OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, November 19th 2018
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Another Monday night is upon us! Unlike most Mondays THIS Monday signals the start of a holiday week. Thanksgiving is Thursday which means one thing and one thing only. People will morph into animals Friday morning. My gosh the idiots who go wild for Black Friday deals. You could say it almost resembles a battle royal. But, that would be insinuating that battle royals are far more violent than they actually are. Fucking animals. Tonight, while we won’t see any middle aged women rip at one another’s hair and clothes for a toy their kid will grow tired of by March, will provide for some intense action! The weekend was long. We probably (definitely) drank more than we should have but, hey, that’s okay. YOLO, AMIRITE? That case of beer sure went fast. That’s what we think, anyway while looking into the fridge and spotting one beer left. The last remaining soldier. The soul survivor. Or is it sole? I think it’s sole. Fuck me. Anyway, Death March is ONE MONTH away so that means more teammates will be announced. That signals a shift in the breeze. That signals returns, debuts, all the hullabaloo that comes with exciting television. That means we need to sit our ass down on the couch and pay attention. And that’s exactly what we do. We snare a coconut water, a real water, and a bottle of aspirin. We turn the TV on to see that sweet, sweet OCW logo. It transitions into the Massacre logo and we are ready to go! We cut to the OCW Arena which is live and sold out. The fans are super stoked for tonight’s festivities. It’s clear these people are either drinking or didn’t drink yesterday. I mean, just look at the energy! We flash to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me as always is Hood.
Hood: I really hope I win my fantasy game tonight
Smith: Thanks for that. I’m glad your attention is where it needs to be.
Hood: Always. So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?
Smith: I was going to cook a turkey and some mashed potatoes. Nothing fancy. Was hoping Alice might come over.
Hood: Ugh, that sounds nasty. So you’re telling me you like to celebrate the mass genocide of a race of people?
Smith: I never said that! I have great sympathy for the Native American population
Hood: Oh so you think Thanksgiving is a sham and wish to publicly shit all over one of our country’s greatest holiday traditions?
Smith: I didn’t say that either!
Hood: You are on indecisive bitch
Smith: Leave me alone. Folks we’ve got a huge night planned tonight. Melinda Rhodes returns to action. Eon Night and Mfer are set to debut. Hellraven faces Paralysis in a match neither really can afford to lose and, in our main event, Bob Grenier and Ed Houston square off for a shot at Vincent Langston’s Savage Championship.
Hood: Sounds rad
Smith: Rad indeed! We’ve got a great night ahead of us so get ready, fans because Massacre is officially under way!
~Backstage hanging out in the hallway is Joe Jones who is on his phone and looks to be deep in thought. OCW’s Superhero Champion OGDA comes wandering up with the belt around his waist and his kitty Spartacus following him like a puppy dog. He is the world’s most loyal cat.~
“Mister Jones.”
~OGDA says as he sporting his new T shirt, a rainbow themed TEAM OGDA shirt, which is done up as a tour shirt. OGDA’s smiley face logo on the front with TEAM OGDA above that, and on the back, the poster for Death March with the date and place on it. Now available on OCWOnline.com/Shop~
“Sup Best.”
~Says Joe who doesn’t look away from his phone.~
“I’ve got a question. It’s about this Team OGDA.”
“What about it?”
“No ones joined my team yet. I’ve sent letters. I’ve asked a couple of the guys. I even bought them lunch and gave them cookies. Homemade peanut butter cookies. I saw that you asked Mister Mayhu and he hasn’t called or texted. Not even a tweat or a Instagram post. I spent last night on Periscope to see if he would broadcast himself to say yes or no…”
“No one used Periscope Best.”
~Joe adds~
“At least 15 people do. They loved watching Spartacus chasing the laser red dot all over the living room last night.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I’m starting to get worried Mister Joe. That at Death March, I’ll be all alone and there will be no one on my team. I don’t want to let Mister Welsh down.”
~Joe laughs.~
“Best! If you show up with no one on your team, Welsh is going to love you! But, here’s the thing. You won’t be showing up empty handed. I’m pretty sure you will have a fully staffed team. In fact, You know that letter you wrote.”
“To Team…?”
“WHOAH! Shhh. It’s still a secret! But yes, to ”Them”, pretty sure their in.”
“REALLY!”
~A happy OGDA says.~
“90 percent sure.”
“Oh, That’s great Mister Joe. I knew they would make great team mates. Together, we’ll win Death March, or at least one of us will.”
~This news is big to OGDA who was starting to get nervous about this. But then it hits him, he still needs one more.~
“Mister Jones? We still need one more?”
~Joe nods~
“We do. I chatted with Bryan Blaze.”
“Oh? Mister Blaze would be perfect.”
“He can’t. Scheduling conflict. I talked with Malk.”
“Who?”
“An old friend. He’s on the fence. I sent feelers out to Tommy Purr, Hot Stuff Shawn Sanders.”
~OGDA has a puzzled look on his face.~
“Angelo Valour, Eddie, Rayne. Hell I even thought about sliding up in Caleb Hart’s DMs. I was looking high and low, far and near just trying to find someone, that last missing piece Best. Shit, I even thought about making me that last team member.”
“Mister Kelloggs asked me if he could be the last team member.”
“Yeah but, we need a full member, not a half member. But then it hit me. The person who we need to ask has been right here all along. We just have to convince her to say yes.”
“Who?”
~Joe smirks and shows Best/OGDA his phone. OGDA peaks and smiles himself, or at least we think he’s smiling under his mask.~
“What did she say?”
“She has a couple of offers. Everyone seems to want her on their team. I’m doing everything I can think of to sweeten the pot. Since it’s almost Christmas season, I figure some gifts are in order. I’m thinking of a nice spa day. Here. What do you think?”
~OGDA looks at this place Joe has picked out that comes highly recommended. OGDA then looks at Joe.~
“Do girls like that sort of stuff?”
“Hell I love that sort of stuff. Look at the one masseuse they have on staff!”
~Joe swipes a couple of times and lands on this page on his phone, of course, we can’t see it.~
“Isn’t he just gorgeous? So pretty. I bet he has hands like a fucking god.”
~OGDA looks at Joe and back at the phone, and then at Joe.~
“I guess? I’m not sure.”
“I booked a session with him for tomorrow. Can’t wait.”
“Mister Jones.”
“Yeah?”
“How about you give her this.”
~OGDA reaches in his back pocket and pulls out a round smiley face sticker, and it says “Friends of Bester” on it. He hands it to Joe.~
“Whoever is on my team, I don’t want them because I think they’ll help one of us win that shot at the OCW Championship. I want them on my team because I consider them a friend. She is my buddy. Buddies need to stick together.”
“Well, I’ll give it a shot Best.”
“Thank you Mister Jones. Okay Sparky. Come on, I think I know where that red dot is hiding.”
~We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: Five minutes in and let the rumors begin! It sounds like OGDA has secured two members onto his Death March squad!
Hood: Cats don't count...nor do anthropomorphic belts with gay ass names
Smith: I wonder who the fourth person could be? Joe used a feminine pronoun when describing the individual
Hood: So a team and a woman...that sort of narrows it down
Smith: I'm going to go out on a limb and say that OGDA has secure AWE.SOME for his team
Hood: He's not that smart
Smith: And as for the woman...wouldn't it be nice to see MJ Bell back?
Hood: Only if she's sporting the orange hair
Smith: But I guess we'll find out in due time! I can't wait to see who will be standing next to OGDA at Death March. It's time for our first match of the evening...so, let's head down to ringside~
Mfer (0-0) vs. Sarge (0-0)
~The crowd is fairly content. It’s midway through the in ring action this evening which signifies halftime, eye of the hurricane metaphorical bullshit. We see a group of fans in the front row sporting GREEN ALIEN HEADS. Well, aren’t they some weird MFERS. The arena goes wild when these fans are shown on the OCWTron. We spot THE SARGE already in the ring. He’s doing some pushups in an attempt to get the blood pumping, the adrenaline going for his OCW in ring debut. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, currently in the ring…please welcome, making his OCW in ring debut…The Sarge!!!
~The Sarge gets a sizable pop. Fans have been watching his antics backstage and on screen for weeks now. They are eager to see the guy get a shot~
Smith: It never bodes well for the participant without an intro
Hood: Yea you’d think Nanook would have at least given this guy some type of public domain music
Smith: Perhaps they want The Sarge to start from the very bottom. Work his way up.
Hood: Well it doesn’t get any lower than this.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The crowd goes silent. And, I quote “music. Sound. Spaceship. zoom. Pew. Pew.” Rings out. A spaceship lands on the OCWTron screen. Mfer stands out from behind the curtain dressed like an alien (that’s assuming he ISN’T an alien). A loud ‘MFER’ chant breaks out. Eventually the fans stop chanting it and just go with “MOTHER FUCKER” instead which proves they don’t really want to chant the guy’s name as much as they want to chant naughty words. Mfer walks strangely to the ring. He inspects the apron. He touches it with the tips of his fingers before slowly placing one leg up followed by the other. He rolls in under the bottom rope~
Belvedere: From a Small Planet in the Eleventh Realm…standing 1,950,720 Microns and walking around at an unknown weight…ladies and gentlemen I give you The Man From The Eleventh Realm!!!
~Belvedere takes one look at MFER and decides he wants nothing further to do with this being. He promptly exits the ring. The bell sounds. The crowd continues to chant ‘MOTHER FUCKER’~
Smith: Okay so let’s get one thing straight. This is a man pretending to be an alien. He isn’t an ACTUAL being from some obscure realm
Hood: Hey! Who says the eleventh realm is obscure? That might be the Times Square of realms!
Smith: I haven’t heard of it. Nobody I know has heard of it. That makes it obscure.
Hood: No, that makes you ignorant
Smith: Have you heard of it?
Hood: I have now!
Smith: Ugh
~The Sarge extends a friendly hand toward Mfer. Mfer looks at it. He tilts his head in a puzzling manner. The Sarge attempts to explain what the gesture means to this strange, green being~
Smith: The question I have…does Mfer come in peace?
Hood: Sarge seems to think so
Smith: That’s because The Sarge is a good natured person. I’m not sure the same can be said for Mfer
Hood: I’m not sure anything can be said for or of mother fucker. He’s one weird ass dude
~Mfer grabs The Sarge’s hand and looks at it. It’s awkward. He’s holding it like he’s about to propose. The Sarge, though, is polite and accommodating to this man from another ‘realm’~
Smith: Hmm
Hood: If I were The Sarge I’d get out of that ring right now. This can only end two ways and neither of them are in Sarge’s favor
Smith: What two ways are those?
Hood: It can end in a fight or a fuck
Smith: I’m so sorry I asked
~Mfer drops The Sarge’s hand and looks the man in the eye. His green head and black eyes make it hard to really discern what he’s staring at. But we’re pretty sure it’s The Sarge. He extends his index finger and brings it up, toward The Sarge’s face~
Smith: It appears Mfer is an ET fan
Hood: That or ET was based on a true story
Smith: Yea, right
Hood: The truth is out there…somewhere…maybe in that very ring, right now, as we speak, Smith
~Mfer touches the forehead of The Sarge with his index finger. Contrary to popular belief the finger ISN’T glowing. We’ll chalk that up to production. The Sarge‘s eyes turn upward, trying to watch the finger. Mfer brings the finger down to the space in between Sarge’s eyebrows~
Smith: Hmm times two
Hood: That is one weird mother fucker
Smith: Indeed
~Mfer brings the finger down Sarge’s face. It travels the bridge of his nose. The Sarge seems to be growing agitated. Mfer brings the finger to the tip of Sarge’s nose. He falls off and slips into his right nostril. The Sarge flips out and slaps Mfer’s arm away. He throws a clothesline. Mfer ducks and rolls The Sarge up~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…MFER!!!!!
Smith: Well…that…that was something
Hood: Say what you want about mother fucker, but he got the job done tonight
Smith: Tough debut for The Sarge. I have to think Nanook will be displeased
Hood: As he should be. The Sarge just lost to an alien whose only apparent move is a finger to the face.
Smith: It was rough
~Mfer rolls out of the ring and heads back up the ramp with a very awkward walk. The Sarge gets to his feet and looks toward Scruff. Scruff signals that it was a three count. The Sarge appears frustrated~
Smith: A learning experience for The Sarge
Hood: That’s assuming he gets another chance
Smith: True. Not the safest assumption to be sure.
~The Sarge! Comes walking through the curtain with a look of disappointment on his face. He got stunned by a roll up at the hands of MFer.~
“What the hell was that?”
~Nanook yells at him with the Captain by his side, who is slowly shaking his head in disapproval.~
“I…?”
~Sarge is instantly cut off.~
“YOU SUCKED!”
~Nanook growls at him!~
“WE’VE GOT THAT HANDICAPPED MATCH COMING UP SOON AND I’LL BE DAMNED IF I’LL HAVE DEADWEIGHT COST ME WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE! OGDA’S CONTRACT! I WON’T HAVE SOMEONE LIKE YOU COST ME THAT!! GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER!”
~Nanook glares at The Sarge for a second and turns and waddles off. The Captain looks him up and down, shakes his head some more and follows Nanook. The Sarge puts one hand on the wall and tries to stretch his back to much discomfort.~
“Ten guys isn’t going to help you win that match Fatty. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you don’t get my help.”
~Fade out~
"Thirty-five!"
~With an exasperated grunt, Bruce flung the barbell forward, making a loud clank off the wall and again on the floor at it's landing. A slow clap adding to the noise - the source being revealed sooner than later.~
"Bro, do you even lift?"
~It was obvious at that point - and the camera shifted to the right to remove any doubt - the fur-lined boots, heavy, ostenious fur coat and shiny scalp, the only thing shinier was the two championships adorning the man's shoulders; the "International Hollywood" Championship, and the OCW Tag Team Championship. That's right, it was every little kid's role model (said no one ever :P ), The man so effectionately known as "Hollywood Jesus" himself. Jacob Hotstuff.~
Jacob Hotstuff: Seriously bro, killer set.
Bruce Rage: After three long, hard matches, WE have this shiny gold! Gotta keep putting that work in to make sure Mel and captain limpdick don't try and take what belongs to US now!
Jacob Hotstuff: Captain Limpdick Jacob let out a hearty laugh, that's fantastic, we'll have to use that if he ever comes back onto OUR turf...speaking of that, sorry about last week. I was out, I was struggling with the SEVERE MENTAL TRAUMA perpetrated on me by that savage and fake International Champion Griffin Hawkins....this is twenty-eighteen, who really chases people around with a barb wire guitar like a damn lunatic?!
Bruce Rage: I know BRO, you know I'd have put that old man in the coffin too, if it weren't for his surprise sneak attack like, like a sneaky surprise attacker....what's worse, is this Death March show...and we're not even team captains! We, the TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, don't even have our own team!
Jacob Hotstuff: In the words of Hood..."WEAK ASS BOOKING". But, that may not be so bad, you know...it means another month of being the champions, another month of saving them from Mel and the gutter trash of a man she calls a husband and partner...
~Bruce interjected.~
Bruce Rage: But the winner of the Death March gets a world title shot!
Jacob Hotstuff: Easy bro, as luck would have it, last week I was given a note asking for assistance in the Death March. I had planned to show it to you then, but, you know, that fake champion and all.
~Jacob takes a folded up piece of paper from the inside pocket of his beautiful fur coat, opens it up, and reads it aloud.~
"Thirty-six!"
"Thirty-seven!"
"Thirty-eight!"
"Thirty-nine!"
"Forty!"
"Mister Hotstuff, Mister Rage. At the urging from Mister Jones who said I should write a letter to see if anyone would want to join me at Death March and be apart of Team OGDA, I am going to keep this letter short. I am writing to ask you two fine up standing gentlemen if you would consider joining me at Death March on Team OGDA and beat every other team in this tournament, where one of us, will get a shot at that OCW Championship. If I'm putting together a team, why there isn't a better team than the tag team champions! This is a no brainer, it makes sense and it feel goods.
Thanks yous!
High Fives!
Your Buddy,
Orgulloso Guardian Del Arcoiris!
Bruce Rage: The hell was that?!
Jacob Hotstuff: Orgulloso Guardian Del Arcoiris...the current OCW Craze Champion. And he thinks the world of us, I guess...
Bruce Rage: He sounds like he's five.
Jacob Hotstuff: But he wrestles like he's an unstoppable juggernaut of force...you catch my drift?
Bruce Rage: ...I could totally outlift him on his best day!
Jacob Hotstuff: Yes. I'm positive you could...but, let's do this smart. Let the big goon thing he's got some cool new friends, we let him do all the work, then when he virtually hands us that title shot on a silver platter...we drop him quicker than you drop a deuce after eating at Carl's Jr.
~Bruce turns to the camera with a sideways smirk.~
Bruce Rage: Carl's Jr...where if it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face.
~Bruce winks once more at the camera.~
Jacob Hotstuff: Exactly. He'll never see it coming, and we will be one step closer to ruling the OCW even more than we already do.
Bruce Rage: BRO, that's genius, total alpha of you! With your brains, and my braun, and Orgulloso Guardian Del Arcoiris' eagerness to work, this whole Death March is already in the bag!
Jacob Hotstuff: The other teams might as well not even bother showing up...
~Slowly, the camera pans back wide with Jacob and Bruce laughing, while to the side of the room rests former OCW Paradigm Champion. Andrea Hernandez, no doubt she couldn't have just stopped by at this particular moment...right?~
Smith: It appears as though OGDA has acquired BroCode for his Death March squad!
Hood: That...is unexpected
Smith: I'll say! I'm sure those are the two Jones was referencing earlier in the evening. Now...the question remains...who is going to be the fourth member?
Hood: I don't know, but OGDA is going to get worked by Hotstuff. He wants people on his team who are his friends. Hotstuff sees OGDA as means to an end. That end produces gold for one man and one man only - Jacob Hotstuff
Smith: Yep, he's one of the most arrogant individuals in OCW history. Hopefully OGDA is made aware of this and is prepared for whatever Hotstuff can throw his way.
Hood: Like recruiting Andrea Hernandez?
Smith: We don't know for sure that's why she was there...but it's probably not a coincidence.
Hood: She, too, is starting to get it. Last week we saw a different Andrea. If she signs up to compete on Team OGDA with BroCode...that just confirms to me that Andrea is here to compete and not 'make friends'
Smith: It does seem that she's heading down a different path. That loss to Mack changed her
Hood: No shit. That illegal fist knocked some sense into her stupid brain
Smith: Rude!
~Greg sits calmly in his chair inside Welsh's office, quietly filing his nails. The door is suddenly kicked open, and Mack O'Connor storms in.~
Mack: Listen here, Welsh, we need to have a...
~Mack glances around the office, noticing Welsh and most of his goons are no where to be found. His eyes fall on Greg, who quietly looks back at him as if he's been mildly inconvenienced.~
Greg: Marcus isn't here. May I help you with something?
Mack: Not really. I need to talk to the man himself. Now.
~Greg sets the nail file down and calmly crosses his legs~
Greg: He'll be back shortly. You're more than welcome to wait for him here.
Mack: Yeah, fine, I'll do that.
~Mack stands in front of the desk, shifting back and forth, clearly irritated. Greg gestures towards an empty seat~
Greg: Feel free to take a seat.
Mack: I'll stand, thank you.
Greg: Suit yourself.
~Greg goes back to filing his nails, and Mack just stands there staring at the empty desk. After a few moments, Mack stretches his hands, opening and clinching his fists, and cracks his knuckles. Greg notices~
Greg: Having problems with your hands?
Mack: Excuse me?
Greg: You appear to be in a stage of discomfort.
Mack: Oh... No, I'm good. After a while in this business, they start getting sore. Especially when you use them a lot.
Greg: And you do use them a lot, yes? Your hands?
Mack: More like my fists... But yes. You can say that.
Greg: You know...
~Greg sets the nail file down once again~
Greg: There are ways to relieve the strain in your hands.
~Mack raises an eyebrow~
Mack: Oh? Hows that?
~We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: Mack spending some time with Greg
Hood: Yea, maybe a little too much time, if you know what I mean
Smith: I do but I won't go down that road with you, Hood. Not tonight.
Hood: Pussy
Smith: Well folks, I don't know where the GM is at the moment but I do know that we have footage of a meeting he held earlier today. Last week Joe Jones was spotted exiting the female locker room. This, evidently did not sit well with many of the female employees. So, Welsh decided to address the situation earlier today
~We cut to footage from earlier in the day. Marcus Welsh is giving a speech in front of the female members of the OCW roster. This includes every female that is active in OCW – yes, even Who’Re. They are voicing their concerns from an incident which took place one week earlier~
Marcus Welsh: Yes, yes, I know you’re all upset over Joe Jones invading the women’s locker room. I didn’t like it either. I share all of your concerns.
Who’Re: So what are you going to do about it? We demand respect! Equality! We need a safe working environment!
~All the women in attendance agree with Who’Re’s statement~
Marcus Welsh: Absolutely, I’m on board with this narrative 100%. Part of the culture I’ve been changing around here has to do with the way women have been viewed and treated. Melinda Rhodes should be treated in the very same manner Matt Meyhu is treated. Who’Re, you should be given the exact same respect that Smith or Hood are provided. There should be no hierarchy around here based on gender. That’s why I’ve decided to make a hire that will change everything.
~Who’Re sits down. The women all look around, wondering what this change could be~
Marcus Welsh: I’ve hired a person to oversee security strictly for the female employees. To make sure you have a safe working environment and aren’t bothered by male chauvinism. He has a great reputation, an impressive resume, and appears to be a really good guy.
~The women nod along, thinking this sounds like a positive step in the right direction. It’s certainly not a complete fix, but it’s something~
Marcus Welsh: So, without further ado. It is with great pleasure that I present to you the head of female talent relations…Sugar Valentine!
~Welsh claps furiously as Sugar Valentine gets up and walks on stage. The women don’t seem happy. Their arms fold. They scowl. Sugar gives Welsh a simultaneous handshake and hug. He grabs the mic~
Sugar Valentine: Yo, it’s great to be here, ladies. I want you all to know that I’ve dedicated my entire life to providing safe work environments for women all around the world. I make sure they are safe. I make sure they get paid. I make sure they are taken care of. You get me?
~No response~
Sugar Valentine: That’s alright. It’s day one. I didn’t expect ya’ll to take to this right away. But ya’ll warm up, they always do. Anyway, I gotta get to work. That female locker room ain’t gonna watch itself, ya know? Ya’ll sit tight, aight? Sugar gone take care of each and every one of ya’ll, I promise.
~Sugar pats Welsh on the arm and exits the stage, heading out of the room. He’s moving quickly, perhaps afraid that if he lingers he could lose the position. Welsh regains the mic. Who’Re jumps up~
Who’Re: Are you sure this guy is right for the job?
Marcus Welsh: Who’Re, relax. He’s going to take great care of all the women employed by OCW. Rest assured. Now, we’ve got a show starting up in a few hours so let’s get out of here and place our focus where it belongs!
~Welsh steps off stage leaving a concerned crowd of females. They murmur to one another as we cut back to Hood and Smith~
Smith: Well that...that was interesting
Hood: Looks like a stand up guy if you ask me
Smith: I don't see this ending well
Hood: That's because you have shitty vision
Smith: I do not! Anyway, folks it's time for our second match of the evening as Eon Night is set to make his OCW debut! Let's head down to ringside!
|
|
Eon Night (0-0) vs. Jack Puffer (0-2)
~The crowd is ready for some action! It’s Monday Night and they are getting kind of tired of football. At least until the playoffs start. So here we are at the OCW Arena where THE BIG BOYS PLAY, RIGHT?! Right. Belvedere clears his throat and the crowd goes wild. It’s time for Monday Night Massacre’s in-ring action to kick off~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…he is OCW’s resident detective…please welcome, Jack Puffer!
~Puffer throws his arm in the air. He looks a big peckish. Perhaps Bifford’s constant mauling of the catering room is taking its toll. The fans don’t give much of a response so Puffer looks out into the crowd attempting to detect some fans~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~Eon appears at the entrance as the sounds from " Running Blind" fill the arena. He shakes his head and paces slowly towards the ring. He enters the ring and leans on the ropes~
Belvedere: From Parts Unknown, standing 6’2 and weighing in at 242lbs…Eon Night!!!
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: Eon Night making his debut this evening.
Hood: And?
Smith: And there’s not much else on this guy. He was hired last week. I’m told OCW management is very excited over his potential
Hood: Huh. Well let’s see if this guy is a future PerZag or a future Emon Biney
Smith: Don’t forget Truda
Hood: Ah, Truda
~Jack Puffer walks up to Eon Night, eager to make his acquaintance. Eon just sort of looks at Puffer, somewhat nonplussed. Like, what the fuck is this guy doing? Puffer extends his hand saying, “Detective Jack Puffer at your service! Pleasure to meet you, Neo.” The crowd goes ‘oooohhh’. Eon Night looks around. He does not look pleased. In fact, he looks the opposite of pleased. Offended might be the best word to describe the look on this newcomer’s face~
Smith: Ugh, Jack, no
Hood: Did he call him NEO?
Smith: He did
Hood: Matrix marathon on this weekend or something?
Smith: I wouldn’t know. I refused to watch the last two
Hood: Snobby bitch
~Eon finally accepts Puffer’s hand. He yanks the good detective forward and drills him in the face with an elbow smash!!! Puffer stumbles into a corner, holding his face. Night rushes forward and drills Puffer with a clothesline. He backs up and lunges forward again with a forearm smash, this time!! Puffer is done in. The man is out. If it weren’t for the ropes holding up his draped arms he’d be on the mat. The crowd seems impressed by Eon’s aggressiveness~
Smith: Again, as I stated…we don’t know much about this Eon Night character. But so far he looks impressive.
Hood: Yea…sometimes these future stars come out of nowhere, Smith. This could be another one of those situations
Smith: I hope so. He’s got an interesting look and a unique name
Hood: Just don’t call him Neo
~There doesn’t appear to be an ounce of energy left in the good detective. His head is hanging toward the ground. The guy looks like he has been crucified to the corner. Well, aside from his feet. They aren’t folded or anything. Eon throws his leg up and delivers a vicious toe kick right into Jack’s face!!! The impact provides enough momentum for Puffer’s arms to unhook themselves from the rope as he falls forward, into Eon’s arms. Eon seamlessly transitions Puffer’s dead weight into an Evenflow DDT!!! The crowd pops for the move! Night flips Puffer over and makes the cover. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The Bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….EON NIGHT!!!!!
Smith: Dominating performance by Eon Night
Hood: I love the Evenflow DDT! Glad it’s back
Smith: Yep and Eon delivers it with flawless technique
Hood: And, who knows, maybe that head trauma will wake Puffer up and make him a semi-competent detective.
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: Yea because, I mean, where’s the entertainment value in a quality gumshoe
Smith: Certainly not around here
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~Welsh walks down the hallway leading to his office, stressed from the night's happenings. As he approaches the office door, he hears voices...~
Oh God... This feels so good...
I told you I could help... Just relax, I'll take care of everything...
Mmm... Yeah, right there...
~Welsh's eyes go wide with rage. He storms into the office~
Welsh: YOU SON OF A...
~Welsh pauses as he glances down at Greg and Mack: Greg sits behind the desk, Mack sits in front of it, and Greg is currently massaging Mack's hand in the middle.~
Welsh: What...
~Welsh looks at Mack. Mack looks at Welsh. Welsh looks at Mack's hand. Greg looks at Welsh. Greg looks at Mack's hand. Mack looks at Mack's hand. Mack looks at Greg. Greg looks at Welsh. Welsh looks at Greg. Mack looks at Welsh. Welsh looks at Mack.~
Mack: I think I'm gonna go...
~Mack slowly pulls his hand away from Greg, stands up, and walks out of the office. Welsh looks at Greg. Greg leans back in the office chair. He shrugs~
Smith: Welsh seemed very concerned
Hood: He's the dominant male hippo, Smith. He can't let other male hippos into his territory
Smith: Interesting analogy
Hood: I watched a lot of Animal Planet last night
~We cut outside to a sunlit park . It's a nice, crisp, Fall afternoon. The leaves are changing colors and falling gracefully to the ground. People are walking dogs, or by themselves, or as we focus on them, in couples. One particular couple are holding hands as they walk. They are a young man and lady. We can over hear the man talking~
Man: So I was thinking. We've been going steady for a very long time.
Woman: A year and a half isn't that long.(uh-oh)
Man: Well, it's pretty long, and I feel that we've gotten pretty close over these eighteen months.
Woman: Have we though? I feel like we've been drifting apart for a while now. (Oh no!)
Man:(obviously not paying attention) I've been thinking long and hard about something, and I've come to a conclusion.
Woman: Are you sure? You could think about it more... (This poor fool.)
Man: So I talked to your dad the other day and got his blessing. Jessica.....
~The man stops and kneels in front of the now nervous looking woman. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a small box. He opens it and reveals a modest but very nice looking ring.~
Man: Will you do me the honor of being my tag team partner for life?
~The woman looks panicked. She wasn't expecting this! Shit, she was going to break up with him later. She needs a distraction! While she stammers, a figure emerges from the trees, running at a fast pace. It's the man OGDA Irish Whipped at Serial Thrillers! He runs between the couple and his knee catches the young man in the face! The man drops to the dirt out cold as the woman yells out to our running man.~
Woman: THANK YOU VIOLENT STRANGER!!
~The man runs off into some foliage to the tune of "I Ran" by Flock of Seagulls. We cut back to the OCW Arena~
Smith: And he's still going
Hood: Shit. Guy is out there doing his best Forrest Gump impression
Smith: Only I think Gump took a nap here and there
Hood: I believe this running man might become a legend by the time his trip ends...if it ever does
Smith: I'm afraid of the very same thing
~We cut back into the locker room of Mario Maurako. Mario is sitting down on a folding chair and is once again talking on his cell phone.~
Mario Maurako: No, I get it John. You guys are all busy with your kids. Yeah, I’ve heard it before from Chris.
John Sektor: Well have you tried Cyanide, or Mike Best, or even Max Kael?
Mario Maurako: Cyanide told me he was dead. Mike was noncommittal, and Max & Jatt haven’t returned my phone calls. It’s fine though. I’ll figure something out. I always do.
John Sektor: What about Ryan Faze?
Mario Maurako: Same as you and Chris. I don’t understand why you all can't be as old as me and have had your kids as young as I did.
~The door to the locker room opens up and in walks a mountain of a man with long brown hair and a goatee. Mario’s eyes dart over to the door and stare at the figure walking into the room. It takes Mario a second but then he recognizes the man.~
Mario Maurako: Sektor, I’ve got to let you go.
~Mario hangs up the phone and stands up to greet the behemoth and does so with a firm handshake.~
Bear: Hello Mario, I hear you are looking for partner?
Mario Maurako: Bear! Long time no see comrade. Did Cyanide send you?
Bear: Cyanide told me to tell you he dead, and I be your partner.
Mario Maurako: He sent you, to come be my partner?
Bear: Yeah, bekause he dead.
Mario Maurako: Bear, do you even know how to wrestle?
Bear: Sure, how hard kould it be?
Mario Maurako: Let me stop you right there. You can go back to Cyanide, dig him up, and tell him that I personally told you no. You see Bear, I’m trying to put together a team of a certain quality. Thank you for coming out here, but I’m just simply not going to allow just anyone to be on my team.
Bear: Vell okay, Mister Maurako but dead people kan’t hear.
Mario Maurako: They sure can’t… they also can’t send people here to come join my team. Have a safe trip Bear!
~Mario escorts Bear to the door and sees him out. As Bear exits Andrea Hernandez is walking by and Mario calls her over.~
Mario Maurako: Hey Andrea, got a second to talk?
~Andrea stops walking and seems to begrudgingly approach Mario at his locker room door.~
Mario Maurako: Listen Andrea, I’ve been seeing you around and you’ve been talking about how you don’t have any Death March plans. I wanted to see if you were interested in joining my team.
~Mario smiles confidently figuring he is about to confirm his second teammate. But he is completely oblivious to the disdain in Andrea’s facial expression.~
Andrea Hernandez: I don’t feel like you genuinely want me on your team. If you did, you would have asked me right from the jump. Everyone knows that you’re having a hard time filling your team. You’ve asked what, ten people? I’m nobody's “Plan K”.
~Before Mario can even take in and react to Andrea’s response she simply turns and continues down the hall as Mario stands there in shock. Mario then turns and re-enters his locker room door slamming it behind him.~
Smith: Things are not going well for the two-time Hall of Famer
Hood: A guy named Bear is the only person that wants to be on his team.
Smith: Wrong! He's got Alice!
Hood: Ugh, yea, I forgot. So the only two people that want to be on his team MIGHT be mentally challenged
Smith: They are not! One is quirky and the other is from another country!
Hood: Don't feed me false facts, Smith
Smith: I'm not! Mario's frustrations are clearly mounting. Andrea turned him down. All his friends from the past have turned him down...the hour is going to grow late before we know it and Mario will need to have a team ready to compete against King Infinity
Hood: Dude's fucked. The story of his life in OCW. He just can't ever get the stars to align. I imagine he'll give way and form a team of Alice, Mfer, and Uber Man. At least he'll be the smartest guy on the team
Smith: Let's hope he can field better than that because King Infinity will no doubt have a stacked roster
~The scene opens with Ed Houston standing backstage with Who’re, his OCW Lightweight Championship draped over his shoulder~
Who’re: “I’m backstage with Ed Houston and the world wants to know Ed, who is going to make up the rest of Team Houston?
Houston: “Good question Who’re, I’m not going to reveal who I’ve tapped to make up my team, tonight my mind is all on Bob Grenier.
Who’re: “Oh come on, Ed. It would be quite the scoop. I’d love to break it.”
Houston: “Woah, woah woah. None of that here.”
Who’re: “What do you mean?”
Houston: “You uh, don’t need to do anything special to break the scoop. There won’t be any scoop here tonight. But I will say this. OCW is full of tons of great wrestlers. There are a number that I could have tapped to be on my team. But Curt Canon said last week that our match at Death March would be war. I took that to heart when I constructed my team. I need to win this match, to put this silly notion that I’m Curt Canon 2.0 to rest so I’ve decided to surround myself with people that Curt would never have run into, that he would never have the chance to scout. I wanted people on my team that I would trust to have my back in this war. I’ve brought in three guys that I have history with. Three guys that when I was first getting started in this business, could’ve kicked me to the curb. They didn’t. They helped me grind out wins, they helped me become a better wrestler and at Death March they will be by my side in this final battle of my war against Curt Canon. Next week I’ll reveal the three wrestlers that will change the course of OCW history forever.”
~Houston punctuates the last line and immediately after heads off screen.~
Who’re: “You heard it here first, next week the participants of Team Houston will be named.”
~The scene cuts away from the back.~
Smith: Huge news, Hood! Next week we're going to find out who all is on Team Houston!
Hood: Yea I've heard a lot of names thrown around and I've got to say...if they prove to be true his team is going to be stout
Smith: Yep. Right now Canon and Houston are looking at empty teams, at least in terms of what's been announced. Houston just revealed he's got his team secured. Canon, tonight, is apparently going to attempt to recruit a Hall of Famer in The Incredible One. That match could prove to be the match of the night
Hood: Sounds like you could be looking at 8 wrestlers with a legit shot to go all the way and win Death March
Smith: Indeed.
Hood: I also noticed Ed said the word scoop alot. Made me want some ice cream
Smith: Maybe you can go locate a blog about ice cream after work but right now we've got a job to do! It's time for our third match this evening as Hellraven faces Paralysis in a match both need to win
|
|
Hellraven (4-4) vs. Paralysis (1-1)
~The crowd is ready for their next match. They’ve seen three…count em THREE job matches. It’s cool to see all this newly signed talent but, I mean, c’mon! How about some competition, guys! AT least, that’s what I, the narrator, assume they are thinking. They could just be standing around enjoying a wrestling event. Belvedere clears his throat and the crowd goes wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall!
~“Decayer” by Pray for Sound hits. The crowd stands. They give a decent reaction to Paralysis. He emerges from behind the curtain and marches down to the ring, ignoring the fans with more than a hint of arrogance. He reaches the ring, rolls in and pops back to his feet~
Belvedere: From Another Dimension…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 223lbs…Paralysis!
Smith: And here comes Paralysis! The man has a lot of confidence. He suffered a tough set back against Vossler last week but looks to bounce back against Hellraven this week.
Hood: Same with Hellraven, although her match was in a much higher position.
Smith: Yep. The kid is a little down on herself after last week. Here’s hoping she can rebound and fight her way back into another title opportunity
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The sounds of a thunderstorm echo across the arena speakers as purplish-blue spotlights come to life near the entrance ramp. At their centre, head down, arms folded, is a tall and slender figure, their long hair falling forward onto their face and partially obscuring it.~
~The figure remains in this position until a moment later, when the rainstorm transitions into the iconic opening guitar lead to Slayer's 'Raining Blood'. At the same time as this transition occurs, the blue spotlights go out, leaving the house lights to illuminate what is now clearly seen to be a young woman. As the riff begins, she uncrosses her arms, holding them out to each side in a double show of the metal horns as she indulges in a spot of headbanging~
~Then, as the legendary lead gives way to mid-tempo riffing, the girl makes her way down the ramp, keeping her focus on the ring but not neglecting the occasional outstretched hand in her path. Once at ringside, she scales the steel steps and lets herself in through the middle rope. From there, she makes her way across the mat to the furthest turnbuckle and slumps down into a seated position, her arms resting on her knees~
Belvedere: From Tokyo, Japan…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 130lbs…Hellraven!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds. Hellraven rises up with her focus directly on Paralysis~
Smith: And here we go! Who will get the rebound tonight? Hellraven or Paralysis?
Hood: If Hellraven can stay focused. If she can get over all this self-loathing, melancholic bullshit then she should get the win.
Smith: Yep, that seems to be, in many ways, her Achilles heel. Paralysis, on the other hand, just picks up and continues moving forward. There’s a lot of respect for a person who can do that.
~Hellraven seems more hesitant to engage than we’re used to. She sizes Paralysis up, looking before she leaps, so to speak. Paralysis, meanwhile, is his usual, business like self. He approaches Hellraven, eager to lock up. He lunges forward. Hellraven ducks and bounces around, seemingly tentative. Paralysis turns around and continues to stalk after her~
Smith: We’re seeing a slightly different Hellraven tonight
Hood: SLIGHTLY?!
Smith: Well I’m just saying
Hood: It’s like she suddenly switched from Red Bull to Tylenol PMs
Smith: Okay now that’s just straight hyperbole
Hood: Don’t call me a cyber bully! I’m no fag
~Hellraven becomes cornered, she’s running out of proverbial real estate. Paralysis goes after Raven for another lock up. She manages to slip through the ropes, onto the apron. Paralysis grabs her by the hair. She throws a high kick into his head! Paralysis releases his grip and staggers back. Hellraven leaps up and springboards off the top rope with a crossbody, taking Paralysis down! She tries for a quick pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Not the worst idea. I’ve seen matches end quicker
Hood: Yea, three of them already tonight
Smith: Indeed
~Hellraven gets back to her feet. She seems to have abandoned her earlier caution. The feral fire has returned to those young, impetuous eyes. She goes for Paralysis, grabbing him by the hair and aggressively yanking him to his feet. She delivers a few forearm shots to the jaw. Paralysis staggers against the ropes. Raven shoots him off….but Paralysis reverses. Raven sprints toward the ropes with Paralysis running right behind her. She hits the ropes and is met with a HUGE boot from Paralysis!! Raven goes over the top rope and tumbles harshly to the outside. The leg of Paralysis is hung out over the top rope so he simply grabs the top rope, brings the other leg over and stands on the apron~
Smith: Hellraven got fired up and ran right into a boot from Paralysis
Hood: It takes time to evolve, Smith. Just ask the apes
Smith: I don’t talk to apes
Hood: Why? Because they won’t talk to you?
Smith: I refuse to comment further
~Paralysis hops to the floor. Raven is trying to get back to her feet. Paralysis helps her up and then drives a shoulder into Hellraven’s gut, slamming her up against the barricade! He stands upright. Raven tries to double over but Paralysis straightens her up and delivers a wicked knife edged chop!!! He follows that up with a stiff clothesline that sends Hellraven over the barricade and into the crowd! The fans in the front row scatter…the fans right behind them go wild. They love LIMITLESS ACTION~
Smith: Paralysis was almost handed the advantage by an impetuous, almost an injudicious Hellraven and he looks unwilling to hand it back over.
Hood: Uh, sure
~Paralysis continues to move ahead, unrelenting. He reaches over, snaring Raven by the hair and lifting the much smaller individual to her feet. The barricade rests between them. He hooks Hellraven for a suplex. Hellraven manages to block it! She bites his ear!! Paralysis loses his grip and starts to squirm. Hellraven grabs him by the back of the head, drops to her ass and slams his jaw into the top of the barricade!! Paralysis falls backwards, onto his ass and then his back! The crowd goes wild!! Hellraven winces from the landing but, hey, she’s young, she’ll be okay. She leans up against the barricade, while seated. Someone offers her a few Sourpatch kids. She gladly accepts them. The crowd goes wild once more~
Smith: Great spunk shown by Hellraven! She’s full of fire!
Hood: SPUNK? For the love, man!
Smith: You know what I mean
Hood: What color Sourpatch did she choose? She seems like a green lover
Smith: I believe the color was blue
Hood: They have blue ones?!
Smith: Apparently so
~Hellraven gets back to her feet. She stands near the barricade and looks over at Paralysis, who is slowly regaining his footing. Hellraven jumps up, balances atop the barricade and leaps off at a standing Paralysis. Paralysis catches her!! He’s got her in powerbomb position! Hellraven throws a few punches into the head of Paralysis. Paralysis backs against the apron. Raven reaches up and grabs the ropes…she pulls her body off of Paralysis and flips over the top rope, into the ring, hitting her feet. She takes off for the ropes. Paralysis turns around and slides into the ring~
Smith: Hellraven averting certain disaster!
Hood: Damn she’s quick
Smith: And resourceful! You can see the instincts…they are prevalent
~Paralysis gets into the ring and gets to his feet. The minute he does, he’s drilled in the head with a Yakuza Kick!!! He stumbles into a corner, near unconscious. Raven charges toward another set of ropes, she bounces off and sprints at Paralysis, who is slouched in the corner, and hits him with Nevermore!!!! Paralysis falls face first onto the mat. Raven rolls him over and goes for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….HELLRAVEN!!!!!
Smith: HUGE win for Hellraven! Way to go!
Hood: Man she sure knows how to kick a person’s head off
Smith: Not literally, folks. Rest assured knowing that Paralysis is not decapitated
Hood: What are our fans, blind?
Smith: I’m just clarifying!
~We cut to Marcus Welsh's office. Greg is in a chair, on his phone while Welsh is on his computer~
Welsh: How does Hawaii sound for a vacation?
Greg: That sounds wonderful!
~Before they can continue this conversation, the door to the office burst open! Greg yelps in surprise and Welsh looks up from his computer, annoyed. Standing in the doorway is Mike Zybala looking panicked~
Welsh: What the fuck are you doing? Don't you knock? Where's Knux?
Zybala: Bathroom break probably. But who cares Marcus. We got problems. Big problems!
Welsh: Bathroom break? I told that man to go before and after the show, never during! I knew that extra cup of coffee could be troublesome.
Greg: Extra black
~Welsh raises an eyebrow. Greg wiggles in his chair with a sly smile slicing across his face. Zybala clears his throat, loudly.~
Welsh: Oh, you’re still here. The hell do you want? What’s this big problem? Did your favorite Saturday Morning Cartoon get cancelled?
~Zybala looks slightly annoy at this comment.~
Zybala: That happened like 23 years ago. No, this actually affects the company and it's your fault.
Welsh: What the hell do you mean “my fault?” What is it?
Zybala: Well, you know that Outsider I never liked that came begging for money?
Welsh: The one that said I was a better staff member. I remember the intelligent person.
Zybala: That “intelligent person” took the ten bucks you gave him for tasing me and bought a lotto scratcher and won!
Welsh: Good for him. How does that affect me or OCW?
Zybala: He's using the money to lawyer up and sue us!
Welsh: “Us”? What do you mean, “us”? You’re the one who should be suing! You’re the guy that got him involved in the pro wrestling business. You need to handle this situation and leave me out of it. I’ve got bigger things to worry about like making sure my teams eviscerate your teams at Death March.
Zybala: By “us” I mean the company. He's mad at me because he never got an Outsiders match. But the main reason he's suing is for you having security beat him down after he zapped me. He's saying he has proof that you gave him permission to be in the ring that night, and that his beat down was unwarranted and illegal.
~Welsh kneads his tense forehead via the knuckle belonging to his thumb. Greg leaps from his chair and rushes over to give Welsh a massage. Welsh looks up at Greg and nods. He turns his focus back to Zybala~
Welsh: Look, we’ve got all this outside talent coming in for Death March. We can’t afford some douchebag dragging us down into a scandal. Find out what he wants and tell Leo the High School Intern.
Zybala: This is why I said not to bother with him. He was a Dean hire. I had bad vibes about the dude from day one. I'll handle it. This is beyond Leo. Speaking of which, he is no longer an intern. He's on the payroll.
~Welsh looks like he is about to explode as he nearly jumps from Greg's magic hands. Zybala holds his hands up.~
Zybala: Relax. Legally, we had to hire him because of some weird Florida intern law. He just never figured it out. I did however, and figured to hire him before another lawsuit happens. Don't worry though. As Dean used to love, the kid is working for the proverbial peanuts.
~Zybala then turns to leave the office. Welsh picks up his phone and makes a call.~
Welsh: Yes, I’d like to see statements for Leo...I don’t know his last name. He used to be an intern. Anyway, I want to see statements for his payroll checks dating back the past few weeks. Get these to me immediately!
~Welsh hangs up and looks at Welsh~
Welsh: See what I’m talking about? Lawsuits from some guy whose name might as well be loser. A lifte time intern put on payroll. This man is a menace! He cannot triumph at Death March. He cannot!
~Welsh slams his fist into the top of his desk. It knocks over a little figurine of Matt Meyhu. He doesn’t move to pick it up. We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: Zybala continues to drive Welsh crazy. It will be wild if one of Zybala's guys wins at Death March
Hood: That's an understatement. I've said it before and I'll say it again. If one of Zybala's guys OR girls wins...this plae is doomed
Smith: I certainly hope that's not the case and I think you're severely underselling Zybala. But, the truth will be revealed in time.
~We rejoin Mario Maurako in his locker room. Mario is looking very annoyed as his angrily packs his stuff into his bag. Not being booked tonight it looks like he has had enough and is going to head home. Mario tosses the final item into his bag and quickly zips the bag shut and tosses the strap over his shoulder and heads for the door. Maurako quickly slings the door open and makes his way into the hallway heading towards the parking lot when he runs smack dab into one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Bruce Rage. The impact makes Mario stumble backwards and drop his is bag. We take stock of Bruce's attire. The man is dressed extremely well this evening~
Bruce Rage: Woops... watch where you're going Jerry....
Mario Maurako: What?
Bruce Rage: …as in Geriatric BITCH!
Mario Maurako: That’s really cute. Almost as cute as MY Tag Team title you’ve got right there.
Bruce Rage: Oh I don't see your name on it, baldy. In fact, look at this name right here!
~He raises the belt off of his ripped shoulder, putting it right in Mario's face.~
Bruce Rage: WHAT'S IT SAY!!! Come on.... say my name.
~Mario pushes the belt back from his face and Rage returns it to his shoulder.~
Mario Maurako: Quite frankly son, I don’t know your name. I’m not concerned with your name. I’m not even concerned with removing my title from your shoulder. But you could do yourself a favor and learn a little respect.
~Suddenly Bruce shoves him hard enough to send Mario back to the wall. It's at that moment a gaggle of security shows up to keep the two separated.~
Bruce Rage: RESPECT?! Show me some you Jurassic turd and I just might do the same! I'M A MOTHERFUCKING CHAMPION! THAT MEANS YOU PAY ME RESPECT!!! NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND!!!
~Bruce is clearly livid, his face is red. Even through his shirt, you can make out the ripples and veins of his muscles as every single one of them tenses, straining the fabric to its absolute limits.~
Mario Maurako: That’s the problem with you kids these days. You don’t have any respect for yourself, how could you possibly have respect for the people who made it possible for you to be here or this business itself? While you were still in grade school I was selling out buildings all over the World. Fighting guys like SilverFreak in ladder matches. Or guys like El Linchador, TGO, D Double D... you know, the men who made ALL of this possible for a no good punk like YOU! So you don’t want to respect any of this? Next week maybe I just beat some respect into you.
~Bruce leans in as Security takes measures to keep the two apart.~
Bruce Rage: I'm a genetic freak of nature the likes of which you ain't EVER seen! Look at this body, look at this face! I'm better looking, my body is in its prime, and I even SMELL better than you! You smell like Ben Gay and powder, bitch! You ain't got the Heart to survive me! Do the Math, "boy" and realize that I'm 300 pounds of the Apocalypse about to come raining down on your balding pinhead!
Mario Maurako: I used to look like that too son, but I don’t need to look like that anymore to beat you.
Bruce Rave: You. can't. beat. ME! I've made two veterans in the industry my bitch in two weeks. Rebel Rhodes? BAM, bitch went down like a sack of potatoes and needed to cheat to beat me! Her Husband, James Spade? I ripped him apart in our first encounter! What makes you any different? You got a Hall of Fame ring? That just means you're a legend HERE and nowhere else!
Mario Maurako: At least I’m a legend here! You aren’t shit here! I could babble about all my accomplishments everywhere else but nobody cares. Here I’m a two-time Hall of Famer there is nobody else on this roster that can make that claim and only one other man in this universe.
Bruce Rage: Do you want to know how scary I am? I made Vincent Langston run away from the fight. I finally realized why he left, he knew he couldn't match the power of Bruce Rage and Jacob Hotstuff, so he walked away like the Pussy Soldier boy he is! That's why me and Jacob are the Tag Champions! Our Greatness sent a self-proclaimed legend and former military man running with his tail between his legs.
~Bruce snickers and sneers, as he adjusts the tag title belt on his shoulder.~
Mario Maurako: That’s wonderful… I’m one of of four guys who have held that title on your shoulder more than once, and I’ve never lost it. That’s not me bragging, that is me simply stating the facts to you.
Bruce Rage: Well here is a fact for you. A trained baby killer knew he was no match for the Bro Code. But since I have nothing else better to do I'll see you next week and show you why you're no match for the largest arms in the world..... BITCH!
~Bruce smiles as he backs away. Mario doesn’t take his eyes off of Bruce as the security team parts like the red sea. Mario picks up his bag and slowly starts walking towards the parking lot again. Mario walks up to his Red 2018 Maserati GranTurismo. Mario pulls out his cell phone, visibly frustrated. He scrolls through his index of contacts. We see several familiar names. The crowd cheers after the visual of each name. A figure walks up to Mario Maurako. Immediately, Mario’s body language changes when he sees who has approached him: King Infinity, Aidan Collins. Mario quickly puts the phone away and tenses up. He clearly expects this to escalate immediately.~
Mario Maurako: You come here to fight, Aidan? Because I have no problem kicking your ass!
~The crowd pops. Aidan does not seem intimidated by Mario’s threat. He smirks callously.~
Aidan Collins: Listen big guy, I didn’t come here to fight you…I also apologize for interrupting your impending call with a “hot co-ed” that you were paying $0.69 cents a minute to speak to. I’m sure you can call her later to tell her what you’d do to her.
Mario Maurako: Real funny… Keep making jokes and see what happens.
Aidan Collins: Oh, I already know what’s going to happen…Time to meet my first partner for Death March, brother!
~Aidan looks to the camera with a smug look, and then Mario is hit right out of the frame by a hulking figure!~
Aidan Collins: That had to hurt, ladies and gentlemen!
~The camera pans over to reveal the man who just hit Mario: The Big Bifford! Aidan seems very pleased with himself for setting up this attack.~
Aidan Collins: You know, Mario, you really brought this on yourself. Not only do you attack me at Serial Thrillers, but you also just keep on running your goddamn mouth…You made me do this! Pick his chump ass up, Biff!
~The Bifford complies, picking up Mario, who is in very bad shape after the blindside attack. They begin to walk through the parking lot.~
Aidan Collins: Can you believe this guy, Big Bifford? He acts like he’s OCW Champion or something!
Bifford: I’m the OCW Champion!
Aidan Collins: Exactly!
~Aidan looks back to the camera, as to say “catch a load of this guy”. The pair continue to walk through the parking lot, heading for a specific location~
Aidan Collins: So, Biff, how do you feel about being my partner at Death March?
Bifford: Don’t you mean Bath March?
~Aidan takes a breath through his nose, wincing.~
Aidan Collins: I wish I did. I wish I did.
~Just then, Mario shows some life and slips off Big Bifford’s shoulder! He hits the big man with a few quick right hands, driving Bifford backwards! Bifford stumbles backwards, taking the shots, but failing to fall off his feet. Mario slips forward and gets in position, trying to set up Bifford for the Simply Marvelous… but is blindsided as Aidan bicycle kicks him to the side of the head!~
Aidan Collins: Sometimes, you just have to Billy Blanks a bitch!
~The Big Bifford comes to his senses after being rocked by the punches. He shakes the stars out from his vision and pulls Mario up from the ground. Aidan pulls a pair of car keys out his pocket, walking up to a black convertible. He opens up the trunk and Bifford throws Mario inside as Aidan locks the Marvelous one inside!
Aidan Collins: Missing an event in the trunk of the car isn’t a new thing for Mario, from what I hear. I know that a month might seem like a long time, but I left some muscle milk and a bag of dog treats in there, so he should be fine.
Bifford: You are a good man, Aidan. Maybe you’ll work your way up to a title shot someday!
Aidan Collins: Yeah, maybe… Say, how do you feel about putting part two of our plan into action?
Bifford: Sounds good. You said I do this and you’ll set up a meeting with Stan Lee, right?
Aidan Collins: Of course! You help me out and then you can meet with Stan Lee about your own comic book!
~Bifford and Aidan walk back towards the arena, ready to cause more trouble.~
Hood: Big Bifford and Aidan Collins in cahoots? I would have never guessed in a million years…
Smith: It looks like Aidan just bought himself an insurance policy for Death March.
Hood: Yeah, a 400 pound one in that!
Smith: Welsh may be annoyed by Bifford but the fact that an OCW Hall of Famer is on Team Collins has to make him smile
Hood: Yep and we all know what happens when Mario goes into a trunk. He doesn't come out for at least a year
Smith: This mirrors 2014 when The Family was set to do battle against Team Brianna. Only this time it's Team Maurako facing Team Collins. Is Mario done for? Are we looking at a lost cause for Mike Zybala?
Hood: Probably. Smart move placing him in their own car and not his car. Keep that guy locked up.
Smith: And now they are heading toward part two of their plan...what do you suppose that entails?
Hood: I'm not sure but I'd place a hefty wager that it has something to do with strengthening their odds at Death March
Smith: Could be...well folks it's time for our next match this evening as Melinda Rhodes looks to claim a singles win as she faces a member of Team Langston, Solomon Cain.
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“The Rebel” Melinda Rhodes (12-3) vs. Solomon Cain (3-1)
~The crowd has thoroughly enjoyed the action thus far. However, they are thirsty for more!! These metaphysical alcoholics! They know what’s coming up. It’s the first real PREVIEW we get of Death March. A member from opposing teams facing off. So, yea, these fans are JAZZED despite being far removed from Utah. Belvedere clears his throat! The crowd cheers louder than if some rich, lonely white guy had just announced a free round of drinks. It’s time for some more wrestling~
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 needs a win this week. He’s disappointed in back to back weeks. No, granted, losing to Mike Harrison is nothing to be ashamed about.
Hood: It’s not WHO he lost to. It’s HOW he lost.
Smith: Yep…he’s currently on Team Langston but you know The Legend is keeping a close eye on Solomon’s performance tonight.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
#DARLIN' YOU GIVE LOVE....
#A BAD NAME!!!!
#FFFUCK YYYYEEEEAAAAAAOOOOOHHHH!!!!
~Atreyu's, cover of "You Give Love a Bad Name" 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 a fringed red and blue leather vest and black leather bra, while her ass is 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.~
Smith: And there she is! One of the best wrestlers – not just in OCW, but in the world! Melinda Rhodes is back in action!
Hood: First singles match in a while, right?
Smith: Indeed! We haven’t seen Rhodes in singles action since Pre-Serial Thrillers.
Hood: When we were all young and fresh
Smith: I don’t know about young
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds and the fans are ready for some action~
Smith: Big match with heavy Death March implications
Hood: Yea Solomon Cain has a chance to deliver a devastating blow to Team Rhodes
Smith: Indeed…and, of course, if Rhodes notches the victory that could create some concern in the mind of Vincent Langston
Hood: Now’s not the time to be hanging around with losers, Smith
~Cain saunters up to Rhodes, looking and acting extremely arrogant. Rhodes keeps a steady gaze on the much larger, imposing figure. Solomon cracks a half smile as he looks down at Rhodes. He starts to talk some trash. The fans start to boo. They don’t appreciate the way he’s treating one of their favorites~
Smith: Solomon Cain hasn’t really had a whole lot to brag about in the month of November. He may want to do less talking and more walking
Hood: Why? Is he in a marathon or something?
Smith: Figuratively speaking
Hood: A figurative marathon. That sounds exhausting
Smith: That’s not what I meant!
~Cain reaches out and motions to pat Rhodes on the head, like she’s a kid. Melinda is having none of this. She snares his hand, grabs to fingers and yanks them in opposite directions! We hear a ‘pop’. Cain yells out in pain, holding his right hand! The crowd goes wild!! Rhodes stands him upright and begins to deliver some knife edged chops, sending Cain into a corner. Once in the corner, Rhodes balls up her fists and peppers Cain with jabs to the face and ribs. Cain can barely keep up~
Smith: Melinda Rhodes is off to a hot start! Cain looks slow and unprepared
Hood: I wonder if he ate his Thanksgiving meal BEFORE the match
Smith: That would be an early Thanksgiving dinner
Hood: Some people just can’t help themselves
~Rhodes backs up. Cain is slouched, hanging in the corner by a FIGURATIVE thread. He starts to perk up, slightly. Just enough to stumble out of the corner, toward Rhodes. He’s got his hands up, ready to fight a war he simply cannot win. Melinda is ready for him. She’s waiting. He gets near her, close enough for The Rebel to strike. And, that’s exactly what happens. Rhodes pounces on the opportunity by snaring Cain’s head and dropping him with SHOT IN THE DARK!!! The entire arena pops for the move!! Cain flips over onto his back. Rhodes makes the cover. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…“THE REBEL” MELINDA RHODES!!!!!
Smith: Wow…I did not see this coming
Hood: Rhodes just worked Cain over like the OCW twitter account works over delusional wrestlers with misplaced, inflated egos.
Smith: I wouldn’t know. I avoid twitter like the plague...the bubonic plague
Hood: So you don’t avoid other plagues? What about locusts? Would you avoid locusts?
Smith: Just because a guy named Solomon is in the ring doesn’t give you the green light to get biblical on us, Hood
Hood: My bad
~As "You Give Love a bad name" hits the P/A the Rebel celebrates her victory in the ring. She climbs the nearest turnbuckle, cups her hands around her mouth, and lets out the Rebel Yell....~
Rebel: WWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooo!!!!
~It's at that moment "FOR THE GLORY" hit's the house P/A and out steps Bruce Rage, immediately getting the Rebel's attention. She drops down off the turnpost and crouches down at the ready as the big man walks down, tag team championship on his shoulder, microphone in hand. He's dressed rather slick in a navy suit jacket, tan slacks, polished brown shoes, Gucci designer shades, his gold Rolex, and a #BROCODE T-shirt. Around his waist is the gleaming OCW Tag Team Championship belt.~
BRage: Live it up bitch....
~He stops halfway down the ramp and points a finger directly at her.~
BRage: ... You just beat a guy who wasn't even trying! What's a matter, Rebel? Can't take on real fighters anymore?!
~Melinda motions for a mic, which is tossed towards her and she catches with ease.~
Rebel: I don't book the matches son, but I've still got gas in the tank. Come on and step up so I can knock your ass down!
~Bruce visibly bristles and walks up to the ring, peeling off his jacket. However, he stops right outside the ring, instead hooking his jacket by two fingers over his shoulder.~
BRage: I'd just embarrass you again and besides? Without your husband to fight your battles for you, you're nothing compared to the King of Bros. This is the closest YOU WILL EVER GET TO THE TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP!
~He waves his hand and starts to walk off with the crowd booing, an evil smirk on his face.~
Rebel: What's a matter? Afraid you might legit get your ass kicked by someone that's a third and a half your weight?
~He stops and looks over his shoulder.~
BRage: Bitch please, you think you're going to get me to fight you with that shit?
~Rebel laughs and leans against the ropes.~
Rebel: I don't know, I'm not the one stepping out here in a designer suit pretending he's going to pick a fight only to get a cheap dig and walk away. What do you think this is, son, twitter?
~Bruce shakes his head and takes a few steps back towards the ring, the Rebel backing away from the ropes.~
BRage: You're nothing but a FWH-
~The Rebel leaps onto the ropes and springboards with a shooting star flip, catches the unprepared Bruce Rage in a front facelock and DRILLS HIM to the floor with the REBEL STAR PRESS!!!~
Crowd: REBEL! REBEL! REBEL! REBEL! REBEL! REBEL!
~The impact was thunderous and devastating, but Bruce manages to get back up swinging, albeit on wobbly legs. The Rebel easily dodges his strikes, peppering him with body shots in all the right places before OCW Security rushes out, pulling the Rebel back, but not stopping Bruce at all who rushes in with a BRUTAL right hand shot that practically drops her on the spot. She starts fighting to get up, blood gushing from her nose~
~Again Security stands between the two and the Rebel gets wise, leaping up onto the shoulders of a security guard and onto Bruce with a Lou Thesz Press and Knuckle, just battering him with punishing blows to the head! More security comes out along with a few wrestlers from the back! The entire scene erupts into an all out riot as fists fly in all directions just trying to separate these two people. Shootah gets dropped by a right cross from Rhodes! Jack Puffer meets the business end of Bruce's headbutt! ~
Crowd: LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!!!
~Bruce takes out several security guys with lariats, kicks, and headbutts and as he's coming back from one such shot, the Rebel catches him in a 3/4th's necklock and drops straight down on the floor with A SHOT IN THE DARK! She hops up giving him dual fingers as security rushes in to pull her back. Bruce tries to sit up using the guard rail but ends up falling back down, disoriented and stunned!~
Smith: Talk about confrontational...Bruce Rage is after any and everyone here in OCW!
Hood: Yea, the guy likes to fight. Dude might need to slow down a tick. He's going to wind up with more enemies than a guy who insists on bringing up politics at every social function
Smith: Ugh, I know the type. Rhodes looked good though. She decimated Cain and took the fight right to Bruce. I don't know when those two will be in the ring again but I can guarantee it will hapepn
~We cut backstage to the office of Commissioner Mike Zybala. He is sitting behind his desk, looking at the camera.~
Zybala: Ladies and gentlemen. I am Commissioner Zybala. While I am preparing for my eventual transition into becoming the general manager, I have some matters to attend to. Due to the actions of the current G.M., OCW was facing a lawsuit. Mr. Welsh told me to take charge and make it go away, which I did. Also, in the same stroke, I made another of Marcus's problems go away.
After talking with Mr. Losem's lawyer, we have come to an agreement where Mr. Losem will drop his lawsuit if he is able to become a OCW wrestler and receive two guaranteed title matches. I agreed hurriedly to these terms and ended this legal nightmare.
~The crowd pops. Why? We aren't entirely sure~
Smith: Two title matches for Losem? That seems...well, excessive
Hood: Fucking hell! People like Hellraven are struggling to earn a title shot and some dipshit from Outsiders receives TWO of them? This fucking guy. Holy shit
Smith: I'm sure Welsh can still veto them.
Hood: And bring the lawsuit back. I doubt it
Mike Zybala: These title matches will be announced in the very near future. Enjoy the rest of your evening. Back to you Hood and Smith.
~We cut away~
Smith: I'm sure Marcus Welsh will have some say in the booking of Losem's title matches
Hood: Ya think? Zybala wants to turn this fucking place into a zoo. I can't stand it!
Smith: He's merely doing what he believes is right. You can't fault a man for that
Hood: YES YOU CAN
~Figure 8 by Trust Company begins to play, and out walks Death March Team Captain Curt Canon. He has a more confident swagger to his step. Slowly taking his time to get to the ring. Inside the ring there is a couch for Curts guest and and a desk for him to sit behind. (Think any tonight show set cause laziness.) Before he takes his seat behind his desk he grabs a microphone and addresses the fans.~
Canon: “ I would like to welcome everyone to the second ever episode of Curt Canon’s Run In, but I mean in reality you all had no choice but to be here since you spent the little bit of money you don’t have to buy a ticket. I’m not going to dwell too much on that though since you are helping my bank account rise while your families go hungry so you can all live vicariously through me and the rest of the OCW locker room. Enough about you and your selfish ways though. Let us get down to business. As all of you know Death March is a few weeks away and I was tasked by our most gracious General Manager Marcus Welsh to lead a team into battle against one of Mike Zybalas. Last week we saw the full formation of two of the eight teams, tonight I am here to announce the second and third member of Team Canon.”
~ Curt walks around and takes a seat at his desk. He reaches down and pulls open one of his drawers. When he brings his hand up he is holding a nice cold bottle of Miller High Life. He opens it takes a swig and places the bottle on the desk in front of him before he begins to speak again.~
Canon: “Now without further ado let me introduce you to the second member of Team Canon. He is a former OCW Craze Champion. He is Mike Harrison.”
~'Psycho' by Muse can be heard through the sound system and Harrison emerges from behind the black curtain. Upon seeing Harrison the crowd springs into life with cheers that echo around the arena. He stops and stretches his arms out wide taking it all in with a smile on his face. A few moments pass and Harrison makes his way down the ramp to the ring and taps the hands of fans along the way. When he reaches the ring he stops and stares intently at the ring, a moment later he slides under the bottom rope pops back up and stares at Curt Canon who is standing up behind his desk clapping for his first teammate. He motions Mike to come over to the couch.~
Canon: “Would you like a Champagne of Beers?”
~Mike approaches the couch and takes a seat. He is wearing a broad smile and looks happy to be here. After the events of Massacre, in which he had been subject to a vicious beat down, he was glad to be with someone he could rely on. After a few moments he picks up the mic placed to his side and raises his other hand to quiet the crowd.
Mike: “Thank you, Curt. Normally I’d love a beer but I’m the designated driver for the group tonight! I’m kind that way. So let’s get down to business...”
Canon: “ That's what we like to hear. Business it is. First and foremost I would like to tell you that I appreciate you accepting the offer to join my Death March team. As soon as I found out my team was facing off against Eds team, you were the first name that popped into my head. Who better to stand side by side with me than the man who tore the OCW Craze Championship right out of Houston's Hands.”
Mike: “Exactly. I beat Ed Houston, fair and square, and tore away his OCW Craze Championship. Who better to select for your team than the guy who proved he could topple the face of OCW? It makes perfect sense for us to align our interests at this time. I can give you the insights you need to take out Ed Houston and knock that smug smile off his face, and you in return give me the opportunity to potentially be that lone survivor that lands a shot at the grandest championship in professional wrestling today - the OCW Championship. In years gone by I would have slapped your hand away, but in light of recent events, and in light of what could potentially result from this opportunity, I look forward to being your partner at the coming pay per view.”
Canon: “ Isn't it amazing what can happen when the stars align, when people share a common goal. I knew you would be a great pick for Team Canon. I know you will click with this group, and I also know that this doesn't necessarily mean a long term friendship and that is fine with me. I see potential in you Mike. I know you have what it takes to make it to the finals of Death March, I know you will one day become an OCW Champion. However this is going to be the hardest route to that title and I’m sure our other Teammate and our soon to be Teammate will have some…..”
~“Who Taught You How to Hate” by Disturbed resonates around the arena as the crowd jumps to their feet. The cheers fill the OCW Arena louder by the second as The Incredible One emerges from the back, slowly. He isn’t his usual self, as the dark circles from last week have grown, his blood shot eyes even more red and he’s wearing dirty street clothes. TIO nods to the crowd, acknowledging their cheers, but motions over his throat to cut his music as he looks down the ramp, staring at the Run In set. TIO puts the mic to see mouth and laughs before speaking.~
TIO: Curt… last week I came out to put my career to an end, to rest, to tell the world I needed to fix myself and you promised me a reason to return to the ring. You promised me a reason to reverse course and join Team Canon… and I’m still waiting. When you said you were going to announce a team member, I gave you a little more chance then I did minutes ago because after you trashed the fans about them spending their hard earned money to see you become rich, I almost left this arena. Some people in this arena aren't’ fortune enough like us - but don’t take that for granted because maybe I’ll walk down this ramp and piledriver your head into the concrete and then you’ll be the poor ass who can’t wrestle anymore.
~Canon laughs off the threat, shakingly, as the crowd chants “TIO” loudly.~
TIO: And no offense at all Mike Harrison, I have absolutely nothing against you. You seem like a great guy and you did beat Ed Houston, who I consider one of the finest wrestler’s in this business. I’ve wrestled Houston before and he’s pushed me to the limit. You were Crave Champion and that was your first step to greatness in OCW. Let me give you a piece of advice… don’t team with this ass. This is not the way to greatness. Sure - he’s an OCW Hall of Famer... but only because Scott Syren helped him get there. Let’s face it - without Syren - Curt would be another nobody.
~A loud “OOOH” echoes throughout the arena, as Canon reacts frustratingly to TIO’s comment. Canon goes to reply but TIO cuts him off.~
TIO: Don’t even speak Curt! I’m so angry right now - why did I entertain this? You took me when I was vulnerable and pulled on my heart to try and get the help you absolutely need to have ANY chance of getting into the Death March main event. But what you’ve done is the exact opposite - you’ve pissed me off. And now, I’m coming to kick your ass.
~TIO drops the mic as he begins down the ramp. ~
Curt: “Whoa! Easy there big guy. You need to remember who you are talking to. I have been a mainstay in this company for almost 20 years, I was the second ever OCW Heavyweight Champion, the first to beat the unbeatable Lurrr…..but all of you already know that. I may have gotten Syrens help to get into the Hall of Fame but trust I have every right to be there. Greatness breeds greatness TIO and not only is Scott Syren great but he is probably the greatest wrestler in OCW history. He is the one true OCW Heavyweight Champion and he will prove that at Death March when he takes out your former running buddy Matt Meyhu...however that has nothing to do with us just yet.”
~ Curt reaches for his Miller High Life and takes a sip, he puts the bottle down and stares at TIO who is on the outside of the ring waiting to make his move.~
Curt: “ You see TIO you have it all wrong. I never chose to be a captain for a Death March team, hell I was planning on sitting this one out but Welsh had another idea so now here we are. Now I have accepted the fact that I will never wear that OCW Championship around my waste again, shit I’m not even expecting to make anywhere near the Death March finals but that doesn't mean I can’t help. If Syren taught me anything it is how to be great and how to help unlock that greatness in others. The big difference between me and you TIO is that I still exude the traits of a Hall of Fame member, but you. You are just a broken shell of your former self. Let me, no let us help you TIO. That fire...that intensity that you just showed strutting down that ramp, walking to the ring acting like you were going to beat my ass that is what this team needs in order to survive, in order to help unlock everyone's greatness. The old you is still in there The Incredible One is still inside withering away in the prison you locked him in. You turned over a new leaf, you became a “good guy “ and all that got you was a dead wife and a daughter who hates you.”
~ Harrison is taken back by Curts words he looks at his team leader and Curt looks back at him. He reassures Mike that it's all part of the plan with a simple head nod. TIO enraged by the utter disrespect Canon shows toward his family climbs into the ring and gets ready to tear Curt’s head off. TIO slides into the ring.~
TIO: You see this horse shit, Mike? Listen, if Canon wasn’t involved, I’d happily team with you, but the fact he’s smeared my wife - that’s it. You claim you want me - but let’s face it Canon - Welsh put you on the spot and now you NEED me, or you’re fucked. Well, you’re fucked either way.
~TIO goes to drive the mic into Canon’s head when a voice over is heard. ~
????: TIO sorry about your wife and I tried to warn you that your daughter was a backstabber. Talk to you soon buddy.
~The voice disappears as the crowd murmurs, wondering who the voice belongs to. TIO turns to Curt, who is smirking from ear-to-ear, and Mike looks confused.~
TIO: Is that who I think it is?
~Curt answers with a simple nod. TIO, reacting with a tiny laugh but then shifts to more anger, begins pacing back and forth, thinking. He then stops back in front of Curt and speaks.~
TIO: If he shows… I’m in.
~The crowd gives a mixed reaction as TIO drops the mic and leaves the ring. Curt begins to speak to Mike, reassuring him of the plan as TIO walks up the ramp, the feed cutting to the announce team.~
Smith: Team Curt is starting to grow! He's procured the services of Mike Harrison...the man to dethrone Ed Houston as Craze Champion and now he's trying to sign TIO!
Hood: If he gets TIO that would be HUGE. It all seems predicated upon the identity of that mysterious voice
Smith: Any clue who that is?
Hood: I have a few guesses. If it's who I think it may be then Team Canon will be the team to beat at Death March
Smith: Curt's playing a far more sophisticated game than in years past. This man might be on the path to Chess superiority
Hood: Don't tell Checkers!
Smith: Never
~We go backstage where we see Solomon Cain angrily knocking things over after his loss to Melinda Rhodes. He turns to see Vincent Langston, Saxon Rowe, and Vossler making their way over to him. Cain shakes his head and turns to the team.~
Solomon Cain: Sorry guys, that ugly bitch cheated. But I'll get her next time.
Vincent Langston: She's a tricky one, I've known that for months. But "next time" isn't that far away. Let's go.
~The four men move out, heading down the hall. They move into the parking garage, with Rowe kicking the door shut on the cameraman. But the man is paid by OCW and recovers to follow them out where we see them approaching a parking area. Sitting in a space is a shiny Corvette, with the name "Rhodes" on the sign to the side of the car.~
Hood: They've found Rhodes' ride! Wow, I may not like her, but the chick has good taste.
Smith: What are they going to do, wait in ambush? Who knows what condition Rhodes is in following that fight with Bruce Rage! They could eliminate her from Death March tonight!
Hood: I wouldn't be surprised if that was the plan, Smith.
~The four wrestlers study the car. Vossler doesn't seem impressed. Cain cracks his knuckles in anticipation. Rowe is looking around to see if anyone is approaching. Langston looks calm, thinking about other times that involved travelling with Rhodes in cars like this.~
Saxon Rowe: I think it's a rental, the cheap fuck.
Solomon Cain: I say we trash it before we deal with her. Break the damn windows out.
Vincent Langston: My thoughts exactly.
~Without another word, Langston nails Cain in the back of the skull! Cain falls forward onto the car, stunned, and Langston signals to Rowe and Vossler, who knew this was coming. They pound on Cain from either side, beating the resistance from him as the crowd reacts to the assault.~
Hood: Not the elimination I was expecting.
Smith: Solomon Cain is being taken out by his own teammates!
~With Cain slumped against the back of the Corvette, Langston moves in. He kicks Cain in the stomach and lifts him into the air, powerbombing him onto the roof of the car! Glass flies everywhere as the roof caves in. Cain is left, not moving, slumped partway into the back window of the Corvette, which has shattered inside. The crowd chants Holy Shit!~
Hood: If that's a rental, Rhodes isn't getting her deposit back.
~Rowe and Vossler turn away as Langston motions to the cameraman to come towards him. He does so doing his job hoping that Langston doesn't put him through the next car.~
Vincent Langston: My sympathies on the car Rebel. It was a sweet ride. Don't worry. We aren't going to spoil the anticipation for our fight already. We weren't here for you. Solomon Cain told us he was a fighter. He was ruthless. He was dangerous. But he's proven himself to be a loser. And you don't deserve to fight losers, Rebel. So we took care of him for you. You're welcome.
~Cain can be heard groaning. Vossler moves in to shut him up. Rowe is laughing.~
Vincent Langston: But you need not be concerned. You will get your four-member fight at Death March. We have already acquired our new fourth teammate, and this person is already far more dangerous than Cain ever was. More dangerous for you, after all. Considering that you have a history with this person, in the past, present.. and future. Isn't that right.. partner?
~The cameraman turns where Langston looks, but there is no one there. The only things in that direction are the vehicles for Rhodes' teammates for Death March who were here to watch her back. The cameraman turns back to Langston, who smiles grimly, pointing a finger towards the camera, and then he and his team turn and leave the area. The cameraman focuses on Cain who is no longer making any noise. We go back to ringside.~
Smith: What was that about? Who's the fourth team member?
Hood: Langston made it sound like they're nearby. You don't think he was eluding to someone close to Rhodes, do you?
Smith: Who? The cameraman? The parking attendant?
Hood: No you idiot, one of Team Rhodes! That's their cars that he left unscathed!
Smith: Oh. No, of course not, that team is completely loyal to the Rebel. It must be someone else.
Hood: Or maybe that's what he wants you to think!
Smith: Stop stirring stuff up Hood!
Hood: If I quit stirring nothing would ever get cooked around here!
Smith: Right, right...well folks it's time for our main event! Ed Houston is set to take on Bob Grenier with the winner facing Vincent Langston for the Savage Championship. Let's head down to ringside
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Savage Title #1 Contenders Match
Ed Houston (13-7) vs. Bob Grenier (15-13)
~The crowd is ravenous! They’ve got a fever! This fever intensifies with each passing moment! They want to see some VIOLENCE! And not just singles match violence – nah, fuck that pussy ass shit. They want some straight savagery! They know the main event is upcoming. They aren’t stupid. It doesn’t take Alfred Weinstein to memorize a SIX match card. Belvedere clears his throat and the crowd goes wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is our Main Event of the evening! It will be waged under SAVAGE rules. The winner of this bout will receive a shot at Vincent Langston’s OCW Savage Championship! Introducing first…
#OOOOOOOH
~"Where the Hood at" by DMX hit's the House PA as the man, the myth, the legend of OCW himself steps out onto the stage wearing his full ring gear and a pair of shades on his face. He takes a long, final hit from the blunt between his lips, letting out a big billow of smoke before randomly flicking it off to his side. Naturally someone's there to pick it up, at least we hope so anyway. The bleach blond bearded scrapper with a forehead that looked like a side of beef and a body full of scars heads straight for the ring. A fan raises a fist out towards him and he gives the man a little knuckle bump before rushing towards the ring. He slides under the ropes, rolls to a crouch, and rises to a full stand with a fist in the air.~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…he is a former OCW Champion and an OCW Hall of Famer….he is Canada’s greatest export…he is…Bob Grenier!!!
Smith: And there he is…a man that bleeds OCW! So nice to see Bob back!
Hood: Oh you knew Bob would come back in time to compete at OCW’s first Canadian PPV. That shit was a given
Smith: Bob’s had a trying 2018. If he can win tonight that might be the jolt he needs to turn this ship around! Good luck Mr. Grenier!
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the arena. Rocket Man starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way down the entrance ramp. He stops by fans in the crowd and high fives them. Once he gets about half way down the ramp, he sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he waves to the crowd~
Belvedere: From Miami, Florida…standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is a former Craze Champion…he is the final OCW LightWeight Champion…he is…Ed Houston!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds. Ed, with the LW Title around his waist, slowly removes it and places it in his corner, underneath the bottom buckle~
Smith: And here we go! Bob Grenier…a current Hall of Famer against one of OCW’s top new age stars, Ed Houston. The winner gets Vincent Langston
Hood: This is a new element for Ed. The guy is always flying around off of ladders and cables. This time he’s going to have to brawl against one of OCW’s most violent wrestlers, Bob Grenier
Smith: Indeed. Bob is no stranger to extreme wrestling. He will use that experience to his advantage. Can Ed keep up? We’re about to find out!
~Grenier attempts to take advantage of Ed removing his title. He rushes forward and leaps into the air for a splash. Ed, though, darts out of the way, slipping through the middle and top rope! Grenier SMASHES head first into the top buckle. He staggers backward. Ed jumps up, springboards off the top rope and dropkicks Bob in the chest!! Bob falls to the mat, hard! The fans are solidly behind The Rocket Man~
Smith: Bob was looking for a fast start but managed to give the early edge to Ed
Hood: Man every decision Bob makes this year is the wrong one. Guy might need to switch drugs
Smith: What do you mean?
Hood: Well if he’s smoking legal Canadian weed he should stop and go with meth or cocaine. You know, clear the ole Grenier mind
Smith: That’s terrible
~Houston is back on his feet. Bob is stunned. He shakes his head while returning to his feet, visibly shaken. Grenier reaches his feet. Ed charges in, snares Bob by the head and drops him with Slingblade!!! Bob hits the mat hard! The crowd is on fire!! Houston goes for a quick pin, thinking Bob’s stunned enough to stay down for three seconds. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Whoa!!
Hood: Fucking close…man have we ever seen a savage rules match end without any violence?
Smith: What are you talking about? We saw a dropkick AND a slingblade
Hood: Psshaw, that’s not violence. I’m talking about MANLY shit like closed fists and razor blades to the face
Smith: Oh dear
~Ed slaps at the mat. He’s not angry, just frustrated. He may be thinking he could have attempted Blastoff rather than the pin. But the undaunted OCW star pops back to his feet. Grenier rolls onto all fours. He’s still stunned. It’s obvious by the look in his eyes that he realizes he’s in deep shit. Ed sprints forward. He leaps into the air, looking for a double foot stomp onto Bob’s back. Bob, though, raises up when he feels Ed’s feet. This propels Houston into the air. Ed, displaying his quickness and agility, performs a backflip, landing on one knee. Grenier crawls away as quickly as he can, into Ed’s corner, hugging the bottom buckle~
Smith: I think Bob wants a reset
Hood: Yea well he’s not going to get it.
Smith: Is it just me or does Ed look better than ever tonight?
Hood: Success breeds confidence, Smith. Ed’s win over Canon was by far the biggest of his career. No pun intended (alright the pun IS intended) but Houston’s career might be set to blastoff
Smith: Ha ha
~Houston takes off from a stance resembling a sprinter’s start. He charges at Bob. Grenier, though, pops to his feet and greets Ed with a belt shot!! He smashes Ed right in the face with the LW Title!! Houston stumbles backward. He spins around. Grenier takes the belt by one of the straps and he slings it at Ed. The opposite strap SMACKS Houston in the face!! Ed instantly covers his face. Grenier drills Ed in the gut with the belt. Houston doubles over. Bob slams the face of the belt into Ed’s back!! Houston straightens up, arching his back. Bob lunges forward, smacking Ed in the face with the belt a second time!!! Houston hits the mat and slowly rolls out of the ring, falling roughly to the outside floor. Grenier holds the LW title up before dropping it to the mat and stumbling into the ropes. He’s still feeling the impact from Ed’s initial offense~
Smith: Oh my! That was brutal
Hood: Ya know if you’re stepping into a savage rules match with a guy like Bob you probably should leave all weapons in the back.
Smith: He’s proud of his belt, Hood
Hood: Yea and we all see what that pride earned him. A fucked up face
~Grenier, while leaning against the ropes (opposite from Ed’s location) falls through them. He’s not a clumsy fool. It was on purpose, chill out people! He lands on the apron and then on his feet. He staggers into the barricade, continuing to catch his breath. Ed, meanwhile, is on his knees with his forehead to the ground. We can see dark, wet spots around him. It appears he’s bleeding. Grenier high fives a few fans who are screaming about “OCW 2015, BABY!” That was a good year for Bob. Grenier stands and heads around the ring, looking for Ed. He reaches the side of the ring perpendicular to Ed’s location. He reaches under the ring and finds a steel chair. He holds it up much to the crowd’s delight. Bob slaps the ‘seat’ of the chair a few times to create noise and chaos! He continues his march toward Ed~
Smith: I think Ed might be busted open!
Hood: Ya think?
Smith: Well I mean we saw what appeared to be red liquid around his body
Hood: Yea so he’s either busted open or he’s a lush spilling his hidden wine all over the ringside area
~Houston gets to his knees and leans back. We see a deep red gash running along his left cheek. We assume it’s from Bob slinging the belt strap at him. Blood is leaking from the gash, down his face and dripping from his chin. He stumbles into the barricade looking potentially concussed. Out of nowhere Grenier charges into view swinging the chair at Ed! Houston ducks! The chair SLAMS into the top of the barricade. Fans in the front row scream and dart out of the way. Well, aside from this one drunk guy with an IGGY HARDY shirt on. He is totally excited. Grenier, with a wild look in his eyes, turns around. Ed is leaning back on the steps. Grenier pulls the chair over his head and rushes forward, slamming it at Ed. Houston ducks and crawls between Bob’s legs. The chair SLAMS into the steps! Grenier lets go with one hand, wincing. The jarred impact has agitated his aging joints. Houston gets to his feet and stumbles forward~
Smith: Bob is trying to demolish Ed with that chair!
Hood: Bob and Ed. Are these the two most normal names in a match ever?
Smith: Hm…could be. I’d say they probably make for the shortest combined name in an OCW match.
Hood: Bob and Ed. I like it
~Grenier works his hand open and shut. He regains full control of the chair and charges at Ed from behind. Houston suddenly bursts forward. He leaps up onto the barricade, he performs a backflip over Grenier. Grenier halts before running into the barricade. He reaches up, finding some of Ed’s blood on his shoulder. He turns and charges. He’s met with a Spinning Heel Kick that smacks the chair into Grenier’s head!!! Bob falls to the floor! Houston instantly grabs at his ankle. The move agitated the bone~
Smith: Houston is so athletic. A worthy last LightWeight Champion
Hood: Well he WAS athletic. That kick into the chair might have fucked his ankle up
Smith: It’s probably fleeting pain. Like when you ram your toe into the side of a doorway
Hood: I’ve never done that. I am not a klutz
Smith: EVERYONE HAS DONE THAT
Hood: How about a guy with no legs?
Smith: Okay, maybe not everyone
Hood: What if their wheel hits the side of the door way? Does the tire blow out? Do they spin out like cars do when they suffer a blow out?
Smith: Back to the match!
~We see some blood drip from the top of Grenier’s head as he rolls onto all fours. The scar tissue on his forehead has been compromised. Ed, meanwhile, is still sporting a pretty nasty, irritated gash on his cheek. He sits on the apron and reaches for his ankle, checking it out. It seems to be fine, structurally. He lets go of his ankle and stands atop the apron. His focus turns toward Grenier, who is on his feet, staggering. Grenier appears to be looking for the chair. It’s behind him. He turns around and sees the chair. This faces him toward Ed. Houston, obviously caught up in the moment, throws a penalty kick at Grenier’s head with his inflamed ankle. Bob catches his leg and rips Ed off the apron!! Ed falls face first onto the ground. Grenier, with the ankle in his grasp, seamlessly transitions into an Ankle Lock!! Houston yells out in pain! The crowd surrounding the ring is on their feet, cheering and yelling. Scruff flies through the ropes to check on Ed. Houston refuses to quit~
Smith: Smart move by the former OCW Champion!
Hood: No shit. We just saw the difference between a Craze Champion and an OCW Champion. Awareness, veteran tendencies, that undefinable, unteachable characteristic which separates main events from the rest of the roster.
Smith: Ed, caught up in the moment, gave his weakened ankle to Bob who didn’t fail to take advantage. That’s how Grenier rose to the top of OCW
Hood: Yep, Ed’s going to have to cut that shit out of his repertoire if he ever hopes to reach Bob’s level
~Ed, being something of an expert when it comes to ankle locks (Countdown), is able to tuck and roll, relieving his joint of the pain. The roll sends Bob tumbling forward, into the barricade. The impact is minimal, so Bob returns to his feet quickly. Houston gets to his and limps away from Grenier. Grenier follows Ed, grabbing the chair while en route. Houston reaches the steps and pauses. He takes some pressure off his leg. Grenier throws a chair shot at Ed’s head. Houston ducks and the chair CRACKS against the steel post! Once again Bob’s hands are irritated by an errant chair shot. He drops the chair to the ground and yells “FUCK!” as loud as he can, working his hands open and shut~
Smith: And now it’s Grenier making the mistake!
Hood: He legit tried to murder Ed with that chair shot
Smith: I don’t think attempted murder is a good idea in 2018 OCW.
Hood: Nope, with casual murder banned from all OCW shows victory via homicide seems impossible
Smith: Indeed
~Houston rolls back into the ring, where it’s safe(r). Grenier grabs the steel chair and rolls into the ring. Ed pcks up his LW title. Grenier gets to his feet and engages in a standoff with Houston. Ed reaches up, feeling the slash on his cheek. He drops half the title, maintaining a tight grip onto the strap. He begins to swing it. Grenier looks around, nervously. His chair doesn’t have the reach of Ed’s belt~
Smith: Houston attempting to return the favor
Hood: He already did! Bob’s busted open!
Smith: Yea but most would argue the belt shot Ed took earlier in the match was far more vicious
Hood: True. Busting Bob open isn’t that tough, given the amount of scar tissue. I heard he got busted open last week when a gust of wind hit him head on.
Smith: That’s insane
~Houston slings the belt at Grenier. Bob uses the chair to shield his body. The belt slaps against the chair. Houston pulls it back, getting for another swing when Bob throws the chair at Ed’s stomach. It hits Houston right in the abs! Ed drops the title and falters, staggering down to one knee. Grenier rushes in and hooks Ed’s head. The crowd rises…he’s got a Front Chancery locked, deep~
Smith: This is the setup to Hollinger Park Hangman!
Hood: Oh shit!
Smith: If Bob hits this, it’ll be over!
~Bob hoists Ed up, onto his shoulders. He swiftly drops Houston to the mat with Hollinger Park Hangman!! The crowd pops, at first, before beginning to boo. Grenier returns to his feet and looks down at Ed~
Smith: No pin?
Hood: He’s got a new finisher, Smith. Outside Looking In!
Smith: Yes, I know that. But Hollinger Park Hangman won him the OCW Title. You’d think he’d at least attempt a pin after executing it.
Hood: Bob doesn’t think, Smith. He just punches people in the face
~Grenier pulls Ed back to his feet. He’s got him hooked in a wheel barrow. Bob tries to toss Ed into the air, but Ed dives downward, rolling Bob up!! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: So close!
Hood: Damn! Bob really wants to hit that new finisher
Smith: It might wind up costing him this match
~Bob’s kick out sends Ed flying into a corner. His face hits the middle buckle. He backs up, into Grenier’s arms. Bob lifts him up in the wheel barrow, tosses Houston into the air and drops him with a neckbreaker (Outside Looking In)!!! The crowd pops for the move!! While executing the move, however, Bob lands on the steel chair! He quickly grabs the back of his head! Ed is out~
Smith: Outside Looking In!!! Bob’s got this victory secured if he can make a pin
Hood: The NASA flunky is about to crash and burn…WHAT A SHOCK
Smith: Rude
~Grenier remains down for awhile, holding his head. He finally rolls over and spots Ed, who hasn’t moved. Grenier crawls over Ed and makes the cover. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3…NO!
Smith: Ed kicked out!
Hood: It took Bob way too fucking long to make that pin
Smith: Yep…landing on that chair while giving Ed a neckbreaker stunned him just long enough to prevent a three count.
~Bob returns to his feet, pissed. He gives the back of his head an aggressive rub. He snares Houston and lifts him up in the wheel barrow position for a (what has to be an OCW record) third time!! Houston reaches out, frantically. He manages to grab the top rope. He ‘crawls’ the top rope with his hands, dragging Bob toward the corner. Houston reaches the corner, still in the wheel barrow position, holding onto the top rope with both hands. Grenier, realizing he won’t be able to hit Outside Looking In from this position, adjusts. He gets underneath Ed, hoisting The Rocket Man onto his shoulder~
Smith: Bob looking for Snake Eyes?
Hood: Something like that…but Ed’s got a vice grip on that rope.
Smith: Yep, the minute Ed lets go for that rope he’s going to be in big trouble
Hood: Nice
~Ed manages to throw a knee into the back of Bob’s head! Grenier staggers. His grip on Ed loosens. Using the ropes, Houston manages to pull Bob into the corner. Grenier slams, front first into the buckles. Ed remains behind him, he hooks Bob around the waist and tosses him with a Release German Suplex!! Bob hits hard! Houston begins to ascend the corner~
Smith: Houston is looking to hit Blastoff!
Hood: Shit…get up, Bob!
Smith: I don’t know, Hood. The back of his head has taken quite a beating these past few minutes
~Ed reaches the top. He looks down at his ankle. It’s red and agitated. He looks at Bob. There is a moment of doubt in his mind. Can he perform the move with a sore ankle? He realizes he’s taking too long and needs to make up his mind. So, he jumps. He doesn’t get the lift he usually gets. It isn’t certain he’s going to get a full rotation. The landing is starting to look dangerous. He flips over…he comes down and he HITS IT!! The crowd goes wild. Ed, grimacing, makes the cover, hooking both legs. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender for the OCW Savage Championship….ED HOUSTON!!!!!
Smith: Ed did it! The kid did it! He just knocked off another Hall of Famer!
Hood: Shit…I feel so bad for Bob. Damnit
Smith: It has been a tough year for Bob Grenier. There’s no way around that fact.
Hood: I guess Ed took the words from Dirk more seriously than he let on. The guy is one win away from capturing a title that actually means something…or, well, ya know, is active
Smith: He certainly is putting together a very, very good OCW career. Some think the best is yet to come for Ed.
Hood: And Bob?
Smith: Bob’s just had a tough run of luck lately. Nothing seems to be going right for him…but, with Death March a month away he, like everyone else, can turn everything around in one night. Bob could be the #1 Contender for the OCW Title four weeks from tonight.
Hood: That is true
Smith: Well folks let's head backstage before we bring tonight's festivities to a close
#WHERE DA' HOOD
#WHERE DA' HOOD
#WHERE DA' HOOD AT!!!
~A close up of a name plate on the office door reads "Welsh". A strum of knuckles brought across the door prompts the man behind the scenes to address it.~
Marcus Welsh: Com --
~Before he could even finish the sentence, the door to the office was forced open. A brisk breeze blew as the man of the hour furiouly walked in, waving a paper around in the air. He was clearly upset at something.~
Marcus Welsh: Jacob, to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing one-half of the greatest OCW Tag Team Champions tonight? And how is my golden egg laying top draw this evening?
~Welsh said with his hands folded behind his head, feet now propped up on the desk. I'm sure if he had a cigar right now, he'd be puffing it like the Monopoly man collecting those dividend checks!~
Jacob Hotstuff: We had a deal, Welsh. We stipulated it in my contract and we made sure to dot those i's and cross those t's. Ironclad.
~Welsh sits up, the jovial nature gone from his face as Jacob angrily slams down the piece of paper on the desk.~
Jacob Hotstuff: Did you know about this? I received this e-mail in my commpany inbox this morning from the finance department. Go ahead, read it.
~Welsh reaches across the desk and grabs the paper, his lips visually moving as he reads the note;~
How are you this morning? While we are pleased you have been enjoying the OCW hospitality, and the rapid succession up the OCW ladder as a member of the company elite permanently etched into the history books of our iconic company, we're writing this morning to inform you of a change in your contractual obligations to this company. Now that you, along with Bruce Rage, are considered one of the flagbearing athletes of this company, you are hereby notified of a duty to be available for a minimum of 50% of television performances in addition to your pay-per-view responsibilities, or risk forfeiting the OCW Tag Team Championships.
All the best,
OCW Finance
~You could almost see Welsh' jaw drop at the wording in the letter. It was a pretty stark compliment to the pulsating vein throbbing in Jacob's head...~
Jacob Hotstuff: What's the meaning of this, Welsh? It's your company, we had a deal! I'm sure you're more than aware just how valuable the time is of a big time Hollywood celebrity...and I'm sure you wouldn't want anything to jeopardize the additional set of eyes that my presence brings the company. How much have you benefited from that OCW logo being seen on my bags that I carry into these big time movie studios? How much has the company thrived since my signing, what's the percentage of revenue growth we've generated since my arrival? It was your brainchild to bring the OFFICIAL Michael Bay of Pro Wrestling into OCW, right...?
Marcus Welsh: Th-th-this is clearly another Zybala plot! That idiot knows you have been my personal project star, Jacob, and he knows I'd never want to lose such a powerful, dedicated hand...
Jacob Hotstuff: I can't lose this title. That would make my premiere International Hollywood title awful lonely...so what are you going to do, to protect your "Welsh Original"?
Marcus Welsh: Maybe we can dupe Finance by dressing someone up like you and passing it off...
Jacob Hotstuff: Get real, besides we both know that no one can replicate my Blazin Brilliance. Although that gives me an idea...
Marcus Welsh: I'm all ears.
Jacob Hotstuff: ...Tell Finance they've got their match. Promote it, advertise it, next week on the post-Thanksgiving episode of Massacre, "Jacob Hotstuff makes his televised, one-on-one, wrestling debut."
Marcus Welsh: What?! You can't just give in to a cheap Zybala plot like that!
Jacob Hotstuff: Relax, I have a plan. But this is going to cost the company a lot more money...I hope you'll pass that bill along to accounts payable. Sign it "with much love, Jacob Hotstuff. xoxo"
Marcus Welsh: Well if it's a plan from the first ever "Welsh Original", then I'm confident it's a good one. You've got it. Anything to make the top draw that much more at home.
~A determined Hotstuff exits the GM's office. Welsh has a look of intrigue on his face. We cut back to the announcers~
Smith: What does that man have up his sleeve?
Hood: Was he even wearing sleeves?
Smith: It's a figure of speech!
Hood: Oh, well I don't know what his machinations are but if it means MORE Hotstuff then sign me up!
Smith: That man is going to worm his way into the heart of OCW if Welsh isn't careful.
Hood: You make that sound like it's a bad thing
Smith: That's because it is! It says here that we're scheduled to hear from Mario Maurako but...as we all know, that is unlikely to happen...
Aidan Collins: As we proceed, to give you what you need…
~The crowd boos as Aidan Collins walks out from the back with a microphone.~
Aidan Collins: Don’t worry, I’ve brought some entertainment for you monkeys!
Smith: Hey, that’s Big Bifford…and he’s carrying Alice Knight!
~The crowd boos wildly as Bifford walks out carrying the beloved fan favorite.~
Aidan Collins: Guys, why are you booing Alice? She’s not conscious enough to hear you booing. The absolute unit next to me hit her like a truck.
~Aidan and Bifford make their way down to the ring. Bifford rolls Alice’s body underneath the bottom rope as Aidan walks up the ring steps. The pair, half of Aidan’s Death March squad, leave Alice lying as they enter the ring.~
Smith: This isn’t right…
~Aidan pats Bifford on the back, signaling that he has done a great job tonight.~
Aidan Collins: Now, I’m sure at this moment, you guys are wondering why we’ve beaten the bird feathers out of Miss Knight. Earlier in the show, we stuffed Mario in an Uber that I had driven to Bolivia… but I’m sure even Mario’s fan could agree that he deserved it… But Alice? She’s never done anything wrong, right?
~The crowd boos loudly. The camera zooms in on Alice, who has opened her eyes, but stares to the arena ceiling in shock.~
Aidan Collins: Well, you know, you’re actually right! She didn’t really deserve this at all! Hahaha! This was entirely unprovoked!
~Now the crowd boos super loudly. Aidan chuckles as Big Bifford yells at the crowd that he was just doing what he needed to meet Stan Lee.~
Aidan Collins: But hey, you know that I’m the New Face of OCW and I’m here to play for keeps. If giving Alice Knight yet another concussion is what it takes in order to make sure I win Death March, so be it! Mario’s locked in a trunk, I’ve got a monster as a partner… there’s no one to stop me from what’s about to happen! Bifford, pick Betty Boop over here up. I feel like practicing my right hook!
~Aidan pats Bifford on the back, who goes over to Alice and picks her up. Once grabbing her from the mat, Bifford puts her in a full nelson. Aidan arches back, about to hit Alice…~
~The lights all across the arena go out. It is a complete black out.
Smith: I don’t know what is going on, but it seems as if Aidan and Bifford are about to scramble Alice’s brains, but the lights just went out.
Hood: What is this? I was about to see Alice taken out for good and now I can’t see a damn thing. I’m missing this brutal beat down.
~Suddenly, the stage and tron erupt in blue light as long lost, but still familiar name flashes over the tron~
Smith: OH MY GOD! IT CAN’T BE!
Hood: No! God No! Alice Knight was enough. We don’t need THIS! Please, God. Not her. She’s worse than Alice.
Smith: Well ...she is a good friend of Alice, who Aidan has been trying to take out for weeks now. Did anyone really think she would stand by and just watch that happen?
Hood: She took her ball and went home; turned her back on the company. And she chooses NOW to make amends?
Smith: No matter the reason, it looks like we are seeing the return of someone who had a hell of a run while she was here. Former Central Champion, never got pinned, lead a clean sweep in the Total Demolition War Games match ...AND SHE IS HERE!
~As her tron plays, the five years absent Brianna Casablancas busts out from behind the curtain with a steel chair in one hand and a paperweight of a hardcover book in her other hand. In the ring, Aidan and Bifford look at the entryway. They both do not know who this person is, but they know that they’ll have to fend whoever this newcomer is. While they don’t know Casablancas, the fans in attendance certainly do and are on their feet for her return.~
Smith: And there she is! Brianna Casablancas, a woman who made a hell of an impact here in OCW back in 2014. As Hood eluded to, she left due to contract issues, but it seems like her friendship with Alice is stronger than whatever problems she had with the regime in the past.
Hood: It’s been a beautiful five years without her and now that all ends just because she has decided to help a friend? Life is terrible.
~The newly returned Brianna Casablancas runs down the ramp way and slides into the ring. Bifford rushes at her, but the she nails him with the steel chair. Unfortunately, Aidan clubs her from behind and she stumbles forward, dropping her steel chair to the ground. He clubs her in the back once more as she stumbles forward. However, she spins around and nails him with her 2,000 page hardcover book. He falls backwards. She runs to the ropes, bounces off them and hits him hard with the book again. With Aidan down, she turns to the camera to show off the cover of her book. She mouths to the camera.
Brianna Casablancas: On sale now at book retailers, Amazon kindle, and audible.
Hood: What the fuck she is doing now?
Smith: Apparently she has taken this opportunity to promote her new book “Paper Champion, Paper Man: A Case Study of The Incredible One.”
Hood: Never put it past Brianna to throw shade at TIO ...or self-promote herself. Also, look at how big that thing is. Did she really write that many pages about the mental state of one man?
Smith: Brianna has always had a lot of thoughts.
Hood: All them meaningless. Remember, this is the idiot who gave away her first big title to the man she just defeated. Whatever she has to say is pointless.
~Unfortunately, Bifford has gotten back up and as she turns around, he kicks her square in the gut, forcing her to drop the book. He grabs her by the hair and is about to smash her into the turnbuckle ...BUT Alice Knight somehow back up to her feet and reams him with a swinging neckbreaker that releases his hold on Brianna. Brianna comes to as the two turn towards each other as the OCW fans who have been watching for years are cheering on the long awaited reunion between the former tag team partners. The two give each other a smile before they realize that their opponents are coming to~
Smith: And there it is. The reunion of Thought 4 Food, a short lived but impactful tag team in the history of OCW. It might have been years since they’ve seen each other, but Brianna and Alice have always had a very tight bond.
Hood: Because they are both bat shit insane.
Smith: That might be so, but they were both very successful here in OCW, both together and in singles.
~Bifford, back on his feet, charges at them, but they nail him with a tandem dropkick. Aidan tries his luck and charges at them, but Alice uses his momentum to throw him up over her head ...but as he is careening back down, Brianna nails him with a european uppercut that sends him hurtling to the mat. The fans chant “Thought 4 Food” as this happens. Aidan and Bifford both slide out of the ring, deciding to preserve themselves for the Death March match~
Smith: The two members of Team Aidan are choosing to live to fight another day here as their attempt to put Alice on the shelf for good have been foiled by the startling return of Brianna Casablancas.
Hood: Why can’t I just have nice things? I just wanted an OCW without people like Alice and Brianna running around.
Smith: Collins will have his chance to rid this company of two Hall of Famers at Death March.
Hood: So, you are saying there is saying there is still hope?
~As their attackers retreat up the rampway, Brianna and Alice turn toward each other. The two friends immediately give a strong embrace in the center of the ring, reunited after so many years. As they hug, Alice inappropriately smells Brianna’s hair. They then break before each taking a turnbuckle, Brianna holding up her book so the cameras can get a good shot of it.~
Smith: You have to wonder what this means for Team Marauko going into Death March.
Hood: What do you mean? Teaming up with Alice is one, but Mario would never in a million years do business with Brianna Casablancas.
Smith: Mario is a smart man. He might not exactly like Brianna, but she is certainly an asset.
Hood: How so?
Smith: Because both her and Alice have done this before. Sure, last week we were talking about how Team Rhodes COULD possibly clean sweep their match, but that could very well be speculation and hyperbole on our parts. We KNOW that both Alice and Brianna have clean sweeped in match like the one coming up at Death March ...and they did it in an OCW ring. And that was in a War Games match no less.
Hood: I still don’t think Mario will go for it.
Smith: I guess we’ll have to wait and see.
~Marcus Welsh sits at his desk, shuffling through some papers. Greg sits off to the side, watching a replay of Brianna’s startling return. Suddenly, somebody knocks on the door to the beat of ‘Baby Got Back’ before bursting into the room, uninvited. It’s Matt Meyhu’s agent, Ezra Rosenberg! Dressed in a suit, Ezra struts into the room, slamming the door behind him. Greg stands up but Welsh waves him off.~
Ezra Rosenberg: What up, Marky Mark! How you doing buddy?!
~Before Welsh can respond, Ezra continues talking. He moves further into the room.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Good to hear, good to hear. So listen, Matty sent me here on official business. He couldn’t make it tonight, you know how those champion types are, am I right? I’m right. I know I am!
~Welsh opens his mouth to speak again, but Ezra again doesn’t give him the chance to join in on the conversation. He sits down across from Welsh and puts his feet up on the desk.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Alright, enough with the pleasantries. So listen, last week, an offer was made to our favorite champion. Matty has the opportunity to join OGDA’s team for Death March. I know what you’re thinking. Same thing I’m thinking. That’s crazy! But is it that crazy though? Is it..?
~Ezra puts his hands behind his head and looks up at the ceiling as he briefly trails off in thought. Welsh doesn’t even attempt to speak this time, knowing full well what will happen if he does. He patiently waits for Ezra to continue on.~
Ezra Rosenberg: I can tell you’re deep in thought on this. Let me just point you in the right direction here: It’s not that crazy. If anybody can do it, Matty can. Right?! Right! I mean, come on, that guy can do anything. He’s my biggest star. He’s your biggest star!
~Ezra puts his feet down and grabs a mug off the desk, taking a sip.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Anyway, I just came here so we can make this official in person. A deal this big shouldn’t be made over the phone, you know? And besides, the two of us should probably decide what this means for the OCW title match. Do we reschedule? Do we make the Death March for the title? I mean, Syren obviously doesn’t have people clamoring to have him on their team, but we could probably wedge him in somewhere, right?
~Ezra places the mug back onto Welsh’s desk. Marcus calmly picks the mug up and drops it into a nearby trash can. He folds his hands and looks up at Ezra~
Marcus Welsh: What is this? Your best Zybala impression? I heard all that malarkey last week about the champ potentially accepting a spot on OGDA’s team. Never once did I think you would actually entertain such a notion. The OCW Title match at Death March is going to be the biggest match in company history. It’s going to draw the biggest gate in company history. It’s going to draw the biggest television audience in company history. It’s going to be a once in a lifetime clash. Now, why would we throw that away? I always took you for a businessman, Ezra. You understand money, finances. Why would you risk something this big over the suggestion made by a couple of clowns? Is the champ scared of Syren?
Ezra Rosenberg: Scared?! Don't make me laugh. Ha! Do you realize who you're talking about? He's the opposite of scared. He wants to take on more! Business is all I think about, Marky Mark. If Syren doesn't show up, where does that leave us? I haven't seen much of him since… the incident. This is job security.
Marcus Welsh: I wouldn’t worry about Syren. He’ll magically appear at some point, I’m sure. I just can’t risk the champ being involved in Death March. We cannot jeopardize this match. Besides, Death March is King Infinity’s showcase. Keep the champ where he belongs, in the OCW Championship match. Let him have a chance to prove to everyone he’s the best wrestler in company history up to this point.
~Ezra stands up, offended. He straightens his tie and heads for the door.~
Ezra Rosenberg: The champ will not be pleased! And if he isn’t happy, nobody is.
~Ezra swings the door open and starts to exit. He pauses in the doorway.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Hey, great catching up! Don’t be a stranger.
~Ezra exits the room, closing the door behind him~
Marcus Welsh: You know what I like about King Infinity, Greg?
Greg: His hair?
Marcus Welsh: He does have nice hair. But that’s not what I like about him. I like the fact that the man doesn’t have some whiny agent running around trying to alter my plans. Meyhu is the champ. He will face Syren to determine the best wrestler in OCW history. And, that will determine the man who will pass the torch to King Infinity…
~We hear the crowd go ‘ooohhh’ as Welsh sits back. His lack of concern over being so open about these plans is pretty surprising. Greg rewinds Brianna’s return to watch it again~
Smith: It seems Meyhu continues to fall out of favor with Welsh
Hood: It’s not so much falling out of favor. Welsh is just taking preemptive measures. He’s searched and found the future.
Smith: Why can’t Meyhu be the future?
Hood: Because he’s the present
Smith: What about Syren? Isn’t he the past? What if he beats the present? Would that then mean that the past is the future?
Hood: Shut the fuck up
Smith: Alright…it’s getting late, I do apologize.
~We cut to the parking garage area where Brianna Casablancas and Alice Knight hover over the trunk of the car Mario Marauko was stuffed into. Alice is picking the lock of the trunk while Brianna stands by with a sack that has the Olive Garden logo on it~
Alice Knight: Dammit! Why’d it have to be car trunks. It is his only weakness!
Brianna Casablancas: How is it coming along?
Alice Knight: Almost there, but if I slice my hand, you have to play Johnny Be Good for me at the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance.
~The hood finally pops open.~
Alice Knight: Got it!
~Mario pops out from the trunk, ready to deck whoever put him in there in the first place. He stops once he notices that it is Alice Knight. He pulls himself out of the trunk.~
Mario Marauko: Thanks, Alice. I thought I was going to be in there for…
~He stops right as he notices a cheerful and smiling Brianna standing next to her.~
Mario Marauko: What is she doing here?
Brianna Casablancas: I am here for the same reason you are. I am quite vexed from seeing another wannabe face of the company trying to injure my friend just to feed his own ego. In fact, I partially blame myself for all of the Ian Bishop, Sean Fuller, and Roach clones that are running around here these days. I left and there was no one there to point out their immature behavior. More importantly, there was no one to expose them. I left and eventually a friend got hurt because the inmates pretty much run the asylum.
~Mario looks her over and shakes his head. He turns to Alice.~
Mario Marauko: I don’t know about this.
Brianna Casablancas: You don’t know about what? Yes, you and I haven’t always been on the same page, but we’ve always respected eachother, love. You might have ran with underlings, but you and I both know that you were more nuanced than them. We also understand that the ideas of “face of the company” are outdated concepts pushed by men with agendas. I was once a face of the company. We come and go, but people like you and Alice are the back bone of this place. Now, you are going to war with another pretender to the throne. You don’t do that without me.
~Casablancas extends her hand to him. He thinks it over before shaking it.~
Mario Marauko: Fine. Welcome to the team.
~He then eyes the take out from Olive Garden that she is holding in her hand.~
Mario Marauko: What is with the food?
Brianna Casablancas: Consider it a symbol of partnership because when you are here, you are Family. Granted, it is the most mental incarnation of The Family ever, but it is what it is. And we are more like the Fast and Furious version of family rather than the Godfather version. Whatever it is, Team Collins better prepare for a war because he doesn’t walk out of Death March with his pride, dignity, or even his sense of entitlement. When we get done with him, he becomes just another insecure wanker trying to convince everyone he is special.
~Alice immediately grabs the bag of Olive Garden food and starts eating breadsticks as we fade to black.~