around her waist.) It was worth it...
Jonathan: Hey when we said we had your back, we meant it.
~Jonathan smiles and pulls out the twins’ video camera and presses play. It shows Alex’s message to Alice regarding her birthday party~
Jonathan: And then…
~Jonathan fast forwards just slightly to the bit where Alex does an impression of an owl~
Nathan: She’s cute isn’t she? Haha… Oh Alice… could we have an #OWLisNight t-shirt?
Alice: That was a pretty sweet Owl impression. She is quite the adorable kid... And again, that Owl impression... way better than mine, and believe me I've been a practicing. And absolutely I can hook you guys up with t-shirts. I got a box full of them in the changing room... better than going through the hassle of buying them online at OCW.com.
Nathan: Hey thanks. Alex would love one too…
~Jonathan shakes his head, smiling~
Jonathan: So, yeah... we promised her we'd ask you about her party. I mean you're champion and busy... we get it... But y'know we did promise we would ask. Just let us know later, yeah? Anyway... Come on, Nathan... we gotta get ready for the Apititude. Later Alice! Good luck in your match with Annie.
~The twins hug Alice again and then leave. We cut back to ringside~
Hood: What the fuck was that shit?
Smith: Be nice...The Dravers and Alice are forming a tight bond in OCW. Not everything has to be edgy or filled with profanity, Hood.
Hood: Her influence is showing, that for sure. Going around and asking for free shit...total bum behavior.
Smith: Nothing wrong with asking a friend for a favor
Hood: Sorry, I just can't get used to the image of OWLIS being OCW Champion. It's like having a nightmare where you're locked in chains, doing slave labor, forced to obey. But, you wake up and feel relief until...
Smith: Until what?
Hood: You roll over and bump into your wife. Screams of terror fill the bedroom...
Smith: Marriage isn't that bad, Hood
Hood: I watch the ID Channel, Smith. Don't sell me any stories...I know what TRUE marriage is like.
Smith: Well, folks, on that note I'd like to turn our focus onto Max Shade. He's a bit of an anomaly here in OCW. Dr. Jon Orange has repeatedly stated that Shade is one of the more talented independent wrestlers over the past several years. Yet, no video evidence had surfaced solidifying that point...until now
Hood: Oh shit, you got some footage of that giant black guy?
Smith: Geez, yes, Hood...relax. I purchased it from a reputable looking man throwing dice against the OCW arena earlier this morning. It only cost me thirty-nine dollars and sixty-four cents.
Hood: That's kind of precise...was he holding a calculator?
Smith: Not that I could see but, anyway...I figured before Shade comes out we could view some footage...get a feel for his skill set.
Hood: Sure, whatever
Smith: Alright, I'm excited!
~Smith rubs his hands together as his laptop fires up. He opens the casing and carefully removes the DVD. He places into the side of his laptop which eats it up. Smith bounces around, looking at Hood with giddyness~
Smith: You know I minored in journalism. I thought it might take me to the head of MSNBC or maybe a chief editor for the New York Times...turns out it landed me this gig. But, that's not the point...the point is I've always wanted to break a big story...this could be it!
Hood: Yea, I never went to college
Smith: No shock there
~It fires up and an image of Max Shade flexing shows. His muscles are big and oily. Smith nods, finding no cause for concern. The audio starts up as the image remains. He patiently waits for the image to disappear. It doesn't. Instead we hear stock music from a video game play. An announcer speaks "And his opponent...Mackis Shadey!" Smith's brow furrows as the computer generated voice botches the name. A loud slam sounds as an obvious video game crowd goes wild. Stock announcer voices put over the move "What a slam!" "He's looking great today!" "Wow!" "A star in the making!" Smith looks over at Hood who is trying not to laugh. Smith's face is heating up~
Hood: You...you want to turn that off now? Or do you want to keep staring at Max Shade's muscles while listening to an audio recording of someone playing a video game?
~Another slam sounds with the announcers going crazy. "What strength!" "He's got it working now!" Smith probably couldn't tell you why, but that did it. He slams his laptop shut and flings it across the announce table. It nearly hits a fan but Larry, the OCW Super fan, is able to catch it. He gives Smith a thumb up. Smith ignores him and sits down, arms folded~
Hood: Well you did uncover one story...we've got some profiteering going on outside our arena during off hours.
Smith: I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's just get to the match
Hood: Alright, fine by me
Max Shade (0-0) vs. Shootah (0-3)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…this opening match is scheduled for one fall!
~ "Never Take Me Out" by Demigodz fills the arena. Dr. Jon Orange emerges first. He looks out into the crowd and soaks in the environment. He waves and nods and gives them a thumb up. Shade finally steps out from behind the curtain. He stops to take a moment to take in the atmosphere, but Dr Orange pats him on the back and motions for him to head to the ring. Orange leads the way as they reach the bottom of the ramp. Orange continues waving to the crowd with Shade remaining behind him. They walk up the ring steps and enter into the squared circle. Orange waves and gives a thumb up around all for sides of the ring before exiting. Shade just stands in his corner, sort of nodding as though he’s used to this behavior~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 285lbs…the client of Dr. Jon Orange….Max Shade!!!
~”Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang starts up. John E Depth emerges and starts to head to the ring. He stops, feeling an absence behind him. Shootah is nowhere to be found. He hustles back to the curtain and reaches through the black fabric. He yanks Shootah out and escorts him, aggressively, down to ringside. Shootah pleads with Depth not to go through with it but Depth says something about needing a paycheck to finish shooting his vision. He tosses Shootah into the ring. Shootah gets to his feet and starts to exit…Depth points at him and yells “Don’t you even think about it!”~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Hollywood, California…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 180lbs…Shootah!!!
~The bell rings. Shootah screams~
Smith: What is his problem?
Hood: Given what he’s endured in his short OCW career…I’d imagine that bell ringing sounds like air raid sirens.
Smith: He does appear traumatized.
Hood: I guess seeing over ten thousand hard cocks in the span of one lifetime might do that to a man
~Dr. Orange is standing near the announce table. This was probably done on purpose, so his voice could be picked up by the broadcast. He yells “WEAK!” while observing Shootah. Depth orders Shootah to turn around and face Shade. Shade begins marching in a no fuck around manner toward Shootah. Shootah throws his hands up, pleading~
Smith: Uh oh, this could get ugly in a hurry.
Hood: So this Max Shade…he’s this underground indy wrestling badass, right?
Smith: According to Dr Jon Orange…which, I’ve been wondering, Hood. Do you think he was born Dr Jon Orange or do you think he adopted that name due to…aesthetic alterations?
Hood: What a dumb fucking question…nobody is born named doctor, you idiot. You have to go through like ten years of school for that shit.
Smith: Never mind
~Shade reaches out and tries to lock up with Shootah. He ends up nearly head butting him. Shootah squirms free, temporarily. Shade grabs hold of Shootah’s nasty hair and yanks him to the mat. Shootah winces in pain. Shade goes to drop an elbow…his ass hits first, taking much of the sting out of the elbow. Shootah gets up and tries to run away. The fans sound unsettled, as though they aren’t seeing what they were promised~
Smith: Hmm…
Hood: That was a vicious head butt he attempted…it would have ended the match if not for Shootah's cat like quickness.
Smith: What about that elbow?
Hood: Intimidation…he’s trying to scare Shootah. Mind games, Smith
Smith: Sure, we can go with that
~Shootah reaches a corner and he tries to climb through the ropes. Depth hustles over and pie faces Shootah back into the ring. Shootah backs into Shade. He turns around and Shade picks him up for a body slam. He loses his grip mid-way through and sort of tosses Shootah to the mat. Shootah lands on the back of his head. Dr. Jon Orange is overheard praising his client, “Perfect Body Toss. The Best.”~
Smith: Uhh…yes, folks, a body throw! How about that!
Hood: Max Shade is so impressive he’s inventing moves right in front of our very eyes!
Smith: It’s some innovative offense, for sure
Hood: I can’t wait to see more innovative moves from Max Shade.
Smith: I think you’re going to get your wish
~Shade grabs Shootah by the hair again. He locks his arms around Shootah’s emaciated, drug addict build. He lifts Shootah up for a belly-to-belly. Shade’s base shifts as his feet kind of stumble around. He turns around and winds up falling into the corner with Shootah sandwiched in between Shade and the buckles. Slight boos from the crowd. Dr Jon Orange claps and yells, “Corner Hug Smash. Devastation.”~
Smith: A corner hug smash, Hood.
Hood: This fucking guy is a genius. He’s going to be looked upon as a pioneer ushering in a new style of professional wrestling.
Smith: He’ll be remembered alright
Hood: I wonder if he has any aerial moves in his vast, creative repertoire.
Smith: I hope not
~Shootah coughs and worms his head in between the middle and bottom rope. He pleads with Depth. “Get me out of here, B. I can’t take much more of this, yo.” Depth nods, understanding the crisis. Shade pops to his feet and yells while flexing. Some of the crowd gets behind it because, well, he’s pretty damn impressive looking. Depth hops on the apron. Dr. Jon Orange yells out, “Cheater! He’s cheating. Unprofessional.”~
Smith: I think John E Depth senses his business partner might be in trouble
Hood: You can’t underestimate the value of a guy like Shootah when it comes to running a business. Bitch work is extremely time consuming.
Smith: Indeed
~Depth succeeds in gaining Shade’s attention. Scruff walks over and tries to get Depth off the apron. Shade barrels in between and wraps his giant hand around Depth’s throat. Depth’s eyes pop with a look that says, “I’ve made a huge mistake.” Shade clamps down and lifts up…Depth’s legs wiggle. Depth points at Shootah~
Smith: I think John E Depth is trying to refocus Max Shade on his business partner Shootah.
Hood: Hey, as men, we’re all for helping a pal out…as long as it doesn’t fuck our shit up.
Smith: That doesn’t sound like a very good friend
Hood: I agree…I never associate with people who ask for help
~Shootah somehow fights gravity and physical incompetence, making it to his feet. He leans in a corner and starts to make an exit. Depth gurgles and chokes. Shootah looks over and sees his friend and, more importantly, his employer fading away at the hands of Shade. Shootah walks over and jams a thumb into the eye of Shade!! Shade lets go of Depth who falls roughly to the outside. Shootah jams a thumb into Shade’s other eye! Shade staggers into the middle of the ring, reaching for his irritated sockets while shaking his head around~
Smith: Shootah doing what he has to, I suppose
Hood: An eye poke is very effective, Smith. How do you think I survived that shark attack in 1985?
Smith: You survived a Shark attack? How come I’ve never heard about this?
Hood: Because it happened in 1985 and you know how I don’t like to talk about 1985.
Smith: I didn’t realize any of that…but I think it is worth nothing that the eye poke is Shootah’s signature move.
~Shootah starts to feel some momentum. He points his thumb into the air and leans against the ropes. He bounces off and rushes toward Shade, looking for some kind of ultimate thumb to the eye. Shade responds by grabbing his arm, stopping Shootah dead in his tracks. Shade then pulls Shootah in close and pounds him into the mat with a Short Arm Clothesline. Shade stumbles a bit, but keeps his footing. Dr Orange claps while observing, “Weak. Weak arms, frail body. Needs to hit the gym.”~
Smith: The raw power of Max Shade is unquestionable. He almost took Shootah’s head right off.
Hood: And how about the generosity of Dr Orange…just offering some free counseling to Shootah.
Smith: I think that was more of a put down, Hood.
Hood: Oh no, he’s trying to get Shootah to hit the weights…improve his physique, maybe Dr Orange sees something in Shootah.
Smith: I doubt it
~Shade yanks Shootah to his feet. Shootah, out of desperation goes for another thumb into the eye. Shade blocks it and drills Shootah three times in the head. He whips Shootah into the ropes, Shootah bounces off and Shade nearly decapitates him with a clothesline from hell!! Shootah turns inside out, landing on his face and chest. Shade stumbles to a knee but quickly returns to his feet as the fans are a bit more settled, impressed by the man’s power~
Smith: I think Shootah might need medical attention after that one
Hood: I don’t know much about Max Shade…but the guy’s got the clothesline down
Smith: Simple, yet effective
Hood: About that hairstyles…do you think he just went bald everywhere else?
Smith: Uh, no…I’ve never seen that type of baldness
Hood: Maybe he tried a comb ALL over and didn’t like the way it looked…so just did the pony tail instead?
Smith: Doubtful
~Shade pulls Shootah up. Dr Orange can be heard claiming, “Over. Done. Huge win, HUGE.” Shade hoists Shootah over his shoulders he twirls him around like an F-5 before dropping him with a Diamond Cutter!!! Shootah flops over onto his back as Shade crawls on top of him and sloppily covers a leg. Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...
~Dr Jon Orange has climbed into the ring and aggressively shout whispered to Belvedere~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…Dr Jon Orange’s client….MAX SHADE!!!!!
~Dr Jon Orange hoists the tree trunk like arm of Shade into the air. He lets go and pats Shade on the back, almost dismissively before giving a thumb up and wave to the crowd. Shade remains standing in the middle of the ring, breathing heavily with his hands on his hips, watching Dr. Jon Orange~
Smith: Interesting dynamic here, Hood
Hood: Dr. Jon Orange is a great man. Seriously, he could be making a shit ton of money by doing whatever it is doctors do but, instead, he’s trying to promote Max Shade.
Smith: You think so?
Hood: I KNOW so. Max Shade has been toiling away on the indys, putting on match of the year type performances while making very little cash. Dr Orange saw this and said ENOUGH. And now he’s going to single-handily bring OCW into the next boom period thanks to his aggressive Max Shade promotional campaign.
Smith: That all sounds very optimistic for a guy like you but, I guess we’ll see. Regardless of what Hood may be saying, it was an impressive victory in Max Shade's debut. Both Rayder and Shade have shown out tonight in their first OCW matches...strong first impressions.
Hood: And...I don't think it can be stated enough, both men have tons of muscles
Smith: Sure...folks, we're just getting started as the intensity is soon to pick up. Let's head backstage before our next match takes place
~We cut backstage where Alice can be seen happily backstage area tying up her wrestling boots. Next to her is the OCW Championship~
Alice(talking to her laces): Form the bunny ears than make an X and…
~A shadow blocks her light. Alice looks up to see who it is. The camera zooms out to reveal it is MJ Bell. Alice’s smile quickly disappears. She quickly grabs her title and puts it over her shoulder. She stands up as the two make eye contact~
Alice: Oh, hey MJ. I’m not one for much confrontations backstage and I hate to swear… but… but… what the pooping hell did you do last week? I mean, I know why you came back. And I’d understand you attacking those other two fools, Perzag and Bob Grenier if they won. But… seriously? Knocking me out? What the… what the… what the poopin’ hell? There i go swearing again…
~MJ gently folds her arms shifting weight to one foot and offering a small smile. She exhales softly having her expression dull into something nearly sad~
MJ Bell: I attacked you. I figured that much was obvious… Listen, as much as everyone might think, what I did wasn’t personal. I apologize that it had to be you, that it had to ruin your celebration, but the OCW Championship never left my hands. That attack was a statement, as clear as I could make it, what my intentions are. I have unfinished business. Bottom line: I am sorry, Alice.
~Alice adjusts her OCW championship~
Alice: Listen, MJ. I get it. I get that you want to be the Champion again. I get that you have unfinished business with OCW. But there could have been a better way for you to approach it all. I mean, I’m sure like a lot of the OCW roster, don’t see me as the true champion. But you know better than anyone that I would have given you a title match. Whenever you wanted. I’m a big girl. I get this sport. If you want to be on top. You need to sometime take drastic measures to make a point. But what can I say. I was surprised to see you do something as, well, low as that. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I look at this sport in the wrong way. Maybe I was never as good of a friend as I thought. But what you did hurt me. But it also may have lit a fire under my buttocks. I know you’re number one contender… and rightfully so. But expect a fight if you want this belt back.
~MJ’s expression never changes but she seems to tense more. There is a pause of silence as the two exchange a lingering stare. She finally tears her gaze downwards~
MJ Bell: You’re not wrong for being upset with me. Take the time you need to work through it because, despite what you may believe, we are friends. I won’t repeat my apologies again though. I said my piece on that. Take it as you will. However, you’re wrong about one thing, asking for a title match wouldn’t have made the point I had to make. This sport is an unforgiving one and I’ve had to adapt to that nature to survive-- to be a champion. You have the power to be an amazing OCW Champion while you have it.
~MJ extends her hand pointing at the title hanging on Alice’s shoulder with a small smile. She lowers it then turns to walk away~
MJ Bell: Congratulations on the title win, Alice. Knock’em dead out there.
Alice: Thanks, MJ. I guess. I mean… I don’t know what to say here. I do feel betrayed and I don’t expect you to apologize any more than you already have. And I know many people don’t expect me to beat you when we do finally face off. But like I said… expect a fight when we do...
~MJ glances over her shoulder with a wide smirk and winks back at Alice. She continues on her way before disappearing out of sight leaving Alice alone and behind. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: MJ Bell is cold as ice
Hood: Well it is February
Smith: You’d think she could at least show a little something acknowledging their friendship? I mean I get the title aspirations and the regret from 2014 but she’s just so cold toward Alice
Hood: It’s that white hair, Smith. She’s now the Ice Queen
Smith: Get serious…these two were great friends. They rooted for one another. Alice finally reaches the summit that MJ reached back in 2014 and rather than congratulate her…rather than ask for a title match she knew she’d get…she does this? She attacks her and then treats her as though she never really knew her? It’s just…I don’t know, it’s so hollow. I feel like Alice needs an answer…some closure.
Hood: Look, this isn’t a fucking movie, alright? You don’t get closure just because you want it. This is life, shit happens. If she wants closure, she can earn it inside the ring against MJ.
Smith: Yea, I guess…poor Alice.
Hood: Oh yes, poor Alice. The woman making I don’t know how much money off of the feathers of owls who also has the OCW Title…yes…POOR FUCKING ALICE.
Smith: Point taken…let’s head down to ringside for our next match as Lance Savage and Robert Morbidus look to settle a demonic grudge…the old fashioned way.
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!!!
~ 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: Introducing first, from The Other Side of Darkness…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 275lbs…’The True Living Vampire’ Robert Morbidus!!!
~ The two men circle one another in the ring, separated only by referee Scruff. The buzzing crowd return to their seats, as the bell sounds, and the match begins...
Smith: We're underway, and I've got a feeling we're going to see a solid match-up, here, between two tremendous young guys in OCW both looking to make a name for themselves...
Hood: For once, Smith, I might just have to agree with you. The Demon’s gonna win though by a mile.
Smith: Well - The True Living Vampire is some athlete in his own right, Hood. Don't count him out just yet…
~ Both men gesture for a lock-up… ~
Smith: Collar-and-elbow tie-up, and you've gotta believe Robert Morbidus has the advantage, here, with that physique…
Hood: Oh... he does NOT… Both of these men are the same exact height.
~ We never actually get to find out, as Savage boots his opponent in the gut before the two can lock horns. Savage drives a closed fist to the skull of Morbidus for good measure which doesn’t even stagger the big fella. Morbidus comes charging in again and Savage this time with another boot to the gut. With Morbidus bent double, Savage begins to work over him by raining clubbing shots to the back of his head and neck. Eventually, Morbidus drops to one knee, but finds himself being dragged back up, and shot into the ropes… ~
Smith: Savage taking the early advantage, here... irish whip...
Hood: What did I tell you, Smith?
~ Savage misses the clothesline as Morbidus ducks underneath and rebounds off the ropes, "The Demon" whirls around to see his opponent diving across the ring… ~
Smith: FLYING CLOTHESLINE!!
~ Savage knocked down! And Morbidus quickly into a cover! ~
ONE …
TWO …
~ Savage kicks out with authority, and both men get back to their feet, and lock up once more. Morbidus gains the advantage, clamping in a side-headlock. Savage, however, immediately goes for the face, and uses an unscrupulous rake of the eyes quickly buys his freedom from the vice-like hold. ~
Smith: Savage with a BLATANT eye gouge! And I don't think Scruff saw it.
Hood: Man... that brings back some good memories...
~ Ignoring the admonishment of referee Scruff, "The Demon" moves in quickly on a semi-blind Morbidus, nailing him with a series of heavy forearm shots to the back, chest and face before Savage shoots Morbidus across, into the ropes… ~
Smith: BIG BACK BODY DROP BY SAVAGE!!
Hood: Great elevation their, but Morbidus is right back up...
~ 'The True Living Vampire', indeed, bounces off the canvas, unfazed, but walks right into an impressive Savage dropkick, that catches Morbidus square in his chiselled jaw. ~
Hood: What a dropkick!
Smith: Tremendous athleticism by the Demon.
Hood: That's as good a dropkick as you'll ever see for a man of his size.
~ Morbidus appears quite stunned as he almost gets back to his feet, a hand to his feet, and half-stumbles, half-falls back into the corner. Savage is quickly back on him, pressing his boot against the throat of 'The True Living Vampire' in an outright choke… ~
Smith: Savage, now, with nothing more than a blatant choke on Morbidus, and the referee has got to use his five-count, here…
Hood: Lance's taking this kid apart, Smith!
~ Scruff begins to lay the count on Savage, who grabs the ropes for some extra leverage. Morbidus is struggling for breath as “The Demon” is finally made to break the hold, and backs into the middle of the ring, arms aloft as he plays to the booing crowd… ~
Hood: Lance Savage showing exactly no mercy on The True Living Vampire tonight.
Smith: Some might say Savage is a little arrogant...
Hood: Of course he's arrogant, Smith! He's got reason to be! Look of the size of him.
~ As Morbidus, grasping at his throat, gets to his feet, Savage flexes an impressive bicep for the crowd, and rushes in with a lariat. 'The True Living Vampire', however, manages to duck, reaches back, and… ~
Hood: WHAT?!
Smith: HANGMAN NECKBREAKER!! WHAT A MOVE BY MORBIDUS!
Hood: Where the heck did he pull that one from?!
Smith: You can never count out a vampire in a fight.
~ Savage cradles his head, but Morbidus is able to make a quick cover… ~
ONE …
TWO …
THR-
~ Morbidus seems a little disappointed, but he doesn't waste any time, going right back to Savage, and lifting the champ back to his feet by the hair. Morbidus connects with a stiff European uppercut, which has Savage reeling, and whips him across the ring… ~
Smith: Savage fired across...
Hood: Come on, Demon!
~ ’The True Living Vampire' lashes out with a savate side-kick, but hits nothing but air. Savage grabs on to the ropes, and slingshots himself out of the ring, under the bottom rope. ~
Smith: Savage, now, out of the ring...
Hood: That's it, Lance! Take five.
~ Morbidus, however, isn't about to let his momentum slip away like that, and quickly follows "The Demon" to the outside. The True Living Vampire cracks a forearm over the back of an unaware Savage, sending him staggering into the barricade before he throws The Demon shoulder first into it. ~
Smith: They're battling on the outside, now!
Hood: Get outta their, Savage!
Smith: Morbidus taking control of the man who calls himself The Demon.
~ Savage is clutching at his right shoulder as Morbidus spins him around, snatches hold of his arm, and flings him, with tremendous force, back into the railing… ~
Smith: SAVAGE INTO THE GUARD-RAIL! And Savage nearly ended up in the FRONT ROW!
Hood: This is all apart of The Demon’s plan he is letting Morbidus think he has the upper hand.
~ With "The Demon" slumped over the rail, Morbidus heads over to the corner of the ring, and grabs the steel steps… ~
Smith: Wait a minute! What's Morbidus DOING?
Hood: Stop him, ref! He's going for those steps!
Smith: We have seen some extreme matches in OCW history, but this is NOT a no-disqualification match…
Hood: Exactly! Stop him, ref! Disqualify him!
~ In an impressive show of power, Morbidus presses the steps over his head, as Savage begins to regain his senses. Scruff is attempting to stop the madness from inside the ring, but Morbidus can't hear him over the cheering of the crowd. Steps aloft... he rushes in… ~
Smith: OH MY GOD!!
Hood: YES!! YES!! GENIUS!!
Smith: SAVAGE CONNECTED WITH A BIG BOOT BACK INTO THE STAIRS WHICH GOES RIGHT INTO THE TRUE LIVING VAMPIRE'S FACE!!
Hood: I hope Savage broke Morbidus nose.
~ The stairs clatter to the ground, and Morbidus hits the ringside mats hard. Savage still seems a little shaken as he plucks his opponent up from the ring floor, and rolls him back into the ring. ~
Smith: Great counter by Savage, and Morbidus may be OUT...
Hood: Let's hope so!
~ Savage wastes no time on returning to the ring, quickly dropping into a cover of Morbidus. Scruff slides in to make the count… ~
Smith: Cover! Count!
Hood: Yes! This is it!
ONE …
TWO …
~ In the meantime, The Demon has propped his feet on the second rope to gain some illegal leverage in the pin. Scruff sees this, and immediately stops counting. ~
Hood: What?! What's WRONG with you, referee!
Smith: Savage had his feet on the ropes!
Hood: So?
Smith: He's trying to CHEAT his way to victory!
Hood: So?
~ At the announce table, Smith lets out an audible, exasperated sigh, as Savage gets back to his feet, and walks straight into a heated argument with the referee. As the two exchange words, Morbidus shakes off his cobwebs, and gets to his feet. ~
Smith: Morbidus's back up! Savage doesn't see him!
~ As oblivious as Savage is he continues to berate Scruff, 'The True Living Vampire', from behind, drops to his knees and RACKS him with a low blow that leaves the male contingent of the crowd wincing. ~
Smith: LOW BLOW!
Hood: And you know that hurts Lance more than the average guy...
Smith: Savage getting a taste of his own medicine...
~ As Savage keels over, Morbidus, slowed slightly by the fatigue, grabs him, and hooks him up for a side leg-sweep. The crowd sounds something of a pop, as 'The True Living Vampire' sets, and delivers… ~
Smith: OH MY!
Hood: What the heck was that?!
Smith: Innovative offense by Morbidus! A modified Russian legsweep, into a faceslam! Savage hit hard, and Morbidus may have him!
~ Savage, indeed, seems to be out for the count, but, that move must have taken its toll on Morbidus as he is still down on the mat. Morbidus is the first man to his feet as he picks up Savage by his hair and then lifts him onto his shoulders. ‘The True Living Vampire’ begins to spin around with “The Demon” on his should and goes to hit a fireman’s carry face buster but Savage somehow manages to land on his feet. Morbidus is sitting on the mat thinking he has just Eternal Suffering but when he looks over he is shocked to see Savage is standing on his feet. Morbidus pushes himself off the mat and goes for a lariat on Savage but “The Demon” ducks underneath the lariat. As Morbidus bounces off the rope he gets drilled with a big boot. Savage then follows it up with a leg drop across the throat of his opponent. Savage doesn’t waste any time and picks up Morbidus by his hair and drives him into the mat with a kneeling reverse piledriver. ~
Hood: VICIOUS DEATH BY THE DEMON!
~ Lance Savage has a smirk on his face as he covers Morbidus by placing by his hands on his opponent’s chest. ~
ONE …
TWO …
THREE
Belvedere: The winner of this match … “THE DEMON” LANCE SAVAGE!!!!!
Smith: Wow!! This one has to be considered a shocker…The Demon with the victory over Morbidus.
Hood: That settles it…Demons are more dangerous than vampires
Smith: That debate will rage on, most likely. However, tonight, there is little doubt that Lance Savage was the better, uhm, man.
Hood: It’s official…the eye patch is IN
Smith: You’re a fan, now?
Hood: Oh, it’s not fashionable for us normal people. However, for one eyed demons, it’s definitely a catchy piece of garb.
Smith: Right…well Robert Morbidus will have to go back to the drawing board alongside Mr. Judas. Lance Savage, meanwhile, looks to move up the OCW ladder…this win will give him a nice boost.
Hood: Demons don’t naturally like to ascend, they sort of like to hang out underground and shit…but I get your point.
Smith: Indeed…alright folks, let’s head backstage!
~The camera fades backstage and you see “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell walking with a medium sized box in his arms. O’Donnell seems to be in a good mood, whistling as he walks down the hallway. He reaches a door and puts the box down. CJ brushes his shoulders off and the front of his shirt before he knocks three times. As the door opens you notice a smile come across the face of The Distinguished. ~
CJ O’Donnell: Alice you are looking stunning this evening.
~CJ tries to enter Knight’s locker room but is cut off by a look from the OCW Champion. ~
CJ O’Donnell: “Easy there killer .. I am here to apologize for my mouth last week. It was not very distinguished of me to speak to a lady in that manner.”
Alice Knight: "Yeah that was… you know what? No worries. Just have a lot on the mind. MJ Bell. Annie Alvarez. I may have ran over a squirrel driving here tonight. Just so much to deal with and…. Like i said. No worries."
~ Alice gives CJ a thumbs up. And goes to shut the door. CJ sticks his foot in the door. ~
CJ O’Donnell: "Wait … What happened to southern hospitality? Aren’t you going to invite me in? Don’t you want to know what is inside this box?"
~ CJ points down to the box directly in front of him and then flashes a smile at Alice. ~
Alice Knight: "I assumed it was something for your friends. The Aptitude as you call yourselves. Why, is it for me? Because if it’s Gwyneth Paltrow’s head… I’m going to scream."
~ CJ shakes his head no. ~
CJ O’Donnell: “Why would I buy something for Meyhu and Bishop when they already have everything they need. So yes it is for you and I do not think Paltrow’s head would fit in this size of a box. Plus I am pretty sure if it was the CIA, FBI and Friends fans would want me hung by my balls while they have me watch reruns of Friends.
~ CJ lifts up the box and goes to hand it to Alice. ~
CJ O’Donnell: "Consider this a gift as a peace offering yet also a gift for becoming the NEW OCW CHAMPION!"
~ Alice opens the door. ~
Alice Knight: "I guess you can come in. But you do know that Mr. Bishop, the ‘Incredible’ one, hates my guts, right?"
~CJ enters the locker room carrying the medium sized box in his hands. He walks over to the bench and places it on top of it as he turns around to face Alice. ~
CJ O’Donnell: “TIO is his own man like I am my own man. And I must say he doesn’t hate your guts. Personally I think he is leery of you because you can be kind of a loose cannon. No one knows what to expect when it comes to you. That is why MJ Bell attacked you because she needed the upper hand. It was a pathetic move from her. Kind of being a sore loser if you ask me.”
Alice Knight: "Yes, it was somewhat sad what she did. Somewhat? Very sad, really. So unlike her. So… should I open the box?"
CJ O’Donnell: “MJ Bell has many people fooled but I have always thought she was a coward. I know others would disagree with me but who wants to be popular anyway right. You can do whatever your little heart desires. I have learned at a young age never to tell a woman what to do as she is going to do what she wants when she wants.”
~ Alice nods, a little suspicious. She approaches the box as if there was a bomb inside. She slowly opens it. Alice blocks the camera’s point of view as she takes out the gift. She turns around holding a bird cage. Inside you see the swing and it is not your normal bird swing. It is a replica of the OCW championship that Alice Knight has on the table. Alice smiles, maybe smiling for the first time since winning her OCW Championship. ~
Alice Knight: "Wow. This is… very thoughtful, CJ. Thank you."
CJ O’Donnell: You're welcome but no need to thank me. You have a very pretty smile, Alice you honestly should smile more often as it lights up the room."
~ CJ trying to put the charm on Knight but it seems like she knows what he is up to. ~
CJ O’Donnell: "Look I am not going to beat around the bush any longer. Your time is valuable as is mine. MJ Bell she is going to be a thorn in your side. PerZag and Grenier are going to be lurking around the corner. They all want what you have. They are jealous of you because you have that OCW Championship. Yes, I know you have the Owl-heads and the Dravers Boys but do you really think in your heart of hearts that will be enough?"
~ Alice shrugs. ~
Alice Knight: "It might have to be. It’s hard to trust anyone. Being the OCW Champion. Everyone is gunning for you… me. And after what MJ pulled I may have some trust issues. No offense. Jonathan and Nathan are the only two I can truly trust right now."
CJ O’Donnell: "None taken. But hear me out for one second …"
~ Dramatic pause from The Distinguished … as Alice interrupts~
Alice Knight: "For someone who gave me such a wonderful gift. I’ll give you more than a second… maybe like a minute? Just kidding…"
CJ O’Donnell: "The Dravers Boys are still wet behind the ears rookies. Sure they may have something like twin magic but when the shit hits the fan will they run or will they fight? Then you know when MJ Bell is around it is only a matter of time before her little boy toy comes to be her knight and shining armor. It is easy to win a championship but it is ten times harder to keep it as you are now the hunted. TIO, Meyhu and myself are all proven veterans and while we may not be trusted have you really even tried to trust us? Have you given us the opportunity to earn your trust? "
Alice Knight: "I guess you’re right. But Ian… sorry, “TIO” is it? We have gone to battle more than once… and it never ended pretty. And The Dravers Boys are young and new to the bizz but they are capable of more than you think. They might surprise you. As for you and Meyhu. I’m not sure what to think. One week you fancy my caboose and then this week you give me this."
~ Alice holds up the cage. ~
CJ O’Donnell: "I am still fancying your caboose but I am doing it in a gentleman way. How about this, a proposition … If myself and Meyhu walk out tonight as your NEW Tag Team Champions you will at least consider my offer. If we don’t and the Dravers pull off the upset of the millennium then I am just your typical guy who is blowing smoke up your ass and trying to get in … "
~CJ suddenly stops and changes the topic. ~
CJ O’Donnell: "I know you don’t need it Alice but good luck tonight in your match. I’ll be watching closely and just think about what I said. Keep your friends close but your enemies are people you want to go to war with and something tells me soon you will realize just how lonesome it can be at the top with the wrong people."
~CJ gives Knight a wink as he goes in for a hug but Knight is not having any of that as she pushes O’Donnell away and one of the most awkward handshakes that has ever happened in OCW history takes place. We cut back to ringside. ~
Hood: What the fuck is with all the ALICE tonight, geezus.
Smith: She's like Hansel...she's so hot right now
Hood: Yea well somebody needs to turn the oven off because that shit is burnt to a crisp
Smith: As much as I enjoy seeing her...I will say that interaction…makes me nervous
Hood: Same here…there sure were a lot of ass references…makes me fear we might see scat play on OCW television.
Smith: Scat play? Like Scattergories?
Hood: Hell no, that’d be even worse. There was also a lot of talk about opening boxes and beating around bushes. I’d hate to see Aptitude get taken down by an STD
Smith: Oh please, you’re overreacting
Hood: I don’t know. Have you seen Max Shade? It’s obvious we aren’t running physicals on anybody around here.
Smith: Regardless…she seems to be tentatively entertaining the offer. For her sake, I hope the Dravers retain tonight and effectively kill any budding partnership. The last thing Alice needs is somebody with ulterior motives whispering into her ear…
Hood: Ah geez…you act like she’s this innocent creature. She slaughtered her pet owl on TV last week and now she’s running over squirrels on the way to the show…what’s next, Smith? How far will this murderer go until she’s stopped?
Smith: THAT’S ENOUGH
Hood: Alright, fine…you know what I would have put in that box?
Smith: The severed head of that owl you claim she viciously murdered on live television.
Hood: Umm….NO
Smith: C’mon, admit it…I busted you. I saw that coming a mile away.
Hood: A lock of MJ’s orange hair…
Smith: First of all…solid rebound. Second…why would you even have that?
Hood: Hey, isn’t there a match coming up?
Belvedere: Our next contest is set for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit. Introducing first …
~”Smart Went Crazy” by Atmosphere fills the arena. The fans stand. Most of them cheer for the former Champion. However, with “BOO!” plastered across the tron and Larry the Superfan’s encouragement. A good number boo the Canadian. The Canadian’s in attendance, the ones cheering the loudest for Grenier, battle back. It creates a very strange environment. Bob doesn’t give it any notice. He remains directly focused on the ring. He enters and stand in the corner. ~
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…Bob Grenier!!! And his opponent …
~ 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: Hailing from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’7 and weighing in at 240lbs…Rebel!!!
~ The two break and back up, beginning to circle each other. Once again Grenier makes the first move, lunging in to go for an early ground and pound. Rebel moves right along with him, anticipating the move and catching him in the face with a hard running knee! Bob Grenier's head snaps back as he stumbles, catching himself but checking his face for blood after the impact. Bob Grenier comes in again, thick arm cocked for a burning lariat. Rebel ducks and they each hit the ropes on opposite sides of the ring. Rebounding, they fly at each other at full speed. Rebel leaps at the last second and hooks Bob Grenier's head for a spinning sitout sleeper slam that shakes the entire ring! Rebel springs right back to his feet and delivers a savage stomp to one of Bob Grenier's arms. ~
Hood: Rebel may be starting a strategy early, working on that arm to begin wearing him down.
Smith: Or maybe he just wanted to. I'd like to stomp him too.
Hood: Relax, Smith, you wouldn't have any idea what to do in the ring.”
~ Bob Grenier rolls out of the way before Rebel can hit a second stomp. As he gets to his feet he hits the middle rope and leaps off, twisting mid-air and hitting a big forearm smash that takes them both to the mat! Rebel comes up on top and throws a fist into his face. Bob Grenier uses his size and rolls over, quickly hitting a headbutt that leaves Rebel dizzy on the canvas. He gets to his feet and bounces off of the middle rope again, this time for a springboard leg drop that catches Rebel across the midsection! Bob Grenier looks as though he's going to try for an early pin, but Rebel throws a foot right into his face and sends him staggering backward! Just as Rebel gets to his feet Bob Grenier flies back toward his. He uses his momentum against him and drills him into the mat with a snap scoop slam! Without a moment of hesitation he drops a knee right into his chest! A second knee drop follows, this one to the shoulder he had already stomped. A third connects with his face! Before Rebel can fire off another movie, Bob Grenier takes his feet out from under his with a Russian leg sweep! The audience goes wild as he leaps up and hits a picture perfect standing moonsault. The official drops for the count as Bob Grenier hooks one of Rebel's legs. ~
ONE …
TWO …
Smith: Shoulder up!
~ Rebel kicks out with authority before the ref can even get to two. Grabbing a fistful of Bob Grenier's hair, he blasts him with a headbutt of his own! Keeping hold of his hair despite a warning from the ref, he uses it to pull him to his feet, then whip him down to the mat with a snapmare! After dragging him up again he changes his hold, hooking an arm around his neck. He runs to the corner, lifts his feet up, launches off of the ropes and takes him down with a springboard bulldog! Bob Grenier rolls over just in time to see an incoming elbow drop. Rebel misses by a fraction of an inch as he escapes under the bottom rope, his arm colliding with the mat. He yells in frustration, holding his elbow as he gets to his feet, eyeing Bob Grenier on the outside of the ring. He starts to slide back in but quickly changes his mind when he makes a move toward him. Rebel suddenly backs up and then throws himself through the top and middle ropes with a suicide dive, catching Bob Grenier and driving him spine first into the announcer's table! Bob Grenier slaps his hand against the floor several time as he holds his back. Rebel is feeling the impact as well as he is slow to roll over. ~
Hood: A high risk maneuver from Rebel, but it seems to have paid off! Our entire table just shifted from the impact!
Smith: My monitor is all fuzzy now! I think they knocked something loose. These OCW stars are bringing the action here tonight.
~ Bob Grenier uses the table to pull himself up to his feet first. As Rebel stands he hits his with a big flying forearm that drives his back into the barricade! He goes for a second, but he catches his arm and shoves him back. Rebel leaps up and hooks his head for a jumping DDT that drives him right in to the barely padded floor!!! Having warned them both several times to get back into the ring, the official starts the count out. ~
ONE …
TWO …
THREE …
Smith: The battle continues out here on the floor. Neither one is paying any mind to the warnings from the official!
Hood: Bob Grenier is going to be feeling that shot for days, I could hear it hit!
~ Bob Grenier clutches the back of his head, but still starts to get up even after the painful impact. Rebel is on his feet first and catches him just as he gets to his knees. He grabs his hair once again, holding him in place as he drives his knee into his face. Rebel goes for a second, but Bob Grenier catches his leg this time! As he shoves it away he counters with a dragon whip, catching him in the back of the head! Somehow Bob Grenier still manages to roll out of the way before Rebel can hit a stomp to his spine! Though he sways, he gets back to his feet as quickly as he can. Using the steel stairs instead of the ropes, he launches off and flies backward, catching him with a springboard stunner! Rebel snaps backward and stumbles into the barricade, just barely managing to catch himself before sagging to the floor. ~
FOUR …
FIVE …
SIX …
~ Bob Grenier backs up a few steps before racing in for a cannonball senton! Rebel holds his chest and stomach from the impact, struggling to get air back into his lungs. While he's still out of it, Bob Grenier grabs his wrist and whips his directly into the steel stairs! The impact echoes through the complex as Rebel hits the metal steps and falls backwards across them, lying still as he tries to recover. Bob Grenier eyes his for a second before turning his attention to the announcer's table. He hops straight up on top of it, mentally measuring the distance between himself and his target. He gestures to the crowd as the cheers become deafening. Leaping from the table, he does a full flip in the air and his leg comes crashing down across Rebel's chest! ~
Hood: OHMYGOD!!! Bob Grenier just hit a 360 guillotine legdrop off of our announcer's table onto Rebel on the steel stairs!!!
SEVEN …
EIGHT …
NINE
~ Not content with a count out victory, Bob Grenier grabs Rebel and rolls back into the ring with his. He looks surprised as he ends up on top, straddling his at the waist. For a moment they lock eyes. No one can quite tell what is going through either of their heads. That is, until Rebel whips his legs up, wraps them around his neck, and uses the force to flip his body off of his! ~
Smith: Don't you look at Rebel like that, you show off!
Hood: I'm not sure that was an intentional look. Sometimes two people happen to look at each other at the same time and it doesn't mean anything.
Smith: No way, he was starting to have inappropriate thoughts, I could tell.”[/color]
~ Bob Grenier makes a run at the corner, hopping up to the middle rope, but Rebel is already there and kicks his feet out from under him. His legs hang up on the ropes on one side of the ring post and the rest of his body catches the ropes on the opposite side. Rebel grabs the top rope and leaps up as high as he can, coming crashing down into Bob Grenier's midsection with a diving double knee drop! Bob Grenier clutches his ribs as he hits the mat, rolling away from the corner. He is clearly feeling the impact, taking several moments to even start to try to get up. He gets his hands beneath him first and pushes up onto his knees. Meanwhile, Rebel has hopped back up onto the top rope, facing inward and watching him like a hawk. Bob Grenier turns as he gets to his feet and Rebel leaps off, flipping over him and catching his head for a blockbuster neckbreaker! As they hit the mat he whips himself around and hooks his leg! ~
ONE …
TWO …
THR -
Hood: Grenier kicked out before the three! Rebel almost had him, but he's still in the game!
~ Rebel curses as he rolls onto his back to catch his breath. Grenier keeps moving, however! He gets to his feet and leaps up onto the top rope that he had just jumped off of. Holding up his arms to amp up the audience some more, he flies off for a missile dropkick aimed right at Rebel's head! He rolls out of the way at the last second as Grenier collides with the mat hard enough to rattle the ring! Rebel is on his feet first, circling around behind Bob Grenier as he waits for him to get up. The impact with the canvas has left him disoriented. His head whips around as he looks for his opponent, but Rebel is already capitalizing! He races at his back, leaps up and grabs his shoulders. Rebel’s knees find Grenier’s spine as he falls backward and pulls him down into a backstabber! As he holds his spine with one hand, Rebel leaves him behind and goes for the corner once again. He climbs up onto the top rope and crouches, holding on for balance while he waits for Grenier to stand once again. The moment he's on his feet he turns, knowing just where Rebel is, but he's too late and he catches him with a diving knee attack! Before Rebel can go for the pin, Grenier uses his size advantage once again, rolling over and tangling up his legs, locking in an STF! Rebel snarls in frustration, trying to pry his arms loose, but with no success. He stretches his arm toward the ropes, fingers coming up just short! With a determined sound he tries to heave himself forward, but Grenier drags his back! ~
Smith: Come on, Rebel, get to the ropes, you can do it!
Hood: He was almost there, but Bob Grenier is doing everything he can to make his tap out with that step-over toehold facelock!
Smith: He'll never tap out!
~ Rebel twists as far as he can, throwing an elbow into his temple! The hold loosens just enough for his to surge forward again! But Grenier tightens back up just before he can grab the bottom rope! Rebel growls again and throws another elbow, this one catching him on the jaw! As his grip slips he lunges and grabs the rope! The referee calls for the break and Grenier grudgingly lets go. Both competitors are slow to get to their feet, Rebel using the ropes to pull himself up and Bob Grenier sitting back on his heels as he gets to his knees. They stare daggers across the ring at one another while they catch their breath, both looking tired but determined. Rebel launches off of the ropes first! Bob Grenier leaps to his feet and then shoves off of the match, jumping into the air and catching his with a reverse bulldog! As they hit the mat he rolls over and hooks the leg! ~
ONE …
TWO …
KICKOUT
Hood: Another pin attempt, this one by Bob Grenier, but Rebel kicked out!
~ Grenier pounds the side of his fist into the mat with frustration, curling both fists in his hair as he rolls onto his back, wondering what he has to do to put Rebel away! Rebel rolls over as well and drives and elbow into his chest right there on the canvas! He flips to his feet with a kip up and puts a world of heat behind another elbow drop! He gets to his feet at the same time Rebel leaps up again. He goes for a running clothesline, but he catches his arm and hits his with a stiff forearm. Rebel stumbles back and Grenier presses the advantage, driving his toward the corner with a series of forearm strikes. He collides with the turnbuckle and Bob Grenier hauls his out, spinning his around and lifting his up to set his on the top rope. He climbs to the middle turnbuckle himself, setting his up for what looks like a superplex! Rebel shifts his weight and hooks his legs around his neck, falling backward and whipping him off of the ropes with a reverse hurricanrana. ~
Hood: Rebel is trying to pull out all the spots here tonight.
Smith: Now Rebel has used it to get out of a tight spot. A hit from that height would have been devastating.
Hood: Rebel knows exactly what he's doing.
~ Rebel is still shaking off the cobwebs from the forearms, allowing Bob Grenier to be the one on his feet first. He circles around his, waiting until he's just starting to get to his feet, still partially leaning over. Leaping up from the mat, he catches his right across the back of the neck with a leg drop bulldog! Bob Grenier starts to hook the leg, but Rebel thinks quick and rolls back out of the ring under the bottom rope! Grenier changes course quickly, hopping up onto the top turnbuckle. He waits just a second for Rebel to stand up fully before leaping off. He catches his neck and hits a flying DDT from the top rope to the outside!!! They both go down hard, laying in a heap on the thin padding that covers the floor while the referee shakes his head and starts another count. ~
ONE …
TWO …
THREE …
~Unbelievably, Rebel is the first to start moving. He uses the barricade to haul himself to his feet. He holds the back of his head with one hand as he waits on Bob Grenier, keeping his eyes glued to his younger opponent. The crowd is on its feet, cheering wildly for both wrestlers. Bob Grenier finally stands, leaning back heavily on the ring apron as he watches Rebel. He makes the first move and charges his as he tries to take a step and one leg gives out! But Rebel was just luring him in! As soon as he's close enough he leaps up and hooks his head, wrapping his legs around his body as well. He whips him back with a guillotine DDT right into the announcer's table!!! ~
Hood: Not again! Our table is about ready to fall apart!
Smith: My monitor is completely out now. Good thing they are right here in front of us, I guess.
FOUR …
FIVE …
SIX
~ It's Rebel's turn to lean on the apron as he gets to his feet first. Bob Grenier's forehead is bleeding from the impact against the announcer's table, but he wipes his face and ignores it as he starts to pull himself up as well. He bull rushes in looking for a massive lariat, but Rebel ducks his big arm and wraps him up for a straight-jacket neckbreaker! Bodies running almost on auto-pilot, they both force themselves to their feet yet again! Rebel starts to rush in, but Bob Grenier thinks fast and nails a huge superkick! The impact practically echoes even over the sounds of the crowd! Rebel stumbles into the ring steps and catches imself. As Grenier charges Rebel he uses his weight and speed against him for a snap suplex right onto the steel stairs! ~
SEVEN …
EIGHT …
NINE
~ Grenier and Rebel both seem to hear the count at the same time and throw themselves back into the ring before the official can get to ten. ~
Smith: Another close call by both Grenier and Rebel. The referee is starting to look a little exasperated, isn't he?
Hood: When you have two people as determined as Bob Grenier and Rebel, you never know what will happen. I don't know how either of them are still going, but they refuse to give up!
~ Rebel is the first to move, shoving his arms under himself and pushing up, looking around the ring to get his eyes on his opponent. Grenier has pulled himself up and is hanging on the middle rope. The crowd is cheering back and forth, half for Bob Grenier and half for Rebel, urging them both to get up. Rebel gets onto his knees and sits back on his heels, taking his time while Grenier is still hung on the rope. Finally, as Grenier grabs the top rope and pulls himself vertical, Rebel forces himself to his feet as well. He rushes him again for a forearm shot, but he catches his arm and stops his in his tracks! Hauling back as far as he can, Grenier throws a huge haymaker right into his face! ~
Hood: Grenier just hit Rebel all the way from The Back Pocket!!
~ The force sends Rebel stumbling all the way across the ring toward the ropes on the opposite side. Just before impact he leaps up and launches off of the middle rope, twisting his body midair and catching Bob Grenier on the jaw with a springboard spinning European uppercut! ~
Smith: Lights Out for Bob Grenier!
~ Grenier and Rebel are both on their feet again at the same time!!! They collide in the middle of the ring, Grenier looking to hit his finisher the Hollinger Park Hangman but Rebel sees it coming and uses all his force to drive Grenier back first into the corner. Rebel doesn’t give Grenier a chance to rest and hits a snap suplex then leaps up to the top ropes and in a fluid motion comes off hitting a 450 Splash off the top ropes. ~
Smith: The Revolution by Rebel and he is hooking the leg.
ONE ..
TWO …
THREE
Belvedere: The winner of this match … REBEL!!!
~The bell rings as Rebel gets to his feet with his hand raised high. His eyes are wide as he’s in a state of shock. The crowd is cheering loudly for the up and coming newcomer~
Smith: MONUMENTAL upset, Hood! Rebel has defeated the former OCW Champion…this man, last week, was one pinfall away from winning the OCW Title for a second time.
Hood: Shit, I didn’t see that coming. This felt like OCW trying to rebuild Grenier…good for the dude who rides motorcycles onto golf courses
Smith: Well, he is rebellious…sheesh…this opens a ton of doors. Where does Rebel go from here? Could he be the next homegrown OCW megastar?
Hood: Calm down, you’re acting like a psycho planning marriage after one date. It was a great fucking win and he’s looking really good so far but..let’s pump the brakes. This roster is Bifford thick.
Smith: That’s mighty thin…but, with the adulation of Rebel’s victory comes the dejection of Bob’s defeat. Where does he go from here?
Hood: Bob’s a fuckin champ in every sense…he’s been knocked down before. Fucker will get back up, that’s just who he is.
Smith: Indeed…well folks, let’s head backstage!
~We cut back from commercial to the backstage area. Another week that Treat Cassidy has got a quality spread. For being so unliked by OCW brass, he seems to have a decent locker room each and every week. Cassidy sits behind his desk, Mack Hollywood and Chad Vargas share a couch before Cassidy’s desk.~
Vargas: I’m gettin’ pretty fuckin’ bored, hoss – this whole not competing shit. I’ve been off for two straight weeks. What exactly am I paying you for if you can’t negotiate me a quality match?
~Hollywood looks over at Vargas who polishes his 9mm. He then looks up to Cassidy, awaiting his response like a kid witnessing his parents arguing.~
Cassidy: You need to be patient, Chad. I am working diligently on lining up something for you for next week. If everything goes as planned, you may be going against the tag team champions with a new addition to the Clientele.
Vargas: What do you mean, maybe? CJ Donovan told me to take my challenge and cram it up my ass, some tough guy, ahh Mack?
~Mack Hollywood chuckles at the mention of CJ being a tough guy, and the complete disregard Vargas has for saying his name properly.~
Cassidy: It’s O’Donnell, Chad. And despite that, he isn’t the freakin’ boss. So him telling you to cram your challenge really is meaningless. I’m working with the actual boss to secure this match. Tag titles or not, I’m trying to line you and your partner up with these two jagoffs.
Vargas: But, OCW brass hates you, Cassidy. Marcus Welsh wouldn’t piss on you if you we’re burning I don’t believe, and Eastern European you have to know how pathetic he is.
Cassidy: I don’t go through them. I go straight to the top of the line, Mr. Buffet himself.
Vargas: No wonder these asshats don’t like you, hoss – you realize there is such a thing as chain of command. I don’t give a fuck who you have to go through, just get the fuckin’ contact drawn up and I’ll sign whatever I gotta sign. Who is this mystery partner? Don’t tell me your gonna team me up with gunslinger over there last time I wrestled with him he threw his god damn back out sneezing in the first 60 seconds of the match.
Hollywood: Hey fuck off, Chad! That was a legitimate injury. I’m not a fucking wrestler. I’m a fucking body guard. See!
~Hollywood holds up his gun.~
Vargas: Yeah yeah, we get it Mack, you’re a bad ass. I ain’t quite figured it out yet, who is more bad you or CJ Donovan.
~Vargas laughs as Mack shakes his head at the insult hurled his way.~
Vargas: Nah I’m just kiddin’ buddy, your bad assery is much greater than Donovan’s.
Cassidy: Chad… I understand you don’t rightly care, but it’s O’Donnell. But no, your partner will not be Mack Hollywood. He will never wrestle again if I ever have anything to say about it. Sorry Mack, but a 0-19 singles record over 15 years is less than stellar, let’s just say. Chad, if this all comes together you will know who your partner is this evening, and let’s just say, with our new arrival, Mack O’Connor, and yourself, we are going to be absolutely unstoppable. It’s time to tip the scale a little in our favor now, boys.
Vargas: Fuck yeah. Just get me a fuckin’ match, hoss!
~The scene fades~
Smith: It’s been two weeks since Chad Vargas has been in competition, it’s been two weeks too long!
Hood: I used to like Vargas, he is softening up.
Smith: Who do you think the next member of Treat Cassidy’s Clientele is?
Hood: If it isn’t Big Bifford, I don’t give a shit!
Smith: Stay with us ladies and gentleman, I’m sure we will find out later on!
Hood: It was nice to have a break from YOU KNOW WHO in a backstage bit
Smith: You think so, huh? Well our next match should make you really happy
Hood: Oh yea? Is it APTITUDE TIME?
Smith: Nooooot quite...before I get to it, I'd like to thank our sponsor for this evening. It's a familiar name for Jimmy Buffet fans...tonight's Massacre is brought to you by LANDSHARK!
Hood: WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!
Smith: Huh? What the?? That's not our sponsor!! Who put that up there??
Hood: Dude why ISN'T that our sponsor? Beats the shit out of all these fucking owls...that's a sponsor I could get behind!
Smith: Somebody fix this right now! Landshark BEER is our sponsor...Landshark BEER
Smith: Whew...there we go. Landshark beer everybody! Go out and drink to your hearts content.
Hood: Hell yea, sounds like fun
Smith: WHILE REMEMBERING to be responsible, of course
Hood: Oh, of course...so this land shark shit...I just did a google search and did you know there's a sex act called Landshark?
Smith: You can stop right there, I do not need that bit of useless, debauched information rattling around my semi-pristine mind
Hood: I'm going to tell you anyway. The landshark is a sexual act where a man and his partner stand at opposite ends of the room. the woman bends over and braces against the wall while the man clasps his hands over his head imitating a shark. He then begins humming the jaws theme song and sprints across the room, lead by his erection, and attempts to penetrate either the vagina or anus with his momentus impact.
Smith: Ugh...disgusting
Hood: Seriously, man, that shit is like more hardcore than half our roster's finishers.
Smith: On that note, let's head down to ringside for something that will cheer me up...something that isn't dirty...let's get a look at the OCW Champion, Alice Knight!
Hood: I'd rather be landsharked!
Non-Title Match
Alice Knight (4-0) vs. Annie Alvarez (2-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following is a Non-Title Match and it is scheduled for one fall…
~”Girl All the Bad Guys Want” by Bowling for Soup begins to play. The undefeated, OCW veteran Annie Alvarez appears from behind the curtain. She motions with her index finger. Coe and Puffer appear. They each take a side, she interlocks her arms in theirs and together they walk to the ring. Annie lets go and slides into the ring. Coe takes one side, Puffer the other~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Los Angeles, California…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 125lbs…Annie Alvarez!
~Alvarez says some words to Coe, then some words to Puffer. The side of the ring facing the ramp is unoccupied, as is the side of the ring furthest from the ramp. “Electrified" by Dressy Bessy begins to play as the fans turn and cheer. Alice Knight steps out on top of the ramp with the OCW Title over her shoulder. The fans go crazy! “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” fills the arena. Alice smiles and kind of shrugs as though it’s no big deal…her face is a little puffy, but overall in solid shape…she makes her way to the ring carrying 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 she hoists the title high above her head to a tremendous ovation. Alvarez stands back, staring with envy~
Belvedere: And her opponent, from Bethel, New York…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is the CURRENT OCW CHAMPION….ALICE KNIGHT!!!
~The bell rings with Alice hooting for some reason. Well, we know the reason…we just figure she might should pay attention to her opponent. Alvarez rushes in and grabs Alice by the legs. She hoists Alice onto her shoulders. Alice drops the title out of surprise. Annie falls back and plants Alice in the center of the ring with an Electric Chair!! Annie gets to her feet and looks down at Alice with, umm, malice. The fans boo~
Smith: A sneak attack! I’m telling you, that Annie Alvarez is up to no good…she’s praying on the weak.
Hood: True, she did take this match against Alice Knight so she does like weak opponents
Smith: I was talking about Puffer and Coe!
Hood: I will say, Alice has impressed me…
Smith: How so?
Hood: She’s had that title for a week and managed to stay out of the pawn shop.
~Annie nudges Alice’s face a bit with her foot. She then stomps on it as hard and vicously as she can. Alice grabs her face and kicks her legs. She rolls onto her belly in an effort to cover up. Annie heads over for the title. She picks up the OCW Title and looks into it, seeing the reflection of her face in the gold. She holds it up. The crowd boos. Annie then licks the front of the title long and seductively. The typically classy OCW crowd of 2017 breaks into a loud chant of “WHORE! WHORE! WHORE!” Annie laughs and tosses the title over the top rope. Tatum Coe catches it~
Smith: The audacity of this crowd!
Hood: I know…we’ve got Alice Knight and Annie Alvarez in the center of the ring and they’d rather see some backstage interviewer.
Smith: Those chants were directed at Annie
Hood: Oh, really?
Smith: Yes
Hood: Hmm, I don’t get it. She doesn’t look like much of a whore to me. I’d call her more of a slut.
Smith: Stop
~Coe looks at the title and positions it around his waist. Puffer watches from across the ring. Annie turns her attention back to Alice. Alice is on all fours, her face remains intact, no breaches. Annie rips at Alice’s hair, twerking her neck back. Alice hoots really loud. Annie lets go and kind of steps back, surprised. Alice then does almost a break dance with her hands, twisting her feet around and removing Annie’s base! Annie falls to the mat as the crowd goes wild. Alice then gets to her feet…she runs into the ropes, bounces off and drops a leg across Annie’s throat and chest. Alice pops back to her feet with the crowd on theirs, going wild~
Smith: Alice can break dance!
Hood: Why does that not surprise me?
Smith: Do you know how hard that is?
Hood: Not really…I mean she lives in rat infested trailers without furniture so she’s probably always sitting on the ground trying to avoid mice, rats, roaches, ants, etc.
~Alice spots her title around Coe’s waist. He models it for a few women in the front row. They reach out to stroke it. Some OWL HEADS come out of nowhere and rip their hands out of the way. Coe laughs and turns around. Alice leaps over the top rope with a plancha onto Coe!! She rips her belt away from him waist and pops to her feet. The owl heads stop assaulting the female fans and hoot at Alice. She gives him some kind of awkward fist bump/hand shake. Out of nowhere comes Annie! She flies through the ropes with a Suicide Dive!! Her head drills Alice in the back!! Alice stumbles into the barricade, accidentally nailing one of her owl heads with the title. She drops the title at her feet as Annie sits up against the barricade smiling. More boos reign down from the crowd~
Hood: This is getting out of control!
Smith: I’ve seen worse…Annie is just doing what she can
Hood: Those owl heads went all PURGE on those fans in the front row…we need security!
Smith: I don’t think it was THAT bad
Hood: And then that disgraceful Alice Knight viciously attacked them with the title Scott Syren used to wear…despicable.
Smith: That is an extremely warped prism you’re looking through
~Annie picks up the title and waits for Alice to get to her feet. Coe gets to his. Annie goes to hit Alice. Coe rips the title from Annie. Annie turns around, ready to slap him. Coe explains to her why he did what he did. She seems okay with it. She turns around and Alice throws a kick. Annie catches the kick and shoves back. Alice performs a back flip, landing on one knee. Annie charges, Alice stands and eats a lariat!! Annie picks Alice up and tosses her back into the ring. Annie hops onto the apron, jumps atop the ropes, balances and leaps off with an elbow into Alice’s throat!! Annie goes for a pin, Scruff makes the count~
1!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Nice effort but it’s going to take more than that to keep the OCW Champion down
Hood: Smart move by Coe…fucking guy might be pussy whipped but he still has a sharp mind toward success.
Smith: Indeed…had Annie hit Alice with that title, she may have been disqualified. And thus, lost an opportunity to pin the champ and insert herself into the title scene.
Hood: MAY HAVE been disqualified? Dude, Scruff and Alice go together like trash and bags. Scruff would have definitely disqualified the bitch.
~Annie gets to her feet, determined. She’s got the upper hand but needs to inflict more damage. She yanks Alice to a standing position. Annie drives a forearm into the chin of Alice. Alice staggers into the ropes. Annie knees her in the gut. Alice doubles over. Annie grabs Alice by the hair turns her around and tosses her through the ropes!! Alice lands hard at the feet of Jack Puffer. Annie looks down at Puffer. Puffer tosses up a bag of chips. Annie starts to hand them to Scruff. He reaches, but Annie pulls back. This distracts Scruff as Puffer starts to stomp on Alice. The fans boo and chant “BAD DETECTIVE!”~
Smith: This is a disgrace
Hood: ….
Smith: And don’t you DARE say it has anything to do with that very accurate chant directed at Jack Puffer
Hood: *grumbles*
~Puffer gets angry at the chants. He takes a fan’s owl doll and throws it under the ring. He then yells “I’ll show you!” He crawls under the ring and pulls it out, handing it to the fan. Everybody boos loudly and throws popcorn and soda at Puffer. He tries to run and duck out of the way. Scruff pushes Annie aside and jumps through the ropes, eating up all the loose popcorn. Annie tosses the chips out of the ring and goes after Alice. Puffer winds up on the side of the ring with Coe~
Smith: A total fiasco
Hood: I don’t know what more the man has to do…he just located that fan’s missing owl. Those things are way overpriced…that was a hell of a good deed right there.
Smith: Yea, if you completely ignore the fact that he took the owl seconds earlier
~Annie reaches for Alice’s hair. Alice is on all fours. Alice turns around and throws a handful of popcorn in Annie’s face!! Annie staggers back and Alice spears Annie into the side of the steps!! Annie slinks to the floor, holding her back in pain. Alice pops up and sees Puffer and Coe on the other side of the ring with her belt~
Smith: Nice comeback by Alice…now she’s got her eyes on taking that title away from those two losers
Hood: I guess being a bum does have its advantages. She’s pretty adept at food fighting
Smith: Do bums food fight? Seems like they’d value food
Hood: I don’t fucking know, do you think I’ve ever been homeless? All I’m saying is throwing food in a person’s face is such an Alice move
Smith: Well, she’s the champ, so she’s doing something right
Hood: Yea or this company is doing something WRONG
~Alice rounds the corner, facing Puffer and Coe. Annie peeks over the apron and yells at Coe and Puffer to attack Alice as she spots Scruff eating popcorn off the ground. Puffer and Coe don’t hear her as they are busy arguing over who gets to model the title around their waist~
Smith: This team has no cohesion
Hood: I wasn’t really offended when Coe put the title around his waist cause, ya know, that guy was a great wrestler…once…but if Jack fucking Puffer wears it, I might lose my shit
Smith: Really? So you’re turning on the good detective?
Hood: Not really, more so an indictment of our ‘champion’. First show with the title and she’s treating it like a toddler treats…well anything.
~Puffer grabs the title and pulls…Coe won’t let go. He pulls back. A game of tug o’ war ensues. Alice watches like an intrigued spectator. Coe and Puffer finally stop, feeling her presence. They turn around and eat a double clothesline!! They hit, hard…Alice grabs her title and slides into the ring. Annie face palms. She rolls her eyes and slides into the ring. She charges at Alice. Alice drops the belt and goes for a spinning heel kick. Annie ducks it and rolls Alice up. Scruff, with a mouth full of popcorn, slides in and makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Near fall…Alice is having some fun but she needs to stay sharp
Hood: Dude on her sharpest days she’s barely got the edge of a butter knife
Smith: A butter knife could do some damage, I mean, if used in the right spot
Hood: What, like the ass?
Smith: Ugh…never mind
~Annie gets to her feet quicker than Alice. She drills Alice in the gut with a Shining Wizard!! Alice doubles over. Annie grabs Alice’s head, looking for her finisher, Kiss the Mat. Alice powers out and lifts Annie for a powerbomb…Annie wraps her legs around Alice’s head and neck, she tires a huricanrana. Alice stands firm and turns the attempted huricanrana into a Boston Crab!! She sits back with Annie’s back nearly folded in half. Annie runs her fingers through her hair and grimaces in pain as Scruff asks if she wants to give it up~
Smith: Some nice wrestling there…counter after counter until Alice was able to lock Annie in a submission.
Hood: How fitting that Alice’s submission would be the Boston CRAB
Smith: Why’s that? Does she like Joe’s Crab Shack or something?
Hood: No, because, ya know, CRABS
Smith: I…I don’t…oh, hey…WAIT A MINUTE
~Annie continues to hold on. The ropes are pretty far from her reach. Scruff heads to the corner nearest the time keeper, anticipating a submission. This puts Alice’s body in between Scruff and Annie. Annie reaches out and her finger brushes against the OCW Title. She looks that way and squirms far enough to grab it. She flings it over her head, holding onto one strap. The other strap sort of lashes Alice across the shoulder. Alice is distracted and she reaches for her title. This releases the hold. Annie maintains her grip, rolling onto her back. Alice gets to her feet. Annie stands and the two pull back and forth on the belt~
Smith: Interesting
Hood: I know we’ve had some questionable OCW Champions…but I don’t think the title has ever been treated like this.
Smith: Well, Annie started it
Hood: No, Alice did when she cheated in her match against Grenier and PerZag by offering a blood sacrifice in the form of an owl to claim victory.
Smith: Oh please
~Annie spits in Alice’s face! Alice yanks her title away, but her vision is impaired. Annie kicks Alice in the gut and grabs her by the back of the head. Alice raises up and smacks the back of her head into Annie’s face!! Annie grabs her chin in pain. Alice kicks Annie in the gut, hookers her arms and drills her face first into the mat with The Apache!!! The crowd explodes as Alice goes for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings and Alice gets to her feet, wiping spit from her eye. Scruff raises her hand in victory while Alice bends over and grabs her OCW Title~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…the OCW Champion…ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: She did it!! Alice Knight keeps the win streak going while ending Annie’s!
Hood: I’m going to puke…I hope Annie spat some herpes in that eye of Alice
Smith: Oh so now Annie’s got the STD?
Hood: Every female in professional wrestling has an STD, Smith…didn’t you know that?
Smith: *gasps* how dare you say that about Alice, Who’Re, and…well just those two. Well, MJ Bell makes her RETURN next and I'm sure she's going to want to out do what we just saw from the champ. But first, let's head backstage!
~Backstage, Max Shade’s trainers are giving the big guy a shoulder massage and removing his athletic tape. Max looks slightly disappointed, however Dr. Orange is all smiles~
DR. ORANGE: Excellent work out there, Max. Total destruction, you’re an absolute beast. Loved it. You’ll be a champion in no- oh, hang on, hang on…
~There’s a buzzing coming from Dr. Orange’s pocket. He reaches in and pulls out his smartphone and answers it. Max buries his face into his hands and wipes the sweat off, then shakes his head and looks to the ceiling~
DR. ORANGE: Dr. Orange… Oh hey, good to hear from you Marcus! Calling no doubt to congratulate… Whoa, hey, from one businessman to another, I gotta tell you that tone isn’t what I’d call happy… What do you mean? He got the job done like a total professional!... That was a Corner Hug Smash, legit move, very damaging! Max has used it so many times in the indys!... Look, if you have some ACTUAL feedback to offer I’m all ears, but frankly I think you’re just being negative… Okay… Okay, look, let’s set up a lunch meeting and discuss this, alright? I see where you’re coming from, obviously I don’t agree with it, but… Yeah, Wednesday is fine, my treat even. We’ll have sushi, you like sushi?... Whatever, you pick the place, I’ll pick up the tab, no sweat. Now I gotta get back to my client, take care of yourself.
~Dr. Orange exhales loudly and shoves his phone back into his pocket. Max Shade looks up at his manager with concern. Dr. Orange waves his hand and shakes his head~
DR. ORANGE: Nothing to worry about, Max. Marcus thinks you were great, top notch. Just has some suggestions for things you can add to your arsenal. Showbiz fluff, mostly, not what I’d call necessary. I’ll chat with him and see how serious he is about it. Stay here and rest up.
~Dr. Orange hustles out of the room, leaving Max and his trainers in silence. After a few seconds, Max shakes his head and looks to the ground, seeming less than pleased about something. We head back to the announce table~
Smith: Hmm, Dr Orange continues to amaze
Hood: Boy, I'll say...he got our GM on the phone!
Smith: And our esteemed GM seemed less than pleased about...something
Hood: Probably the rogue DVDs being sold outside the arena. That'd be my guess
Smith: Or it could be the Corner Hug Smash...
Hood: Shit, you think someone has that trademarked...yea, that might be a problem
Smith: No, that's not what I'm saying...never mind...let's just move on and see what comes of a Dr Orange, Marcus Welsh meeting
Hood: Big things, Smith. Big things.
Smith: Next up we've got the return of MJ Bell and...
Hood: Ahem...since you did your little 'brought to you by' earlier...I'd like to announce a special sponsor for this match
Smith: Oh yea?
Hood: Yes, this next match is brought to you by the color orange. The color orange, so much better than platinum. The color orange, oh how we miss you. The color orange, easier to use in website graphics. The color orange...
Smith: WE GET IT...let's head to ringside
MJ Bell (0-0) vs. Tatum Coe (0-2)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall…
~”Everybody Wants You” by Billy Squier plays over the PA system as Treat Cassidy emerges from the back. He arrogantly walks down the aisle, dressed in his signature three piece suit. He shakes a couple of hands on his way to the ring.~
Smith: Treat Cassidy? Is he wrestling tonight and we didn’t know about it?
Hood: Cassidy?! Wrestling?! What is this fucking guy……
~Treat Cassidy walks over to the announce table, instead of heading into the ring and takes a seat along side Smith and Hood.~
Cassidy: Evening gentleman.
Smith: Hey Treat!
Hood: What do we owe this pleasure?
Cassidy: The sarcasm oozes out of you, Hood. Good to see you too buddy. I came down to get a front row seat for this match. The return of MJ Bell this is a big deal.
Smith: We are happy to have you, Treat!
Hood: Yeah so happy… Take it away, Belvedere!
~”Tear Away” by Drowning Pool begins to play. Tatum Coe emerges and looks determined despite his recent failures. Annie and Puffer are nowhere to be found…perhaps in the back dealing with Annie’s recent defeat. Coe reaches the ring and climbs through the ropes~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Miami Beach, Florida…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 215lbs….Tatum Coe!!!
~ The drum entrance of “ Soul Wars” by AWOLNATION begins to play through the P.A system as smoke floods the entrance ramp. Immediately the crowd begins to cheer as MJ emerges from the smoke walking with a confident smirk. Arms lift into the air before slicing through the smoke to fan it out. As MJ makes her way to the ring she interacts with the crowd giving out hand-fives(NOT hand jobs, pervs). She climbs up onto the apron before swinging between the ropes into ring. Her eyes scan the surroundings before moving to lean in the corner, both hands on her knees, body gently swaying as she waits for the match to begin~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Paradise, Michigan…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 127lbs…she is a former OCW Champion…MJ Bell!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Despite her actions one week ago this crowd is excited to see the former champion back inside an OCW ring.
Hood: Did you see all those HAND fives she was giving out?
Smith: High fives, Hood
Hood: No no, you’re thinking about High Jobs
Cassidy: MJ Bell looks absolutely amazing. That right there is true talent. This has to be the most highly regarded return to OCW that we have seen.
Hood: Umm… Scott Syren?
Smith: We all know Treat, she was your OCW champion.
Cassidy: I am sure Dean would love to have everything stricken from the record books from when I was in charge but, it is what it is… Let’s check out this match, shall we fellas?
Hood: Comes to our fuckin’ house and starts barking orders. We know what we’re doing, Treat…
~Coe rushes at MJ…MJ uses her feet to slide side to side, avoiding his bull rush. Every time Coe tries to grab MJ she avoids his grasp. Coe stops in frustration. He charges again…but MJ eludes him once more. MJ finds herself in a corner, watching Coe. A few “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” chants break out. MJ looks in the direction of the chant, becoming distracted. Coe charges in…MJ darts out of the way and Coe’s shoulder slams into the middle buckle!! He staggers back into the center of the ring. MJ runs toward the ropes behind Coe, she hops onto the middle buckle and springs off with an elbow into the back of Coe’s neck! Coe falls front first onto the mat and he rolls out of the ring. He curses and kicks his foot in frustration~
Smith: Some tough times for the former LightWeight Champion
Hood: No kidding…maybe he should start fighting some men. Maybe that’s the problem…cause, you know he’s such a gentleman that he has trouble raising his fist against a woman.
Smith: I don’t think that’s his problem. I think he’s seeking guidance from the wrong individuals.
Hood: Yea, sure, maybe…but how about that fucking white hair, huh? I just can’t get used to it
Cassidy: The white hair looks great.
Hood: Who asked you?
Smith: Hood, What are you reaching for under your seat?
Hood: NOTHING
Cassidy: Goodness, what are you reaching for?! Wait…. Tatum Coe was a Lightweight champion?
Smith: 17 years ago, yes sir!
Hood: Yeah Treat, why don’t you recruit him? Hell of a client, he was lightweight champion nearly 2 decades ago and he’s getting his ass handed to him by MJ Bell as we speak…
Cassidy: You amaze me, Hood. OCW Sarcasm champion!
~MJ remains in the ring, watching Coe. He approaches the announce table. Hood yells something we can’t hear at Coe. Coe sloughs him off. Hood mentions Annie’s name. Coe perks up and reaches out, Hood hands him something. Coe turns around and sees that MJ isn’t in the center of the ring. He looks around and spots her atop the corner…she leaps off with a crossbody!! She nails it perfectly, squashing Coe to the floor, causing him to drop whatever it was Hood handed him~
Smith: What was THAT?
Hood: A remedy sorely need, Smith
Smith: You know you’re supposed to be unbiased…objective…you can’t HAND opponents weapons
Hood: It’s not a weapon, man. Just trust me on this…it’s something that OCW NEEDS
Cassidy: C’mon Hood?! What the hell are you thinking?! I don’t know what your salary is but, hopefully it isn’t much.
Hood: FUCK YOU! Don’t come to my party and try running your mouth. Fuck with the bull, get the horns!
Smith: Hood, he has a point.
Hood: I get paid more then sandwich artists at Subway, so I sleep just fine at night.
Smith: And what bull are you talking about?
Cassidy: I own a couple Subway chains in Florida, if, you ever need a gig.
Hood: Fuck off.
~MJ gets to her feet with ease. She’s in great shape and condition. An Owl Head hoots at her and then proceeds to call her a ‘silver haired devil’. She has a few choice words for the overzealous fan. Coe gets to his knees. MJ’s back is to him. He stands up and he kicks MJ into the barricade where she runs into the fan. MJ turns around and Coe drops her with a jumping knee to the chin. MJ hits hard as the fans boo Coe’s actions~
Smith: You’ve got to love the spirit of these Owl heads!
Hood: Are you fucking kidding me right now? They are basically terrorists, man…freaking the shit out of anybody who isn’t Alice Knight
Smith: It’s up to the performers to not get distracted.
Hood: Wow, you really are something…what’s next, are you gonna mention how much you love Skillet?
Smith: They do produce some catchy tunes
Hood: That’s it, I can’t talk to you right now
Cassidy: I heard a skillet song once… worst produced music my ears have ever had the displeasure of hearing.
Hood: Smartest thing you’ve said all night, Treat!
~Coe grabs the bag Hood handed him moments earlier. He unties it and reaches inside…he pulls out….~
Smith: What is that??
Hood: A much needed CURE
Smith: Wait a minute that looks like…Orange Hair Dye!
Hood: You damn right
Cassidy: I was hoping there was a gun in that bag, for Coe to use on himself and end this embarrassment he’s causing himself.
Hood: Quality idea, I suppose there is always next week.
Smith: I can’t believe you guys.
Cassidy: Why does he care about her hair anyway? MJ Bell is gorgeous! Even with gray hair! Look at how she has controlled this entire match. That little lady out there was an OCW champion for a reason. The true OCW champion, she never lost the title. It should be taken from Alice and given to her right now.
Hood: I wouldn’t let all these owl heads hear you say that, you won’t leave this arena in one piece.
~Coe reads the label and then unscrews the cap. He reaches for MJ’s platinum hair. The crowd shrieks with suspense. MJ fights back with forearms and kicks. Coe staggers back against the apron. He holds the dye high into the air, to prevent it from spilling or getting on his body. MJ has yet to realize what’s going on as she’s caught up in the flow of battle. She backs up against the barricade and charges forward. She tries a senton, but Coe moves and the middle of MJ’s back slams against the edge of the apron!! She falls to the ground holding her back in pain. Coe looks at the dye and smiles~
Smith: Oh no…I mean I realize it’s only hair and it can be dyed back or cut off but this would just be disrespectful
Hood: Look she went and made her hair all white and shit and it’s just weird. We need ORANGE MJ BELL…so let’s stop procrastinating and let’s make this shit right.
Smith: But, Hood…have you been to the company website? It took them nearly a week to finally get the proper white haired photo…this could cause all sort of issues within the web department!
Hood: Psshaw…I don’t know why we don’t just use stick figures for that stuff anyway. I really think the Stick Man is a largely forgotten work of art. He’s probably in a great state of depression, if you think about it.
Smith: I don’t want to think about any of that…I just want MJ’s hair to be the color she desires!
Cassidy: I can’t believe you guys spend two hours every Monday with this nonsense.
Hood: Again, you invited yourself to our dance, you can kindly fuck off any time.
Smith: He doesn’t like guests.
Cassidy: Or white hair apparently. The only thing she needs is the strap back.
Hood: You mean you aren’t with half the roster having an infatuation with Alice Knight?
Cassidy: I don’t read into the hype. She’s a heck of a competitor but a far cry from Miss Bell.
Smith: I think he meant infatuation with her raw beauty.
Hood: Yeah obviously.
Cassidy: I am a married man, gentleman.
Hood: Oh jesus….
~Coe squeezes some orange goo into his left hand and he grabs MJ’s immaculate, white hair with his right. He goes in for the kill with the goo. MJ spots some orange dye dripping off his palm and she shoves him away. She jumps up and kicks him in the knee, taking out half his base. Coe drops to one knee and MJ delivers a Shining Wizard to the side of his head!! The crowd pops for her finisher. Coe falls to his side with orange hair dye running along his body as though it was blood and he’d been shot in the head. Scruff’s voice booms out from the ring “ONE!”~
Smith: Oh, so NOW he starts the count
Hood: He was probably trying to figure out whether or not that dye was edible
Smith: That was a horrible tactic, Hood. I’m so glad she was able to avert it.
Hood: Hey, it’s still out there…so there’s still hope
Cassidy: Tatum Coe can barely win a match, you really think he’s going to get the job done and dye her hair?
Hood: Faith, Treat, it’s called Faith.
Cassidy: I never realized how good of a referee Scruff was until I sat down here with you guys.
Smith: He will probably try to borrow a $20 spot from you on your way back.
~MJ tries pulling Coe to his feet but finds the dead weight too much. She slides into the ring and works on distracting Scruff. It’s a pretty easy task. Scruff begins chatting with MJ about, who knows what…probably what time dumpsters around the city are emptied. Coe reaches his feet and he staggers around. His foot slips in some orange dye. He looks down and picks up the bottle, rolling back into the ring~
Smith: Coe is back inside the ring…MJ Bell wanted to try and win this the right way
Hood: Thank goodness…means the ORANGE is still in play
Smith: Yes, he does still have that bottle
Hood: Out with this white hair…there’s only one wrestler on the roster who can get away with white hair….and that would be Caution.
Cassidy: Alright, MJ - let’s put this one away!
~Coe stumbles for MJ with the bottle of orange hair dye. He’s wobbly as the Shining Wizard continues to linger. MJ kicks him in the gut. The bottle flies through the air…it looks like it might hit MJ in the head. Scruff reaches up and grabs it. He then tosses a good portion back. MJ looks at him, curiously as Coe is doubled over. Scruff shrugs and takes another sip. MJ focuses back on Coe. She lifts one knee into his face, then another. Coe falls to his knees. MJ takes a step back and hits a second Shining Wizard!!! She covers Coe, Scruff chugs what remains of the dye and slides in to make the count~
1!
2!!
3!!!!
~The bell rings as the crowd gives MJ a nice ovation~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…MJ BELL!!!!!
Smith: Impressive return for MJ Bell…in spite of the shenanigans.
Hood: Son of a bitch…that WHITE hair, man. I just can’t take it. I’m going to have to step my orange game up a notch.
Smith: Please, just stay out of this.
Hood: And that bottle wasn’t fucking cheap, either. Scruff owes me.
Smith: What if he has to get his stomach pumped…then you might owe him?
Hood: Are you kidding me? If they pumped his stomach it’d be like cutting that shark open in Jaws…they’d find license plates, silverware…MISSING SOCKS….hey, maybe that’s where all the missing socks go…maybe BUMS eat them?
Smith: Moving along…
Cassidy: How about that, fellas! Excellent returning victory for Miss MJ Bell! Valiant effort on the hair dye, Hood.
Hood: Again, Fuck off!
~Cassidy stands up and starts clapping, giving MJ Bell a standing ovation. She looks over to him and smiles as he tosses her a thumbs up.~
Cassidy: Well gentleman, the pleasure was all mine!
Smith: Great watching the match with you, Treat.
Hood: Uh huh, real great… What the hell are you down here for anyway?
Cassidy: I’m recruiting Tatum Coe, obviously.
~Cassidy stands up and removes his head set as he leaves the announce table and heads back up the ramp, as he does, we see Scruff stop Cassidy midway it appears he asks him for spare change~
Smith: Interesting comments by Treat Cassidy...as always.
Hood: Yea, Alvarez is gonna be pissed...he's moving in on HER man
Smith: That was sarcasm, Hood
Hood: Was it, Smith? WAS IT?
Smith: Yes, it most definitely was. Now onto the regrettable portion of this program. Folks...it is with great sadness, remorse and a sense of diminished dignity that I turn all of your attentions to the next portion of the show...
Hood: Oh no, not another Alice Knight segment!
Smith: Prepare yourselves for Scott Syren's autograph signing...
~An empty table sits in a filthy room. It looks like a supply closet of some sort, except there are some uneven streamers and half-deflated balloons hanging limply from the ceiling. A nearby sign (Sharpie on cardboard) reads: “OCW AUDOGRAPHT SINEING – TODAY ONLY!” It is taped to the front of an unoccupied folding table~
~A small and annoyed-looking group of people is lined up before the table. Several are wearing OCW t-shirts, including some with Operation Zero and JFC logos. There is not a Brianna Casablancas t-shirt among the bunch, although a few of the people look pretty fucking stupid and tasteless which lends itself to the possibility of them being Casablancas fans~
~An old-ass man at the front of the line checks his watch and adjusts the bulky adult diaper beneath the khaki pants pulled up to his nipples~
OLD DICKHEAD: What in tarnation is taking so long? Where in tarnation is Scott Syren? I mean, seriously, fucking tarnation!
~The old dickhead huffs and checks his watch again. He holds his breath and shits his pants. The little kid behind him barfs in his mouth but swallows most of it back down like a champion~
~As if by magic, a short fellow with skin the color of polished bronze materializes from the shadows behind the table. He wears tattered robes of jaguar fur and holds a human skull in one hand. He waves a finger in the air and his mouth moves silently. Is the freakish specimen casting some sort of evil spell on these nice wrestling fans?!~
LilJungleMan: “Six… seven… eight. Eight? Still only eight...”
OLD DICKHEAD: I’ve been standing here waiting to get Scott Syren’s autograph for three and a half hours! Now get him out here, or by tarnation I’ll do you like I did those sons of bitches in ‘Nam!
PUKING KID: YEAH! WE WANT SYREN! WE WANT SYREN!
~The rest of the crowd joins the chant half-hardheartedly~
~LilJungleMan sighs and turns around. He yells into the darkness of the supply closet like an insane person~
LilJungleMan: We need to get started! Nobody else is showing up!
~A tall, muscular woman with luxurious strands of tangled, plastic hair crawls out from behind a large heap of full garbage bags. She gets to her feet and adjusts her tits, which are lumpy and uneven beneath a tight-fitting green tube top. Her lipstick is a somewhat loud purple-red, but it looks nice with her stubbly beard at least~
PUKING KID: Wha?! You mean Syren was here the whole time we were waiting?!
~The tall woman looks around, as if wondering where this “Syren” fellow is~
OLD DICKHEAD: What’s this supposed to be? One of them tram-jenner people? My lord! Don’t you people watch the news? Don’t you know about all these tram-jennered people raping little kids in bathrooms! Fucking tarnation!
Definitely not Syren: Fight me then, bitch.
OLD DICKHEAD: Huh?
~The muscular woman comes around to the other side of the table and punches the old man, caving in the side of his old-ass face in a shower of spit and blood. He falls to the ground and starts having a heart attack. The woman sets a foot on the man’s chest in triumph~
~Suddenly LilJungleMan tears off his fur robes. Underneath, he wears a speedo with vertical black and white stripes, like some sort of… referee? He slides down onto the ground and begins counting~
1… 2… 3!!!
LilJungleMan: Brianna Casablancas wins again! 2 and 0!!!
Brianna Casablancas: Who’s next?
~She flexes her huge biceps at the puking kid who was next in line. He swallows hard and starts to tremble~
PUKING KID: I… I… I just wanted your autograph, Mister Syren…
Brianna Casablancas: What the fuck did you just call me?
PUKING KID: I…
Brianna Casablancas: Speak up, cockboy! What, do you have a boy’s cock in your mouth or something? You look like, uh, a boy who likes cocks—boys’ cocks, that is!
LilJungleMan: Ha-haaaaaa! Zing! Classic Casablancas!
PUKING KID: Uh, I was just saying, I don’t want to fight you… I just came here to get your—to get Scott Syren’s autograph, Miss Casablancas.
~Brianna Casablancas rubs thoughtfully at her stubbly chin~
Brianna Casablancas: Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint an OCW fan. How about this, little pussy cockboy… I’m not Scott Syren. Obviously. But if you fight me, I’ll get you his autograph.
~Pukeboy looks at the dead old man on the ground. He shakes his head quickly~
PUKING KID: No way! I’d get wrecked big time if I fought you!
Brianna Casablancas: Probably true… it’s almost like you’d want to get pinned as quickly as possible… just get it over with, you know?
~The idiot cockboy finally gets it. With a big smile on his face, he lays down on the ground and tugs eagerly on Brianna Casablancas’ foot until she places it gently on his chest. LilJungleMan goes back down to count the pinfall~
1… 2… 3!!!
LilJungleMan: Brianna Casablancas is 3 and 0!!! HOORAY!
~The line of wrestling fans claps politely as Brianna Casablancas scribbles the name “Scott Syren” on a napkin, crumples it up, and tosses it at the boy~
PUKING KID: Oh wow! Thanks, Sc-sc-scary lady… scary how pretty you are, I mean.
~The kid scurries out of the room, and the next person in line eagerly gets down onto the floor. As the farce continues, we go back ringside~
Smith: What a joke! Why does Syren continue to disgrace this company?
Hood: I have to agree with you, Smith.
Smith: Oh, sure, you—wait, what? You agree with me?!
Hood: Yeah! It’s a total disgrace that Scott Syren hasn’t come back to OCW yet! At least we have Brianna Casablancas to fill the void. And guess what, Smith… now she’s only seven wins away from earning her rightful place in the Hall of Fame!
Smith: THAT IS NOT BRIANNA CASABLANCAS!
Hood: It looks like Brianna Casablancas to me. And it looks like she’s on a win streak!
Smith: THAT IS NOT A WIN STREAK! SHE, I MEAN HE, IS JUST… AARGH! AND THAT’S NOT EVEN A REAL REFEREE, IT’S JUST… what… oh… oh, no… oh…
Hood: Huh?
Smith: I’m getting word in my earpiece that a rather Eastern European member our fine corporate management team has, in fact, licensed LilJungleMan as an OCW referee… I… I don’t know what to say anymore, Hood.
Hood: That’s never stopped you from flapping those cuntlips you call a mouth before.
Smith: Let’s get back to wrestling. We can check back in with this nonsense later… if we must.
Hood: I wouldn't mind watching Syren collect another one hundred wins...can we just do that?
Smith: No...we have title matches, Hood. They begin now...the Ascension Title is on the line as the upstart Iggy Hardy takes on the heavily recruited Dare Clemmens...let's get down to the ring for this intriguing match up
Dare Clemmens (1-0) vs. Iggy Hardy (1-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Ascension Championship!!
~”Tog of the World” by Van Halen blasts off from the arena speakers. The crowd jumps to their feet and begins to chant ‘IGGY!’ as one of OCW’s most promising new comers steps through the curtain. He looks around with a polite and pleased demeanor. He walks confidently down the ramp…a fan screams out “I FUCKING LOVE YOU IGGY” as he injects cocaine directly into his vein via a syringe. Iggy flexes for him and then continues toward the ring. He hustles up the steps and enters through the ropes to an impressive ovation~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Hawk’s Bluff, North Carolina…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 230lbs…Iggy Hardy!!!
Smith: Great ovation for Iggy…he’s won over the OCW fan base
Hood: And, most likely, killed one of them off
Smith: He can’t control what these fans put in their bodies
~There's a short sputter and hiss as a needle touches down on a record. Shortly after that the sound of "Suburbia" by Kavinsky starts to blare out of the PA system~
~It's rough and scratchy, like a bad girl's muff, but it gets the fans up off their asses as Dare Clemmens steps out from the entrance. Oh yeah, he's wearing those sunglasses he makes look so good, a black leather jacket and a t-shirt that reads quite plainly, "Stolen."~
~He makes his way down towards the ring as the fans hoot and holler. Right behind him is none other than Tony Chu. You're damn right. It's Tony Chu. The two make it to the ring where Dare takes off his jacket and sunglasses and hands them off to Tony. Tony looks mildly offended for a moment before handing Dare's belongings off to a ring hand. Dare slides into the ring and pops up to his feet. This guy is serious business or completely ready to die a terrible death. The fans are excited to find out. Dare removes his t-shirt much to the pleasure of the female fans. He balls it up and tosses it into the crowd~
~That's right, he's build like he's etched out of stone and has just the right amount of chest hair. His smile, oh my, it's a devilish one. Those eyes? You wanna get you some. Male or female. You're questioning your sexuality. The music stops and Dare goes to his corner, ready to kill or get killed. Tony goes to his corner, quietly crossing his fingers, hoping he doesn't have to bury another client soon~
Belvedere: And his opponent…from St Louis, Missouri…standing 6’0 feet tall and weighing in at 190lbs….Dare Clemmens!!!
~The bell rings~
Smith: Big match, Hood…this title…in all its previous incarnations…has always led to great things for the winner. What do you think these men have to do to claim victory tonight?
Hood: Oh, well that’s easy
Smith: Ah, so you think Dare needs to stay away from Iggy’s power while Iggy needs to avoid the technical skills of Dare while also keeping Dare away from any high risk spots?
Hood: No way, that’s too much thinking. It’s simple. Dare doesn’t need to make Iggy get intense.
Smith: Oh, yea, I should have known
~Iggy walks up to Dare. Dare adopts a defensive stance. Iggy extends his hand. Dare looks at the hand and then down at Tony. Tony shrugs. Dare reaches out and reluctantly shakes Iggy’s hand. It’s a gentlemanly shake, in the name of competition. Upon completion Iggy backs into the center of the ring with Dare stepping out of his corner. The two men half circle before locking up~
Smith: Now there’s something you don’t see every day…sportsmanship
Hood: On a scale of comatose to intense…I’d say Iggy is at sedate.
Smith: I can’t argue that
~Iggy’s overpowering strength harnesses the early advantage. He backs Dare against the ropes and shoots him off. Dare flies across the ring, bouncing off the opposing ropes. Iggy ducks for a back body drop, Dare stops and kicks Iggy in the head. Iggy stands up straight and staggers back. Dare goes for a cross body, Iggy catches Dare and tosses him over his shoulder before dropping him with a Running Powerslam! Dare arches his back in pain~
Smith: Fast start to this match, Iggy’s power is obviously going to be a tough hurdle for Dare to clear.
Hood: Imagine the track team these two would make. Dare could do all the sprinty shit and Iggy could throw all the weird looking things around
Smith: That’s an interesting thought
Hood: Sadly, they’d never get off the ground...Iggy would take a piss in a patch of grass and that thing from Little Shop of Horrors would instantly sprout up.
Smith: Ah and the judges would notice and they’d be disqualified for performance enhancers
Hood: What? No way, the plant would eat Iggy and Dare would be fucked
~Iggy backs into a corner and hops on the middle buckle. Dare gets on all fours, working back to his feet. Iggy jumps off with an elbow aimed for the back of Dare’s neck. Dare rolls out of the way and Iggy lands on the mat, jamming his elbow into the canvas. Dare pops to his feet, he sprints into the ropes, bounces off and stretches out with a kick into the side of Iggy’s head!~
Smith: The quickness of Dare Clemmens paid dividends there
Hood: Paid dividends? Did it REALLY pay dividends?
Smith: Well, no, not directly…no cash from OCW was dispersed to Dare via that lone move
Hood: That’s what I thought.
~Iggy doesn’t stay down long. Dare is back to his feet, realizing he’s got to do a lot more punishment to keep Hardy down. Iggy gets to his feet near the ropes. Dare sprints at Iggy for a clothesline. Iggy ducks and lifts Dare over the top rope…Dare lands on his feet on the apron. Iggy turns around and Dare smacks him with a roundhouse kick to the face. Iggy backs up and Dare hops atop the ropes and leaps off with a West Coast Pop, taking Iggy to the mat. He doesn’t go for the pin, instead electing to sprint through the ropes and scale the nearest corner. Iggy is already back on his feet…Dare leaps off and he drills Iggy in the face with a Missile Dropkick!! Iggy hits hard and stays down a little longer this time~
Smith: Iggy Hardy is so resilient that Dare is going to have to throw just about everything he’s got to keep him down.
Hood: If by resilient you mean coked up, then yea, I agree
Smith: That’s not what I said
~Tony Chu notices Dare slowing down just a bit. He slaps the mat to get Dare’s attention. Dare hurries back up as Iggy gets to his knees. Dare sprints forward with a knee to the side of Iggy’s head! Iggy slams into the buckles. Dare flips Iggy onto his back…Dare takes several steps back and springs forward with a Cannonball into Hardy!! Hardy slumps with the back of his head barely hanging onto the bottom buckle. Dare stomps a mud hole into the face of Iggy…his head falls from the buckle and hits the mat as Dare continues to stomp with Iggy’s head bouncing around like a basketball. Dare finally stops as the fan base behind Clemmens (mostly female) yell out with some high pitched screams and cheers~
Smith: Dare’s stamina is going to be key here. It’s a good thing he was running all over town the other day helping people in need.
Hood: I was so hoping lightning would strike that tree while Dare was saving the cat. Two birds one stone…dead cat, dead Dare.
Smith: That’s awfully rude…especially with Tony Chu standing right over there. You didn’t say anything NEAR that rude around Dr Orange
Hood: Because I respect Dr Orange…this Tony Chu guy, I don’t know. He just doesn’t seem trustworthy. I think he has ulterior motives whereas you can easily tell Dr Orange is all about Max Shade.
Smith: WHATEVER
~Dare drags Iggy into the center of the ring. Iggy starts to sit up. Dare’s expression is that of surprise. He drops a knee into the forehead of Iggy. Iggy flat lines on the mat. Dare hustles into a corner and effortlessly hops to the top buckle. His back is to Iggy. He leaps off and nails Iggy with a moonsault!! Instead of covering, Dare locks in a variation of the Coquina Clutch!! Iggy chokes and coughs while kicking his legs and reaching for the ropes. Scruff asks Iggy if he wants to give it up~
Smith: Dare Clemmens has got to keep constant pressure on Iggy…the man has Michael Myers healing powers, evidently.
Hood: I’d wager bombs have overtaken it in recent years but for a long fucking time I’m pretty sure strangulation led the ‘how that person got murdered’ category.
Smith: I don’t know where you’d find such a stat….but cutting off a person’s air supply is highly effective. I just hope it doesn’t go too far.
Hood: Fucking relax, man. Dare Clemmens isn’t going to murder anybody…he doesn’t have that Incredible quality inside.
~Dare clamps down harder and harder, stifling the wind pipe in Iggy’s throat. Iggy’s face turns puce. He struggles for air. He starts to fade. His eyes grow heavy. Scruff reaches to pick up Iggy’s arm. But it’s really heavy so he uses both his hands to lift it up. He raises it. It drops to the mat. He raises it again…it falls but stops just short of the mat! Iggy’s eyes POP open. He suddenly sits up with Dare attached to his back. Iggy shoots to his feet, Dare is hanging on like a baby koala or some shit. Iggy then yells “DON’T MAKE ME GET INTENSE!” He runs head first for a corner before turning around and jumping back first into the buckles! This squashes Dare! Dare instantly releases and he falls to the mat, holding his midsection in pain. Iggy’s eyes are wide, his veins are protruding all throughout his body…he is Intense~
Smith: Wow
Hood: Well that went from zero to one million in a nanosecond.
Smith: Where would you rank Iggy on that scale at this point?
Hood: Oh, I’d say the mother fucker is in tents.
Smith: In tents?
Hood: INTENSE…geez, listen
~Iggy stomps and breathes and spits and does all kinds of other gross things associated with raging bulls. He turns and looks at Dare who is still a heap on the mat. Iggy picks Dare up via a handful of that thick, perfectly cut hair. He rears back and drills Dare in the face with a right hand!! Dare goes over the top rope and lands at the feet of Tony Chu. Chu takes a step back and holds his arms in the air in a display of innocence. Dare appears to be out. Iggy flexes for the crowd and yells with wide eyes~
Smith: He’s possessed!
Hood: Geezus, we need a fucking exorcism or…well, maybe just a few days in a detox facility
Smith: Iggy Hardy is unlike any wrestler we’ve ever had.
Hood: Who has a heart attack first? Iggy or Bifford?
Smith: I’m not going to play any macabre games like that, Hood. I hope they both live long, healthy lives.
~Iggy walks toward the ropes and looks down. He spots Dare. Iggy’s muscles ease. His eyes lower. He steps through the ropes and calmly hops to the ground. He bends over and pats Dare on the back to see if Dare is okay~
Smith: Uhhh…
Hood: Cocaine must be wearing off
Smith: I think this guy needs to be evaluated, psychologically
Hood: As opposed to what…sexually?
~Iggy helps Dare to his feet. Dare is a little groggy. Chu stands back not really understanding the method but unwilling to stop it as it aids his client. Iggy pats Dare on the chest and offers a thumb up. Dare nods and gives him a thumb up back. Dare then spins around with a heel kick to the side of Iggy’s head!! Iggy staggers into the apron. Dare grabs him from behind and tosses him up against the announce table with a release german suplex!! Iggy hits hard as the fans kind of boo Dare…well, aside from the women and bi-sexual men~
Smith: I know these Iggy fans aren’t happy but Dare is doing what any wrestler…who isn’t Iggy Hardy…would do in that situation.
Hood: And the bi sexual male fans are going wild!
Smith: Bi sexual, huh?
Hood: Hey, you’ve gotta give a man some room to breathe…no need in putting them in a corner, sexually.
Smith: I guess
~Dare hops onto the apron and leaps off with a dropkick into the chest/abdomen area of Iggy! The announce table shakes, possibly shifting slightly. Dare pulls Iggy up by his mullet and tosses him into the ring under the bottom rope. Iggy hops onto the apron and somersaults over the top rope with a leg across the throat of Iggy. He pops to his feet and coils in a corner. Iggy stumbles to his feet and Dare charges out with a huge GORE (Make a Bitch)!!! The Iggy fans squeal with delight. He covers Iggy as Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Close one…Dare Clemmens has Iggy on the verge of defeat
Hood: That is…until Iggy gets INTENSE
Smith: He’s already been intense once…there’s no way he can do it again
Hood: Oh just you watch
~Dare doesn’t get discouraged. He gets to his feet and he pulls Iggy up alongside. Dare whips Iggy into the ropes. Dare sprints the other way. They bounce off the opposing ropes simultaneously and Dare looks to meet Iggy in the center of the ring with another Make a Bitch. Iggy does a matador maneuver with Dare stumbling into the ropes. Dare turns around and Iggy charges in for a clothesline. Dare ducks and lifts Iggy over the top rope….Iggy’s legs lift up high in the air and his body, upside down, points directly at the ground, completely vertical. It turns over and he lands HARD. The fans gasp at the visual as Dare takes a slight moment to catch his breath~
Smith: He fell a long way
Hood: Fucker should have let go of the rope
Smith: There’s no quit in Iggy Hardy…so he’d never let go of that rope
Hood: Stupid ass saying probably coined by tug-o-war enthusiasts
Smith: I find it inspirational
Hood: No way, man. Let’s say you’re playing tug-o-war and the other team has their backs to a cliff. Just fucking let go and they’ll fall off…bingo, you win with minimal effort
Smith: Who would play tug-o-war near a cliff?
Hood: Iggy Hardy, probably
~Dare grabs onto the top rope and prepares for launch. He leaps over the top rope for a plancha. Iggy kips up out of nowhere!!! His eyes are bulging, his veins are popping…HE’S INTENSE!!! Iggy catches Dare in midair and tosses him over his head with a fall away slam!!! Dare hits hard but staggers to his feet out of instinct. Iggy runs him over with a clothesline! Iggy stomps the shit out of Dare as the fans chant for the wild man. He yells “DON’T MAKE ME GET INTENSE!!”~
Smith: Well, Iggy is intense again
Hood: He’s like a fucking wind up doll
Smith: Not a bad analogy
Hood: A wind up doll on cocaine!
Smith: Too far
~Iggy jumps onto the apron with ease. He then leaps up onto the top turnbuckle with ease. He’s like a muscular frog…but not green or bumpy (or would that be toads? whatever). Dare gets to his feet, staggering. Chu shows a bit of nerves but refrains from yelling. Iggy leaps off with a moon sault onto Dare!!! They crash to the ground hard. Iggy LEAPS to his feet and runs around the ring yelling and screaming. The fans are behind him, aside from the women, as he pumps his fist and throws his head around. Dare remains on his back, not moving~
Smith: I don’t know what this is…but it’s kind of contagious
Hood: So was the bubonic plague
~Iggy rounds a corner sharper than anticipated and stumbles over the steps. He looks down at them and his eyes somehow get wider. He screams “INTENSITY!!!” He picks the steps up, both parcels, and hurls them five rows deep into the crowd. They almost crush some Dare Clemmens fan girls. Luckily a few creepy old men were keeping a close eye on the young girls and were able to pull them out of harm’s way. Iggy leans back and yells at the top of his lungs “I’M INTENSE!!!!”~
Hood: Geezus titty fucking…
Smith: It’s a good thing we’re on STARZ
Hood: Yea, my cache as an announcer would plummet if I couldn’t say fuck
Smith: No, not that…I’m not sure we’re allowed to say ‘titty’ on regular television
Hood: Uh, really
Smith: It’s frowned upon
Hood: Fucking titty, really?
Smith: It’s one of the seven dirty words you can’t say on television. Pretty sure the F word is as well
Hood: I’ve got to look this shit up
~Hood pulls out his phone. Dare is on his feet as Iggy’s head snaps in Dare’s direction. Iggy’s eyes are pretty much the size of silver dollars at this point. Dare slides into the ring. Iggy slides in from the other side. Dare sprints at Iggy, Iggy throws a clothesline. Dare ducks and hits the ropes…Iggy picks him up for a press slam. He tosses Dare in the air…the guy flies about four feet…he comes down and Iggy drills him with a forearm uppercut!! Dare’s head and neck snap as he lands on his back. Iggy goes for the pin. He stares at Scruff with his wide, crazy eyes. Scruff makes the count, turning away from Iggy~
1!
2!
Shoulder up!!
Smith: Dare BARELY got out of that one…the match continues
Hood: Okay, here they are…Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker and…tits.
Smith: Yikes
Hood: I feel bad for tits…they are like a hitchhiker riding with the Manson Family, unaware…van gets pulled over and they all go to jail, the hitchhiker included…guilty by association, ya know?
Smith: Judging by what I know of the Manson Family, I’d say the hitchhiker, in that scenario, got off pretty easy
Hood: True…why is fuck on here twice? That’s fucking ridiculous
Smith: You should ask George Carlin
Hood: Give me a Ouija board and I just might
~Iggy gets to his feet with saliva hanging from his chin. He’s screaming and staring and doing all kinds of animalistic things. Dare coughs and rolls over. Some blood trickles down his chin. Iggy looks down and sees the blood. He softens. His eyes shrink, his veins downsize, he wipes the saliva from his chin and bends over. In a calm voice he asks, “You okay, friend?”~
Smith: Deep down Iggy is a good guy. One might even call him a fun guy, if you take the adverse effects of his intensity away.
Hood: I knew a fun guy once
Smith: Oh geez, here we go…did you now?
Hood: Yep, he had a rare fungus all over his skin but was fucking hilarious. So we called him Fun Guy
Smith: Can we get a muzzle out here?
~Dare slaps Iggy’s hand away. He rolls onto his ass and kicks Iggy in the gut. Iggy staggers back. Dare pulls himself to his feet using the ropes. He backs into a corner, hops on the middle rope and leaps off with a Lou Thesz Press!! He wails on Iggy with lefts and rights. Chu leans forward, placing his palms on the mat with angst~
Smith: I’m not sure this is what Dare wants to be doing to an unruffled Iggy Hardy
Hood: No shit…especially now that we know Iggy Hardy can get intense multiple times during matches
Smith: He’s a true anomaly…this Iggy Hardy
~Iggy’s body goes limp. Dare looks around, nervously. He’s a surfer surrounded by calm water after having seen a fin. Dare gets to his feet and looks at Chu. Chu nods aggressively at Iggy. Dare snaps out of whatever crisis he was experiencing and goes back to the task at hand~
Smith: Iggy is so unpredictable I think Dare half expected him to INTENSIFY…but, well, he’s gone limp.
Hood: Maybe he died
Smith: I certainly hope not, that would be a tragedy
Hood: Yes, his drug dealer would likely have to sell his house
~Dare pulls Iggy to his feet and knees him in the gut. Iggy is, apparently alive, as he manages to stand. Dare hooks him for a suplex and delivers it! He holds on, twists his hips and gets back to his feet…he drops Iggy with a second suplex!! The crowd grows with intensity. Iggy twists his hips again and gets to his feet, still holding onto Iggy. Iggy’s muscles are covered in sweat. He’s a thick, heavy man. Dare takes in a few deep breaths. He struggles to lift Iggy as the crowd hinges on their heels…he gets Iggy over and to the mat with the third suplex!!! Dare releases Iggy and lays on the mat, breathing heavily~
Smith: It was a struggle but Dare completed the Three Amigos which he calls Lie, Cheat and Steal.
Hood: He’s not stealing shit after that…I don’t’ care how fat the cop is. Fucking dude is spent.
Smith: Don’t doubt his stamina…he just needs a quick breather.
Hood: You think he has asthma? I bet he has asthma.
Smith: He doesn’t have asthma…or well, at least I don’t think he does.
Hood: Oh so you’re saying he MIGHT have Asthma? Be careful, Smith…this is how rumors get started.
Smith: What? I? Never mind, I’m keeping my mouth shut until the next action sequence is finished
~Dare is poised, he’s set to deliver Shoot to Thrill. Iggy stumbles to his feet. Dare lunges forward. Iggy suddenly GETS INTENSE!! Dare throws the kick. Iggy shoves Dare’s leg out of the way and he pushes Dare. Dare goes flying into the corner…it seems like the ring moved from impact…it likely didn’t, but the impact was fierce. Iggy charges in and squashes Dare. Dare’s head is on a string, bobbing up and down…his knees are wobbly. Iggy yells, snorts, screams…his eyes are filled with intensity and his veins are protruding~
Smith: This might be it for Dare…he was pretty winded when Iggy was asleep…now that Iggy’s gone and got intense again, well, this could be rough
Hood: He should start a class…like a self-help class or motivational course…how to succeed in life at GETTING INTENSE by Iggy Hardy
Smith: I don’t think that’d be very good for the community
Hood: Hey, that drug dealer of Iggy’s would then be able to afford two homes…a vacation home off in Colorado or some shit
~Iggy’s mullet is flaring. His teeth are bulging. He shakes the ropes, nearly tearing them in half. He goes back to Dare. He grabs Dare by the throat and tosses him halfway across the ring. Iggy yells “INTENSITY!!!” The fans decide to chant for him…perhaps out of fear that he might get more intense and spontaneously combust in the middle of the ring. Dare looks over at Iggy and sees a bull about to charge. Dare goes limp, like he’s been shot. Iggy softens. His head tilts…his eyes shrink and his veins go back to being not so veiny. He walks up to Dare and taps him on the cheek asking “Hey buddy, you still there?” A glance of Tony Chu, with a smile, catches our view~
Smith: Oh no, I hope Dare is okay!
Hood: That’s what saving cats will do to you, Smith…they will cause you to stroke out in the middle of a wrestling match.
Smith: As a cat owner, you take that back!
Hood: As a man who enthusiastically runs over stray cats…I will not.
~Iggy helps Dare to his feet and pats Dare on the chest. Dare nods and thanks Iggy. Dare staggers off like he’s still woozy. He then SMACKS Iggy with Shoot to Thrill!!! Iggy staggers…Dare hits him with it again! Iggy sways back and forth…Dare hits it a third time and Iggy falls onto his back. Dare goes for the cover before things get intense…Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~Iggy gets INTENSE right after three. He throws Dare three feet into the air, off of his chest. Chu waves Dare over…Dare hustles out of the ring and Belvedere hands him the Ascension Title. An INTENSE Iggy Hardy hurries to his feet and runs toward the ropes. Dare takes a moment to raise the title and receive his acknowledgment~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND NEW OCW ASCENSION CHAMPION…DARE CLEMMENS!!!!!
Smith: He did it!! He lulled Iggy into his normal demeanor and stole the victory!
Hood: He didn’t steal a fucking thing…why is it whenever a guy uses his brain to win a match you call it ‘stealing’?
Smith: I…I don’t have to answer your questions, Hood
~Chu grabs Dare’s belongings and recommends that they leave. Dare and Chu walk, briskly up the ramp and behind the curtain as the female fans in attendance scream and cheer for Dare. Other fans are chiming in as well with Dare having won over a good portion due to his never quit attitude. Iggy continues his intensity. He jumps over the ropes and lands on his feet, on the outside. He starts staring at fans and yelling at them~
Smith: This…this could get ugly
Hood: He’s like a zoo animal out of his cage!
~OCW security rushes down and they unveil a big gun. They shoot out a tranquilizer dart…it hits Iggy right in his abs, inches above a massive boner that he seems to be sporting for, well, some reason. Iggy staggers and then falls, unconscious. Security grabs him and carries him out before he GETS INTENSE again. We focus back on Hood and Smith~
Smith: Well, that was something
Hood: No shit…bummer that Iggy didn’t win though and, yes, I said bummer so he’d understand my lingo and realize that I’m feeling for him.
Smith: Iggy would have been a great Ascension champion but…the better man won. Dare Clemmens is the total package…he’s athletic, focused, and intelligent. Iggy seems, well, a little scatter brained…I think he’s got some mental issues he needs to work on.
Hood: That or he just needs to stay intense throughout the entire match. He’d never lose if that were the case.
Smith: Hard to argue that…well folks, that’s one title decided, we’ve got two more on the line on this historic Monday night…but first, let’s head backstage!
~The Dravers boys are walking through the corridor of the OCW arena. They have the camera follow them. The boys seem to be carrying a box of some kind but as of right now, we cannot see what it is~
Nathan: Jon…bro, this is gonna be great…
Jonathan: I know…
~The boys notice CJ O’Donnell in the corridor~
Nathan: Hey…CJ! Glad we ran into you. We just wanted to welcome you to OCW properly.
Jonathan: Yeah. I mean, I know we have our match tonight but…before that…we just wanted to give you a…present… before hand.
CJ O’Donnell: Seriously, I hope this isn’t a year’s supply of hair dye or anything to do with Skillet….
Nathan: Nah, look… we really mean it. Here.
~Nathan hands over the box while CJ is perplexed~
Jonathan: Well, look…we have to take off. See y’out there.
~Jonathan pats CJ on the back and the twins walk away just as the box explodes covering CJ O'Donnell in green gunge. The twins laugh hard~
Nathan: Oh look… You really should watch what you’re doing, man. I swear I had no idea. Jon…how could you?
Jonathan: Hahahahahaha… classic. Well looks like you're already Seeing Double already. Mind that doesn't get in your eyes too much.
~The camera cuts away to the announce table~
Smith: Hehe, that was a neat prank
Hood: Seriously? Are they in high school? At least the fuckers in Carrie had the balls to use blood…not green goo
Smith: Hey, it’s harmless quid pro quo…The Dravers are good kids
Hood: Yea, well they’re going to get theirs in that main event. Fucking pussies just took off after handing that box of greens hit to CJ…
Smith: It was a prank, relax
Hood: You know what I’ve been telling you about good deeds, man. CJ gives Alice a box…he gets a box in return and BAM…good deeds are almost as bad as having kids…terrible investment
Smith: Alternative views from the man to my right…anyway folks, it’s SAVAGE championship time as…
~'Eye of the Tiger' by Survivor blasts out over the PA system as the crowd instantly gives cheers towards the man known as PerZag. They obviously liked his performance from a week before, even if he didn't capture the victory. He walks down the ramp way, and towards the ring, with a microphone in his hand, obviously looking at saying something to the crowd in Key West, and everyone watching from home. This time, though, instead of the usual PerZag, he looks calm. He looks focused. He's not acknowledging the fans, doesn't look angry, doesn't look happy, doesn't look sad. Which is different for PerZag. He usually isn't as focused as he is right now~
~He makes his way to the steel steps, and walks up them one-by-one, staring towards the center of the ring. He walks along the apron, and steps through the middle rope, before making his way to the center of the ring, standing still, staring at the ground. 'Eye of the Tiger' stops playing on the PA system, and PerZag raises his head, and stares out towards the crowd~
PerZag: I have had a lot of time to think, you know. And I have had many things bounce around in my head, trying to figure out what I have to do next. What is, next to be done. I didn't do exactly what I was hoping to do. I could not capture that OCW Championship. The one title that has eluded me, for so long, and keeps doing so. I have been in OCW for such a long time, dating back till 2014, and I have returned for each run since then. And here we are, in 2017, going at it again. But, the difference is, is the new management we have out the back.
~PerZag motions towards the backstage area~
PerZag: I could have started off 2017, with a bang. Could of claimed that championship, but I didn't. So, the past week has had me thinking. In my time in OCW, I have had multiple chances at the championship. First MJ Bell won, then Mack O'Connor won, and now Alice Knight. And it just makes me think of what to do now. What do I do? So, I had a long, long, long, long, think about it. What is the next step for me? What does PerZag do next?
~PerZag stops speaking, and lowers his head to the ground, he raises it back up, staring at the crowd, tears forming in his eyes~
PerZag: I am officially going to retire from professional wrestling.
~The crowd go in shock. Smith and Hood go in shock at the announcing table~
Smith: Wait. What? PerZag is going to retire.
Hood: You have got to be kidding me.
PerZag: This new management finally has gotten their wish. They wanted me out. So, I am officially going to retire.
~PerZag pauses staring out at the crowd~
PerZag: NEVER!
~The crowd instantly start cheering, finally realising that PerZag is fucking with them~
PerZag: I am NEVER going to retire. Not now, not until I am dead. I am going to fight, and fight, whenever the fuck I want to. And on top of that, I deserve another shot at that OCW Championship. I was not the one that lost that fucking match. Bob fucking Grenier was. The so-called greatest wrestler that ever lived, was the one that lost that match. I NEVER did.
~PerZag is finally showing some emotion. He is obviously pissed off about everything that has been going on~
PerZag: I DESERVE another shot at that championship before that bitch MJ Bell gets one. Hell, before she left OCW all those years ago, who was she going to fight for the championship at that months PPV. At Last Man Standing. It was ME. I was the one who was going to fight her for that fucking championship. And I knew, deep fucking down, that I would have beaten her too. But, that was three fucking years ago, and here we are. MJ Bell is back, and it looks as though she is getting an instant title match.
~PerZag stops, starting to chuckle uncontrollably~
PerZag: And what happened to me. Hell, I did end up fighting for that OCW title, but it was not without obstacles. It was not without OCW Management trying to FUCK me over. Trying to SCREW me out of that match. I deserve another shot, and Marcus Welsh, EE, you know it, deep down within your soul. You know, after the performance I had last week, that I deserve another show before that BITCH gets one.
~PerZag shakes his head slowly~
PerZag: But, I know your group of fuckboys won't allow it. The Incredible One, CJ O'Donnell, Matt Meyhu, they will be sticking their noses so far up your asses that they will be telling you not to give me another shot. Another chance. All because of their brown fucking noses. Well, I don't fucking care what they think. What you think. I know, and this crowd in Key West knows that I deserve another fucking shot. Hell, Alice Knight knows I do. And if she was truly the proper champ, she would give me a shot. But, management probably won't let her anyhow.
~PerZag stops, staring up the ramp, towards the backstage area~
PerZag: So many people know that I deserve another shot. A one-on-one fucking match with Alice Knight. Or MJ Bell, I really don't fucking care. I deserve another championship shot soon. I don't care what FUCKING obstacles you send my way this time, but I am gunning for that belt. I am going to get that fucking belt, and I am going to hold it over MY fucking head, as champion. Which is what I FUCKING deserve. Alice, MJ, I am not out of the picture just yet. Not like Grenier is. He is way out of the goddamned picture. I am still here. And I WILL be OCW Champion. Whether I have to go through one of you, or both of you.
~PerZag turns around, and stares out towards the crowd~
PerZag: I will not BOW DOWN. I will not kiss the feet and asses of management. I will not bow down to The Aptitude. To The Incredible One. To CJ O'Donnell. To Matt Meyhu. I will not bow down to any of them. I will not stop fighting until I get that FUCKING title that I FUCKING deserve. Alice, Marcus, EE, give me this fucking shot. You know I deserve it.
PerZag drops the microphone onto the mat as 'Eye of the Tiger' by Survivor blasts over the PA system, and he makes his way out of the ring, and walks straight towards the backstage area~
Smith: PerZag is angry…motivated…he wants another shot
Hood: And I hope he gets it…like in five minutes
Smith: That is NOT happening
Hood: Shattered dreams
Smith: Whatever…well we’ve got to get things set up out here for the Savage Championship so let’s head backstage real quick!
~The camera fades backstage and you see "The Distinguished" CJ O'Donnell in the bathroom washing off that green stuff from the prank that Jonathan and Nathan aka The Dravers Boys just played on him~
CJ O'Donnell: I bet you thought that was funny - didn't you? After our match tonight I promise you that you better go into a comedy routine. I am going to fucking hurt you. I am going to make you feel pain like you have never felt before. You thinking losing those OCW Tag Team Titles is going to sting then you are in for a real treat tonight.
~As CJ phone dings he looks down at it and sees that it is a text message from someone and all he does is shake his head~
CJ O'Donnell: Oh and another thing Skillet fucking sucks. And can you please tell Jen Ledger to stop texting me provocative pics of herself. She is a married woman who is supposedly Christian. Some role model she is. Jonathan and Nathan try to control yourself I know you are both virgins and might ejaculate once you see this but ...
~The camera zooms in on The Distinguished phone to reveal ..~
~The crowd goes "ooohhhhhhh!!!!" like somebody just got dissed. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: That isn't funny
Hood: I knew that chick with Skillet was DTF but, man, she really threw herself out there to CJ with that pic, huh?
Smith: That isn't HER...it's obviously photo shopped, terribly
Hood: No way man, that photo is fucking legit. You can tell by the bee themed blanket behind her. She ALWAYS sleeps with that thing
Smith: Yea, whatever...CJ and the Dravers are going to war with these mind games...how will it impact the main event?
Hood: I don't know but...you were talking about breaking news earlier...how about you tweet out that this chick has some kind of weird tattoo on the bottom, right portion of her abdomen?
Smith: FAKE NEWS, Hood. It's Savage championship time, everybody...let's head down to ringside!
’The Emerald’ Drew Stevenson (2-0) vs. Mack O’Connor (1-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest will be contested under hardcore rules…it is scheduled for one fall and it is for the SAVAGE CHAMPIONSHIP!!
~ "Vagabond” by the Greenskeepers hits and the former OCW Champion Mack O’Connor walks out on the stage and directly to the ring, dressed in jeans and a black tank top. He occasionally raises an arm to acknowledge and get a rise out of the fans. He slides into the ring and starts pacing in his corner~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 230lbs…Mack O’Connor!!!
~ 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~
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, the Savage Championship is a belt that dates back to 2000 when it was first captured by Tah Murdah.
Hood: Tah fucking Murdah…that dude was badass. You know what happened to him?
Smith: Nope
Hood: I heard his crew sucked him back into ‘the life’
Smith: That’s a shame…life on the streets
Hood: Oh no, nothing like that…they were a barbershop quartet…with a slight edge. They were called Tah Dah! It’s the Murdahs!
Smith: Not your finest
~Mack marches for Drew. Drew puts his hands up and asks for a mic. Belvedere, standing on the apron, about to descend the steps, hands his mic over~
Drew Stevenson: Excuse me, everybody, if you’ll allow me one second of your time. As you already know, I’m here representing the best interest for STARZ networking. Now, I realize that we’ve seen some violence this evening and there’s nothing that I can do about that. However, I’d like to use this Savage Championship match as an opportunity to show each and every one of you that professional wrestling is better when gratuitous violence is eliminated.
~The crowd boos. A few ‘pussy’ chants break out. Mack leans in the corner and raises an eyebrow. Drew acts as though he can’t hear a thing, ignoring the derogatory reaction. He looks toward Mack~
Drew Stevenson: Mr. O’Connor, you seem to be a man who understands the value of substance. I noticed the disdain you had for the cheap, dirty Budweiser that a certain colleague of yours forced you to drink. So, how about you help me raise the bar? How about we bring some couth, some etiquette into OCW and elevate the Savage title to a prestige never before seen?
~The fans continue to boo. Mack looks out at the crowd and points to them. Drew ignores the vitriol and continues~
Drew Stevenson: It’s ignorance, Mack. They’ve never seen a pure, above the board wrestling match under these types of conditions. And, because they lack imagination and foresight, it’s impossible for them to understand what I’m talking about. So, we need to show them.
~Mack steps out of the corner and walks toward Drew. Drew smiles and points at Mack approvingly. Mack asks for the mic. Drew hands it over and folds his arms, ready to hear what Mack has to say. O’Connor turns the mic upside down, raises it up and he drives the audio side into the forehead of Drew!! Drew staggers back, the crowd erupts with cheers. Mack goes after Drew but Stevenson is able to slide under the ropes, ushering to safety. He checks his head and finds that there is no blood, he mouths “Thank goodness, I’d hate for them to blur my face.” And stares up into the ring as Mack tosses the mic aside and dares Drew to re-enter~
Smith: I don’t think Mack agrees to the proposition
Hood: And that’s why Mack is fighting in underground clubs and hanging out at tiny dive bars with annoying servers
Smith: That probably has more to do with his apparent drinking problem
Hood: I will say one positive thing about Mack
Smith: And that would be?
Hood: He don’t fuckin’ vape
~Drew places his foot on the first step. He waves his hands as if to usher Mack away so he can safely re-enter. Mack rolls his eyes and steps back into the center of the ring. Drew slowly steps through the ropes as the crowd boos. A ‘Savage’ chant breaks out. Drew pays it no attention. He begins to circle Mack. O’Connor mimics his action. They lock up with both attempting to gain a position of leverage. Drew is able to shove Mack into a corner. Scruff asks for a break. Drew slowly breaks as Mack half expects a cheap shot. It never comes. Drew steps back and extends his arms with Mack looking somewhat surprised~
Smith: Drew showing some nice sportsmanship early on
Hood: I don’t get these fans, chanting for Lance Savage during this match
Smith: They were chanting for the Savage Title, Hood. They want to see a more, well, brutal type contest.
Hood: Oh, well I think they all need to chill out and learn a thing or two from the cultured Drew Stevenson.
~Mack meets Drew in the center of the ring and they lock up once more. This time Mack backs Drew into a corner. Scruff forces a break. Mack slowly releases with a very confident looking Drew waiting for Mack to be completely off him. Mack, unlike Drew, sucker punches Stevenson in the gut!! Stevenson doubles over. Mack grabs him by the hair, turns him around and repeatedly slams Drew’s face into the top turnbuckle! Drew is able to break free and he slides under the ropes, back to the floor. He walks around the ring, trying to locate some composure. The fans boo heavily~
Smith: Oh come on, mix it up already! This behavior is obnoxious
Hood: He’s trying to fix what’s broken, Smith. It’s going to be hard, these fans and that cretin Mack O’Connor are used to basically wrestling with razor blades in there…but Drew will do it.
Smith: I have to believe Drew could have negotiated some other title shot. Like, you know, the Paradigm Title…but he stuck with the Savage Championship. It just seems to me he’s going out of his way to annoy the fans.
Hood: I bet Drew vapes.
Smith: Is that a negative comment about Drew?
Hood: Not really, I mean we had a talk and he’s not The Vapist. So he can vape all he wants as far as I’m concerned.
~O’Connor yells ‘fuck this’ and he flies through the ropes, landing on his feet, right behind Stevenson. Drew takes off, hustling around the ring, O’Connor giving chase. Drew slides into the ring and runs for the ropes. O’Connor slides in as well. Drew bounces off the ropes and delivers a baseball slide dropkick into the head of O’Connor as he’s on his knees, trying to get to his feet. Mack grabs his head and falls over. The fans continue to boo~
Smith: I’ve got to hand it to The Emerald…that was a smart move
Hood: You see? He’s already proving his point…you win matches with your brains, not with your fists…and certainly not with chairs and whatever the hell else.
Smith: Hood, you’re the most blood thirsty announcer I’ve ever met…what’s with this attitude shift?
Hood: The Emerald has opened my eyes and they are green, Smith. They are GREEN!
Smith: No, your eyes have always been and will continue to be brown.
Hood: Not unless I buy colored contacts you asshole
~Drew gets to his feet and he kicks Mack in the head. He grabs Mack by his left arm and drags him into the center of the ring. Drew then proceeds to lock in an armbar on Mack, dead center of the mat. Mack waves his right arm around, looking for reprieve. Scruff asks Mack if he wants to give it up, but Mack refuses. Drew continues to lean back and pull, attempting to separate the shoulder of Mack O’Connor~
Smith: And for those of you wondering, yes, you can win via submission in a hardcore rules match. The only alteration in a match like this is that you cannot be disqualified for using foreign objects.
Hood: Well then why the whole rigmarole earlier on with the corner breaks after locking up?
Smith: I would assume that had to do with Stevenson’s approach…but, if you notice, Mack didn’t exactly follow the rule.
Hood: True…trying to set an example early on but Mack kinda screwed him on it.
Smith: Indeed…however now Mack is the one in trouble
~Drew continues leaning back, Mack’s shoulder begins to buldge as though it’s about to pop. Mack leans across his body, carefully trying not to tear or separate anything. He then delivers a quick punch into the groin of Drew with his free hand! Drew releases the hold immediately and curls up, wincing in pain. Mack rolls over and clutches his left arm. The crowd lets out a strong ovation~
Smith: Not the most savory move in the world but you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do I suppose
Hood: It’s official, Smith. The dick punch is OVER in OCW
Smith: Ugh, I’ve suddenly got this pain in my lower gut
Hood: Me too…I hate seeing guys get punched in the dick
~Mack works to his feet using his right arm and the ropes. Drew is on his knees wincing and leaning toward the mat, praying that the intense pain will go away as it usually does…after a few moments. Mack heads toward Drew, leading with the right side of his body. He stomps into Drew’s back, who is still on his knees. Mack then grabs Drew by the hair, using his right arm. He pulls Drew to his feet and shoves him into a corner. Mack begins to punch Drew in the face with his right fist. Drew’s legs begin to grow weary as he slumps in the corner. Mack leans back, ready to deliver a haymaker. Drew reaches out and yanks down on Mack’s left arm! Mack crumbles to his knees, holding his left arm in pain as Drew remains on his feet, rubbing his face~
Smith: Just when the former OCW Champion looked to be forming a head of steam…Drew strikes.
Hood: I’m telling ya, Smith. This Drew Stevenson is the type of wrestler OCW has needed. He’s a champion we can be proud of. Unlike that vapist in there
Smith: Mack O’Connor is not the Vapist…whatever that even means. He said he doesn’t vape earlier in the week, you even alluded to that earlier in this match.
Hood: The vapist is a terrible man that grabs your vape device, when you’re not looking, and he mouth rapes it. He seriously needs to be caught.
Smith: That’s ridiculous…this inane discussion is over
~Drew refocuses and he kicks Mack in the left shoulder! Mack falls to the mat, clutching his left shoulder in pain. Drew smiles pointing at the injured O’Connor. He bends over and slaps Mack across the face. He slaps him again. Mack springs forward and spins Drew onto his back with a Small Package!! Scruff makes the count~
1!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Not very close but surprising never the less
Hood: Fucking bar room brawlers…they never quit
Smith: Tough as nails
Hood: Although they usually have a dozen shots of whiskey running through their veins so maybe Mack will quit…unless he was boozing it up backstage in that case…maybe he won’t quit…
~Drew kicks out and rushes to his feet. Mack gets to his. Drew takes him down with a deep arm drag, on the left arm! Mack hits hard and clutches his arm in pain. He stumbles to his feet, trying to shield his left side. Drew elbows Mack under the chin. Mack staggers into a corner. Drew whips him across the ring. Mack hits…and Drew follows up…Drew leaps in the air for a big splash but Mack drops to the mat!! Drew slams into the top turnbuckle and staggers backward. Mack gets to his feet and twists around before punching Drew in the head with a Tornado Punch!! Drew drops to the mat and grabs his face in pain. He slowly rolls out of the ring as Mack continues to hold onto his left shoulder~
Smith: What a punch!! O’Connor might have fractured Drew’s jaw!
Hood: Is there blood? There better not be blood…stop the match if you see blood, Scruff!
Smith: I’m pretty sure this match will continue with or without blood
Hood: Oh, so you’re telling STARZ to fuck off, then
Smith: Uh, no, that’s not what I meant…I’m just saying that it’s a hardcore rules match and well…let’s just wait and see, okay?
~Drew paces around the ring, working his jaw back and forth. Mack rotates his left shoulder. Furtively, he shows improvement. Drew doesn’t notice. Mack begins to wince, obviously acting like he’s in pain. Drew catches this and lets his guard down. Drew stops near the apron to rotate his neck back and forth. Mack sprints ahead and slides under the bottom rope, kicking Drew in the head!! Drew stumbles and falls, face first into the barricade! The crowd goes wild as Mack raises his right hand…his left shoulder, while improved, is still compromised~
Smith: He was playing possum…or well sorta
Hood: Yea like the possum that got clipped by the car. Yea, sure his backside is all smashed to shit and he’ll probably die in a few hours but he’s still gonna play dead. They are very dedicated to their gimmick, those fucking possums.
Smith: I don’t think he’s THAT badly injured. But a crafty move against a man who values that sort of behavior is an interesting turn of events
Hood: You’re so fucking lame…you take a great conversation about dying possums and turn it into tactics and strategy talk…blah!
~Mack grabs a hand full of that thick hair atop Drew’s head. He slings him into the steps! Drew hits hard. The steps separate with the top end lying diagonally against the floor and bottom. Mack places Drew’s head and shoulders on top of the bottom portion and adjust the top to where they are directly hanging, diagonally, over Drew. He then superkicks the top half and it slams down on Drew!! Drew’s legs kick as he squirms out from in between. There is a bright, red streak across his back and arm where the edge of the steps dug in~
Smith: That was unique…unorthodox…but effective
Hood: Man, when you spend your life brawling in bars you just learn how to fuck shit up. Seriously, haven’t you ever…oh wait, never mind, you’re that pussy who leaves bars before sun down.
Smith: Proud of it, too!
Hood: Hmm...maybe YOU’RE the vapist…you certainly look the part
~Mack uses his right hand to clear the top of the steps out of the way. He stomps over the bottom portion and soccer kicks Drew right into the ribs. Drew falls over, holding his ribs. Mack goes to his knees and starts to punch away at the body of Drew with his right fist…he’s not being picky, just hitting any part of Drew his fist finds~
Smith: An old school one handed beat down
Hood: You’d think Mack would have grabbed a chair by this point…but…he hasn’t and you wanna know why?
Smith: Why?
Hood: Because Drew has SHOWN him the way!
Smith: That’s ridiculous
~Mack stops punching Drew and gets to his feet pulling Drew up as well. He backs Drew against the post and throws a right hand. Drew darts out of the way. Mack pulls up inches before his knuckles meet steel. He breathes a sigh of relief. While he does, Drew reaches up, grabs Mack’s left arm and pulls it toward the post!! It slams into the post and Mack yells, falling to the ground, clutching his left arm~
Smith: That left arm is hindering Mack from being able to sustain any kind of momentum
Hood: Maybe he should just cut it off
Smith: Uhh what?
Hood: Ya know – slice that shit off if it’s such a hindrance. Left arms are fucking useless anyway…unless you’re left handed. Then you’re just some fuckin weirdo who should be foreced to use alternative bathrooms
~Drew reaches his feet and works to shake off the slight delirium stemming from Mack’s brutish onslaught. A fan reaches over the barricade and offers Drew his chair. Drew grabs the chair and tosses it aside. He then motions for security to have the fan removed. Drew grabs Mack by his weak left arm. Mack yells out in pain and tries to fight Drew off but Drew head butts him. He rolls Mack in under the bottom rope and hops onto the apron. He climbs the nearest corner as Mack staggers to his feet. Drew leaps off with a missile drop kick!! It connects and Mack falls flat on his back in the center of the ring. Drew pops to his feet to a massive amount of boos~
Smith: Drew Stevenson in total control and the clear favorite to win
Hood: Smart man going for the head butt there
Smith: Really? Don’t you think that might jeopardize his clear advantage…the intellect?
Hood: Nah, see that fucking luscious head of hair he’s got? See it? Alright. Now look at that bald freak lying on the mat…who would YOU rather be in a head butting contest?
Smith: Point taken
~Drew heads for the corner. He ascends to the top, looking for another high risk maneuver. Mack is on his back, reaching at his left shoulder. Drew gets to the top and he takes his time. The fans boo. It feels as though he’s taking too long. He leaps off and nails a flying elbow into the throat of O’Connor(The Emperor’s Fall)!!! Drew leans on top of O’Connor as though he’s lying on the beach. Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
Shoulder up!!
Smith: Sloppy cover by a man who should know better
Hood: Oh, he does, he’s just proving his point…look how easy this is WITHOUT weapons
Smith: It may look easy now, but it won’t be over until that title is around his waist
Hood: Inevitability, Smith
~Drew continues laying on top of O’Connor. Mack finally shrugs him off with his right shoulder. Drew gets up and smirks. He kicks at O’Connor like he’s some kind of weird bug or something. Mack rolls to the ropes. Drew tries to shove O’Connor out of the ring using his boot, but Mack holds the ropes tightly. Drew grabs Mack by the legs and pulls back…Mack’s body attains some decent hang time he lets go of the ropes and the momentum sends him landing hard on his back. Drew jumps forward and drives another elbow into the head, neck area. Mack stays down as Drew gets to his feet and extends his arms. He’s yelling “See? Isn’t this better?” the crowd yells back “FUCK NO!” Drew just sort of waves them off. He points at Mack and gives a thumb down~
Smith: That’s not good
Hood: If this were ancient Rome Mack’s head would be coming off…or his throat would be getting split…I’m not sure they were really that specific. They’d also sometimes let animals come in and…
Smith: We get it
~Drew lifts Mack to his feet. He takes his thumb and presses it into the joint of Mack’s left shoulder. Mack’s knees buckle, he nearly falls to the mat. Drew laughs and whips Mack across the ring. Mack bounces off the ropes. Drew gets into position…he lifts Mack up for the Heir to the Throne (Spinebuster). Mack goes up but bites onto the head of Drew. Drew’s grip loosens. Mack comes down, grabs Drew’s head and drops him with Hollow Point(Stunner to the temple)!!! Drew flops onto his back, eyes shut. Mack backs up against the ropes, clutching his injured left shoulder~
Smith: Mack may be injured but he’s still got that right arm and used it to his advantage
Hood: Do you think Mack’s left arm is numb?
Smith: I don’t know, maybe
Hood: I wonder if he’s going to give himself a stranger after the match
Smith: Are you talking about slave trade, again?
Hood: Not this time…look it up when you get a chance, might spice up that lonely love life of yours
~Mack rolls out of the ring. He goes looking for a chair. He spots an empty chair. He tries to grab it, but a young girl throws her feet in the seat. Mack shrugs and asks for the chair. She rubs her fingers together, indicating cash. Mack replies, “Seriously?” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a five. The girl unearths two boxes of Thin Mints. Mack’s head snaps back. She demands he buy those from her as well. Mack curses under his breath and pulls a twenty out and hands it to the girl. She takes it and removes her feet from the chair. Mack takes the chair and the cookies. He places the cookies on the ground and turns around to get into the ring. Before he can, Drew performs a suicide dive through the ropes, into Mack!! Mack drops the chair as the fans boo. Drew stands up and thanks the girl. The girl is too busy looking at her money to notice~
Smith: Strange
Hood: Fucking women, they don’t waste any fucking time in bleeding men dry, do they?
Smith: Hey, there’s no call for that type of sexism!
Hood: Good thing Mack wrestles in jeans. If he only wore trunks he might have been slapped with one of those ‘can’t come within fifty feet of a schoolyard’ crimes.
Smith: Just, please, stop talking…we’ve got a great match going on and it’s going to be ruined by all this foolishness
~Drew turns toward O’Connor. Mack grabs the chair with his right hand and tries to defend himself with it. Drew rips hit away and tosses it, casually, over his shoulder. It flips over the top rope and lands in the ring. Drew stomps on Mack’s left shoulder. Mack screams in pain. Drew stomps on it yet again. Drew then goes to his knees and grabs it. He pulls and bends and torques. Mack yells and reaches out with his right hand. He nearly taps but refrains. He then takes the bottom of his right hand and places it in his mouth. He bites down, hard~
Smith: Whoa
Hood: MACK’S A CANNIBAL!
Smith: No, he’s simply trying to block the pain or redirect it or…something
Hood: He’s going to commit suicide via cannibalism!
Smith: That’s impossible
Hood: Try telling Pizza the Hut that
~Drew feels close to a tap. Mack continues biting onto his hand. Blood starts to emerge as his teeth are grinding through the skin. Drew’s eyes bulge when he sees the blood. He quickly lets go of the hold and pulls Mack’s hand out of his mouth. He punches Mack in the head, trying to keep more blood from spilling out of his punctured hand~
Smith: Drew is dedicated to this anti-blood campaign…he might have earned a submission there if he had just dealt with a little blood
Hood: A man’s got to have a code
Smith: That is true
~Drew pulls Mack up and tosses him into the ring. Drew has a little blood on his arm and he wipes it against the barricade. He slides into the ring. Mack grabs the chair. Drew doesn’t see this. Drew turns and Mack DRILLS Drew in the face with the chair!! Mack then grabs Drew with his right arm, lifts him up and plants him into the mat with the Claymore!!! Mack covers and Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings as the crowd jumps and cheers for Mack~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND THE NEW OCW SAVAGE CHAMPION…MACK O’CONNOR!!!!!
Smith: What a win for Mack O’Connor!!
Hood: This SUCKS
Smith: It is what it is, Hood. Mack O’Connor came to wrestle tonight and he avenged so many tough losses in 2015.
Hood: This is why we can’t have nice things, Smith. THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS
Smith: Relax…Drew Stevenson was in control most of the match and could have easily walked away the winner…Mack just caught him at the end with a fortuitous chair shot
Hood: I hope he CHOKES on those cookies
Smith: In hindsight, probably the best twenty bucks he’s ever spent
~Mack is handed the title. He looks down into the plate and smiles. Drew reaches up and feels a little blood on his forehead. He covers his face and rolls out of the ring. He hustles up the ramp and behind the curtain to keep from being caught on camera bleeding. Mack exits the ring and grabs his cookies. He then takes his exit up the ramp, stopping at the top to hold the title up with his good, right arm. The fans extend an appreciative ovation~
Smith: It will be interesting to see where things go from here…Drew Stevenson is far from done with his mandate, I can assure you of that.
Hood: Yea but that Savage Title is fucked...Mack O’Connor isn’t going to fight in any match near that tame moving forward.
Smith: Mack does enjoy violence
Hood: House of cards, man…they all came tumbling down with one chair shot to the head.
Smith: That’s why houses are built brick by brick on top of a concrete slab. Let’s head backstage!
~We cut outside where AKB is smoking a cigarette. This is becoming sort of an ongoing theme as Annie Alvarez walks out, holding her head in pain. Coe is shielding her with a towel from AKB while Puffer looks around for the car~
Jack Puffer: I can’t find the car anywhere?
Tatum Coe: Damnit man, keep looking…aren’t you some kind of detective? Annie’s hurt, we’ve got to get her out of here.
~AKB perks up when he hears the name of a female. He walks over. Coe tries to shoo him away~
Tatum Coe: Out of here, reporter! We don’t have time for any questions.
~Annie kindly pushes Coe away. The towel is covering part of her face as it hangs atop her head. We can see some slight swelling on her forehead~
Annie Alvarez: You, the announcer who doesn’t do anything but breaks everything. I need the number for…Scott Syren.
~AKB’s attention perks up. The crowd goes ‘ooohh’ in an intriguing manner~
AKB: Well, if you guys will let me ride with you, I’ll be more than happy to get his contact information from the company directory.
~Annie looks at Coe. Coe looks back. Annie nods and turns away, nursing her injuries~
Tatum Coe: Fine, you can come along…but not the whore.
AKB: No problem…your car is over there, by the way
~The car is right in front of them. Puffer is snooping around a dumpster. Coe rolls his eyes~
Tatum Coe: PUFFER! TO YOUR LEFT!
~Puffer turns and throws his arms in the air~
Jack Puffer: Hey you guys…I found it!!
~AKB accompanies Coe and Annie to the car where Puffer stands like the greatest detective ever. We cut to the announce table~
Smith: Wow!
Hood: No kidding, Puffer is on a roll…locating shit left and right
Smith: No, Annie wants to get in touch with…Scott Syren
Hood: Good luck with that, nobody can seem to locate that man
Smith: How long are you going to keep up this charade?
Hood: What charade?
Smith: Never mind…folks I’m being told we’ve got a direct feed into GM Marcus Welsh’s office…let’s take a quick look and see what our leader is up to
~We cut to the office of Marcus Welsh. He’s nowhere near Key West. A glass of whiskey resides next to a calendar. The date March 20th is circled with PPV and AK vs MJ written underneath. He takes a sip and slides the papers to the side. The phone rings, he picks it up~
Marcus Welsh: Yea? Really…after all those promises he screwed us again? Son of a bitch…alright, you know what to do.
~Welsh ends his call and scrolls to his text messages. An unanswered text from A. Alvarez pops up. He starts to reply but closes it out. He leans back in his chair and runs his fingers through his hair. Our screen gets all wavy~
An airplane flies over an unforgiving, barren landscape. The bottom of the screen reads TIBET. We cut to inside the small, private aircraft. Truda is seated in a suit and tie enjoying a green boxed Hi-Ci. He sucks on the straw until that annoying ‘empty’ sound fills the cabin. A man nose deep inside a newspaper stirs. He puts the paper down and looks at Truda. It’s Marcus Welsh.
“Would you like another?”
Truda nods.
“Alright, I’ll grab one. Hey, I think we’re flying over your home country. Why don’t you take a look?”
Truda becomes excited. He peers out his window. Marcus shakes his head.
“No, no, no, that window is too small. Look out the one on the door.”
Truda unfastens his seat belt and heads toward the door. He stares out with wonder. It’s his homeland…the land he loves. It’s at this moment when the Tibetan realizes he’s never been prouder, more alive! A hand reaches for the latch.
We view the plane in the air. The door opens and a figure falls out, plummeting to its death. Our view washes out
~Welsh finishes off his drink and stares at the ceiling while leaning back in his chair~
Marcus Welsh: Sadly, not every dream can come true.
~He leans forward and goes back to work. We cut to the announce table~
Smith: Not sure what our GM was thinking about...probably that date he had circled!
Hood: Interesting...Michael Jordan and Allen Kiverson? Is it like a charity event?
Smith: It's Allen IVERSON and, no...it's obvious the highly anticipated MJ Bell, Alice Knight OCW Title match...and, it appears that's going to be our first Pay Per View of 2017
Hood: Oh wow, does that mean we get to do this shit from a new spot?
Smith: I doubt it
Hood: Ah fuck
Smith: Sorry...but rumors have swirled that the first PPV event of 2017 would take place on March 20th and that Alice Knight would headline it against MJ Bell...those rumors appear to be true!
Hood: I think we need to hit a restart on 2017...this shit is so far sideways I can't even...
~The camera cuts backstage where we see Paradigm Champion The Incredible One alone at a vending machine. He pops in a couple dollars, looking to buy something to drink and makes his selection. He waits for a moment and hits the side of the vending machine, having ate his money~
The Incredible One: Son of a bitch…
~Frustrated, TIO begins to hit the vending machine furiously. Soon, the lights inside the vending machine turn off and stops responding to any button mashing. TIO curses loudly as he looks around but only finds a crew member backstage. He goes and grabs the crew member by the head and launches him into the vending machine, the glass shattering everywhere. The crowd boos at this action as he smiles, grabs his bottle of Coca Cola, and opens it but the pop sprays everywhere. The crowd roars in laughter while another laughter caught by the camera mic can be heard. TIO goes down the backstage corridor and lets out a scoff, knowing who he sees~
TIO: Well… look who it is.
~The camera zooms out to reveal, leaning up against a wall, seeing the whole ordeal, MJ Bell.~
Smith: Oh man…
Hood: I need to get the popcorn!
Smith: While I think this is no time to snack, the history between these two…
Hood: This is gonna be GOOD!
~She narrows her gaze towards him not moving but folding both arms over her chest. Her head dips down to nod in the direction of the fallen crew and broken machine~
MJ Bell: Karma works rather quickly when it comes to you, huh?
~She pushes up from the wall but makes no move towards him, and eyes the surrounding area almost marking the exits nearby. MJ exhales softly snickering at the broken glass at the floor, nudging scattered pieces with the top of her boot. Too quiet to hear the woman mutters something. TIO’s eyes widen from the muttering and offended, kicks the glass away from her boot, almost nudging her toe~
TIO: What’s that? Bitch, you wanna speak up? Cat got your tongue? I didn’t quite HEAR YOU.
~Wanting to get his point across, TIO places his palm against the wall, so MJ’s body was between the wall and TIO’s body, with his arm draping over near her shoulder. She shrinks almost submitting to him with a mousy expression. Her hand lifts to rest near his shoulder, body bending towards his before her knee strikes him directly into his side. MJ shoves him as hard as she can to get him away from her~
MJ Bell: The second my brain started to function again was the moment you lost all privilege to get that close to me! I HAD said-- You haven’t changed at all! Still full of yourself and fucking delusional!
~Shocked by the shove from MJ, TIO rubs the spot where she kneed him before chuckling. He takes a massive gulp of his soda before crushing the can with his hands and throwing it away~
TIO: That man was a massive tool, and you use tools to fix broken things. Get it? Hah! Anyways… you’re right… Madeline June… I haven’t changed. Why change when you’re Mister Incredible, because when you’re… THIS - damn - incredible, you get everything you want, baby. I got management on my side, I got this beautiful championship around my waist, and the stars have aligned with myself, “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell, and “the Marvel” Matt Meyhu. Soon the Aptitude is going to be running this place. And… if I were you… I wouldn’t get in the way.
~Those last words saw TIO glare a hole into MJ but she is currently snickering. It grows into full on laughter before calming enough for her to speak~
MJ Bell: Keep your management, that title isn’t what I’m after, and those boys are just your newest ‘get out of jail free’ cards. They’ll pull the weight your back can’t support. I think you’ve forgotten who you’re trying to threaten. I know almost all of your weaknesses including your inability to hold a title without having other people bail you out in the end! You really wanna re-hash who got you a few titles along the way?!
TIO: You think you’re funny bringing up my old back injury, eh? You do realize if my back wasn’t hurt, that triple threat match at Genesis would’ve been way different. You probably wouldn’t have walked out OCW Champion that night. Also, you know what I did during all of 2015? I went and destroyed - every - single - opponent - in Boardwalk; back included. I became a household name… what the fuck did you do? And yeah, you may know me, and you may know my weaknesses, but vice versa. I know everything about you too… and whether your head is red or white I can still get in there, twist your mind around until you cower in fucking fear, bitch! You’d be nothing if it wasn’t for me! If I didn’t show you the time of day, NO ONE would know who you are. I made you who you are today, you CUNT! You understand? I SPEAK THE TRUTH, you know this! ...Ugh, what is it about you that get’s me so GODDAMN FIRED UP?!
~Without warning, TIO turns around and throws a table down the corridor, the equipment on top of it going everywhere. He spins back, blood red in the face~
TIO: I’ve gone through hell and back this last year. You think you can make fun of me over a back injury? I went through more than you could possibly imagine. The pain I went through - you don’t know it, and the reason you don’t know it, is because I didnt’ subject you to it. I’m going to make this perfectly clear to you: OCW - is MINE. I may have the Paradigm Championship now, but my goal, is the OCW Championship. And you will not - prevent me from getting what is rightfully mine.
~MJ raises a hand to cover up her lips, eyes full of concern as she exhales softly~
MJ Bell: Oh…”mister incredible”...
~There is a chuckle as the hand that was covering her features drops away revealing a smirk. She shakes her head with another snicker. Her arms cross again with a smug, calm falling over MJ~
MJ Bell: I don’t think you understand who you’re looking at now… I’m not that scared, submissive MJ that you liked to drag through your bullshit. She might as well died last year. I don’t know what you think will happen but I can tell you that OCW Championship is not in your future. It isn’t rightfully yours either-- Had you been in that match when I won it, you would’ve lost because I got you that fucking title when you held it! Let that sink in, sweetheart, you would have never gotten that title without me taking Mia out of the picture and shoving your scared ass up that ladder. Let me explain this as clearly as I can to someone as unstable as you: that OCW Championship never truly left my hands. Not inside that ring but you? You lost it plenty of times. Even if you manage to get your greedy hands on it first… I’ll EASILY take it away from you.
~She takes a step towards him with the same calm~
MJ Bell: What I did to Alice was pure business. It wouldn’t have matter who won that title-- they would have all gotten the same treatment… I had to make a statement. I had to make it very clearly what my intentions were. It’s a shame it had to be her… but just Imagine what I will do if I really want to hurt the person who holds it. Let that sink in.
~TIO stares at her, his hands on his hip, processing everything she just said. His anger subsides for a moment, a chuckle coming up but he bites his lip and without speaking, smacks her right in the face~
Hood: YES! Pop that bitches head off!
Smith: Unbelievable. TIO is the lowest a human being can be.
Hood: No way - you’re all just jealous because you’re not as incredible as he is.
Smith: If this is what incredible is - I don’t want to be it.
~MJ’s head snaps to the side from the harsh hit. Instead of backing away or hesitating, MJ’s body pivots then slams straight into Ian sending them sprawling. Her fist throws all her weight into a hit to his jaw. Blood and saliva fly through the air from the punch, as TIO swaggers into the wall but takes his massive head and smashes it against MJ’s forehead. He then grabs her by the waist and hip tosses her into the wall. In clearly knocks the air from her because she crumbles for a moment using a hand to grip her side. Through a curtain of white, rage filled gaze aims at him, an animalistic growl empties from MJ and she lunges again. Lower in the aim because she goes for his legs to knock him over. TIO falls to the ground, landing on the shards of glass from the vending machine, and MJ jumps on top of him, beginning to throw a fury of punches into his face. All of a sudden you can hear footsteps coming as security come into view of the camera and start to pull MJ off of TIO and separate the two of them. Behind the security, Treat Cassidy shows up, shocked at the scene he sees before him~
~Treat Cassidy shakes his head at the scene he just missed. He walks over closer to the two ex-lovers as he eases the security guards grasp of MJ as he puts his own arm around her moving her away from the security team as he does. He looks to TIO whose face is all red from the litany of punches taken from MJ and can’t help to laugh~
Cassidy: Are you alright, Miss Bell?
MJ Bell: …I'm doing just peachy. Thanks.
~Cassidy focuses on MJ making sure she’s alright. From the looks of it, she looks great and even gives him a small grin. He then looks back at TIO who is grilling Cassidy with nothing but anger and hate in his eyes~
Cassidy: Well, Incredible - looks to me like, you’ve seen better days. How is life, buddy?
~TIO by this point is beyond furious at the smugness of Cassidy, the same Cassidy that he would love to strangle right now in front of the world~
Cassidy: Where were your pals? O’Donnell and Meyhu? The same pals that you had to call to come save the day last week, where were they when MJ Bell was kicking the shit out of you? I’m sure you have plenty of excuses but - I’d like to hear it. Lay it on me, Oh, Incredible One.
TIO: They’re prepping to get the tag titles off of those stupid rookies the Dravers. That’s where they are. Why the fuck are you here anyway? Why do you need to get involved in EVERYTHING that has to do with me?
~Cassidy chuckles~
Cassidy: You do have a point. That is an easy victory on behalf of your friends. The Dravers are going to get annihilated. Although, who knows how long they will keep the belts as I am doing some prepping myself. Negotiating two of my clients a shot at them when it’s all said and done. But no, Incredible - The world does not revolve around you.
~TIO is taken aback by his comments as, to Incredible One, the world DOES revolve around him~
Cassidy: As you know, I have been serving big name clients my entire career, as a matter of fact Incredible, if my memory serves me correctly, you worked for me back in 2014 as GM of Massacre. How quickly you forget about all I’ve done for you during those times, when you, hurt your back. But, long story short buddy ole pal, I am back here scouring these halls for her.
~Cassidy points to MJ who still stands beside him. TIO cocks his eyebrow, extremely confused at the whole situation~
TIO: You’re looking for her? Why do you need this waste of space?
Cassidy: As I was saying, I have served many high profile clients during my career. Chad Vargas, who you know very well as you narrowly defeated him via cheating, and Mack O’Connor. But, I needed more firepower after you called in your head hunters. Who better to get on board…
~Incredible One looks at Cassidy with disgust, still holding everything he has within him not to choke the shit out of him and finish fighting MJ~
Cassidy: Then your ex-girlfriend and former OCW Champion, Miss Madeline June herself! I am happily announcing her alignment with the Clientele and together, we are on a quest to rid the OCW of corruption and mismanagement. Not only will I be representing the next OCW champion but also the little lady that wants absolutely nothing to do with you. As much as you loved her, I can only imagine how that must eat you up inside.
~Cassidy smiles confidently as he puts his arm around MJ, rubs her back a little as he then uses both hands point directly at Incredible One~
Cassidy: Say hello to the next OCW champ, Incredible - don’t be mad!
~Treat Cassidy and MJ walk off from view of the camera as the final image is TIO going absolutely berserk, kicking around trash and broken equipment as the camera fades to Smith and Hood~
Smith: HOOD!!
Hood: WHAT? Geez, I'm right here
Smith: MJ Bell has joined Treat Cassidy's stable of clients!! That group just became, arguably, stronger than Aptitude
Hood: WHOA...easy there, little man. They might be a little better than they were five minutes ago but, I mean, c'mon
Smith: This isn't orange hair MJ we're talking about...this is PLATINUM hair MJ...
Hood: Shit, you do have a point there...this new hair has brought about a new attitude...I mean if she can dis and dismiss her good friend, Alice Knight...maybe she's learned how to play the game
Smith: Indeed...it seems she's grown up a bit and is here to make money, not friends
Hood: But, man, The Incredible One just can't stay away from her, can he? They are like COPY AND PASTE, yo
Smith: Yea, that joke didn't work last week when AKB told it, mockingly, to Who'Re
Hood: Yea, I know...we're just 8 matches deep and I'm running out of material...would Ike and Tina have worked better?
Smith: Yikes...let's head backstage and, once we return...it is the debut the wrestling world has been talking about all week long...
~Backstage, we see Max Shade interacting with a young child. He’s handing the child a signed autograph book and shaking hands with the kid. After a few moments, Max smiles and holds up one of his fingers, and with his other hand pulls out an empty water bottle with the top off. The kid looks confused, so Max, with the bottle still in his hand, grasps his own head with both hands and twists his head around, squeezing the water bottle in the process. The bottle makes a loud “CRUNCH!” sound, which makes the child jump a little. Max falls over, his tongue comically sticking out of his mouth as he pretends to be dead. The kid looks a little upset, but some nearby adults are laughing. After a few moments, Max gets up quickly and holds his hands out in a “ta-da!” fashion. The child laughs and claps, and gives Max a big hug~
~Suddenly, we hear some loud bellowing from off-screen~
DR. ORANGE: HEY! HEY! No! Get away from my client! Go on, scat!
~Max looks up with a worried look in his eyes, as Dr. Orange enters the frame. He shoos away the kid and his entourage of adults, who scurry away giving Dr. Orange the stink eye. Dr. Orange jabs a finger into Max’s chest and gets in his face~
DR. ORANGE: Not okay! No! You’re supposed to be a heel, Max! You know what that means, right? It’s a little thing called kay-fob! We’ve been over this! Your role here is big scary monster! You’re the Living Shadow! The Ebony Colossus, for crying out loud! You don’t hug and play nice with the womb-turds, okay? Hey, look at me…
~Max is looking away from his manager, his eyes rolled to the sky. Dr. Orange grabs Max by the chin and pulls his face forward again~
DR. ORANGE: You WILL listen to me, Max! This is not just your career on the line here, it’s mine too! There’s a lot of money to be made here, but I need you to cooperate!
~Max looks like he’s about to say something, but Dr. Orange cuts him off with a finger on Max’s lips~
DR. ORANGE: Ah ah ah, remember, no talkee. You need to talk so bad, how about you go in a nice private room and have a chat with your sister, huh? I’m sure she’s feeling pretty lonely in that HOSPITAL BED right now, right?
~Max looked like he was about to blow up, until Dr. Orange got to the words “hospital bed” - at which point Max visibly looks like he’s sucking it up. With his eyes closed and his teeth gritting, Max pinches the bridge of his nose, shakes his head for a few seconds, and then nods towards Dr. Orange before walking off. Dr. Orange adjusts his suit jacket and looks around. He sees the cameras that are filming and frowns~
DR. ORANGE: You press morons have already been warned about trying to get my client to talk on camera. If I hear even ONE word from Max’s mouth on an episode of Massacre, you’re all getting served with a lawsuit. Now go find something else to point your cameras at. Go on, take a hike.
~The cameras back away, briefly catching Dr. Orange pounding a few numbers into his smartphone and lifting it to his ear as the scene cuts back to the announce table~
Smith: Wow...that's some form of subjugation..I kind of feel bad for Max Shade.
Hood: Max Shade was involved with Watergate?
Smith: SUBJUGATE..look it up, will ya? It'd do you more good than that urban dictionary.
Hood: Oh no, Urban Dictionary teaches you life lessons...shit you can use on the street...or in the bedroom with a dirty whore.
Smith: I wonder what's up with Shade's sister, though...sounds like she's in bad shape?
Hood: Maybe she's just a nurse who likes to sleep at work? Those hospital beds probably aren't that bed if you haven't been lying in them for days.
Smith: Yea, I don't think that's the story
Hood: So, what is the story, morning glory?
Smith: I have a feeling we're doing to find out...well folks, it's time for the main event. It's a match the wrestling world has been talking about and looking forward to all week. The OCW homegrown Dravers defending their tag team titles against two of the best wrestlers this world has to offer in CJ O'Donnell and Matt Meyhu.
Hood: Aka..NO FUCKING CONTEST
Smith: You might be surprised. Folks, it's time for the talking to cease and the action to...
Hood: Can't think of a rhyme, can ya?
Smith: It's getting late...let's go down to ringside!
OCW Tag Team Championship
Tornado Tag Rules
The Dravers Boys © (2-0) vs. Aptitude (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a Tornado Tag Team Rules Match scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championships!!!
~”Circus For A Psycho” plays to amped - up cheers as Jonathan and Nathan emerge from the curtain amping up the crowd further. They sing along to his theme, slapping the hands of fans along the way. They leap into the ring, onto separate turnbuckles while continuing to sing their theme and smiling cocky, but friendly~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Denver, Colorado…weighing in at a combined 400lbs…they are the OCW Tag Team Champions…The Dravers Boys!!!
Smith: The champs coming out first…disrespectful
Hood: Hey, they’re lucky to be coming out at all! In a poll taken at Harvard one hour ago 89% of the registered voters said Aptitude should have just been HANDED the titles. It’s a fucking honor for the Dravers to be able to lay down for Aptitude…an HONOR
Smith: I so hope the Dravers win
~”Lean Back” by Fat Joe blasts through the arena. TIO appears with Meyhu and O’Donnell alongside. “Aptitude” is plastered on the Tron. The fans stand and look on in awe at the trio, at first…as people are known to do. TIO goes overboard with his signature smug attitude and the fans begin to boo. He nods, liking the change in atmosphere. Together, the trio makes their way to the ring. O’Donnell stares up at the Dravers, all the green has been cleaned away. Meyhu, who hasn’t been seen all show, appears in great shape. He, too, shares the intensity of his partner. TIO shuffles in a very cavalier motion to the side and toward the announce table as Meyhu and O’Donnel step up onto the apron and into the ring~
Belvedere: And their opponents…coming in at a total combined weight of 418lbs….The Aptitude!!!!
~The bell rings as Meyhu and O’Donnell share a few words with The Incredible One. He hops off the apron and confidently heads for the announce desk. The Dravers huddle for a moment while keeping an eye on their opponents. Meyhu steps toward the middle of the ring as the OCW crowd is on their feet, anxious to watch O’Donnell and Meyhu for the first time. O’Donnell remains in their corner. The Dravers quit huddling and step toward Meyhu. Meyhu turns and looks at CJ. CJ motions for Meyhu to give it a go. He steps through the ropes and leans forward, watching as though he were a spectator. Meyhu smiles and turns his attention back on the Dravers Boys~
Smith: Strange…they do understand the rules, right?
Hood: Of course they understand the rules, Smith…they picked the match!
Smith: Well what is O’Donnell doing?
Hood: Why should the Distinguished one break a sweat if Meyhu can topple the morons on his own?
Smith: Ah, so it’s not ignorance, it’s arrogance.
Hood: Nah, it’s aptitude!
TIO: Damn right it’s APTITUDE
Hood: Tee Eye Oh!!! Hey man!
TIO: What up, Hood
Smith: TIO, nice to see you
TIO: It’s The Incredible One to you Smith
Smith: Oh, okay
~Nathan looks at Jonathan. Jonathan nods, Nathan follows suit. “Okay,” Jonathan says and he sends Nathan into the corner. Nathan steps through the ropes and begins cheering his brother on~
Smith: The Dravers aren’t going to back down!
TIO: Yes they will
Hood: Biggest fucking mistake of their careers. Meyhu is going to slap the dye right out of that boy’s hair.
Smith: Why are we SO concerned with hair dye tonight?
TIO: Have you ever LISTENED To a Dravers promo? It’s all they fucking talk about. Slapping the dye out of their hair would literally ruin them.
~Jonathan throws a punch at Meyhu. It connects. Meyhu’s head snaps to the right. But that’s about it. CJ laughs from the corner. Meyhu kind of smirks and turns back around. Jonathan goes for another punch but Meyhu blocks it. Meyhu grabs Jonathan by his hair and tosses him to the ground. He then rubs the bottom of his boot into the face of Jonathan. Jonathan tries to crawl away but Meyhu stomps the lower portion of Jonathan’s back, pinning him to the ring. Nathan, growing antsy, hops through the ropes~
Smith: He’s seen enough…I get bravado and competition but the rules are the rules and the Dravers might as well utitlize them.
Hood: I don’t really think that’s going to matter, Smith. This match could be over in seconds.
Smith: As good as the Dravers are as a team, Matt Meyhu is one of the most accomplished wrestlers in our industry. They simply can’t handle him one on one.
TIO: And you’re just figuring this out NOW? Did you not see the money line on this match? Aptitude were HUGE favorites.
Hood: TIO…tell me what happens when CJ O’Donnell gets in there…
Smith: Well I…
Hood: I WANT TO HEAR IT FROM HIM
TIO: That’s simple, Hood. More of the same…nonstop ass kicking. These titles are Aptitudes, it’s only a matter of time.
~Nathan clubs Meyhu in the back with forearms. Meyhu stops kicking his brother and turns around. He shoves Nathan into the corner. Nathan hits hard. Meyhu crushes him with a clothesline. Meyhu lifts a few knees into Nathan’s gut. The crowd’s enamor with Meyhu has worn off. They start to boo, realizing that their beloved tag team is being toyed with in embarrassing fashion~
Smith: Fans aren’t liking this
TIO: That means we’re doing something right, idiot.
Hood: They’d better get fucking used to it…this is how shit is going to go from now on
Smith: Perhaps but they don’t have to rub it in. Seriously, show some respect for the boys and those titles.
TIO: You have to rub it in…it’s the only way these morons in attendance will get the message.
~Jonathan stumbles to his feet. He sees Meyhu rag dolling his brother in the corner. He measures Meyhu up and uses his brain. He charges at the back of Meyhu’s knee. He drives his shoulder into it. Meyhu stumbles, showing weakness for the first time in the match. He turns around and grabs Jonathan by the hair. He shoves him to the mat. Nathan gets to his feet and he goes after the same knee, spearing it from behind. Meyhu falls to one knee. Nathan begins kicking him in the back~
Smith: They are starting to make some headway!
Hood: Ugh, those Dravers just can’t do anything without cheating, right? Two on one, look at this crap!
Smith: Hey, that’s Aptitude’s fault!
TIO: Don’t worry, it’s short lived. We don’t want to embarrass the champs TOO badly, for OCW’s sake
~CJ lets out a sigh. He sees his partner’s knee becoming vulnerable and he decides to take action. He steps through the ropes and slugs a forearm into the side of Nathan’s head! Nathan falls onto his elbow. CJ kicks Nathan in the face! Nathan flips onto his back. Meyhu gets up and works out his knee. It seems to be fine. He pulls Jonathan to his feet…CJ pulls Nathan to his feet. They Irish whip the brothers into one another!! They smack with force and crumble to the mat. The crowd boos louder and louder as the outcome appears clear~
Smith: This is too much too soon for these boys. We might need to stop the match.
Hood: Fine by me…like I said, this match should have never happened in the first place
TIO: Nah, fuck that noise. They wanted this? They got it…now they have to pay the consequences for their actions.
Smith: Umm, Aptitude demanded this match
TIO: Is that some dye in your hair, Smith? Are those frosted tips? Because I’ll slap the dye right out of your hair as well
~Meyhu pulls Nathan to his feet and whips him into a corner. Nathan hits hard. CJ picks Jonathan up and whips him into a corner, Jonathan hits hard. Meyhu yanks Nathan out of the corner and whips him into the ropes. Nathan bounces off and Meyhu hoists Nathan in the air and over his head. CJ is waiting behind Meyhu and he drops Nathan with a Codebreaker!!! Nathan rolls out of the ring, decimated. Meyhu reaches for Jonathan~
Smith: Innovative move…I’ve got to give them that
Hood: You’re going to see a lot of things you’ve never seen before, Smith…bet that.
TIO: It’s only innovative to those who have never seen Meyhu and O’Donnell perform. We do shit like that on a regular basis. The bar has been raised, gentlemen, get used to it.
~Meyhu whips Jonathan into the ropes. Jonathan bounces off and he goes to hoist Jonathan like he did Nathan earlier. Jonathan, though, wraps his legs around Meyhu’s head while in the air and looks for a huricanrana. Meyhu blocks it!! CJ stands behind Meyhu, waiting. Meyhu pulls Jonathan’s legs off of his neck and locks them under his arms. He then falls back with a catapult. Jonathan shoots at CJ who drops him with a codebreaker much like he did Nathan. Jonathan rolls out of the ring, landing right by Nathan’s side. CJ gives Meyhu a pat on the back as the two members walk to the ropes and casually lean into them, looking down at the Dravers Boys~
Smith: This is just sickening to watch…I don’t know why they have to be such jerks about it.
Hood: You have to hammer the point home, Smith. Send the message…
Smith: I think the message was received last week…we get it, these guys are good.
Hood: Nah nah, see you said ‘good’. It’s obvious the message isn’t clear…I think they need to speak louder.
TIO: OCW should really let Hood call this shit by himself. He gets it. Smith, you’re a fucking dumbass. Anybody who refers to us as ‘good’ needs a reality check.
~Meyhu and CJ head outside. CJ grabs Nathan by the hair…Meyhu grabs Jonathan by the back of the neck. Meyhu whips Jonathan away from CJ and Nathan…toward the barricade. Jonathan hits hard. Meyhu charges in and clotheslines Jonathan over the barricade, into the crowd. An ill-advised owl head jumps up and down yelling at Meyhu. Meyhu hops the railing and slaps the mask off the fan’s face. The fan turns around and runs away~
Smith: Not a very dedicated owl head
Hood: Well, to be fair, it’s not like that’s Alice Knight getting slapped around…it’s one HALF of The Dravers Boys.
Smith: Still, given all they’ve done for the owl head movement you’d like to see more dedication?
Hood: Oh, so you’re all for fan rioting now?
Smith: I didn’t say that
TIO: This entire arena could riot and it wouldn’t change the outcome. And, yea, those owl heads are pretty stupid. We’ll rid OCW of that fad soon enough.
Hood: Thank you…finally, a man who speaks with truth and integrity. A man we can be proud of!
~CJ kicks Nathan in the gut. Nathan staggers against the apron. CJ unleashes a flurry of open hands, elbows and foearms…capping them off with a spinning back fist. Nathan falls to his knees. CJ looks out at the crowd with a confident smirk. He points down at Nathan and shakes his head in derision. He lifts a knee, smashing the face of Nathan. Nathan falls to the floor~
Smith: I know Meyhu has received a lot of attention since signing but CJ O’Donnell is every bit as dangerous. He just showed a glimpse of what he can do right there.
Hood: He’s Irish and he has a chest tattoo…that makes him tough in my book.
Smith: What book is that?
Hood: The book of Hood.
TIO: I’d buy a copy if you let me write the epilogue, prologue and insert several chapters about my own life.
Hood: DEAL!
~Jonathan is crawling away from Meyhu in the crowd. They part, giving Jonathan space. Meyhu catches up, grabbing Jonathan by his tights. Jonathan reaches into a container of popcorn. Meyhu pulls him up and Jonathan throws salt into Meyhu’s eyes!! Meyhu staggers back, against the barricade. Jonathan takes in a few deep breaths and he sprints at Meyhu, leaping through the air with a crossbody!! The impact sends both men tumbling over the barricade, back to the ringside area~
Smith: Finally, some life!!
Hood: What a bitch ass move…salt, really? And popcorn salt at that
Smith: What’s the difference?
Hood: I don’t know, just seems kind of carny to throw popcorn salt in a man’s eyes.
TIO: That’s because it is…these boys are nothing more than a side show. Reminds of the crap the man who I will not name used to sign.
Hood: I swear his entire family are circus folk
TIO: That or gypsies. They might be gypsies.
~O’Donnell hears the thud. He turns and spots Meyhu down. Nathan is still lying front first. CJ rushes over and helps Meyhu to his feet. Meyhu points toward his eyes, infected with salt. CJ pats Meyhu on the back. Meyhu goes for a walk. CJ yanks Jonathan up and screams at him. He whips Jonathan toward the ring post. Jonathan slams on the brakes, grabbing the post with both hands. CJ charges…Jonathan throws a mule kick. CJ blocks it and twists Jonathan around. He kicks Jonathan in the gut, hooks him and drops him on the outside with a snap suplex! A man brings his thirsty girlfriend a freshly purchased, ice cold bottle of water. Meyhu rips it from the guy’s hand, before he can give it to the girl and rips off the cap. He douses his eyes with the water, blinking rapidly to remove the salt. The girlfriend looks at her boyfriend in anger as though saying “do something!” The boyfriend puffs out his chest. Meyhu open hand slaps the guy and he sits down. The girlfriend gets up and leaves, ditching her boyfriend~
Smith: Well that was rude
Hood: Hey, he’s not the one throwing SALT like a damn moron inside a diner wishing for luck
TIO: Kick his ass, Seabass!
Smith: It was an act of desperation, guys. These Dravers Boys are fighting to save their championships.
Hood: They did do Meyhu one favor by throwing that salt. That girl is SO going to buy a Matt Meyhu t-shirt before she leaves.
TIO: If she’s smart she’ll get him to sign it after the show. We at Aptitude are always welcoming toward our female fans.
~CJ, seated on the floor after the suplex, enjoys a good laugh at the boyfriend’s expense with Jonathan reaching for his aching back. Nathan’s hand grabs for the apron cloth. He uses it to get to his feet. CJ sees this and rolls his eyes. He gets to his feet to take care of Nathan. Jonathan spins around and grabs the right leg of CJ. CJ tries to kick him off. Nathan hustles over, in pain…he lunges and drills CJ with a superkick!! CJ staggers, remaining on his feet. Jonathan is able to get to his knees…he crawls between CJ’s legs and hoists him up, into an Electric Chair position. Nathan climbs atop the barricade and he leaps off with a clothesline, taking CJ off the shoulders of Jonathan!! CJ lands roughly on the upper portion of his back, folding in half…his knees near his nose. Jonathan sits up against the barricade. Nathan sits up against the ring steps with CJ’s body in between. The fans jump to their feet and begin chanting “Dravers! Dravers!”~
Smith: What a move!! The resiliency of these two young men!
Hood: A minor bump in the road, Smith.
Smith: Looked more like a pothole to me.
Hood: Pssshh…there you go, getting all hyperbolic and shit
TIO: Pipe down, Smith or I’ll throw you in a pothole
Smith: What? How would you…
Hood: Quiet, Smith…in a recent survey taken people revealed that if TIO hadn’t trained to become a wrestler, he would have become a hitman.
TIO: You hear that, Smith?
Smith: eek
~Meyhu takes a sip of water and discards the bottle. He walks over toward the carnage. Nathan’s body is blocked by the steps. All he sees is CJ and Jonathan. Jonathan gets to his feet, bracing for Meyhu. Nathan sticks his foot out, tripping Meyhu. Meyhu turns his focus onto Nathan. Jonathan rushes up and he kicks the back of that right knee they had hammered earlier. Meyhu stumbles. He turns his focus onto Jonathan and wraps his hand around Jonathan’s throat. Nathan crawls over and clips the back of Meyhu’s right knee. Meyhu grabs Nathan by the hair and yanks him to his feet. He hooks both Boys for a suplex. He lifts them up, but his right knee slightly buckles. He drops them down. They double knee Meyhu in the gut, lift him up…hold him and drop him with a brainbuster onto the floor!!! The crowd goes wild as both Meyhu and CJ are down. The Dravers get to their feet, recovering more and more with each second~
Smith: They took down The Marvel!! Both members of Aptitude are down! They’ve got a shot
Hood: Fucking selfish ass bitches…if they win tonight they might kill all of OCW’s momentum!
TIO: Relax, Hood…that’s not going to happen.
Smith: If The Dravers are able to notch a win over two widely respected talents like Meyhu and O’Donnell then that will show the rest of the wrestling industry just what kind of talent we have here in OCW.
TIO: Hahahahaha
~The Dravers grab CJ and drag him near the ring. They hurl him in under the bottom rope. Nathan slides in behind. Jonathan climbs onto the apron. Nathan gets to his feet and pulls CJ up. CJ head butts Nathan!! Nathan staggers against the ropes. Out of nowhere Jonathan flies into view with a clothesline from the top rope to the side of CJ’s head!! CJ staggers to the side. Nathan gets back to his feet and he lifts a jumping knee into the chest of CJ. He then whips CJ toward Jonathan who superkicks CJ in the face!! CJ falls to the mat as Jonathan goes for the cover! The crowd counts with Scruff~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Close one!! They nearly passed the test!
Hood: Mother fucker, son of a bitch…c’mon, CJ!
TIO: Whew, he’s got this, no worries.
Smith: You sound a little nervous over there. It’s two on one and I don’t care how close Meyhu and CJ are…they can’t overcome the bond that twins share.
Hood: Most sets of twins, I’d agree. But these Dravers, I don’t know. There’s something about them I just don’t trust. I don’t think they are twins.
Smith: Oh come on, that’s impossible. They are identical.
Hood: I think they are CLONES
TIO: That’s some sound logic there, Hood. I think we need to spread the rumor…they are clones, not twins. Makes sense to me.
Smith: Stop with the rumor mongering!
Hood: Hitman, Smith…hiiiiiitman
Smith: *trembles audibly*
~Meyhu gets to his feet. He heads for the apron. Jonathan yells at Nathan, pointing at Meyhu. Meyhu gets on the apron. Nathan drop kicks Meyhu’s right knee! Meyhu falls to the ground again, holding his knee in pain. The crowd cheers, especially the boyfriend who talks some ill-advised shit. Nathan reaches for the top rope and starts to fly over, onto the body of Meyhu but Jonathan grabs him by the arm, pointing at CJ. Nathan nods. Jonathan pulls CJ to his feet. He looks at Nathan. They each take a side. They poise themselves for Seeing Double (Double Superkick). They charge in. CJ ducks! Both boys whiff. CJ jumps up behind and elbows Nathan in the back of the head!! Nathan staggers into the ropes. Jonathan delivers a Pele kick to the face of CJ!! CJ sways and falls to the mat. Jonathan checks on his brother, his head does not appear to be busted open~
Smith: CJ O’Donnell narrowly avoided the move that won the Dravers Boys the OCW Tag Titles!
TIO: Narrowly? Could you BE more dramatic…he dodged that with ease.
Hood: I know, right? He ain’t seeing double yet…those boys are gonna have to get that Irish man much drunker than that.
Smith: Getting an Irish man drunk…hard task, wouldn’t you say?
Hood: Tougher than the skin of a middle aged woman working a tanning salon
Smith: Wow, that’s tough
TIO: Only if you’re drinking wine coolers and kamikazes, which I’m sure are favorites of the pink haired duo.
~CJ staggers to his feet. Jonathan runs him over with a clothesline. The fans stand and react. Meyhu is on the apron. Nathan rushes over to kick Meyhu in the knee, but Meyhu side steps it. Nathan gets caught in the ropes. Meyhu grabs him by the head and pulls Nathan to his feet. Before he can do anything, Jonathan rushes in with a kick to Meyhu’s right knee. Again, Meyhu falls off the apron to the floor. Jonathan checks on Nathan. They turn around…as they do, CJ comes sprinting in, off the ropes with a double knee to both Dravers Boys!! They fall back with CJ landing on his back as well, in between the two brothers. The crowd cheers and gets to their feet as the three men inside the ring are breathing heavily while Meyhu works his knee back and forth while outside~
Smith: What a move by CJ O’Donnell!! He took out both brothers with that double flying knee or…whatever you call it.
TIO: And you’re the professional? Geezus
Hood: Just a distinguished man doing what he must to win a match
Smith: Indeed!
~O’Donnell looks to pin one of the Boys but realizes it’s been too long. He gets to his feet and waits for one of them to get to their feet. Jonathan does first. Nathan stands up behind. CJ rushes in for his patented Running Single Leg High Knee (Irish Knowledge)…Jonathan ducks and Nathan drills CJ in the face with a superkick!!! CJ falls to the mat. Nathan goes for a pin but Jonathan picks him up off CJ~
Smith: Jonathan sees the bigger picture here…one superkick isn’t going to do it. They need to have CJ Seeing Double!
Hood: Nauseating…seriously.
TIO: Ah shit, c’mon CJ, you got this.
Smith: C’mon, boys!! Finish him off!!
~The boys position themselves. CJ struggles to his feet. They are about to spring forward when Meyhu climbs onto the apron and grabs Jonathan by the hair. Jonathan turns around and tries fighting Meyhu off. Nathan doesn’t see what’s going on as he’s dialed into CJ. He lunges forward and superkicks CJ!! Nathan goes for the pin with Scruff making the count!~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Arrrgggghhhh
Hood: So much for seeing double…it appears Nathan lost his wing man…CJ only saw single.
Smith: That darn Meyhu!
TIO: Nothing to worry about there…just trying to spike Massacre’s ratings. CJ could have kicked out at one, obviously.
~Nathan runs his fingers through his hair and kicks at the mat. He looks over at his brother who manages to get Meyhu off the apron. Jonathan steps through the ropes and leaps at Meyhu. Meyhu catches him! Meyhu turns toward the ring steps and he drills Jonathan into them with an Alabama Slam!!! Jonathan’s body goes limp as it slimes down the steps, melting onto the floor. Meyhu turns his focus onto Nathan in the ring~
TIO: BOOM!!! Haha
Smith: Oh no
TIO: Oh yes
Hood: Haha, he fucked that bitch up! Knocked the dye right out of his hair
Smith: Get out of there Nathan! Buy some time!
Hood: What was that dumbass brother of his doing anyway?
Smith: Trying to eliminate Meyhu…at this stage in their careers it’s obvious the Dravers need that two to one advantage to win
TIO: You can’t eliminate a man like Matt Meyhu. He’s like permanent ink.
Smith: Wow, I think Hood is influencing you…
~Meyhu climbs onto the apron with a no fuck around tone. CJ staggers to his feet. Nathan hesitates…he balls his fists. He steps toward Meyhu. Meyhu nods his head to what’s going on behind Nathan. Nathan turns around and eats Irish Knowledge right in the face!!! He falls to the mat as CJ makes the cover with Meyhu entering into the ring~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…AND THE NEW OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS….THE APTITUDE!!!!!
TIO: Called it!! Haha, the belts are where they belong!
Smith: I’m so disheartened right now
Hood: Finally! Tag champs we can be proud of!
Smith: You really think that? Listen to this crowd, they are somewhere between irate and depressed.
Hood: And they know what, exactly?
Smith: ……
Hood: Iressed my case
TIO: Well on that horribly butchered form of English language, I’m going to take my leave. Hood, it was a pleasure. Smith, please quit your day job. Everybody listening at home…I hope you enjoyed what you just saw because that was only the beginning. The Aptitude is here and every member of OCW is going to have to face the test.
~TIO rips the tag belts from Scruff. He shoves Scruff to the floor and enters into the ring. He hands one belt to Meyhu and another to O’Donnell. They start to pose, but TIO holds up his index finger. He grabs Nathan by the hair and hurls him over the top rope, out of the ring like a piece of garbage. He smiles and the three men hoist their titles high above their heads with “Aptitude” displayed on the tron. Fans boo, trash is thrown and the inconsolable boyfriend chugs what's left of his FRESCA~
Smith: Sickening…these men have come in here and just taken over. This is now how OCW operates
Hood: New era, Smith, new ownership…new rules. And, to be honest…aside from a few issues, I’m loving it.
Smith: That says it all…well folks, it’s been a historic evening. We’ve run long and a new episode of Westcoast Whores is up next. See you all next week!
~We fade to black~