OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, October 8th 2018
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~It’s another Monday night in the home of OCW’s loyal, anonymous fan. He’s had a pretty typical start of the week. Slightly hungover but not too hungover. He got the minimal amount of work completed that a Monday requires. He’s back at home wondering why he succumbed to the temptation of Taco Bell. I mean is that even real meat? It sure doesn’t look real. It sure doesn’t feel real. But, what the hell…it tastes halfway decent going down and, I mean how can you argue with that for under ten dollars? The tacos are spread out. We aren’t fancy. There’s no supreme burrito or nachos to devour. The place calls itself Taco Bell so we get Tacos! If they sold bells we’d probably own a few of those, as well. The OCW logo flashes! It’s just about time! We do a quick inspection. The food is relatively warm and ready for consumption. A glass of water sets nearby because, well, we don’t want to ensure heart failure at a young age. We’d like to stave off diabetes as long as possible. The ceiling fan is on and our phone has been turned to silent. We are in the ZONE. The Massacre logo fades and we cut into a jam packed OCW Arena full of screaming OCW fans! They chant the promotion’s name…they are ready for some action. We bite into our taco and feel an amalgamation of satisfaction, guilt, and impending regret. That’s what Taco Bell is all about. We focus in on Smith and Hood~
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 Hood!
Smith: Yes, we’ve heard you say that about a bazillion times in the past
Hood: Wow? Is bazillion a word? I don’t see the red squiggly line underneath it
Smith: It must be
Hood: That or I’ve altered my software’s nomenclature. Either way…sweet ass! Bazillion, baby!
Smith: Well since we’re off to such a relevant start allow me to mention that we’ve got five interesting match ups tonight! Warren Lapierre looks to get back on the winning track. Hellraven and Talia Areano both need a win in the worst way…who will emerge victorious between those two?
Hood: Ya got me, pilgrim
Smith: OGDA and Uber Man do battle in a SUPER HERO special match. That one should be fun!
Hood: I think your definition of fun differs from mine
Smith: We’ll also get to watch Solomon Cain return to action as he takes on the very quiet, almost mute Siobhan Townsend
Hood: Yea man she lives her life by the ‘women should be seen, not heard’ axiom.
Smith: All complaints about sexist remarks should be addressed to Hood, folks. Not Smith. And, well…our main event is going to be very interesting. OCW veteran TLS is challenging the Craze Champion in a Non Title match. Can Mike Harrison knock off one of OCW’s most successful wrestlers?
Hood: Only if he has enough paint thinner. Toss that shit in The Lost Soul’s face so we can finally see what’s under the pain. Elephant Man? Red Skull? Nicolas Cage? I NEED TO KNOW!
Smith: Well since my colleague appears to be in rare form tonight let’s make haste and get to our first match of the evening! Warren Lapierre returns to the ring looking to bounce back after his narrow loss to Vincent Langston one week ago!
Singles Match
Warren Lapierre (6-6) vs. John E Depth (0-2)
~The crowd is jeering Depth who stands in the ring. He’s trying to give away flash drives featuring trailers for some of his up and coming projects. “Slam Buss Vol 69” happens to be one of them. It apparently features a disgustingly erotic scene between Grossy Barns and Hail Hiney. Fans, though, aren’t buying it. They don’t want it. One fan yells out “I’M NOT DOWNLOADING YOUR VIRUS CORRUPTED SOFTWARE ONTO MY BADASS GAMING COMPUTER!” Other fans seem to share this sentiment. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contests is scheduled for one fall. Currently in the ring…John E Depth!
~Depth, in the ring, tries to pose but keeps getting pelted by the rejected flash drives. He acts like it’s not bothering him but with each pelt we can see his soul dim a little darker. And, well, we would like to say things are going to get better for Depth…but we all know that’s not going to happen. And, as if on cue, Belvedere speaks~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Kinetic” by Arcturus starts to play! The fans stand and watch the entrance way as the former Muffles…now known as Warren Lapierre makes his way to the ring. He looks focused and ready for combat. He rushes down the ramp and slides into the ring, under the bottom rope. He pops to his feet, ready for the task at hand~
Belvedere: And his opponent…from Fairfax, Virginia…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 236lbs…Warren Lapierre!!!
~The crowd pops. Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~
Smith: It’s been nearly a month since Muffles unmasked and ever since it’s as though he’s been plagued by his former self
Hood: As though? He was fucking assaulted by a Muffles impersonator last week! It cost him the damn match!
Smith: Okay, so, yea, that did happen
Hood: Did we ever figure out who was underneath that Muffles mask?
Smith: We did not
Hood: Fuckin hell
~Depth picks up a zip drive which is sitting atop the mat. He offers it to Lapierre. A peace offering? Who knows. Lapierre looks down at the zip drive and smacks it out of Depth’s hand. The crowd laughs. Depth is like “OH COME ON!!”~
Smith: Good for Warren! Don’t accept that man’s trash!
Hood: You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you can’t GIVE porn away
Smith: The man has been renting space down at rock bottom for years
Hood: I guess that’s why his last name is Depth
~Depth seems concerned. He tries talking to Lapierre. Warren responds by pie facing Depth to the mat! Depth hits hard! The crowd cheers. Warren stands over Depth. He becomes distracted. He looks into the crowd and sees a person dressed as MUFFLES. Warren heads toward the ropes to get a closer look~
Smith: Hey! What is this?! Who is that?
Hood: MUFFLES IS BACK
Smith: Is that the same person from last week or is this just going to be an ongoing prank?
Hood: I don’t know but, man, it’s kind of unsettling knowing that a giant rabbit with dead eyes is watching you perform.
~Depth pops to his feet. Warren looks eager to head outside the ring. He starts to step through the ropes when a well-placed kick hits him in the ribs!! Warren grimaces and pauses. The crowd is like “OH SHIT”. He turns around, annoyed. Depth’s eyes widen. He extends his hands as an overt act of submission. He tries apologizing. He tries bargaining~
Smith: That man has nothing to bargain with
Hood: I’m sure he’s got SOMETHING of value. He does have a pretty thick head of hair
Smith: Well, there is that
~Depth continues to plead. He says something along the lines of “We can make a Muffles movie! We can call it Murphy the Body! I’ll pay for everything! We’ll split it 50/50!” Warren grabs Depth by the right wrist. “Okay! Okay! 60/40!” Warren grabs Depth by the left wrist. “FINE! 70/30!”~
Smith: John E Depth isn’t much of a negotiator
Hood: No shit…a few minutes from now he’ll be paying Warren Lapierre to make this supposed Murphy the Body film
~”Wait! Wait! 80/20! That’s my final offer!” Warren is about to hit him with IL TAV ID. “Did I say final offer? I meant to say that I’d be pleased to go 90…” SMACK! Warren yanks Depth in and drills him with a rip cord high knee!! Depth’s body goes limp. He falls to the mat. Warren makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…WARREN LAPIERRE!!!!!
Smith: Dominating performance by Warren. I think we’re about to see Lapierre go on a run!
Hood: Like a jog?
Smith: No you idiot…I think he’s about to start winning a bunch of matches. I think we could see Lapierre in the main event in the future
Smith: Oh, cool…let’s hope he puts some pants on for his championship photo…if he manages to win one of the belts
~Warren pops to his feet and heads right back toward the side of the ring nearest the Muffles spectator. He looks out into the crowd but can’t find Muffles. The seat where Muffles had been sitting is now empty. Warren looks around, confused~
Smith: The Muffles impersonator is gone! Did anybody see where he went?
Hood: Nope, we were all too fascinated by Depth’s negotiating skills
Smith: Ugh…will this NEVER end?
Hood: I don’t know, man. But if I were Warren I’d watch my back and the next time this Muffles creep comes near me…I’d kick its ass.
Smith: I’m sure this is all leading somewhere. At least I hope.
Hood: Yea or it could just dissolve into the ether like 67% of all wrestling storylines
Smith: Let’s hope not!
~We cut backstage to where Who'Re is waiting for the camera to come on. She takes extra seconds to notice the light, checking her makeup in the reflection, before she finally realizes that she's on.~
Who'Re: I'm here with a wrestler who has taken OCW by force the last month. He is one-half of the OCW Tag-Team Champions, Vincent "The Legend" Langston!
~The camera zooms out to show Langston seated nearby, with a bunch of different objects in front of him. The crowd is split, with some cheering the partner of Melinda Rhodes, while others are still not pleased with Langston's methods in the ring. It's been an ongoing reaction. Langston does not look up as he is too busy studying what is in front of him.~
Who'Re: So how's it feel, wearing your first championship in wrestling? The Legendary Trifecta earned those belts and now you're just waiting for your next competition, right?
~Langston doesn't say anything. He doesn't look up. Who'Re looks confused, thinking that Langston had accepted an interview request. She tries again.~
Who'Re: Langston, last week you beat Warren Lapierre to earn an OCW Savage Championship match against Iggy Hardy at Serial Thrillers. How are you feeling at getting this opportunity?
~Langston finally looks up at the mention of the Savage Championship, then goes back to the table in front. He picks up one of the objects.~
Langston: I'd be willing to bet you know what this is.
Who'Re: Is this a trick question? That's a bat.
Langston: Affirmative. Actually it's a Marucci Pro Cut Maple baseball bat. Very sturdily built. It can take a lot of impact.
~Langston stands up with the bat, admiring it. Who'Re takes a step back remembering that Langston hasn't been the stablest wrestler in the locker room.~
Langston: I've been in a lot of fights in my day. Bare knuckle. Boxing. Hand-to-hand. And I always craved the next fight. That's why I came to OCW in the first place. That's why I teamed with Rhodes. It meant I could... let loose what builds up inside. But I hadn't taken it to the next level. You know the Savage fights are No Disqualification?
Who'Re: Yes, they almost always...
Langston: And you know, in a Savage Title match, this baseball bat, it would be legal.
~Langston takes a few practice swings as Who'Re and the camera back up a little bit. It's not that large a locker room. Langston then leans over, picking up another box off the table.~
Langston: I could even take it up a level and add on a few more parts.
~Langston opens the box and pours the nails inside out onto the table. They land next to what appears to be a wrapped thread of barbed wire. There is also a bottle of lighter fluid and a package of matches. Langston picks up a nail and considers it, tapping on the sharp side. Who'Re is looking towards the door, wondering why management put her in this situation.~
Who'Re: I can see you're busy with your crafting supplies, Mr. Langston, I'll go ahead and go.
Langston: It's something to think about, isn't it? Any weapon I want. Anything goes. And blood... blood is completely expected, isn't it? It should be flowing, to make the fans happy. To make them cheer. Isn't that right?
~Who'Re doesn't want to answer now, as she's signalling to the camera to cut the feed. Instead, the camera follows Langston as the Legend walks towards the door, absentmindedly pushing Who'Re out of the way.~
Langston: The fans love violence, don't they? They love it when people get injured and still fight on. I've seen it again and again. I saw it when Iggy Hardy bled freely while fighting The Lost Soul last month, going through all those mirrors. They loved him for it. So why should I hold back? Why should I keep it inside?
~Langston pushes open the locker room door and walks out into the hallway. The cameraman follows, although Who'Re tries to hold him back. She stays in the locker room, barring the door, as the camera goes after Langston. A few people walk by, but immediately turn and go in the other direction. Only one person is left, with his back turned: Shootah. He's finishing off one of the free, ancient sandwiches that always get put out by the staff. Who knows where they come from. Shootah turns and sees Langston approaching him, and he realizes that he's now all alone. He starts to choke on the last bite of sandwich, and turns to run away, but it's too late, as Langston lashes out with the bat, catching Shootah across the back of the head!~
Hood: Holy shit!
Smith: Shootah's in the wrong place at the wrong time!
~Langston brings the top of the bat down repeatedly onto Shootah's back, and we can hear someone screaming for help down the hall. Langston's face is expressionless, which makes it more terrifying somehow. He lifts Shootah up by one arm and turns him, looking into his eyes. Shootah looks out of it, and the blood can be seen coming through his hair. Langston then lifts Shootah up and throws him through the food table with a gutwrench suplex, sending remnants of sandwiches everywhere. Shootah is left in the pile, not moving, while Langston stares at the blood now showing on his hands. A glimpse of confusion appears, but it soon fades, as Langston shakes it off and walks away, departing from the destruction. After he leaves, people rush in from where they were hiding to work on Shootah. Behind them, as the camera circles around, we hear the locker room doorknob turn. The door opens slightly, enough for Who'Re to look out.~
Who'Re: Is he gone?
~The camera gives a nod so Who'Re comes out, looking shocked at what happened. We go back to ringside.~
Hood: As if that fucker wasn't scary enough before.
Smith: A completely random attack from the Legend, and we may not be seeing Shootah in the ring for some time!
Hood: There's a silver lining, at least.
Smith: We need Melinda Rhodes to find her partner, because she's the only one who's ever been able to control his anger. But after what Bruce Rage & Jacob Hotstuff did to her last week, she might be the one who needs to be restrained.
Singles Match
Solomon Cain (1-0) vs. Siobhan Townsend (1-0)
~The crowd is chatting about the upcoming season finale of Better Call Saul that they’ve all DVR’d. Well, aside from this one guy who thinks the Saul they are talking about is that character from the Bible. He keeps asking how people are going to call a DEAD GUY. Belvedere clears his throat. The crowd goes wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The opening, pulsating beat of 'Control' hits the sound system as the overhead lights dim. Lights in various shades of blue flicker into being, moving with the rhythm of the music. The backbeat kicks in as the Requiem strides out from behind the curtain, her expression a focused mask of neutrality that betrays nothing as to what she is thinking. Siobhan Townsend's head turns, her gaze taking in the crowd and her surroundings much the way a sniper would scan over a battlefield with a piercing gaze. Once she is satisfied that all is as it should be, she begins her walk to the ring. It's a no-muss, no-fuss sort of affair for her--the fans ignored due to her focus resting solely upon the ring. It's about at the bottom of the ramp that she speeds up, a sudden burst of speed all the more she needs to slide into the ring on her stomach. Quickly regaining her feet, the final three words of the chorus (such as it is) sounding out as she pops up to her feet~
~There is no pandering to the fans, no indicator of paying them any mind--instead? Siobhan simply makes her way to the corner, waiting in silence while her music fades.~
Belvedere: From Cleveland, Ohio…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 160lbs…Siobhan Townsend!!
Smith: Siobhan Townsend, everyone. She made quite the impact about a month ago but has fallen silent ever since.
Hood: I heard a rumor she became a mute.
Smith: Scuse me?
Hood: Hey man I said it was only a rumor!
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The lights in the arena go out. Ain't no easy way begins to play over the PA. As the guitar riffs kick in a spot flight cuts through he darkness to the top of the entrance way. Solomon Cain stands there with his head down, and his hair draped over his face. Solomon snaps his head back, throwing his hair back and exposing his face. Solomon slowly exhales a puff of smoke and marches to the ring~
Belvedere: From Cleveland, Ohio…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 255lbs…Solomon Cain!!!
Smith: Two competitors from Cleveland
Hood: Oh no
Smith: What?
Hood: That means this match is going to suck!
Smith: How do you figure that?
Hood: Cleveland is, like, the worst sports city. Good luck finding one good athlete there…let alone two!
Smith: I hope you’re wrong
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~
Smith: It wasn’t all that long ago when Siobhan Townsend was destined for great things in OCW
Hood: She was recently suspended, right?
Smith: Yes…this is her first match post suspension
Hood: And she’s facing the son of Outcast. The wrestler. Not the…
Smith: Yes, Hood, the wrestler Outcast. Not the musician.
Hood: There’s a musician named Outcast?!
Smith: Of course there is! Isn’t that who you were about to reference?
Hood: I was talking about Outcast the vigilante!
Smith: I’ve never heard of him
~Siobhan doesn’t waste any time! She rushes toward Cain, flying through the air with a splash! Cain absorbs the blow while standing in his corner. Townsend unleashes a flurry of forearms to the chin of Cain, hoping to stagger the big man. Cain takes in each blow with tremendous aplomb. He’s not rattled. The blows are having little impact~
Smith: Townsend trying to snare the early advantage. It doesn’t appear to be working
Hood: Cain is a big fucker. She should probably kick him in the shin or the dick if she wants all this energy she’s expending to make a difference
Smith: Indeed. Siobhan does not want to get into a brawl with Solomon Cain
~Townsend grows frustrated that her blows aren’t having more of an impact. She leaps up, onto Cain and tries punching him in the face. Cain holds her in the air and finally decides he’s had enough. He leans in with a huge head butt!! His forehead SMASHES into her chin! He tosses her halfway across the ring with a powerbomb! She lands hard! The crowd grimaces. Things don’t look good~
Smith: And that is why a person like Siobhan does not want to brawl with Solomon Cain
Hood: Man he just tossed that bitch into another county! That guy is strong
Smith: Indeed…a physically imposing specimen with something to prove. Cain is a dangerous man
~Siobhan rolls onto all fours. She’s shaky. He stares at the mat, dazed. Cain charges forward and kicks her in the side of the head!! Siobhan flips onto her back, eyes shut. She appears to be knocked out. Cain stands over here in a dominant posture~
Smith: Oh man…Siobhan could be concussed after that kick
Hood: Which sucks because women are, ya know, dumb enough as it is. They don’t need any additional brain damage
Smith: Would you lay off the softer sex?
Hood: Hell no. I prefer to lay on them
Smith: oi vey
~Cain moves with great purpose. He violently yanks Townsend to her feet. She can barely stand. He pulls her in and DRILLS her with a Rainmaker lariat!!! Townsend’s body falls to the mat violently. The back of her head hits the hardest. If she weren’t out before she’s definitely out now. Scruff bends over, checking on her~
Smith: Scruff may want to call this one. I think Townsend is in danger of suffering some significant cerebral damage
Hood: And this is why you don’t cross the boss!
Smith: She was merely exposing Welsh’s corruption. She was doing us all a favor
Hood: I believe CAIN is the one doing us a solid.
~Cain could do more damage to Siobhan but what’s the point? He’s made his message very clear. So he snares Siobhan and hooks her for a piledriver. He’s got one move left to execute. He probably shouldn’t drop Siobhan with this move but he needs to get it over. The OCW audience and the OCW wrestlers need to fear his CTE Driver. So Cain hoists Siobhan up and drops her on her head with a Package Piledriver (CTE Driver)! The crowd pops for the impact of the devastating maneuver. Although it’s pretty obvious they feel some sympathy for Siobhan. After all, she might be dead. Cain makes the cover. Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…SOLOMON CAIN!!!!!
Smith: Dominating performance by Cain. He’s every bit the talent his father was…if not more so
Hood: I’ve seen this fucker wrestle twice and, honestly, I can’t see anyone on the roster…outside of the CHAMP…who is capable of keeping him down
Smith: Big things are ahead for Cain. That much is obvious. As for Siobhan…well
Hood: She kinda sucks. It’s eerily reminiscent of Kestrel
Smith: Yes, Kestrel was a huge disappointment and it’s appearing as though Siobhan will be more of the same.
Hood: You just can’t trust these blondes not named Hellraven
Smith: Indeed.
~We cut backstage. It’s the back parking lot where all the OCW employees keep their vehicles. Zybala exits the building with a look of focus. The crowd inside pops huge! We see a bandage on his forehead from the cut he suffered during last week’s OCW Title match~
Smith: There’s our commissioner! Nice to see he’s okay
Hood: Speak for yourself!
~Zybala is met in the parking lot by OWLIE THE OWL. Owlie flaps its wings while talking in an animated fashion with Zybala. Zybala nods along thoughtfully as though this were the most poignant conversation in history. Owlie’s wings stop flapping. He lets out a HOOT~
Smith: Interesting visual
Hood: I’m not sure which person I’m supposed to take LESS serious. On one hand you have a giant owl. On the other hand you have Zybala.
~Owlie waves Zybala over. They head toward an RV! The crowd goes wild! Whenever there is an RV backstage we all know who’s inside. Owlie opens the door to the RV. Several mangy cats scurry out. Zybala does his best to dodge them~
Smith: Haha! Oh my! Alice you are something!
Hood: This woman has GOT to have some type of disease. She shouldn’t be allowed inside a ring. Living with mangy cats? Are you serious? And look at the wheels of her RV! They are surrounded by ant piles!
Smith: She is a friendly neighbor to all walks of life, Hood
~Zybala enters into the RV. Owlie looks around, making sure nobody is near to listen in or spy on the proceedings. Owlie lets out a HOOT and slams the door shut~
Smith: I think it’s pretty obvious that Zybala is meeting with Alice Knight to discuss this new FACE of OCW match Welsh set up a week ago
Hood: Ugh…can someone go out there and bomb that RV? Two birds, one stone
Smith: Is that some sort of joke against OWLS?
Hood: Oh I forgot about the fucking owl. Three birds, one stone!
Smith: I’m just happy to see that Alice is backstage. OCW is a better place with Alice than without
Hood: Zybala is going to try and fuck up this entire thing, isn’t he? Welsh goes out and signs the biggest Free Agent in wrestling only for Zybala to stick his stupid face into the situation. Let nature take its course! Keep things Organic by allowing Welsh to put the new FACE of OCW over Alice Knight!
Smith: That sounds like any and everything BUT organic, Hood
Hood: Fuck off
~Fade in to the bell ringing and Referee Scruff standing in the ring along with Nanook and his guy, Captain DILLIGAF. Some of the crowd is trickling back to their seats after taking a piss/concession break during one of the backstage bits. Belvedere climbs in the ring with his trusty mic as Joe Jones and his guy, Armbar Armstrong make their way down to the ring. Since this match isn’t going to be on TV, no stinking theme music!~
~Belvedere and Scruff have a quick discussion and Scruff goes over to check out The Captain’s gear, you know, make sure he doesn’t have anything illegal.~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to OCW’s Monday Night Massacre! The following contest is a Contract for Contract match! Who ever loses this match, their contract will become the property of the winner’s agent.
~The sound of headphones being put on is heard as Smith and Hood get ready to go to work. Smith clears his throat.~
Smith: Okay! So….
Hood: Yes. Can’t believe we’re doing this right now.
Smith: Well this match will be seen on our YouTube channel.
Hood: I’m sure some of our fans will want to know the outcome of this match up.
~Scruff, good with his pat down on The Captain now heads over and checks out Armstrong as Joe gives him some last second words of encouragement.~
Smith: This match was made during the week as Joe Jones, who we know is the agent to OGDA, who later tonight will face Uberman.
Hood: A match I’m sure several of our fans can’t wait to see.
Smith: His guy Armbar Armstrong, whom we saw last week defeat the Captain.
Hood: That was a wicked armbar he applied.
Smith: It was. Armbar got under the skin of Nanook, who, as my crack research team has informed me, used to be OGDA’s manager, and, at one time, the manager to Joe Jones.
Hood: hmmmm
Smith: Joe stole OGDA away from Nanook in Mexico they tell me, and so those two have beef.
Hood: Actually, they have had beef long before OGDA got in the picture. They have not liked each other for a couple of years now. If you read the notes Smith, Nanook screwed Joe over in a contract when Joe was in Knoxville a while back.
Smith: Money, it is the root of all evil.
Hood: True that.
Smith: So now, coming off of what happened last week, These two have a bet. If Joe’s guy Armstrong can beat the Captain, which, from what I remember last week, is highly likely, Joe gets The Captain’s contract and to be honest, I don’t know what you do with that. He’s not what I would consider a money maker.
Hood: I would want Armstrong’s contract through.
Smith: Yes. That kid has a future.
~Scruff is good with his pat down on Armbar. He calls for the bell as Joe pats him on the shoulder and exits the ring.~
Belvedere: In this corner! Weighing in at 285 pounds, from Santa Clara California, He doesn’t care what you think! He’s the Captain, Captain DILLIGAF!
~Nanook raises the Captain’s arm to mostly boos. Nanook has a few words with him and then calls for Scruff the ref.~
Belvedere: AND HIS OPPONENT!
~A couple of cheers.~
Belvedere: Weighing in at 203 pounds, from Tampa Bay Florida! He will stretch you, he will make you tap! He is ARMBAR ARMSTRONG!
~Armbar raises his fists in the air. Nanook has his arm around Scruff’s shoulder and is talking to him about something. Armbar removes his red robe, one that a boxer would wear, nothing fancy. He tosses that out of the ring, The Captain meanwhile, still has everything on, his biker vest, biker gloves, chaps, the whole get up.~
Hood: What could Nanook be talking to Scruff about?
Smith: I have no idea. Joe, going over to see for himself….
~Joe wanders around the ring to see what in hell Nanook is doing. Armbar walks up to the Captain in the middle of the ring to do a little trash talking. The Captain has his one hand in his pants pocket. Joe starts yelling at Nanook to get out of the ring and Nanook lifts one of his titanic legs over the second rope, all the while barking at Joe and holding onto Scruff.~
Hood: Nanook needs to just get out of the ring, I don’t get what he is doing….OH MY! WHAT THE HELL!
Smith: WHAT WAS THAT!
~The Captain quickly removes his hand from his pocket and slugs Armbar Armstrong! Cold cocks him! KO hims! Armbar crashes to the mat looking at the back of eyelids. The Captain disguards whatever was in his hand and pins Armbar, hooking the leg! Nanook spins Scruff around just as The Captain goes for the pin and points it out. Scruff quickly throws himself on the mat!~
Hood: Are you serious? Is this happening!
~Joe tries to get into the ring to stop the count!~
~Nanook blocks him as he’s still in the ring!~
~Scruff counts!~
1!!!!
~Joe can’t make the save!~
2!!!!!
~The Captain is really getting booed!~
3!!!!!!
~Scruff calls for the bell! Joe can’t believe! He slams his fist on the mat! Nanook laughs in his face!~
Belvedere: YOUR WINNER! THE CAPTAIN!
~Boos. So many boos. The cameraman finds what he tossed out of the ring on the floor.~
Hood: The Captain had brass knuckles! He cheated!
Smith: It happened so quickly, I didn’t see it.
Hood: Nanook just screwed Joe yet again!
Smith: To be honest, I hear that Joe is into that sort of thing.
~After Nanook raises The Captain’s hand in victory, he has the Captain kick Armstrong’s lifeless body over to the ropes, where he then hops down out of the ring and slings Armbar Armstrong over his shoulder and starts to carry his prize back towards the back. Joe is pissed. Nanook just waves at him as he slowly walks backwards up the ramp towards the back, with a huge smile on his face.~
Hood: Oh! This story is far from over. There is no way Joe is going to let Nanook get away with this! No way!
Smith: On the other hand, Nanook has the makings of a pretty good tag team for OCW now.
Hood: No he doesn’t! No way does Armbar tags with The Captain!
Smith: He has too! It’s in his contract!
~Slowly fade out with Joe bending over picking up the brass knuckles…..~
~Footage of the merchandise table is shown in the jumbotron. But it's a complete mess. There are purple dildos and Matt Meyhu action figures all over the place. The table is broken and a person is on top of it. Paramedics are attending to him. The camera does a close up and it looks to be a fan~
Smith: I just got word about what happened. People are saying Tony the Spider snapped and attacked a customer who was making a complaint about the price of the Matt Meyhu calendars.
Hood: it's that roid rage. Is there a visual on Tony?
Smith: they say he ran off like a mad man. I would suspect a suspension is coming . He can't attack a fan like that.
Hood: the customer is not always right...
Singles Match
Hellraven (2-3) vs. Talia Areano (5-6)
~The crowd is chilling like villains. But good villains. Not bad villains. Maybe even kind villains. Like a misunderstood villain. Or a villain with heroic motives that have just been carried out in a very poorly formed fashion. Regardless, they be chillin. Then…Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~"Taking Over Me" by Evanescence hits. Talia Areano rushes down the ramp and into the ring, ready to fight~
Belvedere: From Buenos Aires, Argentina…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 125lbs…Talia Areano!
~Areano backs into her corner, ready for action~
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The sounds of a thunderstorm echo across the arena speakers as purplish-blue spotlights come to life near the entrance ramp. At their centre, head down, arms folded, is a tall and slender figure, their long hair falling forward onto their face and partially obscuring it.~
~The figure remains in this position until a moment later, when the rainstorm transitions into the iconic opening guitar lead to Slayer's 'Raining Blood'. At the same time as this transition occurs, the blue spotlights go out, leaving the house lights to illuminate what is now clearly seen to be a young woman. As the riff begins, she uncrosses her arms, holding them out to each side in a double show of the metal horns as she indulges in a spot of headbanging~
~Then, as the legendary lead gives way to mid-tempo riffing, the girl makes her way down the ramp, keeping her focus on the ring but not neglecting the occasional outstretched hand in her path. Once at ringside, she scales the steel steps and lets herself in through the middle rope. From there, she makes her way across the mat to the furthest turnbuckle and slumps down into a seated position, her arms resting on her knees. She retains this position right up until the bell rings, at which point she stands up and coolly removes her leather jacket, before stepping forward to start the match~
Belvedere: From Tokyo, Japan…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 130lbs…Hellraven!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~
Smith: Both of these competitors needs a win. Areano enjoyed a two match winning streak before dropping her last two. Meanwhile Hellraven is coming off a close but disappointing loss to OGDA.
Hood: At least the crazy kid Hellraven isn’t quitting. That’s nice to see. Areano…I just don’t know, man. She’s very up and down.
Smith: Indeed she is…but we’ve seen inconsistent wrestlers find consistency later in their careers. Could tonight be the night Areano comes into her own? Or will Hellraven take another step in the right direction?
Hood: Why don’t we quit talking about it and find out!
~Hellraven doesn’t waste any time! She rushes toward Areano and throws lefts and rights at the veteran. Areano backs against the ropes, reeling from Hellraven’s aggressiveness. Raven shoots Areano off the ropes. Areano flies across the ring. She bounces off the ropes. Hellraven comes at her with a spear. Areano leap frogs the spear attempt! Raven stumbles into the ropes and turns around. Areano leaps into the air and kicks Raven in the head with a Pele Kick!! Raven falls to the mat and rolls out of the ring, holding her head in pain~
Smith: If there’s one thing you can definitively say about Hellraven it’s that she’s aggressive
Hood: No shit…she looked like a virgin sprinting for home. Easy, tiger…slow down, otherwise you’re gonna make a big mess of a wonderful situation
Smith: Memories
~Areano is back on her feet. She sprints for the ropes and dives through the second and middle rope with a suicide dive!!! She connects with a shoulder into Raven!! Raven flies back against the barricade with great force!! Areano returns to her feet! She looks fired up! Hellraven falls to her knees~
Smith: Areano is looking strong! This resembles the Talia who won two matches in a row near the end of September!
Hood: No shit man she came out here with a fucking purpose
Smith: A special purpose
Hood: Now let’s see if that special purpose has a happy ending
~Areano throws some stiff kicks into Raven’s chest. She grabs Raven by the hair, jerks her to her feet and tosses Raven back into the ring under the bottom rope. Areano quickly rolls in behind Raven. Hellraven gets to all fours. Areano hops back to her feet. Raven is able to stand…but she’s wobbly. Areano knees Raven in the gut and drops her with an Implant DDT!!! Raven flips onto her back. Areano goes for the pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!
Smith: Kick out by Hellraven! She’d better get some offense going or this could be a nightmarish performance
Hood: Yea nothing against Areano but if Hellraven loses this one…I don’t know man.
Smith: Well said, Hood
Hood: blah blah blah
~Areano remains undeterred. She pulls Hellraven to her feet and whips her into a nearby corner. Raven hits hard. Areano fires up! She yells out and sprints toward Raven! Areano flies into the air with a splash! But Raven greets her with a jumping knee!! It hits Areano right in the face! There is a loud SMACK! Areano stumbles backward, dazed. Raven charges forward and belts Areano in the face with a Bicycle Kick!!! Areano falls to the mat hard! Hellraven drops to one knee still recovering from Areano’s initial onslaught~
Smith: There we go! Hellraven is fighting back!
Hood: It was only a matter of time…that kid is a competitor
Smith: Indeed.
~Raven gets to her feet. Areano is sitting up. Raven dives forward with a knee! Areano ducks!! Raven slides across the ring on her knees nearly hitting the middle buckle with her head. She returns to her feet. A charging Areano is what she finds once she turns around. She ducks and Areano throws an errant clothesline that’s met by the top buckle! She holds her arm in pain and turns around, leaning back in the corner~
Smith: A miss by Talia!
Hood: Misfires aren’t good…unless you’re barebacking a crazy bitch
Smith: Good heavens, man!
Hood: I’m just saying. Crazy bitches are the last bitches you want to impregnate
~Raven rushes in and leaps up for a hurricanrana! Areano, though, shows tremendous upper body strength by hoisting Raven up, preventing her from rotating backward. Areano looks to powerbomb Raven. Raven, though, snares the top rope with her hand. Areano charges forward but Hellraven is able to pull herself up and over Areano’s head! She lands feet first into the corner, her back facing the center of the ring. Talia stumbles forward with nothing to powerbomb. She turns around, frustrated~
Smith: Great move by Hellraven! She’s got tremendous ring awareness. That’s something that cannot be taught
Hood: Are you calling her a prodigy?
Smith: I believe I am
Hood: Remember the old prodigy browser/internet? I used to talk to bitches all night on that thing.
Smith: Hmm
Hood: Yea, now I feel totally lame
~Talia charges at Raven. Hellraven turns around, leaps up and delivers a Frankensteiner to Talia!! Talia crashes face first into the middle buckle!! The crowd goes wild! Raven was able to avoid any sort of disastrous landing due to her slight frame and agility. She scurries toward the center of the ring before heading to the opposite buckle, fired up! Talia reaches for the top rope, trying to pull herself back to a standing position. The crowd is on their feet in full support of the kid, Hellraven~
Smith: She looks poised to send Talia to the back with her third straight loss!
Hood: Holy shit man that frankensteiner was out of nowhere! This chick can go
Smith: Indeed she can…I believe she’s anticipating sending Talia crashing with Nevermore!
Hood: Hey, what do you call a poetic hooker?
Smith: I don’t know
Hood: Edgar Allan Ho!
~Talia gets to her feet and leans into the corner, fazed. Hellraven charges forward, across the ring and she DRILLS Areano in the head with a Yakuza Corner Kick (Nevermore)!!! Talia stumbles forward before falling face first on the mat! Hellraven turns her over and makes the cover! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….HELLRAVEN!!!!!
Smith: Big win for Hellraven! She needed that one
Hood: Yea man the kid did well. Her friends and family will be proud
Smith: Indeed! Every win is not only a move in the right direction for Hellraven but it’s also a valuable learning experience
Hood: Learning on the job. That’s the best way to learn, they say.
Smith: Yea it’s not a bad strategy if you can avoid losing too much during the process. As for Talia…another tough defeat. We can only hope she’s able to figure out what’s wrong and get it fixed before too much in ring damage is accrued
Hood: Hey, at least she’s still hot
~As the victor is announced, the two competitors slowly begin a rise to their feet. Talia Areano is resting on the mat while Hellraven is using the ropes~
Smith: You can’t deny the fact that Talia did some damage to Hellraven
Hood: Oh yea she kicked her in the head at least once
~Parts of the crowd suddenly begin making noise, heads turning as within a second somebody has slid into the ring! Somebody from the crowd has made their way into the ring! We can't see who it is thanks to a black generic hoodie they're wearing!~
Smith: What is this? WHO is that?!
Hood: A savior, that’s who!
~Within an instant the individual has run up to Talia Areano, stood up on her knee and drops a heavy heel to the back of her head! The thud is so loud the crowd winces in response! The individual's hood hasn't fallen off yet but we can identify it's a male!~
Smith: What is that man doing? Talia’s been through enough! Leave her alone!
Hood: He’s knocking some sense into that tiny female brain
Smith: You really are the worst
Hood: Oh I’m far from the worst
~Hellraven has had just seconds to process what has happened before the hooded man has rolled over his back after landing and is back on his feet. He sees Hellraven as we catch a slight glimpse of the face but we can't make out who it is!
~They charge at Hellraven and unleash a bicycle knee strike to the head that stuns Hellraven! She tried to block it but it wasn't enough. Instead, the arm is grabbed by the individual and she's quickly lifted up into a Pumphandle! Within a split second she's spun into a Death Valley Driver with the hooded individual standing tall! We can see a tiny trickle of blood emerge from the back of Talia Areano's head while the crowd boo's the individual~
Smith: We need some help out here! Talia is busted open!
Hood: I disagree…I think we’re currently getting the help we need
Smith: You vile, vile man! Hellraven was all set to celebrate a big win and then this happens! It’s disgusting!
~The unknown individual is now holding the mic he demanded and begins a shouting fest. He's right in the face of Talia Areano~
??: "You think this is how you would bleed if I wanted you to!? A TINY bitch cut from a fucking heel!? Where the fuck do you think you are!?"
~The individual quickly turns his attention to the other laid out woman in the ring. Hellraven. He grabs a hand full of hair.
??: "And who the fuck do you think YOU are!? You're the prodigy everyone should be so fucking afraid of!? Thinking you're special 'cus you live in Japan!? I've mastered the art of wrestling there, you can't hold a candle to it, you starry-eyed brat!"
~The crowd boo's, but as the commentators want to do their job we suddenly see the hoodie come off and be thrown out of the ring~
??: "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I AM!?"
Smith: Oh my gosh! Is that…could it be?!
Hood: Looks familiar but you know how I am with names. Right, Stan
Smith: My name is Smith!
??: "I am the Caged Evolution Wrestling prodigy! I am the former and last great BFW Carnage Champion! I am the inaugural and only relevant 4CW Octane Champion! My arrival in this place alone has put eyes on this show that will follow me just on the basis of being here! C'mon! Prove me fucking wrong! Do you know who I am yet!? I! AM! VOSSLER!"
~The crowd continues their boo's, but it appears Vossler couldn't care any less as he turns his attention to the audience. Portions of the crowd begin a 'Fuck you Vossler' chant.
Vossler: "C'mon! Chant it louder! Is that the only line you motherfuckers have that you can throw at me!? You should be thanking me! Me being here has made motherfuckers watch this show religious now for my every appearance! YOU! OWE! ME!"
~The boo's become ear deafening, but Vossler appears to have one last thing to say.
Vossler: "YOU ARE WELCOME!"
~The microphone is thrown into the canvas as we hear it pop, potentially break. With his arms raised proudly after rolling out of the ring, Vossler begins his march up the ramp as we see the text on the back of his shirt read 'You're Welcome OCW'. A loud and clear message~
Smith: Vossler has arrived in OCW! My gosh!
Hood: Hey, I kind of like this guy.
Smith: What he just did…what he said…completely uncalled for! Hellraven is still learning the craft of professional wrestling. She’s had a rough go here in OCW. Why couldn’t he go about things in a more professional manner? Allow the woman to enjoy her win and then issue a verbal challenge.
Hood: Because he’s not a fucking pussy ya dork. He came out here to make a statement. The statement has been made. And if I were a wrestler in OCW…after having witnessed THAT…I’d be very aware of Vossler.
Smith: It was impactful, no doubt about that. I just disagree with his method. I’m sure Hellraven will have something to say about this next week
Hood: You have to hand it to Welsh. He continues signing the best talent in the world
Smith: Vossler is immensely talented, there’s no denying that. He will no doubt enjoy success here in OCW
~Backstage, Ezra Rosenberg stands at a podium, addressing the media. A sea of chairs sit opposite him, but only five or six have people in them.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Without further delay, the OCW Champion, Matt Meyhu.
~Ezra claps for Meyhu, who makes his way to the podium. He places the OCW Championship on the table next to him, facing the crowd. The one man round of applause fades out as Meyhu takes his place.~
Matt Meyhu: Thank you for attending this event here tonight. As promised, I have a huge announcement to make here tonight. Before I get to that, I would like to thank all of my fans for their support through my countless title defenses. It seems like every week I’m out there defending this thing. I do it all for you! And me, obviously.
Who’Re: What’s the announcement?
Matt Meyhu: Ah, always the go-getter you are! I appreciate your hustle.
~Who’Re sits in the front row alone. She is holding a recorder up toward Matt. She shrugs off his compliment.~
Matt Meyhu: Customary to say ‘thank you’ but whatever, we’ll move on. This title means the world to me. I understand it’s importance. I value it more than anybody else ever could. And that is why, I am defending it yet again. This title deserves to be defended! That’s what I intend to do.
Who’Re: So you’re defending it again before Serial Thrillers?
Matt Meyhu: What? Don’t be crazy. Don’t I deserve a little time to rest?! Come on. I’m defending it at Serial Thrillers.
Who’Re: We already knew that.
Matt Meyhu: What do you mean?
Who’Re: Everyone in this room… Everyone in this arena knew you were defending it at Serial Thrillers.
Matt Meyhu: Okay, sure, obviously the title is going to be on the line at an event that big. No brainer, right? But you don’t know who I’m defending it against, do you smarty pants?
~Matt and Who’Re both say ‘Chad Vargas’ at the exact same time.~
Matt Meyhu: Wha-
Who’Re: We know! This isn’t breaking news. What is this press conference even for?
Matt Meyhu: Any questions from anyone other than Whore?
Who’Re: What did you call me?
Matt Meyhu: Whore.
Who’Re: Who’Re.
Matt Meyhu: Whore.
Who’Re: Who’Re.
~Matt shrugs.~
Matt Meyhu: I feel like we’re saying the same thing here.
Random Reporter: I have a question! Are you going to beat him?
Matt Meyhu: Great question!
Who’Re: That’s Ezra Rosenberg wearing a pair of glasses.
Random Reporter: Agree to disagree.
Matt Meyhu: Obviously I am going to beat him. I am going to humiliate him. Look at some of the names I have already beaten… The likes of Lukas Emery and John E. Depth. Those were real tests. This is my promise to all of my fans, I will retain yet again.
Who’Re: Judging by the attendance in this room, that’s a pretty empty promise.
Matt Meyhu: I’ve got… Hundreds of fans! This is closed to the media only, okay? How many fans do you have, Whore?!
~Ezra, no longer wearing his fake glasses, steps back on stage and nudges Matt away from the podium. He addresses the remaining members of the media.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Alright! I think we’ll call it good there. Thanks again for coming. Feel free to help yourself to the pack of saltines in the back, and whatever is left of that two liter of diet Sierra Mist. Take care everyone!
~Matt and Ezra look at each other and nod. That went well. Very well. Matt picks up his belt and poses for no one. Who’Re exits the room, annoyed.~
Who’Re: What a waste of time.
~The fans erupt as the Andrew W.K. hits the speakers. Mike Zybala comes out from behind the curtain and stands on the entrance way. ~
Hood: What is he doing here? I had hoped the shame he felt from his emphatic loss last week would have kept him in Alice’s RV.
Smith: Commissioner Zybala has more integrity and pride to let a loss keep him away.
~The music cuts off as Zybala raises a microphone to his face.~
Zybala: I'm going to make this short and sweet. I made a mistake last week. I thought a cage might keep people out of Meyhu's and my match, or at least keep the bullshit to a minimum. That was not the case. After a bunch of people who had no fucking business getting involved stuck their nose in my match, I unfortunately lost to Matt Meyhu. Normally I would just take the loss and move on. But not like that, not with all that interference.
That seems to be a growing trend here in OCW. Every match I've lost, it was because of interference. Look at all my matches and you will see that every loss was caused by someone other than my opponent. Last week was the last straw, I simply cannot move on. I've waited for FOUR YEARS to have a match with Meyhu and other people fucked that up for me. They ruined something special. So I'm here to say that Meyhu and I will have a rematch after Serial Thrillers. Not for the title, not for any prize other than getting the match we deserve!
Speaking of Serial Thrillers, I feel it would be karma if people got involved and fucked over Vargas like I was, but it's not going down like that. I am stating right now as OCW commissioner, if ANYONE interferes with the OCW Title match, they will be sorry. Because right now, I am announcing that I will be sitting at ringside as enforcer to this match, and by MY side will be a titanium alloy baseball bat that I have no problem breaking bones with. There will be a winner and there will be NO interference MARCUS and CASSIDY!
~Zybala drops the mic and heads out of the ring to a loud ovation from the fans~
Smith: Strong words from our commissioner. He’s obviously displeased with last week’s result.
Hood: Talk about a sore loser!
Smith: You’d be angry too if you had to endure all that Zybala’s endured. Welsh has made it very clear that he dislikes Zybala and will do whatever he can to make this job miserable for him
Hood: Sounds like pragmatism to me!
Smith: You jerk. But Zybala at ringside for the main event does add an interesting element
Hood: What if Zybala interferes? Is he going to hit himself with the bat?
Smith: I…I don’t know
~Scene fades in into the locker room where OGDA is seated in front of his locker with his back to the camera. His bestest friend in the whole wide world, Spartacus, his kitty kat is curled up on the bench next to him, the end of his little tail flicking now and then.~
~OGDA runs his hand over his bald head. That’s right folks, he’s not wearing his mask! I wonder who he is, what does he look like? I sure hopes he…..oh, wait. Nevermind.!
~OGDA slowly pulls his mask over his skull and starts to sing…..~
“You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine….”
~OGDA snaps his head from side to side….~
“You make me happy when skies are grey….”
~OGDA slides a tee shirt over his noggin…..~
“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you…..”
~OGDA stands up and loosens up his right shoulder by rolling his arm in a circle….~
“Please don’t take my sunshine away….”
~OGDA turns towards the camera. His white tee shirt reads: Not Afraid~
“Well Sparky, buddy. The time has come.”
~OGDA cracks his knuckles.~
“Time for Daddy to make a new friend.”
~OGDA leans over and gives Spartacus a quick pat on the head.~
"Maybe Uberman can give me a lift home after the show? Wouldn't that be nice?"
~OGDA steps over the bench and past the camera. Fade out~
Super Hero Special Match
OGDA (3-1) vs. The Uber Man (2-2)
~A fan dressed as Owlie the Owl is busy HOOTING and HOLLERING! The crowd seems enamored with him. I mean we are in between a segment and in-ring action so these fans need to stay occupied with some form of entertainment. Belvedere clears his throat. The crowd goes wild! They say ‘fuck this owl guy’ and focus on the ring~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is the Super Hero Special Match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~“Hero” by Nickelback hits! The crowd chants UUUUUBER. Uber Man sprints out from behind the curtain in his green, Uber Man costume. He sprints down the ramp and toward the ring steps. Once he reaches the ring steps he comes to a stop. He calmly walks up the steps and enters the ring before running around with his cape flapping behind him~
Belvedere: From Rancho Cucamonga, California…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 195lbs…The Uber Man!!!
~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 Shining 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: Introducing next…From the hearts of every Shining 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. Belvedere exits and the bell sounds.~
Smith: Well here it is, Hood. The clash of OCW super heroes
Hood: Only one of them looks like they could actually kick someone’s ass
Smith: Looks can be deceiving
Hood: You are selling your soul in trying to sell this match
~Uber marches toward OGDA and extends his hand with tremendous spirit. OGDA reaches out and accepts the handshake. The crowd applauds. Uber is beaming with ebullience! He feels accepted~
Smith: Nice show of sportsmanship. Of course that should be expected from two super heroes
Hood: Uber is such a nerd
Smith: He may not be the coolest block of ice in the freezer but at least he’s trying
Hood: After hearing what you just said you might give Uber a run for his money in the ‘uncool’ department
~OGDA turns his back to Uber. He seems to be enjoying the crowd’s positive reaction. Uber notices that OGDA has turned his back. He realizes this is a moment. This is HIS moment. This is an opportunity to show the world that he is the one, true super hero of OCW~
Smith: Uber’s got a wild look in his eye…ya know, wild as far as Uber goes
Hood: Oh man he’s about to do something stupid, isn’t he?
Smith: I’m not sure
Hood: I’m pretty sure. I mean continuing to breathe is a pretty stupid act for the guy so the odds of him doing something stupid here are pretty solid
~OGDA finally turns around. Uber yells out and charges in OGDA’s direction. He dives into OGDA’s body with a SPEAR!!! OGDA doesn’t move! He doesn’t flinch. Uber falls to the mat holding his shoulder in pain. He yells out “AHHHH!”~
Smith: Well, that didn’t work
Hood: OGDA countered the Uber spear with his abs of steel
Smith: Apparently so…poor Uber. He should probably hit the gym
Hood: With what? He’d break his hand
Smith: I mean he should lift weights…bulk up
Hood: Like Tony the Spider?
Smith: No, not like Tony the Spider
~Uber struggles to his feet, holding his shoulder like it’s broken. He turns around and is DRILLED with a spear from OGDA! The crowd goes “OOOHHHH!” during the impact!! Uber is nearly gutted. He’s on the mat, knocked out. OGDA pops to his feet, fired up~
Smith: Yikes
Hood: Well, at least Uber’s shoulder isn’t bothering him anymore
Smith: That is true
~OGDA grabs Uber by the bottom of his mask and yanks him to his feet. He instantly locks in a Coquina Clutch (Cloud 9). He falls back to the mat applying as much pressure as his giant muscles will allow. Scruff leans in to check on Uber~
Smith: Cloud 9! This one is over!
Hood: The match or Uber’s life?
Smith: Maybe both!
~Scruff sees that Uber is lifeless. So he instantly calls for the bell! The crowd pops! OGDA releases the hold immediately and pops to his feet~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…OGDA!!!!!
Smith: Dominating win….I think we can say that OGDA is the TRUE superhero of OCW
Hood: You seriously hadn’t figured that out until now?
Smith: Well, I mean I didn’t want to sell Uber short
Hood: So instead of selling him short you gave him way too much credit? MEET IN THE MIDDLE FOR ONCE MAN
~OGDA checks on Uber. He slides out of the ring and pulls Uber with him, carrying him to the back. The crowd gives OGDA a nice ovation, appreciating his efforts~
Smith: There’s a good, moral individual underneath that mask.
Hood: Blah
Smith: He wanted to win but he also didn’t want to hurt Uber. Hopefully once Uber gets to the back he wakes up and is okay
Hood: Maybe he’ll wake up with amnesia and forget this lunacy of being a wrestler slash uber driver and leave
Smith: OCW is a more entertaining place with the Uber Man! Hope all is well, Uber!
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!~
~After a moment, there's a knock at the door. Knux cracks it, looks out, then glances to Welsh~
Knux: Mack O'Connor?
~Welsh lets out a sigh, then gives a nod. Knux opens the door and steps aside. Mack calmly walks in, holding the old Paradigm Title belt in his hand. Welsh doesn't even look up, continuing to work on whatever it was he was working on~
Mack: Welsh.
Welsh: Mr. O'Connor. What can I do for you?
Mack: Look... I know I've been relatively MIA for a few weeks. It might be hard to believe, but I think I might have a drinking problem.
~Welsh looks up at Mack to see if he's joking: He's not~
Welsh: Oh... Yeah... Very hard to believe.
Mack: Anyway, I'm trying to take steps to make things right with everyone. So...
~Mack calmly places the Paradigm Title on the desk~
Mack: I'm returning this like you wanted.
~Welsh is not impressed~
Welsh: Last time I saw that was when you hit me in the face with it.
Mack: I blame the alcohol.
Welsh: Alcohol made you hit me with that belt?
Mack: Yep.
~Welsh shakes his head in disbelief, glances at the belt, then goes back to his work~
Welsh: Well, I appreciate the gesture but we already ordered a new one.
Mack: I'm sorry?
Welsh: It's worth nothing to me. It's a paperweight that fits around your waist.
Mack: You're saying I spent my own money to get this back from the pawn shop for nothing?
Welsh: Wait... You bought it back to hit me with it, or you bought it back to "do the right thing"?
~Mack thinks for a moment~
Mack: The timeline is a bit fuzzy.
Welsh: Whatever. Again, thanks but no thanks.
Mack: Where's the new belt?
Welsh: With the new champion.
~Mack's face grows red with anger~
Mack: There's a new Paradigm champion?
Welsh: Yes.
Mack: Who is it?
Welsh: Andrea Hernandez.
Mack: Who?
~Welsh looks up at Mack again, completely in disbelief~
Welsh: Are you serious? Have you been paying attention?
Mack: I'm not going to answer that question.
~Mack takes a flask from his coat, opens, and takes a large sip. Welsh rolls his eyes~
Mack: Hernandez, huh?
Welsh: Yep.
~Mack takes another swig, grabs the belt, and heads for the door. He and Knux size each other up for a moment, then Mack leaves. Knux shuts the door~
Greg: He was kinda cute. In a rough, brooding way.
~Welsh shoots a jealous glance at Greg~
Welsh: Excuse you.
~Greg shrugs and Welsh goes back to work~
*HUGE CROWD POP*
~"Walk on Water" by Ozzy Osbourne plays over the house P/A as out steps a man that hasn't been seen in a wrestling ring in three years and yet as stands out in front of that crowd, wearing a black sleeveless shirt "Wildkard" shirt, blue jeans, boots, and a microphone in hand, it's almost as if he'd never left professional wrestling. The near 50 year old looks incredibly fit, his long brown hair only showing modest signs of graying, though the salt and pepper stubble on his chin gave it all away. He smiles at the crowd, genuinely surprised that anyone still remembers him.~
Hood: Is that who I think it is?
Smith: Holy crap, that's "Wildkard" James Spade! I thought he wrestled his last match in 2016!
Hood: Yeah, his last match was against some clown in a place called Nah or something like that.
~Spade walks down to the ring and the fans reach out to him. He promptly high fives as many in passing as he can. His appreciation for the fans of the sport never died during his time away and it shows as he even stops to hug young children and sign a quick autograph or two.~
Hood: What a suck up!
Smith: No, that's straight up class. Few wrestlers are willing to take the time to appreciate their fans and clearly, James Spade has plenty of fans still around.
~In his mind, it's hard to leave the fans at ringside, but after making a trip around the ring (And flipping Hood off along the way with a smirk....)~
Hood: HEY FUCK YOU BUDDY!
Smith: Ahahahahahahaha!!!
~....Spade finally slips into the ring and hops to his feet with a bit of a youthful bounce in his step.~
Spade: Holy crap! WHAT'S UP KEY WWWWWWEEEEESSSSSTTT?!!!
*CHEAP POP*
Spade: I never thought I'd ever step into a wrestling ring again and if it were up to my wife, I'd stay out of the ring, but after last week, this old rogue saw a few things he didn't like.
Smith: Jimmy Spade getting down to business in a hurry.
Spade: Now my wife, as you know, is Melinda Rhodes...
*HUGE FACE NAME-DROP POP!*
~James nods to the crowd, a little grin briefly visiting his face before he returns to more serious matters.~
Spade: Now I consider myself the luckiest man alive to have that beautiful woman come home to me every week, but in this very ring I'm standing in right here, my wife got attacked.
*BOOOOOOOOOO*
Spade: I know, right? Total bumfest, it is what it is. Now I wish I was here for all you beautiful people that have the guts and nuts to call yourselves wrestling fans, but I'm here to kick some names and take some ass. You see, Jacob Hotstuff.... There's a little history between us. It's brief, but I already got him pegged as the nutless wonder that he is. I issued a challenge for him weeks ago on everybody's faaaavorite medium of communication, ye' old Twitter.
~Spade smirks a bit as he starts to pace the ring.~
Spade: Now, him, I'll catch at a later date because I know he doesn't have even half the scrotes required to come out here and face me, but I'll start with that big dumb son of a bitch following him around, Bruce Rage.
~James whips his head towards the entrance arch.~
Spade: HEY BRUCIE BABY! GET YOUR JUICED ASS OUT HERE! THERE'S WORK TO DO!!!
~Seconds tick by without an answer. Spade looks at the rather inexpensive black wrist-watch, stares at it for a moment and gives it a few taps. He then looks to the crowd and shrugs.~
Hood: Maybe they ain't here?
~Suddenly there's a camera transition as we find Bruce Rage storming his way through the backstage area. He's dressed casually and clearly not geared up to compete. In his hand is a microphone. Out onto the stage steps Bruce Rage and lets his music play for a few seconds, staring with great intensity at the Wildkard. Spade steps back and motions towards the center of the ring, then squats down, patting the mat to further emphasize that Bruce is more than invited. Finally Bruce chuckles and motions with a cut throat gesture to kill the music. He then brings the microphone to his lips.~
B.Rage: Oh lookie lookie, It's the one who wears the skirt in the relationship! The stay at home wife of Melinda Rhodes, James Spade! What kind of a man are you anyways? I'm surprised you didn't fully fall into the role you've fallen into and called yourself James Rhodes at this point. Let me ask you a question little man, what the fuck gives you any right to be in that ring tonight? YOU'RE RETIRED, BITCH!!!
~Spade rolls his tongue in his mouth and brings the microphone to his lips.~
Spade: Simple, I asked to be here. In fact, Mike Zybala wanted to pay me for my time but I said, "Nah, I'm good. I'm doing this one pro-bono" because the moment you step into this ring, your ass is mine kiddo. I'd call that more than enough pay to peek my interest.
~Being called a kid clearly sets Bruce to bristling on the spot, his grin turning into a savage scowl with less effort than the flip of a switch.~
B.Rage: Yeah your wife said the same thing before I left her spent and used right where you're standing. Old. Man.
Spade: If you called what you did last night fucking my wife, I feel sorry for any girlfriend you might have. Then again, when someone's dick is so microscopic that it can slip through pants fibers, well, I guess I should feel even sorrier for you. Hey, that's roid abuse for you.
~Bruce FUMES, pacing the stage back and forth.~
B.Rage: MOTHERFUCKER, MY BODY IS A TEMPLE, NOT LIKE YOURS THAT TILTS, BODY BY JACK!!!!
~The Wildkard laughs mockingly at the angry bruiser standing so far away.~
Spade: Yeah you're so confident in your self image that you look like a pissed off peacock at the mere mention of steriod abuse. Truth stings kid? Maybe you took a short cut to get that body?
~Bruce growls and starts for the ring with a fast striding pace.~
B.Rage: YOU'RE DEAD BITCH!
Spade: Come at me, 'Bro'....
~Spade tosses the microphone aside and steps back with arms spread wide.~
Hood: WOOHOOO!!! Gonna' watch this old man get beat into paste!
Smith: Looks like we have an impromptu match here and now people!
~Bruce slides under the ropes and bull rushes The Wildkard, who promptly side steps with a pirouette spin that rams his foot straight into Bruce's lower back! Rage stumbles forward and spins around only to have his head rocked to the left by a savage spinning roundhouse kick. The big man doesn't budge, but Spade doesn't stop, continuing that spinning motion with a back thrust kick follow up to the gut that doubles Bruce over and sets him back two steps. Using the added distance between the two, Spade leaps into a handstand and straight into a Cartwheel kick, both of his feet clipping the top of Bruce's head and dropping him to one knee! The finale of the combo sees Spade immediately back flipping, clipping Bruce's jaw and rocking him right off his feet and flat on his back with a stunned and confused look on his face! Upon landing three feet away from Bruce, Spade strikes a martial arts pose, then spreads his arms out with three fingered salutes to the crowd!~
Hood: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!!!
Crowd: YOU STILL GOT IT!!
*CLAP CLAP CLA-CLA-CLAP!*
Crowd: YOU STILL GOT IT!!!!
*CLAP CLAP CLA-CLA-CLAP!*
Smith: An impressive display of Martial arts kicking by The Wildkard, but Bruce doesn't seem to be staying down long!
~Seeing Bruce get up, Spade hops forward with a stepping front kick, catching the big man with a hard kick to the gut that sends him staggering back into the ropes. Bruce tries for a snap rebound but Spade answers with a double throat thrust, then grips his arm, twists it twice and peppers him with several kicks to the thigh, ribs, sternum, and finally finishing by releasing the hold and hitting a spinning back kick that sends Bruce flailing through the ropes. However on the last kick, Spade lands on his leg a bit funny and starts to limp a bit with grit teeth.~
Smith: Oooh but a little ring rust may be rearing it's head afterall.
Hood: He can't go too long against the beast and he better start booking it with the quickness.
~However, the Wildkard doesn't book it, instead rolling out of the ring and asking a fan for a chair, which the teen is glad to give up. Spade smiles, takes the chair and not a minute too soon as the Rage train came barreling at him...~
*FFFFWWWHHHHRRRAAAACCCKT!!!*
~....A chair warping shot staggers Bruce back, the big man blinking and shaking his head. Spade then jabs the chair end into Bruce's gut to double him over, then leaps up and brings the chair crashing across his back with enough force to bounce it out of his grip! The chair lands with a clatter as Bruce staggers, fingers curled into tight fists and jaw clenched with anger.~
Spade: WWWAAAAOOOOOoooooo!!!!
Crowd: WWWWAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOooooooo!!!!
Smith: The Wildkard showing his report with the fans!
Hood: He better keep his eyes on the big motherfucker still on his feet.
~It seems as if Spade counted on a back assault because as Bruce ran at his back, Spade turns with a spinning mid kick to the gut, then grabs Bruce's ears, and pulls him in to deliver several piston knee strikes to the big man's forehead. The final blow sees Spade dropping down for a split and delivering a hard jab right to Bruce's throat, Bruce's head whipping back as he staggers away, coughing and choking. Spade gets up with a wince, his limp getting a bit more visible as he moves.~
Smith: He needs to finish Bruce Rage off and in a hurry!
~His breathing is even and controlled and Spade moves with more coordination and less of a rush. He takes his time getting to Bruce, who immediately swings around with a backfist, which Spade ducks, jabbing the monster right in his armpit! Bruce howls in pain, grabbing at the underarm and staggering away. He tries again with his other arm, and Spade fires two hard jabs into the armpit, followed by a tripping hook kick that takes Bruce off his feet. Spade rears his leg up high, bringing it down for axe kick, but Bruce manages to side roll, letting Spade's boot heel hit the pavement with a nasty sounding smack.~
~Bruce quickly gets to his feet and backs away, more out of uncertainty of what to do next. Spade jacks jaws at him.~
Spade: Not so tough fighting someone who isn't coming at you with blind anger and in more control, are you kid?
Bruce: SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!
Crowd: YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!!!
~Bruce spins and shouts back at the crowd.~
Bruce: KISS MY ASS!!!!
Spade: What's a matter boy? Why are you backing away from me? YOU WERE TALKING SUCH GOOD SHIT BEFORE!!! COME ON!!! HIT ME!!!! FIGHT ME!!! GIVE ME A HUG!!!
~Spade lifts his arms out at his sides, laughing....~
Hood: You know, I'm torn. I don't know if I like or hate Spade right now.
Smith: I think he's great!
~...."Pour some Sugar On Me" by Def Leppard hits the P/A into an abrupt record scratch!~
Smith: Could it be?
~The Wildkard only briefly looks over his shoulder and looks instead to pursue Bruce. Suddenly his world is upended as Bruce Rage lunges forward with a powerful stunning Lariat that flips the Wildkard off his feet, landing belly first on the floor!~
Bruce: RRRRROOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!
~Following the record scratch, the lights dim except for a spotlight over the top of the aisle, illuminating the shine on the faceplate of the dubbed "International Hollywood" title. The venue is filled by Foreigner's "Juke Box Hero", and thusly greeted by everyone's favorite.......~
Hood: It is! The man of the hour is here! The highest-paid star in OCW history...
~The big man quivers with success despite blood trickling from a split in his lip down his chin and one eye starting to swell slightly.~
*HHHHUUUUGGGGEEEE HHHHEEEEL JEER!!!!*
Hood: Ok I take it back, Spade sucks!
Smith: Spade was hitting him and hitting him, but Bruce Rage just showcased incredible toughness and resilience to come back from all of that. The man's like a tank and if you don't keep whittling that armor down, he's going to mow you down in just a few shots!
~Jacob just casually strolls down to the ring with a big grin on his face, nodding and giving a thumbs up to Bruce Rage. Bruce gathers up Spade and hoists him high over his head, then HURLS him into the ring. Spade rolls on landing, slowly getting up on his knees with a wince.~
~Bruce slides under the ropes, hops up with a spring push up, and rushes in with a brutal kick to Spade's face rocking him right back down. From there he gathers him up, boots him in the gut, lifts him up and hits a running spinebuster into the nearby corner. There he proceeds to brutally shoulder ram the Wildkard over and over and over! It's only when Bruce finally lets up, that Spade collapses to a seat and Bruce steps back with a roar, then bursts forward full steam ahead to ram his knee into Spade's face.~
Bruce: COME ON BITCH! WHERE'S YOUR CHOP SUEY BULLSHIT?! HUH??! HUH?! HHHUUUHHH??!!
~As he shouted at Spade, Bruce brutally stomps him down in the corner, each Huh emphasized with a harder and harder stomp to the chest.~
Smith: COME ON! HE'S ALMOST FIFTY AND RETIRED YOU ASSHOLE!!!
Hood: That dude's almost 50? I'm calling bullshit right here and now!
~Jacob slips through the ropes and unfastens the title from around his waist while Bruce continues his savage and brutal assault on James Spade. Bruce boots the Wildkard in the gut, straddles his head in a standing headscissor. After giving an intense glare to the booing crowd, Bruce then whips Spade up over his head and onto his back in a crucifix position, then heaves him up and over, dumping him down on the canvas with an explosive thud.~
Smith: THE FALL OF ROME!!!!
Hood: That old man never stood a chance, bruh!
~Jacob snickers and walks over to the broken heap that is James Spade and stands over him, his "International Hollywood" title raised over his head with one hand, while demanding the mic with his other.~
Hood: Not that I mind this brutal beating, but where the hell is security?
Smith: Good question and I'm surprised I didn't ask it first.
Jacob: You begged my attention, and I declined before. Those like you are...quite frankly, not worth the time of THE Jesus of Hollywood! Well now you have it...and look at you, can't even pick yourself up and present yourself proper to a real celebrity.
~Jacob reaches into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief, tossing it carelessly down over James.~
Jacob: Look at you. Clean yourself up, you dirty old man. Better yet...
~Jacob looks up at Bruce with an evil grin. Bruce nods and turns, roaring at the crowd.~
Bruce: BBBBRRRROOOOO CCCCOOOOOODDDDDEEEE!!!
~The cameras suddenly cut to the back where we see Melinda Rhodes running through the backstage hallway dressed in jeans, boots, and a black Slayer T-shirt, her bright red aluminum baseball bat in hand!~
Hood: Here comes Melinda Rhodes!
~At that point Bruce has Spade hoisted up in that Spinebuster hold as Jacob backs into the ropes and snaps off with a running leap. Bruce hoists Spade up one foot just in time for Jacob's arm to catch his throat and together the two drive The Wildkard to the canvas in an explosive, bone jarring fashion!~
Smith: What a devastating move!!!!
Hood: You never cross the Bro Code!
~As The Rebel nears ringside backstage, she comes across a pair of locked double doors that lead straight to Gorilla position. For whatever reason, they were locked. She starts to ram her shoulder into the door with as much force as she can, slowly starting to buckle it bit by bit.~
Hood: Not that I'm complaining but, who locked the doors to Gorilla? Nobody locks the doors to Gorilla! Half the fun is seeing who comes running out here at random dammit!
Smith: I don't know but this doesn't bode well for James Spade!
~Back in the ring, Spade was laid out but still stirring slightly, still trying to fight to his feet, failing as he tried.~
Jacob: You're pathetic. I hope your wife puts up more of a fight than you have, you two-bit hack...
Crowd: BBBBBBBBOOOOOOO!!!! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!
~Bruce gathers the Wildkard up, the man still half out of it as Jacob backs up into the ropes once more.~
Smith: NO! COME ON GUYS! YOU'VE HAD YOUR FUN! IT'S OVER!!! THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY!
~Backstage the Rebel hops back and rushes into the door, only for it to suddenly open! She ends up hurling herself into a bit of steel beam that forms the stage frame work and growling in pain as she clutches her still sore shoulder. She turns and then rushes up the ram and through the curtains. Her music hit's the PA system, instantly stopping all progress from Bruce and Jacob, immediately dropping the seemingly lifeless body of Spade to the canvas!~
Rebel: JJJJJAAAAAAMMMMMMEEESSSS!!!!
~Melinda Rhodes rushes down to ringside in a mad dash and within seconds, she's hopping to her feet with a mad cheer from the crowd. Bruce and Jacob both wisely back down from the woman with a baseball bat in her hand.~
Smith: Look at the rats jumping from the ship, but it's too late and the damage has been done!
Hood: Call an ambulance, I think The Wildkard is dead!
~As Bruce and Jacob back away from the ring, the two laugh as The Rebel is torn between caring for her injured and unconscious husband or seeking revenge. Ultimately she drops the bat down on the canvas and turns back to Spade, dropping down beside him and cradling her head in her arms. No one can hear what she was saying to her unconscious lover.~
Smith: What a sad but touching moment, as the Rebel chooses protecting her loved one over revenge.
Hood: Really? It's so goddamn hokey man!
~Finally a pair of EMT's with a stretcher rush out as Bruce and Jacob disappear through the curtains. Yet it isn't until the last second that we notice a figure all in black blending in with one of the side curtains wearing a white featureless mask. He quickly turns and vanishes from sight as The Rebel helps the EMT's load Spade onto a stretcher. The EMT's carefully move Spade out of the ring and after gathering her bat, The Rebel walks with him to the back, quivering with anger and rage.~
Smith: The Rebel did make an appearance tonight afterall, but it was too little, too late to save James Spade from becoming the next victim of the deadly Bro Code. We have to cut to commercial, but after a message from our sponsors, we'll be right back with more action for you!
~We cut backstage to the office of Marcus Welsh. A flat screen TV fastened to the wall is airing tonight’s show. He’s just witnessed the brutal attack on James Spade. Greg, sitting with his legs crossed, shakes his head~
Greg: That was horrific!
Marcus Welsh: Yea well that’s what that old fucker gets for eating up MY air time. Who does Zybala think he is giving a retired has been on air minutes during Massacre?
Greg: I didn’t think it was so bad. You shouldn’t get so angry, Marcus. Your blood pressure.
Marcus Welsh: Forget my stupid blood pressure, Greg! You don’t realize what a disease this Zybala guy is! He’s booking old retired men to cut promos against the top stars in OCW. He’s visiting Alice in her RV for reasons I dare not fathom. He’s booking himself in MORE matches against the CHAMP. This guy is a menace to sanity!
~Greg stands and rushes over, massaging Welsh’s shoulders. Marcus starts to calm down~
Marcus Welsh: I swear. If Zybala ruins the debut of the new FACE of OCW I might legitimately kill the man. I might murder him with a rusty spork.
Greg: MARCUS!
Marcus Welsh: I’m sorry, Greg. But this is where that man has driven me, emotionally
Greg: I will not tolerate any man of mine using a spork!
Marcus Welsh: Relax, Greggers. I don’t have any sporks. I merely said that because I assume Zybala uses sporks.
~Greg clutches his chest in relief~
Marcus Welsh: Knux!
~Welsh’s body moves back and forth due to the aggressive, therapeutic massage he is receiving. Knux stands to attention~
Marcus Welsh: You inform Alice’s team that I want to have a word with her next week. I have got to get to the bottom of this Alice, Zybala shit. We cannot have the new face of OCW walking into anything unexpected. Serial Thrillers is the launching point for the new marquee, franchise player. Nothing and I mean NOTHING can be allowed to go awry.
~Knux nods and exits while Welsh continues to receive a massage from Greg~
Rebel: What the fuck where you thinking, James?
~James just chuckles, then winces as he had started to shake his head, only to stop.~
Spade: Well, I am pretty tired of sitting on the sidelines honey.
Rebel: You do realize the only person more precious in my life than you is our daughter, right? Why did you go out there? I thought you were over the macho chest puffing bullshit.
~He sighs softly and looks up at the ceiling.~
Spade: Try it from where I'm sitting, Mel. I watch my wife go out to the ring, living the life I once lived and getting her ass punished week after week. I figured when you got the urge to go back, it'd be a few special shows and then it'd be back to us living out retirement together in peace. Then last week happened and those two ass wipes worked in tandem trying to take you out. Sorry lover, I'm just not going to sit quietly and let them run you down like that.
Rebel: So this trip we took was really just so you could have a free shot at Rage and Hotstuff?
~James gave a shrug.~
Spade: Well, I saw it like this. I can give you a romantic weekend get away in one of the most beautiful spots in the world, treat you all kinds of right, and put the boots to those two pricks while I was at it. Sadly, it backfired, but that's my own damn fault. I got over excited and became the victim of my own hubris.
~The Rebel's jaw tightens and she slowly shakes her head, eyes cast down towards the floor.~
Spade: Definitely paid for it. I feel like my balls are in my throat, my prostate's swollen, and I'll probably be crapping tapioca all week.... Goddamn!
~He suddenly starts laughing and groaning as his laughter seems to hurt his ribs a bit.~
Rebel: Why are you laughing?
Spade: Ahahahahaheheheheheee..... Ow.... ow.... Why am I laughing? Because I feel like a kid again.
~She quirks her brow at her husband and gently pats his hand.~
Rebel: You find a way to laugh at anything.
Spade: That's your problem, Mel. You don't laugh enough. Fury and passion can give you strength, sure, but they also give your enemies something to use against you; a button to push and once they know how to push it, they'll keep pushing it, keep throwing you off your game, and when that happens, you're left with nothing but the pride and anger that put you in that position in the first place. Go watch the replay sometime, watch how I was working that big motherfucker over until that one critical distraction. You could do that too, if you could just reign in your temper and take control of the fight. Once you master yourself, you become an unstoppable force that few can contend with. You're so close to that, but that anger keeps getting the best of you.
~Melinda's brow furrows and she looks away from James.~
Spade: Search your feelings, you know it to be true. You hold back because you're scared of what your anger might make you do, but once you take control of it, everything will flow and then, it won't matter what they say, think, or feel towards you. People will always talk, but you're the one that has a choice in what you do. Think about it, ok?
~She casts a sideways glance at him. Just as she's about to get his attention, the clatter of wood hitting the floor grabs both their attentions, the Rebel looking over her shoulder to find Vincent Langston standing there, a bloodied baseball bat by his feet. His eyes appear semi-glazed as he blinks a few time, seeming as if he were coming out of a daze.~
Rebel: Big Vinnie?
~She rises from her stool and walks over to the big man.~
Langston: What.... what just happened? How'd I get here and is that your husband in bandages?
~Spade grins and waves at him.~
Spade: Yo!
Rebel: I can figure out why you have a bloody bat later. Right now, we need to sit down and talk.
~She brings Vincent over towards the bed where the three begin talking together, the scene quickly cutting back to ringside.~
~The scene cuts to Bruce Rage as he steps out of the Arena and into the parking lot. He hops into a rather gaudy 2017 Orange and Black Dodge Viper, taking only a moment to fish out his keys as he pulls the door shut. It's at that moment that Who'Re steps into the frame, dressed in one of her usual simple dress and high heel combinations~
Who'Re: Mr. Rage! May we have a moment of your time?
~Bruce smirks and cocks his head.~
BR: The fuck you want, bitch? You could've interviewed me the whole night I was here, but no, you got to wait until I'm cranking my car up to leave!
W: Mr. Rage, why were you here tonight? Neither you nor Mr. Hotstuff were even booked tonight.
~With a roll of his eyes, The Rage Train answers.~
BR: Let's just say me and Jacobro had some important private business to attend to, which is none of your business.
~Who'Re nods and continues.~
W: Why did you attack James Spade tonight along with Jacob Hotstuff?
BR: Because not only did he have no place in my wrestling ring and he was talking shit like he's somebody. Maybe once upon a time he was, but today? Who gives a rats ass. Tell you what, let's get on something more interesting.
~Bruce eyed the buxom blond up and down as if she were a side of beef.~
BR: Slip me your number and I'll give you a one on one interview you'll never forget babe. What do you say to that? I'd treat you better than your limp dick old man back home.
W: I'm sorry, Mr. Rage, but my name is Who'Re, NOT Whore and just because my parents were horrible people, doesn't mean you have the right to talk to me that way!
~Bruce snickers.~
BR: Frigid bitch. No wonder you're just a weak-ass interviewer in a weak-ass position, because you don't put your nice-ass to good work and polish a few knobs to get ahead!
~Who'Re's eyes light up with a flash of anger. Suddenly Bruce tosses a key with a tag and a room number on it.~
BR: Anytime you want to be my whore baby, pick up those keys and visit my hotel. Come alone or bring a friend, I don't care. If you bring your boyfriend, I'll show you just how much less of a man he is than I am!
W: FUCK YOU!!!
BR: That's the idea, Whore.
~And with that the Viper's engine rumbled to life. With a gear shift and the depression of the accelerator, he's off with a spin of his tires and the roar of a turbo-charged V10 engine. Who'Re is left GLARING at his tail lights with anger. She kicks the hotel keys across the parking lot and then storms off.~
Main Event
Non-Title
Mike Harrison © (4-0) vs. The Lost Soul (6-3)
~The crowd is ready for their Main Event! It’s been a somewhat light evening in regards to in-ring competition…however this main event should by all accounts deliver. The crowd is eagerly anticipating the ceremonial CLEARING OF THE THROAT. Belvedere obliges and they go crazy~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our Main Event of the evening! The following match is a Non-Title contest and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The Friday the 13th Theme hits. The crowd sings(?) along with it. It’s the month of October…Halloween is drawing near and these people LOVE them some Friday the 13th. They love it almost as much as they love Michael Myers because, ya know, Michaels Myers is KING. Anyway…I, the narrator, digress. The fans are all like “ch-ch-ch ah-ah-ah” as TLS emerges from behind the curtain and stalks his way down to the ring. He rolls in under the bottom rope and appears ready with a painted face~
Belvedere: From Parts Unknown, standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Ascension Champion…The Lost Soul!!!
Smith: The Lost Soul looking extra Souly tonight
Hood: Yes he’s got that lost vibe working tonight.
Smith: He needs a big win and, well, a win against Mike Harrison in the main event would be just that
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~'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…he is the current OCW Craze Champion…he is Mike Harrison!
~Harrison removes his belt and hands it over to Belvedere. Belvedere exits the ring with the belt in his hands and the bell sounds~
Smith: Alright…this is a Non-Title match, folks. Harrison will be defending his Craze Title at Serial Thrillers against OGDA
Hood: OGDA?
Smith: OH GEE DEE AY
Hood: So not OGDA?
Smith: It’s an acronym!
Hood: Fuck it…the masked guy we just saw beat up the dumbass Uber driver, right?
Smith: Ugh, yes
~TLS shows some aggression early on as he dictates the initial pace. He rushes at Harrison and throws him into the corner. TLS uses his considerable size advantage to keep Harrison pinned in the corner while nailing him with overreaching right hands. Harrison’s does his best to cover up but TLS’ strength appears to be too much. TLS grabs Harrison by the hair and slings him out of the corner! Harrison leaves his feet, flying recklessly through the air before landing face first on the mat! He grabs his face in pain as fans at ringside groan and grimace…that had to hurt~
Smith: We’re seeing a very angry TLS this evening
Hood: I heard Virtual OCW’s ratings have been plummeting
Smith: That is a shame
Hood: We need more Murphy the Body
~Harrison tries to get to his feet. TLS charges forward with a knee into Harrison’s ribcage! Harrison rolls away…part due to impact, part due to survival instincts. He comes to rest on the apron. TLS charges forward with a baseball slide…Harrison moves! TLS slides out of the ring and staggers forward due to the unexpected whiff. He braces himself against the barricade, back to the ring. Harrison rolls into the ring and gets to one knee. TLS turns around and heads back toward the ring. Harrison pops to his feet…he grabs the top rope, leaps up and shoots his legs through the ropes, kicking TLS in the face!!! TLS stumbles back into the barricade! Harrison comes to rest on his feet atop the apron. He leaps off with a double axe handle drilling TLS right between the eyes!! TLS falls to one knee, shaking his battered head~
Smith: He may be old but that doesn’t mean he can’t be quick when he needs to be
Hood: We don’t know how old he is
Smith: Yes we do
Hood: No way man, he wears all that paint. Guy could have started wrestling at fifteen. That’d make him, what, early thirties?
Smith: I’m talking about Mike Harrison you idiot!
~Harrison throws a few compact knee strikes into TLS’s chest. TLS leans back into the barricade. Harrison winds up and throws a vicious roundhouse kick directed at The Lost Soul’s head. TLS ducks!! Harrison’s leg SLAMS into the barricade! He grabs his foot in pain! Scruff, standing inside the ring, finally decides to count. He yells out ‘ONE!’ TLS crawls toward the ring steps and takes a seat on the bottom step, recuperating~
Smith: Harrison got a little carried away with those leg strikes
Hood: TLS is good at ducking and weaving. Kind of like Jason Voorhees
Smith: Did/Does Jason do much ducking and weaving? It seems to me he just walks in a straight line absorbing any and everything thrown his way
Hood: In his younger days. He was a prized fighter, nearly golden glove level
Smith: I’m not buying any of that
Hood: Think about it…he suffered massive head trauma which led to his mental retardation which ultimately bred this inhuman level of strength and pain tolerance
Smith: If he suffered that much head trauma then he obviously wasn’t doing much ducking and weaving
Hood: Fuck you
~Harrison limps over to TLS. Scruff yells “FOUR!” TLS lunges forward, snaring Harrison’s head. He tries to slam him face first into the steps, but Harrison fights free. TLS gets to his feet. He hurries onto the top step. Harrison is standing near the barricade. TLS leaps off with a punch of some kind, but Harrison moves! TLS lands chest first along the top of the barricade! Scruff yells “FIVE!’ Harrison smartly rolls back into the ring~
Smith: Again Harrison is proving to be quicker than TLS
Hood: On the flip side of that previous argument…TLS could be, like, really old
Smith: I don’t think he’s ‘really’ old
Hood: There could be an 80 year old face under all that makeup. That would actually explain why he’s covered his face under pain all these years
Smith: I doubt it
Hood: Man you don’t think that’s how he picks up chicks, do you? He covers his old, wrinkly face in paint and then convinces women he’s, like, 25? Do you think he gets carded at bars?
Smith: My mind isn’t creative enough to imagine TLS at bars hitting on women
~TLS leans against the barricade. Scruff yells “SEVEN!” TLS heads for the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope, breaking the count. Harrison wastes no time in stomping at TLS, keeping him subdued. He snares TLS by the hair and whips him into a corner. TLS hits hard. Harrison charges in and flies through the air with a forearm, smacking TLS in the chin! TLS leans forward with his hair hanging toward the mat. Harrison tosses him out of the corner with a hip toss! TLS hits the mat hard, sitting up. Harrison runs forward and kicks TLS in the back, soccer style! TLS arches his back in pain~
Smith: The Craze Champion is in total control
Hood: No shit man he’s whipping some clown ass
Smith: TLS had better get something going or this could end very soon
~Harrison snares TLS by the head and pulls him up in position for a Reverse DDT. TLS reaches up and jams a thumb into Harrison’s eye! This stalls Mike. TLS twists around and bullies Harrison back into the nearest corner. He rams several shoulders into Harrison’s gut until the Craze champion is out of breath~
Smith: A much needed rebound by TLS. Harrison was dominating up to that point
Hood: The old man…or the young man…the man with the painted face isn’t done yet!
Smith: TLS is the veteran here in OCW. You just know losing to Mike Harrison, a relative newcomer, would bug him.
Hood: Not as long as his face paint remains fully intact
~TLS whips Harrison out of the corner. Harrison charges across the ring. TLS promptly follows behind. Harrison reaches the corner, grabs the top ropes and leaps over the charging TLS. TLS, though, catches Harrison over his shoulder and drops him face first into the top buckle with Snake Eyes!! Harrison stumbles backward. TLS turns around and drills Harrison with a lariat!! The Craze Champion hits the mat hard!~
Smith: Excellent flurry of offense by The Lost Soul!
Hood: He’s trying to blind Harrison!
Smith: It’s just Snake Eyes
Hood: Try telling THAT to players at a dice table
~TLS drops a leg across the throat of Harrison. He contemplates making a cover but the years of experience tell him it’s too soon. So he snares Harrison by the hair and pulls him to his feet. He whips Harrison into the ropes. Harrison bounces off and ducks a clothesline attempt. Harrison hits the ropes again and flies through the air. TLS turns around and catches Harrison! He tosses Harrison over his head with a Fall Away Slam!! Harrison hits hard~
Smith: The strength advantage has come into play heavily during this match for TLS
Hood: Hey, nice pun
Smith: It was unintentional
Hood: Doesn’t make it any less punny
~TLS returns to his feet and stomps on the Craze Champion a few times. Harrison crawls into a corner, looking for a reprieve. TLS offers none. Scruff stands back. TLS delivers a vicious kick into Harrison’s chest. He bends over and snares Harrison by the hair. He hooks Harrison for a suplex. He lifts Harrison up, placing him on the top buckle. TLS climbs to the second buckle~
Smith: I’m not sure this is the wisest of moves
Hood: No shit…you’re using your size advantage. It’s working! Don’t go away from it!
Smith: Indeed…TLS must be caught up in the moment. He’s always been something of an enigma
Hood: Like the former OCW LightWeight Champion, Enigma?
Smith: No, enigma with a lower case ‘e’
~TLS hooks Harrison for a superplex. He lifts Harrison up, vertical. Harrison throws a knee into the top of The Lost Soul’s head! TLS loses his grip. Harrison comes crashing down on top of TLS with both knees into his chest!!! TLS this hard!! The crowd jumps to their feet! He’s holding his chest in pain!! Harrison rolls away, wincing from the unexpected mid-air audible~
Smith: Harrison was able to turn that super plex into a double knee stomp into the chest of TLS! My gosh he may have caved in The Lost Soul’s breast plate!
Hood: Breast plate? Sounds like some kind of KFC special
Smith: Would you get serious!
Hood: Dude I’m always serious when discussing original recipe chicken
~Harrison gets to his feet first. TLS is standing shortly thereafter. Harrison is poised for a Superkick!! TLS doesn’t see it coming. Harrison throws a superkick but he aims too low! He kicks TLS right in the chest!! TLS staggers back into the corner! He coughs and wheezes, trying to catch his breath. Harrison appears frustrated, knowing he missed a great opportunity. He remains focused, however, and stands poised to deliver another superkick~
Smith: The Sunshine Superkick…only problem is he didn’t aim high enough!
Hood: Underestimated the height of TLS, I’d guess
Smith: That or the punishment he’s received forced a gap in ring awareness. It can happen, even to savvy veterans
~TLS emerges from the corner, vulnerable. Harrison lunges forward with The Sunshine Superkick!! TLS dodges it! He hooks Harrison with a Full Nelson…picks him up and SLAMS him into the mat with a Full Nelson Slam!!! Harrison hits hard! The ring shakes~
Smith: TLS averted The Sunshine Superkick and responded by dropping Harrison with a Full Nelson Slam!
Hood: Holy shit…Harrison may actually lose this one
Smith: This is arguably the most danger he’s been in since joining OCW. The Lost Soul has all the talent in the world to defeat any and every wrestler imaginable
Hood: What about unimaginable wrestlers
Smith: Well, given that I can’t imagine them it’s hard to say
~TLS falters to one knee. He’s clutching his chest. No, the old man isn’t having a heart attack. His chest is just throbbing, most likely bruised. He returns to his feet. Harrison is holding onto the ropes, fighting back to his feet. TLS rushes forward with a knee into the abdomen of Mike. He follows that up with some stiff right hands that send Harrison staggering into a corner. TLS throws a few shoulders into Harrison’s midsection. He then drags Harrison near the center of the ring and hooks him for a piledriver. He lifts Harrison up and drops him on his head with a perfect piledriver. TLS gets to his feet and heads to the corner~
Smith: TLS looking to hit souled out. If he connects this match is over
Hood: Yea a man that size crashing down on someone from the top is, well, it’s fucking brutal, man
Smith: Indeed. I can’t recall every seeing a person kick out of Souled Out
~TLS reaches the top. He looks down at Harrison. Harrison hasn’t moved. TLS leaps off the top with a somersault. He comes crashing down with the leg drop. Harrison moves!!! TLS SLAMS into the mat, hip first!! He grimaces in pain. He’s shocked! Harrison quickly makes the cover, taking advantage of the big miss. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: He BARELY kicked out! My gosh I thought Harrison had it!
Hood: TLS needs to quit fucking around with this aerial assault bullshit. He’s the bigger, stronger man. Stick with that you painted freak!
Smith: TLS is TLS, Hood. He’s always done things his own way
Hood: And maybe THAT’s why he’s never won the OCW Title
~Harrison returns to his feet, focused. TLS sits up, trying to catch up to what’s going on. Harrison lunges at TLS with a flying knee. TLS dodges. Harrison staggers forward. TLS rolls him up from behind but doesn’t go for the pin. Instead he stomps Harrison in the guts. Harrison curls up, holding his stomach in pain. TLS pulls Harrison to his feet and delivers a vicious chop to his chest~
Smith: TLS back in control. He keeps this match grounded I think he’ll win
Hood: Yea he’s killed Harrison with the size advantage. Just stick with that, TLS!
Smith: It would seem to be a sound strategy. Although that would eliminate his finishing maneuver
Hood: So what…just beat the crap out of him and then pin him. It’s not rocket science, man
~TLS whips Harrison into the nearest corner. Harrison hits hard. TLS charges in and leaps through the air. Harrison moves! TLS lands CHEST FIRST into the top buckle. He’s shaken. He stumbles back, holding his chest, coughing. He turns around and gets kicked RIGHT IN THE FACE with the Sunshine Superkick!! TLS goes stiff as a board, falling to the mat. Harrison makes the cover. The crowd counts along~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…MIKE HARRISON!!!!!
Smith: HUGE win for Mike Harrison! I think that might be the biggest win of his career
Hood: TLS is a legit badass and an OCW legend. He came ready to fight tonight and, well, just couldn’t stop the undefeated Craze Champion
Smith: Nope and we can all go back to that superplex attempt. TLS left the mat where he’d been so effective and tried a high risk maneuver. That resulted in a major blow to the chest of TLS which, inevitably cost him the match
Hood: Yep, his chest got all fucked up and when he hit that corner, it pretty much crippled him
Smith: Stunned him to the core which allowed Harrison the opportunity to get The Sunshine Superkick in and win the match. Great win for Mike. Now Harrison turns his attention to Serial Thrillers where he will defend his Craze Title against OGDA
Hood: Yea, OGDA looked fucking great tonight. But it was Uber Man so, who can really tell
Smith: OGDA is on fire. Harrison is undefeated. That will be a great match in 3 weeks
Hood: What about TLS?
Smith: I don’t know. He looked so good against Grenier. I thought he’d defeat Iggy and become the Savage Champion but he faltered in that match and now appears…pardon the pun, lost
Hood: Isn’t he trying to join Ed’s team? Or am I imagining things?
Smith: There have been rumors
Hood: Well the guy has got to get something going. He’s too fucking good to just sit around being useless
Smith: I have no doubt he’ll be involved in some way at Serial Thrillers. Only time will tell. Anyway, that’s all the time we have tonight everybody. Good night and we’ll see you next week!
~We get a final shot of Harrison retrieving his Craze Title and celebrating in front of his fans. The show comes to a close~