OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, April 1st 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Another Monday come and gone. The genesis of a new work week behind us. That first step in the weekly cycle achieved. A time to bask in the glow of advancement. Today wasn’t just any Monday, though…it was the start of a new month! 2019 is, like, a fourth of the way finished. If you’re twenty years old, that’s great news. If you’re older than twenty-one well, sorry. Anyway, we return home after another what-the-fuck-ever Monday. We are back in our sanctuary. The privacy of our home. The seclusion to watch, do, wear whatever we want. It’s the bonus of being independent. No hag or authority figure yelling at us to turn the TV down or demanding we watch hours on end of the DIY network. We’re feeling fairly accomplished…tomorrow seems to be an easy day so, what the hell, we grab a stout beer from the fridge and a bag of super salty pretzels to go along with it. Taking a seat within our worn in couch, we give life to the television screen. The OCW Logo flashes…followed by the HOTv image. A smooth transition from STARZ to HOTv. Always like seamless change. Upon popping the top to our beverage and savagely ripping the bag of pretzels open, we throw back a big sip of beer. A graphic pops up on the screen~
~The beer in our mouth is spat everywhere. The bag of pretzels are hurled against the wall. “WHAT THE FUCK!” we shout. The graphic disappears and is replaced by that nefarious smiling troll face~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre!! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always is Hood.
Hood: Who the fuck authorized that lame ass April Fools joke?
Smith: I…I don’t know.
Hood: Was it Zybala? Fucking ZYBALA
Smith: We apologize for that joke in poor and incredibly lame taste. Rest assured the ‘comedian’ behind it is being currently dealt with.
~We cut backstage where some guy is being savagely beaten by rubber hoses. We cut right back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: I don’t normally advocate unnecessary violence…but that beating is well deserved.
Hood: He’s lucky that’s all he’s getting. I’d kill the mother fucker. Bring back random murder!
Smith: No. Well, now that that’s out of the way…we’ve got a great lineup scheduled for you all this evening! Alice Knight and Vincent Langston, two of OCW’s biggest stars return to the ring.
Hood: Boring and…sweet, always been a fan of Vincent.
Smith: Robert Morbidus looks to get back on the winning track against OCW’s brightest young star, Evin Empire.
Hood: Rumor has it Morbidus is still reeling from the wooden cross he took to the head last week.
Smith: I’ve heard quite the opposite. Apparently crosses and other religious remedies against vampires were created by Bram Stoker. They aren’t, in fact, legitimate.
Hood: Nothing about vampires is fucking legitimate you idiot.
Smith: OCW legend Bob Grenier returns to singles action to face Tison Kalei…this is something of a tune up match before he steps into the ring next week in his first round, Block Party match
Hood: Go Bob!
Smith: The tag division continues to put on a show with three interesting match ups. We will see the debut of The Dirty Birds…The Dravers will take on The Pretty Committee and the highly impressive team of Pas De Deux look to continue their winning ways against Jason Kortare and Trav Morgan
Hood: When did tag wrestling become so fucking popular? People do realize singles competition is where it’s at, right?
Smith: Wrong! And, for the final portion of our in ring programming we will witness first round competition within the Scott Syren bracket. The top seeded Chad Vargas will take on Max Ironside.
Hood: If you like watching the crippled get maimed, tune in for that one!
Smith: 4CW Hall of Famer Bronx steps into an OCW ring to compete against a former OCW Champion, PerZag.
Hood: We’re under attack, Smith!
Smith: Right…speaking of outsiders stepping in…former CWF Champion The Shadow looks to upset OCW Hall of Famer The Incredible One!
Hood: All these champions from other places taking part in this Block Party tournament. We’ve come a long way, Smith.
Smith: Indeed we have…and, finally, in tonight’s main event…former Craze Champion Bester Freund looks to stave off the challenge of pro wrestling icon, James Raven.
Hood: Well, I’m hyped, I don’t know about you.
Smith: We’ll also hear from Matt Meyhu, the eMpire, OCW Champion Paul Paras and much, much more! So, sit back and enjoy another fun and turbulent Monday night with Online Championship Wrestling!
~An explosion resonates over the speakers in the OCW Arena, drawing the attention of the fans in the crowd as the lights drop to a low, dark red hue. The sounds of the explosion fade away into the distance, replaced by the distinct voice of Admiral Ackbar.~
IT’S A TRAP!
~As soon as the words are spoken, the eMpire Trap Remix of “The Imperial March” by John Williams begins to blast over the sound system, thudding bass and orchestral arrangements intertwined. The arena is washed over in loud, obnoxious boos as the The eMpire make their way out onto the stage, now with one new member in tow.~
Smith: And then there were four, ladies and gentlemen. Last week, Cecilworth M. Farthington made his debut on Monday Night Massacre, cheating to help Mario Maurako defeat his first round opponent and advance in the tournament for a shot at the OCW Championship.
Hood: Cheating? Hood, he was facing an actual vampire. How is being undead not cheating? Those fangs are a foreign object. He should have been disqualified! Cecilworth Farthington is basically Van Helsing and we should all be thankful he was there.
~Mike Best and Max Kael step down toward the ramp, sauntering toward the ring as Mario Maurako and Cecilworth Farthington follow closely in step. Each man is wearing a black eMpire t-shirt with the logo on the back, but each shirt says something different on the front. Mike Best wears a shirt that says “Cecilworth Farthington Is My Favorite Wrestler”, while Farthington wears one that says the same about Mike Best. Mario Maurako’s shirt says “Max Kael Is My Favorite Wrestler”, but Max’s also says “Max Kael Is My Favorite Wrestler”, with the added text “But Mario Maurako Is Pretty Good Too” in small text beneath it.~
Hood: See, Smith? This is why Mario was right to leave that dickhead Paul Paras behind. Did you ever see him wearing a t-shirt that says “Mario Marauko is my favorite wrestler”? No, because he only ever cared about HIMSELF.
Smith: Max Kael is literally wearing a shirt that says he’s his own favorite wrestler, but that Mario is pretty good too. We’re looking at the same shirts, Hood.
Hood: IT’S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS.
~Rolling under the ropes, Michael Best is the first in the ring-- he holds open the ropes, gesturing a small bow as one by the one, he lets the other members of the eMpire step into the ring. Max first, followed by Mario, and then Cecilworth Farthington. After the last time the eMpire made an entrance, Belvedere knows better, and immediately surrenders the microphone to Mike Best before scurrying out of the ring to avoid the usual trouble.~
Mike Best: The eMpire… is formed.
~Michael gestures toward the other three co-leaders of the faction standing before him in the ring. A small but troubling smile rests on the lips of Max Kael, his crooked teeth peeking out as he glances into the crowd. Mario Maurako looks proud, but smug, his hands on his hips. Cecilworth M. Farthington is also there, smiling like an idiot and very pleased to have joined his friends in Online Championship Wrestling.~
Mike Best: They say that Rome wasn’t built in a day, and over the last four weeks, the four men standing in this ring have come together to become the most terrifying force in the history of Online Championship Wrestling. We have come for your land, we have come for your glory, and now all roads lead to the championship. So allow me to ask you, Citizens of the eMpire… ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING NOW?
~He snarls the final words, the crowd latching on and showering the ring with boos. Michael doesn’t take the time to acknowledge them.~
Mike Best: Four very different men, with one very unified goal-- to be the most dominant force in the history of OCW, and to ascend Mario Maurako to his rightful place atop its throne. Four men. and each serves his purpose with undying fucking loyalty. I, am Michael Lee Best, and I am the unified voice of the eMpire. The man who brought it all together, the man who makes the plans sells the fucking tickets. We may have no leader, but I am The Mouthpiece of the eMpire.
~Michael takes a step back, looking over his stablemates with appreciation and respect as he takes a step toward Max Kael, looking him up and down before turning back to address the crowd.~
Mike Best: Max Kael. The maniacal preacher, spreading the Good Word and converting the non-believers by force. The tip of the spear, the unexpected onslaught of firepower and destruction that fractures our enemies and proves them… unworthy. Max Kael is the The Minister of the eMpire.
~Nodding in agreement, Max’s smile spreads wide as he wrings his hands together, always ready for war. A soft cackle escapes him, as Michael moves down the line, stopping at Cecilworth Farthington and shaking the hand of his longtime friend.~
Mike Best: Cecilworth M. Farthington. The aristocratic assassin. The glorious emperor of the almighty dollar. He is my favorite fucking wrestler on the planet. He is The Money of the eMpire, but do not make the mistake of assuming that he’s nothing but cash. His wallet is rivalled only by his talent, and I fucking dare you to take him lightly. He is the final cog in the eMpire, and it is with his arrival that we are complete.
~Farthington smiles, taking a crisp $100 bill and slipping it into Michael’s palm as they shake hands. Mike furrows his brow, shoveling the money back into Farthington’s hand and muttering that it isn’t the time. Cecilworth looks perplexed at the idea of someone not needing his money, but shrugs and tucks the money away.~
Mike Best: ...and then, we have The Mission.
~Taking a final step, Mike stands before Mario Maurako. Mario puts a hand on The Mouthpiece’s shoulder, as they share a bonding moment in the ring. The crowd is booing over top of it, trying to ruin the moment, but the two men embrace in a hug.~
Mike Best: Mario Maurako, The Mission. The reason we’re all here. Mario Maurako is the rightful OCW Champion-- a man held down for too long by the tyranny of Paul Paras. A man who has found his proper home, in the SINGLE GREATEST TEAM HE HAS EVER BEEN A PART OF. A team that has lead him to great success, with clean victories over every opponent he has faced since our formation. Clean victories, aided only by the moral support of the eMpire. And it is only right that here tonight, The Mission himself is allowed to give his… mission statement.
~Michael lowers the microphone, amidst the sea of boos over the exaggerated recounting of Mario’s recent history. He presents the microphone to Mario, bowing his head to The Mission as Mario takes it from his hands with appreciative acceptance. He raises the microphone to his lips, eager to address all of OCW. Before he can, however, “It Doesn’t Seem to Matter” by Army of Anyone blasts over the arena speakers, sending the OCW faithful into a frenzy!~
Smith: OH MY GOD!! Is he here? We haven’t seen him for weeks!
Hood: No! Don’t tell me he’s going to steal Mario’s spotlight again!!
Smith: YES! HE’S HERE!
~Mario’s eyes shoot a death glare at the stage while the other eMpire members yell amongst each other in disbelief. From backstage emerges the OCW WORLD CHAMPION, PAUL PARAS as the OCW arena goes ballistic!! Paras confidently saunters out in dark blue jeans, his black retro bomber jacket, and a royal blue t-shirt that simply reads “MY FIGHT. MY TITLE. MY WORLD.” The OCW Title belt rests across his shoulder as he surveys the crowd from behind his sunglasses. Paras produces a microphone from his jacket as his music fades away, the sound of the crowd reverberating around him.~
Smith: Hood, the World Champion is back! He went through an absolute war against Vincent Langston in what most are calling the greatest chain match of all time at Social Justice, only to suffer a brutal beating by this turncoat scum Maurako and his eMpire hitmen!
Hood: Keep your panties on, Smith. And don’t get them in a bundle either! Mike Best has been waiting for his chance to stick it to Paras again for almost a decade, and he showed that he still can take down the so-called “greatest wrestler on the planet” whenever he wants.
Smith: You’re going to sit there and defend their actions? What about Mario? He and Paras have been best friends since they were children!
Hood: Brothers kick each other’s asses, and Mario’s been waiting to do that for 40-plus years to his supposed best friend. You remember what he and Minister Kael did to Cyanide, didn’t you?
Smith: Unfortunately! Absolutely vile actions by a man who we all thought had some sort of honor and decency.
Hood: Decency? His family is basically the mafia!
Smith: In any event… the Zen Master, our World Champion, is back to settle the score!
Hood: Pfft, right. There’s four men in that ring! And Paras’ only other friend is on life support!
~Paras lifts the microphone, speaking in his usual tranquil, Zen-filled manner as he stares down the eMpire from the ramp.~
Paul Paras: You know, two weeks away from this place really makes a man remember what’s important in his life. He has time to heal, time to meditate, and time to realign his chakras so that the planes of his existence extend beyond the stars themselves… but the core remains strong as ever. Despite constant interference in my airwaves, this man has had time to come to terms with what happened at Social Justice, and I thought, rather than sit back and observe… why not actively participate in the fallout?
~The crowd cheers as Paras calmly removes his sunglasses, his eyes still locked on the eMpire in the ring. His nonchalant smile is rejoined by the microphone.~
Paul Paras: Now, I am not a man who is haunted by his past. In fact, it constantly motivates me and forces me to be better at what I do. But based on what I’m seeing in that ring and what all of you people have been forced to endure the past two weeks, it seems my past has decided to take a front row seat in my present. When I look in that ring, I see jealousy. I see bitterness. I see contempt at the very idea that Paul Paras, right now, in 2019, age 44 and still kicking all the ass, is your OCW World Champion.
~Maurako leans against the ropes, shaking his head at Paras and screaming out “Not for long!” Farthington pats him on the back to calm him down.~
Paul Paras: I see you. And I see what you’ve become. And when I think of my brother, Steve MacKinnon, better known to you all as Silver Cyanide…
~He pauses for a pop from the crowd.~
Paul Paras: …lying in a hospital bed, the possibility of walking again in question, let alone wrestling again… I see what I must do. I see that, as World Champion… and as a man making change in this world with the only life I’ve got, I need to put a final expiration date on my past. That… starts with you. And it starts now.
~Paras calmly motions toward the ring before suddenly breaking into a stride toward it, causing the fans to go wild and Mario and the eMpire to yell at Paras to bring it on!~
Hood: Is Paras insane? You have a ring full of some of the biggest ass kickers in wrestling, but this spaced-out nutcase is going to march right in?
Smith: Paras has never lacked confidence, but there’s no way he’s 100% after Social Justice.
Hood: Someone call the hospital in San Francisco. Paul can get a bed next to his buddy Cyanide and see his twelve wives!
Smith: Well, ex-wives now.
Hood: That’s fine; he’s going to be an ex-person after Mario and the eMpire are done with him!
~Maurako is waiting, seething, as he watches Paras coolly step up the steel stairs and to the apron. Mario glares and looks ready to thrown down with the man he’s known since he was three years old as the World Champion steps through the ropes and confidently marches toward Maurako…~
Smith: Here we go!!!
~…then continues right past him without so much as giving him a look, instead stopping face-to-face with MIKE BEST. The fans erupt, eager to see the two old HOW mainstays clash for the first time since 2010! Maurako, flabbergasted, looks back and forth from Paras to the outside of the ring as if there has been a mistake. Max and Cecilworth try their best to play shortstop for both of their allies in case things get out of control, watching Paras like tigers ready to pounce. Best has a disconcerted glower at this turn of events, but quickly laughs under his breath to regain his wits as the Minnesota Messiah measures him up and brings the microphone back from his jacket.~
Paul Paras: It starts with you, Michael. I see you. I hear you. And yet, I have trouble believing you’re actually here in this ring. I don’t imagine you’re a figment of my imagination. I doubt you’re a ghost, as all the spirits I’ve wined and dined with over the years have known better than to pick a fight with Paul Paras. No, Michael, it seems that somehow, the universe has brought you here, to OCW, along with Max Kael himself, the one and only Prime Minister of Maxopotamia …
~Kael takes a deep bow, unsure if Paras is making fun of him and not particularly caring either way. Mario continues to seethe in the corner, now burying his head on the turnbuckle pad to contain himself from being ignored.~
Paul Paras: …which can only mean one thing-- Cyanide was right. Mario Maurako, my best friend of over 40 years, didn’t know what he was getting himself into and was going to end up dead, and Cyanide tried to stop it from happening. My eyes were covered by scales at the Lord’s hands, but now I see clear as an autumn day—you, Mike Best, are the one to blame for all of this.
~Best gains a smug assholish grin. Paras, despite this accusation, appears enlightened, rather than irate.~
Paul Paras: I see, Michael, how your appearance on the rooftop of Social Justice wasn’t just happenstance—it was fate. You needed to appear in OCW so you could revisit the one flaw in your diamond HOW career—the fact that you couldn’t kill off Paul Paras. No matter how hard you tried, prayed, and begged to daddy. You could take my title, erase my records, and book me against the entire roster at once, but every single time, I survived. So now, you’ve managed to manipulate my best friend into joining your band of ignoramuses under the pretense that you’ll help him check off his last bucket list item—that you’ll help him win this...
~Paras holds up the OCW World Title, the fans half cheering and half booing Mike’s apparent manipulation of Maurako. Best looks up at the title with an unreadable expression, as do Max and Farthington.~
Paul Paras: The funny thing is, in some cosmic way, you’re right. Mario hasn’t won the OCW Title yet, despite being a two-time Hall of Famer and one of the best wrestlers this company or any other has ever seen. He hasn’t…
~Paras finally turns to Maurako, who doesn’t lift his head off the turnbuckle pad.~
Paul Paras: …and sorry to say, brother, but you’re not going to now either. Because in order to win this, you have to beat me. And if you’re going to blindly follow wandering dark matter like Mike and Max, your star is doomed to burn out before you’re ever ready to be on top of this universe.
~Paul, unsure if he’s getting through to Mario, turns back to Best.~
Paul Paras: So Michael, if you’re so intent on ending me, why don’t we…
~Before Paras can finish his thought, he is BLASTED from behind by a clothesline from MARIO MAURAKO! Paras collapses in a heap, holding the back of his neck as the fans begin to rain down boos upon the former Marvelous One.~
Smith: NO! Maurako just laid out his best friend again!
Hood: I knew it! I knew it was only a matter of time before Mario wised up!
Smith: Ugh. I thought maybe Mario might hear what Paul was saying.
Hood: Maurako’s no blind follower. He’s his own man, and he’s about to take out his biggest blind spot all these years.
~Maurako reaches down to pull Paras up by the back of his neck as Mike, Max, and Farthington laugh and enjoy the show. Mario holds Paras by the back of his head and screams trash talk into his ear, the fans lambasting Maurako with boos and profanity. Maurako spins Paras around and hooks him for Simply Marvelous!!~
Smith: Oh come on, not this! That’s your friend, Mario!
~Max gives Mario a thumbs-up as Maurako lifts Paras into the air… but Paras KNEES Maurako in the face on the way up, staggering him back into the turnbuckle!~
Smith: The World Champion is alive!! These fans are electric!!
~Paras, as if sensing Cecilworth behind him, spins and delivers a massive forearm smash to the newest eMpire member, then follows it up with another jumping knee smash to the good eye of Max Kael, sending the Minister floundering out of the ring!!! Mike Best sighs loudly as if to say “Do I have to do everything myself?” and rushes toward Paras, but Paul drops to his knees and sweeps Mike’s legs out from under him, causing Best to land with a thud. Best struggles to his feet but doesn’t see Paras rearing back with his boot, ready to attack.~
Smith: And Mike Best is about to have fond memories of the ACID TEST!
Hood: MIKE!!! WATCH OUT FOR THE KICK!!!
~Paras charges at Best… but is intercepted by Maurako with a CRACK of the OCW World Title Belt to Paul’s skull!!! Paras goes down like he was shot!! The crowd resumes their hatred for Mario as he reaches down a hand to help Best back up to his feet. Max and Cecilworth have now recovered as well as all four men begin to loudly stomp away at the World Champion, who can only writhe in pain under the barrage of boots and the jeers from the fans urging them to stop.~
Smith: This is a mugging, Hood. A straight-up mugging! Get some security out here!
Hood: Paras can fight with the best of them, but all the yoga in the world won’t save him from the might of the eMpire!! Get him! Stomp him! Justice for Mario!
~Suddenly, “I Am Legend” by Colton Dixon echoes throughout the OCW Arena as the surprised fans look toward the entranceway. The eMpire doesn’t stop their beatdown of Paras right away but are soon clued in by the fact that the fans have oddly stopped booing. The sound of a rattling chain is picked up by a microphone when “THE LEGEND” VINCENT LANGSTON emerges from the back, a huge metal chain wrapped across his shoulders and arm. He eyes the ring, the fans giving him a more positive reaction than he’s used to.~
Hood: What is Langston doing out here? Is he joining the eMpire too?!
Smith: Look Hood! That’s got to be the same chain from Langston’s match with Paras at Social Justice!! Langston has it strapped to his wrist! That brutal chain made both men bleed buckets and nearly caused permanent damage to Langston’s shoulder!
~Langston snarls at the scene in the ring and, without warning, runs full-speed down the ramp! He slides into the ring with a fury and WHIPS Mike Best with the chain across his back, the loud smack of metal on skin and bone getting a huge cheer from the fans!~
Hood: What the hell is he doing?!? Get security out here!! This man is a maniac!
~Maurako turns toward Langston, ready to fight, but The Legend lashes out with a chain shot to Maurako’s ribs, causing the big man to double over in pain! Langston turns to Max and Farthington, with Kael looking to Cecilworth for help, but the socialite has already quietly bailed from the ring and is walking away. Max turns back to Langston in a pouty huff and gets SMASHED in the face with the steel chain, flipping Kael clear out of the ring and to the floor!! Max lands on his feet and stumbles after Farthington, holding his eye in pain as Maurako and Best also dodge out of the ring, Langston viciously swinging the chain around like a madman. The eMpire rush to the ramp to regroup, staring back at the armed former soldier.~
Smith: Langston getting a little revenge on the eMpire for Social Justice!
Hood: But now he’s in the ring with the guy who nearly tore his shoulder apart! This night is about to go from bad to worse for Paras.
~Langston stops his chain swinging to glare at the retreating eMpire then back at the World Champion who is slowly getting back to his feet. Paras looks up, wiping the sweat from his face and clutching his ribs, to see Langston looking down at him. The Legend glances back at the eMpire, nodding his head in their direction. Langston reaches back with the chain… and lets it drop over his shoulder, extending the hand with the chain latched around its wrist toward Paras as the crowd pops!~
Smith: Wait a minute, Hood. Langston said a few weeks ago that Paras gained his respect as a fighter. Do you think this could be a truce? Or even an alliance?
~The crowd begins the ever-popular “YES! YES! YES!” chant as Paras looks up at the extended hand. Paul looks away for a moment, getting a few concerned boos from the crowd and a raised eyebrow from Langston. Paras, still clutching his ribs, reaches over and collects his World Title belt from the mat, placing it over his shoulder, and taking a deep breath. He THEN clutches The Legend’s hand and his helped up to his feet, maintaining a handshake as the fans explode into cheers!!~
Smith: THERE IT IS, Hood! Two indomitable fighters in a show of respect, fighting off the eMpire!! This is incredible!
Hood: This is AWFUL! These two don’t know when to stop fighting and are damn good at it, I’ll admit. They’re going to make the eMpire’s mission even harder! But whatever! They’re making a death wish if they think they’re going to stop all four of them… and who knows? Maybe we’ll get even more members in the weeks to come! I can’t wait!
Smith: Taking out the insurgent eMpire might prove a monumental task, but if anyone can do it, the smart money is on Paras and Langston.
~The eMpire looks disgusted at the handshake in the ring and continue their retreat up the ramp. Paras and Langston break the handshake and both turn toward the eMpire, Langston wrapping the chain around his fist and threatening the group with it, Paras flashing his trademark smirk and raising the World Title belt into the air as Massacre cuts to commercial.~
~We cut to EARLIER IN THE DAY. We’re back in the parking lot. Alice’s BUMTOURAGE has grown in quantity and, somehow, lessened in quality. The familiar sports car belonging to Welsh pulls into it’s usual parking spot. This all feels so very familiar. Welsh is, in fact, listening to I’M TOO SEXY once again. He steps out, wearing what appears to be the exact same attire. Greg, too, is dressed in identical fashion. They shut their doors and head toward the arena. Welsh pauses~
Bumtourage: ZYBALA! ZYBALA!
~Welsh’s jaw tightens. His head slowly moves to its right. He slides a pair of expensive shades down the bridge of his nose, pointing two eyes that resembles daggers in the direction of what can only be referred to as AliceLand~
Marcus Welsh: I’ve had just about enough of this, Greggers.
Greg: Oh Marcus, let them have their fun.
Marcus Welsh: They are a shitstain on an otherwise pristine organization, Greg. They stand out here with few teeth, chanting the name of the worst GM in sports history while waiting for some disgusting form of mustard to be released. No, Greg…I think it’s time we put an end to this tomfoolery once and for all!
~Greg sighs, following Welsh over to the Bumtourage~
Marcus Welsh: HEY BUMS! LISTEN UP!
~The bums stop chanting Zybala and turn toward Welsh. They look at him with curiosity consumed faces. Welsh finds a box to stand on, putting his height above everyone else. He looks down at the bums and their emaciated frames~
Marcus Welsh: Alright…you all look real fucking hungry. I’ve been parking in that same position at the same time for the past three weeks. I have yet to see ANY of you eat. So, am I right to assume you’re all starving?
Bumtourage: RELEASE THE MUSTARD! RELEASE THE MUSTARD!
Marcus Welsh: Forget about the stupid mustard! It’s only a condiment!
~The door to Alice’s trailer flies open. The bumtourage goes wild!~
Marcus Welsh: Damnit! Get back in your trailer SLASH RV, Alice! This doesn’t concern you!
Alice Knight: Everything about mustard concerns me! My homeless friends…I have some news concerning the mustard.
~Welsh looks at Greg as if to say “this is fucking stupid.” Greg, however, seems intrigued. The bumtourage quietly…in an almost united whisper, chant “release the mustard…release the mustard…”~
Alice Knight: The mustard is ALMOST ready to be released!
Bumtourage: YAY!!!
Marcus Welsh: What does ‘almost’ mean?
Alice Knight: Oh, hi Welsh!
~Welsh grumbles about Alice being blind and possibly stupid~
Alice Knight: My special mustard takes time. It is almost ready. Sadly, however, it will not be ready tonight. The mustard will NOT be released tonight.
~The bumtourage is disappointed. They lower their heads and stop chanting. Welsh sees an opportunity~
Marcus Welsh: Pick those heads up you filthy bums! I’ve got a solution!
~Welsh pulls out his cellphone and sends out a text. While doing so, the box he’s standing on begins to move~
Marcus Welsh: What the fuck?!
~He hops off and watches the box carried away by ants~
Marcus Welsh: Fucking ridiculous.
~A loud “BEEP! BEEP!” is heard. A giant 18 wheeler backs up. The back door opens and a bunch of FOOD is seen and smelled from inside~
Marcus Welsh: Forget the mustard, filthy bums! I’ve got piping hot, semi fresh food for you all to enjoy! Please, head that way and eat as much as your stomachs can hold!
~The bums all “HOOT” and rush for the food. Alice looks around like “hmm”. The bumtourage all run into the back of the 18 wheeler. After the final bum stumbles in, Welsh sends another text. The back door is pulled down and locked shut. The 18 wheeler speeds away. Alice looks at Welsh~
Marcus Welsh: Sorry, Alice. But I had to get rid of those fucking bums. Now, enough with this mustard and Zybala nonsense. Get ready for your match with Depth. Thank you very much.
~Welsh, feeling very proud of himself, heads toward the Arena entrance. Greg is overheard asking “Where are they taking the homeless?” Welsh callously replies, “Who fucking cares”~
Smith: Well, that was uncalled for.
Hood: Welsh continuing to clean this place up. I'm all for it! Not to mention his tireless efforts to prevent the RELEASE of Alice's Mustard.
Smith: Why are you so joyless?
Hood: I'm not fucking joyless. I just can't stand that vile woman and her sickening owls, ants, cats AND MUSTARD. How many more innocuous items must she poison?
Smith: Alice is a treasure and we should treat her as such and...speaking of said treasure...I hear we may have something going on backstage featuring OCW's very own OWL IS NIGHT!
Hood: Suicide has never sounded so sweet
~The twins are backstage just relaxing before their match with the Pretty Committee when the twins then hear a knock at their locker room door~
Jonathan: Yeah?
Woman's Voice: It's the police... we have a warrant for your um, uh, arrest... come out quietly or there will be trouble... trouble... double trouble...
Nathan: Huh?
~Jonathan opens their locker room door. To see someone holding a giant gift basket. The person reveals herself to be Alice Knight. She stands there holding the basket with a huge smile. The Dravers' also smiling approach Alice~
Alice: Hope I didn't scare you with that whole Police officer gimmick. I thought it be funny to pull a goof. I'm a goofer, I am. Goof'n it up! Here's a little basket I meant to give you guys earlier. It has everything from my home made mustard packets, some cucumbers and some brownies I made. Don't worry, no marijuana in them... haha.
Nathan: Thanks, Alice. Awesome to see you're still around here in the OCW.
Alice: What doesn't kill you only makes you 'un-kill-able', right? Just wanted to stop by and say hi. Again, been meaning to for awhile. Just been crazy busy with this whole homeless protest against Marcus Welsh... how have you boys been?
Jonathan: Er… Alice I don't think that's the phrase. But uh... yeah about that...what is going on with that?
Nathan: We're good though, Alex was asking about you the other day. Brownies though!
~The twins look at the mustard~
Jonathan: Alice, what's in this?
Alice: In the mustard? That's my family's secret recipe, boys! But trust me, throw it on a hotdog, hamburger or just plain white bread and you'll feel it alright. It's spicy, tangy and well... mustardy. Like the jar says, "It doesn't have to taste like Mustard to BE mustard!" Ya know? But the brownies are legit too. Store bought, but still good eating. Anyway, I don't want to keep you from whatever you are doing. Just thought I'd stop by and say a quick Hello! Hello! HELLLLLLLLOOOOOO!!!
~Alice says a hello a couple more times to the confusion and delight of the Dravers~
Jonathan: We'll see you later, Alice. Good luck against Depth.
~Jonathan shakes his head smiling...we cut to an advertisement~
Hood: GET THAT SHIT OFF THE SCREEN!
Smith: What? Why are you begrudging an entrepreneur?
Hood: She's going to KILL people with that shit! She's terrible! She's horrible...she's like the black plague, only in bisque coloring. SHE'S THE BISQUE PLAGUE!
Smith: You need to calm down...breathe in and out, just relax.
Hood: Yea, you're right...getting too old to get that upset. She just triggers me, man. Can't stand that woman. So, what's up next?
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Hood: FUCKING HELL!
Singles Match
Alice Knight (13-5) vs. John E Depth (1-3)
~The crowd is HOT. It’s time for the in-ring action to begin. The fans are chanting “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” It’s clear they know who’s scheduled to kick things off. John E Depth is already in the ring. He looks around and chants “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” along with the fans. Belvedere cracks a rare smile before clearing his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…John E Depth!
~Depth flaps his wings and lets out a “CA-CAW!” The fans BOOOOOOOO. He’s nonplussed, looking around like “Why are you booing me?”~
Smith: Wrong bird, Depth.
Hood: What an idiot!
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~”Electrified" by Dressy Bessy hits and the place goes fucking wild!! You’d think Chad Vargas just walked into a KKK rally. This place is BANANAS. An arena wide “HOOOOOOT” is released. Alice appears doing the Ric Flair strut while flapping her wings. “HOOT! HOOT! HOOT!” sounds out. Alice struts down the ramp~
Belvedere: From Bethel, New York…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former OCW Champion and a member of the OCW Hall of Fame…she is…ALICE KNIGHT!!
~Alice slides into the ring and pops to her feet. Belvedere moves to exit. Before he can, Depth grabs the mic. Belvedere is a bit annoyed, but he exits anyway. Depth begins to speak~
John E Depth: Hello, Alice.
~Alice looks around. This isn’t how a normal match starts. The fans are still hooting and chanting OWL IS NIGHT. Alice responds with a ‘hi’~
John E Depth: I know the question has been asked. People around the world want to know…they are dying to know…when, exactly will you…RELEASE THE MUSTARD?
~The crowd pops! A “RELEASE THAT MUSTARD!” chant starts. A few people with tiny mustard packets open them up and squirt the mustard all over their face and neck while doing some type of weird owl dance~
Smith: RELEASE THE MUSTARD
Hood: What the fuck is this shit.
John E Depth: But why mustard? Why MUSTARD?
~The crowd BOOOS. ‘RELEASE THAT MUSTARD!’ is chanted again. Alice frowns…it’s apparent she loves her mustard~
Smith: Who cares why? We just want to know when…when will the mustard be released?!
Hood: Hopefully NEVER…you ever heard of Chernobyl?
John E Depth: I say instead of releasing the mustard…we head to the back and release…THE MAYO
~Depth raises both eye brows in a not-so-seductive manner. The crowd BOOOOS. Alice leans back…she’s not really offended, more so surprised~
Smith: What a pig! That’s disgusting! Get that man out of my sight!
Hood: Oh calm down, he’s merely talking recipes, Smith. He likes to release mayo, what’s wrong with that?
Smith: It’s disgusting and you know it!
~Alice nods, acting as though she’s considering the release of some MAYO. She reaches out. Depth extends his arms like “LET’S DO THIS!” He tosses the mic over his shoulder, it lands on the outside of the ring with a loud THUD. Alice steps in closer and DRILLS Depth in the gut with a knee! The fans go wild!! Alice double underhooks Depths’ arms and drops him with THE APACHE!!! The bell rings and the crowd goes wild!! Alice covers Depth! We get a loud MUSTARD chant~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings!~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: She did it! Yes! She vanquished that deplorable depth!
Hood: Say his name with a capital D, you dick!
Smith: NEVER! After what he said today…said right in the face of OCW’s heart and soul…NEVER
Hood: Ugh, if she’s our heart and soul then we are most definitely going to hell.
Smith: Alice Knight looking great as usual…now, the question remains…WHEN WILL THE MUSTARD RELEASE?
Hood: HOPEFULLY NEVER…NEVER EVER
~Alice raises his her hands in triumph. The lights begin to flicker~
Smith: Oh no... Not again... Not to Alice...
Hood: I have no objection...
~The lights cut out completely. On the OCWtron, the Hooded Figure, known by some as the Jager Bomber, appears~
Jager Bomber: If you played a part... You will suffer... Feel my wrath!
~The OCWtron cuts off. A moment later, the lights come back on in the arena. Alice Knight lays in the middle of the ring, covered in Jagermeister with shards of the Jager bottle shattered around her~
Smith: Oh my God! Alice Knight is the latest victim of this Jager Bomber!
Hood: Again, I have no comment. She probably had it coming.
~The cameras cut to the VIP parking garage at the OCW arena where a fully blacked out Cadillac limousine is seen pulling up to the back doors. The driver steps out, walks around the front of the car and makes his way to the back of the passenger's side. As he opens the door, the cameras swing around to catch Mia Valentine exiting the limo, looking as stunning as ever. Following her are the rest of the Sex Symbol Syndicate; Trav Morgan, Evin Empire and Jason Kortare, all dressed in designer gear and looking like they could hit the town at a moment's notice~
EVIN: Hey Jeeves, park the car and bring our bags to the locker room. My bong's in mine, so be extra careful with it. If you break my glass, I break your ass!
JEEVES: Understood, sir, but my name isn't Jeeves, it's-
EVIN: NOW PLEASE!
TRAV: Yeah, Jeeves, get with the program! Oh, and hey...that's my EXPENSIVE body oil in there, which means that every drop of it you spill will be a drop of blood I draw from you to replace it!
EVIN: HAHA! That's a bit drastic, don't you think? I know I threatened him too, but mine was more flippant where as yours was, well...demented serial killer style...
TRAV: Hey, sounds to me like some people just value their possessions a little more than others...
~The driver pauses a moment with a look of confusion before heading back around the car and getting back into the driver's seat~
MIA: Okay, boys, this is it...it's game time. I hope you all know what it would mean for The Syndicate if everything goes as planned tonight and we come away with a pair of convincing victories. If you do, then you also know how devastating the consequences would be if you three are unable to get your jobs done tonight..
JASON: Hey, nobody in The Syndicate will be doing any "jobs" tonight, trust me on that!
TRAV: HA! Good one, Jase!
MIA: Guys, I'm serious! This is a very important time for us and we can't afford to make and silly mistakes or take anything for granted. We need to build the reputation of being sharp and calculated, no matter how good the situation may look and no matter how over-matched your opponents may be. I have faith in you guys, I know you three could beat any member of the OCW roster on any given night...I just want to make sure you live up to your potential.
~Evin stops and puts his hand on Mia's shoulder~
EVIN: Mia, babe, you need to lighten up...you're starting to kill my buzz. I know you mean well, and I for one appreciate the rousing pep talk...really, I do...but there comes a time when the motivational speaker can't say any more, and the person listening has to go out and do it themselves. There comes a time when the coach has said everything he...or she...can say and all they can do is watch from the sidelines. That time has come for you. We are prime-time players, sweetie...we are impact performers. We do our best work when the cameras are rolling, the eyes are watching, and the lights are on bright...so grab a drink, sit back, and enjoy the show!
MIA: I hope I WILL enjoy it, Evin...
~The three boys continue walking toward their locker room as Mia stands watching momentarily, her lips pursed and her arms crossed~
MIA: I hope I will.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Three incredible in ring talents, Hood
Hood: No shit, man. That's a future main event clique if I ever saw one.
Smith: Evin Empire, Trav Morgan, and Jason Kortare are everything a promotion like OCW would love to build around. However, they must prove it inside the ring.
Hood: I think Evin's doing a pretty good job of that.
Smith: Well, we'll see...he faces one of his toughest tasks later this evening against Morbidus. As for Kortare and Morgan, well, they enter the tag team fray against Pas De Deux
Hood: What about Mia?
Smith: Well, Mia is...well, she's attractive.
Hood: You just killed the MeToo movement, man!
Smith: I did not! Anyway, fans...it's time for our second match this evening as Vincent Langston returns to the ring. If you'll remember, the last time we saw Vincent Langston he came up just short in a Russian Strap Match against Paul Paras at Social Justice. It was a tough loss for the Savage Champion
Hood: Yea but the last time Langston lost in painful fashion he rebounded to defeat King Infinity.
Smith: Indeed. Langston lost a tough one at Death March only to show up at Throwback and derail King Infinity's ascension. Now begins a new journey for Langston as he looks to continue his climb to the top of the OCW mountain.
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Singles Match
Vincent “The Legend” Langston © (22-3) vs. Shootah (0-3)
~The fans settle back in as Belvedere has made his way through the ropes.~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, the next match is scheduled for one fall! Already standing in the ring, here is SHOOTAH!!
~The crowd give a small cheer for the long-time loser as Shootah does a nervous nod and even a slight pose. He then walks away to his corner, closing his eyes and trying to focus himself.~
Smith: Back in October of last year, Shootah had the misfortune of wanting a sandwich when Vincent Langston was on a rampage.
Hood: I remember that. Langston beat Shootah unconscious with a baseball bat, didn't he?
Smith: Not one of Shootah's finest moments. But tonight is his chance at some redemption.
Hood: Shootah's fucked, we all know that...but, at least Langston was nice enough to leave the chain in the back.
Smith: Small victories, I suppose.
Hood: You think if Shootah injures Langston *stifles laughter* you think if he does that then he might earn a spot in the eMpire?
Smith: No.
Hood: Why? Because of the lack of M? Dude, I've got it figured...he can go from Shootah to shooteM!
Smith: Stop talking
Belvedere: And his opponent...
~ "I Am Legend" echoes through the arena, followed by the build-up of the music. The claps and heavy beat are joined by lasers and flashing lights as the music blasts out.~
Belvedere: Weighing in at 230 lbs, from Washington D.C., this is the OCW Savage Champion, Vincent "The Legend" Langston!!
~Langston walks out on the stage, a stoic look on his face as he walks towards the ring. He jumps over the ropes, lands in the ring, and lets out a loud yell to the crowd, before turning back to his corner.~
Smith: It seems like lately Langston has turned a corner in his life, since coming up short against the World Champion. He seems to have a clearer mind.
Hood: I don't like it.
Smith: What's not to like?
Hood: The guy became Savage Champion and did so much here in OCW thanks to that sadistic side of his. We need to get Langston back to breaking people in two because they gave him ketchup instead of honey mustard at Chick-fil-A!
Smith: You're still mad about that, aren't you?
Hood: Sons of bitches...
~The bell rings, and Scruff signals for the men to begin. Shootah has continued to psyche himself up in the corner, and finally turns around. He is doing his best to look motivated, as he pounds on his chest a few times. He appears to regret that almost instantly, but shakes it off.~
Smith: Let's see what Shootah can do, in his first official fight with Langston.
Hood: Maybe he can last eight seconds, like a bull rider.
Smith: You can do it, Shootah!
~Langston bounces backwards on the ropes, studying Shootah, who is breathing harder and harder as he energizes himself. Shootah points at Langston, earning the universal "You!" chant from the crowd, and then steps forward... only to immediately fall flat on his face. Langston, looking down at him, is speechless, as is Scruff.~
Smith: What the... did Shootah trip?
Hood: Nope, I think the damn fool hyperventilated himself. Either that or he just fainted. What a joke.
Smith: He doesn't appear to be moving.
~Langston talks to Scruff for a few seconds, shaking his head. Scruff shrugs his shoulders and points over at the timekeeper, who already rang the bell to start the match. Langston, looking extremely disappointed, steps forward and rolls Scruff over. He slaps Shootah lightly on the side of the face, but there's no response. With a frustrated sigh, Langston puts his hand on Shootah's chest, and Scruff obediently makes the count.~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings as Langston stands back up. The ref goes to raise his arm, but Langston just pulls away, wanting no part of it.~
Belvedere: Your winner... VINCENT LANGSTON!!!!!
Hood: What a waste. No violence, no destruction, no death. Where's the fun?
Smith: I guess we've learned two things. One, that Shootah can psyche himself up too much, and two, Langston certainly does appear to be a changed man.
Hood: We barely saw him do anything, Smith!
Smith: True, but in the past, he would have been so angry that he would have taken out Belvedere, Scruff, maybe even us, before going back in and doing a lot more damage to Shootah. I'm happy to have him handle things more calmly.
Hood: Good point. Sometimes change can be a good thing, I suppose. But I still want to see blood next time the Savage champ wrestles!
Smith: Given what we saw earlier with Langston and Paras staring down the eMpire...blood may very well be calle for.
Hood: Yes!
Smith: Then again, we could be in for a wrestling classic should all those men be placed into a match against each other.
Hood: BOOOO
Smith: Regardless...Langston has found solace, peace, tranquility within. Good for every day life and perhaps a prism through which he can gain a clearer perspective on his path. However, against the eMpire he may need to stay in touch with that dark, troubled side we've all come to fear.
Hood: So you're saying be Bruce and the Hulk...at the same time?
Smith: I TOLD YOU...
~We cut away~
~Scene Opens, Aubrey Baxter is backstage and fully dressed up. She is ready for tonight's show as she is walking down the hallway in search of Bester looking lovely as always, when she quickly spots Bester in the hallway near his locker room with some resistance bands and head phones on~
{Aubrey}: "Bester..."
~Aubrey calls out to him as she approaches him from behind with a welcoming smile. Aubrey gently slides her fingertips across Bester's shoulder surprising him as he had his eyes closed while working the bands and listening to what ever Bester calls music. Aubrey notices the goose bumps forming down Bester's arm as he quickly removes his headphones and is a little tongue tied.~
{Bester}: "Oh....Miss Baxter.....Hi....I..."
~As Aubrey makes her way around Bester, she drags her index finger along his chest which causes Bester to get a little nipplely~
{Aubrey}: "Uuum, Bester, hey, how's it going?"
{Bester}: "I am doing good Miss Baxter..."
{Aubrey}: "Please, you can call be Aubrey."
{Bester}: "I am just staying warm for my match against Mister Raven, Miss Baxter. I....I huh."
~Bester loses his train of thought as Audrey places her hand on top of Bester's hand as he is holding the band with both hands~
{Aubrey}: "I wanted to let you know that I am actually looking forward to escorting you at ringside tonight. This whole set up wasn't my idea at all. To be honest I'm actually ok with the situation. I been in the ring with you before and I know that you do pretty well in the ring. I think you're a nice guy and I'm more than happy to be here. I hope that you're ok with me getting paired with you tonight."
{Bester}: "I don't understand why Miss Valentine is being so mean to you Miss Baxter. I don't fully understand it. Maybe after I beat Mister Raven and go on to Block Party and win this 32 man tournament, maybe I will do some research as to why Miss Valentine is making you escort me to the ring, which I don't understand either because I don't find this funny. You are a very pretty lady Miss Baxter. Anyone should be honored to have a pretty lady such as yourself walking them down to the ring and cheer them on during their wrestling match. I don't see where this is a embarrassment Miss Baxter. I just hope all of my Rainbow Warriors don't get too mad that when I need a little help from them, that you will be at ringside cheering me on. My Shining Stars are very over protective Miss Baxter but when they see you cheering me on right along with them, I am sure they will except you into the Rainbow family."
{Aubrey}: "Oh Bester, you know how to make a girl blush."
~Aubrey then slides her hands up Bester's arms towards his shoulder and leans in and kisses him on the cheek. It's Bester who is now blushing.~
{Aubrey}: "Good luck out there and I'll see you in a bit. "
~Aubrey then turns and walks away strutting her stuff. Bester is smiling and starts to working his resistance bands at a vigorous pace~
{Bester}: "I just got my first good luck kiss! There is no way I can lose now!"
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Bester has a secret weapon for his match tonight against James Raven!
Hood: You talking about his cock?
Smith: WHAT?!
Hood: You mentioned his secret weapon and, well, we all know how Aubrey makes him feel those funny feelings.
Smith: Please do not litter this broadcast with your disgusting innuendo.
Hood: Innuendo? I wasn't really hinting at anything, man.
Smith: Well, you've got a point there.
Hood: Heh...yea, and so does...
Smith: ENOUGH! Anyway...it's time for our next match this evening folks as Bob Grenier is back in action taking on Tison Kalei! Let's head down to ringside for what should be an exciting encounter.
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Singles Match
Bob Grenier (25-15) vs. Tison Kalei (1-1)
Belvedere: The next match is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...
Where the hood...
Where the hood…
Where the hood at…
~Grenier steps out from behind the curtain to a mixed reaction. He's got one of the OCW tag belts strapped around his waist. Grenier walks down the ramp looking like a kid on Christmas. He slides under the ropes into the ring and walks to his corner~
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222 lbs…he is one half of the OCW Tag-Team Champions and an OCW Hall of Famer…he is…Bob Grenier!!!
Smith: Grenier attended a support therapy session this past week, called "Defining Your Identity".
Hood: Ripoff.
Smith: I'm not sure it actually cost anything, Hood.
Hood: Still a ripoff.
Smith: Well, either way, I'm not sure it did much to help Grenier.
Hood: Why would it? The man knows who he is! A mother-fucking attack helicopter!
~Among the cheers and boos from the crowd, "Pain" begins to play at [:10] the lights in the arena goes dark as White search lights begin to search the sold out crowd. Tison Kalei casually makes his way out from the entrance tunnel and onto the entrance stage. The search light shines on him as he is dressed in Black tactical gear. The camera is far off but then cuts to a cameraman on the stage in front of him as Tison looks around at the crowd with no expression on his face. Looking ahead at the ring, past the cameraman, with his hands, he begins to make fists while rotating his wrists as to loosen them before getting to the ringside area. A computer generated image appears on the screen of Tison's name before disappearing as he continues walking~
Belvedere: From The Island of Kaua'I…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 265 lbs…Tison Kalei!!!
Smith: Kalei, along with his new wife, Aubrey, have been looked at as potential future stand-outs for OCW. But Tison's first real opportunity ended a few weeks ago with his loss to Matt Meyhu in the tournament.
Hood: The future's got nothing on The Marvel.
Smith: Tonight is Kalei's chance at a rebound, and facing a member of the tag-team champions could really help him boost his credibility in the eyes of management.
~The camera cuts to another angle at ringside as Tison climbs up onto the ring apron. "Pain" begins to fade while the crowd is still reacting. The bell rings.~
Smith: Grenier gets his own shot at the Block Party Tournament in a few weeks, when he takes on Canaan Crowley. You could see this being a good warm-up match for him.
Hood: Why does Grenier need a warm-up? You forget, he won the Mike Roth Memorial Tournament earlier this year. Dude is built to win tournaments.
Smith: We will see, Hood, but for now, this one's just for pride.
Hood: And more money.
Smith: ... Yes, more money.
~Grenier has been slouching in the corner, waiting for Kalei to finish his entrance. He gives himself a quick scratch, then pulls himself up. Kalei steps forward to meet him. Grenier's the first to swing, landing a right hand shot. Kalei stumbles back for a second, but then comes back with a backhand chop of his own. Grenier rubs his chest, grins, and then comes back swinging again. The two men begin to brawl, fighting back to one of the corners, as the crowd shows their appreciation.~
Smith: This one's unlikely to be a technical classic.
Hood: But the odds for bloodshed are much higher, so it's all a matter of balance.
Smith: True.
~Kalei has gotten control in the corner, thanks to a series of stiff elbow shots. Grenier works to shake it off, though, and turns, spitting in Kalei's face! Kalei, furious, comes right back, not bothering to wipe his face. He grabs Grenier around the throat and starts to choke him out!! Referee Gruff orders him to stop, starting a count of five. He works to get between the two wrestlers, not an easy task for the older referee. As Gruff's back is turned, Grenier reaches up and rakes the eyes of Kalei, blinding him and causing him to release the choke. Kalei staggers back, trying to clear his vision. Gruff looks at Grenier, who shrugs his shoulders, then jumps forward, tackling Kalei to the ground and pounding away on him.~
Hood: He countered an illegal move with another illegal move! I love this guy!
Smith: I hate to see dirty tactics, but at least it balanced itself out.
Hood: Balance sucks. Go for the eyes again, Bob! Or knee him in the crotch!
~Grenier brings the dazed Kalei up, only to take him right back down with a short arm clothesline. Grenier sits there for a few seconds, pleased, before deciding to get both men back up. He takes Kalei to the ropes, snapping off at him with a few more remarks about Kalei's wife. He even points towards his teeth, pretending to gum up. He shoots Kalei off the ropes, no, Kalei angrily reverses it. Grenier ducks around the big boot attempt, then returns, but Kalei nails him with a jumping fist punch! Kalei doesn't let up there, stomping furiously away on Grenier, who tries to protect himself in any way possible.~
Smith: Mentioning Aubrey Baxter-Kalei might not have been the smartest move on Grenier's part.
Hood: The guy speaks his mind, Smith, he always has.
Smith: Well, Kalei's now speaking with the heels of his boots.
~After finishing with the stomps, Kalei drags Grenier up off the mat. He uses his slight height advantage to lift Grenier up into a bear hug, working to squeeze the life out of him! Grenier tries to use his head to get free, but the shots appear to have no effect, as Kalei wrenches him around harder. Kalei himself then breaks the hold, but only because he turned the submission into a belly-to-belly suplex! Kalei stays on top, making the first cover of the match, as Gruff moves in.~
1!
Smith: Grenier kicks out before Gruff can even hit two!
Hood: You ain't pinning a Hall of Famer with a single move! Get up, Grenier!
~ Kalei gets up, not looking too surprised. He drops a few knees into Grenier's side, knocking him flat each time. Kalei then pulls Grenier to his feet, sending him rocketing into the nearby corner. Grenier hangs there, looking stunned. Kalei pumps himself up, then charges forward, going for a body splash. But Grenier wasn't as out of it as it seemed, as he yanks himself out of the way, sending Kalei flying past him into the turnbuckle. Kalei holds his chest in pain and turns back, only to get a boot to the stomach to bend him over. Grenier then brings him out of the corner with a DDT, landing it hard enough to flip Kalei over. Grenier then makes the pin, not bothering to grab a leg.~
1!
2!
Smith: And Kalei kicks out, pushing Grenier off of him!
Hood: He should have just stayed down. Grenier's going to start dominating him.
Smith: Something tells me Grenier wouldn't like how you just phrased that, Hood.
Hood: What? I just meant... Grenier's going to fuck him up!
Smith: ...
Hood: Up! I said Up!
~Grenier opts to stay on the mat, putting Kalei into a front face lock. He punches away at Kalei while holding him there, telling the man to just give up and retire. Gruff checks, but Kalei's not submitting, so Grenier sighs and pulls the man up. He takes him towards the ropes, deciding on his next course of action. Kalei interrupts, though, hitting Grenier with a surprise forearm to knock him away. Kalei leans on the ropes, trying to clear his vision during the brief lull. But Grenier's already coming back, charging and taking Kalei over the ropes with a cactus clothesline over the ropes!! Both men fall to the outside, with Grenier landing on his feet. He grabs at Kalei and shoves him into the barricade, with some fans diving to get out of the way, while others try to press in to get closer to the action.~
Smith: Uh oh, we've gone outside, where the worst injuries in the sport happen!
Hood: Usually in OCW, it doesn't matter where you are, you can get hurt.
Smith: I know, Hood. I haven't forgotten that paper-cut you got a few months back.
Hood: Don't remind me, that shit hurt!
~Grenier lands a series of shots on Kalei while he's leaning on the barricade, then reaches over and grabs one of the fan's beers. He goes to drink it, but then smells it and realizes it's light beer. The beer flies back into the fan's face, as Grenier pulls Kalei's arm to whip him towards the apron. Kalei reverses, though, and Grenier hits back-first instead, grimacing in pain at the shot. Kalei follows up with a grab, giving Grenier a belly-to-back suplex on the floor! Grenier rolls away in agony, as Kalei takes the time to pull himself back together. The fan who got beer thrown on him is now screaming for Kalei to get up and do more damage.~
Hood: Shit, Grenier's back is his one weakness!
Smith: Andrea Hernandez did a number on him at Social Justice, and he's definitely still healing.
Hood: Grenier got screwed with a fast count on that crucifix. He should be both Craze and Tag-Team Champion!
Smith: Right now he just needs to forget about that and get back into this match with Kalei.
~Gruff finally starts doing his job, starting a count, as Kalei gets to his feet. He goes over and gets Grenier up, sending him rolling into the ring. Kalei follows, pulling himself up and into the ring, removing the chance of a count out. Grenier tries to get up to meet him, wincing, but Kalei stops that, grabbing Grenier and dropping with a neckbreaker! Grenier rolls onto his stomach, showing his veteran experience, but Kalei's not looking for a pinfall yet. He sets himself, waiting for Grenier to work his way up, then comes in, setting Grenier up for a Buckle Bomb! But as Kalei runs towards the corner, Grenier pushes off, landing on his feet behind him. Before Kalei can readjust and turn around, Grenier quickly grabs him from behind and yanks him down, locking in O'Gormans Neuce!! The crowd gets hyped as Grenier gets one of his trademark maneuvers, working to make Kalei submit to the dragon sleeper!~
Hood: Grenier's going to make him submit!
Smith: That is not an easy hold to escape from, as you have basically no leverage! But can Grenier's back hold out?
~The referee is checking on Kalei, seeing if he either wants to give up or has passed out. Kalei's still fighting, though, not wanting to quit on this opportunity. Meanwhile, Grenier's struggling to keep the hold in place. You can see the wincing as he keeps the 265-lb wrestler up. Grenier finally drops it, while also taking Kalei to the mat, bouncing the back of his head off the canvas. Grenier then rolls on top, trying for the pinfall instead of the submission.~
1!
2!
Smith: Kalei still manages to kick out!
Hood: You'd think the guy would know better. Why do more damage to yourself?
~Grenier looks a little annoyed now that Kalei didn't stay down. He gets slowly to his feet, staring at the younger wrestler as Kalei works to his knees, trying to get up. Grenier shakes his head, and then steps in, looking for the start of the Hollinger Park Hangman!! But Kalei, having scouted ahead, manages to block the front chancery and reverse into a hip toss, then catching a rising Grenier with a lariat, putting him back down. Grenier starts rising again, but Kalei doesn't stop, landing a heart punch that sends Grenier back into the corner, gasping for breath. Kalei follows, continuing the attack while he still has the momentum.~
Smith: What's it going to take to keep Kalei down?
Hood: If it's pharmaceutical-based, Grenier will know how to find it!
Smith: You're not suggesting...
Hood: Whatever it takes to win!
~Kalei lands some more shots in the corner, trying to weaken the OCW Hall of Famer enough to take him down. Grenier is once again covering up, trying to avoid the worst of the abuse. But some of the shots are still making it through. Kalei finally stops, instead picking Grenier up and lifting him onto his shoulder. He turns and comes out with a powerbomb, planting Grenier into the mat! Rather than going for the pin, though, Kalei drags himself to his feet, moving to the ropes to give himself some added support. Grenier, clutching at his back, starts to get up, clearly hurting. Kalei steps in, looking set to end it with the Kaua'i Kutter!! But no, Grenier shoves Kalei off, sending him into the ropes. Kalei comes back with his arm outstretched, trying to take Grenier's head off, but Grenier drops to a knee, going underneath. When Kalei returns, Grenier is ready, catching Kalei and lifting him up, landing the Hollinger Park Hangman!!! Grenier plops down and makes the cover, hanging on as Gruff falls to make the count.~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings, signalling the end of the match.~
Belvedere: Here is your winner... BOB GRENIER!!!
Smith: Impressive win for Bob! Now he can turn his attention to next week and his first round contest in the Block Party tournament!
Hood: Tison's faced Meyhu and Bob in his last two matches. I think the guy needs to head back to the shallow end for awhile.
Smith: Perhaps...hopefully Tison doesn't get too discouraged. He could still turn things around!
~The feed cuts backstage, for if it were to cut to frontstage, the world would implode. Probably. We zoom in tightly on the face of Marcus Welsh, whose blissful smile betrays his usual businesslike demeanor. Welsh’s head bobs slightly forward and backward, eyes closed, appearing to be on cloud nine.~
Marcus Welsh: Greg… you always know just the right spot… Mmm…
~A loud, rhythmic knock raps against the office door, but Welsh doesn’t so much as open an eye to address it.~
Marcus Welsh: Yes… more. MORE! YES! GREG!!
~Welsh’s eyelids open, his eyes euphorically rolling backward until… the back-and-forth motion stops suddenly. Welsh’s mouth forms a frown.~
Marcus Welsh: Don’t stop. Why did you…
~He refocuses his eyes forward. They rapidly grow in size.~
Marcus Welsh: AAAARRGHGH!!!!
~The camera zooms out just in time to see Welsh yell in surprise and flip clear backward out of his office chair, crashing to the floor. Greg stands beside the fallen Welsh, looking down at him, unsure if he should continue the shoulder rub or get back to work. Welsh quickly regains his feet in a grumble, dusting off his suit angrily.~
Marcus Welsh: How did YOU get in here?
~Welsh points a bitter finger at the person on the other side of the desk. The finger visibly trembles as our camera pans over to an eerie visage standing, arms crossed, white and blue silk robes shimmering in the office lights, ornate Japanese mask showing no emotion apart from the eyes glaring from within. The woman known as YUKI-ONNA darts her head toward Greg, who immediately turns his face away from her with a yelp of terror.~
Marcus Welsh: Greg, take five. This won’t take long.
~Greg sidles past YUKI-ONNA nervously, the ghost woman watching him the entire way. Greg quietly opens the office door and slides out.~
Marcus Welsh: Now, Miss…Yuki, is it? What can I do for you?
~The office door, still ajar, flies open and smacks against the wall behind it as if a sudden gust of wind has rushed through the OCW arena halls.~
Robin Toth: What can you do for US, Brother Welsh? Oh, the things you can DO!
~YUKI-ONNA’s White Sky counterpart, Robin Toth, barrels into the room with an over-the-top, gallant stride, his white, caped tuxedo finely pressed for an audience with the boss. Toth throws a leg over the back of the chair in front of the desk and drops down into it, propping both shiny white shoes atop the desk. Welsh indignantly mumbles as the Revolution Ringleader smiles below his blue snowflake-adorned mask.~
Marcus Welsh: Get your feet off my desk. Did Zybala put you up to this?
~Toth cups a hand to his ear, seemingly ignoring Welsh, while YUKI-ONNA stands ominously behind him.~
Robin Toth: Can you hear it, Brother Welsh? Can you hear the winds of revolution reverberating in their vocal chords? The ones chanting “WE ARE THE SKY” in the face of the oppression your old, racist, sexist, chauvinistic, barbaric swine spew? What a joyous noise it was!
Marcus Welsh: Are you talking about two weeks ago with Vargas? Vargas says a lot of things to get under people’s skin. It’s nothing new for the fans to rally against it.
Robin Toth: Ah, quite right, Brother Welsh. We have been rallying for change our entire young lives, we and Yuki-san and the entire White Sky. The rally isn’t what’s new, no, no, no. It’s the results. You surely recall at Social Justice when our dear “Big Bad Chad” assaulted a harmless fan, just because Chad couldn’t handle what our brother had to say. Flash forward to Massacre after Social Justice, and Chaddy Chad was at it again, once again using his fists to do what his brain cannot in the same demonstrative way a child pounds a square peg into a circular hole. Someone really should arrest him, you know.
Marcus Welsh: I’ll… take it under advisement. Now can you please get…
Robin Toth: But alas! Brother Vargas was counting on the snowflakes shattering, when instead… they only grew and grew and GREW until the weight of progress was too much for regressive Chad Vargas and his drug-addled little friend Bobby Grenier to hold! Instead of lying down and turning the other cheek, we struck back against those who oppose real social change and personal freedoms. We, Brother Welsh, made a stand and will continue to do so! Ahhh… which brings us to tonight, when we must make a stand again!
~Welsh uncomfortably picks his chair off the floor and takes a seat, making sure to raise it up just a little higher than the level at which Toth sits. He folds his hands over his lap, trying to maintain a professional appearance, despite his obvious annoyance at Toth and trepidation toward YUKI-ONNA.~
Marcus Welsh: Fine, so tell me, Mr. Toth, what would you and your… Sky like to make a stand against?
~Toth’s Cheshire grin grows wide as he leans back in the chair.~
Robin Toth: Against silence, of course!
Marcus Welsh: Silence?
Robin Toth: Mhmm, perhaps you might have noticed that, in the two months we have been in OCW, we have yet to be granted an official in-ring contest on your brightest of stages. It took nearly that entire time just for you to put our faces on the roster page! One could say, Brother Welsh, that like millions of other millennials, we have had to carve out every opportunity we have had on our own due to the failures of our earlier generations, but it’s almost as if… hmm… someone doesn’t want our message to be heard. What do you think, Yuki-san?
~YUKI-ONNA doesn’t move, which is almost more unsettling to Welsh than if she had. Welsh puts his hands up, flustered.~
Marcus Welsh: Look, there are only so many opportunities to go around, and you might have noticed this place is practically overflowing with strong tag teams of late. The Dravers Boys are back, so are the Lockwoods. We’ve got fresh teams like the Pretty Committee, Kortare and Morgan, the Dirty Birds, Madman and the Princess, and the current #1 contenders, Team ATARI, not to mention a ton of other teams chomping at the bit to get to OCW. That’s the kind of diversity millennials love, isn’t it?
~Welsh seems pleased with his own logic trail and gains confidence as he opts to go with it.~
Marcus Welsh: This isn’t about your politics or your social justice or whatever you come up with on your Reddit or Instagram. I gave a whole Pay-Per-View a “social justice” theme, so that should last you limited-attention-span millennials years! If you’re upset that I haven’t been booking you, I would suggest to you both that you might get in line with everyone else and wait for your time instead of pirating my television feed, interfering in my show, brainwashing my paying fans, and attacking my champions. Do I make myself clear?
~Welsh awaits an answer that never comes. As the camera pans back over to Toth, we see him staring longingly into his cell phone screen. Welsh taps his fingers on his desk annoyedly and runs a hand across his face in disgust.~
Marcus Welsh: HELLO?!
~Toth springs to his feet, turning his back to Welsh and holding his phone aloft at an angle.~
Robin Toth: Hello Brother Welsh! Thank you for joining us on this Live feed! Friends, in case you missed it, Brother Welsh has admitted to purposely not booking us on his show and had some rather nasty remarks toward the younger fans of his programs. Feel welcome to spam his social media—the links are in the description. THIS, friends, is one of the many reasons we talk, we fight, and we revolutionize our world; so that people like Brother Welsh can experience a more open-minded, accepting world where everyone gets an opportunity, no matter who they are, how they speak, dress, or look. Now that we have recognized the discrimination, let us revel in the fact that we have the power to change it. So, Brother Welsh, we shall bid you adieu and sayonara, as we shall eagerly await our opportunity as advised. We are not unreasonable…
~Toth zooms the phone camera in with his finger and thumb, so only his face is visible on the livestream.~
Robin Toth: Oh, friends, we are merely unstoppable. Because TOGETHER!...
~Toth suddenly leaps out of the chair and heads for the door, startling Welsh, as he and YUKI-ONNA leave the room without another word. Welsh puts his head in his hands as the door creaks open long enough for Greg to step back inside.~
Greg: Are they gone?
Marcus Welsh: God, I hope so.
Greg: When I was out in the hall, Cap told me there’s a call on line 2 for you. It sounded important.
Marcus Welsh: Damn it. I bet it’s the 18-wheeler driver wondering what to do with all the bums. Why can’t we get competent help for simple tasks these days?
~Welsh picks up his desk phone and presses a button.~
Marcus Welsh: Hello?
Voices on the phone: ….WE ARE THE SKY!!!!!!!!!
~Welsh slams the receiver down on his desk and knocks the entire phone console to the floor with his arm. Greg looks on, concerned, as Welsh buries his head back in his hands. We cut back to ringside.~
Smith: Robin Toth is right...White Sky has already made a tremendous impact...their in-ring debut is long overdue!
Hood: And Welsh is right...we have, like, fifteen hundred tag teams right now. White Sky can wait their turn...go rally against some random social issue that, in the grand scheme of things means absolutely nothing.
Smith: What a sour attitude. White Sky is destined to break through at some point...perhaps when Zybala regains his power.
Hood: AH!
Smith: What? Are you okay?
Hood: Sorry...but when you said Zybala regaining power I got scared.
Smith: Oh please, stop acting so dramatic
~A week has past since Mastodon spoke with Nanook and listened to his pitch. He slept on the idea of wearing Bester’s old OGDA mask. He read the stack of comics, three or four times each. He felt like he understood it a little better but was still on the fence~
~As he arrived for Massacre, Mastodon found himself standing in front of the board just outside of Marcus Welsh’s office and failed to see his name listed anywhere on the card. Couldn’t even be thought of to have some meaningless dark match for no rhyme or reason. He started to question even why he was putting himself through this. Surely some other company could see his potential and use him. All he wanted was a chance.~
~Disappointed, he turned and slowly made his way down the hallway and the next he knew, he was knocking on the door to Nanook’s office.~
~Or his apartment. He wasn’t sure.~
~He turns the door knob and walks in the office to find Nanook sitting in a old barber’s chair with a cigar in his mouth.~
“Masty! You have come back!”
~Nanook bellows with a huge smile on his face.~
~Mastodon looks around the room. The bed is gone. The dresser is gone. The smell is gone. The place has been cleaned up and sports a pool table, the barbers chair and small round table and a desk just past that. On the table is OGDA’s mask and a stack of new, freshly printed tee shirts. On them is screen printed in silver is a Mastodon logo to look like a 80’s metal band logo, so brutal, with two huge Mastodon tusks at the end of it and a faded rainbow behind all of that. A clue of what is coming. ~
~Mastodon walks to the table and looks at the tee shirts. He’s never had a tee shirt before.~
“You can buy them on pro wrestling tees starting today.”
~Nanook says as he slowly unwedges himself from the barber’s chair~
“What do you think?”
~He picks one of them up and looks at it.~
“I don’t know what to say?”
“Why don’t you wear that one right there, to the ring next week when for your first ever nationally televised match.”
~Nanook says and then sticks his cigar in his mouth while looking down at Mastodon. (Nanook standing seven foot himself.)~
“My what? My match next week?”
~Nanook nods.~
“Yes sir! Found some ringers for you to bulldoze down. You know, create that car crash!”
~Nanook says and then laughs~
“How?”
“I’ve got connections. I told you to trust me. I’ll set them up, you knock them down. What do you say? Partner. We’ll get everyone to know your name, then we’ll get them to believe in you, then we’ll give them what the really want.”
~Nanook says as he taps on the OGDA mask~
“Then we’ll cash in.”
~Mastodon looks at the tee, looks at the mask and looks at Nanook. He then holds his hand out~
“Looks like I’m going to be able to pay grans electric bill this month. That’s what I think.”
~Nanook grins and shakes Mastodon hand. We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: The Mastodon next week?
Hood: Sounds like it!
Smith: He's big...he's powerful...should be interesting to see him inside an OCW ring.
Hood: Hey, big and powerful is a good start.
Smith: Indeed! Well, folks, it's time for our next match...Robert Morbidus suffered a tough first round exit last week against Mario Maurako thanks to the actions of Cecilworth Farthington...
Hood: M! Don't forget the M!
Smith: Yea, sure...Farthington made his shocking arrival by blasting Morbidus in the head with a wooden cross, costing Robert his spot in the tournament. Tonight, Morbidus is back in action looking for a rebound win against February's newcomer of the month, Evin Empire.
Hood: Evin is a fucking beast, man. His only loss was in that Elimination Chamber and, if my math is correct, three Hall of Famers lost that same match.
Smith: It was a star studded affair that proved Empire has what it takes to hang in the main event scene here, in OCW. Tonight is yet another challenge...for both men! Let's head down to ringside and find out who will emerge victorious this evening.
|
|
Singles Match
Evin Empire (7-1) vs. Robert Morbidus (5-5)
~The night is still young, as evidenced by the wide, sober eyed contingent of loyal OCW fans. They discuss certain topics while awaiting some action to take place inside the ring. Belvedere clears his throat, instantly garnering their attention~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...
~~ The lights dim to black as the opening chords of his entrance theme fill the arena to a majority of boos. Multi-colored strobe lights flicker on and off to the beat of the music as smoke begins to fill the entrance way. Evin Empire steps out from behind the curtain with a swagger in his walk and a sarcastic grin on his face. He begins trading insults with the fans on the rail and slowly makes his way toward the ring. He slides in, runs to the opposite corner, hops onto the middle turnbuckle and taunts the crowd once again as his music fades~
Belvedere: From Reno, Nevada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 215 lbs…Evin Empire!!!
Hood: Empire prepared for this match by visiting the memorial of one of the most famous vampire hunters in our history.
Smith: There is absolutely no proof that Abraham Lincoln was a vampire hunter, Hood.
Hood: Of course not. The government is very good at keeping secrets.
Smith: I don't really think Empire believed it to be true, either, Hood.
Hood: Whether he believes it or not, I bet he ate some more garlic pizza before coming out here. Talk about killer breath!
~'The Animal' by Disturbed begins to play as the arena lights go blood red with smoke filling the ringside area - almost like fog and through the curtain steps Morbidus' manager and legal counsel, Mr. Judas. He stands there for a few seconds with an evil smile before motioning backwards. A few seconds go by and then Robert Morbidus steps through the curtain with a deadly serious look on his face. He barges past Judas and storms down to the ring. Morbidus then goes to a corner and eyes the ramp with eyes like a hawk. Judas then goes to Morbidus' corner on the outside providing last minute advice and encouragement~
Belvedere: His opponent...from The Other Side of Darkness…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 275 lbs…please welcome back 'The True Living Vampire' Robert Morbidus!!!
Smith: We learned a lot about Elizabeth Bathory this week from Morbidus and his journey to the museum, as well as some history about Hungary.
Hood: Ugh. Learning. All I care about is learning how to stop a vampire, and we learned that last week thanks to Mario Maurako. A good cross will do it every time!
Smith: That was just written in the Dracula stories, Hood, Morbidus told us it wasn't true.
Hood: It looked pretty damn effective to me!
~Belvedere makes his way out of the ring, and the bell rings.~
Smith: So here we go, two guys who could conceivably use a victory tonight to propel them into a title opportunity.
Hood: Y'know, I just realized... last week, Morbidus fought Maurako and the eMpire. Tonight, he faces Evin Empire. Coincidence? Or is Morbidus involved in a war against empires?
Smith: You still manage to surprise me sometimes, Hood.
Hood: Thanks. Wait...
~Empire and Morbidus meet in the center of the ring, with Morbidus' size advantage very evident. Empire doesn't seem intimidated, though, as he taunts Morbidus about drinking blood. Morbidus just glares down at him, so Empire nods his head and runs to the ropes, coming back with a shoulderblock. But it's Empire that ends up moving backwards, as Morbidus did not move. Empire shrugs it off and tries again, hitting the ropes and returning, but again Morbidus doesn't budge from the hit. On a third attempt, Morbidus moves for a clothesline, but Empire ducks under it and runs to the other side, charging back and going for a splash, only to have Morbidus catch him in mid-air and immediately spin him down into the Stake Through The Heart, causing Empire to roll out of the ring to recover!~
Smith: So far, Morbidus is looking like a tough match-up for Empire.
Hood: It's way too early to think that, you know Empire's got a game plan in mind.
Smith: Well, now would be a good time to implement it.
~Empire takes a few extra seconds on the outside, thinking about his options, as Judas tries to give Morbidus some advice. But Morbidus doesn't feel like waiting, instead coming to the ropes and stepping out onto the apron. Empire was waiting for this, though, as he rushes forward, sweeping Morbidus' leg before he can get completely through the ropes! Morbidus racks himself on the rope and painfully topples over to the outside, landing in front of Empire, who takes immediate advantage by laying the boots in. After a few more stomps, Empire gets up and climbs on the apron, taking a running start and flipping forward onto Morbidus' back! Empire gets back to his feet, mocking a few audience members who are snapping at him, before rolling back into the ring.~
Hood: I TOLD you he had a game plan!
Smith: And a pretty effective one, to boot, as he got some damage in on "The True Living Vampire". But I don't know why he backed off after the assault.
Hood: It looks like Empire would be perfectly content in a count-out victory. Looks the same in the record books, after all.
~Empire waits as he watches Scruff make the count, but Judas has already moved over to encourage Morbidus back to his feet. Morbidus listens to him and gets up, rolling himself under the ropes to break the count. Empire, annoyed, comes in with some more stomps, but Morbidus keeps fighting to rise, shrugging off the attacks. Empire shrugs and steps back, waiting for Morbidus to get fully up before he snaps in with a superkick! But Morbidus grabs the leg, blocking the attack, then throws it to the side. Empire tries to spin it into another kick, but Morbidus bats that one away too, steps in, and grabs Empire around the shoulders, dropping back to bang Empire's head off the canvas! Empire holds his head and tries to roll away, but Morbidus is already rising up and grabs him, pulling him in close and lifting him up, before dropping him with a powerbomb! Morbidus then makes the first cover of the match.~
1!
2!
Hood: Empire manages to get a shoulder up! That was a heavy impact!
Smith: That one shook the ring. Even Scruff looked a little off-balance.
Hood: How could you tell?
~Morbidus now has dragged Empire to the corner, where he's pounding on him with some stiff elbow shots. He uses his big boot to choke Empire, earning a five count from Scruff before he releases. Empire is breathing heavily now, as Morbidus comes back in. He drags Empire out of the corner and suplexes him over, displaying his strength, before trying another pinfall. But Empire kicks out rather quickly, showing the amount of fight still left in him. Morbidus has no problems continuing the abuse, as he drags Empire towards the side of the ring and throws him over the ropes. Empire corrects in mid-air, though, and lands on his feet. He lands a quick kick to Morbidus' head, stunning him, and then springs up on the ropes, spinning around and landing a 720 DDT!! The fans react with cheers for the move, even as Empire drops for the pin attempt.~
1!
2!
Smith: Morbidus manages to kick out!
Hood: That one definitely seemed to stun him. You think Empire made the sign of the cross as he was coming down?
Smith: I think the move was enough on its own, Hood.
Hood: Yeah, but if he had some holy water on his hands at the same time, he might have gotten the win!
Smith: Sigh.
~Morbidus is trying to struggle back to his feet, but his bent-over stature allows Empire to come in and deliver a quick spinning neckbreaker, putting Morbidus back onto the mat. Empire then looks to the ropes, heading quickly over to the turnbuckle. He hops up, climbing as quickly as his weary muscles will let him, and gets to the top. He gets his balance, making sure he's lined up, as Judas is yelling at Morbidus to move. But he doesn't in time, as Empire flies off the top with his Empire Press!! He lands it perfectly, hammering down on Morbidus, then makes the cover, trying to hang onto one of Morbidus' large legs.~
1!
2!
Smith: Morbidus kicks out again!
Hood: I'm telling you, Smith, Empire needs a cross! Or maybe a silver bullet!
Smith: Okay, now we're just mixing up weaknesses, Hood.
Hood: What? A silver bullet will put down just about everybody!
~Empire doesn't seem fazed that Morbidus kicked out. He's ready to end this one. The younger wrestler moves to the ropes and waits, looking over his shoulder at Morbidus, who is sitting up and trying to get back to his feet. The crowd is loving this right now, although they're almost overtaken by the loud yells of Judas. Empire smirks to himself, makes sure that everything is lined up, and then springs off the ropes for the first part of the Empire Strikes Back!! But Morbidus ducks under the moonsault attempt! Empire lands on his feet, re-positioning in mid-air, but he's still unable to counter when Morbidus spins around to face him, grabbing Empire and taking him over with the Vampire's Redemption!! The falling slam has Empire knocked senseless, allowing Morbidus to have a few moments to pull himself back together.~
Smith: The vampire keeps fighting back!
Hood: C'mon, Empire! Think! What would Abraham Lincoln do?
~Both men get back to their feet, each showing the effects of this hard-hitting match. Empire reacts first with a discus clothesline, but Morbidus just stumbles back to the ropes, rather than going down. Morbidus then rebounds, so Empire tries a leaping kick, but Morbidus answers with a big boot, spearing Empire out of the air!! Empire collapses to the mat, with Morbidus stepping over to pick him up. He lifts Empire in the air onto his shoulders and begins to spin, prepping for Eternal Suffering!!! But Empire manages to get free, turning it into a headscissor takedown! With Morbidus down, Empire staggers back over to the turnbuckle, climbing up once again. But Morbidus is already rising once more, and comes up behind Empire, grabbing him on the 'buckle. Empire tries to fight free, but Morbidus drops him off with the Dark Kiss!!! Empire sprawls on the canvas, with a weary Morbidus making the pin.~
1!
2!
Smith: So close!
Hood: Now I'm starting to wonder what it's going to take to keep Empire down! Is he an immortal too?
Smith: Or he's just one tough son of a bitch!
~Judas is pounding on the apron, calling for Morbidus to end it. Morbidus gets up, shaking his head for a second. He looks spent. Unfortunately for Empire, there's an easy remedy for that. Morbidus drags Empire up and makes a move towards his throat, trying to siphon off some of Empire's blood!! Empire reacts, barely managing to keep Morbidus' fangs off of him, desperately pulling away towards the ropes. Morbidus angrily follows, swinging wildly, but Empire ducks under it and ends up behind the vampire. He grabs both of Morbidus' arms and drops backwards, before he can react, landing a double cutthroat lungblower!! Morbidus bounces in agony on the mat, feeling the sting go all the way through his spine. Empire, meanwhile, is heading for the top turnbuckle once more.~
Hood: Now's your chance, Evin!! Put a stake right through this guy's heart!!
Smith: I'm sure you don't mean that literally.
Hood: Why the fuck not? This vampire just tried to suck his blood!!
Smith: Well, there is that, but...
Hood: Make him fade into dust like those Avengers did!
~Morbidus gets to his feet, shaken. Empire leaps off the top rope…Morbidus lifts a big boot right into Empire’s face!!! Evin’s body snaps back, violently, slamming into the mat!! He appears out. His body is lifeless. Morbidus drops to one knee, continuing to display the collective damage this contest has had on him~
Smith: What a boot! He nearly decapitated Evin’s head!
Hood: That would have been messy, Smith. Kind of like when a person who ISN’T A VAMPIRE opens the cap to a shaken soda.
Smith: I’ll never look at fizz the same way again.
~Morbidus finally recovers. Judas yells “FEED!” at Robert. We’re not entirely sure what this means but we certainly hope it isn’t LITERAL. Morbidus gets to his feet and grabs Evin by the neck, pulling him to his feet. He hoists Evin up, onto his shoulders~
Smith: He’s looking to drop Evin Empire with Eternal Suffering!
Hood: Fucking hell…wake up, Evin! You can’t lose to a goofy vampire! Where’s a cross? We need a cross!
Smith: You sit down and be quiet!
~Morbidus begins to spin around with Evin over his shoulders (airplane spin). Evin lifts a knee into the side of Robert’s face, staggering the big man. Morbidus tries to hold onto Evin…but the young, talented rookie is proving to be too strong. He’s about to break free when Morbidus secures his grip!! Evin looks around like “OH SHIT!” Morbidus starts to spin again…he spins faster and faster…Evin, feeling the match slipping from his grasp, reaches down and rakes Morbidus across the face! The vampire’s grip weakens. Evin gets his legs free and whips his body around, free from Robert’s shoulders. He runs for the ropes. Robert’s back is facing him. Morbidus turns around…Evin hits the ropes, he springboards off the middle rope, performs a moonsault, grabs Robert on the way down and drops him with Empire Strikes Back!!! The entire ring shakes from the impact!! Empire jumps on top of Morbidus for the pin…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…EVIN EMPIRE!!!!!
Smith: Empire did it! He managed to slip a win past Morbidus!
Hood: Lucky, lucky, lucky…but, hey, glad the kid won.
Smith: Huge win for Evin! He’s so close to breaking through.
Hood: Kid needs a title shot, Smith. NOW
Smith: I certainly can’t argue that. Tough loss for Morbidus…you have to feel for him. He’s struggled since returning…but, when you look at his struggles closely you see two narrow losses…one to a two time hall of famer and the other to arguably the most talented performer on the roster.
Hood: Nothing to be ashamed of…Morbidus will get this shit straight. No doubt.
~Inside the MCC in the control room. 2600 and Flashback 2 is enjoying a nice cup of coffee and each other's company when a message spits out from the small printer in middle of the panel. 2600 sets his cup down and tears it off and looks at it~
FB2: What is it?
2600: OneRoverOne has caught Bert running his mouth. Bert has said some very unsavory things about us.
FB2: And to think, we risk our lives for that inbred dipshit.
2600: Not his fault his parents are trailer park trash and dropped him on his head on US soil thus giving him every right we has. We can’t pick and choose every human being who is born a US citizen.
FB2: Maybe we should.
2600 looks at FB2 and can’t believe she utter that last statement.
FB2: What did that moron say anyways?
2600: Seems Bert and Ernie have issued a open challenge of sorts, which we have already responded to. Bert has filed a reply.
FB2: And?
2600: I can tell this Yamauchi scumbag is annoyed by us. You can clearly tell they fear our battle on the 29th of April. You can hear it in his voice, just listen to his voice, they know they can’t beat Team ATARI on the battlefield. This little open challenge is a rouse, clearly. They have no intent to face other Yamauchi scumbags in battle. It is a trick and nothing more.
FB2: Whatever. Bert and Ernie will get theirs soon enough. You and 7800 will make quick work of them.
2600: Yes, I fully agree. It is amusing though how many other squads are so eager to go to battle against Bert and Ernie. Especially this one lone wolf Yamauchi whore.
FB2: Who’s that?
2600: This lower tier Yamauchi female special ops who calls herself the Rebel Incarnate.
FB2: Fucking gag me, such a unoriginal hack. I have seen that trashbag around for a while now. Which reminds me! The PTB sent a special file on that one yesterday.
2600: And I was not made aware of this?
FB2: uhm! I was busy yesterday and you caught a case of sleepy eyes if you remember!
2600: Ah! Yes. I had a sudden urge…..to take a nap and recharge my batteries.
FB2: Yes! I know!
7800: Dilly dilly! (From off camera)
2600: No asked you!
~Flashback 2 spins around and in a drawer she retrieves the file on Melinda Rhodes. She hands it to 2600 who opens it and begins to read~
2600: Codename “Meg” is known to have ties to the Yamauchi army, naturally, we already knew this, clearly she has no self worth of herself and would look to take the easier route in life. the classic non hard worker. Meg is opportunistic and will use her good looks to get ahead in life. Hmmm, Yes. Meg was the first to respond to Bert and Ernie’s challenge even when she clearly did not have any backup for battle.
FB2: But she claims to have backup.
2600: Clearly just another Yamauchi pawn of no worth. We will have to keep an eye on Meg, clearly she is part of the Ponzi scheme to try and weaken us prior to going to war with Bert and Ernie but it shall not happen. When we defeat Bert and Ernie in battle in a couple of weeks, We will need to deal with Meg sooner than later, and swiftly. Let’s not waste time on this lower tier Yamauchi pawn.
FB2: I say we smack that bitch now and send her packing.
2600: The Energon Devices are too important to get distracted by Meg. No, The Yamauchi shall continue to bait us in, but it won’t work. Bert and Ernie have a date with death and no one and nothing shall stop us from Alt Control Deleting those two Yamauchi scumbags. Flashback 2! Time to move the MCC and move down the coast some. We should keep our distance from them, for their safety.
~Flashback 2 sets her coffee cup down and reaches in her pocket of her battlesuit and pulls out the keys to the MCC~
FB2: Relocating procedure coming up sir!
2600: Thank you Flashback 2!
~Flashback 2 turns and steps out of the control room towards the cockpit of the MCC. 2600 looks at the file again~
2600: Download a virus? Bert, we’re like Apple. Immune to that shit.
~Fade out, back to the announce table~
Smith: Team ATARI appears ready for battle!
Hood: Man, can you remember a more fucked up combination than Team ATARI and Bob/Chad?
Smith: They are vastly different teams...but, that's what makes OCW so great! The disparity...the colorful menagerie of personalities!
Hood: I'm scared Team ATARI might win those belts, Smith. And, you know me, I rarely get scared.
Smith: And why does that notion scare you?
Hood: ONE OF THEM CAN'T EVEN TALK
Smith: Sure he can, he communicates in his own, unique way.
Hood: Fuck off with that shit.
Smith: Articulate, as always.
Smith: I just received word that a video package is about to air!
Hood: Oh god, is it another one of those HOW hooligans?
Smith: That remains to be seen, let’s roll the clip.
~The logo for TMZ flashes on the screen, accompanied by television static and white noise, as a reporter and a cameraman are see outside a grocery store. They quickly hustle inside the store, roaming the aisles until they come across OCW wrestler the Incredible One and his daughter, Jenna.~
TMZ: Hey, TIO – quick word—
TIO: Excuse me? Fuck off I’m shopping with my kid!
~TIO grabs the reporter and shoves him directly into the camera, and another white noise transitions into the next part of the video. Another TMZ reporter, with another cameraman, is going up on a long line to the movie theatres, for Captain Marvel. They reach the front of the line as TIO is there, again with Jenna, and he is paying for their tickets and refreshments.~
TMZ: Hey TIO, sorry, quick word on the recent HOW raveling’s in OCW?
TIO: I’m—
Jenna: DO YOU FUCKERS NOT HAVE A LIFE?! LEAVE US ALONE YOU COCKSUCKERS!
~Jenna kicks the TMZ reporter in the nuts as he falls down hard, holding himself, as TIO grabs the cameraman and tosses him over the refreshment counter. The static transitions once more to the Rum Bar in Key West, hours before tonight’s Massacre. A third TMZ reporter, this time with a bodyguard, and another cameraman, slowly walk into the bar. They approach TIO, who is sitting at the bar, sipping on a rum and coke.~
TMZ: Hey, TIO, how’s it going, buddy?
~TIO turns his head, not looking impressed.~
TIO: Don’t you guys learn?
TMZ: Wait, its a few hours before the show, and you said you’d be making a statement on all the High Octane Wrestlers coming to OCW.
TIO: I did... and I thought I’d be doing it at the show.
TMZ: We want to get the first word! So... what is the word?
~With a heavy sigh, TIO gulps the entirety of his rum and coke before turning to the reporter.~
TIO: I didn’t get a chance to react to the HOW carnage live like everyone else at Social Justice because I was busy recuperating from the Elimination Chamber. I found out the morning after when I woke up to see who Meyhu would be facing at Block Party, which also hasn’t been fully announced yet. Color me intrigued... anyway... Marcus Welsh is basically capitalizing on “Aptitude 2.0”. You got an OCW mainstay in Mario Maurako, and two outsiders in Mike Best and Max Kael. Mike Zybala isn’t an authority figure right now so he’s doubling down his solo authority for the time being. Maurako, Best, and Kael are just pawns in the chess game Welsh is playing – that’s all they are. Once Welsh gets a hold of better pieces or is near the end of the game, he’ll toss them aside like he did me and the Aptitude.
TMZ: Are you worried about being an afterthought with not just eMpire, but the rest of the HOW roster, like Darin Zion, Cecilworth M. Farthington, and more?
TIO: Pfft, an afterthought? No. I am an OCW Hall of Famer – there is no way I will fade into the back of the OCW roster – I am always in the forefront of OCW. Have you forgotten what my goal is right now in OCW? Capturing the OCW Championship, and that begins tonight when I defeat the Shadow in the opening round of the OCW tournament. eMpire can do their thing and I’ll do my thing and I’ll be none the wiser. However, if they try to get in my way and interfere in my plans to become the number one contender to the OCW Championship – that’s when shit will hit the fan and those HOW wrestlers will find out why I’m this damn incredible.
~Without saying another word to the TMZ reporter, TIO throws some bills on the bar counter, the bartender nods as TIO leaves the bar. The TMZ logo flashes up again before the video package ends.~
Smith: TIO, like so many OCW veterans is far from pleased with, what he calls 'Aptitude 2.0'.
Hood: How soon he forgets, Smith. The very treatment he, Meyhu, and CJ abused is the same treatment they are apparently offended by two years later.
Smith: A leopard does not change his spots, Hood. Marcus Welsh showed OCW in 2017 that he is willing to hot shot the next big thing to the top of OCW. He did it with Matt Meyhu. Could we be witnessing a repeat of history with Mike Best, Max Kael and Cecilworth Farthington?
Hood: M! YOU FORGOT THE M!
Smith: Ugh, fine...Cecilworth M! Farthington?
Hood: I believe so...Welsh knows where the money is at. Money begins with an M. The eMpire is set to rake in the cash for everyone involved.
Smith: Well, that remains to be seen. All I know is 'TBA' lingers on the poster for Block Party as Paul Paras' challenger...the longer it remains that way, the more uneasy I become.
Hood: Let's just say...let's just throw it out there...what IF TBA is Mike Best? What IF TBA is Max Kael? Hell, what if TBA is Mr. M himself, Cecilworth Farthingon. Would that be so fucking bad?
Smith: OCW is about competition, Hood. It's about EARNING YOUR PLACE. Yes, it would be bad. We all saw the mega push King Infinity received and he STILL had to go through Paul Paras, Vincent Langston, Alice Knight, Silver Cyanide, Mario Maurako, and Brianna Casablancas to earn a shot at the OCW Title. These three...if they are destined to claim that TBA slot would have walked in and received it.
Hood: Bitch all you want. But I'll say this...they wouldn't be there if they couldn't handle it.
Smith: Times are about to get turbulent, I think. But, in the meantime, let's focus on the now. Tag team action is set to begin and it starts with the debut of...The Dirty Birds!
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Tag Team Match
Dirty Birds (0-0) vs. Tornado Alley (0-1)
~We’re just about the midway point of Massacre’s in ring activity. The fans are nestled, in surprisingly quiet fashion. They have popcorn, sodas…lots of alcohol. It’s every OCW fan’s right to be able to get smashed while enjoying Online Championship Wrestling. Belvedere, who is NEVER smashed because his body is a fucking temple, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match schedule for one fall! Introducing first…
~“Respect the Wind” by Van Halen begins to play! The crowd gives a miniscule reaction, preferring to enjoy their concession items as Vortex, followed by Debris, make their way down the ramp!! Vortex is spinning around, arms extended while Debris drops trash, trailing his tag team partner. OCW officials, while rolling their eyes, follow the duo, picking up the trash that is left behind. Vortex rolls inot the ring and continues spinning around, once he reaches his feet. Debris, stepping into the ring, continues to drop trash. OCW officials rush to the ring and sweep the trash out, while following Tornado Alley around~
Belvedere: From the most dangerous current storm cell…Vortex and Debris…Tornado Alley!!!
~Vortex finally stops spinning. Debris stops dropping trash. The OCW officials are relieved, exiting the ring~
Smith: Tornado Alley back in action!
Hood: So does Debris just carry trash along with him all day?
Smith: There are some questions I cannot answer, Hood.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~The intro to Girlschool’s cover of ‘Bomber’ plays through the PA as the Dirty Birds come out onto the entrance ramp. Hayley the Raven throws up the horns with the first thud of the drums, and keeps them up until the second, which she signals with one quick headbanging motion~
~Once the song begins in earnest - and after some more headbanging from the Raven - the two Birds begin to make their way down the entrance ramp towards the ring. Hayley slaps nearby fans’ hands as she comes down, gesturing to the upper stands for encouragement. Ariel does not, simply staring ahead in seemingly unshakeable concentration. At length, Hayley gets carried away in the hype of the moment and runs ahead of Ariel down to ringside, slapping hands all the way. Her partner catches up to her near the ring steps, and the two make their way into the ring~
~Once inside, Hayley goes up on all four turnbuckles, throwing metal horns to the approving crowd, while Ariel simply stands in the middle of the ring, patiently waiting for her partner to get it all out of her system. It does not take long for this to happen, and Hayley quickly joins the older Bird in the centre of the squared circle, where the two wait for the bell, looking fired up and ready to go~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 271lbs…Ariel Shadows and Hayley Robinson…The Dirty Birds!!!
Smith: The Dirty Birds in action! Making their tag team debut!
Hood: I guess these two beat some respect into one another.
Smith: They always had respect. Perhaps that match simply provided the necessary push needed to form this potentially dangerous team.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: If The Dirty Birds hope to be a successful unit they’ll have to impress against Tornado Alley.
Hood: Conditions appear ripe for some harsh winds, Smith. Vortex is looking super violent this evening.
~We get a close up of Vortex. He looks like he always does~
Smith: Looks the same to me, Hood.
Hood: He’s a very reserved man, Smith. His angry face looks almost exactly like his resting face. But, let me tell you, that right there…that’s his angry face!
Smith: If you say so
~Hayley is starting things off for The Dirty Birds while VORTEX is getting things going for Tornado Alley. Hayley pauses and spots a sign in the crowd that reads “WE WILL QUACK YOU!” She points to the sign. The camera zooms in…it’s displayed on the OCW Tron. The crowd starts to chant “WE WILL – WE WILL…QUACK YOU!” Hayley nods along with the chant. Vortex begins to spin around, arms extended~
Smith: Interesting start to this one.
Hood: I told you Vortex was angry. Look at the velocity of that spinning motion. The guy is a FORCE
~Hayley manages to easily block Vortex’s spinning punch thing. She smacks him in the chest with a knife edged chop!! Vortex staggers back. Hayley secures Vortex in the clinch and begins to drill him repeatedly in the face with knee lifts. Vortex falls to his knees. Hayley leans forward and blasts Vortex in the chest with a forearm uppercut!! Vortex falls onto his back. The crowd goes wild…they are firmly behind The Dirty Birds~
Smith: Hayley looking great!
Hood: RELEASE THE QUACKEN
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Just thought I’d chime in on all this bird talk.
Smith: Please Hood, stick to commenting on Vortex and Debris.
~Hayley heads over and tags Ariel into the ring! The fans go wild! They love themselves some Ariel. Vortex returns to his feet. He tries to spin around but it’s very slow and uninspired. Hayley and Ariel leap into the air and drill Vortex with a double dropkick!! Vortex flies backwards, into his corner. Debris reaches out, tagging Vortex. He enters and goes after Ariel~
Smith: And here comes Debris!
Hood: The trashiest member of Tornado Alley
Smith: Well, yes…that…that is true.
~Debris throws a punch at Ariel. She blocks it and begins to pummel Debris with lefts and rights. As she does, trash falls off of Debris’ body (somehow). Scruff runs around, kicking the trash out of the ring. Ariel spins around and clocks Debris in the face with a roundhouse kick. A bunch of trash flies in the air. Scruff removes it from the ring. Debris hits the mat. Ariel hurries over and tags Hayley back in. Hayley is quick to re-enter. Ariel yanks Debris up, holding him in place. Hayley lunges forward and drills him with a superkick!! Ariel utilizes the momentum and picks Debris up, dropping him with a release backdrop suplex!!! Debris hits hard! More trash spills out. It’s cleaned up~
Smith: They call that move Birdemic!
Hood: Isn’t that the name of a really shitty movie?
Smith: I wouldn’t know. I only watch elite cinema.
Hood: Nerd
~Ariel yanks Debris back up. Hayley spins around with a discus lariat. As she connects with the discus lariat, Ariel takes Debris’ legs out with a leg sweep!! Debris lands HARD! A few tiny pieces of trash spill out of his pocket. Hayley jumps on top of Debris for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE DIRTY BIRDS!!!!!
Smith: Dominant win for The Dirty Birds! Maybe now Marcus Welsh will give them some recognition.
Hood: So Scruff just let both members hang in the ring long enough to hit not one but TWO moves?
Smith: He was busy picking up the trash. Blame Debris
Hood: Weak ass
Smith: And, by the way, The Dirty Birds call that finishing sequence Double Bird Salute!
Hood: Well, it certainly did the job.
Smith: Indeed it did…Hayley Robinson and Ariel Shadows taking their claim to the OCW tag team mountaintop…another tremendous team to keep an eye on as we move forward here in OCW!
~The camera cuts backstage at the OCW Arena, where interviewer AKB stands waiting with a microphone in hand. He’s in front of a metal door marked “eMpire”, awkwardly twiddling the microphone in his hands as he glances over to the camera, waiting for the door to open.~
~After a few seconds of silence, the door swings angrily open and AKB takes a half step backward, surprised. The man on the other side of the door is The Mouthpiece of the eMpire himself, none other than Mike Best.~
AKB: Mike, I was--
~Michael puts a steady hand in front of AKB’s face, making him flinch. He looks angry, and disheveled, after recently being on the receiving end of an attack in the opening moments of tonight’s show.~
Mike Best: I’m sorry, man whose name is fucking initials… is the media currently curious about what kind of relationship is developing between us? Did you recently cook me dinner in my Key West home, where we then watched movies and totally went back to backsies, bro? No? That’s because we’re not friends. You can call me Mr. Best.
~AKB tries not to roll his eyes, at least not in a way that is visible to the man that he’s interviewing. He complies, though with a slight amount of not-so-subtle sarcasm in his voice.~
AKB: Sorry, Mr. Best. I was wondering if I could have a minute of your time. Earlier tonight, the eMpire tried to launch an attack on Paul Paras, but the sudden arrival of Vincent Langston tu--
~A rage fills the eyes of the Zero Chill hero, just at the mention of the ruining of The eMpire’s little circlejerk earlier in the evening. His mood clearly has soured.~
Mike Best: Excuse me, tried to launch an attack? My friends and I were out having a… a celebration, and that fucking mutant Paul Paras blatantly and purposefully harassed and assaulted us. What we did out there was self defense, and Vincent Langston had no right to insert himself into our business and attack us with that chain. I’m contemplating pressing charges.
~AKB furrows his brow, like he’s just smelled a fart or watched a Pas de Duex promo.
AKB: I’m sorry, pressing charges? For an attack? At a wrestling show?
Mike Best: YES, AT A FUCKING WRESTLING SHOW. Was I dressed to compete? Did I have an agreement to fight Paul Paras tonight? No. I’ll fight him anytime, anywhere he wants, but not some… some sneak attack. I all but ended his HOW career 10 years ago, and I’ll do it again here, but as for what he and his little friend Langston did tonight? It’s despicable and I won’t say another word about it. Next.
~AKB attempts to ignore the obvious hypocrisy of literally everything that the eMpire co-leader just said, moving on.~
AKB: Rumors have been swirling lately about you and OCW Paradigm Champion Kitty Pe--
Mike Best: Hard pass, mind your own goddamned business. Next, before I break your fucking nose.
~Again, AKB seems to be getting nowhere with his line of questioning, but he continues.~
AKB: After a strong return to the ring last week against OCW Hall of Famer Big Bifford, you were pretty outspoken on social media about your desire to wrestle not once, but twice, both in High Octane Wrestling and here in OCW, next Monday night. That challenge was begrudgingly accepted by Madman Szalinski the same day, but you’ve been eerily silent since then.
~AKB points the microphone toward the subject of his impromptu interview. Michael looks irritated, but he smiles nonetheless-- like a shark, or a used car dealer.~
Mike Best: I wasn’t “eerily silent”. The crowd response to PerZag’s entrance is “eerily silent”. The awkward two minutes between The Lost Stranger having an orgasm and the police discovering the body are “eerily silent”. Let me tell you a little something, AKB-- “eerily silent” is what I’d like you to be for the next couple of minutes, because I’m going to talk and you are going to listen. Got it?
~AKB opens his mouth to answer, but Michael Best turns and meets his eyes with a decidedly cold, blank stare.~
Mike Best: Just. Listen.
~After another instant of shared silence, Best turns back toward the camera.~
Mike Best: Two weeks ago, I promised to herald my return to the ring after three long years with not just a match, but with THE match. I promised a decadent festival of physical violence that would set the tone for 2019, and I am nothing if not a man who keeps his promises. I came down to the ring and I put an end to an OCW Hall of Famer. To a former OCW World Champion. I wanted the biggest, baddest motherfucker in OCW to step to me.. And it turns out that he was wasn’t the biggest and baddest… he was just.. the biggest.
~Michael Best shakes his head, slowly. The cheap smile has left his face some time ago.~
Mike Best: I wanted a war, and instead, I got my name written on the side of a fish and all the payoff of a soft fart in loose sweatpants. I want the baddest motherfucker around, AKB, and instead I’ve been relegated to cutting down has-beens, one by one, and I will burn this entire company to the ground to get what I came for.
~Once again, the bastard son is smiling-- and it’s not pretend.~
Mike Best: Madman Szalinski-- the real Madman Szalinski-- and I? We go way back. Whoever the half a shithead walking around in his mask is these days, that’s of very little interest to me-- just like Big Bifford before him, I’m going to end a franchise and shit all over a legacy next week, and I’m going to do it in not one, but TWO FUCKING MATCHES across TWO DIFFERENT COMPANIES across TWO DIFFERENT TIMEZONES.
~He pulls the microphone away from AKB, now holding it in his own hands.~
Mike Best: You’ve had a lot of time to talk about being better than me, Madman. About how I cheat to win and you’re a pure as the white fucking snow “good little boy” who just wants to play jacks and drink malt sodas with his little PJ Mask crew. But on April 8, I’m gonna fucking hurt you, and since you care so much about the way I choose to wrestle? I’m gonna do it clean. And once I’m done with you, Madman, I’m coming for the fucking man himself. I’m coming for the baddest, because I know who he is and I know where he lives. No more Biffords. No more Madmen. No more relics of the past. After I conquer Madman Szalinski next week...
~Michael smiles, a dry smirk with furrowed brows as he stares intently into the camera. His voice softens, nearly to a whisper~
Mike Best: I’m coming for Meyhu.
~He hands the microphone gingerly back to AKB, turning and walking away without another word. AKB shrugs at the camera, looking at Michael Best as he walks down the hall and the camera cuts away~
Smith: He wants Meyhu, Hood!
Hood: Way to make it sound gay, Smith. But, yes...Mike Best wants...the best? Look no further than The Marvel!
Smith: Meyhu's got some personal issues going on as far as his OCW title shot is concerned. Do you think he'd entertain the idea of facing Mike Best?
Hood: You act as though he has a choice! This is Mike Best's world and we're all living in it, Smith!
Smith: Whatever...Matt Meyhu is an OCW icon. He's the foundation this company's current incarnation is built upon. He vanquished Scott Syren! If anything, this is Meyhu's world.
Hood: Hmm, well, I guess we're going to have to see what happens when world's collide.
Smith: I don't know what the future holds...all I know is Mike Best looks like a big game hunter and he's out for blood. The OCW roster...the OCW legends...the OCW mainstays had better keep an eye open for Mike Best and the eMpire.
Hood: They be fucked
Smith: Alright fans it's time for our next match this evening as Pas De Deux looks to notch the second win of their OCW career. They will take on the very talented, very confident team of Jason Kortare and Trav Morgan! Let's head down to ringside for what should be some exciting tag team action!
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Tag Team Match
Pas De Deux (1-0) vs. Jason Kortare/Trav Morgan (0-0)
Belvedere: Introducing first, At a total combined weight of 371 pounds, Princess Madwoman and Madman Szalinski II.. Pas De Deux!!!
~The lights dim. “Hood Tales” begins playing over the sound system. The lighting in the arena begins to alternate between red and blue. On the ramp, Madman II and Princess appear taking on near heroic poses. The fans pop for the young duo as the sprint down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans along the way~
~Once inside the ring a spotlight hits the two as they stand together in the middle of the ring. Madman throws his arms out to the side and yells while Princess spins upon one leg, like a ballerina. The two move to their corner as the song ends and the lights return to normal~
Belvedere: Their opponents, from Malibu, California, Trav Morgan and his tag team partner, by way of The Bronx, Jason Kortare! They are.. The Bachelors!!!!!
~"Welcome to the Party" By French Montana (Feat. Lil' Pump & Zhavia Ward) begins to blast over the P.A. system. Yellow and red lights begin to flicker on the stage. Trav Morgan comes from behind the curtain as he was dancing a little bit to the beat of his own theme music. He walks on the stage with his shoulder bouncing up and down as he grooves to the music. Walking down the ramp way, he stops in the middle of the ramp as he flexes his biceps and poses while flexing for the camera~
~Jason Kortare then walks out to the stage behind him with his head down and a towel hanging over his shoulders. He begins to shadow box with his fists aggressively on the stage. He makes his way down the ramp entrance way with Morgan, Kortare takes the towel off his shoulders and throws it into the crowd~
~Both men flex as they move towards the ring, Jason climbs up the ring post and steps into the ring. Climbing up the turnbuckle, he flexes his muscles once again in a pose, he makes his biceps bounce up and down with a grin as he steps down off the turnbuckle, Trav Morgan flexes for Princess Madwoman, She looks largely unimpressed by both men. Trav Morgan and Jason Kortare share a fist bump as the crowd begins to boo them. A loud Pas De Deux chant breaks out. Kortare and Morgan flex again and that chant turns to a succession of boos~
~Kortare and Madman lockup, Kortare uses his brute strength to shove Madman to the mat. He picks up Madman and delivers a hard scoop slam. Kortare steps on Madmans chest and decides to flex his muscles for a moment. He picks up Madman but is met with a couple of hard chops to the chest. Madman then whips Kortare into the ropes and hits a backdrop suplex. Madman tags in Princess Madwoman who perches herself on the top rope, Madman picks up a momentarily dazed Kortare, Princess Madwoman does a little ballerina pose on her tiptoes on the top rope before jumping and rocking Kortare with a hard knee strike from the top rope. Princess then tags Madman back in, They isolate Kortare in their corner and begin to both stomp away on him with kicks. They perch Kortare on the top rope and hit their patented double water wheel suplex from the top rope. The crowd explodes in support~
Smith: Kortare needs to make a tag!
Hood: As The Lockwoods found out last week, Pas De Deux is a lot to handle when they really get going!
~Madman whips Kortare into the far ropes and Trav Morgan smartly slaps his back, tagging himself in. Morgan jumps over the top rope and immediately hammers Madman with a stiff flying clothesline, sending him to the mat.~
Smith: Huge power from Trav Morgan!
Hood: Just about took Madman out of his boots with that one.
~Trav picks up Madman with ease and hits a double arm suplex before applying a crossface chicken wing. He cinches it in deep but Madman refuses to give up. Princess is in to try and make the save but is met by a missile dropkick from Kortare. Princess is down and Kortare begins to stomp away on Madmans chest while he is locked in the crossface chickenwing. Trav Morgan let’s go off the hold and he whips Madman into the corner where they begin to assault Madman with kicks and punches. Trav Morgan hits a scoop slam and Kortare goes to the top rope, hitting an impressive looking frog splash! Trav then goes for the cover.~
1..
2..
~Princess makes the save just in time, breaking up the pinfall with a kick to the back of Morgans head. This allows Madman enough time to scurry across the ring and make a tag. The crowd explodes as Princess Madwoman enters the ring, She does a little twirl and hit’s a swan kick to Kortare he falls through the ropes to the floor. She then smartly nails Morgan with a straight kick to the gut! This sends him falling off the apron to the floor as well.~
Smith: It’s time Hood! It’s time!
Hood: Time for what!
Smith: Oh you know!
~Princess looks at Madman and Madman looks back at her with a grin. The crowd gets raucous. Princess does a short spinning dance move into the waiting arms of Madman II near the ropes, She leaps into his arms, as he spins a little bit along with her, and he uses continuous momentum to monkey flip Princess over the top rope onto the other team outside of the ring! The crowd goes ape shit!~
Smith: Adagio! Adagio!
Hood: What does Adagio even mean?
Smith: I have the slightest idea what it means, but it sure is exciting to watch!
~Princess rolls Kortare back into the ring where Madman takes Princess by the hand, twirls her around into a rear waistlock, and uses a German suplex to assist Princess Madwoman with a devastating standing moonsault onto her opponent. At just the right time Kortare gets his knee’s up! This completely takes the wind out of Princess. Trav Morgan sneaks back under the bottom rope and hits a chop block to the back of Madman’s knee. Trav then hits a reverse DDT, briefly taking Madman out of the picture. Kortare and Morgan move in on Princess. Kortare picks her up and puts her in a full nelson while Morgan bounces his pecks up and down to a chorus of boos. From the full nelson position Kortare picks Princess up with ease and places her in a powerbomb position on Morgan’s shoulders. He holds her up in that position, showcasing his strength, The Bachelors hit a nice looking powerbomb/neckbreaker combo on Princess. Kortare goes for the cover.~
Smith: That was just brutal!
Hood: Huge feat of strength from Trav Morgan. The man is built like a brick shit house.
1..
2..
3…
~No! Princess barely manages to get a shoulder up but she does! Kortare and Morgan begin to argue with the referee when Princess rolls up Kortare.~
1..
2..
~Morgan kicks her in the back of the head, breaking up the pin attempt. Madman is back in his corner, Calling for the tag. Princess leaps across the ring and makes it. Madman is in and of fire, He begins to nail open handed strikes on Kortare and Morgan. Morgan is down in the corner and Madman hits him with a running flipping senton. Kortare comes up behind him and Madman hits a straight back kick to the gut. Madman drops to all fours and Princess leaps off his back with all the grace she can muster, hitting Kortare with a flying kick. The crowd goes wild!~
Smith: For the 2nd week in a row Pas De Deux has this crowd in the palms of their hands!
Hood: They are just unbelievable. You cannot take anything away from The Bachelors. Their strength has been put on display here tonight.
~Princess attempts a cover but she immediately distracted by a commotion at ringside. The Lockwood Party have emerged and taken seats right in the front row. Jack points a baseball bat in Madman’s direction and Tom is holding a sign that reads “Princess loves Tom”. The crowd begins to boo. Madman and Princess are both distracted by The Lockwoods at ringside when they are jumped from behind by The Bachelors.~
Smith: I don’t know what The Lockwoods are doing out here! But it’s a perfect opportunity for Jason and Trav to get the upperhand.
Hood: You don’t wanna give them an inch. Those two jacked up men will take a mile.
~Trav low blows Madman and drags him to the outside of the ring where he grabs him and launches him into the barricade. Kortare and Princess are legal in the ring as Kortare grabs Princess and hits a running powerslam. Kortare and Morgan are booed heavily as they showboat. With Madman incapacitated, Kortare tags in Morgan and they go to work on Princess. Tom Lockwood starts a loud “Princess” chant and the crowd chants along with him!~
Smith: I think Tom might be a little obsessed with that girl. He hasn’t taken his eyes off her the whole time.
~Trav picks up Princess into a torture rack, as he bends her body with it he smiles, His massive frame on full display. Trav, without putting Princess down, flips her over and she lands on Kortare’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry position. Kortare then lifts her into a gorilla press and holds her in the air for 10 seconds or so before dropping her on her face.~
Smith: They are just ragdolling Princess with ease.
Hood: That is sheer power.
~Madman gets up from the floor and immediately locks eyes with Jack at ringside. Jack pokes him in the face with the bat menacingly. Madman decides to save Princess instead of dealing with Jack as she is being double teamed in the ring. They kick and punch a helpless Princess as she lay on the ground. He comes in hot, hitting Kortare with a running bionic elbow. He turns his attention to Morgan and delivers a release northern lights suplex. He starts yelling at the crowd and they love it! Madman hits a standing moonsault on a downed Morgan. Princess is back up, Kortare is also back up, He is standing in his corner as Madman drops to all fours again, Princess leaps off his back and hits a huge spinning roundhouse kick on Kortare, knocking him off the apron. Madman places Morgan in a crossface and Princess hits a front dropkick to Morgan’s while he does. Madman goes for the cover.. Princess yells “Your not legal!” and they laugh. Madman goes to his corner, He and Princess make a huge show out of making the tag! Feigning like they won’t. The crowd loves the antics of Pas De Deux. Madman yells “Do it!!” They make the tag. Madman is in! Morgan is just getting to his feet.. Madman sets his opponent in the corner with a stiff kick as he yells "READY!" and steps back, downing into a three-point stance, he then yells "DOWN!". The crowd says each word with him! He yells “HUT HUT HUT” along with the crowd before charging towards Morgan, nailing him with repeated elbow strikes. Madman then tags in Princess~
Smith: We saw this last week!
~Madman II takes Princess by the hand, twirls her around into a rear waistlock, and uses a German suplex to assist Princess Madwoman with a devastating standing moonsault onto her opponent! Princess makes the cover and Madman cuts off Kortare as he tries to enter the ring to break it up.~
1..
2..
3..
Belvedere: Here are your winners, PAS DE DEUX!!!!
~The crowd goes wild! Kortare and Morgan console each other and head to the back. Once the bell has rung a spotlight hits the two as they stand together in the middle of the ring celebrating their win. Madman throws his arms out to the side and yells while Princess spins upon one leg, like a ballerina. Madman lifts her into the air by her waist and she poses when all of a sudden The Lockwoods hit the ring~
Smith: These heathens are seriously up to no good!
Hood: I knew they weren’t here just to watch the match.
~Jack nails Madman in the back with the baseball bat and he falls, dropping Princess as well. Jack begins to choke Madman with the bat while Tom moves in on Princess. Jack picks up Madman and holds the bat across his throat, making him watch Tom and Princess. Madman struggles but the more he does the less air he can breath. Jack yells at him to “stop trying to be a goddamn hero…” Tom backs Princess into the corner. He caresses her face and licks her cheek. Tom then rips off half of her ballerina outfit exposing her bra. He whispers in her ear “Don’t be scared! I just want something to remember you by.” She covers herself up as Tom backs off. He rubs his face in her garment creepily! Tom and Jack leave the ringside area through the crowd. Tom never takes his eyes off of Princess as they exit and Madman consoles his shaken partner~
Smith: That was absolutely weird.
Hood: Princess may just have an admirer in Tom Lockwood.
Smith: A very creepy admirer at that!
~The camera pans to the backstage area, revealing “The Handicapped Hero” Max Ironside sitting by himself, cross-legged on the floor in his ring gear with a black denim vest. He looks up as his fiancee Rayna holds out a bottle of water after opening the cap for him. There’s a scrap of paper in his hand with two phone numbers written on it and he folds it slowly, making sure to place it in the vest’s pocket without unbuttoning it to make sure it doesn’t get lost.~
Max Ironside: Just met the Dravers boys - you just missed ‘em. They were really nice. Said they were fans and they’d be happy to have my back if I need it. Hope they’re watching tonight. After...
~Max trails off, biting his lip to keep from unleashing a tirade of swear words. Rayna sits down next to him, resting her hand on his knee as she turns towards him, concerned.~
Rayna Barnes: After what? Did I miss something?
~He scoffs, shaking his head, unable to keep the disdain from his tone.~
Max Ironside: Vargas and the absolute horseshit he was spewing. Overheard him talking to that agent of his… Treat I think his name is? I’m gonna be hard-pressed to keep this professional, Bunny. He called me the r-word.
Rayna Barnes: Did he now? Maybe I should go have a little talk with him about the difference between differently-abled and… and…
Max Ironside: I’ve heard worse. Just the way he said it, you know?
~The look on her face is enough to melt steel beams - forget the jet fuel. Max grabs her hand with his good one.~
Max Ironside: Let me handle it. Please? If I can score the win tonight, that’s gonna go a long way towards proving I’m above these stupid little labels. Especially now that I know I’ve got allies in this locker room. Former champions on my side? That’s huge. That carries weight, even when it’s a supposed Hall of Famer spouting the hate speech.
Rayna Barnes: Hammer of Thor?
~He nods.~
Max Ironside: Absolutely. That’s the plan.
Rayna Barnes: C’mon, then.
~She nudges his shoulder.~
Rayna Barnes: Lemme walk you down there. For luck.
~Ironside gets up and holds out his good hand, pulling her to her feet. He lifts her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.~
Max Ironside: Don’t need luck. I’ve got my bunny foot right here.
~They move off down the hall, Rayna’s laughter echoing as they disappear from sight.~
Smith: Max is angry and who can blame him. Vargas went to a place a person should never wander.
Hood: Wal-Mart?
Smith: NO! He insulted Max's handicap.
Hood: Oh, that's it? Man up, buttercup.
Smith: Easy for you to say. Max Ironside will get the opportunity to silence Vargas and his loud, offensive mouth later tonight. But first, our third and final prelude in the form of tag team action. The Dravers are back in action taking on The Pretty Committee, next!
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Tag Team Match
The Dravers Boys (1-0) vs. The Pretty Committee (0-1)
~Belvedere stands in the ring, as is customary before a match…the fans are on their feet chanting “DRAVERS!” It’s clear they know who’s up next. These fans want their Dravers and they want them now! Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~Baby I'm worth it by Fifth Harmony hits as the fans drown out the song with loud boos, and catcalls. As a lone spotlight and red carpet appear to be rolling down from the entrance ramp as the paparazzi appears taking pictures. As out from the back steps Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis pose smugly for the camera. As they keep posing the flashbulbs go off. After they pose they make their way down to the ring taunting the fans as they strut like they are on a runway~
Belvedere: From a place far better than Key West, Florida. Comes the most fashionable, enchanting, bewitching, stunning, classy, and beautiful women to enter this or any other arena. Please welcome Wrestling Prettiest Tag Team Veronica Taylor, and Bianca Davis they are the First Class, The IT Girls of OCW. They are Wrestling Prettiest Tag Team The Pretty Committee!
~The voice over the pa just makes the boos grow louder, as they yell at the referee to lower the ropes for them. Nothing having their hands on their hips as they soon enter the ring one after the other. As they strut around the ring posing arrogantly in the center of the ring, as the fans greet the poses with loud boos. As they then blow kisses toward them waving as they lean in there corner leaning in a nonchalantly manner checking on their nails and makeup~
Smith: So arrogant.
Hood: Gotta love their style, Smith! These women are talented and they know it!
Smith: I have nothing against a confident female. Arrogance on the other hand, I can do without!
Belvedere: And their opponents…
~The Boys are Back by the Dropkick Murphys starts up and the twins emerge on stage with friendly smirks on faces. They then wander down the ramp, with Jonathan slightly ahead of Nathan. Nathan sings along to the theme. The boys also slap the hands of the closest fans. Upon reaching the ring apron the twins simultaneously leap over the top rope and climb the nearest turnbuckles and taunt the crowd in a friendly manner whilst the crowd cheer on~
Belvedere: From Denver, Colorado…at a total combined weight of 400lbs…they are former OCW Tag Team Champions…The Dravers Boys!!!
Smith: And here they are! Back in action for the second time this year!
Hood: Fuckin Dravers…they are so out of their element in this match. The Pretty Committee is WAY too hot for those two.
Smith: I beg to differ. Nathan and Jonathan have been known to keep the company of some beautiful women.
Hood: If you are alluding to Alice Knight I will punch you in the face so fucking hard
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds. We are ready to go~
Smith: It’s been nearly two years since the Dravers held OCW gold. A win tonight might put them at the top of that conversation.
Hood: Tag division is stacked like Aubrey Baxter. They need to get in line.
Smith: Considering they are FORMER champions, I’d think an exception could be made.
Hood: Talk about some WEAK ASS BOOKING
~Veronica Taylor is going to start things off for the PC. Nathan will do the initial fighting for the Dravers. Nathan claps his hands together, firing up the crowd. A ‘DRAVERS!’ chant sounds out. Taylor rolls her eyes. Nathan works his arms back and forth, limbering up while maintaining some fire. Veronica, standing in the center of the ring, takes this moment to pose and show off for all the fans. They boo~
Smith: These fans showing their displeasure.
Hood: Talk about tasteless! That’s a talented woman in the ring trying to give you your money’s worth! Show some damn respect!
Smith: Wrong. She’s making a mockery of this business, as usual.
~Nathan sees Taylor posing and points at her. He’s like “The hell is this?” Veronica is unaware, going through multiple seductive poses. Nathan walks up and taps her on the shoulder. Taylor spins around with a back hand, slapping Nathan across the face. Nathan stumbles to the side, holding his cheek. He looks at Veronica like, “Shit, that hurt.” Veronica is unapologetic. She lunges forward, going for Nathan’s eyes~
Smith: What a nasty woman!
Hood: Nasty woman? I think you need to see Deangelo Vickers.
Smith: She’s clawing at his eyes!
Hood: Maybe she saw an eyelash get stuck in one of them. You know how annoying that can be…she might be trying to rid Nathan of that annoyance.
~Veronica is, in fact, NOT reaching for an eyelash. She does a good old fashioned eye rake, sending Nathan stumbling into the PC’s corner. She throws some stiff side kicks into Nathan’s midsection. He’s subdued, hunched over in the corner. Taylor throws a knee, smacking Nathan right in the face. She reaches over and tags Bianca in. Bianca hops over the top rope, into the ring. She begins to smack Nathan in the face with several quickly thrown palm strikes~
Smith: Bianca Davis in the ring now as The PC has Nathan Dravers neutralized.
Hood: More like CORNERED.
Smith: Yes, that works.
Hood: It’s the perfect word to describe the situation, Smith.
~Taylor, back on the apron, continues to pose. Bianca delivers a knee strike right into Nathan’s chin. She pauses and dose a pose of her own. The fans continue to boo. A strong, pungent “BULLSHIT” chant fills the OCW Arena. Bianca and Veronica look at one another as if to say “Seriously?” They are aghast at the disgusting chant. Bianca tags Veronica back in. Davis whips Nathan out of the corner, directly into a spinning wheel kick from Taylor!!! Nathan falls back, hard. Taylor goes for the cover. Davis steps back onto the apron. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out by Nathan. He needs to get out of that corner.
Hood: These people can hate The PC all they want but the fact remains that these two women are ELITE.
Smith: Pompously elite, sure.
~Taylor screams at the top of her lungs in Scruff’s face. Scruff backs up like “Whoa, bitch! Calm down!” Taylor stands and stomps around the ring, angry they didn’t get the win. Jonathan, standing in his team’s corner, claps his hands and stomps his feet, trying to get the crowd to rally behind his brother. Another “DRAVERS!” chant fires up. Taylor looks around, her jaw tightens and she yells out “SHUT UP!!” The chanting only gets louder. Taylor reaches over and tags in Bianca. Veronica picks Nathan up and holds his arms back, giving Bianca a clear shot. Bianca lunges forward with a SUPERKICK!!! Nathan ducks!! Bianca is able to pull back, preventing her foot from smacking Taylor in the face. The duo share a moment of relief. Nathan pops up, grabs them both by the hair and knocks their heads together!! The crowd goes wild!! Taylor and Davis stumble around, dazed~
Smith: Yes! C’mon, Nathan! Tag in Jonathan!
Hood: So much for professionalism.
Smith: We’re allowed to have our favorites.
Hood: As a journalist? No sir, you are not.
Smith: Well, what about you?
Hood: Hey! I’m a color commentator. I’m paid to be colorful.
~Nathan, on all fours, starts to stand. Jonathan has his arm outstretched. Nathan stumbles that way. Taylor rushes forward, grabbing Nathan by the hair from behind. She jumps onto his back. Nathan continues to power walk his way closer to Jonathan. Davis rushes in, diving at Nathan’s legs, wrapping her arms around them. Nathan is frozen. He’s got Taylor on his back and Davis around his ankles. He extends his arm…Jonathan reaches out as far as he can…they are inches apart~
Smith: The PC doing what they can to prevent the tag!
Hood: The fuck is Nathan grimacing for? He’s got two perfect tens latching onto him. That’s fucking heaven, man!
~Nathan, realizing he can’t pull forward any further, falls backward, squashing Taylor!! Taylor yells out in pain, rolling around, clutching her stomach. Davis crawls on top of Nathan and goes for his face, gouging, poking, and ripping at each and every feature. Nathan does his best to avoid any injury. He sits up and tosses Bianca onto his shoulder. He stands and flips Davis across his shoulders…he then falls back with a Samoan Drop!! The ring shakes with impact! Nathan crawls forward, reaches out and tags in Jonathan!! The crowd goes wild!! Jonathan hops in, over the top rope and goes after The PC~
Smith: And here comes Jonathan!
Hood: Shit
Smith: What resiliency by Nathan to tag his brother in!
~Taylor gets to her feet and is knocked back down by a right hand from Jonathan. Davis gets to her feet and is smacked back down via a knife edged chop from Jonathan. Veronica stumbles back to her feet. Jonathan charges forward and clotheslines Taylor over the top rope to the floor! Veronica hits hard! This leaves Bianca in the ring. Jonathan heads over and tags in his semi-recovered brother, Nathan~
Smith: The Dravers are rolling now!
Hood: Look at that evil Jonathan going around beating up on women. What a dick!
~Nathan steps into the ring. He looks at Jonathan. Jonathan nods. Davis is on her feet, dazed. The Dravers Boys step forward in unison and nearly take Bianca’s head off with SEEING DOUBLE (Double Superkick)!!! Bianca flips backward, landing on the mat, roughly. Nathan makes the cover while Jonathan guards the ring from any disruption. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE DRAVERS BOYS!!!!!
Smith: Great win by The Dravers Boys! They are back to their old, championship form!
Hood: Fucking PC loses again. Sucks.
Smith: They fought hard and did their best…but the Dravers would not be denied.
Hood: I guess
Smith: The Dravers have to be in the tag team championship discussion. They have to be!
Hood: Geezus, calm the fuck down, man. If they continue to impress I’m sure they’ll get there.
Smith: Great win for the Dravers as they remain unbeaten since returning to OCW!
~Backstage, Ezra Rosenberg walks through the halls of the arena with a confident strut. As the agent of Matt Meyhu, he has been tasked with getting Meyhu the title shot he has earned. Ezra shoots finger guns in the direction of every lady he walks by.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Call me! I can make your dreams come true, baby.
Woman: Yeah. Maybe.
~This particular lady couldn't appear less interested. She rolls her eyes and keeps her distance. Ezra smiles wide. He approaches the locker room of “The Marvel” and spots a sign on the door: “Do Not Enter Unless You Are Offering Me My Title Shot.”~
Ezra Rosenberg: I don't mean to brag, but, I think it's safe to enter!
~Ezra pushes the door open and enters the room, closing it behind him. After a few seconds of muffled discussion, the door flings open and Ezra is sent flying out. The door slams shut as Ezra slams into the wall.~
Ezra Rosenberg: Isn't a maybe as good as a yes?
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: The Marvel is not in a good mood.
Hood: You know that moment when the only child becomes a sibling? I think Meyhu's going through that. For years this has been his place...he's been THE MAN. Now, suddenly, the core is shifting. I don't think he likes it.
Smith: Death March seemed to mark the beginning of a new era in OCW with the coronation of Paul Paras. Ironically, Meyhu's legendary coronation took place that evening when he vanquished Mr. OCW himself, Scott Syren. However, since that moment Meyhu has seen his stock drop, albeit ever so slightly.
Hood: You know you're great when being the #1 contender fresh off a win in the most competitive match in company history equals STOCK DROPPAGE
Smith: Indeed
~Friday the 13th starts to play as TLS appears on the ramp. He’s not wearing any facepaint or the Stranger mask. The fans are indifferent about his arrival. TLS starts to make his way to the ring~
Hood: here he is again Smith. I wonder what nonsense he is going to talk about this week.
Smith: Maybe we should give him a break Hood, he just found out his father died.
Hood: Not his biological Father…
~A bloody tampon is flung in TLS’ direction as he dodges it, it lands on the floor~
Smith: Was that a bloody tampon?
Hood: That might explain why the women in the crowd are so grumpy tonight. Must be that time of the month.
~TLS slides under the ring and retrieves a mic from a ring crew member. He pulls the mic up to his lips as a smattering of boos come from a group of women in pink knitted beanies~
Smith: I still don’t understand why women are booing him. We found out the reason he doesn’t want to fight women was because of the trauma he experienced of seeing his mother physically and emotionally abused by his father.
Hood: Well maybe they just don’t like him.
TLS: it’s times like these that…
~His mic suddenly gets cut off~
Smith: I can’t make out what he’s saying. His lips are moving but I can’t hear anything.
Hood: I always knew he was lip synching his promos. This is so reminiscent of Ashley Simpson on SNL. Pretty soon he’s going to start dancing.
Smith: I highly doubt it.
~TLS motions for a new mic from a ring crew member. He checks that it is on and begins to speak again~
TLS: The OCW has become…
Hood: looks like the mic went out again.
Smith: It’s so weird. Seems like we are experiencing some technical difficulties. I’m getting word from the back that we are going to have to cut to commercial as they sort this thing out.
Hood: we didn’t even get to hear what TLS had to say.
Smith: It’s as if someone is deliberately cutting his mic off.
Hood: Oh stop it with your conspiracies.
~TLS is informed by a ring crew member that his segment is cut short. TLS shakes his head and drops the mic. He exits through the crowd~
Smith: TLS has a message to deliver...unfortunately, it's being blocked by...someone.
Hood: Freedom of speech evidently has a limited reach.
Smith: TLS will compete in the second round of the Block Party tournament two weeks from today...his opponent, Matt Meyhu.
Hood: He be fucked.
Smith: And, as if that weren't enough...he's scheduled to compete in HOW's tournament within the next few weeks.
Hood: I admire a man willing to expose himself to varying audiences in an effort to deliver a very important message.
Smith: Sure
~The screen suddenly flashes to black, then a moment of static, and then to the image of The Big Bifford and a newly released-from-prison Earl the Popcorn Salesman standing around catering. Bifford is eating a honey baked ham like its an apple, palming it in his hand and raising it to his mouth. His MAGICAL FLEECE seems to blow in the wind, even though they're inside~
Earl: Yeah they were pretty nice in French Prison... they treat you decently over there... Food wasn't bad.
Bifford: Glad to hear it... I know when I was in prison here for being a serial killer, there was no delicious ham... it was the worst few months of my life...
~Bifford drops the ham as he looks off camera. He runs to the catering table and grabs a plastic knife and holds it up with Earl stepping in to hold him back. Kenny the Intern walks over to them~
Bifford: I'm gonna plastic-knife your throat...
Kenny: Listen... Bifford... I was having emotional trauma.. I'm sorry... please don't stab me..
Earl: Yeah man... that fish put us all through some serious trauma... I mean, you lost your match to Mike Best...
Bifford: I did no such thing... I won...
Earl: Nah, man... you got pinned.
~Bifford just glares at Earl for a moment, then he lowers the plastic knife~
Bifford: Okay but I'm evicting your aunt and uncle from their house that I somehow own..
Kenny: NO! You already freakin' burned down my house... and I rent...
~Bifford just glares at Kenny~
Bifford: Okay but if you ever manage to get a girlfriend, I'm gonna have sex with her... gross weird sex...
~Kenny just sighs and nods and Bifford appears pleased~
Earl: So next week is your tournament match... you can get your win-streak back after losing to Meyhu and Best..
Bifford: I prefer to think of myself as undefeated...
Kenny: That's because you're ins-...
~Kenny stops himself and looks nervous~
Bifford: What was that?
Kenny: Insanely talented!
Bifford: That's right.. now Kenny, go find me some toilet bowl cleaner and let's find The Lost Soul.. I wanna mess with that fucker...
~The three men then walk off as though nothing horrible has happened to them over the past two weeks. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Bifford coping with last week's loss in his own, Bifford like manner.
Hood: That was a tough one...but, hey, he's got a shot to bounce back next week.
Smith: Indeed...Bifford is a #1 seed in the Silverfreak Bracket which means he's one of the favorites to win the whole thing!
Hood: I may be crushing on Mike Best...but Biff is still my boy.
Smith: An OCW original through and through! Alright fans, speaking of the Block Party tournament...it's time for tonight's tournament action to begin!
Hood: Finally! Feels like we've been here for fucking ever.
Smith: Patience, Hood. Tonight we feature the Scott Syren bracket. Eight talented wrestlers will do battle with only four advancing into the second round. Let's take a look at tonight's bracket!
Smith: Sounds crazy...but that might be the toughest bracket yet!
Hood: Really depends on how talented these 'outsiders' are.
Smith: Indeed...we'll get to the outsiders later this evening. First up is the feel good story, Max Ironside taking on the very nasty, mean and vile Chad Vargas. Can Max upset the #1 seeded Vargas?
Hood: For his sake, let's hope not
Smith: That match is next!
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Scott Syren Bracket – 1st Round
(1) Chad Vargas (30-7) vs. (8) Max Ironside (2-0)
~The OCW fans have their brackets OUT. It’s TOURNAMENT TIME! Thus far nothing but higher seeds have advanced…for the fans picking upsets, this is terrible news. For basic bitches going with the higher seeds in every match…this is totally awesome. People share their brackets, discussing who they think will win and why. One fan, sporting a confederate flag, shows the official ‘CHAD VARGAS BRACKET!’ It features Vargas winning every match in every bracket during every round…quite the anomaly. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen…the following match is a first round contest in the Scott Syren bracket!!! Introducing first…
~The lights flash wildly enough to cause seizures and Max runs out, high energy in time with the chugging guitar. He looks happy to be here, to be competing in the ring and he shares that joy with every last person on the way down to the ring, high-fiving and slapping hands with fans along the ramp~
Belvedere: From Battle Creek, Michigan…standing 5’5 and weighing in at 155lbs…Max Ironside!!!
Smith: It’s been awhile since we’ve seen Max! He looks great!
Hood: Too hyper for me…guy needs to calm down, stop enjoying life so much.
Smith: He has a reason to enjoy life, Hood. He’s overcome tremendous odds to be here!
Hood: Haven’t we all…I don’t know about you but I seem to remember beating like a million other sperm in the ultimate race of life or death!
Smith: I highly doubt you remember that and, if you do, you should probably seek counseling.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Needle and the Spoon” by Lynyrd Skynyrd begins to play in a very southern sounding way. Chad Vargas, The Confederate Icon, emerges from backstage with one half of the OCW Tag Team Championships over his shoulder. He lowers the shades over his eyes down the bridge of his nose, staring out at the crowd. They give him a mixed reaction. Vargas cocks half a smile before marching down the ramp talking shit to anybody wearing something he might construe as ANTI SOUTHERN~
Belvedere: From Everclear County, Tennessee…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 245lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions…he is “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas!!!
~Vargas hops onto the apron and quickly enters into the ring. He raises his arms in the air talking a bunch of shit to anybody within earshot. Belvedere stands, patiently. Vargas turns, spots him and hands over his tag title “There ya go, Belvedere! Now get the fuck out of my ring!” Vargas yells. Belvedere has no reaction. He steps through the ropes and exits, carrying Chad’s belt. The bell sounds~
Smith: A very animated Chad Vargas this evening.
Hood: He’s always like this…it’s the Vargas SWAG
Smith: I guess
~Vargas has NO compassion for anyone, anything…save maybe David Duke or whoever is the favorite to win this year’s Daytona 500. He looks Max’s way and shakes his head. He says “I gotta wrestle a fuckin cripple? Look at this guy!” Max takes Chad’s derision in stride…it’s not the first, nor will it be the last time he’s mocked for pursuing his dream. Vargas suddenly reaches for his back and acts like he’s hurt and/or crippled. The fans BOO!! Max wears a puzzled expression~
Smith: Chad impersonating what he thinks Cerebral Palsy looks like
Hood: Is that what a person with Cerebral Palsy looks like?
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood.
Hood: Yea man, he looks like an old guy with a bad back.
~Vargas continues to play it up. The boos increase. Ironside has had enough. He runs at Chad. Vargas, hearing the footsteps, turns around. Max lunges at Chad, looking for a Slingblade…he fakes Chad out, however, releasing the hold in midair, landing behind Vargas and dropping him with a backstabber!!! Vargas arches his back in pain!! Max pops back to his feet!! The fans are going wild~
Smith: Yes! Way to go, Max! Give that jerk Vargas something to really complain about!
Hood: Hey, just because Max is a cripple doesn’t mean he needs to go around crippling The Confederate Icon!
Smith: That’s what Vargas gets for being so inconsiderate.
Hood: Oh fuck off…this is pro wrestling, not days of our lives.
~Max hits the ropes. Vargas sits up, reaching for his back (for real this time). Max charges at Chad…he throws a kick…it isn’t a very convincing attempt. Vargas leans back. Max keeps running without breaking stride. He hits the opposite ropes, cones off and jumps into the air. Vargas sits back up but has no time to turn around…so, he eats a dropkick right into his spine via Max Ironside!!! Vargas writhes around, kicking his legs, reaching for his back. “MAX!” chants begin to fill the OCW Arena~
Smith: Max Ironside is focusing his offense on Chad’s back!
Hood: A very Judas type offense
Smith: Hey, Vargas gave him the target, Hood via his pre-match mockery.
Hood: I think that’s just how Chad jokes…he was trying to make friends with Max and Max, being the thin skinned cripple that he is, took offense.
~Vargas winds up on his front…Max takes Chad’s back and looks to apply a camel clutch. Vargas has a look that says “Oh hell no.” He gets to all fours. Max’s lack of size is coming into play. He jumps up and comes down, bringing his ass into Chad’s back!! This stymies Chad’s rise…only momentarily. Vargas rises, quicker this time. Max jumps up, looking to bring his ass back into Chad’s back…Vargas uses the temporary weight relief to pop to his feet and catch Max on his way down…he’s got control of Max, holding onto him like a backpack. He manages to toss Max to the side, trying to snare Ironside’s legs under his left arm…Max, though, uses his superior agility to swing his lefts from Chad’s left side to his right. The momentum shift catches Vargas off guard…Max lands on his feet, shoulder to shoulder with Vargas. He hooks Chad for a Russian Leg Sweep! Vargas stomps on Max’s left foot! He gains control! The crowd rises~
Smith: The Stroke! Chad’s in position to hit the Stroke!
Hood: Fucking Ironside just GAVE him the match!
Smith: He hasn’t hit it yet!
~Max throws a right jab into Chad’s right ribcage, stunning the former OCW Champion. Max spins around and smacks Chad in the chest with a discus lariat!! Chad remains standing…Max, with his arm still on Chad’s chest, hooks Vargas and falls backward, taking him down with a Reverse Russian Leg Sweep!!! The crowd goes wild!! Max rolls Chad over and goes for the pin~
1!
HUGE KICK OUT!
Smith: Whoa! An angry Confederate Kick Out!
Hood: Vargas HATES that move. Max probably just pissed him off.
Smith: Yes, Chad has fallen victim to a variation of that move a time or two in the past.
Hood: Doesn’t help Max is using that gimp looking arm for offense
Smith: How dare you say such things!
~Ironside pops back to his feet. He isn’t discouraged…the young, positive man can sense opportunity!! He hits the ropes. Vargas gets to one knee. Max charges at The Confederate Icon…Vargas reaches out, grabs Max by his right arm and tosses him across the ring with an arm drag!!! Max hits the ring hard and instantly clutches at his right arm~
Smith: Hey!
Hood: Vicious arm drag
Smith: That’s Max’s bad arm!
Hood: So? He should cut the damn thing off if it bothers him so much.
~Vargas returns to his feet and stalks the wounded Ironside. He reaches down…Max is on his side, keeping his right arm away from Chad. Vargas reaches over, trying to grab Max’s right arm…Max fights him off with his left. Chad is relentless. He stomps his boot into Max’s ribs! Ironside seems temporarily paralyzed giving Vargas a window to reach in and snare Ironside’s right arm. The crowd is booing every second of this. Vargas drags Max into the center of the ring via his right arm~
Smith: C’mon! Show some humanity!
Hood: Dude you go in there with a handicap and it’s going to be exploited.
Smith: I know but this…surely Vargas doesn’t have to resort to this to defeat Max Ironside if, ya know, he’s the champion he wants us all to believe he is.
Hood: Oh fuck off…how do you think Vargas reached the top, anyway? By doing shit like this.
~Chad, with full control of Max’s arm, looks down at the smaller, prone Ironside. Max isn’t begging, he isn’t pleading, he’s trying to figure out a way to wiggle free. Chad quits wasting valuable time and twists Max’s arm while maintaining control of the wrist and elbow. Max yells out in pain~
Smith: This is just…I can’t stand for this type of offensive.
Hood: I guess it’s a good thing we’re seated, then.
Smith: You know what I meant!
~Chad continues to twist and pull and wrench away at the weak arm of Max Ironside. The crowd boos. They chant “BULLSHIT!” a few tell Vargas to “FUCK OFF!” Chad twists and pulls harder with each insult hurled his way. It’s fuel for the Confederate Icon…a man that thrives off of the humiliation and embarrassment of others~
Smith: Listen to these fans…I don’t think we’ve ever had a man more LOATHED in OCW!
Hood: I don’t know, man. People really fucking hated that Gavin Reed guy.
Smith: It isn’t nice to speak ill of the dead, Hood.
~Vargas takes things up a notch by driving his knee into Max’s extended, twisted arm. Ironside yells out. He raises his hand, acting as though he’s on the verge of tapping. The fans urge him to hold on. Vargas repeatedly rams that knee into his arm. The pain is excruciating. Scruff looks on the verge of stopping the match~
Smith: The kid has fight…he’s got heart, but if Scruff were to stop the match I don’t think anyone would blame him.
Hood: Vargas might…he’s having fun!
Smith: Ugh, disgusting
~Ironside, realizing he’s close to defeat, digs down deep. He gets to one knee. Vargas continues to twist the weak arm of Max. Max gets to his feet. Vargas, while holding onto the arm, clobbers Max in the back with a forearm. He then says, “Give it up, Matt. Give it up!” Max reaches back, grabbing Vargas by the head (using his good arm) and pops him with a stunner!!! Vargas lets go of Max and flies backward, landing on his back. The crowd goes wild! Max, holding his wounded arm, yells out “IT’S MAX!”~
Smith: That’s right! It’s Max Ironside! It’s not Matt…it’s not Mike…IT’S MAX!
Hood: Hey we’re all prone to error, Smith. Vargas is a veteran, he’s had a lot of head injuries…he can’t be expected to remember every person’s name!
Smith: You’d think he’d at least get the name of his opponent correct.
Hood: Hey, at least he fucking mentioned his opponent!
~Vargas fights to his feet…he’s showing the effects of Max’s stunner. Max leaps up and nails Vargas with a dropkick!! The crowd is on fire! Vargas drops to the mat, but gets back up again only to get hit with another dropkick!! Vargas gets up a third time…and, you guessed it, he eats a THIRD dropkick! This one, however, sends Vargas into the nearest corner…he staggers back, leaning against the buckles. Ironside charges in, leaps into the air and dropkicks Vargas into the corner!! Vargas stumbles forward…Ironside hits the ropes and drills Vargas in the face with Han-decapitation!!! Vargas flips over, landing front first on the mat!! The impact is tremendous!! The fans go wild! “MAX! MAX!” they know his name!! Ironside pops to his feet and looks down at Vargas…he then looks at his handicapped hand and shakes his head. He heads for the nearest corner~
Smith: Max is going for it all!
Hood: I thought that was his finisher…
Smith: It is…but, he’s looking to put that exclamation point on Vargas. He wants to make Vargas pay for his derision and attitude toward handicapped individuals.
Hood: Shit, man…this could be a huge mistake.
~Ironside reaches the top. He looks down at Vargas and leaps off with a diving fist drop using his handicapped hand. VARGAS MOVES! Max jams his handicapped hand right into the mat!! He writhes around, kicking his feet in pain. The crowd is crestfallen. They sigh with disappointment. Vargas tries to get to his feet, but his nose is busted, his eyes are glazed…the knee to the face looks to have concussed him~
Smith: Vargas might be seeing double!
Hood: Max fucked him up…but, unfortunately for Max, he got greedy and he’s in trouble.
Smith: Max was looking for that poetic ending…sadly, it was not meant to be – yet.
Hood: When will these youngsters learn…LIFE IS NOT A FUCKING DISNEY FILM.
~Chad focuses, as best he can. He reaches down and grabs Max by the hair and hooks him for THE STROKE. Ironside spins around, finding a hole within Chad’s typically vice-like grip. He spins around, leaps up and drops Vargas with a double knee armbreaker!!! Vargas remains on his feet, hunched over, clutching his arm. Max takes him down with a schoolboy!! The crowd rises…they count along with Scruff~
1!
2!
3!
NOOOO!
Smith: Vargas kicked out at the last second!
Hood: Max Ironside nearly scored the upset of the tournament!
Smith: Indeed…he hit Accessible Parking and nearly eliminated The Confederate Icon!
Hood: That would have busted Chad’s bracket!
~Vargas returns to his feet after kicking out, holding his arm and saying “FUCK!” loudly. Blood leaks from his nose to the mat. Max pops back up and pumps his left hand toward the crowd…they chant “MAX!” repeatedly. Ironside runs for the ropes…he jumps up, springboards off the middle rope with a back elbow. Chad raises up, catches Max on the way down and drops him with THE STROKE!!! The fans are instantly heartbroken!! Max is face down. Vargas rolls him over and makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner… “THE CONFEDERATE ICON” CHAD VARGAS!!!!!
Smith: Dang it!
Hood: Whew…that was close.
Smith: Max Ironside nearly scored the win of his career!! I thought he had it!
Hood: He took his eyes off Vargas and it cost him. You can never let The Confederate Icon out of your sight.
Smith: Indeed…one might argue Max…as crazy as this sounds, blew his shot at winning tonight during two sequences. The first was a desired exclamation point that wound up backfiring. The second was turning his back to Vargas while attempting to execute springboard back elbow.
Hood: Yea man Vargas is a fucking beast. You cannot take your eye off him…you have to pin him when he’s down. Lessons I’m sure Max will learn.
Smith: He may have lost but I think we all saw tonight that Max Ironside is a serious threat in OCW.
~A hunched and hooded figure sits at the end of the hallway that leads to the talent locker rooms, the light from the monitor on an adjacent table illuminating the faded and vintage HOW logo on the left side of the chest, near the zipper. Identity unknown, the person is clearly fixated on the screen and the in-ring action playing out on it. At the sound of footsteps in the corridor behind, the hooded figure shoots to her feet, the hood falling back to reveal dark hair and the defensively narrowed eyes of the Paradigm Champion, Kitty Petrova. Her hands are in fists that relax in time with the sigh she lets out when she realizes who's standing there.~
Kitty Petrova: Michael...
~His name leaves her lips with the softest whisper before she remembers herself and that cocky smirk is back in place on her lips as she stares up at Mike Best. There is an odd look of excitement in the eyes of the eMpire co-leader, as he realizes just whom he's stumbled upon. He looks behind him, and then around the rest of the hallway, before finally noticing the camera that is looking directly at them. Michael's excitement at seeing Kitty quickly turns to a privacy-violated frown.~
Kitty Petrova: We have to stop meeting like this or people are going to talk.
~She rolls her eyes on the heels of that statement, letting out a soft chuckle to soften the words.~
Mike Best: I think people are already talking. Can't grab a drink with a friend around here without someone taking a fucking picture on an iPhone. Fucking vultures.
~He shuffles his feet, one eye still perched on the camera that is watching this play out. Perhaps he'd be a little less vague if it weren't watching, but the Zero Chill Hero clearly has zero chill when it comes to the camera prying into this particular… affair.~
Kitty Petrova: I see you and the boys have been busy tonight. I'm impressed, sweetie. The eMpire are actually making those troglodyte fans not just want but need to be in their seats the moment the show goes live. I certainly hope you're going to get a bonus for the ratings boost.
~She leans her hip against the table, reaching up to toy with the hoodie's zipper before slowly lowering it to reveal the form-hugging plain black tank top she has on underneath. Michael dry-swallows, hard, forgetting the cameras for a moment as he stares at the dangerous but beautiful warrior in front of him. Kitty is clearly amused, having gotten the reaction she was looking for, as she goes on.~
Kitty Petrova: Trying to stay under the radar, myself. Just doing a little reconnaissance on the Dirty Birds. What with that eventual defense I have looming and all.
~He suddenly snaps to attention, his eyes raising back up to meet hers as he looks stirred.~
Mike Best: Oh what? Yeah, Dirty Birds. What a bunch of cunts, right? Best defense is a good defense and… uh… yeah, title defenses. Tough stuff.
~The Paradigm Champion covers her mouth, stifling laughter at his obvious distraction, making it clear that she's aware of their audience and can't resist toying with him~
Kitty Petrova: So....
~Michael almost says the same thing, catching himself at the last minute. Kitty blushes and looks away, letting that confidence slip for just a second.~
Kitty Petrova: You wanna skip out on the rest of this shitshow with me? Maybe grab a bite? I don't know about you, but I'm starving.
~Michael eyes the camera again, trying to signal to Kitty with his eyes that they're still being watched. He clears his throat.~
Mike Best: You know, I should really be here just in case, you know… I mean The eMpire has a lot of…
~He looks at the camera again, but the expression on his faces changes from apprehension to annoyance.~
Mike Best: Fuck it. Let's get the hell out of here. I could… eat.
~He turns toward the camera man, clearly over this shit, as he extends a hand and stiff arms the camera backward. It careens backward, colliding against the floor with a crash and a skid. The camera is now out of focus, staring sideways at the shoes of Michael Lee Best and Kitty Petrova as they walk together out of the frame.~
Smith: The relationship between these two continues to evolve.
Hood: Kitty's middle initial must be M.
Smith: I don't know about that...I just know these two adults seem to enjoy one another and there isn't a thing wrong with that.
Hood: Yea unless you sell out your bros. Don't make me say it, Smith.
Smith: I won't.
Hood: BROS BEFORE HOES, SMITH! Fuck...you just had to make me say it.
Smith: How did I...you know what, never mind. If those two were to become a couple, talk about power. Although...given where Kitty is currently placed and where Mike seems headed...you could, one day...potentially see a Kitty/Mike Best main event...
Hood: And this is why your application to host love connection was rejected.
Smith: Still hurts, after all these years. Anyway...moving on! Our second match in the Scott Syren bracket is up next as OCW Champion PerZag takes on 4CW Hall of Famer, Bronx Valescence. Bronx stepping into an OCW ring has everyone talking...let's see if he's as good as his reputation.
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Scott Syren Bracket – 1st Round
(4) PerZag (13-10) vs. (5) Bronx Valescence (0-0)
~There is a unique vibe in the air. The OCW Arena seems anxious about something. It isn’t their usual “oh yea, shit’s about to go down!” vibe…oh no, something truly out of the ordinary is about to corrupt the innocuous ecosphere. A serious threat waits behind that curtain…a man always viewed as an enemy to the OCW flag. He’s here. He’s signed to compete. He has a chance to earn a shot at the OCW Title. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a first round match in the Scott Syren bracket!! Introducing first…
~There is a near hush that comes over the OCW Arena. Even the drunkest of fans pauses, hesitates, curious to see if this man has really shown up to compete. Was it all a ruse? A mere marketing ploy? SURELY the man known as BRONX isn’t REALLY going to compete in OCW?~
Smith: Is he here, Hood?
Hood: You act like I’m in cahoots with the guy or some shit. Why don’t you calm the fuck down and find out in a few seconds like the rest of us!
~The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp~
Belvedere: Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at 205 pounds…He is BRONXXXX…VALLLLLESSCENNNNCEEEEEEEEEE!
~When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Opening his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit~
Smith: He’s here!
Hood: I can’t believe my fucking eyes
Smith: Was cursing really necessary there?
Hood: Don’t judge my lips, Smith.
~Bronx remains seated, staring at the entrance ramp. The fans are HYPED. THERE HE IS! A ‘BRONX’ chant sounds out…these fans are MARKING out for his appearance inside an OCW ring~
Smith: We may not mention what happens in other promotions all that often…but there’s no denying the accomplishments…the achievements this man has collected throughout his illustrious career.
Hood: He’s a beast, Smith. He could win the whole fucking tournament.
Smith: Indeed…but, tonight, he starts with no easy task. He starts his potential run against a former OCW Champion.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The lights of the arena go out. All that is seen is a small glow of light from the entrance ramp. ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ by Survivor starts to play over the PA system. A hooded figure walks on to the entrance ramp. The lights come back on as the hooded figure stands still on the stage. The hooded figure walks down to the ring slowly. He gets into the ring and stands in the centre of it. He slowly removes the hood and the crowd gives a mixed reaction to him. 'Eye Of The Tiger' by Survivor stops playing as PerZag walks over to a corner in the ring and crouches down near it~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…from Benalla, Victoria, Australia…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 216lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is…PerZag!!!
Smith: Bronx hanging high…PerZag laying low.
Hood: You trying to say that means something?
Smith: I don’t know, the image just struck me.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds. The crowd pops~
Smith: And here we go!! Last week PerZag was tasked with facing HOW legend Max Kael. This week, another legend…the man known as Bronx.
Hood: Who did PerZag piss off to draw such a tough first round opponent?
Smith: Luck of the draw, Hood. Luck works both ways.
~Bronx hops off the top rope, landing on the mat. PerZag slowly rises. Both men are ready for competition. The two approach one another. The fans are on their feet, anxious to witness the man known as Bronx compete inside an OCW ring. PerZag lunges forward, not wasting any time, looking for a tie up. Bronx ducks PerZag, pops up behind PerZiggityZag and ruffles his hair. PerZag turns around, his hair all disheveled and out of place. Zag’s got a look of fury contorting his face while Bronx shrugs and hops around, showing the playful confidence he’s known for exuding~
Smith: What makes Bronx so good isn’t just his ability…it’s his attitude. He’s got so much confidence and it shows in high profile matches.
Hood: PerZag hates shit like that. This Bronx guy needs to be careful…PerZag might fuck him up. Just like he did that Great White Shark.
Smith: What?
Hood: Yea man, PerZag was catching some waves down under. A giant Great White…not as big as The Meg, but close, tried to eat him. However, Zag wasn’t having any of that shit so he beat the fuck out of that shark, sending him back into the abyss.
Smith: That sounds awfully fishy to me.
Hood: Nice.
~Bronx is near a corner, continuing to give off the impression he’s taking this match relatively light. PerZag runs his hand through his hair, attempting to put it back into place. This man is a professional. He charges at Bronx and leaps into the air, looking for a splash. Bronx darts out of the way!! Zag lands on the middle buckle. Bronx turns around, expecting a stunned Zag. Zag leaps off the middle buckle and spins around with a dropkick! He nails Bronx right in the face!! Bronx falls to the mat, holding his chin. Zag returns to his feet, looking down at Bronx who reaches up with his right arm, stunned and apparently reaching for some sort of life line~
Smith: There’s that freakish athleticism shown by PerZag!
Hood: Bronx wasn’t expecting that, Smith. I like Zag and all but I’m secretly pulling for Bronx.
Smith: I don’t think announcing that on air is very secretive.
Hood: Shit
~Zag grabs Bronx by his extended arm. He pulls Bronx to his feet, looking for a short arm clothesline. Bronx ducks! Bronx hits the ropes…Zag turns around….Bronx bounces off the ropes and leaps into the air with a knee! It smacks PerZag right in the face!! The former OCW Champion staggers backwards…he hits the ropes and falls through them, onto the apron! The crowd pops for the high impact, sudden nature of Bronx’s offense. Bronx shakes off Zag’s dropkick and heads toward the ropes~
Smith: What impact!
Hood: Bronx is apparently a shark fan…out here defending the honor of that pummeled Great White.
Smith: For the last time, PerZag did not beat up a great white shark!
Hood: You calling Zag a pussy?
~Bronx steps up, onto the middle rope and reaches down, trying to grab Zag by the hair. PerZag reaches up and rakes Bronx across the eyes. This draws BOOOS from the crowd. Scruff is like “hey, not cool, man!” But, he’s not going to DQ PerZag over something stupid like an eye rake. Bronx leans over the top rope, stunned. PerZag gets to his feet. He hooks Bronx for what appears to be a suplex. The crowd rises with that ‘oh shit’ vibe. Bronx, however, fights back. He throws some punches into Zag’s ribcage. He pulls his head free and leans in with a headbutt!! PerZag spins around, wobbly. He nearly falls off the apron…Bronx hooks Zag around the waist. He lifts Zag up, displaying tremendous strength. He leans back and tosses Zag off the apron, over the top rope, back into the ring with a dead lift German Suplex!! The crowd goes wild!! The impact prevents any sort of pin via a bridge~
Smith: Wow! What impact! What strength!
Hood: I told ya! This Bronx guy is legit, Smith!
Smith: So far, I’m impressed.
~Bronx returns to his feet, quickly. The man understands the importance of maintaining advantage. PerZag sits up, groggily. He languidly reaches his feet. Bronx is coiled…he takes off, hitting the ropes. PerZag throws a clothesline! Bronx ducks! He hits the ropes again. PerZag spins around, throwing a roundhouse kick…Bronx, again, averts impact. Bronx hits the ropes a third time…Zag turns around once more…slower, this time. Bronx bounces off the ropes, leaps into the air, grabs PerZag by the head and SPIKES him, head first into the mat with a Running Front Flip DDT (Valescence's Victory)!!!! The crowd leaps out of their seats! Bronx hustles over, making the cover. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…BRONX VALESCENCE!!!!!
Smith: What a move!
Hood: Fucking guy just crippled PerZag. No more shark hunting for Zag.
Smith: Impressive win by Bronx…he dominated the former OCW Champion tonight.
Hood: Guy waltzed right in here and kicked all kinds of ass. He’s going to be one tough mother fucker to derail.
Smith: Indeed
~Bronx exits the ring - mission accomplished. This leaves PerZag behind. He gets to his feet. Scruff checks on him. Zag shoves Scruff aside saying "FUCK THIS SHIT!" He steps through the ropes and looks to do some damage around the ringside area. A fan taunts him. Zag glares at the fan, who is wearing an "OWL! IS! NIGHT!" shirt. This INCREASES Zag's fury~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: PerZag HATES Alice Knight
~Jason Kortare comes running down the ramp way....He spots PerZag outside of the ring near the barricade and spears PerZag hard outside the ring! Grabbing PerZag, he picks him up and quickly puts his head down between his legs. He bends his legs, picks him up and strikes him down with his Indian Deathlock Piledriver outside of the ring!!! The crowd reacts loudly. He looks down at PerZag, shaking his head~
Smith: Kortare getting revenge for PerZag's attack a few weeks ago which cost him his spot in the tournament!
Hood: Fuck him up, Kortare!
~Kortare spits on Zag and kicks him a few times, for good measure. The fans boo Kortare's battery of an OCW legend. Kortare doesn't care. He turns and heads up the ramp~
Smith: PerZag has been eliminated from the Block Party Tournament. Jason Kortare has quite possibly injured the man from down under...in short, this has not been a good night for PerZag.
Hood: Guy keeps PerZigging when he should PerZag. Bummer.
Smith: Indeed
~We cut backstage as the camera focuses on Maximillian Kael of the eMpire while two EMTs, his head tilted back unable to be fully seen by the camera. What can be seen is his long chin and scowling expression, jagged, pronounce teeth peeking through a pair of cracked lips. Dried blood appears on his upper shoulder and chest from the earlier confrontation between the eMpire, Paras and Langston~
Max Kael: I’m sure you’re all tickled pink to know that I do, in fact, bleed..
~The Prime Minister of Maxopotamia pushes the EMTs away, his head coming into full view. The area surrounding his eyepatch is covered in dried blood, a cut where the chain attack broke his skin just above his brow is still slowly weeping blood, the glint of the metal used to repair that portion of Max’s skull can be seen. The expression he wears appears amused, perhaps even enjoying the pain he currently was in~
Max Kael: ZeroCW we haven’t had much of a chance to talk, just you and I. Michael, well, he likes to talk. He enjoys being the center of attention, grabbing headlines and main event matches. Michael spends his whole world cultivating the image of a man who should be feared though his carefully crafted word play backed by his cunning as a ring general. A dangerous combination making him one of the greatest to ever step into the ring in my humble opinion. But.. did you think, maybe, for a moment that there was a reason he brought me here to ZeroCW to help him?
~Lifting a hand Max carefully touches the damaged portion of his face, wincing slightly before he looked down at his fingers, smearing the fresh blood together with a curious expression before his blue eye turns back up toward the camera~
Max Kael: Of course I’m here to help my friend, Mario Maurako, see his vision out and claim the title that is rightfully his, that goes without saying but I never would have known about his plight if Michael hadn’t come to me. Michael picked me because he knows what you all don’t know, at least not yet. Michael has a healthy fear for what I can do. For what I have done. While you all squabble and play at trash talk on Twitter I plan, I watch, I find your weakness. Michael beats you in the short term with words, breaking down your confidence, throwing you on the defensive under a barrage of insults.. Me?
~The smile on Max’s face stretches slightly as he lazily blinks his blue eye, leaning back in his chair in a blaise posture, his hands dangling at his side as he crosses his legs~
Max Kael: I am a disease, a plague. Do you know how diseases start? With the poor and the weak and the ignored. It spreads through rats and insects and fetid water. Once the infection takes hold the only thing left is to struggle and eventually lose the fight. One by one you’ll watch as I purge the lower rankings of this federation feeding on your losers, on your has-beens and never-weres. Each of you probably believes they can win this fight, you all probably think you can weather this storm, I encourage you to do so.
~His lips part as his crooked, yellowed teeth and dark, soured gums become visible through a sharklike smile~
Max Kael: Your time is coming, Denizens of ZeroCW, Not today and probably not tomorrow but I have the patience of a plague.. Last week it was PerZag. Maybe you’re next.. Maybe you’ve got five people in line before you but the day is coming. Covert. Cower. Beg. Boast. I don’t care because once I’m done you may not know why I chose you.. But you will remember the name of your cancer that left you terminally ill.
~Max stands, his fingers steepling together as he looks toward the camera, his wicked smile stretched painfully across his face, a few drops of fresh blood dripping from the gash above his eyepatch~
Max Kael: Prime Minister Maximillian Kael, First of my Name, Long May I Maim.
~The camera feed cuts out returning ringside~
Smith: Strong words from arguably the most menacing member of the eMpire.
Hood: Yea man, all the hype surrounds Mike Best but Max fucking Kael is a force.
Smith: Indeed. He could be in a great position. Mike Best acting as a shield, of sorts. He draws all the headlines while also attracting the anger and violence of OCW mainstays. Meanwhile, Max sits back, patiently, cautiously - calculating the moment to strike and, when he does, he may be the man that emerges at the top of the eMpire.
Hood: Yea, yea...uh huh, right - HEY! Are you trying to cause dysfunction in the eMpire?!
Smith: No! I'm merely talking here...it's what I get paid to do.
Hood: Yea, well you'd better watch it sMith. And, to think, you have an M in your name...talking all that mess. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED.
Smith: This is ridiculous. Anyway, speaking of newcomers...speaking of 'outsiders'...they don't come anymore notorious than the man competing in our next match. It's no secret that OCW management are, well...they aren't fans of a certain promotion.
Hood: Go ahead and say it. CeeDoubleYouEff
Smith: Yes, those guys...however angry OCW may be at CWF they were benevolent enough to allow two members from the CWF roster entry into the Block Party tournament. One of them, The Shadow, is scheduled to compete against an OCW legend, The Incredible One...and that match is next!
Hood: OCW! OCW!
Scott Syren Bracket – 1st Round
(2) The Incredible One (25-7) vs. (7) The Shadow (0-0)
~What a night it’s been! The crowd has been intense! We’ve seen unique match ups…the Block Party tournament continues to take shape as we pare the talent filled pack from 32 to 16. Belvedere stands in the ring. He looks like a man that should own A MAGICAL FLEECE. Sadly, there is only one MAGICAL FLEECE and it belongs to Biff. Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall and is a first round match in the Scott Syren Bracket!! Introducing first…
Smith: VERY interesting match up here, Hood.
Hood: I feel like you say that before EVERY match
Smith: We have a lot of interesting matches.
~The lights go out and the intro to "Wield Lightning to Split the Sun" by Primordial begins to play. Close up images of flickering torches appear on the tron and the ramp down to the ring. As the main riff kicks in, The Shadow and Myfanwy step through the curtains, cold, blue light illuminating wafting fog. Clad in their hooded robes they silently stand there until the lights go off again for a moment. When they come back on, they are in the ring, as stoic and unmoving as before~
Belvedere: From Calgary, Alberta, Canada…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 230lbs…he is a former CWF Champion…he is…The Shadow!!!!
~BOOOOS pour into the ring from the surrounding audience. It’s not that The Shadow is a dick…he’s a foreigner, an outsider. Not to mention he’s from…CWF! The fans are incensed~
Smith: Not much love here tonight for the former CWF Champion.
Hood: Can you blame these fans? Did you know last week, after the show…all the fans exiting the arena found CWF fliers stuck underneath their windshield wipers?
Smith: I did not know that.
Hood: NEFARIOUS TACTICS IN OUR PARKING LOT, SMITH
~Shadow pays the fans no mind. He finds his corner and maintains his focus on the task at hand. Belvedere waits longer than usual giving the HATE some time to brood before squashing it out with his commanding voice~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The thunderous boom of Disturbed's singer screaming the lyrics causes the crowd to cheer. The Incredible One walks out onto the stage, glancing into the OCW crowd. He curls his arms, before letting out a roar as he throws his leather jacket off and makes his way down the ramp. He slides into the ring from the mat and goes up a turnbuckle, posing for the crowd~
Belvedere: Currently in the ring, from Halifax, NS, Canada, weighing in at 235lbs... THE INCREDIBLE ONE!
~TIO jumps off the turnbuckle and climbs another, repeating the pose before coming down. His music fades as he stretches the ropes and loud "TIO" chants echo throughout the arena~
Smith: The OCW Arena has come unglued!
Hood: I prefer unhinged.
Smith: The OCW Arena has become unhinged!
Hood: On second thought, go with unglued…sounds more - Unstable
Smith: These OCW fans are losing their minds over TIO!
~Belvedere exits the ring. As does Myfanwy. That leaves TIO and The Shadow in the ring, alone. The bell sounds. The fans are 100% behind TIO…well, aside from one guy. He’s wearing a CWF shirt and seems to be using his phone a lot~
Smith: Why would you be on your phone at an event like this?
Hood: Weak ass awareness, Smith
~Our POV zooms in…we see the guy DMing people on the OCW message board! He’s about to send a lucrative offer to…SHOOTAH! The crowd BOOS! OCW Security rushes and begins to beat the guy senseless with metal pipes. He’s dragged over the barricade and backstage. The Shadow is paying no attention. TIO, leaning over the top rope, gives OCW security a hand~
Smith: And that man has been BANNED from OCW
Hood: Serves him right! Not only was he using OUR hospitality to recruit to…ya know, that other place…but he was also recruiting SHOOTAH. What an idiot!
Smith: Not the first person I’d recruit.
~TIO is having a good laugh over all this buffoonery. His laughter doesn’t last long, however as a crushing forearm shot to the back by The Shadow stuns the OCW legend!! The fans boo even louder! These people aren’t a fan of shadows or THE Shadow. Shadow stays on top of TIO, who turns around after the initial blow only to receive several kicks to the gut which send him stumbling into the nearest corner~
Smith: The Shadow taking advantage of a silly distraction.
Hood: Can’t trust these CWF guys, Smith. They’ll slip into your grandma’s bedroom at night when nobody is around to protect her crippled, senile ass.
Smith: That’s a disgusting analogy.
~Shadow stands atop the second buckle and begins to pummel TIO on the forehead with straight right hands. The fans, being sheep, of course, count along even though they are pulling for TIO. They reach eight. Shadow pauses…reaches back even further and delivers a ninth and ultra-heavy blow. He then falls back, feet into TIO’s stomach and tosses TIO toward the middle of the ring with a monkey flip. TIO lands hard, arching his back in pain~
Smith: What a start by The Shadow!
Hood: The light is shining down on the back of TIO creating a super long and heavy shadow, Smith.
Smith: All this CWF nonsense aside…The Shadow is a heck of a competitor. He could very well win this match and go deep in the tournament.
Hood: Did he DM you those talking points?
Smith: Enough about direct messaging!
Hood: PM?
Smith: Stop it!
Hood: Alright, fine. IM?
Smith: I will report you to HR if you don’t stop harassing me!
~The Shadow is back on his feet, quickly. TIO struggles to his feet. The Shadow charges at TIO. TIO turns around…The Shadow jumps up, wraps his legs around TIO’s head and tosses him out of the ring with a hurricanrana!!! TIO flies through the ropes landing roughly on the outside! The fans in attendance are quieted. The Shadow pops back to his feet looking like the clear front runner at this point~
Smith: What a move! The Shadow is super quick and very athletic.
Hood: Almost as elusive as…ya know.
Smith: Yes, I know – a shadow.
~TIO crawls for the barricade, reaching up and grabbing the top for support. He uses it to aid in standing. The Shadow, keeping an eye on TIO, sees he’s on his feet. He charges toward the ropes and jumps between the top and middle ropes with a suicide dive! TIO CATCHES The Shadow!! He instinctively tosses The Shadow onto his shoulders and drops him, head first onto the outside floor with a Death Valley Driver!!! The Shadow goes limp! The fans pop to their feet, cheering for the OCW legend~
Smith: TIO caught the Shadow and may have ended his chance at winning this match.
Hood: You have to give it to The Shadow…he’s laying it all out there. Sadly, it backfired.
Smith: Indeed…however, TIO is still shaken from Shadow’s initial offense…so this match could be far from over.
~TIO sits up against the barricade. He gets to his feet and grabs The Shadow by his hair, tossing him into the ring. TIO slides in and quickly covers The Shadow. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out by The Shadow!
Hood: Gets dropped on his head, outside…some severe neck compression and he still kicks out…fucking shadows, man.
Smith: Showing some toughness early on…however, he’s going to have to regain the momentum if he wants to win this match.
~TIO drills Shadow on the head with a straight right hand, keeping him subdued. TIO reaches his feet and yanks The Shadow up. He knees Shadow in the gut and hooks him for the beginnings of This Damn Incredible. He lifts Shadow up for his patented Argentine Piledriver. Shadow, however, uses the momentum to flip over and hooks TIO’s head under his arm. He tries to bring TIO down for a DDT, but TIO holds on! He tries to secure Shadow’s waist, looking for a Northern Lights Suplex…Shadow, realizing he’s in trouble, flips over, landing on his feet, back to back with TIO, holding onto TIO’s head and drops him with a neckbreaker!!! TIO hits hard, reaching back for his neck. The Shadow returns to his feet to a fairly strong, negative reaction~
Smith: Great back and forth between two veterans…The Shadow got the best of TIO during that sequence.
Hood: Shadow is quick and smart. That’s a solid combination.
Smith: Indeed…TIO looked to have gained permanent control only for The Shadow to flip this match on its head.
Hood: Shadow is putting up a fight…got to admit, it took guts to enter into this tournament, especially considering where Shadow is from. Glad to see he showed up tonight, ready to fight.
~TIO fights to his feet. Shadow, on his feet, leans against the ropes. TIO stands…Shadow takes off, running full speed. He leaps into the air and blasts TIO in the chest with a running dropkick!! TIO falls back, into the nearest corner…he doesn’t fall…the corner keeps him upright. He stumbles forward and collapses near the center of the ring, rolling onto his back. The Shadow heads for his nearest corner, looking to take advantage~
Smith: Uh oh…TIO is in a bad situation!
Hood: This may not be an incredible evening…get it?
Smith: Yes, Hood…we all got it.
Hood: Just making sure.
~The Shadow stands atop the nearby corner, looking down at a vulnerable TIO. The crowd rises with anticipation. Shadow leaps off and performs and perfectly executed Swanton Bomb!!! He lands right on top of TIO!! The entire ring shakes! Shadow hooks TIO’s leg, making the cover. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: TIO with the shoulder up! I thought that was it!
Hood: No shit, man. I thought we were gonna see the first big upset of the tournament.
Smith: Indeed…a signature move of The Shadow’s. He likes to call it Flight of the Night Demon.
~The Shadow seems ready to end this match. And, why not? He’s got TIO reeling. He heads for the nearest corner, once again. He climbs to the top and waits for TIO to get up. TIO is slow…but he eventually rises. He turns around, facing The Shadow. The Shadow leaps off looking for his patented Diving DDT! TIO lunges forward and SPEARS The Shadow in midair! The collision sends both men slamming into the corner Shadow was recently perched atop! Shadow’s body is wrecked into the buckles while TIO’s shoulder seems fucked upon impact. The fans chant “HOLY SHIT”~
Smith: Holy smokes! TIO just put his body on the line in an attempt to ground The Shadow!
Hood: And that’s how you catch a shadow, folks. You spear it.
Smith: Don’t try that at home, fans.
Hood: Oh shut up. The people dumb enough to do that shit at home probably shouldn’t be walking the streets anyway.
~TIO gets to his feet, favoring his left shoulder. The Shadow is seated on the mat, leaning up against the bottom buckle. TIO walks over and stomps a big, right boot into Shadow’s chest. He reaches down, grabbing Shadow by the hair and yanking him to his feet. TIO lunges forward with a huge headbutt, rocking Shadow on his heels. TIO spins around and nearly turns Shadow inside out with a huge discuss lariat (via the right arm). Shadow hits the mat hard! TIO goes for the cover, continuing to favor his left shoulder~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: The Shadow refuses to go down!
Hood: Not only that…he’s mocking TIO by using his left shoulder to avoid defeat!
Smith: I don’t think that was running through his mind, Hood.
Hood: Oh trust me…shadows are well known for rubbing metaphorical salt into the proverbial wound.
~TIO doesn’t complain…he’s used to Scruff’s methodical counting procedure after all these years. Plus a veteran of TIO’s caliber realizes the sense of urgency necessary in being successful at the OCW level. He pulls Shadow to his feet, looking for a ripcord lariat via the right arm. Shadow kicks TIO in the left shoulder, stunning the former OCW champion. Shadow hits the ropes, he comes bouncing off, jumps into the air and drives a knee right into TIO’s wounded joint! TIO drops to the mat, clutching at his shoulder~
Smith: TIO is down! He’s wounded! The Shadow is looking like he might pull off the upset!
Hood: It’d only be an upset if you were unaware of this Shadow guy
Smith: Which basically means 95% of our audience.
Hood: I’m going to need the list of the remaining 5%, Smith. For internment purposes.
~The Shadow is quickly back to his feet. He heads for the nearest corner and scales it with ease. He reaches the top and spells out, with his finger “CWF”. TIO returns to his feet, continuing to favor his shoulder. The Shadow leaps off, grabs TIO by the head and drops him with NIGHTFALL!!! The impact sends TIO upright, stiff as a board before falling backward, through the ropes, onto the apron. Shadow looks around for TIO’s body, only to find it outside the ring, in an unpinnable area. He hurries over to pull TIO back into the ring~
Smith: Nightfall!! TIO is down!
Hood: Oh man someone is about to get fired. You think they’ll cut the feed if this Shadow guy wins?
Smith: I’d hope not!
~The Shadow has trouble dragging the dead weight of TIO off the apron, under the ropes, and into the ring. He mans the fuck up and manages to get TIO’s lifeless carcass near the center, on its back. He hops on top of TIO, grabbing both legs for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: TIO kicked out! He managed to avoid losing via Nightfall!
Hood: I thought that was it…holy shit, man…we just averted disaster.
Smith: It would have been far from disastrous, Hood. This is a competition…nothing political going on.
~The Shadow looks at Scruff who responds with two fingers. The Shadow is frustrated but, like TIO, doesn’t let it get in the way of his path toward success. He fires back up, getting to his feet. The crowd isn’t booing him as mercilessly as before…they are beginning to respect his in ring ability. The Shadow pulls TIO back to his feet, using the available, healthy right arm. He boots TIO in the gut and takes control of the wounded, left arm. He looks to twist it into an armbar…TIO, realizing the pain he’s about to endure, reaches out and rakes Shadow across the face! A heel move that perturbs the crowd somewhat…but they are still CLASSIC OCW, BABY so they let it slide. Scruff admonishes TIO for a bit, but never comes close to DQing him. TIO hoists a stunned Shadow onto his shoulders! He grimaces. The weight on his left side is almost too much to take…he spins Shadow around and drops him with This Damn Incredible!! The entire arena pops! TIO reaches for his shoulder, kicking at the mat with his feet, in pain. Shadow is out, center of the ring~
Smith: He hit it! It’s over!
Hood: Yea, if he can pin the fucker. That left arm is fucked up.
Smith: C’mon, TIO! Win one for the company!
~TIO swallows the pain in favor of pride and glory. He crawls over and tosses his arm across The Shadow’s chest!! Scruff slides in with the count! The fans chant along~
1!
2!
3!
NO!
Smith: What?!
Hood: The fucking Shadow kicked out? Fuck this shit!
Smith: He kicked out! I can’t believe it! He’s still alive!
Hood: Put him down, TIO! Put this fucking douche bag down!
~TIO remains undaunted. He returns to his feet and grabs a handful of Shadow’s hair via his right hand. He gets Shadow up and hoists him across his shoulders for This Damn Incredible. He looks toward the HARD CAMERA. His eyes are full of intensity. He swings Shadow around…Shadow takes control of the momentum, wraps his legs around TIO’s head and whips him to the mat with a second hurricanrana…only this time he turns it into a pin, hooking both legs!!! The crowd rises with shock! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3…
NO!
Smith: Two! It was two!
Hood: Was it?
Smith: Yes, barely…as close to three as you can get!
~The Shadow looks at Scruff. He’s holding up three fingers. Scruff responds with his signature ‘peace’ sign…or, ya know, two fingers. Shadow gets to his feet, reaching out and grabbing Scruff, continuing to plead his case. He’s not threatening the OCW ref, he just KNOWS it was three. But, Scruff maintains his stance. The Shadow releases the referee’s shirt and turns around toward TIO, who sits up, leaning against the bottom rope, looking fatigued. The Shadow charges in and delivers a V-Trigger Knee into TIO’s face. TIO slouches to the side. The Shadow looks toward the corner, ready to end this~
Smith: I think The Shadow might have a slight argument. That COULD have been a three count, Hood.
Hood: But, it wasn’t. Too bad, so sad.
Smith: You are heartless.
Hood: That is scientifically impossible.
~The Shadow reaches the top. TIO, using the ropes to get to his feet, realizes an opportunity within his grasp and begins to shake the top rope!! The Shadow loses his balance and flips over, off the top rope, landing on his back, hard. The crowd pops! TIO, clutching his shoulder, points toward the top rope. The fans respond with “YES!” TIO steps through the ropes and heads for the top~
Smith: No way
Hood: He doesn’t do this often…but, when he does, it never fails.
Smith: TIO is going for his Shooting Star Press!
~TIO reaches the top and looks down at The Shadow. He closes his eyes and mentally prepares himself for the move. The Shadow suddenly kips up! The crowd reacts with horror. The Shadow runs toward the corner and scales it with ease. TIO opens his eyes and receives a stiff forearm to the side of the head. He responds with a forearm of his own. The Shadow retaliates…TIO responds! The two men are dueling it out via forearm shots atop the corner~
Smith: Who is going to falter?
Hood: C’mon, TIO! You’ve stood toe to toe with Meyhu! You’ve defeated Vargas. You’ve got this…don’t let some fucking CWF cock snot come in here and deprive you of a deep run in this tournament!
~TIO delivers a knee! It looks low. Is it? We’re not entirely sure (it probably was). Shadow doubles over. TIO leaps over The Shadow, looking for a sunset flip into a powerbomb. He lands on his feet, his arms hooked around Shadow’s hips. He lifts Shadow up, onto his shoulders! Shadow looks around like ‘OH SHIT’. The Shadow tries to grab TIO’s left arm…he tries to hit him in the shoulder. TIO yells out. He winces…but, he finds his resolve and swings Shadow around, dropping him head first into the center of the ring with This Damn Incredible!!! He holds on for the pin! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…THE INCREDIBLE ONE!!!!!
Smith: He did it! TIO survived the Shadow!
Hood: Man, you’re not fucking kidding. The Shadow came at TIO full fucking force.
Smith: Indeed…wow! What a performance by the former CWF Champion!
Hood: Guy didn’t have to sign up…guy didn’t have to SHOW up. But, he brought his A game and proved to everyone in OCW that he’s legit.
Smith: Indeed…and, as for TIO, well, he continues to show why he’s one of the very best in this business.
Hood: Yea but he’s got scars, man. That shoulder needs to heal before his next match.
Smith: Good news is he’s got three weeks…should be enough.
Hood: Yea, maybe…man, these tournaments really take it out of you.
Smith: It is a grueling process, for sure.
~TIO exits the ring after having his hand raises. He’s favoring his left shoulder, heading up the ramp. It’s clear he knows he escaped tonight with a win. The Shadow sits up and looks around. He lowers his head, shaking it in frustration. The OCW fans respond by giving him a huge applause. He looks up. This reaction from the OCW fanbase appears to have been unexpected~
Smith: I don’t care what problems exist between the two promotions…thank you, Shadow for signing up and thank you for giving us one heck of a performance!
Hood: Yea, yea…I’ll lay off the guy. He’s fucking good.
Smith: Good luck to you in CWF, Shadow! We wish you the very best in your career.
Hood: Right on
~A frustrated Shadow reaches his feet and thanks the fans for their warm response. In spite of all the preconceived negativity, he’s won the OCW fans over. A solid consolation prize. The Shadow acknowledges the fans before exiting the ring~
Smith: And TIO is moving on…he will face the winner of tonight’s main event.
Hood: Yea…that’ll be Bester or James Raven
Smith: Indeed! Fans, don't forget to catch the return of High Octane Wrestling! OCW mainstays TIO, Mario Maurako, and The Lost Soul will all be competing in a tournament for the HOW Championship!
Hood: Hey! Don't forget Mike Best, Max Kael, and Cecilworth M!! Farthington!
Smith: Of course not!
Hood: Darin Zion, Scottywood, Bobbinette...BOBBINETTE CAREY?!
Smith: Uh huh
Hood: She's still alive?
Smith: Indeed she is...alive and well.
Hood: Well fuck me sideways. Best of luck to that crazy lady!
Smith: I'm sure she'll take it! HOW returns with Refueled! Don't miss all the action over at howrestling.com!
#DARLIN' YOU GIVE LOVE....
#A BAD NAME!!!!
~Bon Jovi's remastered "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."~
~She makes her way to ringside, slapping the hands of fans along the way before arriving in the ring, leaping over the apron and rolling to one knee, her microphone wielding hand raised high in the air in a three finger salute, two fingers holding the mic in place. She then hops to her feet, motioning for her music to be killed.~
Rebel: KEYWEST, MAKE SOME NNNNNOOOOOIIISSSSSEEEE!!!
Crowd: REBEL! REBEL! REBEL! REBEL!!!
~She nods her head to the crowd, a big grin on her face.~
Rebel: Last time ya'll saw me, I wasn't doing so hot and maybe it's because, like anyone going through a bit of a struggle when they get back on the horse, maybe I need a little help from a dear friend. Maybe before I go for that OCW Platinum, I instead grab the gold that was stolen from me. The gold that was given the fuck away without a real fight. My Tag Team Championships, currently residing in the possession of the man, the myth, the legend once upon a time, Bobbie Grenier and that redneck as fuck motherfucker who keeps thinking he's me with a dick, but failing horribly at it, Chad Vargas.
~Melinda steps towards the ropes, leaning against them with her arms crossed, microphone held sideways at her mouth~
Rebel: Biggest mistake that the Wrecking Triple-K Krew could've made was issuing an open challenge with a former champion who never got her rematch and guess what motherfuckers? HERE'S MY PARTNER!!!!
MMMMMOOOLLLLLYYY HHHHAAAATTTCCCCHHHHEETTT!!!
~The lights in the Arena dim green, soft white lights strobing behind the entrance stage. As Leo Moracchioli's cover of AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" hit's the PA system with metal guitar riffs and drum beats assaulting the senses~
~Stepping out onto the right side of the stage with arms extended and a bit of a spring in her step, is the red headed Ginger Ninja herself, Molly O'Hatherine. She crosses her arms over her head, smiling to the fans. We find her decked out in black and green PVC wrestling pants, a high necked crop top, wrestling boots, hooded black and green "Ginger Ninja" PVC vest, a single black wrestling sleeve on her left arm, hand and wrist tape on the right~
~She then bolts down the aisle towards the ring in a high speed run. Arriving at ringside, she leaps over the apron and under the ropes to slide to the center, right behind Melinda Rhodes who just grins wickedly at the camera. From there she hops up to her feet, throwing her fist into the air~
~Molly pulls her hood back, revealing her freckled face and flame red hair. She throws her arms out at her sides and shouts at the top of her lungs.~
Molly: WHO'S HERE FER AN ARSE WHIPPIN???!!!!!
~The crowd erupts with a huge pop!~
Crowd: GINGER NINJA! GINGER NINJA! GINGER NINJA!!!
Rebel: Looks like they know who you are Molly!
~Mel shoves off the ropes and turns to face her tag partner with a big grin, slapping a high five on the spot. Molly pulls a microphone from her vest pocket, then turns her attention to the crowd.~
Molly: Aye, ye' know me because ya've wanted me in this house fer a long time and HERE I AM!!!! Rebel, Ya' needed a partner and as ye' like ta' coin a phrase, I'm yer huckleberrae' yeah!
Rebel: Glad to have you!
Molly: OI! Bob Grenyae? Greenear? Gronyer? However tha' bloodae' fawkin' hell ya' say yer name, YOU and yer friend Chad Vargas are bound fer one bad night with tha' NINJA REBELLION! When ye' hear the strike of Thunder and tha' roar of Leo Moracchioli's brilliant voice coverin' that most won'erful of AC/DC classics, and yer in this ring with those belts on tha' line, be lookin' ta' drop them to a pair of proper lasses with dignitae' because lads?
~Molly brought those brilliant green eyes of hers to bear upon the camera, a devilish smile on her face as she looks directly into the camera and to the boys in the back.~
Molly: As of this moment, the Tag Team Champions are outclassed, gunned, and even outnumbered without a prayer! So I say to anae' and all who wish ta' challenge fer tha' right ta' step up and take tha' Tag Team Crown? Do so and be prepared ta' be put down so fawkin' hard yer teeth rattle from yer gums and make ya' bloodae' CHOKE ON 'EM, YEAH!!!!
~Her and Melinda stand in the middle of the ring, side by side, raise their arms and cross them over their heads. Thunderstruck hit's the P/A as they both whip their arms out to their sides, all four columns and strips out on the apron suddenly burst with massive explosions of blue, green, and red pyro sparks.~
Crowd: NIN-JA RRREEBBEEEELLLION!! NIN-JA RRREEBBEEEELLLION!! NIN-JA RRREEBBEEEELLLION!! NIN-JA RRREEBBEEEELLLION!!
Rebel: FUCK YEAH!!!!! WE ARE THE NINJA REBELLION AND WOE'S BE THE MOTHERFUCKERS WHO GET IN OUR WAY!!!!
~From there Molly and the Rebel share a fist bump, then toss their microphones to ring attendants. The two then exit the ring and head up the ramp, slapping outstretched fan hands left and right on the way to the back!~
Smith: And Melinda's got back up in the form of the Ginger Ninja! Ninja Rebellion is here!
Hood: MORE TAG TEAMS?!
Smith: Indeed!
Hood: Fuckin hell...maybe we should close down the singles division.
Smith: Well, let's not get crazy!
~The scene opens up backstage in what was the co-office of acting General Manager Marcus Welsh and Commissioner Greg. We can see Welsh and Mike Zybala having an argument while Greg is relaxing in his massage chair, eyes closed and noise cancelling earphone on.~
Welsh: Just admit that you tried to kill me!
Zybala: I did not! I was using the chair just fine before you used it! Maybe you broke it!
Welsh: All I did was sit on it!
Zybala: Well, maybe your little vacation caused you to gain a few pounds and the chair couldn't handle the extra weight!!
~Welsh recoils back as if struck by Zybala and gasps.~
Welsh: There is no need for that kind of insult, Zybala. Body shaming is aesthetic racism! I will not stand for it! Somebody tried to kill me last week! I was nearly burned alive, Mike...and there’s only one man fit to be the primary suspect.
~We zoom in on Greg’s anxious eyes. We zoom in on Welsh’s anxious eyes. We zoom in on Zybala’s anxious eyes. We then zoom in on the dead eyes of a TONY THE SPIDER PILLOW. We quickly cut back to Welsh~
Welsh: YOU!
~Zybala gasps at this accusations.~
Zybala: I would never! We may have our differences and not like each other that much, but I would never stoop to murder. How do you know that I wasn't the target? Had you walked in two minutes later, I would have been the one in the chair getting roasted. Did you ever think of that?
~ Welsh rubs his chin pondering this idea. It's clear that he did NOT think of that at all.~
Welsh: So there are three possible scenarios. One, someone tried to murder me. Two, you were the target. Three, we're both jumping to conclusions and this is merely a faulty chair and you should get your money back.
Zybala: That would be the simplest solution. However, when have things ever been known to be simple around here? What I think is we have a mystery on our hands.
~As soon as the words leave Zybala's mouth, Jack Puffer pokes his head into the doorway of the office.~
Puffer: A mystery you say? Don't worry, I'm on the case!
~ Both Welsh and Zybala try to say that they don't need help, but it's too late. Puffer is gone. Zybala and Welsh look at each other and you can feel the anger. Instead of saying anything, Zybala just turns and leaves. Welsh goes over to Greg and taps him on the shoulder. Greg opens his eyes, looks at Welsh and frowns.:
Greg: Whatever it is, ask your new “friend” Jason.
~Greg then closes his eyes and begins to actively ignore Welsh as we cut back to Hood and Smith.~
Smith: Now that's a case suited for Jack Puffer
Hood: Fuckin Puffer...thought we might make it through a show without him.
Smith: You thought wrong! Well fans, it's time for our main event! Bester Freund, former OCW Craze Champion, is set to compete against a wrestling legend - James Raven. Raven joined Team King Infinity back at Death March...his efforts helped elevate Collins into the Death March main event. Sadly, without Raven's presence IN the main event, Collins was unable to defeat Paul Paras and earn his match against Meyhu.
Hood: Yep, Zybala took over and fucked shit up. I like to call that moment the day the music died.
Smith: Okay. Collins may be out with a back injury...but James Raven is back. His previous effort in OCW left a sour taste in his mouth. So, he's here to atone for his disappointing effort back in December. Can he unseat the three seed, Bester Freund or will Bester send Raven packing?
Hood: And what about Aubrey...she's going to accompany Bester, right?
Smith: She's going to be in his corner, I think.
Hood: Shit's gonna get wild.
Smith: Let's head to ringside for tonight's main event!
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Scott Syren Bracket – 1st Round
(3) Bester Freund (11-5) vs. (6) James Raven (0-0)
~It’s been a tremendous evening. You’d think these fans might be tired after all the in ring action, backstage shenanigans, and overall eclectic vibe for however many hours this fucking show is supposed to last. But, nope. These people are animals. What do they put in the beer down here? Whatever it is, it only seems to rile these people up rather than subdue them into a drunken, laconic stupor. Belvedere, always sober and on point, clears his majestic throat. The crowd GOES WILD~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This match is a first round match in the Scott Syren bracket and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~The entire arena slowly fades to black as the audience excitedly awaits the entrance of "The Peoples GOAT". The drum beat and guitar solo start and a series of white and blue spotlights come up and pan the crowd. Mike Shinodas voice is heard on the speakers singing~
“Now here we go for the hundredth time, hand grenade pins in every line, throw ‘em up and let something shine, going out of my fucking mind… filthy mouth, no excuse, find a new place to hang this noose, string me up from atop these roofs, high and tight so I wont get loose.”
~By now the fans are going wild and cheering as the spotlights slowly make their way to the top of the entrance ramp where a dim fog begins to form~
“Truth is you can stop and stare, rub myself out and no one cares, dug the trench out and lay down there with a shovel up, out of reach somewhere… yeah, someone pouring in, make it a dirt glass floor again, say your prayers and stomp it out when they bring that chorus in.”
~The spotlights come together as one, and the fog fills the top of the ramp until the downbeat hits and a major blue and silver pyrotechnic display goes off and the rest of the arena lights turn up to full. When the smoke clears James Raven is seen on top of the ramp, his hands thrown up over his head and a huge smile on his face.~
“I BLEED IT OUT!!! Diggin’ deeper just to throw it away, I BLEED IT OUT!!!”
~James makes his way down the ramp, high fiving fans and posing for pictures with several of them until he reaches the base of the ramp. Then, he pauses for a few seconds and sprints for the ring, diving in under the bottom rope and sliding in to the center of the mat on his hands and knees. He poses for a second, then gets up and runs for the turnbuckle, climbing up and posing yet again for the fans before doing a 360 degree spin off and doing the same on the opposite turnbuckle. As his music fades out he stretches in his corner, and then waits for BESTER~
Belvedere: From Toronto, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 222lbs…he’s a multi-time Hall of Famer and has been champion more times than you’ve mast…I’m not saying that. Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome a true icon in our sport…James Raven!!!
~The crowd gives a strong, positive reaction for the return of James Raven~
Smith: James Raven making his second appearance here in OCW. If you’ll remember, he aided Team Collins in their victory over Team Paras at Death March.
Hood: Yea until he was screwed via a HOCKEY STICK to the head by Silver Cyanide. If not for that…dude probably would have won Death March!
Smith: I don’t know about that…but it certainly derailed any opportunity he may have had in advancing.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~Arch Enemy's The Eagle Flies Alone plays and after a minute Bester slowly strolls on out from the back to a huge pop from all of his little buddies that still believe in him and everything he stands for~
When I was born the seed was sown
I will not obey, my life is my own
Battle rows, which do enslave me
Exposed lies that enrage me
~Bester crouches down at the top of the ramp and lowers his head for a second. He looks up and locks his sights on the ring. Bester nods to himself and slaps himself in the head a couple of time and takes off in a full sprint down to the ring~
I don't believe in heaven, I don't believe in hell
Never joined the herd, could not adjust well
Slave and master, it's not for me
I choose my own path, set myself free
~Bester slides in under the bottom rope and pops up, sprinting across the ring and bouncing off the ropes before coming to a stop in middle of the ring, where he points to one of his Little Buddies, one of his Shinning Stars, his Rainbow Warriors and waves to them. He just couldn't help himself~
Belvedere: From Scottsdale, Arizona…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 320lbs…he is a former OCW Craze Champion…Bester Freund!
Smith: And there’s BESTER!
Hood: Dude’s been sort of lost lately, hasn’t he?
Smith: I wouldn’t say lost…but since losing the Craze title to Andrea his direction has, well, yea, it’s lacked, umm, direction.
Hood: Well said!
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds. The fans are on their feet in anticipation of a tremendous main event~
Smith: Bester needs a win…he’s someone that could get hot and win this whole tournament!
Hood: Whoa, let’s not get crazy, Smith. I like Bester but pull it back some, bro.
Smith: He’s big, he’s athletic…he’s held gold in OCW before…this could be his time!
Hood: He’s facing JAMES RAVEN! A guy who has won more titles than most people have masturbated. Do you realize how often people masturbate, Smith?
Smith: Like Belvedere…I’m not discussing such a vile topic!
~Raven, in his corner, looks around at the fans inside the OCW Arena. He’s taking in his surroundings. Bester starts to clap his hands and stomp his feet! The fans join in! Bester marches around the ring getting the fans riled up!! The entire arena feels as though it’s shaking. A loud “BESTER!” chant begins. Raven looks around with a befuddled expression. He points at Bester as if to say, “Seriously?” Bester finally comes to a stop in the center of the ring and turns his focus directly at Raven. He motions for Raven to come at him. The crowd cheers! The ‘BESTER’ chants increase in volume. Raven leans back. He smirks. Is he annoyed or entertained? It’s hard to tell. But, Raven takes the big man up on his offer, sprinting out of the corner and locking up with the former Craze Champion~
Smith: Here we go!! James Raven…Bester Freund…what a match!
Hood: Bester is a former Craze Champion, Smith. He’s been in the ring with many big names…including one James Raven should be familiar with – Aidan Collins.
Smith: Indeed, Bester took King Infinity to the limit a few months back.
~Raven transitions immediately into a side head lock. He appears to have Bester subdued. Unfortunately, Bester is something of a physical freak. So, he’s able to lift Raven up! Raven looks around…he tries to get down, but Bester’s got him. Bester brings Raven down across his knee with an Atomic Drop!! The crowd goes ‘OOOOHHH!’ upon impact. Raven drops to one knee, wincing in pain~
Smith: You’re not going to out muscle Bester. James Raven needs to utilize his speed and agility…stay outside of Bester’s reach.
Hood: He’s got that retard strength, Smith.
Smith: Please, can we not?
Hood: Can we not what? Please, be specific.
~Bester stays on top of Raven, reaching forward and grabbing the pro wrestling icon by the arms, locking him into a Full Nelson. He yanks Raven to his feet. Raven grimaces…that’s a lot of strength yanking on his arms and shoulders in a very awkward manner. Bester looks out to the crowd. They continue to chant his name. Raven senses a temporary lapse on focus by his opponent…he kicks his legs out, onto the ropes, shoves off and flips over Bester. Bester releases the hold…Raven lands on his feet behind Freund. He takes off, hitting the ropes…he bounces off and runs right into a lariat from Bester!!! Raven turns inside out and hits the mat…his eyes are wide open, displaying a stunned look~
Smith: He nearly took his head off, Hood!
Hood: That would have sucked. I’m not sure HOTv allows live decapitations.
Smith: Plural?
Hood: Well, if you’re going to book one decapitation, you might as well book two.
~Bester stomps on Raven, keeping him down. It’s clear that Bester is somewhat aware of Raven’s career achievements, keeping a focused approach. Well, up until NOW. He looks up the ramp and sees AUBREY BAXTER-KALEI strutting down to the ring. She’s, well, she’s kinda sexy…way too sexy for Bester, that’s for sure. She smiles and waves at Bester. He gulps, swallowing a giant wad of saliva. Aubrey reaches ringside to cheer him on!! Raven reaches up and yanks Bester down into a small package!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: James Raven nearly took advantage of a distracted Bester!
Hood: She’s too much woman for him, Smith. Aubrey, that is.
Smith: Yea, I knew to whom you were referring.
Hood: Just making sure…I never know with you, man.
~Bester pops back to his feet. He’s refocused, for the time being. He hangs back, in a corner. Raven’s back is to Bester. Raven turns around, locating Freund. Bester shoots out of the corner, looking for a spear. Raven leaps into the air and dropkicks a diving Bester right on top of the head!!! Bester’s neck is compressed!!! He drops to the mat, face first. He lands awkwardly, almost as though his body has gone limp~
Smith: Oh my!
Hood: Dude he just gave Bester the stinger of all stingers
Smith: Incredible quickness and athleticism by James Raven!
Hood: It’s about time we got a legit Raven around here. No more of this Hellraven bullshit.
Smith: She’s Hayley Robinson, Hood. Get it right!
~Raven, realizing Bester might be temporarily paralyzed, dives in. He struggles, only slightly, to get the big man’s dead weight over, onto his back. Raven then makes the cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Bester got the shoulder up…barely!
Hood: Okay so he isn’t crippled. Good for him!
Smith: Good for all of us!
Hood: How dare you speak for everyone in attendance, Smith. Who the hell do you think you are!
Smith: A rational human being who cares for the wellbeing of others.
Hood: Gay
~Raven, on his knees, grabs Bester by the head and drills several right hands into Freund’s forehead. The last few send the back of Bester’s head slamming into the mat. Raven pops to his feet. Bester remains on the ground. The crowd isn’t necessarily AGAINST Raven…but they are definitely PRO Bester. Aubrey yells from ringside, urging Bester to get up. Raven pays her no mind…this guy’s been around a decent looking woman, or twelve. Raven delivers some stiff kicks to Bester, maintaining his advantage~
Smith: Bester appears to be in bad shape. A terrible misfortune if one, misplaced kick could be the end of Bester’s tournament run.
Hood: Who says it was misplaced? Raven came into this match FURIOUS…did you not see what transpired at that laser tag game?
Smith: I saw. A grown man trying to ruin a game for kids. It made me sick, to be honest.
Hood: Only thing nauseating was the fact that kids were flippantly stealing trademarked names for their stupid laser game. Paul Paras should sue!
~Despite Raven’s kicks, Bester begins to stir. The rainbow warriors are fully behind him, chanting “BESTER!” He rolls onto his side. Raven continues to stomp. Bester gets to all fours. Raven throws a soccer style kick into Bester’s ribs. Aubrey, from ringside, continues to urge him on. “BESTER! BESTER!” the OCW Arena is on fire!! Bester’s body is shaking. He gets to one knee. Raven throws a roundhouse kick. Bester ducks the blow and pops to his feet. Raven’s momentum spins him around. Bester secures Raven around the waist. He hoists Raven up…Raven flips over, landing atop Bester’s shoulders in the Electric Chair position. Bester marches around! The fans are going wild! Raven looks anxious…he reaches down, grabs Bester by the head and jerks his neck, violently to the side!! This sends a crippling pain up Bester’s spine. The big man falls to one knee. Raven hops off Bester’s shoulders, turns into the ropes, bounces off and delivers a Shining Wizard to the side of Bester’s head!! Bester falls over…Raven makes the cover~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Bester survives…unfortunately that neck is going to plague him throughout the match
Hood: Guy should probably give up, tap out. I mean, think about it…get your neck snapped by James Raven or stuff your face in Aubrey’s titties…what sounds better?
Smith: How dare you objectify her like that!
Hood: I’m not the one in the low cut top, Smith!
~Raven looks at Scruff as if to say, “C’mon, man, you can count faster than that.” Scruff holds up two fingers. Bester sits up. Raven, on his knees, hurries over and locks a sleeper onto Bester, torqueing the neck while pressuring the windpipe. Aubrey slaps the mat, continuing to encourage OCW’s superhero. The Rainbow Warriors urge Bester to stay awake…to fight free! Bester raises his right fist, shaking his arm in synch with the chants. Aubrey shakes her arm in the air, encouraging the fans to keep it up. Her cleavage bounces around while she shakes her head. This visual isn’t lost on many of the men (and some of the manlier women) near ringside~
Smith: Bester feeding off the fans’ energy!
Hood: People are so fucking stupid, Smith. Let’s cheer for Bester when James Raven is CLEARLY the better man.
Smith: There is nothing clear about that, Hood.
Hood: Hold on a second…I think we need camera two to zoom in a bit.
Smith: OH, really, do you think Raven might be choking Best…hey!
Hood: There we go!
~Camera two zooms in for a super close shot of Aubrey’s cleavage. We quickly cut away, back to what’s going on inside the ring. Bester is fighting to his feet…he stands! Raven hops onto Bester’s back, trying like hell to subdue the energized goliath. The fans continue chanting. The OCW Arena feels like it’s shaking! Bester staggers around…Raven yanks back as hard as he can…Bester straightens up, stumbles back and falls into a corner, crushing Raven!!! Raven releases the hold!! Bester remains on his feet, staggering around the ring, shaking his head. Raven leans into the corner wincing in pain~
Smith: Bester is on his feet and free!
Hood: Fucking hell…why go for the sleeper? Sleeper holds suck!
Smith: He’s wrestling based off instinct, Hood. You act like all of this is premeditated.
~Bester finally spots Raven. He charges in and drives a HUGE shoulder into Raven’s midsection! The crowd goes wild!! Aubrey hops up and down, excited. Bester grabs Raven and tosses him out of the corner, halfway across the ring. Raven hits hard! The fans are losing their minds! The rainbow warriors are dancing atop a river of gold! It’s a crazy scene! Raven arches his back and turns, facing Bester, holding his hands out in an act to entice mercy~
Smith: Don’t give him any windows, Bester…he’s too dangerous!
Hood: Quit shouting shit, man…Bester can’t hear you.
Smith: I’m sorry if I get a little emotionally charged during these matches.
Hood: Yea man, if I were your friend I’d suggest taking up a hobby. Definitely not laser tag.
~Bester is showing NO MERCY. He jumps up and comes crashing down with a boot into Raven’s chest!! Raven is flattened out on the mat. Bester yanks him to his feet and whips Raven into the ropes…Bester hits the opposite ropes, bounces off and CUTS THROUGH Raven with a HUGE spear!!! The fans go wild!! Bester is back on his feet, looking GREAT! He heads for the ropes…the same side of the ring where Aubrey is standing. Bester steps through the ropes, poised to deliver Wrath of Bester!!! Raven remains on the mat, holding his abdomen. Bester looks down and sees Aubrey…his position gives him direct, visual access down the front of Aubrey’s top. His eyes widen~
Smith: Focus, Bester! Focus!
Hood: I think he IS focused, Smith.
Smith: Not on her…on the match!
Hood: Dude, it’s tits…big, giant, juicy tits…right in front of his fucking face. This man owns cats, Smith. You know he needs to get laid.
~A confused expression grips his face. He sorta bends over, awkwardly, as though something is plaguing him, south of the border. Aubrey smiles, flattered by whatever is happening. Raven, meanwhile, sits up and slowly reaches his feet. The crowd yells “BESTER!” Aubrey slaps at the mat and points at James Raven. Bester finally turns his attention to what TRULY matters and jumps up…he springborads off the top rope and flies at Raven with a forearm smash…Raven, though, leaps up and grabs Bester on the way down dropping him with FLIGHT OF THE RAVEN!!! The crowd is stunned! Bester appears out. Raven makes the cover…Scruff slides in. Aubrey yells from the outside for Bester to kick out~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. The crowd is instantly crestfallen~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…JAMES RAVEN!!!!!
Smith: Dang it! Bester took his eye off the match for just a second, allowing the talented James Raven enough of an opportunity to steal this match.
Hood: Bester did not have LASER like focus tonight, Smith.
Smith: Your pun is not appreciated. That Aubrey…that vixen…that woman needs to stay out of Bester’s life!
Hood: Why? You pissed because the only pair of tits you can get your hands on are accessible via a furtive cash transaction?
Smith: Do not soil my good name!
~Aubrey hurries into the ring. Raven gets his arm raised. He looks down at Bester like “So THAT’S what a Bester Freund is.” It’s clear he’s impressed by Bester’s ability. He notices Aubrey…he notices Bester…he gauges the crowd’s disappointment and decides now is probably a good time to exit, stage left. Bester shakes his head, looking like a man waking up after passing out post several hours of alcoholic consumption. He’s in a fog, trying to remember what’s taken place~
Smith: James Raven will advance to face The Incredible One in the second round. Unfortunately, for Bester…his tournament has come to an end.
Hood: Behind every abject failure of a man stands a whore of a woman.
Smith: RUDE
Hood: Rude, but true
Smith: What a disappointing way to end the evening...regardless, let's take a look at the updated brackets following tonight's action.
Smith: Four HUGE names moving on
Hood: So we get Vargas against Bronx and TIO taking on James Raven?
Smith: Indeed...the winners of those matches will go on to Block Party
Hood: Shit's getting really real, man
Smith: And, well, on that note I guess we should wrap this show up.
Hood: For real
Smith: For Hood, I'm Smith saying good night everyone and we'll see you all next week!
~We fade out~