OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, August 20th 2018
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Uggghhhhh…why did we drink so much last night? Fucking hell, man. Blackberry Twisted Tea? Tasted a lot better than we expected. Paying for it now, though. Ah, whatever…Monday is finally coming to an end. We didn’t get much work accomplished. We pretty much floated along, dreaming about tomorrow…and Wednesday and Thursday…you know, days when we wouldn’t feel so terminally hungover. But, there is one silver lining embedded within the torture that is Monday, Monday. Monday Night Massacre, baby! Sunk deep into the coach, coddling a bottle of water with a bowl full of painkillers within arm’s reach, we watch some re-run of a Do It Yourself show. We are semi-inspired. That faulty back door handle needs fixing and we are going to do it ourselves (spoiler alert – no we won’t)! The show reaches its end and the channel automatically changes to STARZ just in time to catch the OCW logo. It becomes manifest – Monday Night Massacre is here! We cut to the Massacre logo followed by a vivacious OCW audience full of screaming fans. These people are reminiscent of us from around, oh, say, 8pm yesterday evening. We hate that they are so fired up but relish in the fact that their Tuesdays will SUCK. Anyway, sit back, relax and enjoy the show~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host, Smith and alongside me as always is Hood
Hood: I’m so Hoooooood
Smith: Yes, that is your name
Hood: Speaking of names…did you hear the one about the guy with no middle name?
Smith: I haven’t had the pleasure of hearing that one, no
Hood: Rumor has it his favorite store is the GAP
Smith: …
Hood: ….
Smith: We have a great show in store for you all this evening! Two number one contender’s matches and two Margarita Mix contests…after tonight we will have a much clearer view of Mayhem on the Midway
Hood: Say, did you hear the one about…
Smith: Let’s head down to ringside for our first contest!
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Singles Match
OGDA (0-0) vs. Jack Puffer (0-0)
~Puffer is in the ring looking like Puffer~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is a singles match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, Jack Puffer!
~A rainbow shoots over the entrance way....~
"Most of the time I guess I am!"
~OGDA runs out from the back to a huge pop from every Shinning Star in attendance!~
"But if there's trouble I'll be there
~The Rainbow Warriors are flooding the ramp area to the ring just to get close to OGDA!
"Look at me go!
~Highfives!
"Flying through the sky,
Fighting the bad guys,
There's no need to fear
Cuz I'll be here"
~The children are reunited with their parents!
"I'll be your superhero"
~Everyone! Sing along!~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…From the hearts of every Shinning Star in the world, from the Smiles of each and every single little buddy that has graced God's green earth…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 320ish lbs…Orgulloso Guardian Del Arcoiris!!!
~OGDA slides into the ring upon hearing his name. He stands tall and triumphant. The fans are already behind this newcomer. Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: I have a feeling this is going to end poorly for The Detective
Hood: Yea, Puffer is fucked
~Puffer approaches OGDA and attempts to offer his services for OGDA. He mentions OGDA’s legal issues. OGDA shakes his head and begins to lecture Puffer on being a terrible detective who takes other people’s money without ever solving a case. Puffer tries defending his actions~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: Decimation shall commence in three…two…
~Puffer, out of instinct throws a punch. It barely moves OGDA’s masked head. OGDA wags his finger at Puffer. Puffer starts to cower. OGDA DRILLS Puffer with a right hand!! Puffer’s body flies into the ropes! He bounces off and is DRILLED to the mat with a SPEAR!! The crowd goes wild! OGDA pops to his feet, fired up~
Smith: Jack Puffer was just broken in half!
Hood: Will OGDA do the wrestling world a tremendous favor and finally put Puffer into retirement?
Smith: I’d say there’s a chance!
~OGDA fires the crowd up by raising his hand. They chant “OGDA!” He steps through the ropes and waits for Puffer to get to his feet. Puffer does, holding his midsection in extreme pain. OGDA leaps up, he springboards off and flies through the air, drilling Puffer with a flying forearm!!! The Detective crashes into the mat, unconscious. OGDA makes the cover…Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…Orgulloso Guardian Del Arcoiris!!!!!
Smith: Well that was…well, that was brutal
Hood: Puffer is dead…and OGDA is super over with this crowd
Smith: Indeed he is…this guy has potential, Hood
Hood: Just like all these other newcomers around here…OCW is so hot right now!
Smith: Haha, indeed!
I have just the thing to wear
I'm a superhero"
It's mayhem!
It's Madness!
Sally is sad cuz she didn't get a hug!~
I'm a superhero
Look at me go"
Hugs!
Lowfives!
Selfies!
All of this going on as OCW's Superhero makes his way to the ring....~
Everyone is happy!
Sally got a hug!
There is so much happiness as the OGDA rolls into the ring and climbs the nearest set of turnbuckles!~
~We cut backstage. Welsh appears ready for his contract signing. As manifested by the contract sitting atop his desk. He looks at Knux~
Marcus Welsh: Alright, Knux…I’m going with this based on the assumption that you have my back.
~Knux nods. It’s his job, really. He gets paid well to stand and look intimidating while throwing the occasional punch to the throat~
Marcus Welsh: Well, alright then…let’s go placate that psycho Zybala so we can appease Mr. Buffett. What a world we live in, Knux. What. A. World.
~Welsh exits his office with Knux following closely behind. He stops, turns around and grabs the contract (almost forgot it!). He resumes his exit with Knux shutting the door behind them~
Smith: Looks like we’re getting a contract signing!
Hood: I guess that means Welsh landed on a stipulation
Smith: I can’t imagine what he’d choose
Hood: If I were him I’d do some stip where Welsh can bring knives and swords and guns into the ring while wearing a coat of armor. Zybala, on the other hand, is barred from using weapons or wearing any sort of protective material. That’s what I’d go with
Smith: And what would you call that match?
Hood: Something like “Man, that other guy is fucked” match
Smith: Classy
~Welsh emerges from behind the curtain. Knux is right behind him. The crowd responds with BOOOOO. Welsh shakes his head, not at the crowd but at the lunacy of this entire situation. Marcus Welsh in a wrestling match. What the fuck. He reaches the ring…Knux parts the ropes easing Welsh’s entry. He stands in the ring and takes a mic from Belvedere~
Marcus Welsh: I was hired for one, simple reason – I’m a businessman. I know how to turn a profit. That’s why Jimmy Buffett hired me over all the other applicants. He needed an individual with a sharp, business acumen to resurrect this emaciated company. While Dean was a popular owner he was also an insouciant owner. Booking on the fly. Handshake deals. Switching matches the night of the show. A sort of anachronistic way of doing business. That type of ownership, managing might have worked in the early 2000s, but not now. Not for a company the size of OCW.
~A “DEAN” chant breaks out. Welsh rolls his eyes~
Marcus Welsh: So I was hired to turn handshakes into legal documents and file cabinets into zip drives. OCW has since thrived. Until now…
~The crowd starts to boo, realizing where this is going~
Marcus Welsh: For whatever reason Mr. Buffett solicited the services of Mike Zybala in the role of commissioner with more autonomy than I’d prefer. This has led to a cavalcade of lunacy. One decision after another made by a certifiable mad man derailing complex, thought out plans. A bull in a china shop? More like a tornado in a trailer park. The man is simply uncontrollable. He cannot be reasoned with and he cannot be structured. I’ve tried and tried and tried…but, apparently I have failed because, well, here we are.
~Welsh holds up the contract~
Marcus Welsh: We are on the precipice of finalizing Zybala’s dumbest idea, yet. An idea I have no control over. I am bound to this man’s will, apparently. I must compete at Mayhem on the Midway unless Commissioner Zybala grants me a reprieve. That would require levity. That would require a sensible man. It’s an outcome I do not expect. I am not a wrestler. I play golf. I played basketball in my youth. I keep in shape but…I am not a wrestler. Zybala is a wrestler. In spite of all his flaws and, trust me, they are innumerable…Zybala is a standout, in ring performer. Why he chooses to create such a colossal mismatch, is beyond me. Why he deems it necessary for a non-wrestler to take up a spot on one of OCW’s biggest events, is beyond me. A spot, no doubt, that should and would go to a deserving, in ring competitor – if I had my say. But, alas, as previously stated, here we are…standing atop the doorstep of insanity. And, having said that…I guess it’s apropos that I call out my opponent, the commissioner of OCW…Mike Zybala
~Mike Zybala walks out onto the ramp and heads towards the ring, uncharacteristically serious. He doesn't pay attention to the fans, he just walks to the ring and enters it. He grabs a microphone and addresses Marcus.~
Zybala: You've tried? You've TRIED?! Marcus, 95% of my ideas have been turned down by you without a second thought. Yes, I will admit that a few of them have been out there. But for the most part I have always pitched ideas that I thought would appeal to the fans and grab attention from other promotions. Hell, we have more and more people signing up to wrestle for us! When WE reopened OCW, we barely had ten people on the roster. Now look at the locker room! Probably over thirty people back there. Old schoolers, new people and even a few Outsider's with a dedicated fan base! We have enough people now that you even took my idea of a tag team title tournament and turned it into a new Mixer! You can't claim that to be just your idea. Whether you like it or not, I contributed to where we are now.
As for our match, I feel that you stepping in the ring would give you a better appreciation for what your employees do on the weekly basis. You kind of detached yourself from everyone. Plus, I know deep down inside, you want to get a few punches in on my pretty mug. I think that it would help both of us get out our frustrations with one another and afterwards we can start fresh and work together. Also, I know you're not really a wrestler. That's why I'm letting you pick the match type in a gesture of good will to help level the playing field. So what match stip do you have in mind? What's on that contract you got there?
~Welsh, with the contract in his hand, smiles~
Marcus Welsh: Now…if I sign this. You’re leaving for the rest of the night?
~Zybala nods~
Marcus Welsh: No take backs. No reneging. No matter what the stipulation is?
Mike Zybala: I’ve already made plans. Sign it and I’m out of here for the remainder of the evening.
Marcus Welsh: Terrific. The stipulation I selected as…a Street Fight. No Disqualification. Falls Count Anywhere.
~The crowd pops~
Smith: I wasn’t expecting that
Hood: What a great decision by our GM!
Smith: How so? Zybala can practically murder him under those stips
Hood: Yes…but Welsh can also bring in some muscle to help him defeat Zybala. It makes the most sense of any plausible scenario
Smith: I…I hadn’t thought of that
~Welsh hands the contract over to Knux. Knux walks up and shoves the contract into Zybala’s chest. Mike nearly falls through the ropes, to the floor. He manages to stay inside the ring. He motions for a Superkick! Knux quickly backs away…Welsh runs behind him. Zybala shakes his head, finding the situation comical~
Mike Zybala: Alright Welsh, I accept. I know what you’re plotting. I could easily VETO this idea. But I’m not like you. I want to give the fans a show! So…
~Zybala scribbles his name onto the contract~
Mike Zybala: It’s official…Mike Zybala against Marcus Welsh in a Street Fight at Mayhem on the Midway!
~The crowd goes wild~
Mike Zybala: And now, if you’ll excuse me…I’m going to enjoy my night off.
~Zybala drops the contract onto the mat and exits. Welsh sneaks back around from behind Knux and snares the contract. He looks it over and nods~
Smith: And it’s official!
Hood: I hope Welsh knows what he’s doing
Smith: I hope he gets what he deserves
Hood: An in ring victory? I agree!
Smith: No
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Singles Match
Vincent “The Legend” Langston (2-0) vs. Colt Caruso (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen... The next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, coming to the ring...
~"I Am Legend" echoes through the arena, followed by the build-up of the music. The claps and heavy beat are joined by lasers and flashing lights as the music blasts out.~
Belvedere: From Washington D.C.... standing 6'4" and weighing 230 lbs... Vincent 'The Legend' Langston!
~There's a strong cheer from the audience. Vincent Langston walks out on the stage, a stoic look on his face as he walks towards the ring. He jumps over the ropes, lands in the ring, and lets out a loud yell to the crowd, before turning back to his corner.~
Smith: Langston has been on a roll since he came into OCW this month. Many have him and Melinda Rhodes as favorites in the Margarita Mix.
Hood: If he can hold himself together, sure.
Smith: Word has it he went and saw a psychologist this week, but threw out the medications that they wanted him to take.
Hood: He seems like someone who should always be on happy pills. The guy always seems to be a couple of degrees away from boiling over all the time.
Smith: He's looking at you, Hood.
Hood: What? No, he couldn't... he couldn't have heard me, could he? Hi, Vincent! Love your work!
Smith: Stop waving, Hood, he's looking away again.
Hood: Good, get him some competition to keep him busy.
Belvedere: And his opponent...
~"Gold Steps" by Neck Deep plays, leading to the first appearance of the new wrestler in OCW.~
Belvedere: From New York, New York... standing 5 feet 9 inches and weighing 185 lbs... 'The Italian Stallion' Colt Caruso!
~Caruso jogs down the aisle high-fiving as many fans as possible on both sides then jogs around ring side high-fiving as many people on both sides then he jumps upon the ring apron and flings himself in with a front flip followed by a series of four headstand-front handsprings and finishes with a corner backflip.~
Smith: Nice athleticism from this newcomer, who has been in this business his whole life.
Hood: That guy is way too happy.
Smith: He's out here living the dream, Hood. What's wrong with that?
Hood: He's facing Langston. Nobody should be smiling when fighting a guy with a screw loose.
~Caruso has gone back outside the ring now, giving some more high fives to audience members. Langston is watching from his corner, fuming. Scruff, finishing his check of Langston for anything illegal, talks to him, with Langston wanting Caruso to get in there. Scruff shrugs and walks off. Langston leans over the ropes, yelling something, but Caruso doesn't appear to hear him. The Italian Stallion finishes his time with the fans and comes back into the ring, but he immediately turns away from Langston, climbing the turnbuckle to point towards the crowd. Scruff turns and tries to cool Langston down, as he's ready to begin the match. But Langston pushes Scruff out of the way, runs forward, and hops up towards Caruso. He grabs the wrestler from behind and drops him back with a belly-to-back superplex that shakes the ring!!~
Smith: OH MY GOSH!!
Hood: I told you! He shouldn't have been smiling!
Smith: An unprovoked attack from The Legend on Caruso, and the match hasn't even begun!
~Scruff stands back, out of the way, as Langston charges Caruso as he tries to stand, clotheslining him right over the top rope to the floor below. Caruso lands in a heap, stunned. Langston follows, dropping next to him and pulling Caruso to his feet. He delivers a series of rolling Germans on the hard floor outside, throwing Caruso around like a rag doll! Some fans are upset at the assault before the match, but others are cheering loudly for the brutality going on.~
Smith: This is quickly getting out of hand!
Hood: I knew there was something I liked about this guy...
~With Caruso only managing to get up to one knee, Langston rushes at him, hitting a running knee to the side of the head that knocks Caruso back down. Langston then climbs onto Caruso and starts punching away, landing repeated shots to the man's skull. He's delivering a ton of punishment. Scruff is leaning out the ropes on the other side talking to officials, not sure what he should be doing.~
Smith: We still don't have an official match yet! Why did Langston attack Caruso before the bell?
Hood: I think he felt disrespected by Caruso's attitude. This guy signed weeks ago, but he hasn't done anything in OCW yet. To show up and prance around for the fans like he's one of the favorites here in OCW, while not even acknowledging his opponent, that was disrespect in Langston's eyes.
Smith: That could be it, Hood.
Hood: Or like I said, he's a few cards short of a full deck.
Smith: You know he's not that far away currently, right?
Hood: Fuck...
~After a few more hits, Langston stands up, looking down at the battered Caruso. He shakes his head, as if clearing it, but he doesn't look any calmer. In fact, he looks like he's getting angrier by the minute. As Caruso struggles to rise up, Langston begins to slam him repeatedly into the edge of the apron, as if to break him in two. Langston then picks Caruso up over his head and throws him into the ring through the ropes and follows. Langston turns to Scruff and waits for him to do something. Scruff again talks to people outside the ring, shrugs again, and then signals for the bell!~
Hood: Alright! We ARE going to have a match!
Smith: Who the heck made that ruling??
Hood: This match was advertised, Smith. You don't want to disappoint the fans, do you?
~Caruso is crawling away, almost to the apron, as he looks to escape to the outside for some sort of recovery time. But Langston is already coming up behind him, grabbing Caruso's legs and pulling him back to the center of the ring. He lifts Caruso up, and the Italian Stallion tries some offense, throwing some forearms. Langston easily blocks them, reducing their impact, and then spins into a heel kick, nearly taking Caruso's head off! With Caruso out on the mat, Langston just looks down at him, showing zero respect for his foe.~
Smith: At this point, Langston should just end it and move on. The man could easily be pinned at this point.
Hood: Maybe, maybe not, but I don't think The Legend is through.
Smith: Why do any more damage? The man was beaten before the bell even sounded!
Hood: I think Langston's sending a message. Treat him seriously and give him a good fight, or else this is your future.
Smith: Well, for me, message received!
~To his credit, Caruso is somehow still trying to get up, clutching at Langston's ring gear. Langston stares down at him before grabbing him by the head and saying something to him. Before Caruso can react, Langston then locks him into a double-arm grip, hitting the Scars of War! Caruso isn't moving, but Langston still rolls over him into position, applying his crossface submission, No Peace! Scruff moves in, checking on the wrestler. He quickly determines that Caruso is out, and waves for the bell.~
Belvedere: Here is your winner, VINCENT 'THE LEGEND' LANGSTON!
Smith: Finally, it's over.
Hood: Someone should tell Langston that.
~Langston keeps the submission on for a little longer, with Scruff trying to get him to release it. He finally does, leaving Caruso unconscious on the mat. Langston moves over to the corner, breathing deeply, trying to control himself from doing anymore damage. He stays there, watching, as medical personnel come under the ropes to check on Caruso.~
Hood: I think we're going to be needing a stretcher.
Smith: That is one dangerous man.
Hood: Do those medics have insurance? I wouldn't risk going in there with Langston still waiting. He might still be looking for a fight.
Smith: Should I call him over here to distract him?
Hood: HELL NO!! What's wrong with you??
~The medics roll Caruso carefully to the apron, where a stretcher has been set up. Langston continues to watch from the corner, a touch of remorse possibly appearing on his face now as he sees what he's done. But Langston is soon stone-faced again, as he turns and leaves the ring, with his entrance music beginning to play. He walks up the aisle, not looking around at anything as he departs. He's leaving the damage behind him. The medics, meanwhile, get Caruso strapped to the gurney and start rolling him out.~
Smith: Will this be the last we see of Colt Caruso?
Hood: If he's smart, he won't be signing a rematch anytime soon.
Smith: He may not be walking anytime soon.
Hood: There's that too.
~We cut backstage. We see Commissioner Zybala walking down the hallway with a travel bag slung over his shoulder. He is looking down at his phone every so often as he walks, but expertly avoiding bumping into people. He reaches a door with an exit sign flashing above it. As he reaches for the push bar, he hears his name being called and he pauses to look towards the sound. Marcus Welsh is walking towards him. Zybala waits to see what he wants.~
Zybala: Yes Marcus?
Welsh: So you're really leaving tonight? No shenanigans? No last minute items I'll have to veto?
Zybala: Nope. I'm on my way to the airport to Ohio to see how things are going for the amusement park, then spend the night in a hotel, then drive home to Buffalo for the week to be with family. A little vacation if you will.
Welsh: (looking a bit relieved at this busy schedule) Okay then. Well, before you go, you did say that you were footing the bill for Meyhu Appreciation Night.
Zybala: Oh yeah! Right, right. My mistake. Hold on.
~Zybala puts his phone in his pocket and opens his travel bag. He rummages around for a moment before pulling out a pen and a check book. He scribbles some figures and his signature on a check before tearing it out of the book and hands it to Welsh.~
Zybala: There you go Marcus. Hopefully that will cover it.
~Welsh looks at the check, eyes a little wide before looking back at Zybala, who is putting the pen and checkbook back in his bag.~
Welsh: You don't get paid enough for this. Even if we count last year. How do I know this won't bounce and I'm stuck with the bill.
~Zybala sighs as he takes his phone out of his pocket. He opens up an banking icon and taps in his password. No, we can't see it you identity theft trying bastard. When his information pops up, Zybala shows a balance amount to Welsh, whose eyes get even bigger. He then starts at Zybala as the former puts away his phone.~
Welsh: Why the hell are you still doing this if you have that much???
Zybala: That's only one account Marcus, and it doesn't even cover my stocks. To answer your question though, it's simple. I love this business and I'm fond of this company and want to help it grow. Well, you have a nice night. I'll be watching on the Starz app. Have a great show.
~Zybala then opens the exit door, walks through it, and leaves the building, leaving Welsh looking a bit stunned.~
~The lights begin to flickers as Friday the 13th begins to play. The crowd focuses their attention to the entrance ramp. ~
Hood: oh no. Here we go. Parents please be advised, make your kids look away from the screen.
Smith: what are you saying? Kids should be afraid of TLS?
Hood: hes a nut job. Everyone should be afraid.
~TLS does not appear at the entrance ramp, instead water from the overhead sprinkler system starts to rain down on the crowd as TLS' voice can be heard. ~
TLS: May all who use it find in it a remedy for body and mind. And may everything that it touches or sprinkles be freed from uncleanness and any influence of the evil spirit. I am your Salvation. I am your light. Before me there is nothing. After me there will be nothing. Let my blood cleanse you of your sins. I have come to save your soul.
~The lights stop flickering and come back on as the whole crowd is in shock. ~
Hood: WHAT THE FUCK???
Smith: did you get a bloody nose? Why are you covered in blood?
Hood: you are covered in blood. Everyone in the fucking arena is covered in blood......
Smith: I'm not much for pranks...especially pranks that involve BLOOD being dropped on me
Hood: Sprayed
Smith: WHATEVER...folks, we've got some clean up to do out here before our next match...so let's watch that jazzy Mayhem on the Midway promo!
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Singles Match
Josie Barnes (16-12) vs. Talia Areano (3-3)
~We cut back from commercial to find Josie Barnes and Talia Areano across from each other in the ring.
The Ref motions for the bell.~
*DING DING DING*
~Immediately the two lockup, Josie taking a quick command and pulling Talia down for a side headlock. Talia pushes up with her legs twists out of the headlock and transitions Josie into a hammerlock. Josie goes for a back elbow but Talia lifts her for a backdrop, but Josie rolls on her shoulder and lands on her feet while Talia falls flat on her back.~
Smith: Neither woman looks great tonight
Hood: Yea, Josie’s got that “I don’t give a fuck” attitude this week
Smith: It seems so
~Talia gets to her feet and eats a hard superkick from Josie that rolls her out of the ring! Josie Barnes paces back and forth, trash talking as the referee begins a ten count!~
ONE!!!
TWO!!!!
THREE!!!
FFFOOOUURRR!!!
FFFFIIVVVEE!!
~Talia rises, waves her hands at Josie, and walks off.~
SSSIIIIXXX!!!
SSSEEVVVEEEENNN!!!
~The crowd starts booing at Talia as Josie stands in the ring, dumbfounded.~
EEEIIIGGGHHHHTTT!!!
Josie: GET BACK HERE!!!
NNNNIIINNNEEE!!
~Talia smirks, gives Josie the middle finger, and disappears through the curtains....~
TEN!!!
*DING DING DING*
Belvedere: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH BY COUNTOUT.... JOSIE BARNES!!!
~As Josie's music hits the P/A system, The Crowd boos thunderously, trash and various objects flying at the ring and towards the entrance arch in particular. Barnes shrugs her shoulders, drops, and exits the ring, casually strolling to the back amidst flying debris.~
Smith: Well that one won’t be on any highlight reels, that’s for sure
Hood: That match fucking sucked
Smith: It wasn’t good
Hood: Why ask for a match and then put out a performance like that? Both those competitors were shit, absolute shit
Smith: I can’t argue
Hood: Like what the fuck is the point? Why even compete if that’s your effort? Get the fuck out of my face with that shit
Smith: Let’s head backstage!
~We cut back to the office of General Manager Marcus Welsh, sitting at his desk. It appears that he is making a phone call. He looks nervous, as if he is expecting something to go terribly wrong. After several rings, the person he is trying to call. We all recognize the voice~
Zybala: (sounding a bit annoyed) Yes Marcus?
Welsh: Just making sure you made it to the airport safely.
Zybala: As I told you TEN MINUTES ago, I had just pulled up to the drop off terminal. I'm standing in line to get my ticket, then it's through the metal detectors, then waiting however long it takes to be boarded.
Welsh: So you are definitely, absolutely not coming back tonight???
Zybala: Dude, I'm not coming back. I'm at the airport. I want to go home. Hell, I don't even want to stop in Ohio, but I promised Jimmy I would. So stop worrying, I'm not coming back tonight. You have a Zybala free Massacre. Okay? Goodbye.
~Zybala then hangs up as Welsh leans back in his chair looking relieved.~
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Singles Match
“The Rebel” Melinda Rhodes (5-2) vs. Roach (2-3)
~When the cameras cut back to ringside, the Rebel is just removing her vest as Halestorm's "Black Vultures" finishes playing and what she sees standing across from her has not only herself but the wrestling crowd and commentary a bit concerned. Not only is Roach puffing on a marijuana joint, but he sways and stumbles slightly in his corner, giggling with his eyes half-lidded and his body completely sagged, as if every muscle in his body is as relaxed as molded jello. The referee looks at the Rebel who just sighs and shakes her head, then nods at the the man. The ref then rings the bell....~
*DING DING DING*
~Roach nearly falls on his face but recovers quickly in his attempt to rush quickly at Rhodes. Melinda side steps, ducks, and weaves his wild and heavy strikes until one of them has him falling to one knee. Visibly, The Rebel gets angry and waits for him to get up....~
Smith: Tough start for Roach
Hood: It’s hard to stay focused when you’ve been PerZagged
Smith: What on Earth does that mean?
Hood: It’s when someone becomes disillusioned after feuding with Alice
Smith: Do NOT create an Urban Dictionary page for that term, Hood
~...He rises, his whole body loose and free as he sways left and right. It took every ounce of concentration on Roach's part to steady himself. He then turns towards Mel and rears his fist back, only for the Rebel to gut check him with a toe kick, catch him in a 3/4th's necklock and drop him straight on his head in devastating fashion with THE SHOT IN THE DARK!!!!~
Smith: Out of nowhere!
Hood: Holy shit!
~The Rebel rolls to her feet, folds Roach completely up with all his weight on his neck and shoulders....~
ONE!!
TWO!!!
TTTHHHRRREEE!!!!
*DING DING DING*
Belvedere: THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH BY PINFALL.... "THE REBEL" MMMMEEELLLLIIIINNDDDAAA RRRHHHOO-
~The Rebel yanks the microphone from his mouth and brings it straight to her lips. The fans were cheering only for her as she looks upon them with a hint of hurt in her eyes.~
Rebel: This is fucking BULLSHIT! You people paid to see a legit fucking match, didn't you?! That's not what you got though, is it?
Crowd: NNNOO!!!
Rebel: Fuck no you didn't, because people like this guy down here, lying unconscious in this ring can't keep their shit together and be assed to show up sober!!
~She turns and looks directly into the camera.~
Rebel: Marcus Welsh, I love you like a brother after what you've done for me, but never again.... Never.... Again.... book me against a drugged out of his mind motherfucker again. Give me a challenge! Another match with Julliet Brooks? Maybe a dance with someone who loves talking shit about me when she's not standing in front of me, like Josie Barnes. Could always throw Bob Grenier or Chad Vargas my way even. Hell even Tony the Fucking Spider would've done me a solid and put up a fight. Dude damn sure wouldn't be too fucked up to show up on promo day at the very least.
~The Rebel paces the ring.~
Rebel: It's bad enough that I get flack for pinning Jam G during the very match where I got the Oh Shit contract handed to me, but now I'm going to be getting even more flack because the boss man threw me a drugged up fuck head as an opponent! Thanks a-fucking-lot!!!! Now not only have I been fucked out of my time, but so too have the fans and I'm sorry.
~Her lip twitches as she seethes with rage.~
Rebel: We both deserved better.... Maybe next Monday we'll get what we deserve.
~And with that, she tosses the microphone back to Belvedere and exits the ring.~
Smith: Strong words from Rhodes
Hood: She’s pissed and she has every right to be! I love Roach but man…what the fuck. First Josie and now Roach…2018 OCW, baby
Smith: It hasn’t been a great night as far as in ring action goes…but hopefully that will improve as we move into the more competitive portion of our programming
Hood: If it doesn’t, I’m making like a tree and leafing
Smith: Uhh, okay
~The Uber Man, decked out in full super hero attire, approaches a door backstage. He takes a look at it carefully~
Uber Man: This is the one... My love's dressing room. Alice, my darling, I am here to serenade you with my loving words.
~The Uber Man pulls out a piece of paper. He attempts to open the door, but it is stopped by a chain door lock. The door remains cracked open by just a few inches~
Uber Man: I'm sure you're getting ready, my love. And that's okay... You can hear my words as you prepare yourself...
~The Uber Man leans towards the crack of the door, whispering through the opening. He reads the paper.
Uber Man: O Mistress mine, where are you roaming?
~The Uber Man steps back and smiles. The door slightly closes, and we hear the chain lock being released. The door opens, and the Uber Man's smiles disappears as he looks at Matt Meyhu, who is clearly uncomfortable~
Uber Man: Mr. Meyhu?
Meyhu: Is this part of Meyhu Appreciation night?
Uber Man: I... Um... I thought...
Meyhu: Not what I was expecting.
~Meyhu walks past the Uber Man and down the hallway. Uber Man looks around and sees a staff member~
Uber Man: Is this not Alice Knight's dressing room?
Staff Member: Um. No. Hers is down the hall and to the right.
~Uber Man stomps his foot~
Uber Man: Jiminy Christmas!
~The Uber Man stomps away~
Hood: How nice of Uber to serenade Meyhu during his big evening...a little weird, but nice and perfectly acceptable behavior in 2018
Smith: I think Uber was mistaken...he thought that was Alice's dressing room
Hood: What an idiot. Doesn't he know that his 'plus one' houses out of a cat infested RV?
Smith: She's upgraded
Hood: In which way?
Smith: In EVERY way
Hood: Blah
Smith: Well folks, it's time for our next match...this is a #1 Contender's Match for the Craze Championship. Two of OCW's brightest young stars are set to compete. Andrea Hernandez and Mike Harrison both look destined for great things. Let's head down to ringside and find out who will challenge for the OCW Craze Championship at Mayhem on the Midway!
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
What is love? 'Tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies not plenty;
Then, come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
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OCW Craze #1 Contenders Match
Andrea Hernandez (1-0) vs. Mike Harrison (1-0)
~The fans are throwing beach balls all throughout the arena. OCW security is blowing them up…they are not in the business of confiscating them. This seems like some type of Zybala ruling. We can’t be sure. Regardless…they continue to bounce them around all happily until Belvedere clears his voice. At once all the beach balls vanish and the fans turn their attention toward the ring~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for the OCW Craze #1 Contenders Match! This match is scheduled for one fall. The winner of this match will go on to compete for the OCW Craze Championship at Mayhem on the Midway! Introducing first!
~ 'Psycho' by Muse can be heard through the sound system and Harrison emerges from behind the black curtain. Upon seeing Harrison the crowd springs into life with cheers that echo around the arena. He stops and stretches his arms out wide taking it all in with a smile on his face. A few moments pass and Harrison makes his way down the ramp to the ring and taps the hands of fans along the way. When he reaches the ring he stops and stares intently at the ring, a moment later he slides under the bottom rope and runs towards the corner of the ring and springs up onto the top turnbuckle. He poses for the crowd as the drums midway through the song begin to get into motion and Harrison closes his eyes. After a moment he drops down from the top turnbuckle and readies himself for combat~
Belvedere: From Blackpool, England…standing six feet tall and weighing in at 185lbs…Mike Harrison!!!
~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She she acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for what comes next~
Belvedere: And his opponent…from Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…Andrea Hernandez!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~
Smith: And here we go…two of OCW’s most talented newcomers facing off
Hood: Andrea’s kinda hot, isn’t she
Smith: CAN WE MOVE BEYOND THE HOTNESS OF FEMALE WRESTLERS
Hood: Sorry…just saying, man
~Harrison, the crafty vet, eyes the younger, more nimble, fairer sexed Andrea Hernandez. She’s eager and bouncy. Harrison smiles, perhaps remembering the days when he was that excited for a championship opportunity. He calmly approaches Andrea. She’s too pumped up…she rushes in and they lock up! Her momentum takes Mike back, near the corner…but he quickly reverses and shoves Andrea into the corner. He breaks the lock up and looks at her, with a half smile. Andrea, breathing heavily, steps out of the corner and circles Harrison~
Smith: Andrea is very keyed up for this match.
Hood: Just another day at the office for Mike Harrison
Smith: Indeed
~Mike lunges at Andrea…she creates a stance ready for another lock up. Mike fakes her out and hooks her waist from behind. He lifts her up and throws her down, front first. He quickly transitions to the mat with a side headlock. Andrea wiggles and writhes…she tries to get out, but can’t~
Smith: Nice maneuver by Harrison…he faked Andrea out
Hood: So she’s a dumb blonde?
Smith: First off…I’m not sure she classifies as a blonde. Second…she’s far from dumb
Hood: Relax, I was just asking
~Andrea manages to grab a handful of Harrison’s hair. She yanks back. Harrison, full of discomfort, gets to his feet. Andrea does as well, she maintains a grip of Mike’s hair. He shoots her off, into the ropes…she holds onto his hair, spins around and drops him with a Facebuster!!! She covers him after the unexpected move. Scruff slides in~
1!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out after only one…a nice idea by Andrea…but too early
Hood: Damn, she really wants this win
Smith: Indeed
~Mike is back to his feet. He rushes at Andrea…she tosses him across the ring with an armdrag. He’s back to his feet. She gives him another arm drag. He gets to his feet a third time and suffers a third arm drag. He finally backs up into a corner, breathing heavily. Andrea, center of the ring, stares him down. The crowd cheers…a few “ANDREA” chants sound out~
Smith: There’s that quickness we saw out of Andrea in her debut
Hood: That’s her advantage in this one
Smith: I’d concur
~Harrison rotates his shoulders and circles Andrea, much like she did a moment before. Hernandez remains poised, ready for an attack. Harrison throws a fake punch…Andrea reacts…he dives for her legs, snaring them and taking her to the mat. He pops back to his feet with her legs under his arms. Andrea twists and turns, trying to break free but can’t. Harrison starts to spin her around the ring. He rotates until Andrea begins to relent…going almost limp. He then stops, tosses her over his head and back to the mat with an Alabama Slam!! She hits HARD! The crowd winces. Harrison falls to one knee, dizzy from the spin~
Smith: Great combination by Harrison…but those spins will give both competitors a case of vertigo
Hood: Man he slammed the fuck out of her
Smith: Yes, she did hit with tremendous impact
Hood: THE FUCK OUT OF HER
Smith: We get it
~Harrison regains his balance and goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Kickout by Andrea!
Hood: He waited too long…guy needs to learn how to not get dizzy
Smith: Not sure a person can acquire that skill, Hood
~Hernandez sits up. Harrison is already on his feet. Hernandez gets to both knees. Harrison throws a few stiff kicks into her upper chest. He backs into the ropes, ricochets off and throws a soccer style kick…but Andrea catches his leg! She pops to her feet and takes him down with a Dragon Screw leg whip! Mike falls to the mat, clutching his knee~
Smith: Great move by Andrea…that leg is very important for Mike
Hood: Ya think? Ya think one of a man’s two legs is important in an athletic event?
Smith: You know what I mean
Hood: Yes, I do. If he only had one leg he would suck
~Andrea steps through the ropes, onto the apron. Mike gets to his feet, gingerly. Andrea jumps up, springboards off the top ropes, flies toward Mike, grabs his head and takes him down with a Tornado DDT!! The crowd pops!! Andrea kips up! She’s got the momentum, the advantage, and the crowd~
Smith: She’s in full control now!
Hood: It’s a good thing Mike still has both legs…otherwise he’d be fucked, right Smith?
Smith: Shaddup
~Hernandez steps back through the ropes, onto the apron. She motions out toward the crowd…they are ready! She hops onto the top rope and springboards off. Harrison pops to his feet! Andrea comes down, looking for her finisher, the somersault springboard senton…but Mike catches her, dead lifts her and drops her with a German Suplex!!! He bridges into a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: What a counter!
Hood: A true veteran…guy probably studied up on her move set
Smith: Indeed
~Harrison returns to his feet. He heads into his corner, motioning toward the crowd. They’ve been behind Andrea for most of the match…but a good portion start to get behind Mike. He’s signaling that he’s about to hit Andrea with his finisher, The Sunshine Superkick~
Smith: The Sunshine Superkick! If he hits this, it’s over!
Hood: Goodnight, sweetheart
~Andrea gets to her feet. Harrison throws The Sunshine Superkick. Andrea dodges it and takes Mike down with Slingblade!!! Both competitors are on the mat, the crowd rises to their feet~
Smith: What an action packed match thus far…I don’t know who’s going to win this one!
Hood: Damn…I thought he had her
Smith: We all did!
~Both competitors reach their feet at the same time. Andrea seizes the moment, she goes after Mike with some stiff forearm shots to the head. Mike staggers back, against the ropes. Andrea lifts a knee, doubling Mike over. She hooks his head and signals toward the ropes~
Smith: We could see another Springboard Tornado DDT…albeit a different variation than the previous one
Hood: Mike’s in trouble!
~Andrea spins Mike around and kicks her legs up to springboard off the ropes. Mike, though, tosses her over his head! She performs a full flip, landing on her feet. She’s stunned, though. Mike turns to his side…he sees her on her feet and he delivers The Sunshine Superkick!!! His foot smacks Andrea right in the face!!! Andrea’s body slams into the mat. Mike makes the cover…Scruff counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender to the OCW Craze Championship….MIKE HARRISON!!!!!
Smith: Harrison did it! He’s going to compete at Mayhem on the Midway for the Craze Title!
Hood: And he still has both legs!
Smith: Stop. Great performance by Andrea…she was so close to winning this one
Hood: Yea, chick’s got talent. I’ll give her that
Smith: A bright future for both of these competitors
~We cut backstage to the office of GM Marcus Welsh. He’s pacing around his room, deep in though. Knux, as always, shadows the GM~
Marcus Welsh: I feel like I should be doing more, you know? With Zybala gone…truly gone…at least, I think truly gone…I’ve once again been blessed with full autonomy. I should be doing more…more…
~Welsh paces past Knux, continuing to think~
Marcus Welsh: But what if he ISN’T gone? I mean he told me he was gone. It sounded like he was gone. But what if he isn’t gone? What if he, is, in fact…here? What if he’s tormenting me?
~Welsh stops the pacing. He looks at the floor with his hands on his hips~
Marcus Welsh: That voice mail. My missing phone. CONFESS. And now this ‘night off’. Yea, something’s up. You’re right, Knux. Something is up. I think we’d better put an end to this before Zybala unleashes his master plan. If something is too good to be true, it usually is.
~A very paranoid Welsh looks up at Knux and pats him on the shoulder~
Smith: Mike Zybala is renting out space in the head of Marcus Welsh
Hood: I hope Welsh got a first and last month’s deposit. Knowing Zybala there will be cat hair everywhere once he moves out
Smith: Mr. Welsh simply cannot get through a show without worrying about Zybala – even tonight’s show where Zybala has made it abundantly clear that he has left for the evening
Hood: I’m with Welsh…Zybala may come off as stupid but he is far from an idiot. He’s got something up his sleeve. I’d trust my instincts, if I were Welsh.
Smith: Well, Welsh did mention stopping whatever Zybala has planned…so I guess we’ll see what that means later on this evening. In the meantime…it’s Margarita Mix action! We’ve got Zolton making his OCW debut as he teams with one of the top rising stars in OCW, Axel Veiga. They will take on…
Hood: Two losers
Smith: JAM G and The Uber Man! Let’s head down to ringside for the action!
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Margarita Mix – Round 1
Axel Veiga (1-0) & Zolton (0-0) vs. JAM G (0-1) & The Uber Man (1-1)
~The crowd is still buzzing from that Craze #1 Contenders match. They are ready for MORE. That was merely an appetizer. They want something else…more in ring action! The lights suddenly turn into that Margarita Mix color…the arena has the Mix vibe! The crowd begins to chant “MIX!” over and over until Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a first round match in the 2018 Margarita Mix Tournament! The winning team will advance into the semi-finals to face Melinda Rhodes and Vincent Langston. This is a tag team contest scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~ No one knows by Queens of The Stone Age begins to play. The crowd gives a very friendly, ‘don’t want to hurt this guy’s feelings’ ovation for JAM G! JAM hops around on stage, excited to be back in OCW! He waves at fans, almost trips down the ramp and reaches the ring. He struggles to climb onto the apron before sloppily rolling through the ropes, into the ring~
Belvedere: From Key West, Florida…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 155lbs…Just Another Masked Guy!!!
~”Hero” by Nickelback begins to play. The crowd truly pops when they hear the theme song of OCW’s super hero, The Uber Man!! Uber emerges from behind the curtain with a green mask and cape! He rushes down the ramp and slides into the ring. He pops to his feet and hugs JAM G! The two look very happy to be there and teaming with one another~
Smith: Outsiders being represented in force here tonight
Hood: I never thought I’d see the day where the fucking Uber driver is the most talented team member
Smith: Don’t sell JAM G short…he’s got tremendous heart and spunk!
Hood: Gross
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~ As the opening of "Rise" hits the speakers, the arena goes dark with fog filling the entrance area. Upon the entrance screen a video montage begins to roll of Zolton standing atop a mountain and behind him is highlights of what he has done in a wrestling ring. As the lyrics begin to be heard, Zotlon himself steps out onto the stage area among the smoke. The crowd begins to boo loudly. Zolton relishes in the dissatisfaction of the crowd with an arrogant grin. His long leather trench coat gleams off the now bright spot light shining down upon him.
He now begins to make his way down the ramp toward the ring. Refusing to acknowledge the crowd as he passes them. Reaching the ring he steps up the ring steps slowly, his arrogant smile plastered all over his face. He then jumps to the top turnbuckle of the corner of the ring. He calls it his throne as the arena lights return to normal and the song fades to silence. Zolton ignores the crowd as he lets his trench coat slide down off his shoulders to the floor~
Belvedere: First, from Yakima, Washington…standing 6’7 and weighing in at 265lbs…Zolton!!!
~ Vega Core by Mick Gordon plays as Axel Veiga walks down the ramp. His expression reads as if he's about to witness something joyous while his body motions are quite fluid and loose. He quickly slides into the ring to be introduced by Belvedere~
Belvedere: And his tag team partner, Hailing from Newcastle, England. Now residing in Mission Viejo, California. He weighs 220 pounds. AXXEEEEEEEL... VEEEEEEIIIGAAAAA!
~As his name is spoken, an extended pinky and thumb cut the throat of Axel Veiga as he rises with a sick grimace on his face before sliding into the corner on his knee and turning quickly~
Smith: Not sure you could have a more disparate match up. Veiga and Zolton mean business. They are here to inflict pain en route to winning the Mix. JAM G and Uber, on the other hand
Hood: A functioning retards who should not be allowed outside of their parent’s house, let alone inside a wrestling ring
Smith: Rude and uncalled for!
Hood: Yet stingingly accurate
~The bell rings. Belvedere exits. Zolton steps through the ropes, giving way to Axel. Veiga remains in the ring, eager to find out who he will be squaring off against. Uber and JAM G arm wrestle for the right to begin. Scruff kneels, lending the top of his head for elbow support. They begin. Neither man has gained an advantage. Nobody is winning. The lack of bicep strength is astonishing. They grunt and attempt to manipulate their weight in a profitable direction. Yet, no ground is gained nor lost. Veiga shakes his head. He’s not enjoying the tomfoolery~
Smith: I’m all for competition but this arm wrestling contest is, well, it’s kinda sad
Hood: Have either one of these guys lifted anything heavier than a stick of beef jerky?
Smith: That’s an excellent question
~JAM G reaches over and tickles Uber under the arm. This causes Uber to flinch, allowing JAM G to sloppily thrust his arm all the way forward – winning the arm wrestling contest! Uber leaps to his feet and shouts ‘villainy!’ JAM G apologizes. Uber, being a true hero, understands the power in acceptance. So he accepts JAM G’s apology. The crowd goes ‘aww’. Uber steps through the ropes, an accepting man. JAM G remains in the ring, a stronger man. Scruff is ready to ref the match, a homeless man. Veiga grabs JAM G by the head, lifts him up and spikes in him into the grown, an angry man. Zolton remains on the apron, watching…a tall man~
Smith: A short lived celebration for JAM G
Hood: Just Another Masked Guy is about to experience Just Another Lost Match
Smith: I’d say the chances are better than fifty percent
Hood: Shit…I’d say the chances are better than a hundred percent!
~JAM G is face first on the canvas. He’s probably ready to be pinned. Veiga stands over him, staring down at the motionless body of Just Another Masked Guy. The fans start to boo. Veiga responds by kicking at JAM G’s body with curiosity~
Smith: The dream is over, it appears. These two underdogs weren’t even able to get out of the gate before reality struck
Hood: Yea, well, look at who they are facing. Two bad mother fuckers who take this shit very seriously. They would have been better off facing ANYONE else
Smith: Indeed
~Uber hops off the apron. Veiga shakes his head in disgust at his competition. He looks out at the crowd who continues to boo, astonished that they would have anything other than disdain for JAM G. This allows Uber and opportunity to sneak to the side nearest JAM G and grab his arm. He pulls and pulls as hard as he can and manages to BARELY get JAM G onto the apron. Veiga looks down, confused at first…then annoyed when he sees JAM G on the apron with Uber standing close by. Veiga backs up…sprints forward and performs a slide, kicking JAM G’s body off the apron and into Uber! JAM G falls on top of Uber on the outside~
Smith: Uber doing his best to save his partner but I’m not sure how much good it’s going to do
Hood: Yea these fuckers are going to have to get creative if they want to make this match last much longer
Smith: Well, if there’s one thing Uber has…it’s creativity!
Hood: I guess
~Veiga steps through the ropes and hops onto the floor. He snares JAM G by the mask, pulling him to his feet. JAM G is wobbly…he’d probably fall over if it weren’t for Veiga keeping him on his feet. Uber struggles to his feet and tries to get Veiga away from JAM G. Veiga, with one arm, throws Uber at the ring…Uber flies under the ring, crashing recklessly. Veiga shoves JAM G into the barricade…JAM G hits hard…his arms are draped over the top of the barricade, preventing him from falling to the floor~
Smith: You have to admire the heart of Uber, but…
Hood: His muscles and athleticism leave a lot to be desired
Smith: That’s putting it rather bluntly
Hood: It’s the fucking truth
~Veiga unleashes a vicious knife edged chop into the skinny, bony chest of JAM G. The fans at ringside wince and perhaps say some internal prayers for Just Another Masked Guy. Veiga reaches back, loading up for another chop. Uber Man emerges from underneath the ring with a Kendo Stick! He swings and SMACKS Veiga in the back with a kendo stick. Scruff yells ‘HEY!’ and extends his arms as if to say “I’m right here, idiot!” Uber ignores Scruff. Axel turns around, seething. He’s more pissed off than hurt. Uber’s eyes go from ‘take that’ to ‘oh shit’. Scruff sees Axel and decides to not call for the bell. Axel steps toward Uber which causes Uber to take off, running around the ring~
Smith: Uber should have probably hit Axel with something stronger
Hood: This should be Uber’s new trademark move…run around the ring
Smith: He is decent at evading his opponent…temporarily, anyway
Hood: So, in other words, he’s fucked
~Veiga starts to chase after Uber, but stops. There’s no point. He grabs JAM G and tosses him into the ring, under the bottom rope. He hops onto the apron. Uber continues running…he comes full circle. He stops and sees Axel on the apron. He swats at Veiga’s legs with the kendo stick. Veiga moves his legs, avoiding impact. Veiga lifts his leg and keeps it elevated while Uber continues to swipe. He brings his foot down and stomps on the kendo stick, keeping it in place. Uber tries to yank it away, but isn’t strong enough~
Smith: Looks like the kendo stick is officially out of commission
Hood: I wonder if Uber could swing a bat
Smith: I’m sure he could
Hood: Yea, a whiffle ball bat, probably
~Veiga bends over and picks the kendo stick up, ripping it from Uber’s grasp. He looks down at Uber, contemplating how to punish him. JAM G is stirring in the ring – he’s not dead, something Buffett’s lawyers are probably most thrilled about. He crawls toward Veiga, who is distracted. He shoves Axel’s left leg off the apron, causing Axel to lose his balance, fall off the apron and land roughly on the outside! The crowd goes wild. Uber looks into the ring as if to say “YOU DID IT”…yet, they’ve accomplished nothing, really~
Smith: JAM G is fighting back! He won’t be bullied
Hood: Ya know, people always tell the scrawny nerd to fight back. You know why the scrawny nerd never reports back with info?
Smith: Why?
Hood: Oh don’t act like you don’t know…you were SO the scrawny nerd
Smith: Just answer the question!
Hood: Because they either realize they are going to get their ass kicked if they do, so they don’t. OR they actually take the advice and get murdered via fists to the face.
Smith: …
Hood: Brings back some rough memories, eh?
Smith: Moving along
~Uber tries to get Axel up. He asks JAM G to help him. JAM G slides out of the ring, together they try to pull Veiga to his feet and toss him into the ring. After a few seconds of them trying…Veiga regains his senses. He’s on his feet…he throws his arms to the side, sending both Uber and JAM G flying. Uber and JAM G return to their feet quickly…they move away from Veiga who remains standing near the apron. Axel, beyond frustrated, slides into the ring. He remains on his knees, eyeing both Uber and JAM G who meet on the outside, near their corner~
Smith: And we’ve hit a complete standstill
Hood: Can we just get this shit over with? These guys suck!
Smith: As long as they are active within this match…it shall go on!
Hood: We haven’t even seen Zolton yet. I mean like what the fuck
~Veiga returns to his feet and he tags in Zolton! The crowd pops, eager to see Zolton for the first time. Uber and JAM G continue to consult. Scruff has yet to start counting. Veiga extends his arms in frustration. He’s wondering what the hell Scruff is doing. So, he takes matters into his own hands. He sprints forward and dives through the ropes, landing on both JAM G and Uber! The impact sends them into the barricade! Axel manages to land on his feet, completely unharmed. He grabs JAM G by the mask and tosses him into the ring~
Smith: They let their guard down and Veiga made them pay!
Hood: And now JAM G is alone, in the ring with Zolton
Smith: I have yet to see what Zolton can do…but I’m willing to wager he’s going to give JAM G trouble
Hood: Some trouble? He’s going to beat JAM G so bad all masked wrestlers will ditch the mask out of embarrassment
~JAM G rolls over and see the imposing Zolton standing over him. He freezes with fear. Zolton grabs JAM G and yanks him to his feet. He drops him right back to the mat with a Short Arm Clothesline! A collective ‘ooohhh!’ from the crowd sounds out in correspondence with the impact. Zolton remains over JAM G. Meanwhile, on the outside, Veiga is laying some vicious boots into the body of Uber. He pauses and sees Zolton standing over JAM G~
Smith: And what are they conjuring?
Hood: I don’t know. But that Zolton packs a mean clothesline
Smith: He’s one of the larger men on the roster. A true powerhouse
~Veiga picks Uber up and drops him with Zephyr on the outside!! Zolton nods…he grabs JAM G, hoists him into the crucifix position, tosses him up and down into a sitout powerbomb, holding on for the pin. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…the team of AXEL VEIGA AND ZOLTON!!!!!
Smith: Dominating performance by Veiga and Zolton. They will now move into the semi-finals to face the team of Melinda Rhodes and Vincent Langston
Hood: That match will rock hundreds of faces off
Smith: Well let’s hope not…for the faces of our fans
Hood: Meh, I’ve seen our fans…they could use some facial reconstruction
Smith: Let's take a look at the updated brackets!
Smith: Axel Veiga and Zolton will face Vincent Langston and Melinda Rhodes in a match that will...well...it will be a contender for Match of the Month
Hood: Zolton is a badass. Veiga is a badass. Rhodes is a badass. Langston is a badass. By jove, I think we might have a bad ass match!
Smith: Indeed! And speaking of...the return of Scott Syren is nexT!
Hood: I've got lotion and kleenex ready!
Smith: Gross
Hood: Give me some space, it's been awhile
Smith: Let's head to ringside!
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Margarita Mix – Round 1
Bob Grenier (14-11) & The Lost Soul (4-1) vs. Curt Canon (11-4) & Scott Syren (2-0)
~SWEET CAROLINE is playing throughout the arena. The fans are singing along, enjoying the atmosphere. The super drunk fans are really getting into the BA! BA! BA! portion of the song. It finally reaches its end. The crowd goes wild. Belvedere clears his throat. The fans start hopping around with excitement~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our second Margarita Mix match of the evening! This is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! The winning team will go on to face Amelia Emery and Slappy McGoo in the semi-finals. Introducing first…
~The Friday the 13th theme begins to play. It’s ominous and kreeeeepy (WITH A K). It’s a pretty massive departure from the sweet, sweet, SWEET Caroline played moments earlier. TLS emerges, face paint and all. The fans boo. They are obviously Tony the Spider supporters. TLS is undisturbed. He makes his way down the ramp, to the ring. He smoothly climbs into the ring, ready for his in-ring return~
Belvedere: From Parts Unknown, standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Ascension Champion…please welcome back…THE LOST SOUL!!!
~”Where the Hood at” by DMX hits. The fans pop as they see Bob Grenier emerges from behind the curtain. He hurries down the ramp and slides into the ring. He eyes TLS who keeps a steady gaze on Grenier. The two seem to share a silent agreement. Bob looks toward the crowd, holding his fist in the air~
Belvedere: And his tag team partner, from Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…he is a former OCW Champion and a current OCW Hall of Famer…please welcome…Bob Grenier!!!
Smith: Very interesting combination…Bob Grenier and The Lost Soul
Hood: Yea…I’d say this team got a hell of a lot more dangerous when TLS took Tony the Spider’s place
Smith: Indeed…we haven’t seen TLS compete in quite some time…but whenever he does, he’s usually successful
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~The opening beats of Figure 8 by Trust Company hits. 8 seconds into the song you see Curt Canon slide out from the entrance way on to the ramp. He stands there with a confident look on his face and for a few seconds before taking both hands and pointing to himself. In the same motion he leans a bit back and throws his hands out to his side. He then slowly starts to make his way to the ring looking at the crowd and rubbing his wrist on the way down. He gets to the ring and walks up the steps….climbs into the ring heads to the center repeats the pose he did at the top of the ramp as blue pyro shoots out of all 4 turnbuckles~
Belvedere: From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 155lbs…he is a former OCW Champion and a current OCW Hall of Famer…please welcome…Curt Canon!!!!
~The lights suddenly dim. Canon hops off the turnbuckles. He looks over at TLS and Grenier and laughs saying “you guys are so fucked.” The crowd goes wild! The fans begin to chant “SYREN!” over and over. It’s a pretty wicked atmosphere~
Smith: Here it is! The return we’ve all been waiting for!
Hood: The man with four heads on OCW’s Mount Rushmore!
Belvedere: And, his tag team partner…
~The crowd goes wild! A creepy, atmospheric bagpipe and tribal drum arrangement fill the arena. The crowd goes silent. They all turn and watch the top of the entrance ramp. A spotlight shoots down upon the entrance ramp revealing a tombstone. The crowd is confused~
Smith: What is going on?
Hood: I knew it was too good to be true!
~All the lights to out, save for the spotlight shining brightly upon the tombstone. We zoom in and see Scott Syren’s name and penis size engraved. Several women are heard gasping with delight when they read the latter part of the aforementioned engraving~
Smith: Not sure that information was one hundred percent necessary
Hood: Hey…will you let the man rest in peace? Fuckin’ hell
~The bagpipes and drum arrangement end. The lights suddenly come back on to reveal SCOTT SYREN in the center of the ring. Belvedere exits in a hurry. The crowd is going wild! “SYREN! SYREN!” chants throughout the arena! Grenier staggers back. Canon jumps up and down with glee. TLS remains stoic. The bell sounds~
Smith: He lives!
Hood: Back from the dead like the annual OCW resurgence!
Smith: Indeed!
~TLS remains in the ring while Grenier takes a spot on the apron. Syren stares at TLS, jiggling his muscular man tits. Canon pats Syren on his ridiculously swollen neck muscles. Syren turns and looks down at Curt. Curt begs and pleads to start the match. Syren sighs and takes a spot on the apron. It will be Canon and TLS beginning things~
Smith: Syren is doing this for Canon, I believe.
Hood: I think at some point Syren probably adopted Canon.
Smith: Was that before or after Curt was mowing his lawn?
Hood: Definitely after
~Canon approaches TLS for a handshake. TLS isn’t in the mood for a shaking of hands. So, Canon simply says “okay” and pulls his hand back, wiping it off on his pants, for some reason. TLS lunges at Canon, attempting to seize and opportunity. Canon’s quickness comes in handy as he’s able to react in time to engage TLS in a lock up. The crowd pops because, well, that’s what crowds do. TLS uses his size advantage to bully Canon into a neutral corner~
Smith: Nice start here to open the match. Canon and TLS are two OCW originals, Hood
Hood: After all these years you’d think the face paint would have worn off. Or, at least peeled, a little
Smith: I think he reapplies it every day
Hood: Man, I don’t know. I think that’s just his face
~Once backed into the corner, Scruff asks for a break. They slowly disengage. Canon eyes TLS, anxiously. TLS looks like he might slug Canon. However, he does the honorable thing and puts his hands in the air, about to back away. Canon responds by lifting a knee into the face of TLS and sliding between The Lost Soul’s legs, popping to his feet behind the stunned former Ascension Champion. TLS shakes his head and turns around, holding his chin. It’s pretty obvious he’s pissed~
Smith: The quickness of Curt Canon! You have to wonder how much ring rust will be on TLS in this match tonight
Hood: Or how much actual rust will be on Scott Syren
Smith: He looks rust free to me
Hood: On the portions of his skin which are visible he does, sure
~TLS charges at Canon…Canon takes him down with a drop toe hold. He quickly transitions into a side head lock, on the mat. TLS is stuck. He kicks his feet in frustrating and reaches up, trying to grab Canon by the hair. Curt tilts his head out of reach. TLS slaps the mat with his hands and forces his way to a standing position, once again taking advantage of his size advantage. He shoots Canon off, into the ropes, Canon bounces off and runs into a shoulder from TLS. Canon drops to the mat. TLS thinks about hitting the ropes but, instead, he stomps into the gut of Canon!! Curt curls inward, holding his midsection in pain. TLS leaps into the air and comes down with an elbow into the chest of Canon!! This flattens Canon out~
Smith: And TLS has control…he showed the veteran prowess we’ve all come to associate with him
Hood: Yep, no fucking sense in running around with Canon when you’re, like, twice his size
Smith: Indeed
~TLS returns to his feet and places his boot in the throat of Canon. Canon reaches and grabs the boot of TLS, but he’s unable to move it. He coughs and chokes. Scruff administers a count. Before he can reach five, TLS bends over and snares Canon by the hair. He yanks Canon to his feet and promptly drills him in the stomach with a knee. He hooks Canon around the waist, lifts him up and slams him emphatically into the canvas with a Gut Wrench Suplex. The fans begin to boo. TLS doesn’t care. He walks over and tags in Bob Grenier~
Smith: Well, round one of this fight goes to TLS
Hood: We’re scoring this on rounds?
Smith: Well, I mean, not literally
Hood: If so…how could you give that round to TLS and Grenier? Syren’s appearance ALONE secured the first round, if you ask me
~Grenier enters the ring. TLS picks Canon up and hooks his arms, presenting a vulnerable Canon to Grenier. Bob doesn’t hesitate or show compassion. He delivers a few straight right hands into the forehead of Curt. TLS releases Canon. Canon’s body falls limply into the arms of Grenier. Grenier hooks his arms around Canon, spins around and drops him with a Belly to Belly Suplex! Canon is out, on the mat, motionless. Grenier returns to his feet. The crowd starts to get restless, they chant for Canon~
Smith: These fans would be awfully disappointed if Syren never stepped inside the ring
Hood: Fuck the fans…I’d be downright suicidal!
Smith: Oh come on, let’s not get dramatic
Hood: Dude, I’ve been putting up with Alice Knight’s bullshit for three years. FINALLY Syren shows back up and gets me all excited about OCW again. Do not…DO NOT FUCKING SCREW WITH ME
~Grenier snares Canon by the hair. He pulls Curt to his feet and delivers a Knife Edged Chop into Curt’s exposed chest. Canon bends over, grabbing his chest in pain. Grenier promptly hoists Curt onto his shoulders. He stations his body…gets into position and tosses Canon for a Death Valley Driver. Canon, though, lands on his feet! Grenier, surprised, turns to face Canon and EATS a Superkick!!~
Smith: Superkick by Canon! Great move!
Hood: Alright…now…tag Syren! TAG SYREN
Smith: Calm down, Hood
~Grenier staggers back from the kick. Canon falls to one knee. The fans IMPLORE him to make the tag. Grenier nearly falls over, but manages to hit the ropes. Canon gets to his feet. Grenier bounces off the ropes, lunges forward and he CLUBS Canon in the back of the head with a lariat!! Canon falls face first onto the mat. Grenier drops to one knee, still dazed from the kick. The fans boo~
Smith: The ropes kept Grenier on his feet which enabled him to prevent Canon from making a tag
Hood: FUCKING ROPES
Smith: Oh, so now you hate the ropes
Hood: Yes…they fucking suck
~Grenier stands and sees Syren in his line of sight. He walks over to Syren, remembering their epic encounter from Clash at the Coast. Grenier talks trash to the OCW legend. Syren is motionless. He fails to emote. He just looks at Grenier. Bob continues talking crap. Syren finally reaches out and grabs Grenier by the throat! The fans go crazy! Grenier reaches up, snaring Syren by the arm…but his arm is full of muscles and steroids, making it immovable. Grenier’s legs kick around. He gasps for air…he motions for Scruff. Scruff hurries over and begins to administer a five count~
Smith: Scott Syren can still apply a vicious choke, I’ll give him that
Hood: Best choke hold in wrestling!
Smith: Effective, for sure
~Scruff reaches five. He looks up at Syren, who maintains his grip. Scruff is about to call for the bell. Syren finally lets go. Grenier staggers back, clutching his throat, gasping for air. Scruff says “Thanks, Syren!” Syren doesn’t respond. Grenier turns around, his face still red from the oxygen deprivation. Canon is on his knees. He hops to his feet, seeing Grenier in rough shape. He throws a discus forearm, sending Grenier staggering backward, near Syren. Canon rushes forward, leaping in the air. Grenier catches Canon and is about to drop him with a flapjack…he then realizes this would lead to a Scott Syren tag…so he, instead, holds onto Canon and drills him in the center of the ring with a Spinebuster!! The crowd is immediately crestfallen. Grenier rolls over, on his back, choking on saliva while continuing to suck wind. Canon is also down, grimacing~
Smith: Dang it! Every time Canon gets some momentum he’s stymied. He just can’t get going
Hood: This is the ultimate cock tease. If this moves into blue ball territory I am going to relieve myself
Smith: Please, don’t do that
Hood: Well then a tag had better happen!
~Grenier sits up. He slowly makes his way to his feet. Canon kips up out of nowhere, reaching his feet at the same time as Grenier. Canon turns toward his corner. Grenier snares Canon by the hair on the back of his head. Canon throws a Mule Kick! He spins around and immediately follows the mule kick up with an enziguri!!! Grenier falls backwards, into his corner. TLS reaches in and tags Grenier on the back. Canon leaps forward and tags in Scott Syren!! The arena erupts!! TLS stops in the center of the ring, watching Syren step into the ring~
Smith: And he’s in!
Hood: Sweeeet REEEELEEEASSSEE
Smith: Just scoot down there, please…get away from me
Hood: Ah, feels so good!
~TLS, upon assessing the situation, decides to approach Syren head on. They step to one another in the center of the ring. The crowd is on their feet. Syren looks down at TLS…TLS looks up at Syren~
Smith: Two legendary veterans in the squared circle. I’m not sure we’ve ever seen these two face one another in OCW
Hood: Probably because TLS knows Syren will punch the paint right off his face
Smith: I wouldn’t say that!
~TLS takes a step back and the two lock up! Syren throws TLS backward, into a neutral corner. TLS looks around, a bit surprised by Syren’s roid enabled power. He heads back toward Syren and they lock up again. Once more Syren tosses TLS into the neutral corner. TLS lands harder than the first time. He shakes it off and circles Syren, re-evaluating the situation~
Smith: He cannot match strength with Scott Syren. TLS has got to use his brain
Hood: You calling Syren stupid?
Smith: I would never!
~TLS goes for another lock up, but, instead, dips underneath Syren’s reach and hooks him around the waist, from behind. He tries to maneuver Syren’s body, but can’t. Syren is too heavy and too strong. Both men are stuck in this position for a minute as TLS tries to figure out what he’s going to do…or what he can do without getting smashed. Syren reaches around, looking for a headlock. This speeds TLS’ decision making. He releases the hold and runs into the ropes. He bounces off and runs into Syren. The impact sends TLS crashing into the mat. He looks up with concern, confusion…he has no idea how to combat the force known as Scott Syren~
Smith: It seems that, at the very least, Syren has maintained his muscles
Hood: Well that should have been pretty fucking obvious when he appeared in the ring
Smith: Yea, good point
~Syren reaches down, grabbing TLS by the throat with both hands. TLS can’t get away. Syren lifts TLS off the mat, into the air, choking him. Scruff starts to count. TLS reaches down and rakes the eyes of Syren! This as an effect! Syren drops TLS and staggers back! TLS lands on his feet, he doubles over and coughs. He straightens up and charges at Syren, who is leaning against the ropes, with a lariat…Syren blocks the lariat and shoves TLS backward! TLS falls onto his back, rolls over his head, coming to rest on his ass. He, again, looks up at Syren with concern. The OCW legend storms toward TLS~
Smith: This just doesn’t look good for The Lost Soul. He’s talented but…Syren is Syren
Hood: I think Syren has lost MAYBE 3 or 4 times in TWENTY years around this place so, yea, beating him is next to impossible
Smith: And I don’t think Syren has suffered a ‘legitimate’ defeat since 2001…2002, maybe?
Hood: Sounds about right
~TLS struggles to his feet, in a hurry. Syren throws a punch down at The Lost Soul’s head. TLS catches Syren’s fist! Syren tries to force his fist down into The Lost Soul’s face, but TLS digs in, fighting with all his might. Syren has a look of shock, finding the strength of TLS to be formidable~
Smith: Look at TLS standing up to Syren!
Hood: Syren obviously has the flu
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood
Hood: You think it’s worse? Could it be the AIDS?
Smith: I think we’re just seeing TLS standing up to and competing with the legendary Scott Syren!
~TLS shoves Syren’s hand away! The crowd is stunned. TLS unleashes rights and lefts into Syren’s head! The legend is staggering…he’s faltering…his back is eventually against the ropes. TLS is on fire! The crowd begins to chant for TLS. Canon is on the apron, looking on, stunned. TLS lifts a knee into Syren’s gut!! Syren doubles over. TLS hooks him for a DDT…flips him over and drops him with an Inverted DDT!!! The crowd leaps to their feet! It’s the biggest underdog story in OCW history, potentially. TLS covers Syren! Canon has one foot into the ring, to see if he needs to break up the pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
MAJOR KICK OUT
Smith: Syren just tossed TLS five feet into the air!
Hood: What the fuck was that? TLS was actually beating up Scott Syren
Smith: I think it’s safe to say that TLS is as good as ever
Hood: Fuck man…that had me worried. You don’t think TLS is going to beat him, do you?
Smith: He may…
~TLS is back to his feet. Syren sits up more confused than angry. It’s been awhile since he’s been in a pinning predicament. TLS throws a kick, drilling Syren in the back of the head! Syren slumps to his side. TLS heads over and tags in Grenier! The crowd pops for Bob. Bob enters the ring with revenge in his eyes~
Smith: No doubt Grenier is dreaming of redemption
Hood: His first OCW main event was against Scott Syren. A match he lost. A match Syren won.
Smith: Indeed
~TLS urges Bob to head with him for Syren, immediately. Bob stalls, wanting to go over a plan. Syren rises to his feet. TLS and Bob charge at the muscle headed monster. They go for a double clothesline, but Syren responds by dropping them both with a double armed clothesline!! TLS and Grenier hit the mat, hard! TLS rolls out of the ring, clutching his chest~
Smith: Not realizing the sense of urgency, Bob just lost his team the momentum
Hood: Yea, TLS tried to get that guy to hurry the fuck up…but these damn Canadians
Smith: Bob could, also, be under the influence
Hood: It’s been known to happen
~Syren grabs Grenier by the neck, much like he did TLS earlier and pulls him off the mat, lifting him to eye level. Grenier kicks his legs. His face turns red due to the lack of oxygen. Syren lunges forward, smacking his forehead into Bob’s! Grenier goes limp. Syren tosses him to the side. Canon is hopping up and down. Syren reaches over and tags in Curt Canon!~
Smith: And Curt is in the match!
Hood: Aww…does that mean no more Syren?
Smith: It might
~Syren returns to the apron. Curt drags Grenier into the center of the ring. He heads for the nearest corner and quickly ascends. He reaches the top and looks down on Grenier. He leaps off with a Shooting Star Press…he comes down with his knees into the body of Bob!! The crowd goes ‘OHHH’ when witnessing the impact. Canon covers Grenier. TLS leans against he barricade, dazed. He’s too far away to make a save. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…CURT CANON & SCOTT SYREN!!!!!
Smith: They did it! Syren and Canon defeat Grenier and TLS! What a great win
Hood: Canon and Syren are going all the way, jose!
Smith: My name is Smith!
Hood: Yes, I know
Smith: Regardless…the semi-finals are set! Syren and Canon will face Amelia and Slappy in the next round. That should be, well, it should be interesting
Hood: No shit…TLS looked good tonight, though. You’ve got to give the clown credit
Smith: He looked great! Bob, well, we’ve seen better from Bob Grenier
Hood: Must have got his hands on some really strong shit. Probably over medicated before the match
Smith: No doubt. Let's take a look at the updated brackets!
Smith: And the semi finals are set! Four teams remain...they will do battle next week to find out who moves on to the finals
Hood: Syren and Slappy should be an interesting combination
Smith: Indeed...let's not overlook the Rhodes/Veiga rematch, of sorts. Veiga has yet to get over his debut loss when Rhodes pinned JAM G in a fatal fourway at Grenier Massacre
Hood: It was Grenier Massacre...crazy shit happens at Grenier Massacre. I doubt we see the same result
Smith: Vincent Langston might have something to say about that
Hood: Yea? Well so will Zolton
Smith: Two tremendous match ups...I can't wait!
Smith: It’s been a great night of action thus far. A pretty strong edition of Massacre, if I do say so myself
Hood: Yep and that’s all due to Zybala taking the night off. See what happens when that lunatic goes on vacation? CLASSIC OCW returns, BABY
Smith: Or it could have to do with all this in ring talent being showcased, but, hey, you want to go with the departure of Mike Zybala, that’s your choice.
Hood: Damn straight
Smith: So, as we…
~BOOOO goes the crowd. Smith and Hood stop talking. The camera cuts to the top of the ramp where OCW GM Marcus Welsh emerges. He’s got his bodyguard, Knux by his side. He reaches the ring and steps up the ropes. Knux steps up, onto the apron and widens the top and middle rope, easing the access for the GM. Welsh steps into the ring. Knux steps over the top rope, joining his boss. Belvedere enters the ring and is about to hand Welsh the mic when Welsh stops him from doing so. He says something to Belvedere. Belvedere nods and speaks~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce the esteemed, gentlemanly, heroic, and soon to be undefeated in ring competitor…OCW’s current, best and most prolific GM…Marcus Welsh!
~Welsh lifts his hand and waves it side to side as if to say “Okay but nothing special”. Belvedere hands the mic over and exits the ring. The crowd continues to booo~
Marcus Welsh: Thank you, thank you. I know you’re all booing out of fear that Mike Zybala could…appear.
~Welsh pauses, strangely. It’s like he unwittingly stepped into a rhyme. He shakes it off and continues~
Marcus Welsh: Anyway, I’m not out here to talk about our looney tunes commissioner. I need a night away from that guy as much as all of you do. I’m here to talk about a recent string of blackmail attempts hurled at yours truly. Somebody, somewhere is trying to make me beg. They are trying to make me bend. They are trying to make me amend my practices toward their narrative.
~The crowd cheers~
Marcus Welsh: Oh so we’re pro-blackmail, are we? Well that just shows the character each and every single one of you exhibit. Congrats on being criminals, Key West
~The crowd cheers even louder. Welsh rolls his eyes~
Marcus Welsh: Whatever. I’ve had some decisions to make. Do I work with this blackmailer? Do I call the police? How do I handle this? Well…
~Welsh turns around and pats the giant Knux on the shoulder~
Marcus Welsh: When you’ve got top of the line security you don’t have to put up with weak ass shit like blackmail. So, you nefarious blackmailer, I’m calling you out, whoever you are. And so help me, if you are working for Zybala I will make your life a living Hell.
~Welsh pauses, waiting for the unexpected arrival of his ‘blackmailer’. The crowd finally quiets, eager to see if someone emerges~
Smith: Funny how he never mentioned Vargas or Treat Cassidy
Hood: QUIET
Smith: Well it seems as though the blackmailing attempts, from what I’ve been able to discern through journalistic practices…it seems as though the blackmail thrown at Welsh has centered around his treatment of Cassidy and his clients.
Hood: FAKE NEWS
~Welsh retains control of the mic. He turns, facing the ramp. He seems eager to face his tormentor. A few moments pass – nothing. The fans grow anxious. Welsh, hearing the fans reactions rising and falling looks around, realizing he’s got thousands of potential suspects surrounding him. He grabs Knux and places Knux in between himself, and the side of the ring, facing the ramp. He places his back against Knux, panning the crowd. His nerves increase with each silent second that elapses.~
Marcus Welsh: Well?! Come out and face me, you cowa--
~The arena is plunged into darkness.~
Hood: Oooh, so spooky.~
Smith: Hey, do you hear that?
Hood: Hear what?
~A funeral dirge begins to play, the OCWTron coming to life with the sight of a church lit only by candles. As the music continues to play, the footage carries the watcher along down the center aisle - and as it does? The setting changes from the church to a winding pathway through a cemetery at night before coming to rest at a tombstone with a single word carved into it.~
Smith: If that’s what I think it is...
Hood: What did I tell you about thinking?!
Smith: ...then Marcus Welch is in far more trouble than he knows.
Hood: Stop being so cryptic! Who--
~’Control’ by VNV Nation continues playing beyond its opening note, the lights rimming the stage flaring to life in a blue that’s so rich it seemingly colors the air itself--and once they do? The roof of the arena blows itself off from the ovation that is received by the blond that stands at its top, features frigid as she stares holes through the man that has been her target.~
Smith: HOLY SMOKES, IT’S SIOBHAN TOWNSEND! THE REQUIEM HAS COME TO OCW!
Hood: ...shit. Shit! Knux, get the bossman out of the ring pronto!
Smith: I don’t think that’s happening!
~...because as the lights come up proper and the Requiem begins to sprint down to ringside with her trademark speed, Marcus starts to demand protection - but when he sees that Knux has been knocked unconscious with some sort of weapon that has left him bleeding? His face grows even paler.~
Hood: Shit! She killed Knux! Security, arrest that woman!
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood.
~Welsh is stunned when he sees Townsend. He’s very familiar with who she is, what she’s accomplished and, most important of all, what she’s capable of. He glances around the ring, looking for an exit. Fans are everywhere, leaning over the barricade. There is no safe exit. Townsend hits the ring and is within striking distance of Welsh before he has a chance to make up his mind. He stiffens up. A thought appears to cross his mind. He speaks, forcing a smile onto his lips.~
Marcus Welsh: Siobhan…may I call you Siobhan?
~He gets no response beyond that cold, penetrating stare.~
Marcus Welsh: Missus Townsend it is! So great to see you in OCW. I’m a huge fan of your work. You’ve got the talent to go places here, in OCW. I know you’ve been successful in other promotions. And I know, with some hard work and dedication you can be successful here. So, what do you say? Let’s drop this personal beef between us and let’s make you a star!
~More of that stare is all the response he gets, and Marcus can be seen growing uncomfortable all over again.~
Hood: Has she even blinked?!
Smith: I… can’t say if she has or not. She looks unimpressed, though.
Hood: I’m sure she’s plenty impressed! I mean, she’s probably just got one of those, whaddya call’em… oh yeah! A resting bitch face.
Smith: Somehow, I doubt that.
~To his credit, Welsh sticks out his free hand and forces his smile to stay in place.~
Marcus Welsh: Put her there, Mi--
~The mic is snatched out of Welsh’s hand, the Requiem taking a step forward to get right up in his face. Despite being shorter than him by half a foot at least, she somehow seems to loom over him as she brings the mic up to her lips and utters a singular word in a Norwegian-accented monotone.~
Siobhan Townsend: Confess.
~And that single word brings the crowd to their feet all over again, cheering loudly for the blond.~
Smith: I could’ve told you that wasn’t gonna work. Siobhan’s mission in any company she’s ever set foot in is to remove the corrupt, and there’s no one here that’s more--
Hood: Don’t you dare finish that sentence! I won’t have you lying about our boss on live TV!
~It’s visibly obvious Welsh is uncomfortable. There is something he could, should confess. Does it weight on his conscience? It doesn’t appear so. The angst centers around his position, his power more so than any sense of virtue. The witty quickness he typically displays in abundance seems to be leaking. He won’t give up, though, a P.A. giving him his own mic so he doesn’t have to try to take the one from Townsend.~
Marcus Welsh: Confess? To what? To offering you a tremendous contract and great starting position within this company? Because that’s what I’m willing to do. Name your price. Name your position. It’s yours!
~The Requiem doesn’t so much as consider his pitch before responding in the same flat, unfeeling tone.~
Siobhan Townsend: Confess.
~The crowd begins to chant ‘CONFESS!’ Welsh looks around for an invisible escape. He flashes a typically charming smile. The smile’s power appears to be non-existent this evening. He pulls the mic back up to his mouth~
Marcus Welsh: To what? To vetoing all of Zybala’s dumbass ideas? Is a confession really required for that? I mean you know the guy, he’s certifiable. That is my ONLY crime. So, if you want me to confess to that…then, there it is. I confess. I have vetoed a bunch of his ideas for the greater good…to make OCW a better place.
~While Siobhan does indeed know Mike Zybala, such does not change her answer.~
Siobhan Townsend: Confess.
~The chants grow louder… as does Welsh’s discomfort. He’s visibly starting to sweat, as a matter of fact, whereas Townsend remains dead calm.~
Smith: She’s not giving an inch - and the fans love it!
Hood: Someone needs to shut that bitch up!
Smith: For what, saying one word? But what a word it is… and she’s rattling Marcus with it when others have failed with far more!
~Welsh extends his arms. He seems to be pleading with Townsend at this point. From what we can gather it seems as though he’s playing the confused card. He erases all doubt by speaking~
Marcus Welsh: Listen, if I knew this supposed confession you’re referencing I’d admit it. I’ve always dealt on the up and up. I treat people the way they deserve to be treated. Have I been a little strict with some individuals? Sure. But nothing that requires confession. So, listen, why don’t we call a truce and head backstage and continue this, off camera. Please.
~The crowd’s chants switch from ‘CONFESS!’ to ‘BULLSHIT!’ and even if the Requiem’s expression never changes? Her response makes it clear that she agrees with the crowd.~
Siobhan Townsend: Confess.
~The chants are deafening. Maddening. Welsh begins to pace. His face is turning red. He’s losing it. He has his back to Townsend. He lowers his head. His shoulders slump. He brings the mic to his face~
Marcus Welsh: Alright. I confess.
~The crowd quiets. Welsh turns around, glaring at Townsend~
Marcus Welsh: You hear that? I confess! I confess to using my power against Chad Vargas. I confess to setting him up and removing him from the OCW Title match against Matt Meyhu. I confess to drug testing Iggy Hardy and no other wrestler. I confess to alerting police to Iggy’s drug habits which led to his imprisonment. I confess to loathing Treat Cassidy due to the success he once had here in OCW. Oh yes, I confess. I confess that I am the GM of OCW and I will do whatever I have to do whenever I have to do it to preserve my position and my image!
~Silence reigns throughout the arena at the bombs Marcus just dropped, though Siobhan’s expression still has not changed… or, at least, not at first.~
Smith: Oh my God. I knew Marcus Welsh was a slimeball, but this is… wow.
Hood: I’m speechless. Speechless! I never dreamed--
Smith: You knew all along. Don’t even try to deny it.
Hood: Wait. Is she - I think Townsend might be smiling!
~If one looks closely enough, one can see that one corner of her mouth is indeed ticked upward a little. She remains silent, though, as she waits for what Marcus just said to sink in… and when it does? Welsh looks around like he’s been caught on camera doing something that should never see light. His eyes meet a camera lens and widen. He quickly lowers his head and covers his face. The crowd begins a “FASCIST” chant. Welsh stands upright~
Marcus Welsh: Whoa, whoa…that is NOT me. That is NOT who I am. This…this is all a gross misrepresentation. I simply misspoke. We’ve got this…this foreign woman and her stupid accent tripping me up. This can all be…
~OCW security heads down the ramp, toward the ring~
Marcus Welsh: Thank you. Finally. Get this woman out of here…I want her banned from the…wait, what are you doing?!
~They reach for Welsh. Very calmly and very professionally they try to usher Welsh out of the ring~
Marcus Welsh: Get off of me! I’m the general manager! I’m your boss!
Smith: I think they technically work for Buffett, not Welsh. And if removing Welsh is in Buffett’s best interest then removing Welsh is what they will be asked to do.
Hood: This is ridiculous! Marcus Welsh has done nothing but run a tremendous organization. Get your hands off him!
~Welsh, realizing the severity of the situation starts to fight back. This increases the security team’s opposition. They strengthen their grip on Welsh and go from ushering to forcing him toward the ropes. They get into the ropes and reach the apron. Welsh makes a desperate final effort, shoving the two security members off him…they fall to the floor. His back is to the ropes. He turns around, stepping through the ropes. He marches for Townsend. He’s got the look of a man with nothing to lose. He raises his fist--~
Smith: Big mistake, Welsh!
~--and the moment he gets close enough, he’s getting floored with the spinning backfist from Hell that Siobhan calls Eradication! The fans loudly cheer the Requiem as she quickly drops to a knee, her fist driving into Marcus’ forehead a couple of times for good measure before he’s being hauled out of harm’s way.~
Hood: Oh thank God, they got him out of there!
Smith: Not before the Requiem got a few good shots in!
~Rolling onto her back, Townsend kips up before she’s retrieving one of the discarded microphones, her tone still as even and bereft of exertion as it was before.~
Siobhan Townsend: You have been found guilty, Marcus Welsh. You will be eradicated.
~’Control’ hits the sound system, the microphone discarded as Siobhan stands in the middle of the ring, her gaze impaling Marcus Welsh even as he’s being dragged toward the back.~
Hood: They need to ban this bitch for life! Life, I say!
Smith: Judging by how she’s standing tall, I doubt that’s going to be the case. The Requiem has come to OCW...and she’s starting her cleansing of this company with the biggest evil it has. And I, for one, want to see her succeed!
Hood: THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS
Smith: Oh hush. If that man is/was using his power to manipulate the rankings then he deserves whatever is coming to him
Hood: You don't mean...termination...do you?
Smith: I wouldn't be surprised
Hood: But who will run this place if Welsh is fired?
Smith: ...
Hood: ...
Smith: ...
Hood: Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue
Smith: Well folks...Siobhan Townsend is here! And, she's already made a monumental impact without logging one second's worth of ring time
Hood: The biggest stars don't have to wrestle to make an impact
Smith: Indeed! Let's cut to an advertisement for Mayhem on the Midway while we get things ready for our main event
LIVE! Monday, September 10th 2018
From the OCW Theme Park
Located in Aurora, Ohio
Opening Match
Street Fight
Craze Championship
Margarita Mix Finals
OCW Title Match
TBA vs. TBA
Falls Count Anywhere/No Disqualification
Marcus Welsh vs. Mike Zybala
TBA vs. Mike Harrison
TBA vs. TBA
"The Marvel" Matt Meyhu (c) vs. TBA
Main Event
Triple Threat #1 Contenders Match
Mack O’Connor (19-5) vs. Alice Knight (12-2) vs. Ed Houston © (10-6)
~The crowd is focused! They know what time it is! Belvedere stands in the middle of the ring – all business. He clears his throat. The fans chant “OCW! OCW!” He clears this throat a second time. They adhere to the clearing of his throat and silence themselves~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This match is a Triple Threat contest scheduled for one fall! The winner of this match will go on to face Matt Meyhu for the OCW Championship at Mayhem on the Midway!!! Introducing first…
~ The screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the arena. Rocket Man starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way down the entrance ramp. He stops by fans in the crowd and high fives them. Once he gets about half way down the ramp, he sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he waves to the crowd~
Belvedere: From Miami, Florida…standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is the OCW Craze Champion…Ed Houston!!!
~ ”Electrified" by Dressy Bessy begins to play as the fans turn and cheer the rapidly rising fan favorite in OCW, Alice Knight. She makes her way to the ring with a bubbly demeanor. She enters into the ring and kind of skips around for no apparent reason. She rushes the ropes and heads to the middle turnbuckle and waves to the fans as her music fades out~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from Bethel, New York…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is the OCW Oceanic Champion…she is a former OCW Champion…she is a current OCW Hall of Famer…she is…OWL IS NIGHT!!
~The crowd HOOTS loudly! Alice smiles and waves at the fans. Ed seems to be okay with all of this. He still has his Craze Title secured tightly around his waist. They both stand and wait for the final member of the match~
Smith: She looks great!
Hood: You better be talking about that smoking hot blonde in the front row and not the gypsy witch standing inside the ring
~ "Vagabond” by the Greenskeepers hits. Mack O’Connor walks out on the stage and walks 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. He doesn’t talk trash to his opponent but he makes sure to stare them down, letting them know he means business~
Belvedere: And their opponent…from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 220lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is a current OCW Hall of Famer…he is…Mack O’Connor!!!
~The crowd is split on Mack. They are behind Ed. But they are super-duper psychotically behind ALICE. The bell sounds! The crowd goes wild. Belvedere collects the Craze Title from Ed. He looks for the Oceanic belt, but it is nowhere to be found. So, he exits the ring with the Craze Championship~
Hood: That witch has already lost the Oceanic Title!
Smith: No she hasn’t…it’s not an active title. It was more of a novelty act, Hood. She can do with it what she likes
Hood: Which means it’s probably listed on Ebay somewhere…fucking Alice Kngiht
~Ed bounces around, happily. It’s his first shot at the Main Event scene. He’s like a kid walking into Disney World for the first time. It’s Christmas morning. Welcome to the party, Ed! Mack shoots a glare Ed’s way. Ed turns and smiles. Mack tells Ed to ‘wipe that fucking smile off your face. Act like you’ve been here before!’ Houston ceases his energetic bouncing, digesting Mack’s words. Suddenly a “HOOT!” sounds out. Both Ed and Mack turn to see Alice hooting and strutting. The crowd responds with hoots of their own~
Smith: Such charisma! Look at her get this crowd worked up!
Hood: This is an OCW #1 Contenders match! I don’t think Ed is the one who needs to act like he’s been there before
Smith: Hey! This is all part of Alice’s gameplan
Hood: She has no gameplan. To say she has a game plan is an insult to games. And plans.
~Ed walks up to Alice. She stops strutting and braces for combat. Ed makes a motion that he ‘comes in peace’. He starts to strut. The crowd pops way too loudly for this shit. Alice nods and deems his strutting acceptable. She follows suit. The two strut around as the crowd chants “HOOT!” over and over again~
Smith: What a moment!
Hood: For anybody changing the channel…I don’t blame you
Smith: Stop encouraging that type of behavior!
~Mack approaches the two strutting contenders. He lets out a sigh and motions for them to show him how it’s done. Happily, they both strut around Mack. They stop and stand in front of Mack. He nods, acting as though he understands. He bends his good knee and gets ready to strut. Alice looks out the crowd, pointing at Mack…they go wild! Ed does the same. Mack suddenly lunges forward and takes them both down with a double clothesline!!! They hit the mat hard! The crowd BOOOOOOS~
Smith: Hey! That was totally unnecessary!
Hood: Thank you, Mack! Thank you, Mack!
Smith: Stop that!
~Mack grabs Alice by the hair…he pulls her to her feet and tosses her over the top rope, to the floor. Alice hits hard. The fans boo! Some nerd starts a chant that somehow gains traction. Mack is reaching for Ed when he stops and listens. “Mack O’Stupid!” He narrows his eyes, wondering if he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing. Finally, he realizes he IS hearing what he’s hearing. He stands upright and looks at the crowd with embarrassment. He shakes his head. Many people in the crowd stop, realizing what they are chanting. The chant dies a humiliating death. The guy who started it, a man wearing a “JAM G RULEZ” t-shirt, is instantly mobbed by grown men who suddenly feel castrated. Mack nods, approving of the crowd culling the idiot from the herd. He snares Ed by the hair, pulling him to his feet~
Smith: I guess we are going to stymie our fan’s creativity
Hood: CREATIVITY? That was the dumbest chant in the history of chants…and trust me, there have been some ridiculous dumb chants. Orange Cat Head, anyone?
Smith: They were trying to have fun!
Hood: I’m sorry but we cannot allow chants like that to prosper. It will dumb down our fans…we don’t want that. These people already cheer for Alice fucking Knight. So they’re pretty fucking dumb as it is…to make them even dumber could yield disastrous results
~Mack takes both hands, places them into Ed’s chest and shoves him violently backward. Ed SLAMS into a corner…the back of his head snapping over the top buckle. He reaches for his neck, wincing in pain. Mack starts to run…but, before he does, he checks out his knee. It seems to be okay. So he walks, briskly toward Ed and begins to punch him in the ribcage with lefts and rights. Ed quickly covers up. Mack responds by throwing jabs at Ed’s head. Ed tries to cover his face…but the body punches resume…this process is repeated for a while before Ed finally bends over and ducks his upper body through the middle and top rope, looking for a reprieve~
Smith: Mack is a brawler…you don’t want to get into a fist fight with that man
Hood: Fist fight? You talk as though that was a competition. Mack was beating the shit out of Ed
Smith: I’m just saying…Ed needs to get out of that corner and make Mack run around. He’s already got a suspect knee
Hood: Oh so you want Ed to cripple Mack, is that it? Put the man in a wheelchair. Boy you’re something, you know that?
Smith: That’s not what I was saying!
~Mack grabs Ed by the legs, trying to pull him out of the corner, back into the ring. Ed manages to wrap his legs around Mack’s waist while holding onto the middle rope. He pulls himself forward, using the rope as leverage, and yanks Mack forward with his legs…this motion sends Mack tumbling forward, through the ropes, all the way to the floor! The crowd pops! Ed winds up sitting atop the apron with his legs dangling over the edge. He’s holding his ribs while rubbing his face. O’Connor is on the ground, lying on his side, against the barricade. Ed powers through the pain and gets to his feet. He stands upon the apron and looks down at Mack. He leaps off, attaining a tremendous vertical push…he comes crashing down with a half double foot stomp, half drop kick…his feet SLAM into the chest/upper abdomen of Mack! The crowd goes wild! Ed falls somewhat harmlessly onto his back, rolling safely backward, over his head into a seated position near the apron cloth~
Smith: Tremendous athleticism by Ed Houston! The Craze Champion has a great opportunity here…the biggest opportunity of his career
Hood: Yea, if that fucking NASA drop out were to pin Alice Knight…he’d face THE CHAMP for the OCW Title
Smith: Or he could pin Mack O’Connor. It doesn’t have to be our beloved Alice
Hood: YOUR beloved. And no…he absolutely cannot, in any version of this story pin Mack O’Connor
~Houston returns to his feet, feeling the pressure of the moment. He’s got Mack down. He heads over toward O’Connor who is squished up against the barricade thanks to the kick moments ago from Ed. Houston is about to grab Mack by the ear or something (guy has no hair) but is tapped on the shoulder. He turns around to find Alice Knight! She pokes him in the eye and starts giggling. Houston reaches for his face, stunned. Alice kicks him in the gut and drops him with a DDT on the outside!! The crowd erupts with “OWL! IS! NIGHT!”~
Smith: What awareness! What stealth! She is better than I can remember!
Hood: She poked him in the eye
Smith: Emulating an owl pecking at a predator. She’s in her element, Hood
Hood: This shit sucks
~Alice pulls Ed to his feet and rolls him into the ring. She hops onto the apron. Mack returns to his feet, wobbly. Alice looks over her shoulder, spotting the bald brawler. She leaps off the apron with a Moonsault!! She nails it!! The move sends Mack crashing back into the barricade, back first!! Alice manages to land on her feet, on the other side, in the crowd! The fans around her go crazy hooting and strutting. Alice takes a brief moment to take smile before hopping back over the apron and sliding into the ring~
Smith: Great move! What tremendous athleticism…she’s more than meets the eye
Hood: I think she thought Mack was a half-eaten burger in a dumpster. That’s the only way I can explain what she just did…and/or why
Smith: Erroneous! She’s trying to reclaim what was once hers…the OCW Title
Hood: DON’T REMIND ME
~She tries to pin Ed, but finds Houston already recovered from the DDT. Ed is rising to his feet. Alice sweeps his legs, knocking Ed onto his back. She grabs his legs in the preliminary stage for a Sharpshooter…she steps through and stomps Ed in the stomach. She leaps into the air, dropping Ed’s legs and delivers an Elbow into the throat of Houston. She makes a quick cover…Scruff slides in…the crowd rises with anticipation~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Dang it!
Hood: You seriously thought that was it?
Smith: I had hope
Hood: Fuckin hell, man
~Alice is back to her feet. She hits the ropes as Ed rises to his feet. Mack hops onto the apron, apparently recovered enough to fight back. His knee holds up just fine. He reaches the apron and snares Alice by the hair before she can shoot off the ropes. He pulls back, yanking hard. She remains near the ropes…Mack dives forward with the uninjured portion of his head and head butts Alice in the back of the head!! Knight stumbles forward, right into a spinning heel kick from Ed!! Alice hits the mat hard. Houston thinks about a pin, but Mack steps into the ropes and looks at Ed as if to say “You better not fucking try it”~
Smith: Poor Alice…
Hood: Finally! It’s been awhile since someone has really given that gypsy witch what she deserves
Smith: Did end up so well for the last guy – Roach
Hood: Always gotta slam Roach. I guess you hate the game of Cricket, too…right?
Smith: It’s a fine game
~During Ed’s indecision and Mack’s arrival, Alice rolls out of the ring to the floor. Mack sighs and points as if to say “You let her get away.” Houston, for a moment, seems almost overwhelmed. The fans then start to chant his name…this causes his confidence to SOAR back to its usual height! He pumps his fist and hits the ropes. Mack braces. Houston bounces off the ropes and leaps over Mack with a sunset flip. He tries pulling Mack over, but Mack is too strong. Mack throws a punch at Ed’s head…Houston lets go and slides away. Mack’s fist slams into the mat. Ed kips up. Mack turns around. Ed throws a superkick…Mack catches the kick…he pulls Houston forward and attempts a lariat…but Ed ducks the lariat! Houston hits the ropes…Mack turns around. Houston sprints toward Mack and dives, kicking Mack in the bad knee! Mack yells “FUCK!” and falls to one knee! Houston pops back to his feet, the crowd is going crazy~
Smith: What a smart move! Ed is rising to the occasion! He’s showing that he belongs!
Hood: What a dick move!
Smith: He could have kicked him in the groin
Hood: I’m willing to bet Mack would have preferred that
~Houston throws a few kicks into Mack’s chest. Mack absorbs the blows, wincing with each one. Houston grabs the arms of a staggered Mack…he pulls Mack forward and drills him with a rip cord knee!! Mack falls over. Ed scrambles for the pin. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out! Mack O’Connor took some vicious blows but had enough in him to kick out
Hood: When was the last time Mack was pinned?
Smith: It’s been awhile…much like Syren the man is rarely pinned
Hood: Guy’s fucking tough
~Houston pops back up. He’s on his feet, poised. Mack is slow to his feet. Houston lunges forward and drills Mack with a Superkick!!! Mack hits the mat and rolls onto the apron. Ed heads Mack’s way. Alice slides into the ring. She spins Ed around and delivers a high knee into Ed’s chin! Houston flails into the corner, hitting Scruff with his arm. Scruff falls down. The crowd reacts…Julliet, who must have been waiting for the opportunity, runs down to the ring~
Smith: It’s the Pride of New Mexico!
Hood: Did someone tell her there are light tubes under the ring?
Smith: I…I don’t know
~Brooks slides into the ring and grabs Alice from behind, who didn’t see her coming. She lifts Alice up and deposits her onto the ring with a Full Nelson Slam!!! Alice is out! The fans are booing! Brooks smiles, looking down at Alice. Scruff starts to move. Brooks exits the ring and gets out of sight. Houston finds his composure, and sees Alice down. He scratches his head for a moment…but then decides to climb to the top rope~
Smith: Ed knows he didn’t do that damage…but this is too big an opportunity to pass up!
Hood: NASA would frown on this behavior
Smith: Forget NASA!
~Ed reaches the top and looks down. He’s about to leap off when Mack lunges at him, pushing him off the top turnbuckle! Houston falls all the way to the floor, landing roughly. The crowd BOOOOS. Mack enters into the ring. Alice sits up. Mack kicks her in the face. He grabs her by the hair, pulls her up, hooks her and drops her with Claymore!!! The ring shakes from the impact. Mack goes for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the NEW #1 CONTENDER FOR THE OCW TITLE….MACK O’CONNOR!!!!!
Smith: Mack is going to Mayhem on the Midway to face Matt Meyhu!
Hood: Whew…justice was served
Smith: That darn Julliet Brooks cost Alice her shot…I am sad
Hood: Fuck your sadness
Smith: Valiant effort from Ed Houston. He’s getting very, very close
Hood: Too bad this isn’t horse shoes
Smith: RUDE
~We cut backstage to find a happy Julliet Brooks. Who’Re is breathing heavily, after chasing her down~
Who’Re: Julliet! A quick word about what just happened out there…
~Brooks snares the mic and shoves Who’Re out of view~
Julliet Brooks: "Alice, Alice, Alice. I bet you didn't see that coming did you? For far too long I have witnessed you sitting pretty at the mountain top of OCW with your pathetic catch phrases and child like persona and not once did I do anything about it. In fact I was a supporter of yours. That was.. until recently when I realized that supporting you was possibly the biggest mistake I could make, so I decided that instead of feeding into trash such as yourself, I would get rid of it and this is simply a start of things to come. Comfort that precious title of yours, because you never know when it will fall into the hands of someone who is just better than you."
~Brooks slings the mic into the wall, breaking it. It falls on Who’Re, who is on the ground, sitting up against the wall as far from Brooks as possible. Julliet storms off~
~We cut to a promotional video featuring all of Meyhu’s greatest ‘hits’ since joining OCW~
Voice: Matt Meyhu, The Marvel. A man who joined OCW in 2017. His signing was a major coup for an organization looking to get back on solid footing. They hoped he’d pan out. He did not disappoint. Meyhu went from being a big time free agent acquisition to transcending into an OCW legend. Each OCW era has its star. Lurrr during the beginning of OCW. Scott Syren followed. Silverfreak headlined the next era of stars. Silver Cyanide accepted the torch thereafter. Syren would reclaim his throne as the 2000s came to an end. Pryde and The Incredible One would helm the next wave. Chad Vargas stepped up in 2015. And now…now OCW has a new face of the company. OCW has a new legend. OCW has a Marvel. OCW has Matt Meyhu to lead the roster.
~An image of Meyhu with the OCW Title is shown~
Voice: Tonight we honor the greatest in ring superstar in OCW history. Tonight we honor a marvel amongst men. Tonight we honor Matt Meyhu!
~We cut back to the announce table. The fans are booing~
Smith: A bit over the top
Hood: You have no taste
Smith: I take offense to that remark!
Hood: Why? Because it’s true?
Smith: Is Meyhu great, sure. But the greatest ever? What is he, some kind of god?
Hood: He could be
Smith: WHAT?!
Hood: I’m just saying…I’ve never met a god…how do I know he isn’t one? Not like I can judge by past experience
Smith: You disgust me. This entire evening is disgusting. A corrupt GM and now this over the top celebration. Ugh…let’s just get this over with
Hood: I’m glad we’ve got front row seats!
Smith: We’ve always got front row seats
Hood: It's time!
Smith: It certainly is...
~With the title over his shoulder, 'The Marvel' makes his way down the ramp. He stops about half way before looking around with a confused look on his face. A smirk comes over him before he snaps his fingers. A loud pop is heard and streamers begin shooting through the sky, and $13 bills rain down on the crowd. He nods his head, satisfied.~
Hood: We're all going to be rich!
~Meyhu approaches the ring and climbs up onto the apron. He admires the bunches of balloons floating above each ring post. He enters the ring and approaches a large object, covered by an even larger sheet. He grins at the two employees standing on either side of it.~
Smith: What do you think is under there?
Hood: Perfection!
~The music fades and Meyhu grabs a microphone.~
Matt Meyhu: You like me! You really like me!
~They don't like him.~
Matt Meyhu: I always knew this day would come. After all my hard work... Everything I have done for this company! Shouldering this busy schedule and putting OCW on the map... I have earned this night. A night to truly be appreciated! And after all this time, you've earned the right to appreciate me!
Smith: Busy schedule?
Hood: You think it's easy being a Marvel?!
~The fans boo Meyhu for a moment as he shrugs them off. Meyhu points at the two men, who remove the sheet, revealing a statue of Matt Meyhu himself!~
Matt Meyhu: Beautiful! You know you've made it when you've got your own statue. Forget all those knock off action figures you can buy out there. This is what counts! Nobody else has one of these. Only me. Only Matt Meyhu!
~The fans begin to boo louder as Meyhu silently admires the statue for a moment. He snaps out of it.~
Matt Meyhu: Okay, okay. Enough about me... Let's talk about the OCW Champion!
~Meyhu laughs to himself more than he should for that joke.~
Smith: Oh, brother.
Matt Meyhu: Some of that Meyhu wit you all appreciate so much. Hey, listen. Can somebody get me some water?! Your champion needs some water! I've got another 30 minutes out here.
~Meyhu motions toward the back as the crowd contemplates sitting through another half hour of this. Scruff comes down with a bottle of water, slides in the ring and gives it to Meyhu. Meyhu uncaps the bottle and starts to drink.~
~Meyhu spits out the mouthful of water in shock as the fans cheer. Meyhu looks towards the entrance way holding his title, ready to attack.~
Hood: I thought that asshole left the building!!
Smith: So did I. Maybe a technical slip up?
~A few moments pass and nothing happens. The music dies down and Meyhu looks relaxed when the lights turn off. In about a minute or two, the lights come back on and Meyhu looks around but only sees Scruff who shrugs. A voice then comes over the loud speaker.~
Voice: Sorry everyone, we're having a little computer problems here in the truck. We'll work it out in a minute.
~Meyhu looks relieved and starts to raise his microphone when Scruff jumps forward and boots Meyhu in the gut and drops him with a d.d.t.!~
Smith: What the hell?
Hood: Scruff has snapped! Why is he attacking the champ?!
~Scruff picks up Meyhu, whips him in the corner and charges after him, jumps in the air and drives his knee into the cheek of the champ! Meyhu stumbles forward and gets blasted with a superkick from Scruff! Meyhu falls face first to the mat as Scruff waves towards the back and out comes running.......Scruff?!?~
Smith: I'm seeing double! What is going on here?!
Hood: Did Roach and Grenier manage to filter pot through the building's air system?
~The second Scruff slides in the ring as the first one starts clawing at his face, tearing off chunks of flesh. A few people shriek in horror until the realize that the skin is fake; an elaborate mask, and beneath that mask...~
Hood: MOTHER FUCKING WHORE!
Smith: It's Zybala!
~It's true boys and girls! Under the Scruff costume is Mike Zybala! With a flick of his wrists, he throws the fake skin from his hands then reaches into his pocket, pulls out a piece of paper, and gives it to the real Scruff. He reads this paper, nods at Zybala and calls for the bell. Zybala waits for Meyhu to return to his feet. The stunned champion slowly rises. The fans are on their feet, wishing Meyhu would get to his feet faster. Zybala stomps his feet repeatedly against the mat, anxious. Meyhu finally stands. Zybala lunges forward with another SUPERKICK!! Meyhu stumbles...the back of his head SMACKS against his statue! He goes limp, falling onto the mat, flat on his back. Zybala jumps on top of Meyhu...Scruff...THE REAL SCRUFF...slides in for the count~
Scruff: One.......
Two......
Three!!!
~Scruffs calls for the bell and Zybala grabs the OCW title and stands up with it, holding it up in the air as the fans confusion has broken and the cheers rain down on the commissioner!~
Hood: What the fuck is going on?!?
Smith: I think that was Zybala's title contract from Survivor!
Hood: Oh fuck no! Where's the boss!? Where is Mr. Welsh??
Smith: He was escorted from the building after Siobhan Townsend forced him to confess his sins! He isn’t here to do anything about this. There won’t be any vetoes tonight!
Hood: FUCK MY LIFE
~Zybala lowers the title and drapes it over his shoulder and gets handed a microphone.~
Zybala: So I lied. I didn't leave for Ohio, I wasn't at the airport. I was planning this elaborate ruse. As we all know, when I won Survivor, I got a contract for a title match on any Massacre I want, and GASP! TONIGHT is a Massacre! So I'm your champion. Fucking deal with it!
~Zybala then does a mic drop and exits the ring and strolls up the ramp. Meyhu starts to slowly makes his way up on his hands and knees. He doesn’t appear to realize what’s just taken place. The crowd is a mixture of shocked and ecstatic. Zybala pauses atop the ramp with a large smile and the title over his shoulder. We fade to black~