OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, October 15th 2018
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida

~Wellll it’s Monday night and we’re ready to rock…oh, wait. My bad! Different show entirely! But, yes, it’s still Monday night which means OCW is ready to put on its weekly program! We are just two…count them…TWO weeks away from Serial Thrillers! That means tonight’s show is going to be loaded with intrigue, storyline advancement, and witty one liners by Hood. We had a fairly productive day at work. A cold front blew in which, for a southerner is good news. We take a seat on the couch with a box of COUNT CHOCULA. Turns out this is our desired snack during tonight’s broadcast. We eat it dry because we don’t drink milk at night like some kind of serial killer. Our TV switches over to STARZ. The OCW logo flashes…it fades into the Massacre logo before cutting to a sold out crowd filled with screaming OCW fans!! They are ready for Massacre! The view pans around the crowd a bit before settling on Smith and Hood~

Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! We are just TWO weeks away from Serial Thrillers! I can’t wait!

Hood: New fucking Orleans! Woo fucking hoo! I’m going to drink my face off

Smith: AFTER the show, right?

Hood: Before, during AND after. You’re not keeping this man from getting black out drunk

Smith: Good heavens! Serial Thrillers is shaping up to be arguably the greatest event in OCW history. So much is known about the event…yet some mysteries remain. Who is Alice facing? What’s going on with the Paradigm Title?

Hood: Is Tony the Spider really on ROIDS?

Smith: The least of our issues, Hood

Hood: And, what about Big Bifford? How is he doing?

Smith: Nobody knows…nobody cares!

Hood: Fuck you!

Smith: We also have some stout in ring action. Vossler…a big time free agent acquisition makes his debut tonight. He shocked OCW last week by attacking Hellraven after her win

Hood: Love this guy already

Smith: We’ll also see Andrea Hernandez in action. Warren Lapierre will take on Talia Areano. And…Solomon Cain will face one of his father’s greatest rivals in The Lost Soul

Hood: I can’t wait for that one

Smith: As if that weren’t enough…the main event features the RETURN of The Lockwood Party. They will challenge Legendary Trifecta for the OCW Tag Team Titles

Hood: Let’s gooooo Lockwoods!

Smith: All of that plus much, much more awaits! So let’s get this party started!

~We cut backstage to the office of Marcus Welsh! The crowd boos instantly. Welsh has no reaction. He’s going over what looks to be set designs for Serial Thrillers. There is a knock at the door. Knux answers and watches as Solomon Cain steps in. He’s dressed for combat, ready to go. Welsh leans back and smiles~

Marcus Welsh: Mr. Cain, welcome

~Cain has nothing to say. He’s probably wondering why he’s been summoned on such a crucial evening. He’s clearly got more important things to focus on~

Marcus Welsh: So, listen.

~Welsh carefully motions for Knux to stand close to Cain. Cain senses the room growing tense. He’s on guard now more than ever~

Marcus Welsh: I don’t have to tell you that running a promotion the size of OCW can be difficult. There isn’t anyone better at this than yours truly. Which should make you happy considering you work for me. However, I’m afraid to admit that even I…as great as I am, make a mistake from time to time.

~Cain frowns and tenses up~

Marcus Welsh: Easy, big man. You’re off to a hot start. You don’t want to ruin things via an act you’ll regret. You don’t want me to put you on the Zybala List.

~The crowd pops at the word ‘Zybala’~

Hood: The ZYBALA list…that sounds terrible!

Smith: I think he’s replacing the word ‘black’ with ‘Zybala’

Hood: Zybala isn’t black!

~Welsh flashes a picture of Warren Lapierre~

Marcus Welsh: This is Warren Lapierre. He once portrayed a character known as Muffles the Bunny. He was scheduled to face Talia Areano tonight. However, plans have changed. Instead of Talia he will be facing you in the ring, tonight

~We hear the crowd react in a confused, potentially angry manner. Cain’s eyes widen, he leans forward with angst filled curiosity~

Marcus Welsh: I said relax! It couldn’t be helped. I’m sorry. I made a booking error last week.

Solomon Cain: Why?

~Solomon Cain asks the simplest question yet Welsh seems to struggle with an answer~

Marcus Welsh: There are things working behind the scenes that are above your pay grade, kid.

Solomon Cain: WHY!?

~Cain doesn’t give a shit about political nonsense. He wants to know why his anticipated match has been taken away~

Marcus Welsh: Because you are blocked from facing TLS. That’s why! I won’t go into the issue any further. Now get out of here and get ready for your match against Lapierre or you can hand in your notice solidifying that you are a failure in regards to your father’s OCW legacy

~Cain is PISSED. He glares at Welsh. Marcus wheels his chair back against the wall, creating distance. Knux braces Cain. Cain shoves Knux away. He continues to glare at Welsh. It’s a tense moment. Cain is debating what to do…weighing his options. He finally turns and exits the office, slamming the door behind him so hard it cracks. Welsh looks at Knux~

Marcus Welsh: He’s going to be a good one

~Knux doesn’t reply. He simply heads to the door to see what he can do to fix it. We cut back to the arena where the fans are chanting “BULLSHIT”~

Smith: What the…that’s not fair! What does he mean Cain is BLOCKED from facing TLS? What in the world?!

Hood: Hey man I’m sure Welsh has his reasons. Cain needs to chill out, though. You don’t cross Welsh

Smith: Oh and why not? Cain’s just supposed to sit there and take it?

Hood: Because if you cross Welsh then you’re forced to rely on Zybala. And that leads to a bunch of Uber Man and JAM G shit

Smith: You give our commissioner such little credit. He’s smarter than you or our esteemed GM thinks

Hood: Blah blah blah

Smith: Ugh…well that really takes a lot of steam off of tonight’s in ring action. But…we’ll still provide plenty of entertainment, I’m sure. And it all starts NOW as Vossler makes his in-ring debut! Let’s head down to ringside!

Singles Match
Vossler (0-0) vs. Jack Puffer (0-2)

~The crowd is primed for some action! And not in a sexual way! Or, well, at least not ALL of them. I’m sure there are a few deviants out there with sex on the brain. But, hey, what are ya gonna do? Anyway, the majority of the crowd sits patiently awaiting the start of some in ring action! Belvedere clears his throat giving them the signal that in ring action is exactly what’s about to go down. They pop~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Jack Puffer!

~Puffer stands in his corner looking a bit shy. He looks side to side as if awaiting some kind of horrible fate. His arms are folded around his body in an act that appears more protective than defensive~

Smith: The good detective. Last time we saw him he was accosted by our GM, Marcus Welsh

Hood: Yea, I heard that he knows the name of the new FACE of OCW

Smith: Ah yea, that’s right…you think that’s why he looks so timid?

Hood: Could be. I’m sure GM Welsh told him to keep his mouth shut…OR ELSE

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~The lights flash momentarily as the opening riff to "Playing The Saint" by Digital Summer begins to play. As the song picks up, Vossler appears on the ramp. He quickly fist bumps the floor below him as he poses before beginning a confident march down to the ring~

Belvedere: "Weighing in at 217 pounds. Hailing proudly from London, England. He is... VOOOOOSSSLEEEERRRRRRRRRR!"

~Vossler smiles confidently in his march as he mouths along the lyric 'Maybe I want you to hate me' from his theme song. The crowd boos and cheers him edging towards louder boos than cheers. This seemigly does not appear to faze Vossler who slides under the ring ropes from one side of the apron to the other to pose.~

~He swiftly enters the ring only to reach out to the crowd through the top and middle rope shouting various things and bobbing along to his theme song. With one quick turn, he slides on his knee to the close corner and remains kneeled until the match starts~

Smith: Vossler made a major impact last week during his debut. He attacked Hellraven after she scored a hard fought, much needed victory

Hood: Now THAT’s how you make a statement. I remember the first time I saw The Lost Soul inside a wrestling ring. He was making his debut by mocking and beating up a woman. My kinda guy, this Vossler

Smith: Ugh

~The bell rings. Belvedere quickly exits~

Smith: And now we get our first in-ring look at Vossler

Hood: This guy has quite the reputation, Smith. I’ve heard people on twitter have a problem with this Vossler guy

Smith: Wow, people on twitter having a problem with someone…that sounds like serious business

Hood: Yea, serious business if you’re a fucking retard

~Puffer approaches Vossler warily. The good detective hasn’t won a match in years. It’s unlikely that he’ll win this one. So, it appears as though his objective is to limit the potential of injury. Vossler calmly meets Puffer in the center of the ring. The two lock up. Vossler immediately transitions into a waist lock. Puffer looks around, confused~

Smith: Puffer displaying a total lack of in-ring awareness

Hood: He doesn’t know where Vossler is…and this guy’s supposed to be a detective?

Smith: To be fair he doesn’t make much…if any money in the field of detection

~Vossler instantly transitions into a Full Nelson. He rag dolls Puffer around for a moment with ease. It’s becoming very clear to Vossler just how easy this match is going to be. He releases the Full Nelson and palms the back of Puffer’s head, violently shoving him forward in an act of complete hubris. Puffer stumbles forward~

Smith: Total disrespect by Vossler

Hood: So? What’s Puffer going to do about it?

Smith: Likely nothing

Hood: Then Vossler has nothing to worry about

~Puffer realizes what he’s up against. He approaches Vossler looking to make a deal. Vossler is nonplussed. Puffer says “I’ll tell you who the new FACE of OCW is if you let me leave the ring unharmed.” Vossler looks around like “Is this guy fucking stupid or what?” The crowd laughs at Puffer’s foolishness. Puffer, though, continues the hard sale~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Yea Puffer is an idiot. For starters there’s no way Vossler takes this deal. And, well, not only will Vossler NOT take the deal but Welsh is going to be furious at Puffer trying to bargain with the biggest secret in OCW

Smith: Indeed

~Puffer pleads with Vossler to take the deal. Vossler just kind of stares at Puffer incredulously before lunging ahead with a lariat!! Puffer turns inside out, slamming onto the mat with tremendous force! The crowd goes “OOOHHH”!! Vossler stands over Puffer in dominant fashion~

Smith: Ouch!

Hood: Puffer is about to get fucked up

Smith: Yes it’s looking like yet another painful Monday evening for Jack Puffer

~Vossler moves with purpose. He snares Puffer by his thick hair and yanks him to his feet. He measures Puffer and steps up delivering a vicious Heel Kick to the back of Puffer’s head!!! Puffer’s knees buckle and he crumbles to the mat. Vossler places his foot into Puffer’s throat, choking the detective for no reason other than the fact that he’s able~

Smith: Okay Vossler we get your point…you are good

Hood: Murder Puffer! I’m sure Welsh would ensure Vossler doesn’t see any jail time. Dead men tell no tales, after all

Smith: How about this sold out audience? Don’t you think they’d testify against Vossler?

Hood: Wrestling fans are too stupid to give testimonies

Smith: Ah!

~Vossler relents choking Puffer. He yanks Puffer to his feet and hooks him for a Pumphandle Slam. He hoists Puffer up onto his shoulders and drops him with a Death Valley Driver (Eclipse)!!!! Puffer is down. He is out. The crowd is buzzing over the impressive appearance and impact of the move. Vossler goes for the nonchalant cover. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner….VOSSLER!!!!!

Smith: Impressive debut for Vossler. My goodness this man is dangerous and he means business

Hood: And given the fact that he shut Puffer up…well I’d say that more than makes up for his supercilious attitude toward Knux

Smith: Indeed

~No sooner has Vossler finished with Jack Puffer than a voice comes through the speakers, causing OCW's new, big-name signing to look around in confusion.~

Voice: 'Sup Vossman?

~As the sarcastic greeting rings out, the screen above the entranceway lights up, revealing its source – one of Vossler's victims during his introductory appearance the previous week, and one increasingly well known for never leaving anything unsaid. The look on Vossler's face changes from confusion to sardonic smugness as Hellraven looks down on him from the large flat-screen LCD, his expression matching that of the young rookie as she continues:~

Hellraven: If you're seein' this right now, that means I got to fuck with your match, just like you fucked with mine last week. An' I did it without even needin' to leave home. So yeah...your ass just got shown up by a teenage girl.

~The blonde snorts derisively as she takes a drag on the cigarette burning between her fingers.~

Hellraven: Oh, and by the way...good job hittin' a 19-year-old from behind. Judgin' by that kisser o' yours, I bet that ain't happened in a hot minute.

~This time, the audience chuckles right along with the rookie, who promptly continues:~

Hellraven: Now...maybe you beat up that Puffer dude, or maybe he's standin' right behind you 'bout to punk yo' ass out. I ain't know, an' I ain't care. All that matters is I'm sittin' here showin' my goddamn face...which is more'n what you did last week.

~The blonde's smug expression is replaced with her usual scorching glare as she continues:~

Hellraven: That's right, motherfucker. I could'a just dropped to your level an' made a punk outta you like what you made outta me. But that ain't how I roll. I ain't 'bout the whole chickenshit bullcrap. When I got beef with somebody, I like to work shit out the right way. An' that's why I'm sittin' here right now, callin' your bitch ass out.

~The intense look on the rookie's face is matched by the tone in her voice as she continues:~

Hellraven: Now...I wanted to have been there to actually say what I'm 'bout to say to your ugly-ass face. But flights to Florida are fuckin' expensive to be takin' 'em every week. Ain't no thing, though. What I got to say, I can say from right the fuck here. An' what I got to say is this...

~Raven leans into the camera, the better for Vossler to see how serious she is:~

Hellraven: You wanna act like you hot shit? You wanna act like wrasslin' owes you a livin'? Well, motherfucker...time to prove it. Time to put your money where your mouth is. If y'all so good that everyone gotta kiss yo'ass an' shit, I'm sure you ain't gone have no problem facin' some 19-year-old three-month rookie with a losin' record, am I right? Well...go 'head an' do it, then. Go 'head an' set a date an' a time, an' I'mma be right there, inside that there ring, waitin' for ya. Face to goddamn face. I mean...'less you scared.

~Raven's trademark grin dawns on her features as she leans forward towards the camera to add:~

Hellraven: You ain't scared...are ya, Voss?

~With that, the feed abruptly ends, leaving Vossler to stare at a black screen and mouth off at an opponent who was never there.~

Smith: She's calling him out! Good for her!

Hood: Congratulations, Raven. You have been nominated for tribute as Vossler's SECOND victim

Smith: Rude. I think Vossler assumed a 19 year old rookie would be a cake walk. Well, he was wrong about that! Hellraven is a future star in this business and her time is coming

Hood: Oh shut up. She's just some loud mouth woman who is SOOOO lucky to have been born during the MeToo movement. Back in my day...

Smith: You would have done what, exactly?

Hood: Why say it when Vossler will do it inside a ring where it's legal

Smith: Whatever. I don't know when or where these two will face off but I for one can't wait! Hellraven will give Vossler exactly what he deserves

Hood: A second victory and 2-0 record

~OCW's new signing is still vehemently voicing his displeasure with the young rookie's actions as the feed cuts backstage.~

~We cut to the office of Marcus Welsh where we find him getting a shoulder rub from Greg, who is shirtless and clearly enjoying his work as Marcus leans back in his chair with a soft sigh of pleasure. There's a solid knock on his office door and because the GM of OCW is so relaxed, he hardly even reacts and instead, just bids the knocker of his chamber door entry.~

Welsh: Come in.... in.... oooooh right there....

~Through the door steps the imposing 6'5" frame of one Bruce Rage, sporting a slate gold Armani jacket and slacks, white T-shirt, well polished brown leather shoes, designer shades, and a rather gaudy gold Rolex on his wrist. He removes his shades and approaches the desk.~

B.Rage: Am I interrupting anything, bro?

~Welsh chuckles and finally waves for Greg to stop. The intern steps around the desk and steps right into Bruce's personal space.~

Greg: You want anything big boy? Drink, massage, maybe a nice sandwich?

~Bruce quirks his brow at the man for a moment.~

B.Rage: Nah, bro. Maybe you backing off a bit, I gotta' talk business with Mr. Welsh.

~Greg rolls his eyes and waves his hand with a click of his tongue.~

Greg: Ok fine, I'll go wait over by the bar.

~Immediately Greg walks over to the bar and starts to pour a pair of drinks.~

Welsh: It's nice having a personal assistant who will do anything for you. What can I do for you, Mr. Rage?

B.Rage: Well chief, I want more opportunities. Have more matches, kick all the ass that needs to be kicked, and take whatever gold I can get my hands on. I'm a franchise player, bro! I want to do for you what College football wouldn't let me do for them. You gave me this opportunity, you signed me up! I wanna' make the most of it, but I need you to take me off the bench and put me in the ring!

~Welsh rises from his seat, naturally wary to say anything to upset this much larger and far more muscular individual than himself. Greg passes him a glass of Scotch on ice, which he promptly takes a healthy swig from.~

Welsh: You certainly are a go getter and have made quite the impression in a short time, though you did attack one of my top talents and a non-contracted individual two weeks in a row.

~Bruce claps his hands together.~

B.Rage: Hell yeah and I'd do it again if you want. You see, you don't get ahead in life without cracking a few skulls. Some people need to be put in their place and Melinda Rhodes? She's no exception. She talks high and mighty, but when she got one on one with me in that ring, I dominated. Her old man had to cheat his ass off using Kung Fu bullshit to match my raw physical power! I'm a freak of nature, a genetic apocalypse waiting to go off on anyone you want gone. Just say the word, Mr. Welsh....

~Marcus smiles as he steps around the desk and finally feeling safe around the monster in his office, he places a hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle pat.~

Welsh: My friend, I think you are going to have a wonderful future ahead of you. We'll talk more, but I think I can find more uses for you, most certainly.

~Bruce shoots Marcus a rather frightening grin, nodding his head with excitement.~

B.Rage: I won't let you down, Coach.

~As the smile on Marcus's face takes a more sinister turn, we cut back to ringside.~

Smith: Bruce Rage is a scary, scary man. And if Welsh starts backing him, look out

Hood: That's how you get ahead in this business. You go in and talk shop with the GM. These idiots like Zybala need to take notes!

Smith: The only sure fire way to get ahead is by winning inside the ring. I'll admit Rage hasn't had many opportunities...I'm sure that is likely to change.

~The camera cuts backstage. It focuses on a locker room door with Team Rocket graduation written on it. It cuts inside to a very official looking Ed. Houston and a noticeably more relaxed TLS and Warren Lapierre~

Ed Houston: “Wow you guys. It’s been a tough few weeks. When I first saw you too, I never thought you would be where you are today. You’ve blown away some of NASA’s toughest tests, you looked great last week. I think it’s time to induct you two into Team Rocket.”

TLS: “Alright. Cool.”

~Lapierre just shrugs and nods.~

Houston: “Perfect. I need you two to stand up straight.”

~Both just sort of shrug. ~

Houston: “Okay. Close enough.”

~He opens a box and takes out a pin.~

Houston: “With this I’d like to welcome you to the team. We’re about to blast off at the speed of light.”

~He pins it on TLS’ chest. Then he moves to Warren.~

Houston: “OCW won’t know what hit them.”

~He pins it on Warren’s chest.~

Houston: “Man. What a day. I’m definitely excited for the future.”

~Houston stands back with a smile on his face. Both give him slight thumbs ups~

Houston: “Great. Big things are in our future boys.”

~Houston claps~

Houston: “I have to go deal with Curt Canon right now. But I’ll be back and we’ll celebrate.”

~Houston exits the room as the camera fades away~

Smith: Interesting menagerie of talent

Hood: One NASA reject with two WOULD Be NASA rejects

Smith: I am curious to see what's going on with Houston and Canon this evening. Those two have had their issues

Hood: Maybe Ed should go and grab a tissue for his issues

Smith: That's a neat saying

Hood: Which means I'll never say it again

Smith: Well folks it's time for our second match this evening...Solomon Cain takes on an unexpected challenger in Warren Lapierre

Singles Match
Warren Lapierre (7-6) vs. Solomon Cain (2-0)

~Again we cut to the crowd who are ready for some more in ring competition. The matches seem to be picking up in entertainment value as the lineup progresses. This upcoming match could be the best of them all. Belvedere clears his throat much to the crowd’s delight~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~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: Solomon Cain is the son of the infamous OCW veteran Outcast. Outcast had some in-ring wars against the best OCW had to offer. Tonight Cain will receive his strongest test in facing Warren Lapierre.

Hood: Yea he was going to face TLS, right?

Smith: Indeed but that was changed earlier tonight. The reason behind the change remains…unexplained

Hood: Spoooooky

~“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: Lapierre enjoyed an easy victory last week. This week, however, he faces a much stronger test in Solomon Cain

Hood: Do you think Solomon Cain has a bunch of wives?

Smith: Uh, no…why?

Hood: Solomon

Smith: Your logic is insane

~Cain and Lapierre circle one another. They both look spry. They both look ready for combat. Something catches Lapierre’s eye. He turns toward the crowd momentarily. Cain rushes in and knees Lapierre in the abdomen! He shoves Lapierre into the nearby corner and delivers several additional knees, subduing Warren~

Smith: Something distracted Warren!

Hood: Is there a super-hot chick in the front row?

Smith: No, I think he’s paranoid due to all the Muffles sightings

Hood: Fucking bunnies…again? This guy must be a basket case during Easter…

Smith: ….

Hood: Get it…as BASKET case…ha ha ha

Smith: Moving along

~Cain delivers some devastating right hands to Lapierre’s head. He whips Warren across the ring. Cain charges in behind Lapierre. Warren stops short and tries to leap frog Cain but Cain catches Warren and holds him over his shoulder. He drops him across the top buckle with Snake Eyes!!! Lapierre staggers back into the waiting arms of Cain. He hooks Lapierre and tosses him over with a Tiger Suplex! He doesn’t bridge into a pin. He chooses to let go and return to his feet~

Smith: Great series of moves by Solomon Cain. He’s in total control

Hood: Man…maybe Lapierre should put the mask back on

Smith: Is that even an option at this point?

Hood: I don’t know…either way the guy looks conflicted out there

Smith: Indeed…his head is far removed from the sport

~Cain doesn’t waste any further time. He snares Lapierre and yanks him roughly to his feet. He obtains wrist control and pulls Warren forward, nearly decapitating him with a rainmaker lariat!! Warren’s body goes limp. Cain holds onto wrist control to keep Lapierre from falling all the way to the mat. He looks out at the crowd. The fans are starting to get behind Solomon Cain~

Smith: I think the OCW fans are buying into Solomon Cain

Hood: Why wouldn’t they? He’s kicked everyone’s ass so far

Smith: He has been dominant…it’s a shame we didn’t get the advertised match up against The Lost Soul

Hood: Meh, we’ll live. I’m just saddened that Warren Lapierre can’t get it together. I like his pant-less roster photo

Smith: He’s wearing pants!

~Cain hooks Warren for a piledriver. He says something along the lines of “This should be TLS!” He hooks Lapierre, lifts him up and drops him with CTE Driver (Package Piledriver)!!! Warren is finished. Cain makes the relaxed cover. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner….SOLOMON CAIN!!!!!

Smith: Easy breezy win for Solomon Cain. One has to wonder about Lapierre. Where does he go from here?

Hood: I don’t have a clue. It’s been a wild year for the guy. So much potential and, yet, here he is at 7-7

Smith: Indeed…Solomon Cain however improves to 3-0 and has big things in store. No doubt we’ll get the advertised TLS match at some point

Hood: Yea unless that masked freak keeps dodging him

Smith: There is NO proof to suggest the lineup change was at The Lost Soul’s behest

~A frustrated Cain exits the ring. It’s clear he wanted more from his competition tonight. He storms up the ramp refusing to cater or placate the fans. He flips the curtains aside and disappears backstage. Scruff is down on one knee checking Lapierre’s status~

Smith: Let’s hope Lapierre is okay. That CTE Driver is a dangerous move

Hood: Yea…what does CTE stand for? Crash Test Effect?

Smith: I don’t know…but I doubt…wait…is that…is that MUFFLES?!

~A person dressed as MUFFLES THE BUNNY hits the ring! The crowd yells for Warren to get up. Warren remains down. Muffles is carrying an ORANGE chair. He performs a bunny kick to Scruff. Scruff flies out of the way. Muffles begins smashing the orange chair onto Lapierre! The fans booooo!!!~

Smith: Somebody get that bunny out of there! He’s going to seriously injure Lapierre!

Hood: Kill Muffles kill!

Smith: You blood thirsty vagabond! How dare you!

~After multiple chair shots Muffles holds up the chair. It’s warped beyond recognition. The fans continue to boo. THE KNIFE MAN rushes down to the ring along with a team of OCW personnel. The Muffles impersonator rushes out of the ring and hops over the barricade, disappearing into the crowd. The Knife Man waves his giant knife around, yelling at Muffles. The rest of the OCW personnel tend to Lapierre~

Smith: It’s a good thing the medical team is out here. I’m not sure Muffles would have stopped his attack

Hood: Might be too late. Warren Lapierre is Mr. Crash Test Enthusiast now

Smith: Somehow I think that works better than Crash Test Effect

~Backstage. Joe Jones walks up to a door, and on this door it reads: ESM Which, if you have been paying attention stands for, Empire Sports Management. And if you have taken a second to look at your notes, you know that this is owned by Nanook. Who, if you recall, was once the agent/manager to OGDA. Who, by the way, is facing Mike Harrison at Serial Thrillers for the OCW Craze Championship. Joe, is the current agent for OGDA and last week lost his second client, ArmBar Armstrong to Nanook, when The Captain knocked ArmBar out and won this contract for contract match. Now that we’re all caught up……

~Joe looks at his phone. The text from Nanook says: “Be in my office at 8 sharp.” “You will not want to miss this.”~

~Checking the time it’s 7:59, and it just turned 8. Joe, he is right on time. He turns the handle and pushes the door open, much to Nanook’s and The Captain’s surprise!~

Nanook: “Oh! What the fuck! Don’t you know it’s rude not to knock?”

~Joe closes the behind him and slides his phone in his back pocket.~

Joe: “You said to be here at 8, it’s 8, you knew I was coming.”

~Nanook, who seated behind a desk leans back in his chair.~

Nanook: “Yes, but.”

Joe: “But nothing, you wanted me here, I’m here, I’ve got shit to do unlike you, my guy, OGDA, is 2 weeks away from capturing his first title of his career. I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

Nanook: “Boy, you sound awful, testie. Have you had some sour grapes this week?”

Joe: “Minor set back, one that I’ll correct soon enough. Besides, at least now you can boast of having a guy under contract that is actually good.”

Nanook smirks. “I couldn’t have been more prouder of The Captain here last week, the way he dominated…..”

Joe: “Oh, I’m sorry, I was talking Armstrong. The Captain, he’s just a piece of shit.”

~Joe eyes The Captain, almost daring him to make a move.~

Nanook: “Yes. Well. That is not why I called you here. As you know, Armbar, which come on Joe, is just a stupid name. He’s now a proud member of ESM, where several of my clients including yourself, before you got fat and lazy, decided to stop training and let yourself go, have been multi time champions. That is why I attract some of the top stars in this sport today, because they know, when they sign with me, their future is paved with gold.”

~Joe crosses his arms as he’s heard that line more than once. But there is some truth in that. Joe did hold 14 titles while with Nanook.~

Nanook: “A road that will soon feature The Captain, here in OCW.”

Joe: “hmmmm I bet.”

Nanook: “And, my newest client, Formerly known as ArmBar Armstrong, he will soon enjoy a successful career when these two, they team up and just destroy the tag division here in OCW.”

Joe: “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I had Armstrong signed, but I’m hearing that that contract was retracted due to Marcus not wanting to do business with you.”

Nanook laughs. “I have my own room don’t I? Marcus knows that with me supplying some top notch talent here at OCW, he’ll be rolling in the dough. Thanks to me, everyone including your boy, is going to enjoy much bigger payouts.”

Joe glances down at the floor. “Son of bitch, I knew I should have wore my boots tonight. I done and got shit all over my new shoes.”

Nanook: “Whatever Joey. Make all the jokes you want, poke fun at me all you want, you know the truth and the truth is, I am money, I bring the money. You know that more than anyone else in this building. My guys win championships, plain and simple.”

Joe: “Once upon a time.”

Nanook: “And forever. Look, we can do this all night long if you wish, but the truth is, I’m a busy man and you’re not worth my time, if fact you have cost me more than enough already tonight. I asked you here, more or less as a gesture. A gesture that despite our differences, I still consider you a good friend, and I just wanted to show you what I have done to Armstrong in only one week, one week of my training, my tutelage. In just one week, I have transformed ArmBar Armstrong into, well, look foreverself.”

~Nanook stands up, next to the desk is a door that leads to another room and Nanook quickly leans over and taps on the door.~

Nanook: “Come on out! Sarg!”

~The door handle turns and the door begins to open……

To Be Continued.~

Smith: Armbar Armstrong?! That sounds intriguing!

Hood: I hear he has a great figure four

Smith: Low hanging fruit, Hood

Hood: Cut me some slack...I'm here EVERY SINGLE WEEK

~The scene opens into the office of Marcus Welsh who leans back in his chair and oddly enough, without his office intern, Greg, around. It's as he props his feet back with a soft sight, preparing to relax that his door swings open. In steps the Rebel, dressed in full ring gear with her championship on her shoulder. Welsh slowly sits up in his seat, seemingly perplexed by Melinda standing in his office.~

Welsh: Well, this is a pleasant surprise.... what can I do for-

~Melinda cuts him off at the pass, walking straight up to his desk and dropping her belt right down on it. She leans forward on her knuckles, practically getting right in his face with that withering stare of hers.~

Rebel: That old man you were bitching about last week? That was my husband. My husband should not have been in that ring last week, but you not only let it happen, you didn't send security, you didn't protect him, you did fuck all for the spouse of one of your top competitors. If not for The Doc being a consummate professional, James might have been even worse off as I'd have had to carry him off to the local hospital.

~Welsh's brow furrows, a hint of anger flashing briefly across his face.~

Welsh: Melinda, he was a disruption to my carefully orchestrated event. Further more, who saved your life?

Rebel: *not missing a beat* Uh huh, and who saved yours, Marcus? If not for me, you'd be out on the fucking street and Mike Zybala would be getting back rubs from Greg, not you. My debt to you was paid because we both know that without this job, you're nothing. There's alot of things you could do to me right now, but we both know you didn't save me as an act of charitable goodwill, but to save your pay per view from being a complete and utter disaster. So listen and listen good, Markie Moo, if you fuck with me or allow any member of my family to fall in harms way without affording them the same protection as a paying fan in that arena out there, I promise you, I will burn your house down with you in it. Savvy?

~Marcus's expression was stern, his gaze hard, as a trickle of sweat ran from his temple down the side of his face.~

Welsh: Yes....

~Melinda smiles and pats his cheek.~

Rebel: Good..... I can be your best friend or an absolute nightmare, the choice is yours. Treat the talent right and with respect and you won't see me in this light ever again.

~With that, the Rebel gathers up her belt and starts to head for the door.~

Welsh: *under his breath* ...bitch...

~Melinda stops and looks over his shoulder.~

Rebel: 'xcuse me?

Welsh: AHEM AHEM oh nothing, clearing my throat.

~She simply shoots that sweet smile of hers and slips out the office door, heading down the hallway while whistling the beat of Halestorm's "Amen"....~

Smith: Tensions are rising between Rhodes and Welsh

Hood: Damn man...Welsh isn't making many friends tonight. But he does have a point...that old ass man had no business being inside an OCW ring.

Smith: I'd defend his actions but Melinda already did. If you weren't listening, that's your fault. Regardless it appears as though the next time Rhodes and Welsh meet outside of the GM's office it won't be to either individual's benefit

Hood: Well this is professional wrestling. Anybody who wants to have a bunch of friends in this business is an idiot!

Smith: A very sad way of viewing this business we've spent our lives calling. Anyway...onto our next match as The Lost Soul faces Talia Areano after having his match against Cain blocked for, well, mysterious reasons

Singles Match
The Lost Soul (6-4) vs. Talia Areano (5-7)

~The fans are ready for some more in ring competition! To be fair it’s not like they had enjoyed much thus far. The only match they had witnessed belonged to Vossler’s barbaric thrashing of the good detective. Belvedere clears his throat signaling that more violence is yet to come! The bloodthirsty crowd cheers~

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 Friday the 13th theme hits. The crowd pops. It’s part due to the fact TLS is coming out and part due to the fact that Halloween is, like, two weeks away. TLS stalks his way down to the ring, making his way up the steps, through the ropes and into the squared circle. Cain keeps a close watch on the OCW veteran~

Belvedere: From Parts Unknown…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Ascension Champion…he is The Lost Soul!!!

~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~

Smith: Talia Areano has had a rough go the past few weeks. Can she turn it around against The Lost Soul?

Hood: Maybe…he’s kinda sucked the past few weeks as well

Smith: It has been a rough few months for The Lost Soul. He fell short against Iggy Hardy at Mayhem on the Midway and, well, he hasn’t won much since

Hood: So…something’s gotta give?

Smith: Indeed!

~Areano is fired up. She charges at TLS with all her might. She flies through the air with a Superman punch! TLS dodges the punch! Talia flies into the corner behind TLS but manages to catch herself before enduring a rough landing. She turns around and receives a superkick to the chin!! She collapses into the corner! Her arms drape over the top ropes to keep her standing~

Smith: Talia was ready…or well she was willing

Hood: But not quite able

Smith: Not yet, anyway

Hood: No offense to Talia. But I’m pulling for TLS. We’ve got to get this man back on the winning track

Smith: OCW is a better place when TLS is winning matches

~TLS yanks Talia out of the corner and knees her in the gut. He hoists her up for a suplex. He holds her in the air before dropping her head first into the mat with a Brianbuster!!! Talia is laid out on her back. TLS returns to his feet and heads back to the corner they were in. He starts to climb~

Smith: Well this looks as though it’s going to be an easy win for The Lost Soul

Hood: Man…Talia needs to reevaluate some things

Smith: Indeed…things have…well, they haven’t been good

~TLS is standing atop the corner. He leaps off with SOULED OUT!! He connects!!! TLS makes the cover! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner….THE LOST SOUL!!!!!

Smith: TLS with a much needed win. Talia…well, I don’t know

Hood: I’m not sure Talia knows

Smith: Indeed…she’s got a lot to think about and a long way to go before she can think about contending in OCW

Hood: Yep…but, hey, at least she’s hot. Which means maybe she should step away before her looks get all fucked up

Smith: That is SO sexist

~We cut backstage yet again to the office of GM Marcus Welsh. Guy has been busy tonight! There is a knock at the door. Knux answers. Leo the High School Intern enters. The crowd goes mild~

Marcus Welsh: What is it, Leo?!

Leo the High School Intern: Sorry to bother you, sir. But Alice Knight has requested a personal meeting with you inside her office

~Welsh does his best to subdue uproarious laughter~

Marcus Welsh: An office? What is this, some kind of a joke?

~Welsh finally guffaws. He looks at Greg and Knux who laugh along with him. Leo, feeling left out, laughs. They all laugh for a good while until it becomes lame. So Welsh stops. Knux and Greg stop. Leo keeps laughing~

Marcus Welsh: LEO!

~Welsh slams his fist into the top of his desk. Leo is startled. He stops laughing~

Leo the High School Intern: Sorry, sir. But it’s apparently legit

Marcus Welsh: I am NOT stepping foot into that RV of hers. No way.

~Leo hands an unsealed envelope. Welsh removes the paper within~

Leo the High School Intern: Her office is apparently somewhere within the building

~Welsh stares at a set of instructions drawn in CRAYON. He shakes his head. He waves Leo away. Leo exits~

Marcus Welsh: I guess I’d better go see what this crazy bird, cat lady wants. Knux, Greg, keep a close watch on things while I’m gone. This, hopefully, won’t take long

~Welsh stands and exits~

~OGDA and Joe Jones are standing in front of the OCW banner with OGDA holding his bestest friend in the whole wide world in his arms, I am of course speaking of Spartacus, his kitty kat. Joe pats OGDA on the back.~

Joe: “Do you hear that?”

OGDA: “Hear what Mr. Jones?”

Joe: “That.”

OGDA: “I don’t hear anything other my Sparky hear purring. He’s such the little purring machine he is.”

~Joe smirks and pets Sparky.~

Joe: “Besides Sparky here. Do you hear anything else?”

OGDA: “No. Am I suppose to?”

Joe: “One would think so. You see, in two weeks, OGDA here, this one man wrecking crew that has taken OCW by storm, he will get his hands on the Craze Champion, one Mike Harrison. If there is one thing I know about Mikey, it’s that he likes to run his mouth. Every week, he’ll remind everyone how he won that Championship in just his 3rd match in OCW. He brag about how no one in OCW that has been placed in front of him have been able to defeat him. He just loves to remind anyone listening of those two facts.”

OGDA: “He’s been doing very good for himself Mr. Jones. Mr. Harrison should be proud of what he has done here in OCW. Not everyone can say that they are the Craze Champion and undefeated.”

Joe: “That OGDA, is the truth. Not everyone can lay claim to that, and while little Mikey will no doubt remind you, me and everyone watching this from the comfort of their living room couch. There is one thing, one subject, one fact, Our Crazed Champion is refusing to acknowledge. He has a match in the not so far distance that is starring him in the face. A date, that is going to change Mikey’s time in OCW forever. It’s the event of all events, the one moment in time he can’t ignore, he can’t wish for it not to happen. He can choose to not talk about it all he wants, but it’s not going to change the outcome, and that outcome.”

~Joe slaps OGDA on the back.~

Joe: “Is when this man, this rainbow flag waving hero is going to drastically scramble Mike Harrison’s future here in OCW. Mark it on your calendars, set a reminder in your phone and set the DVR, subscribe to whatever steaming app you have to, click the subscribe, set the alerts, do the click click done, because in two weeks, there will be a new champion. A new Craze Champion and in two weeks, no one will ever have to hear Mike say the following: “I’m undefeated. I won this in my 3rd match in OCW. I’m awesome!” Cuz that falsified little bubble you live in, is going to be popped. And it’s going to come crashing down all around you when OGDA here, abruptly smashes you in the face and takes that Craze Championship away from you. And when it happens, that arena in New Orleans is going to jump to their feet, show just how their happy they are because for once, they’ll have a champion that they care about. That they can get behind and root for. This man, he doesn’t run away from a fight. He doesn’t back down from a challenge and more importantly.”

~Joe leans in towards the camera.~

Joe: “He isn’t scared of no one in OCW. By your actions Mike, we know, they know, everyone knows, you are afraid of Orgulloso Guardián Del Arcoiris. But don’t worry, that burden of being a hollow, meaningless champion, will soon be over with. OGDA, he’s coming.”

~Fade out. ~

Smith: Strong words from Joe Jones as OGDA prepares for his bout against Mike Harrison in two weeks at Serial Thrillers

Hood: OGDA is kind of an idiot. But he's a big, strong idiot. And, well, judging by the career of Iggy Hardy...those types of people do well here

Smith: I hope Mike Harrison doesn't think like you otherwise he may underestimate OGDA. The man has been nothing short of incredible during his short OCW career. One win in two weeks could very well vault him into the upper echelon of the company

Hood: Sure, sure

Smith: Well I'm being told Welsh has nearly located Alice Knight's office! Let's head backstage to see what's going on! I can't wait!

~We cut backstage. We are DEEP inside the bowels of the OCW arena. Welsh is trying to follow this crudely fashioned map. He makes his way down a dark, narrow path of stairs~

Marcus Welsh: Where the hell am I going? Why am I even doing this? What is it with this woman? She’s able to lure me into the most ridiculous situations

~The crowd is already chanting “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” Thankfully the already annoyed Welsh can’t hear the chants. He stumbles upon a door that is obviously labeled “BOILER ROOM” However the BOILER ROOM label has been covered up with giant letters cut out of a magazine to read “ALICE KNIGHT DRESING ROOM” The crowd goes wild! Welsh lowers his head and places his hands on his hips~

Marcus Welsh: For the love…she misspelled Dressing

~Welsh knocks because, well, he’s a man of decorum. A voice sounds out from within~

Alice Knight: Enter my liege!

~Welsh frowns. He really, really wants to leave. But, alas, he enters to find Alice Knight standing inside a boiler room~

Alice Knight: Mr. Welsh. Welcome to my humble abode. Over there to your right is the kitchen. And to your left is the bathroom. Or... the other way around. Either way it's a bucket with water and I promise I won't peek if you have to make a number 2... just watch out for the bowls and cups.

~A loud cat groan can be heard within the boiler room. Alice without hesitation throws a rock in its direction. Welsh walks around carefully. He doesn't like hanging around dirty places and, well, this feels like the dirtiest place ever. He also wonders why CATS are in the boiler room. He locates a low hanging pipe and jumps up, latching onto it. He pulls his body up and takes a seat atop the pipe to avoid stepping into anything nasty. Looking down at Alice while perched on the pipe he speaks~

Marcus Welsh: We couldn't have met in my office? How long have you been down here, anyway? And why are there CATS?!

Alice Knight: Yes... yes... WHY are there cats? The ultimate question. I ponder it too. God didn't create them, not my God anyway. Do you believe in the almighty? We should talk. I have plenty of good theories on life, death, space. We could toke a doob and write a really trippy script and... wait... is this STILL about the NEW FACE of OCW you're pushing? Mr. Welsh, I got that covered. It's me!

~Alice says this as she flicks what appears to be an earwig insect off her shoulder. Welsh looks around for a higher pipe to sit on. Suddenly he doesn't feel as safe as he did when choosing his elevated positioning. Alas the pipes are too high and too risky to sit on. If he were to fall and injure himself that means ZYBALA would be in charge and, well, nobody wants that! So he remains seated, stomaching the grime~

Marcus Welsh: No offense, Alice. But the only time you'd be the face of anything would be milk cartons produced by CJ after no showing a second picnic themed date. The FACE of OCW is coming. And I have hand selected you as the sacrificial lamb to put him over in his debut match. Surely you can see the sense in that. For reasons I'll never know you're massively over with the OCW fans. I can only guess the drugs in Key West are extra heavy. After defeating you in his debut match the new FACE of OCW would skyrocket into stardom. It's perfect...perfect I say! Aside from one, little detail. What the HELL is Zybala up to? Why was he walking into your trailer last week?

~Alice holds the bridge of her nose thinking~

Alice Knight: Zybala was in my trai-? Right. Yeah, Because he is on to you. And so am ME! Bringing in this new talent. Another Slappy McGoo? If you do decide to go through with this new 'face' of OCW. And trust me, there's still time to back out. But myself and Zybala want it to be a fair ol' fashioned fight. He knows you'll be lurking around this NOOBS corner. So he wants to be in mine. So i made him a canned stew meal, extra beefy, and we're on the same page going into Serial Thrillers. And these OCW fans are loyal to me. They won't jump ship to a bigger, fancier probably insanely well hung party boat. Nope. They will float with me or sink and die with me. God... I hate boats. Can I do another analogy? So there's two planes heading to New York.,,

~A visibly agitated Welsh hops off his perch. He lands on the ground. A loud GROAN is heard...it's a feline groan. Welsh and Alice both look down and wince at what COULD be a crushed cat. Welsh steps to the side and starts wiping the bottom of his shoe off against the wall. He talks while doing so~

Marcus Welsh: Make all the analogies and stew you want! The fact of the matter is this is MY OCW and I will see my vision through. You think having that psycho Zybala in your corner will help? It won't. He's probably dumber than you are. It's going to take more than that to stop the man with the talent to lead this company into 2019.

~Welsh pauses, checking his shoe. There are red streaks with hair lining the wall behind him. He steps toward Alice~

Marcus Welsh: But I will do you one favor, Alice. It's probably more than you deserve but I'm a fair and honest man. I will invite you to meet your opponent at next week's Massacre. The new FACE of OCW will be revealed.

~Alice looks confused but shrugs as she leans in for a kiss but Welsh cringes. Alice leans back~

Alice Knight: Okay. I read that all wrong. But Marky Marcus, you can count on me to be there next week to see this so called face in person. Now do me the favor and get the hell out of my office. I need to use the ladies room, aka the toilet/sink. Whatever it is. Smell ya later, booger lips.

~Welsh hesitates for a moment. He's never dealt with someone like Alice before. Alice heads for the sink. Welsh snaps out of his hesitation and bolts for the door, slamming it shut and leaving Alice in privacy to do whatever it is she does. Once outside the boiler room he inhales deeply, taking in what he deems CLEAN air. He pulls out his cell phone and calls Knux~

Marcus Welsh: KNUX! Thank goodness. I need you to clear out the locker room and Clorox the shit out of the shower. I badly need to get in there. Plus get some disinfectant. I think I may have contracted some form of Herpes.

~Welsh hangs up and gets as far away from Alice's office aka The Boiler Room as possible~

Smith: Haha!! Oh man she’s the best!

Hood: Poor Welsh. Guy is probably going to die of some unknown disease before the end of the year after spending five minutes in that place

Smith: Oh please…it wasn’t THAT dirty

Hood: Riiight

Smith: I am interested to see where all this is going. Zybala is backing Alice. Welsh is backing the new FACE of OCW. And next week it will all come to a head. Next week we will find out who this new FACE is!

Hood: That person is going to be better than Alice, that’s for damn sure

Smith: NOBODY IS BETTER THAN ALICE

Hood: Calm down! For fuck’s sake, man

Smith: Sorry but you know how I get when you trash talk my girl

Hood: You are a very strange, weird man

Smith: I for one can’t wait to find out who this person Welsh keeps hyping is and, well, I’d say the hype has worked because I am eager to watch Alice face this person at Serial Thrillers! We will get our answers next week! But, for now, it’s time for more in ring action as the Paradigm Champion takes on The Uber Man!

Singles Match
Non-Title
Andrea Hernandez © (4-1) vs. The Uber Man (2-3)

~We’re nearing the end of tonight’s in ring action. The fans can sense it. They know some serious shit is about to go down. They are abnormally quiet at the moment. Perhaps in anticipation of what’s to come. Belvedere clears his throat much to their glee!~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Non-Title match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~“Hero” by Nickelback hits and the fans chant in unison “UUUUUUUUUBER” Uber Man emerges from behind the curtain looking renewed! There’s a faith in his eyes. He appears ready to take on his impending challenge! He hustles down the ramp without tripping. The guy is spry this evening! He slides into the ring, ready for action~

Belvedere: From Rancho Cucamonga, California…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 195lbs…he is The Uber Man!!!

~Uber hops up onto the middle rope but becomes terrified of the height and steps, cautiously down to the bottom buckle. He poses for the fans~

Smith: Uber with a big challenge tonight. He’s facing the current Paradigm Champion, Andrea Hernandez

Hood: I would say IF he wins he might be in line for a shot but, I mean, c’mon

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She she acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for the match to begin~

Belvedere: From Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is the OCW Paradigm Champion…Andrea Hernandez!!!

~Hernandez receives a strong ovation. She removes her Paradigm Title and hands it to Belvedere. He exits the ring with the title. The bell rings~

Smith: Uber hasn’t had much luck lately…in fact he’s taken quite the beating

Hood: Yea, I think the rise of LYFT has really got him down

Smith: You think?

Hood: Either that or he’s becoming increasingly self aware

~Andrea stares at Uber. Uber Man gives her an exaggerated thumbs up! Its obvious Andrea isn’t a huge Uber Man fan. But, it’s the opponent OCW has thrown her way this evening. So, she swallows her pride and goes about her task in taking on the challenge set in front of her. She approaches Uber who is standing in the middle of the ring. She bounces around, light on her feet. Uber shuffles his feet and rotates around, trying to keep Andrea in front of him. Andrea isn’t moving in a manner to lose Uber…Uber is just kinda, well, slow with low in ring awareness~

Smith: Andrea Hernandez has fought and trained her entire career to face the very best within those ropes.

Hood: Yes and tonight she is facing The Uber Man

Smith: Definitely not the type of match she envisioned during all her training

Hood: Nope, but this is OCW. You have to expect the unexpected. One week you’ll be facing a submission specialist…the next week you could be facing a clown from Abu Dhabi

~Uber suddenly takes off for the ropes. It’s a surprising move to say the least. The fans almost break into laughter due to the clunky and strange way in which Uber goes about in executing the unexpected strategy. He hits the ropes and charges, screaming at Andrea. Andrea throws a stiff kick into Uber’ s chest. It connects!! He falls right onto his back, clutching his chest. He gasps for air. The kick knocked the wind right out of his lungs~

Smith: Yikes…that’s the type of kick that will make a simple Uber driver re-think this whole wrestling thing

Hood: It’s the type of kick that would make a guy looking for a one night stand re-think buying Andrea Hernandez a stiff drink

Smith: Indeed

~Andrea paces around Uber’s body. He sits up, awkwardly. He is slow to his feet. He finally stands, albeit with a weak base. Andrea throws a kick into his gut, doubling Uber over. She heads through the ropes, standing on the apron. She leaps up and springboards off the top rope toward Uber. She grabs Uber by the head and drops him to the mat with a Springboard Tornado DDT!!! Uber’s head is driven directly into the mat!! The crowd pops! Andrea is fast to her feet looking strong and fired up~

Smith: She’s so graceful when she takes flight

Hood: Yea she’s like a jet liner whereas Uber is a crop duster

Smith: Hmm

Hood: You think he’s worse than a crop duster? You saying he’s like a shabbily built paper airplane?

Smith: I didn’t say that!

~Andrea points toward the ropes. The crowd goes wild! She steps through the ropes back onto the apron! The fans know what’s coming. She leaps up and balances on the top rope. She springboards off with her signature somersault senton! She connects!!! The crowd yells with joy!!! Andrea makes the easy cover. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings. Andrea pops to her feet in celebration~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…the OCW Paradigm Champion…ANDREA HERNANDEZ!!!!!

Smith: Andrea Hernandez scores with Sky High to secure the easy victory!

Hood: I may not be the biggest fan of women’s wrestling. But I’ll say this…Andrea Hernandez is pretty fucking good

Smith: That she is. Now, if only she had an opponent for Serial Thrillers. We’re only two weeks away!

Hood: Oh I’m sure we’re going to find out soon enough…

~As if on cue a man wearing a black hoodie slides into the ring. He’s toting something heavy under his arm. Andrea receives her belt from Scruff. Their backs are turned toward this intruder. The crowd jumps to their feet! They point for Andrea to turn around. She does and is DRILLED in the head with the blunt object!! She falls to the mat, dropping her belt. Scruff slides out of the ring in an act of self-preservation. The crowd BOOS heavily. The man in the hoodie thrust the hood back to reveal MACK O’CONNOR~

Smith: It’s Mack! What’s he doing out here?!

Hood: Staking claim to what’s rightfully his! Welsh TOOK that title from him. He never lost it!

Smith: He forfeited his right to hold the title by challenging Meyhu

Hood: Sounds like more WEAK ASS BOOKING to me

~O’Connor locates Andrea’s title. He kicks it out of the ring. The crowd boos even louder. Andrea tries to sit up. O’Connor helps her to her feet and drops her with CLAYMORE!!! She’s down and knocked out. O’Connor gets back to his feet and grabs the item he brought into the ring. He holds it up high…it’s the OLD Paradigm Title~

Smith: That’s the title Mack never lost. The title he PAWNED away before Mayhem on the Midway

Hood: Forced to pawn

Smith: He wasn’t forced to pawn anything! If that title meant so much to him he wouldn’t have pawned it

Hood: He loved it so much he wasn’t willing to let anyone have it!

~Mack tosses the title over his shoulder and calmly exits the ring. He heads up the ramp with a determined look. The crowd boos and begins a ‘FUCK YOU!’ chant directed at the former Paradigm Champion. Mack doesn’t care. He stops at the apex of the ramp and holds the old Paradigm Title up once more, for good measure. He indicates that HE’S the true Paradigm Champion. The crowd naturally rejects this notion~

Smith: Yea, good luck getting that to stick, Mack. Andrea is our Paradigm Champion. She deserves it!

Hood: Dose she really? I mean she did beat Axel Veiga for it

Smith: Axel may be gone from OCW but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a viable contender

Hood: I keep hearing about Andrea, Andrea…and, yea, she’s talented. But let’s see her take on a true OCW talent. I say put her up against Mack. Make her EARN the Paradigm Championship by defeating a REAL champion.

Smith: That may very well happen, Hood

~We cut backstage to the office of Marcus Welsh. He seems quite pleased with his company at the moment. Serial Thrillers is only two weeks away. The new FACE of OCW will be debuting very soon. Rumors that a Hall of Famer wants back into the company are gaining steam. It’s a great time to be Welsh without having to be Welsh. Welsh’s hair is wet indicating he’s fresh out of the shower. He is filling out some necessary documents pertaining to the Serial Thrillers event, its venue and some contracted labor to handle the mass of fans. There is a knock at the door. Welsh throws his head in the direction of the door. Knux stands. He opens the door to find THE CHAMP standing on the other end. The fans inside the arena BOOOO. Meyhu has his OCW title over his shoulder and a smile on his face. Welsh leans back in his chair with a huge smile. Greg, seated in the corner with his legs crossed admires the Marvel’s physique~

Marcus Welsh: It’s the CHAMP! To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?

Matt Meyhu: Hey boss! Before I head out for the evening I wanted to make sure you were going to follow through on our agreement.

Marcus Welsh: Head out? But, champ, we still have our Main Event! It's a tag team championship bout!

~Meyhu ignores Welsh and snoops around the GM’s desk. Welsh seems to know exactly what he’s looking for. He pulls out a drawer and places a rectangular, wooden box on his desk. It’s old, scratched and covered in dust. Meyhu eyes it for a second before blowing the dust away. It hits Welsh in the face causing Marcus to cough~

Marcus Welsh: Eck, man, that’s a lot of dust, champ. I didn’t see it coming.

~Meyhu spots the initials “L.W.’ engraved. They had been hidden under the thick coat of dust. He smiles~

Matt Meyhu: Perfect! Now, before I leave I’d like to see you follow through on our agreement.

Marcus Welsh: Oh so you’re going to be sticking around longer than expected? That’s great because this tag title match with the Lockwoods challenging Rhodes and Langston should be…

Matt Meyhu: Pssh

~Meyhu waves his hand dismissively at the notion of watching any match involving the names he’s already forgotten~

Matt Meyhu: No way. I have places to be. The champ is in high demand. That’s why I’m going to need you to handle this right now.

Marcus Welsh: Like now…now?

Matt Meyhu: Yes, like right…now.

~Meyhu points his finger down at the ground for emphasis. Both men pause for a moment contemplating if this mannerism really does suggest that the time is now or if it’s just something they assumed. Meyhu’s doubt in confidence is fleeting as he’s the most arrogant man in OCW history. So he instantly moves on~

Matt Meyhu: Don’t worry, I’ll sit here and make sure nobody messes with your stuff.

~Welsh stands and is quickly replaced by Meyhu, who plops down into the GM’s chair as though it were a natural fit. Marcus looks around as if to ask “what just happened?” He picks up the box and heads for the door. He pauses for a second~

Marcus Welsh: Well, alright then. I’ll see you when I get back?

~Meyhu shrugs as if to say “whatever” and begins to play on Welsh’s computer. Marcus waves Knux to come along with him. Knux does as instructed, shutting the door behind him. Greg stands~

Greg: You look awfully tense, champ. Right around the shoulders. Would you care for a massage?

~Meyhu pauses his computer game and eyes Greg unsure of what this man’s motive may be~

~Belvedere stands in the center of the ring with an announcement to make~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome at this time the General Manager of OCW – Marcus Welsh!

~The crowd boos heavily! A ‘ZYBALA’ chant breaks out. Welsh appears from behind the curtain sans music. He’s toting the wooden box we saw earlier inside his office. It appears to have less dust on it than before. Welsh calmly makes his way down the ramp, up the ring steps, through the ropes and into the ring. He takes in a deep breath, allowing the crowd enough time to calm themselves. Fucking animals. Once it becomes semi-obvious they aren’t going to simmer to anything beneath mildly upset Welsh moves forward~

Marcus Welsh: Alright. Welcome to Monday Night Massacre everyone! We are just two…count them, if you can…

Random Fan: HEY FUCK YOU

~A fan near the front row with only one finger due to some type of tragic WELDING accident yells at Welsh for mocking his inability to count to two on his hand. Welsh’s face turns slightly red. He whispers to Belvedere who rushes to security. They head over and give the man what appears to be free passes to Serial Thrillers~

Marcus Welsh: We are two weeks away from OCW’s next Super Show. Serial Thrillers will air from New Orlenas, Louisiana and has a chance to go down as the greatest event in OCW history. In doing so it will surpass what was, in my opinion the greatest event in OCW history – Lost at Sea.

~The crowd pops for Lost at Sea. I mean, it was a great event. However there is a smattering of individuals who chant “MAYHEM” This bothers Welsh for obvious reasons~

Marcus Welsh: Yes, Lost at Sea set the standard for greatness here in OCW. But, Serial Thrillers has a great chance at surpassing it. Lost at Sea offered many features which helped build it into a historic event. One of those features was the one night only return of the OCW Oceanic Championship. Alice Knight defeated Bradley Carrington for the retired belt. It was an idea that sounded great in theory and turned out to be even greater in execution.

~A huge “OWL IS NIGHT” chant breaks out. Welsh rolls his eyes furious that he mentioned that horrid woman’s name. He pushes through the chant knowing his next announcement will kill this OWL IS NIGHT insanity~

Marcus Welsh: So, in the spirit of the Oceanic Title. In the spirit of Lost at Sea. In the spirit of making Serial Thrillers the greatest event in OCW history I decided to resurrect another ghost from OCW’s past. Right here, in this box, resides the retired OCW LightWeight Championship.

~The crowd goes wild! They vividly remember all the great LightWeight matches from OCW yesteryear. The great champions. The LightWeight Title truly holds a special place in OCW history~

Marcus Welsh: There was a time when the LightWeight Championship was second ONLY to the OCW Championship. I mean, just think of all the great names who have held this belt. Arryk Rage…

~The crowd laughs~

Marcus Welsh: Okay, so maybe he wasn’t so great. But how about some of these other names…Tatum Coe! El Linchador! Enigma! Josh Allen! Pete ‘Pornstar’ Parker! Silver Cyanide! Jin Royale! Jason Stone! And, of course, Curt Canon!

~The crowd pops for each and every name. The loudest pop comes at the end for Canon. It morphs into a huge “CANON!” chant. Welsh pauses, smiling. He doesn’t mind the Canon chant~

Marcus Welsh: By my count that is FIVE Hall of Famers who have held this belt. Pretty impressive, I’d say. So, why should this belt be hiding in the OCW warehouse? Why shouldn’t it be attached to the wall in a deserving wrestler’s trophy room? That’s where it belongs. So, I’m here to announce the man who will go down as the FINAL OCW LightWeight Champion. The man most deserving of this honor. The greatest high flyer of 2018 and quite possibly the greatest high flyer in OCW history. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you the new and final OCW LightWeight Champion…

~The ‘CANON’ chants get louder with anticipation~

Marcus Welsh: ED HOUSTON!

~The crowd grows quiet. They didn’t expect THAT. “ROCKET MAN” hits as Ed Houston emerges from the back. He’s smiling. This honor doesn’t seem completely unexpected although he’s certainly trying to play it that way. He rushes down the ramp and slides into the ring. He pops to his feet with his hands in the air. The crowd is split. They like Ed but they don’t really think he’s deserving of being the final LW champion. At least, not without a fight~

Marcus Welsh: Congratulations, kid. I wanted to make this announcement here tonight so that everyone can get preparations ready for a huge coronation on October 29th at Serial Thrillers. I’ve already sent invites out to all the former LightWeight champions. It’s going will be a night OCW shall never forget. The night when OCW finally put the LW division to rest.

~Figure 8 by Trust Company Hits, and the crowd pops hard as former OCW Heavyweight Champion, but most importantly former OCW Lightweight Champion Curt Canon emerges from the curtain and stares down at the ring. He shakes his head in disgust as he raises the microphone to his mouth.~

Curt Canon: “Typical Welsh bullshit. Ya know this shit would have never happened if Prez Dean was around, but that was when OCW was at its peak and people actually had to earn their spot and earn their gold. Now what, Ed comes here wins a few matches, wins one title and buddies up to Meyhu and gets a title that I held near and dear to me handed to him? A title that me and all the other former champions you just mentioned helped make the second most prestigious title in OCWs history? Not on my watch. I used to like you Ed. Used to think you were a stand up guy who understood that opportunities needed to be earned. That respect needed to be earned, that power and glory and championships needed to be earned, but now you are just going to stand there and accept this title because what? You think you are deserving? You think you are the best high flyer that OCW has ever had? The best Lightweight that OCW has ever seen?”

~Curt lowers the mic and waits for a response from the “New OCW Lightweight Champion.”~

Ed Houston: “I have earned every opportunity I’ve gotten. I took the Craze Championship and raised it to the second most prestigious championship in the company. And yeah, I’m friends with Meyhu. We go way back. I’m friends with multiple people in OCW don’t be mad because the only person that wants to hang out with you is a monkey.”

~He points to the Light Heavyweight Championship~

Ed Houston: “As for this championship, it represents that I am the best high flyer in OCW today. It represents that I will be the best high flyer in the future. It’s just another reminder that I am the future, and you’re the past Curt. I don’t care if you like or respect me. I don’t have much respect for someone that constantly feels the need to attack as soon as my backs turned. I have the respect of all the fans out here and just as importantly, I have the Light Heavyweight Championship in my hands.”

Curt Canon: “ Like I told you two weeks ago Ed, I am not the one attacking you from behind, In fact I’m pretty sure last time I “attacked” you it was to your face. Standing here talking about having respect, you think this crowd respects you? Half of them weren’t even sure if they should cheer when you got that title handed to you. Then they heard my music and knew exactly what to do. They knew exactly what to do because they know that when I won that title you are holding I earned it. You talk about raising the Craze Championship to the second most prestigious title in OCW…..There were only two titles in the fed Ed, of course it was going to be the second most prestigious one. That is fine though, sit there hold that belt up live in your fantasy land and act like you deserve everything you get. You aren't the future, you are barely the present and In order to become the future you have to defeat the past, you have to dethrone those that came before you. You have to prove yourself, prove your worth. Show everyone that you deserve to carry this fed and that belt into the next couple of years. Until then you will only be a legend in your own mind.”

Ed Houston: “Prove myself by putting this championship on the line against you?”

~Ed smiles and eyes the belt before staring back at Curt~

Ed Houston: “Would the OCW universe like to see that match?”

~They cheer even louder than for each individual~

Ed Houston: “At Serial Thrillers?”

~The crowd reaches a fever pitch. Ed smiles. ~

Ed Houston: “Curt, you might think I’m some sort of scared champion but I’m not. I did whatever it took to defend the Craze Championship for as long as I could. I’ll defend this Lightweight Championship against you.”

~Ed smiles one more time~

Ed Houston: “And you can even pick how we send out the OCW lightweight division.”

~Curt Canon thinks for a brief moment~

Curt Canon: “ Awwww bae! That is so kind of you. Offering a shot at a title you didn't win and don't deserve to me. I accept with pleasure, but know that I don’t recognize you as the OCW Lightweight Champion. This match isn't Champion vs Challenger, this match is Former Champion vs You. And as for picking how we send out the division…..Let's have a match I have never been involved in. The OCW Lightweight Championship will be decided in an Ultimate X match!”

~The crowd cheers loudly excited to see the so called past and future of OCW collide in what can be a show stealing bout. Curt waits for the cheers to die down before speaking again.~

Curt Canon: “I mean, that's only if Marcus feels like it’s a good idea to have a championship decided the right way.”

~ Ed and Curt both stare at Marcus and await the confirmation they both know is coming.~

Marcus Welsh: Is that something you fans want?

~As if Welsh really had to ask. But the crowd goes wild! If the roof COULD blow off the arena based on the level of fan reaction this roof would be soaring through the Key West skyline. Alas that’s fucking impossible. So we’ll just say the arena is deafening with cheers and screams of OCW fans~

Marcus Welsh: Well then…I guess there’s nothing standing in our way of seeing Curt Canon take on Ed Houston for the OCW LightWeight Championship in an Ultimate X Match! This will be the final LightWeight match in OCW history! The winner will close an epic chapter in OCW lore!

~The crowd goes wild! Welsh keeps the title for himself considering a match is now going to take place. Ed is cool with this. Curt is definitely cool with this. The two men continue to talk shit while Marcus gets out of the ring with the LW Title. The crowd engages in dueling chants of “CANON” and “HOUSTON”~

Smith: Curt Canon versus Ed Houston at Serial Thrillers to close out the OCW LightWeight Division? Oh my gosh! What a match!

Hood: Good luck following that match, seriously. Those two are going to tear New Orleans up!

Smith: Indeed…you can mark this match down as the early favorite for match of the night!

Hood: Maybe even match of the year!

Smith: Wow…great call by our GM. I’ll give credit where its due. This was a money making, ticket selling addition to an already hyped event!

~Welsh reaches the top of the ramp where Knux greets him. Knux had apparently been standing watch from behind the curtain all this time. Welsh hands him the belt and follows Knux back as we cut away~

~As OCW programming returns from an Ovaltine commercial, we pan the beautiful landscape of the foothills of Tennessee. A mansion comes into frame. We’ve seen this mansion numerous times over the years. Built with blood, sweat, and tears. It is none other than VARGASLAND!~

Hood: Did you know Chad Vargas daddy’s daddy owned 12 slaves?

Smith: No I didn’t know that? But is that a stat that we should be stating on television?

Hood: Rumor has it, former OCW competitor and Vargas’ family alumni, Mason Dixon STILL owns a couple.

Smith: Ugh… ladies and gentleman, my apologies…

Hood: I could see myself as an overseerer back in the 1900s.

~An OCW executive can be seen making the cut throat sign as the cameras quickly return to that old plantation homestead owned by none other than the ruthless southern rebel himself… CHAD FUCKING VARGAS. We see Chad shirtless on his Troybilt lawn mower rocking a pair of ember tinted prism Oakley TOP OF THE LINE SWEET ASS FUCKING SHADES. Something Rick Eastman would wear. Vargas cruises around his front yard. Funny Chad Vargas’ family is alleged in the slave trade yet every time we see Vargas at his lavish estate, he’s doing his wife’s chores. It’s common knowledge he vacated the premises upon the divorce. As Vargas rips around on his mower with a Budweiser tall boy nestled safely between his legs – we catch another glimpse, and we cannot believe our fucking eyes. IGGY HARDY in nothing but a bright PURPLE speedo plays hopscotch in Vargas’ driveway…~

Smith: This sickens me. You have two of the highest paid OCW superstars a mere weeks away from huge matches and here they are……

Hood: ???

Smith: One is mowing his lawn and the other is playing freaking hop scotch!!! I can’t believe it!

Hood: And there isn’t a damn thing Marcus Welsh can do about it! I love their new style.

Smith: With Treat Cassidy out of town this week – the possibilities are endless, I guess.

Hood: I heard that Treat Cassidy is paying Vargas an extra 100k just to babysit Iggy until Serial Thrillers.

Smith: A baby babysitting a baby!

Hood: I guarantee you wouldn’t say that to his face.

~Like clockwork, not missing a beat, Vargas reaches his left arm up from the steering wheel and flips the camera the bird as if giving Smith a message. As Vargas makes another pass with the lawnmower, blue lights are seen in the distance. Like a true junkie lunatic, Iggy eyes the police officer in the distance. He clutches his the crucifix from around his neck and tries to do the “CAWW CAWWW” noise to alert Vargas but he can’t hear him over the mower. Vargas takes a haul off his Budweiser as he turns the corner – like a true SAVAGE he destroys his ex wife’s petunias growing in the southeast corner of the lawn. I mean, he absolutely wrecked the motherfuckers. Jumped the rock wall around them and all. The police officer parks his cruiser just off the mouth of the driveway as Iggy’s “CAWW CAWW’s” get fainter as the PIG gets closer.~

Hood: SHIT!!! These two are going to jail.

Smith: Marcus Welsh and OCW Management will have NO CHOICE but to terminate both of their contracts.

Hood: You are such a snowflake.

~Vargas still has no idea about the cop quickly closing in. He’s your typical fuckboy cop, cheap gas station shades and a guido haircut. Not to mention the midlife crisis gang tattoos. The cop eyes Iggy as he walks past. Iggy waves, like a smitten teenager – he doesn’t know what else to do, why not flash a dorky wave. What a doofus. Vargas takes another pass around, when he turns he notices the coproach walking toward him. He kills the mower and lowers his shades, eyeing the dumb shit as he walks right toward him. Vargas looks at him as if to say “What do you want, bitch?”

Cop: Nice day, eh?

Vargas: If it wasn’t – I wouldn’t be mowing my lawn, eh?

~The cop swallows hard. His ego already bruised. We see Iggy peering through the rose bushes, nervous and geeked the fuck out, obviously.~

Cop: Got any ID?

~The cop does the infamous cop thing where he raises his hand and puts his index finger and thumb a few inches apart, you know, about the size of a driver’s license. Vargas squints his eyes and looks at this guy like he’s got four heads.~

Vargas: Seriously?

~Maybe now the ego of CHAD VARGAS is bruised…~

Cop: Uh, yeah. Identification.

~There he goes again – dumb pig makes that stupid ass hand motion again.~

Vargas: I don’t present identification unless I break the law – but I’ll give you this, youngster, if you don’t know who I am – you’re either clueless or you ain’t got a colored television set.

~The cop chuckles.~

Cop: Listen. I drove by an…..

Vargas: No, you listen, chief…

~Vargas takes a chug off his beer and places it back between his legs.~

Vargas: You have no authority here. So, I suggest you climb back into that jalopy of yours and beat feet. This ENTIRE block is PRIVATE PROPERTY. Thus, you have authority about…. 2 miles THATTA WAY.

~Vargas points toward the end of VARGAS WAY. Before the cop can embarrass himself further, Vargas presses on.~

Vargas: When you pay my bills and property taxes – then you can tell me what to do. Until then, young buck, SEEYA LATER.

~Vargas is about to fire his lawn mower up but the cop makes a huge mistake and places a hand on Vargas mower. Quickly the cop realizes he may of made a mistake as the two of them have a little Mexican standoff right there on the front lawn of 100 Vargas Way. We still see Iggy peering from through the rose bushes. Trying to hide as if he was a WWII private gathering intelligence from a group of krauts. That is – how fucking nervous he looks, anyway. Vargas takes the last haul off his beer not taking his eyes off this stupid cop.~

Cop: I could arrest you for DWI. Know that. I don’t care who you are. You aren’t above the law.

Vargas: Neither are you, rookie. You’re nobody. You ain’t got shit over me until I BREAK THE LAW. Private property doesn’t count. I could legally blow your fucking head off for trespassing.

Cop: Oh? Now you’re threatening a law enforcement officer?

Vargas: Go enforce laws and fuck off. You must be a Matt Meyhu mark, ahh? Coming around trying to hem me up on some stupid shit so that I miss the journey to New Orleans? You’re gonna need a little more then drinking on a lawn mower even IF I was out in public. What is driving under the influence these days anyway? 48 hours in county lockup and a $500 bail? I could pull $500 from the crack of my ass right now. You should go back to the drawing boards, youngster. Everyone thinks I’m broke because I got divorced. Classic Matt Meyhu thinking. How pathetic is this guy? A typical bootlicker arranging for a SHITTY police officer to show up at my house? Did you think you we’re going to throw some weight around and I was gonna end up blowing you?

~The cop doesn’t like being owned like this. He takes a deep breath. He would LOVE to arrest Chad Vargas and whip his ass while his hands were cuffed behind his back.~

Cop: Matt Meyhu didn’t send me.

Vargas: Uh huh.

Cop: I do hope and pray Matt Meyhu does SMOKE your ass at Serial Thrillers though!

Vargas: Right. Big Scary Matt Meyhu with his childish demeanor and pitiful way of life. You see that guy over there?

~Vargas points over to Iggy who quickly dives into the bushes to hide. The cop maneuvers around but can’t quite see him.~

Vargas: Anyway… that guy over there, has fucked Meyhu’s wife ASSHOLE six ways to Sunday.

~Vargas motions for Iggy to come over. He reluctantly stands up and walks very slowly over to Vargas and the cop.~

Vargas: Tell this dipshit about Matt Meyhu’s wife.

~As Iggy approaches he can see that Vargas has this situation totally handled. Cool dude Iggy comes out to play as he eyes the cop up and down. Flashing him his signature dorky toothy smile.~

Iggy: YUCK! I’d rather fuck Josie Barnes AGAIN and AGAIN then to touch his hideous behemoth of a wife. You know I heard she has pussy lips the size of garage doors? You know what though? Officer………

~Iggy eyes the police officer’s name plate. It reads M. Gaheough.~

Iggy: Officer….. GAYHU!?!?!?!? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

~The cop takes a deep breath. God damn he’s getting owned by these two SAVAGES. As Iggy laughs so annoyingly loud right in this cop’s face. The cop quickly attempts to correct Iggy.~

Cop: It’s … Gaheough. Pronounced GEY-HAYYY.

~Iggy still laughs.~

Iggy: WHATEVEZ!

~Iggy pulls his crucifix from his neck and spins the top off dumping a GRAM sized pile of powder on the back of his hand. He wastes no time sniffing the fucking shit out of the RHINO line on his hand right in front of the cop. He takes a deep breath…. Everyone seems to wait for him to say some stupid shit like BAWWWZZZIIIILOOOOOOOOOO or whatever but surprisingly he doesn’t!~

Iggy: Know what, babycakes?

~The cop looks stonefaced. He doesn’t answer. He tries slowly backing away to get to the safety of his cruiser.~

Iggy: I think I’d rather taste you then Meyhu’s dog ass ugly wife. Look at that ass in that costume of yours! MmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMM! Whatcha think, Chad?! DECE right?!

~Vargas rolls his eyes, hanging his head. Its official… the cop is 100% TOTALLY FREAKED OUT. He slowly backs further toward his car.~

Iggy: MMmMMMM girl!!! C’mon….

~Iggy grabs at his crotch and gyrates his hips toward the disgraced Matt Meyhu loving cop. Vargas looks down at the ground shaking his head. As the cop reaches his car, he quickly reaches the door and opens it jumping in the driver’s seat. Iggy LUNGES at the cop cruiser as the cop quickly attempts getting it in reverse. Iggy THROWS a WILD head butt at the cop car, SPIDER WEBBING the windshield. As the cop backs the car up, Iggy LAUNCHES a right haymaker at the driver’s window SMASHING the window to smithereens. The cop squeals his tires as he quickly FUCKS OFF down the road! Vargas shakes his head, disappointed.~

Vargas: Why you always gotta ruin it!?

Iggy: What? The guy was a shitpoke! Big deal so I fucked his windows up a wee bit? Why do you care?

Vargas: I don’t care about the windows you MORON! Why you gotta get so gay with shit?

Iggy: What? I’m horny.

Vargas: God damn man. Just when I start to like you, you take a sharp turn off the fucking course. Man I’m not with that gay shit. I hate fags and so does our lord almightly. Have you ever read Leviticus? C’mon!

Iggy: Chad… What DO you like? Don’t like black people, don’t like jews, don’t like fags, don’t like lesbians, don’t like trans, don’t like your wife’s fucking petunias by the look!

~Iggy swipes his hands toward the MURDERED flowers as he looks on in horror. Vargas can’t help but to chuckle a bit.~

Iggy: Lighten UP! I’m gonna have you a gun toting, rebel flag flyin, beer drinkin , MOPAR drivin, pussy eatin, LBGT lovin, motha fucka by Serial Thrillers!

Vargas: Iggy…. I will personally blow your fucking head off if you do that queer shit in my presence again.

Iggy: Bad time to tell you I’m planning on SINKING 9-1/2 inches into VICTOR LANGSMORE’s SWEET ASS at Serial Thrillers!? HEHEHEHE

~Vargas makes a fist and acts as if he’s going to punch him. Classic Iggy just puckers his lips and winks.~

Vargas: Fuck off… I’ve gotta finish this lawn before the bitch gets home.

Iggy: YOU’RE SAVAGE!

~Vargas shakes his head as he hops back onto his mower and fires the sum bitch back up. Iggy laughs as he sniffles walking back to his ‘game’ of hopscotch as the scene fades.~

Smith: WHAT did we just see?

Hood: CLASSIC!!! WONDERFUL TELEVISION, THAT’S WHAT!?

Smith: Two IDIOTS. How DARE them disrespect that wonderful LEO?!

Hood: Don’t be such a sheep, Smith. Those two motherfuckers are BARBARIAN!

Smith: That’s what you call it?

Hood: Could call them SAVAGE’S… but they are like 6 steps higher then Savage status. Fucking PRIMITIVE!

Smith: They are something, that's for sure. Chad Vargas will, of course, get his shot at Matt Meyhu for the OCW Title at Serial Thrillers. Iggy, meanwhile, will defend his Savage Title against Vincent Langston at the very same event

Hood: Going to be the greatest night in Treat's life!

Smith: And speaking of Langston...up next he will team with Rhodes to defend their OCW Tag Team Titles against The Lockwood Party! This match should be a great one! Let's head down to ringside to find out WHO will walk out with the gold!

Main Event
OCW Tag Team Championship
Legendary Trifecta © (3-0) vs. The Lockwood Party (0-0)

~The crowd is on their feet and ready for some main event action! A second title match in 3 weeks? What the shit is going on? Belvedere clears his throat and the crowd goes wild~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our main event of the evening! The following match is a tag team match scheduled for one fall and it is also for the OCW Tag Team Championship!!! Introducing first…

~"PUNCH IN THE FACE" BY FRENZAL RHOMB begins to play. The fans watch as The Lockwood Party makes their way to the ring. They hit the bottom of the ramp and rush toward the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope~

Belvedere: From The East Bay, California…Tim and Jack…The Lockwood Party!!

~Jack Lockwood marches around the ring riling up the crowd while Tim leans back in their corner, ready for their opponents~

Belvedere: And, their opponents…

~"I Am Legend" echoes through the arena, followed by the build-up of the music. The claps and heavy beat are joined by lasers and flashing lights as the music blasts out. Vincent Langston walks out on the stage, a stoic look on his face as he walks towards the ring. He jumps over the ropes, lands in the ring, and lets out a loud yell to the crowd, before turning back to his corner~

Belvedere: From Washington, D.C…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 230lbs…Vincent ‘The Legend’ Langston!!!

#BLACK VULTURES CIRCLING THA....
#BLACK VULTURES CIRCLING THAA...
#BLACK VULTURES CIRCLING TTHAAA...

#SSSSSSKKKKKKKKYYYYYYY!!!!!

~Halestorm's, "Black Vultures" assaults the P/A system. Through the curtains steps a fit, pale skinned, raven haired and heavily tattooed woman, her fist raised up in the air. Her dark brown eyes wander over the crowd as she stands upon the stage, taking it all in for a moment. On her face we find dark crimson painted on her full lips and red highlighted black eye shadow over her eyes. Her modest chest is contained by a fringed red and blue leather vest, her ass covered by black and silver tights. She sports standard black pads on her elbows and knees, with knee high laced wrestling boots to match. On her wrists are red, white, and blue bands. Upon her hips rests a thick black leather belt with a large and square silver buckle that reads in an ornate font, "REBEL." ~

Belvedere: ON HER WAY TO THE RING....

~She makes her way to the ring with a confident stride. It doesn't take her long to reach ringside. She climbs the steps, wipes her feet on the apron, and slips through the ropes. Rebel Rhodes then backs into a corner of her choosing and waits.....~

Belvedere: FROM ROME, GEORGIA, STANDING AT FIVE FEET AND ELEVEN INCHES TALL AND WEIGHING IN AT ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY TWO POUNDS...

RRRRRREEEEBBBBBEEEEEELLLLL RRRRRRHHHHHHOOOOODDDDDDEEEESSSSS!!!!

~Melinda raises her arm with a three finger salute to the fans. The crowd gives Rhodes a great ovation. She turns and slaps Langston on the chest. Vincent’s Tag belt is draped over his shoulder. Melinda’s is secured around her waist. They remove their belts and hold them up in the air to a huge ovation from the fans~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the OCW Tag Team Champions…Legendary Trifecta!!!

~Belvedere receives the tag belts from Rhodes and Langston before exiting the ring. The bell sounds. Langston steps through the ropes. Rhodes will begin the match for her team. Tim Lockwood steps out. Jack rushes over and surprises Rhodes with a flurry of punches!! The crowd boos! Knowing he can’t stand in their corner for too long he whips Rhodes out of the corner and lifts a knee into her gut before she can take off. Rhodes flips over and lands on the mat, holding her midsection in pain. Langston kicks at the apron, angry he didn’t make the tag in time. The crowd boos Jack Lockwood~

Smith: The Lockwood Party is off to a hot start in this one! Those Lockwoods are nothing if not opportunistic

Hood: They have been so close to winning the OCW Tag Team Titles so many times. Tonight could be the night, Smithereens. I mean they did sort of get this shot out of nowhere

Smith: Yes, it definitely was one of those “huh” bookings

Hood: The roster is woefully short on tag teams. And you know the Lockwoods…they are always up for a fight.

~Jack throws a few stiff kicks into Melinda’s back. He drops to his knee and applies a chin lock from behind. Rhodes fights back, powering up to her feet. She throws a few well-placed elbows into Jack’s abdomen. Jack stumbles into the ropes, Rhodes whips him off the ropes…Jack reverses, hugs Melinda, lifts her up and drops her with a Belly-to-Belly Suplex!! The crowd boos! Jack sits up on the mat while Rhodes arches her back in pain~

Smith: Great wrestling early on by Jack Lockwood. He is by far the more polished member of the team

Hood: Yea, Tim is basically like a Broke Ass Mack O’Connor

Smith: A bit harsh

Hood: But not totally untrue

~Lockwood returns to his feet and snares Rhodes by the hair. He viciously tosses her into his team’s corner. He charges in with a shoulder to the midsection. Tim reaches in and tags his brother on the back before entering the ring. Jack stands and whips Rhodes out of the corner. She charges at Tim and is met with a vicious clothesline!! Rhodes whips backwards, slamming into the mat!! Tim goes for a quick pin while Jack heads for the apron~

1!

Kick Out!

Smith: Too early to even attempt a pin fall on The Rebel

Hood: Hey you don’t know unless you try!

Smith: True

Hood: Tim’s my favorite Lockwood, by the way. He just likes beating the shit out of people

~Tim remains on his knees and throws a few stiff right hands to the top of Melinda’s forehead. He returns to his feet and stomps on the Rebel a few times, keeping her down on the mat. The crowd seems to be growing restless. They are booing Tim’s actions. He doesn’t really care. The guy moves around as though there isn’t any crowd…this may as well be an empty warehouse as far as he’s concerned. He pauses for a moment before turning and sprinting at Langston, belting him with a forearm! Langston falls off the apron to the floor. The crowd continues to boo. Jack gives his brother a round of applause~

Smith: The Lockwood Party are in total control. I always forget how arrogant and disgusting they are

Hood: Arrogant and disgusting? What have they done that’s disgusting?

Smith: Just you wait

Hood: You seriously are the most blatantly biased announcer in the history of OCW

Smith: Well considering there’s been, at most, three announcers in OCW history…that wouldn’t be that difficult an achievement. Although I still disagree with your assertion

~Tim heads back for Rhodes but is surprised by a small package!! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!

Smith: Rhodes nearly stunned The Lockwood Party!

Hood: Pay fucking attention, Tim…geezus!

~Tim rushes to his feet still trying to figure out what happened. Rhodes pops back to hers. She appears nearly fully recovered. She delivers a few knife edged chops to the chest of Tim Lockwood. He backs into the ropes. She whips him off the ropes. He sprints across the ring. She leans against the ropes and shoots off…they meet in the middle as Rhodes SPEARS right through Tim Lockwood!! The crowd pops huge!! Rhodes returns to her feet, looking for Langston. He isn’t on the apron. She looks down over the top rope, urging her partner to get into position. Langston, on his side, shakes his head, stunned. Rhodes turns back around to deal with Tim~

Smith: What a spear!!

Hood: She dove straight for his cock!

Smith: She did no such thing! She is happily married!

Hood: I know what I saw

Smith: You are confused by what you thought you saw

~She bends down, grabbing Tim by the hair. Tim responds with a quick thumb to the eye! Scruff, out of position as always, misses the illegal tactic. Rebel stumbles backing, reaching for her afflicted orbital socket. Tim scurries to his corner, tagging in Jack. Tim returns to his feet and charges at Rhodes. Rhodes ducks and lifts Tim over the top rope all the way to the outside! He lands near Langston, who is on his feet, leaning over the apron. Rhodes stands up but is met with a boot to the midsection by Jack! Jack quickly hooks Melinda, lifts her up and drops her into the center of the ring with a Vertical Suplex! Rhodes hits hard~

Smith: An interesting form of misdirection. Tim basically sacrificed his well-being so that Jack could regain the upper hand on Melinda

Hood: That’s called brotherly love. Just goes to show you don’t have to go to fucking Philly to find it

Smith: You have something against Philadelphia?

Hood: Yes.

~Jack is back on his feet understanding that remaining on top of Rhodes is key at this point in the match. He yanks The Rebel to her feet and applies a front face lock. He clamps down, almost turning it into a Guillotine. But, he decides to remain on his feet, choking some of the air out of Melinda. The crowd is growing restless, eager for some action. Rhodes throws a vicious punch into Jack’s kidney. It’s obvious by the contortions in his face that the punch was well placed and effective. She throws another. Again Jack appears in a state of discomfort. Rhodes is about to throw a third when Jack takes her to the mat with a Swinging Neck Breaker!! The crowd boos! Melinda reaches for her neck while Jack rubs his pummeled kidney~

Smith: There isn’t a wrestler on this roster more savvy than Melinda Rhodes

Hood: Man you don’t punch a Lockwood’s kidney! He needs that thing for all the booze he drinks

Smith: Maybe he should cut back on the alcohol

Hood: Smith, you go too far

~Outside the ring, Langston looks down at Tim. He takes the high road and returns to the apron. Tim remains on the floor, rolling around in pain from the fall over the top rope. Jack snares Rhodes and locks in a cravat to increase the damage done to her neck. Rhodes looks more frustrated than anything. She fights to her feet and throws a few sharp elbows into Jack’s midsection. Jack finally breaks his cravat and Rhodes lifts a knee into his face!! Jack whips back, sharply, slamming into the mat. Rhodes drops to a knee, holding her back and rubbing her neck. The crowd is cheering for her to make the tag. Langston extends his long, muscular arm, eager to wreck some shit~

Smith: Here we go! Get Vincent in there and this one is likely over

Hood: Ah so you don’t think the woman can handle her business

Smith: I said no such thing!

Hood: It was heavily implied by the words that came out of those sexist lips

~Rhodes gets to her feet and heads toward Langston. Vincent suddenly vanishes! Tim yanks his legs out from under him causing The Legend to fall and smack face first onto the apron! The crowd boos! Tim laughs and mocks them. Rhodes reaches through the ropes, snaring Tim by the ears. She yanks him up onto the apron. Tim turns around, eyes wide, begging for a reprieve. The crowd is yelling “KICK HIS ASS!” Before Melinda can give the fans what they want she’s attacked from behind by Jack!! Tim flies off the apron and into the barricade! Jack hooks Melinda around the waist and tosses her across the ring with a Release German Suplex!! Melinda is folded up with her knees damn near next to her ears. Jack scurries over, jumping onto her legs for a pin~

1!

2!

Kick out!!

Smith: The Rebel kicks out again! Man she’s tough!

Hood: Well if she hadn’t been attempting assault on the innocent Tim Lockwood she wouldn’t have been tossed on her head.

Smith: Oh please…these Lockwoods have been bending, if not BREAKING the rules all evening!

Hood: Blah blah blah

~Jack slaps the mat in anger. He grabs Rhodes by the legs and drags her into the center of the ring. He looks to lock in a figure four. Rhodes fights him off, kicking and throwing punches whenever his head is within range. Jack decides to abort. He hooks Melinda’s legs under his arms, looking for a slingshot. Melinda, though, shows tremendous strength in her core and is able to sit up and climbs onto the front of Jack. She tries hooking a front face lock of her own, perhaps attempting a Tornado DDT. Jack, though, attempts to throw her over his head, using her own momentum. This whole rigmarole ends up with Rhodes hanging upside down behind Jack. He’s got her legs hooked…he slings her forward and slams Melinda into the mat with an Alabama Slam!!! The ring shakes with impact!! Jack goes for another pin~

1!

2!

Shoulder Up!!

Smith: She’s so tough. She’s going through so much in this match yet refuses to be pinned

Hood: I had no idea she had such anathema toward siblings

Smith: Huh?

Hood: It’s obvious she desperately wants the Lockwoods to fail which leads me to believe she hates all siblings, everywhere

Smith: That’s some flimsy inductive reasoning

~With Rhodes still on the mat, Jack returns to his feet. He hits the ropes, shoots off and performs his variation of Rolling Thunder!! It connects!! Rhodes is flattened on the mat. Jack heads for the nearest corner. Outside the ring we see Tim going after Langston. Vincent is trying to get back to his corner. Tim grabs Langston from behind and spins him around. He throws a right hand but Langston blocks it!! Vincent reaches out, grabbing Tim by the throat! He lifts Tim up and tosses him into the crowd with a chokeslam!!! The fans all move out of the way and Tim SPLATS onto the unforgiving cement surface! The back of his head snaps back, banging into the ground! He grimaces at first before going motionless. The crowd at ringside goes wild! Langston steps up onto the apron, extending his hand, cheering his partner on~

Smith: And Vincent Langston may have committed murder for the first time on OCW television in over 4 years.

Hood: What do we call the Truda incident, then?

Smith: Accidental suicide is what I’ve been told

Hood: ah, okay

~Jack reaches the top rope and looks down at a vulnerable Rebel. The crowd boos. They really don’t like these Lockwood guys. Jack leaps off with a Shooting Star Press…only it’s his variation of a Shooting Star Press…something he calls a Shooting Star Knee Drop. It sounds ridiculously vicious. Unfortunately, we’ll never know just HOW vicious because Rhodes gets her knees up!! Jack’s chin lands right into her knees, snapping his head back!! He falls to his side. He could be knocked out!! The crowd goes wild!! Rebel rolls onto her stomach and eyes Vincent. She makes her way toward him~

Smith: Here we go! Both Lockwoods are down! If Rebel can make the tag then we’ll see a monumental shift in momentum

Hood: Fuckin hell. Why are all the WORST people winning big matches in 2018?

Smith: I’m loving this year! It could feature more Alice Knight but, hey, nothing is perfect

Hood: The lack of Alice Knight is the one silver lining to 2018

~Rhodes reaches Langston and makes the tag!! The crowd goes wild!! Rhodes rolls out under the bottom rope and sits atop the apron, recovering. Langston leaps in over the top rope showing MEYHU like agility. Jack is on his feet, holding his chin. He’s stumbling around like a drunk man. Langston charges forward and drills Jack with a shoulder block!! Jack’s body flies through the ropes, landing roughly on the apron. He manages to cling to the bottom rope to keep from going all the way to the outside. The crowd is on their feet, they are frenzied! A “LEGEND” chant breaks out~

Smith: These fans are firmly behind Vincent Langston! And why shouldn’t they be? He’s might be OCW’s next big star

Hood: He’s got to win tonight and get through Iggy at Serial Thrillers

Smith: Indeed, two major tests

~Jack climbs to his feet using the ropes. Langston punches Jack in the gut through the ropes. Jack doubles over. Langston reaches over the top rope and grabs Jack around the waist. He lifts Jack up into a powerbomb position, spins around and drops Jack onto the mat with a sitout Powerbomb!! He holds on for the pin! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

Kick Out!!!

Smith: Jack Lockwood kicked out!! I thought it was over!

Hood: Yes! Maybe we’ll finally see some justice! Maybe we’ll finally have tag champs worth rooting for!

Smith: Oh get over Syren and Canon’s loss already, would ya?

Hood: NEVER

~Langston displays freaky athleticism by quickly and seamlessly transitioning into a ground and pound! He’s on top of Jack before Jack can sense anything happening. Langston throws rights and lefts down at Jack’s head. Jack does what he can to cover up but it becomes pretty obvious that he’s going to be knocked out unless he taps. We cut to the crowd where Tim is still on his back. He hasn’t moved an inch. The crowd is going wild, cheering Langston on~

Smith: This is going to get bloody and brutal if Scruff doesn’t stop it

Hood: Pssh…typical OCW bullshit. Call for the match to end thus screwing the rightful champs

Smith: So you’d rather see Jack get his face bashed into oblivion

Hood: No way, man. What I’m saying is Jack is about to turn this into a triangle. Then he’s going to choke Langston out. Which is so obviously NOT what OCW wants

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood

~Scruff does something unexpected. He leans in to try and get Langston to calm down. Vincent, though, is in a fury. One of his elbows strikes Scruff in the face!! Scruff falls back, onto the mat. Langston doesn’t even notice. He continues to pummel Jack. We see some blood starting to leak out of Jack’s head and nose, down the sides of his face~

Smith: Okay, I think this might be enough

Hood: You THINK? He’s already killed Tim. Now he’s going to give Jack a closed casket viewing

Smith: Well let’s hope it doesn’t go that far

~The crowd turns toward the entrance. The camera cuts that way and we see Bob Grenier rushing to the ring~

Smith: It’s Bob Grenier!

Hood: Yes!

Smith: Bob Grenier is a very close friend to The Lockwoods. It’s no surprise to see him out here given what’s taking place

~Grenier slides into the ring. He delivers a flying knee to the back of Langston’s head!! The crowd is stunned! Some are cheering others don’t know how to react. Langston falls to his side. Jack rolls onto his side. His face is nearly covered in blood. Grenier grabs Langston by the head. He pulls Langston up. He lifts him onto his shoulder and drops him with Hollinger Park Hangman!!! Langston hits hard and goes limp! Grenier pops to his feet and yells a shit load of obscenities down at Langston. Rhodes hits the ring! She charges at Bob and leaps through the air with a crossbody! They hit the ropes! Both go tumbling over the top to the floor! The crowd is ravenous! They are wild! It’s a scene, man~

Smith: Hollinger Park Hangman!! Langston is out!

Hood: Look at Rhodes interfering on Grenier. Classless

Smith: Are you kidding? Grenier stuck his big Canadian nose into this match and turned it up on his head! Legendary Trifecta might very well lose their belts due to his run in

Hood: So you’re mad at the guy for saving someone’s life? Given the fact Tim is dead…well, that basically makes Grenier Tom Hanks from Saving Private Ryan

Smith: No it does not

~Rhodes manages to land relatively safely with Grenier’s body absorbing most of the blow. She pops to her feet. Grenier struggles to his. Once Bob is on his feet he receives SHOT IN THE DARK! From Rhodes!!! The crowd goes wild. Meanwhile, inside the ring we see a bloodied and beaten Jack throwing his arm over Langston’s chest. Scruff looks up. Rhodes is out of position so she’s forced to look on in horror~

1!

2!

3!!!

NO! SHOULDER UP

Smith: Did he…he did! The Legend got his shoulder up!

Hood: Are you fucking serious? Fuck that guy!

Smith: Whoa, calm down, Hood

Hood: I can’t calm down! The Lockwoods should be OCW Tag Champions right now!

~Melinda pumps her fist in excitement. It’s great to have such a strong tag partner. She sees Langston crawling toward an empty corner. She hustles over and hops onto the apron in position for a tag. Jack Lockwood is on his back looking up at the lights. His face is coated in a thick, dark shade of red. Langston tags in Rhodes! The crowd chants “REBEL!” as she steps through the ropes~

Smith: And The Rebel is back in the ring!

Hood: C’mon, Jack! Pull an Iggy Hardy! You can do it!

Smith: Barring an unexpected influx of cocaine being thrust into Jack Lockwood’s blood stream…I don’t see an Iggy Hardy style comeback any time soon

Hood: A man can dream, can’t he?

~Rhodes is poised to pounce. She allows Jack the opportunity to get to his feet. You have to admire Jack’s toughness. He’s probably got some form of crippling CTE going on in his brain…yet he gets to his feet. He sees the visage of a human (Rhodes) and throws a wild punch. Rhodes ducks…she catches Jack as he spins around and drops him with SHOT IN THE DARK!! The crowd goes wild!! Rhodes makes the cover with Scruff sliding in to count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings to a huge ovation~

Belvedere: Here are your winners…AND STILL OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS….LEGENDARY TRIFECTA!!!!!

Smith: A huge win for Legendary Trifecta as they avoid the dreaded title loss in their first defense

Hood: Man how close to the Lockwoods have to come before finally winning those tag belts?

Smith: They’ve feuded with Awe.Some, The Dravers…they’ve been here for years and have yet to capture those belts. Maybe someday

Hood: They took a fucking beating tonight but, ya know…I think it made them look tougher than ever

Smith: Indeed…the Lockwoods are double tough. Here’s hoping they rebound

~Jack rolls out of the ring. Grenier is on his feet, suffering the effects of SHOT IN THE DARK. He starts for the ring but Jack stops him mentioning ‘Tim’. Bob helps Jack down and they hobble toward the barricade. Tim is still down. They climb over the barricade. The crowd parts, giving them plenty of space. Bob and a bloodied Jack pick Tim off the ground and drape each of his arms over their shoulders. Together they carry an unconscious Tim through the crowd, to the back. The OCW fans give the trio a standing ovation and show of respect~

Smith: They may not be my favorites but, at the end of the day they are still human beings. Let’s hope Tim Lockwood is okay

Hood: Oh now that they’ve lost you’re willing to put them over? You son of a bitch

Smith: My mother was an upstanding woman!

~Haelstrom's "Killing Ourselves to Live" hit's the house PA as Langston and Rebel meet in the ring. The referee presents them their title belts and they dink the belts together. Vincent climbs the nearest post, hoisting his belt high in the air and roaring in triumph to the fans. Meanwhile Melinda motions for a microphone and the time keeper tosses one towards her. She catches it one handed, flicks the switch on the side, and addresses the crowd~

Rebel: Kill the music!

~And instantly the music dies. Vincent hops down, casting an odd glance towards the Rebel~

Rebel: Alright... Last Two Weeks, Bruce Rage and Jacob Hotstuff have attacked me and a loved one directly. I'm up in this bitch looking to get even and unless I put something of value on the line, I already know that those two will back down. Now, I have something of value for them, the OCW Tag Team Championships.

~Langston's brow raises and he motions for a microphone from over the ropes. Getting one tossed to him, he catches it, and brings it straight up to his mouth, taking only a moment to flick the live switch.~

Langston: Now hold on a damn minute! There are more deserving people than those two clowns! Why give them any kind of a shot? You're giving them what they want!

~Melinda slowly tilts her head at Langston.~

Rebel: Am I? You sure they really want to see the business end of two smoking barrels, because that's what we are, Vincent.

~She then looks to the crowd, belt raised high in the air.~

Rebel: I'm going to give them exactly what they want because the truth is, Jacob.... Bruce, you want none of this. You want NONE of the Legendary Trifecta!

~Just in time, the Black Eyed Peas' "Where is the Love" plays to turn the tides on their emotions...short lived as it may have been as the man appearing was not the object the OCW Tag Team Champions was expecting, but instead was the 'silverfox' as he were, the wily, ever-cunning, and well-spoken personal counsel of Jacob Hotstuff - Jeff Jones himself! Jeff was dressed as well as he spoke, which meant the classic three piece suit pressed to impress with a silk tie over silk shirt and tucked into his well-woven blazer...and of course, his ensemble would be completed with a live mic~

Jeff Jones: Is this how you want to go about things, Miss Rhodes? Ranting and raving like a lunatic fringe because the superior entertainer got the better of your significant other? Tsk, tsk.....jealousy is really not a good look on you.

~Melinda stared intently at Jeff and his manner of speaking down to you in a very professional sounding way. She had to be fuming on the inside though, but if you knew Mel even a little bit, then you already knew this~

Jeff Jones: Ahem. Now if you'll allow me.... Jeff lightly clears his throat, it is my privilege, my honor, to introduce to you, the reason you paid to see this show, he is the Savior of the Sunset Strip and the Sultan of Sexy. He is YOUR reigning, defending, undisputed International Hollywood Champion....the man who wishes to be hailed as the REAL Juke Box Hero and Jesus of Hollywood.....JAAAACCCCOOOOOBBBBB!! HOOOTTTSTTUUUFFFFFFFF!!

Jeff Jones: And his partner, the Bro of Bros, the living, breathing, walking, talking billboard of Bros Before Hoes, the incomparable, the remarkable, the pectacular...BRRUUUUCCCEEEE!! RAAAGGGGGEEEE!!

~All the Good Things' "For the Glory" starts to play into an abrupt record scratch and a lead in from Foreigner's "Juke Box Hero" with Bruce Rage stepping out dressed in a white T-shirt, slate gold Armani jacket, slacks, well shined brown shoes, designer sunshades and rather gaudy looking gold Rolex on his wrist. Jacob right beside him however, was dressed in a rough pair of jeans and a sleeveless denim cut hung over a black faded Griffin Hawkins t-shirt with a "J" badly spray painted over the "G" with an electric guitar slung over his back and of course - the International Hollywood title firmly displayed around his waist, faceplate gleaming under the lights!~

Jeff Jones: I present, the two most in demand, of this brand - the beast in the sheets and the Hollywood Dream...

Melinda Rhodes: Can it old man, you just love to hear yourself talk don't you?

~Jacob took the mic from his personal counsel, addressing Mel directly~

Jacob Hotstuff: Mel. Mel.........good to see you again, I trust your old man is recovering nicely from his hospital bed? How many of his vertebrae did we snap out of place? How brave of you to leave his side and come up here just to call me out... with a smirk, he continued, you begged and begged for the attention of the hottest act in show business to-date, now you have it. Is that why you dragged yourself away from your beat up old man, crocodile tears down your face, because you had to beg for my attention?

~With a snap of her head towards him, The Rebel casts Jacob a withering stare that actually causes the man to slightly flinch beside Bruce.~

Rebel: Begging you? Motherfucker, you provoked this fight from day one. You laid hands on me and then laid hands on my man with your Bro Code bullshit. Here's the deal, buttercup. Me and Vincent are putting these titles on the line at Serial Thrillers against you and Bruce Rage, two on two, No Disqualification Tornado Tag! You want these belts boys? You want your shot at becoming something more than a pair of big talking loud-mouthed punk bitches? Here's your chance, but you're going to hell for it! There's only one catch. Me and Vinnie win? You BOTH leave OCW and never. fucking. return.

~As Jacob began to speak, Bruce raised his hand towards his friend and pulled a microphone from the back of his pants.~

B.Rage: So let's get this straight, the two of us against the two of you, with me and Jacobro having size, weight, and power on our side, in an environment with no rules, anything goes, and we can do whatever we want, but if you win, we're gone forever?

Rebel: Damn skippy, sunshine. Take it or leave it.

Langston: Rebel... I don't know about this.

~Jacob snickers~

Hotstuff: Awww, is the so-called Legend afraid of fighting the man known only as Hollywood Jesus?

Langston: Hhhheeeeeelllll no I'm not. The only thing scared of you is your own reflection, boy!

~Bruce grins and nods his head~

B.Rage: You know what, I'm down, are you down Bro?

~Bruce looks over at Jacob who strokes his chin, does what appears to be a little quick one-handed math, counting off fingers and dividing a two somewhere, then shooting an evil smile~

Hotstuff: Like shooting fish in a barrel. There's no way Mel can beat both of us by herself........

~Langston bristled visibly, his jaw set and brow furrowed.~

Langston: Don't sweat Iggy, worry about yourselves because You're getting smoked at Serial Thrillers!

*HUGE FACE CHEER!*

~Rebel fist bumps Langston with a grin~

Rebel: THAT'S THE SPIRIT!!!

~Bruce barks once more....~

B.Rage: Yeah, you two just signed up for YOUR LAST MATCHES BITCH!!!!

~The crowd is going wild. The OCWTron flickers. We are shown a shot of GM Marcus Welsh. His hair has dried from his recent shower. Meyhu appears to have gone home. The GM has a smile on his face~

Marcus Welsh: Hmm.

~The crowd begins chanting "YES!" and "DO IT!"~

Marcus Welsh: The battle tested tag team champions defending against a man with two OCW matches under his belt and his tag partner who, well, has even less OCW in-ring experience. Hmm...

~The fans are dying to see this! They implore Welsh to sign it. Welsh appears to come to a decision~

Marcus Welsh: If it were any talent other than Jacob Hotstuff I'd veto the shit out of this idea. However, given the parties involved I'm going to go ahead and sanction the match!

~The crowd goes wild! Rhodes turns to Langston and slaps him on the chest, fired up. Langston flexes, staring at Hotstuff and Rage. Rage stares back at Langston while Hotstuff exudes arrogance~

Marcus Welsh: At Serial Thrillers Legendary Trifecta will be defending their OCW Tag Team Titles against BroCode in a No DQ, Tornado Tag Team Contest! If BroCode wins, well, they get the obvious prize. If Legendary Trifecta wins then BroCode must leave OCW. Congratulations everyone, you've got your match!

~The OCWTron cuts off leaving the parties involved celebrating the announcement along with a lively crowd~

Smith: What a match! My gosh! This could go down as the greatest tag title match in OCW history!

Hood: There's no way Welsh is going to let Hotsfuff leave OCW. Legendary Trifecta just fucked themselves

Smith: I don't think so, Hood. Rhodes and Langston beat the very best OCW had to offer to win those belts. They will be the overwhelming favorites heading into Serial Thrillers! You'd better enjoy Hotstuff these next few weeks because come November he will be OUTTA HERE

Hood: You shut your whore mouth!

Smith: And on that note it's time to say goodbye! Thanks for tuning in this week! As always I'm Smith and this is Hood...so long, everyone! We'll see you next week!

~Fade to black~