Massacre201912

OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, April 8th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida

~Is it REALLY Monday…again…already? Holy smokes the week flies by. Anyway, another Monday staring us right in the face…luckily we’re pretty well prepared this go around. Our past self looking out for our future self so that our current self isn’t so stressed. TEAM WORK. We’ve been itching to get home all day for relaxation and a bit of entertainment. As our incognito browser is closed, we find that both have been achieved. The television flips on to HOTv! It’s Monday Night Massacre time! Three weeks (HOLY SHIT) until Block Party. That badass Massacre logo which still reeks of new car flashes before cutting straight into the jam packed OCW Arena! The fans are going wild! A blow up doll that resembles Smith(?!) is being passed around. A fact that makes the play by play man look more than slightly uncomfortable~

Smith: Hello again and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood. And, well…can we get security to remove that thing from the crowd?

Hood: Why? Don’t you want the fans to have fun?

Smith: It makes me feel uncomfortable and slightly violated.

Hood: Now you know how I feel every time Alice Knight is on TV.

Smith: Totally incomparable…but, please, security, if you could…I would, you know, appreciate it.

Hood: WEAK ASS

Smith: Anyway, we’ve got a big show lined up for you fans this week! Two matches with title implications…the SiLVeRFReaK bracket gets underway which is the final batch of first round matches –

Hood: Second round starts next week?

Smith: Indeed! The eMpire steps into tag team action for the first time as we get our initial in-ring look at Cecilworth Farthington.

Hood: M!

Smith: Yes, mustn’t forget the dreaded m. And, in our main event we will see Mike Best attempt to down yet another OCW Hall of Famer as he takes on The Incredible One.

Hood: TIO manned up and took Best’s challenge. Impressive. Too bad he’s going to get beat up for it.

Smith: So you hope to see a man you admire get beat up?

Hood: Only if he takes the beating like a man.

Smith: Whatever that means…I for one am pulling for TIO. It’s about time the eMpire faced a little resistance around here.

Hood: What’s the fun in that?

Smith: This is OCW! You have to earn your spot around here.

Hood: Am I dreaming or didn’t Mike Best defeat Bifford? Didn’t Max Kael run PerZag off? Aren’t these guys doing exactly that? Earning their spot?

Smith: It’s just…happening way too fast for my liking.

Hood: Fuck off with that bullshit. If you’re good, you’re good. Why sit around and fucking wait?

Smith: I guess

~Scene Opens. Backstage interviewer AKB as well as several media reporters were backstage outside Jason Kortare’s locker room. AKB was knocking on the door trying to get an interview with Jason. The media reporters and a few paparazzi were outside the door taking pictures. The door finally swings open as Marcus Welsh comes from inside the locker room~

[AKB]: “....Uuuuh, Mr. Welsh, is uuum Jason Kortare in there?”

~Jason Kortare steps out of the locker room in good spirits with a smile.~

[Jason]: “Wassup everybody.”

~Jason puts his arm around Marcus as he looks at all of the reporters.~

[AKB]: “Jason, we saw you attack PerZag last monday. I guess you were finally able to get some revenge on him. Before we get into your situation with PerZag, this sorta relationship you have going with Marcus right now, I mean, Jason we saw your home in Florida burn down to the ground, ever since then, the news is reporting that you have been staying with…..Marcus?”

~Jason sighs with a slight level of annoyance. He felt like people were being nosey.~

[Jason]: “Marcus is an awesome friend of mine. It’s been great to have him as somebody who is truly helping me when others have turned their backs on me.”

[News Reporter]: “So, you guys are sorta like…..Roommates?”

[Jason]: “Yes, and he keeps me up ALL night…”

~silent pause~

~Crowd Reaction~

[AKB]: “Uuuum…..”

[Jason]: “All night long, Marcus is giving me advice and words of motivation for my career here.”

[AKB]: “Oh….”

[News Reporter]: “So there’s no problem with you two under the same roof?”

[Jason]: “Well, he snores…”

~Jason grins with a little smile. crowd reacts! Jason starts to rub Marcus’s back gently from behind~

[Jason]: “Marcus is just great, I can’t imagine OCW being able to function without him. What I would love for Marcus to do is to possibly be able to put me versus PerZag, one on one at Block Party.”

Marcus: Haha, good one, Jason!

~Marcus pats Jason on the back~

Marcus: He’s joking of course...we all know I don’t snore. Snoring is for old people...or fat people...or both!

~A fat reporter grumbles~

Marcus: Sorry...I didn’t mean to single you out, pal. Regardless, I am a benevolent owner. Jason is one of our top talents. His house was burned down and he needed a place to stay so I offered him a spare bedroom. He’s been a tremendous house guest.

Reporter: What about that call you were seen taking, in private, from Jason the other day?

Marcus: You people really read too much into things. Jason had forgotten the code to disarm the house alarm. That’s all it was.

~The reporters murmur as if to say “we don’t believe that” but they note the explanation. Another question is asked~

Reporter: Are you going to book Jason against PerZag?

Marcus: Negative. As much as I’d like to see Jay-Jay...errr, Jason Kortare demolish PerZag it simply won’t happen. PerZag has decided to take a hiatus from OCW and return to Australia to deal with personal strife.

~The reporters are disappointed~

Marcus: Yes, yes, it is a disappointment. But, hey, no more questions. We’ve got a show to run! You all take notice and follow along...I’ve got a feeling tonight's going to be an important night.

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: Well that seemed completely unnecessary.

Hood: What are you talking about? That’s our GM! It’s important that we are kept up to date on his personal life. This is 2019, Smith.

Smith: I couldn’t are less, to be honest. Whatever he’s got going on with Greg and Jason Kortare and whoever else is his business. I just want to see a strong OCW product.

Hood: A happy Welsh means strong booking, Smith.

Smith: For now…but remember, it’s only temporary. Once Zybala’s run in the tournament comes to an end, Welsh is back in the commissioner’s chair.

Hood: Ugh, don’t remind me.

Smith: Anyway, speaking of Kortare…he’s in action and it’s next!

Singles Match
Jason Kortare (3-2) vs. Shootah (0-3)

Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to OCW Massacre!!! The following match is your first match of the evening and it is scheduled for one fall!!

Fans: ONE FALL!!

Belvedere: Coming to the ring first....

~A mixture of red and yellow lights begin to flicker among the stage. "Welcome to the Party" By French Montana (Feat. Lil' Pump & Zhavia Ward) begins to blast among the P.A. system. Jason Kortare walks among the stage with his head down and a towel hanging over his shoulders. He begins to shadow box with his fists aggressively on the stage.~

Belvedere: Standing in tonight at six feet, four inches and weighing Two hundred and forty six pounds, Jason Kortare!!!

~He makes his way down the ramp entrance way, he takes the towel off his shoulders and throws it into the crowd. He climbs up the ring post and steps inside the ring. Making his way to the center of the ring, he raises his arms high in victory. Putting his arms down, he makes his pecs bounce up and down with a serious and somewhat mysterious stare at a few of the women sitting in the front of the crowd.~

Smith: Kortare looking to bounce back from a tough lose last week.

Hood: Well, he's going up against Shootah, so the smart money is that Jason is gonna get a W this week.

Smith: You never know. Shootah might give us a repeat of John E. Depth versus the Ghost Man.

Hood: That was a one time fluke. It's SHOOTAH!! If you lose against him, that it man. Game over man. Game over!

Belvedere: And his opponent, already in the ring, Shootah!

~Belvedere exits the ring as Shootah poses for the crowd and starts to hype himself up on the cheers he's getting. Scruff quickly stops this, reminding Shootah of what happened last week. Shootah nods and Scruff calls for the bell. Kortare walks towards Shootah, who enthusiasticly points at Kortare as the crowd shouts "YOU!" Kortare, however, is having none of it. He balls up his hand and punches Shootah right in the face! Shootah falls on his ass, holding his jaw and looking at Kortare in shock~

Smith: Jason Kortare isn't messing around with Shootah's antics.

Hood: He might be in the wrong sport with a right hook like that!

~Shootah gets to his feet and Kortare grabs him by the arm and tries to throw Shootah into the ropes, but Shootah reverses the Irish Whip and sends Kortare into the ropes instead. Kortare hits the ropes and bounces off of them hard, leaping in the air with a spinning roundhouse kick! Kortare's foot connects hard with the side of Shootah's jaw, knocking his ass out. Kortare quickly drags Shootah to the center of the ring before going to the corner and climbs the turnbuckles. Kortare leaps off the top turnbuckle with the grace of a majestic gazelle and lands on Shootah with a picture perfect frogsplash! Kortare hooks the leg and Scruff makes the count~

3!!!!

~The bell rings as Kortare stands up with one foot on Shootah as Scruff raises Kortare's hand in the air~

Belvedere: Here is your winner, JASON KORTARE!!!!!

~The camera shows Vincent "The Legend" Langston as he's sitting in the back, holding the steel chain he used last week in his hands. He's captivated by the chain, adjusting it around his fist. Next to him. Who'Re suddenly appears, walking up with a mic.~

Who'Re: Vincent, I was wondering if you had a minute to talk about what happened last week.

~Langston doesn't even look at Who'Re, but he doesn't say no, so Who'Re takes that as acceptance.~

Who'Re: You surprised a lot of people by coming to the aid of Paul Paras, the man who defeated you for your first clean singles loss at Social Justice.

~Langston glares up at the mention of this loss, something he's been working to put behind him as of late. Who'Re, sensing disaster, takes a deep breath and moves on carefully.~

Who'Re: Why did you decide to help the champion?

~Langston looks like he's not inclined to answer, starting to get up, but changes his mind.~

Vincent Langston: The World Championship.. should be respected.

Who'Re: The championship?

Vincent Langston: It is a worthy goal to pursue. But only if it is honorably held. I see these assholes in the eMpire who do not believe in honor. Since Mario Maurako could not get the victory on his own, and seeing his time fade, he got with others who say they can make him the champion through a numbers game. But that is not how championships should be decided. It should be even. Not four-on-one.

Who'Re: So you weren't saving Paras, as much as the honor of the championship?

Vincent Langston: Paras is not without honor. He deserves a fair fight for that title. That's why I'll back him up, for now. When I get the opportunity, I will once again challenge him for the gold and learn if I have grown enough to defeat him. Until then, I'm more than pleased to beat the holy hell out of the eMpty, eMotionally-unstable, eMbarrassments known as the eMpire. They want me, they know where to find me.. and my chain.

~Langston stands up, swinging the chain in one hand. Who'Re darts back out of range, but Langston has no interest in hitting her. He turns and leaves the locker room. We go back to the arena.~

Smith: A determined Savage Champion with some strong words.

Hood: Determined, sure...but I'm not sure how intelligent he is. It's pretty obvious The eMpire is an unstoppable force...you'd think Langston would either add an 'M' to his name or get the fuck out of their way.

Smith: That's not in his DNA, Hood. Langston never backs down and he fights for what he believes in. It's pretty obvious he does not believe in the hand outs and free pub that these men from the eMpire have received since joining.

Hood: Hey just because Langston wasn't good enough to reach the main event in a month doesn't mean he should begrudge those who are. Sounds like sour milk to me!

Smith: Sour milk?

Hood: Yea, figured it had more of an impact than sour grapes.

Smith: Right...well Langston seems eager to help Paras out in his battle against the eMpire. Where will all this lead? I'm guessing we'll find out relatively soon.

Hood: Ooohhhh...foreshadowing...

Smith: In the meantime we're set for our next match as a very impressive newcomer by the name of Sterling Silver is set to make his debut. Let's head down to ringside!

Singles Match
Sterling Silver (0-0) vs. John E Depth (1-3)

~We cut back to the ring to see John E. Depth already waiting leaning in a corner as Belvedere stands in the middle of the ring, looking dapper as always~

Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one fall

Fans: ONE FALL!!!

Belvedere: Already standing in the ring, John E. Depth!

~The fans boo as the porn director poses and pelvic thrust towards some ladies in the crowd.~

Belvedere: And his opponent......

~The lights in the arena go out and multi-colored spotlights begin whirling around the arena as the intro to "Take On Me" by A-Ha pumps through the loudspeakers to a chorus of boos. Seconds later, Sterling Silver comes dancing out from behind the curtain and throws his arms out to the side, inviting another negative response from the crowd.~

Belvedere: Hailing from Neptune Beach, Florida, weighing in at Two hundred and twenty pounds. He is Sterling Silver!!

~Lip-synching along with the words of the song, Silver slowly makes his way down the aisle toward the ring, taunting the male fans along the rail and flirting with the females. Dancing up the ring steps, he slingshots himself over the rope and continues dancing until his music finally fades and the lights in the arena come back up. Belvedere exits the ring as Puff checks both competitors and calls for the bell to start the match~

Smith: Debut match for Silver tonight.

Hood: It won't be as easy as he thinks.

Smith: He's facing the guy who was disrespectful to Alice last week so I hope he gets the same treatment he gets every week. I quick loss.

Hood: Biased much? Don't forget that Depth is the only jobber with an actual win. That makes him basically the all-star of the enhancement talents.

~Depth walks towards Silver only to get nailed with a beautiful dropkick when he gets close enough. Depth falls to the mat as Silver stands with his arms spread wide, soaking in the boos. Depth gets to his feet only to be met with another dropkick by Silver, knocking Depth back into the ropes. Depth lightly bounces off the ropes and stumbles towards Silver, only to be met with a boot to the gut. Silver then puts Depth's head under his arm, lifts him up and drops Depth in his head! ~

Smith: What a Brainbuster! One more time!

Hood: What happened to your professional demeanor?

Smith: That went out the window when Depth insulted Alice Knight!

~Depth is writhing on the mat, holding his head as Silver is stalking him, waiting to strike. Depth crawls towards the ropes and uses them to drag himself to his feet. Silver is waiting behind him and when Depth turns around, Silver lifts him up on his shoulders in a fireman's carry position. Silver lifts Depth up and drops his face on his knee with a G.T.S.! Depth lands on his feet and falls backwards on the ropes. As he falls forward, Silver nails him with a superkick! Depth drops like a ton of bricks to the mat~

Hood: See ya Johnny. Better luck next time!

Smith: Quicksilver Supreme!! Pin him! Pin that cad!!

Hood: "Cad?" Good insult grandpa.

~Silver nonchalantly places a foot on Depth's chest as Puff makes the count.~

3!!!!

~The bell rings as Silver stands triumphant.~

Belvedere: Here is your winner, STERLING SILVER!!!!!

Smith: Impressive win by Sterling Silver.

Hood: I like this guy.

Smith: He’s got as much potential as any rookie we’ve seen join in a long time.

~Scene opens up with Bester standing in front of a concrete wall, facing it.~

BESTER: I’m not going to lie. It would have been nice to beat Mister Raven. I don’t care what Mister Jones or Mister Kelloggs say, he has to be related to Miss Raven somehow. Distant cousins maybe?

~Bester looks down at the floor for a second, and then looks at the wall in front of it. A small fleck of paint that has started to peel up catches his eye.~

BESTER: A couple of months ago, well more than a couple of months now. Anyways, when I first came to the OCW, when Mister Welsh offered me a contract. I ran into someone that worked at the PetSmart in town. My Kitty just loves going there. I let him pick out a new toy every payday and you wouldn’t think a cat wouldn’t know what day of the week it is, but trust me, Spartacus knows when I get paid.

~Bester places his finger on the paint chip and slowly wedges his finger under and pops it off. It falls to the floor. Bester looks down.~

BESTER: Come to find out she is my cousin from my Uncle Brad on a dad’s side of the family. Her name is Debbie. She likes Spartacus too. This whole time she was living right here in Key West and I never knew it. But then again, I never meet my Dad or meet anyone from his side of the family. I just have a couple of pictures that my Mom didn’t throw in the burning barrel and they have names on them. I never meet Uncle Brad either. I did meet all of my uncles on my mom’s side and boy, it is a huge family and they like to wrestle my mom. I still don’t understand that to be honest. I hope that I don’t run into any of them because I tried to remember their names, but I forgot some of them, although several of them were named John.

~Camera pulls away from Bester to reveal that he is standing in the corner, facing the corner of the new private locker room that Aubrey and Bester now share. Aubrey is getting ready for her match later on tonight, sliding up her garter belt get up. After getting them in place to her liking, Aubrey tries to tighten up her latex suit so she can tie the drawstrings that run the front of her suit. She tries and just can’t get them drawn in tight enough.~

Bester: Maybe Mister Raven and Miss Raven are cousins. I used to have a hard time beating Miss Raven too. She must have talked to him before the match.

~Aubrey looks at Bester standing in the corner of the very tiny locker room. Once 2 people are in the room, there is not a lot of wiggle room without bumping into each other. As Aubrey got dressed, Bester tries to suck himself into the corner, but she almost tripped over her two feet when she was completely nude and trying to slide her bottoms on and she ended up falling into Bester and smushing him up against the wall. (This tiny dressing room is lacking a chair or bench, only has one locker that both Aubrey and Bester have to share and the shower is open to the rest of the room.)~

AUBREY: Best. Sweetie. Can I ask you for a favor?

~Bester slowly starts to glance over his shoulder, to make sure that Miss Baxter isn’t still naked. Spotting that she has her gear on, He slowly turns around.~

BESTER: What is it Miss Baxter?

AUBREY: Can you pull on these?

~Aubrey holds out two drawstrings on her suit, just below her bust line.~

AUBREY: I have to tighten my waist up so I can….

~Aubrey pauses for a second and looks up at Bester, who is looking at the “drawstrings”~

AUBREY: I have to suck everything in so my girls aren’t bouncing around out there in the ring. I don't want to bruise them. I’ve got to strap them down I guess you can say. I just need a extra hand.

BESTER: Okay…..

~Bester takes a hold of the drawstrings and gives them a tug.~

AUBREY: A little more Best.

BESTER: Okay…..

~Bester tugs on them a bit harder as Aubrey adjusts her suit. As much as she tries, it still wasn’t enough.~

AUBREY: Harder Best! Like this.

~Aubrey places her hands on Besters and gives his hands a quick and firm tug away from her.~

AUBREY: Really pull on them. Help a girl out Best.

BESTER: Okay…..

~Bester yanks on them, hard! The suit tighten up quickly on Aubrey and this takes her surprise. She takes a deep breath and her eyes grow wide for a second. With Bester holding tightly back on the reigns, Aubrey finishes adjusting everything, including adjusting the “girls”.~

AUBREY: Thank Best.

~Aubrey looks up at Bester, looking in his eyes. She slides her hands on his and slowly takes the drawstrings back and ties them together. Due to the close quarters of the locker room, They are standing with less than a foot between them.~

AUBREY: No one has ever pulled on me like that. My suit never felt like this before.

BESTER: Okay…..

~Aubrey smirks.~

AUBREY: Guess you can say, no one has pulled my strings like that before.

~Bester’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of red. Aubrey smiles and touches the tip of Bester’s nose before spinning around.~

AUBREY: I’ve got stretch out my hammies Best.

~Aubrey then bends over, touching the floor and starts to warm up her hamstrings. Bester’s eyes grow wide and then he quickly starts to look around the room, at anything he can look out. He looks down at Aubrey bent over directly in front of him, he closes his eyes and quickly spins around and faces the corner again. Aubrey, while leaning towards her right ankle glances back to see Bester turning around and smirks.~

BESTER: It was nice to hear everyone chanting my name last week against Mister Raven. I really liked all of the cheers. I think I’m getting back in the good graces of my Rainbow Warriors. That is nice. I wish I could have won though. For them.

~Scene slowly fades with Bester picking at another paint chip.~

Smith: Bester continuing to find himself after his loss last week to James Raven.

Hood: He was just loss in them titties.

Smith: Hood!

Hood: What?

Smith: That's a dirty word!

Hood: So's fuck but you never have any issue when I say it.

Smith: Yes but, still...the way you said it - it offended me.

Hood: As a man or as a pussy?

Smith: Ugh, never mind.

~We cut backstage to the Dravers Boys who are in their locker room. Nathan and Jonathan are wearing pristine suits. But Nathan is facing away from the camera. Their locker room is dark lit only by one single lightbulb...~

Smith: Hood, I thought the locker rooms had decent lighting back there?

Hood: Fucked if I know. You know these idiots Smith. Besides, shouldn't they be in their fucking ring gear by now?

Smith: Yes, they should they -

~Suddenly Jonathan interrupts Smith.~

Jonathan: So Nathan, what are your thoughts about tonight?

~Nathan turns around, revealing he has something in his cheeks - much like when squirrels store nuts in their mouths, either side. Nathan begins to talk to the camera doing a damn spot on vocal impression of Marlon Brando as Vito Corleone. Nathan moves his right arm in a shrugging motion.~

Nathan: Ehh. Tonight. Tonight I'm gonna give the eMpire a choice. We're either gonna beat them to within an inch of their life...or we're gonna beat the shit out of them. We're gonna make them an offer they can't refuse.

Smith: Hahahahahahahahahaha… Oh...Hood you have to admit, the Dravers Boys are funny and Nathan's impression is spot on.

Hood: These guys are fuckin' tools. Jeez Smith, keep your pants on.

~Suddenly Jonathan is laying on the floor as if he's been shot. Nathan is cradling Jonathan.~

Nathan: Nooooooooooo! Jon! This match tonight...

~Jonathan coughs and splutters reaching for a piece of paper just out of reach. Nathan clutches the paper hurriedly.~

Nathan: This bit of paper?! This has our opponents on?!

~Jonathan splutters again nodding and he suddenly grabs the lapels of Nathan's jacket.~

Jonathan: Now! What....are....you....prepared to do?!

Hood: Fuck sake...

Smith: Hahaha... Mimicking the famous scene between Sean Connery and Kevin Costner in The Untouchables there. I've missed the twins...

Hood: I fuckin' haven't. Shouldn't they be getting serious?

Smith: Oh, lighten up, Hood! The boys are just having fun!

~The twins get up and dust themselves down.`

Jonathan: We better get ready.

Hood: About time!

~The camera cuts back to ringside.~

Smith: The Dravers are ready for action!

Hood: Yea, I'd say they'd have a chance if they weren't, you know, facing the eMpire.

Smith: Never count out Jonathan and Nathan. They are former tag team champions for a reason!

Hood: Yea, WEAK ASS BOOKING

Smith: They will face the eMpire later tonight. Next up, however, the debut of another talented tag team as Ninja Rebellion are set to take on Tornado Alley.

Tag Team Match
The Ninja Rebellion (0-0) vs. Tornado Alley (0-1)

~Vortex and Debris are already in the ring~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Vortex and Debris…Tornado Alley!

Smith: Tornado Alley, back in action.

Hood: One thing you can say about Tornado Alley…they are more predictable than the weather.

Smith: Indeed

Belvedere: And, their opponents…

~"Thunderstruck" as done by Leo Moracchioli hits the house P/A and upon the first utterance of the word THUNDER! Pyro explodes from the corrugated steel of the OCW stage. Out steps the Rebel and the Ginger Ninja in their full ring gear. The Rebel throuws her hands in the air, giving the crowd three fingered salutes as Molly throws her arms out at her sides, then brings them up above her head in an X pose~

~The two then look to each other with matching grins, fist bump with an explosion hand gesture, then burst down to the ring! The two arrive at ringside in quick fashion, leaping over the apron and sliding across the ring to the center of the canvas, side by side. They both then hop to their feet with Molly shouting out....~

Molly: WHO'S HERE FER AN ARSE WHUPPIN'?!!!!

~As Molly throws her arms out and repeats her X post in the middle of the ring, Melinda rushes to the nearest turnpost, rears back with her hands cupped around her mouth and lets out her Rebel yell...~

Rebel: AAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

~She then hops and joins Molly in their team corner as the two start talking strategy....~

*DING DING DING*

~The match starts off with Molly and Debris circling one another. Debris goes for a quick jab and is caught by the wrist and twisted into a tight wristlock. He slaps at his arm crying out in pain before Molly gives it another twist, then a straight hard arm drag to the canvas!~

~He gets up wringing his arm, his back to Molly which was a very bad move as she moves in quick, wraps her arms around his waist and yells out as she hits a snap German Suplex pin!~

ONE!

T-KICKOUT!

~Debris manages to kick out, Molly rolling away from him as the older man struggles to get to his feet. As he's doubled over with a hand to the small of his back, Molly bounces back, gets a running start, and hits a double foot stomp across the back, springboarding off of him with an impressive side flip and landing in a very Ninja like fashion! Rebel applauds from her corner.~

Molly: *shouting to Debris* ARE YE' OK LAD?! NEED A HAND UP?!

~He looks at her with a wince.~

Debris: Yes please....

~Molly gives him a mini standing ovation, a snicker playing across her lips. This seems to anger him, Debris launching towards Molly who merely side steps and jumps, clipping the man straight in his jaw and snapping his head back to the canvas.~

Molly: COME ON THEN! OFF YER ARSE AND ON YER FEET!!!

~She continues to taunt him as he slowly rolls to his feet, clutching at his jaw in pain. Quickly Debris starts crawling over to his corner and Molly doesn't even stop him as Vortex stares on in shock. Debris reaches out and Vortex looks between him, Molly, and Rebel. The Ginger Ninja slaps her hands together with a wicked grin repeatedly.~

Molly: TAG HIM!! I DARE YE' LAD! DO IT!!!! DDDDDOOOOOO IIIIIITTTTT!!!

~Vortex throws his hands up and immediately drops down, Debris shouting out.~

Debris: VORTEX! DUDE!!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!

~He bursts into a sprint around the ring only to be caught with a boot to the gut and promptly dropped with THE SHOT IN THE DARK!!!! The Rebel bounces back to her feet on impact with a Rebel Yell!~

Rebel: AAAAAAWWWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooo!!!!

~Molly gathers Debris up by the foot and pulls him away from the ropes, clawing at the ground by a surprising thing happens, he manages to get up on one foot and attempts and enziguri kick but The Ginger Ninja ducks it with ease! He falls to the canvas flat on his stomach!~

~Seconds later Molly moves in on him, wrapping her arms around his gut and heaving him off the canvas with a mighty display of effort, the Rebel on the apron clapping her on! Up and over Molly delivers Debris to the canvas with a hard Deadlift German Suplex! She bounces up on impact, flexing her toned, freckled arms and lets out a wild cry!~

Molly: FFFFAAAAWWWWKKKKKK YYYYYYEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!

~As Debris rolls onto his back, Molly rushes to the nearest turnpost, vaults to the top and front flips off with THE MOLLY BOMBER! Splashing swanton style across his midsection with enough force that he sits up, coughing coarsely. Molly calls the Rebel into the ring and the two talk for a moment while Debris lays flat on his back. With a wild nod, the Rebel slips behind her and locks on a rear waistlock!~

Molly: DIRTAE' BIRD SSSPPPPEEECCCIIIIAAAALLLLL!!!!

~She's then tossed up and over, high in the air. Molly bridges perfectly through the air, hitting a double rotation Moonsault and landing across Debris, hooking his leg for the pin!~

ONE!!!!

~At that moment Vortex was slipping through the ropes and the Rebel, thinking fast hits THE RHODES KILL ON VORTEX!~

TTTWWOOO!!!

~The Rebel hops to her feet with dual three fingered salutes for the fans!~

TTTTTHHHHRRREEE!!!

*DING DING DING!*

~"Thunderstruck" Hit's the P/A system as Molly and the Rebel play it up for the fans!~

Belvedere: YOUR WINNER'S BY PINFALL, MOLLY HATCHET AND MELINDA RHODES, THE NNNNNNINJA RRRRREEEEEBBBBBEEEELLLLLIIIIIOOOONNNN!!!!!

~Molly takes the microphone from the Ring Announcer, bringing it straight to her lips.~

Molly: IF THIS IS WHAT WE DO WITH OLD OUT OF SHAPE STORM CHASERS, YE'LL LOVE WHAT WE DO TA' REAL TALENT!!!!! TILL NEXT TIME ALL YE' MAGNIFICENT BASTARDS!!! WWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOO YYYYYEEEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

~Molly then tossed the microphone to Belvedere and exited the ring with a chuckling Melinda Rhodes, the two heading straight for the backstage area!~

Smith: Impressive win by Ninja Rebellion!

Hood: Those are two dangerous women.

Smith: Indeed…Melinda, a former tag team champion has her sights set on a second reign with a more amenable partner.

Hood: I don’t know what that means but it sounds accurate.

Smith: It is.

~Backstage, OCW interviewer Jones is stationed next to a dressing room door bearing a gleaming golden nameplate that reads “OCW Champion.” Jones smiles for the camera, excited to have another shot at his job.~

Jones: Hello ladies and gentlemen, this is Jones, and boy oh boy do I have a treat for you tonight! After last week’s turn of events involving “The Legend” Vincent Langston and the eMpire, I’m here to get the exclusive first word with our OCW World Champion, my good friend, Paul Paras! This is my moment! Mom always said it would come. Mr. Welsh can’t help but notice the great work I’m doing and put me back in Smith’s place on commentary…

~Jones is practically giddy as he dreamily looks up into the fluorescent hallway lights when the door clicks open.~

Jones: Oh! Here he is now! Triple P, a word for your old buddy…?

~The door gently swings open as a figure steps out… a figure that is obviously not Paul Paras. A woman in her late 20s steps into the light, tying her dusky hair back with a blue hair tie. A sky blue retro Perfectly Marvelous t-shirt hangs loosely over a black tanktop and matching workout shorts. One shoulder of the shirt dangles precariously while the other stays strongly anchored. The woman’s wide brown eyes lock with Jones’ as they both stand awkwardly for an extended moment.~

Jones: …Hello!

Raleigh Falkner: Hi.

Jones: I’m Jones!

Raleigh Falkner: I know!

Jones: Oh, great! And you’re Raleigh, right?

Raleigh Falkner: Sure am!

Jones: Yes!

Raleigh Falkner: Totally.

~Jones appears rather pleased with himself at his journalistic skill, nodding excitedly with his mouth hanging slightly open. Raleigh averts her eyes from him and scrunches her lips toward the right side of her face as if she’d very likely rather be anywhere else. Perhaps Reno. Or Hades. Or even Ohio.~

Raleigh Falkner: …Did…you need something? Or should I go back inside and pretend this never happened?

~Jones’ wits come back to him as he stands up straight and adjusts his tie for television.~

Jones: Oh, right! Miss Raleigh, you have been traveling with Paul Paras for the last few months. I understand you have a close relationship (but not as close as me and Paul… we go WAY back). Can you give our OCW fans any insight on how Triple P is feeling after last week’s surprising events?

~Raleigh takes a deep breath, this being perhaps her first formal interview… even if it is with Jones.~

Raleigh Falkner: So, um… he’s not really going by “Triple P” anymore, first off. Paul taught me that it takes a radiant spirit to realize you don’t have to hide behind names like “Perfect” for everyone to know you’re the greatest wrestler in the universe. Triple P Yoga is the brand, but Paul Paras is the man!

Jones: Darn right he’s the man! I mean… okay, got it. So how is Paul Paras feeling?

Voice: Paul Paras is feeling like you need to learn how to not invade a woman’s aura when she doesn’t give consent.

~Jones leaps nearly out of his shoes as the camera pans over to find OCW World Champion Paul Paras standing behind him. Paras wears his black jacket and jeans with a charcoal gray t-shirt with the OCW Hall of Fame emblem emblazoned in white. On his shoulder sits the OCW World Title belt. On his face sits a knowing, driven smirk as the fans watching in the arena erupt into cheers. Raleigh stifles laughter as Jones collects himself for the second time in as many minutes.~

Jones: Triple… I mean… Paul… hello!

Paul Paras: Joines.

Jones: Joines? I haven’t used that name in years!

Paul Paras: I fail to see how that’s my concern.

Jones: Erm… right. Okay. So Paul, last week you tried to take on the eMpire four-on-one, but Mario hit you with your belt, and they put you in a world of hurt. That same belt, Mario earned a shot at with Mike Best’s victory over Bifford a few weeks ago. But Vincent Langston, the man you defeated in a war at Social Justice, came to your aid! Where does the World Champion go from here?

~Paras takes a glance at his World Title before speaking.~

Paul Paras: Last week, I showed the world exactly where the World Champion is going. Everywhere…

~He glances over to Raleigh, who smiles coyly.~

Paul Paras: Nowhere…

~Now he looks to Jones.~

Paul Paras: And absolutely anywhere my spirit carries me. Last week, I reminded this plane of existence that no one… not the skeletons in my closet, not the monsters of my childhood dreams, and not the sycophant who purported to be my best friend… can intimidate me. And not one of them can stop me from holding this title with every ounce of respect it deserves. Respect… I might add… that Mike Best, Max Kael, and their new side piece Farthington have conveniently forgotten to show the OCW roster since arriving here. How sad for them. That forgetfulness is likely to get them hurt.

~The crowd pops for this idea.~

Paras Paras: As for Mario having a title shot, that’s true. Marcus Welsh seems to be so preoccupied by Jason Kortare, millennial revolutionaries, and the Florida homeless population, he seems to have forgotten how to properly decide World Title contenders. That sort of forgetfulness is definitely going to get Mario hurt.

~The Zen Master turns toward the camera, his voice staying calm despite the apparent intensity in his eyes.~

Paul Paras: Mario, my brother, I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt. You and I have a history that spans further than the stars, and I’ve seen you blindly follow everyone from your Family to TGO to President Dean himself in the promise that you would become OCW Champion. Yet, you blame me for your shortcomings. You blame Cyanide. You blame the very people who stood by you no matter what; the ones who supported you when you rose up from Lee Best’s corporate hell and became HOW Champion. And now, you’ve aligned yourself with the people who held you back in that godforsaken company; the very people you had to overcome to show the world what you’re capable of. But should you be unfortunate enough to be the lucky “TBA” and get put in a match with me at Block Party, take heart in the fact that I will have no issue showing the world exactly what Paul Paras is capable of… best friend.

Jones: And what about Vincent Langston?

~Paras doesn’t break his gaze at the camera, despite Jones’ question. Raleigh calmly pulls the microphone back toward her.~

Raleigh Falkner: Vincent… I know Paul won’t ever say it… but thank you for last week. And for Social Justice. Without you taking him to the limit in the chain match, Paul might not have been prepared for the battle he now has in front of him. You proved to everyone that you are a worthy competitor, and if I know Paul like I do, he’ll look forward to the chance to defend the title against you again!

~The fans pop for that thought as well.~

Raleigh Falkner: But what he will say is this…

~Paras pulls the microphone back toward him as Jones staggers to stay balanced.~

Paul Paras: Langston, you have my respect. Now, in the spirit of competition, and since Welsh can’t make a simple decision, I’m here to challenge anyone who thinks they can take this belt from me at Block Party. Throw one, two, or the whole roster at me like Mike Best’s sociopath father used to do. I am OCW Champion because I have beaten the unbeatable time and time again. At Block Party, the only thing “to be announced” will be “Still OCW World Champion—the Minnesota Messiah, Paul Paras."

~The camera focuses on Paras’ face and then the OCW Title before fading back to ringside.~

Smith: We’re getting down to crunch time…Welsh needs to figure out who TBA is going to be!

Hood: It’s Meyhu, obviously.

Smith: Then why hasn’t it been announced?

Hood: Because Welsh has been dealing with homeless people and other shit. He’s a busy man!

Smith: Zybala could be back in power by the end of tonight, Hood. It seems as though the time…if Welsh wants to have his hand in things…it seems as though the time to make an announcement would be – now.

Hood: I’m sure he has a plan, Smith. A great plan.

Smith: Now you’ve got me scared.

~We return backstage to find Maximillian Kael standing by with AKB, the Prime Minister of the eMpire appears to be wearing a foul expression. His hands rest on his hips while his wild, greasy hair is combed back, streaks of grey giving Max a wild, crazed look. A single blue eye stares forward as AKB begins the interview~

AKB: Max Kael, last week Mike Best called you the Minister of the eMpire, the spearhead that would be driven into OCW in your collective mission to help Mario Maurako become the next OCW Champion.. Do you have anything to add to that?

~Max blinks his eye lazily as he turns his head to look down at AKB, his foul sneer melting back into a gnarl toothed grin~

Max Kael: Michael always does say the nicest things about me but flowery language and an extended vocabulary aren’t really my repertoire. I’m more of the solutions guy, the eMpire finds itself in a quandary and I do what I can to find an amicable solution.. Usually with violence.

~The grin stretches into a wicked smile as Max turns his head slowly toward the camera, his hands rubbing together as a gleeful shimmer flashes in his eye.~

AKB: Speaking of violence, recently you’ve been making quite a splash with some of the talent here in OCW. There are rumors that you are the reason that former OCW Champion PerZag retired and, as has been noted on several occasions, you have a standing open challenge to any talent here in OCW. Do you have any comments on any of that?

~The Lord of Kaelsavania nods his head enthusiastically, those rotten gums and sour teeth even more visible~

Max Kael: Of course. First of all I’d like to address PerZag. I did you a favor, stripping you of the burden of the word WORTHY. I understand how hard it is to stand up for WORTHINESS but rest assured, upon my strong, broad shoulders the WORTH of the word WORTHY is well represented. So go ahead and run, go ahead and retire. Go ahead and fuck off to Legoland for all I care, if all you were was a catch phrase and a word that denominates value then you have no business being in the same building as me. Pound sign WORTH, pound sign WhatsAPerZag.

~Turning his head toward AKB Max once again frowns a little, sizing the man up before he snatches the microphone out of his hand. Max threatens to punch the smaller man causing AKB to stumble back and shrink off camera. Max turns his attention back toward the camera, his smile returning~

Max Kael: As for my open challenge, Ariel Shadows seems to have disappeared from the face of OCW so I guess that one’s going to be going unanswered. Next after that we have Hayley “The Hellraven” Robinson, who has twice accepted my challenge and still has yet to follow through. I guess she learned the art of the skillful duck and dodge from Ariel Shadows and the rest of the Mad People. Don’t worry though, Hayley, so long as you’re hellraving it up in OCW I’ll have my eye on you. And rest assured, my little Birdie, your time is quickly arriving, fam. Oh and by the way, you will never be WORT-

~Before Max can finished two figures move into the shot. The Dravers Boys, Jonathan and Nathan, step up to Max, all three men going eyes.. To.. eye, no words exchanged as they engage in a Key West Showdown which is like a Mexican showdown but everyone has their papers~

~Suddenly Cecilworth Farthington appears from behind Max, his scarf flowing elegantly in a breeze that does not seem to exist. Joining his partner, Max, Cecilworth brings in an extra pair of eyes bringing the total number of staring eyeballs up to seven. The tense moment seems to grow before the Dravers break away, heading toward the arena floor in anticipation for their match. Cecilworth seems surprised, his eyes wide as he watches the twins walk away~

Cecilworth: ..Max.. it doesn’t look like the ritual worked.. There’s still two of them!

Max Kael: Really?! Fiddlesticks..I have one eye so I only see half of what you do.. We'll just have to do this the old fashion way..

~Max and Cecilworth collect themselves and move of camera though Cecilworth’s scarf seems to linger, blowing beautifully as it follows behind him~

Smith: Big match coming up, Hood!

Hood: Poor Max, man...nobody wants to play with him. Everyone keeps ducking him. You think it's because he only has one eye?

Smith: Nobody is ducking him! Situations take place beyond people's control. He's just been unlucky in that regard.

Hood: Nah, they are ducking him. It's been happening alot lately. He drove up to McDonalds and nobody was at the drive thru window...everyone is ducking Max Kael.

Smith: Well I don't know about that...but I do know the Dravers are here and they are ready to fight! That match is up next!

Tag Team Match
The Dravers Boys (2-0) vs. The eMpire (0-0)

~The fans are still buzzing over that Ninja Rebellion debut. Those chicks looked good, didn’t they? Is it safe to call them chicks? I don’t know. But I feel uncomfortable asking. Anyway, the fans are ready for some LEGIT action. Enough with this squash match bullshit. Belvedere clears his throat to a huge ovation from the fans – they realize what’s on tap~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is a tag team contest and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~That all too familiar theme of the eMpire blasts throughout the arena to the loudest negative reaction of the evening. Max Kael and Cecilworth M! Farthington emerge from behind the curtain. Max looks around the arena, scanning people with his one, good eye. Cecilworth exudes a very arrogant aura. He also seems to be easily distracted. Max pats him on the back and motions for Cecilworth to head down to the ring. The duo make their way to ringside~

Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 423lbs…Cecilworth M! Farthington and Max Kael…the eMpire!!!

~Kael and CMF enter into the ring. CMF looks at Belvedere, scoffing at his ‘off the rack’ attire. Max remains focused, staring down the ramp way~

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…they are…The Dravers Boys!!!

~HUGE ovation for Nathan and Jonathan. They appear ready for action! Belvedere steps out of the ring. The bell sounds~

Smith: Two years ago Nathan and Jonathan, at that time OCW tag team champions, faced a new faction named The Aptitude. They lost their tag titles that evening. The Aptitude would go on to dominate OCW.

Hood: And tonight history repeats itself.

Smith: That remains to be seen, Hood.

~CMF seems eager to start the match for his team. Max finds no reason to argue – probably wouldn’t be worth the losing effort. So, Kael takes a spot on the apron. Nathan and Jonathan go over a quick strategy before Jonathan steps out, giving Nathan the opportunity to start. Nathan turns around and faces CMF. The crowd is hot. They chant “DRAVERS! DRAVERS!” Nathan claps his hands along with the fans, fired up~

Smith: Alright! C’mon, Nathan…let’s get this match off on the right foot!

Hood: Do you think the left foot has some self-image issues due to the right foot getting so much pub?

Smith: I’ve honestly never thought about that.

Hood: That’s what I’m here for…bringing the real questions to light.

~CMF looks around at the clapping. He nods and says “Thank you, it’s great to be here!” Nathan pauses, nonplussed. He points at CMF. The fans BOOO. He does the double thumb point at himself…the fans go wild. CMF charges at Nathan. They lock up! CMF puts Nathan in a side head lock. Nathan shoots CMF into the ropes…CMF bounces off. Nathan leaps into the air and smacks CMF in the face with a standing dropkick!! CMF hits the mat and rolls out of the ring. Nathan pops back to his feet to a huge ovation~

Smith: Fast start for Nathan!

Hood: How dare he distract Cecilworth like that in order to take advantage. What a jerk! His pink hair sucks, too.

Smith: That last bit was rather unnecessary.

Hood: Pink hair is for people who jack off to anime. Nathan must jack off to anime.

~Nathan grabs the top rope. Jonathan asks for a tag but Nathan is like “I got this, bro!” Nathan leaps over the top rope, looking for a planca. CMF looks up and delivers a vicious forearm uppercut to the descending Dravers. Nathan’s body snaps back…it winds up hitting the apron, which keeps him upright. CMF charges forward with a huge lariat that smacks into Nathan’s chest. Nathan teeters forward, falling face first outside. A frustrated Jonathan stomps his foot on the apron and urges the fans to remain behind his brother~

Smith: Nathan can get a little overeager at times

Hood: Dude wants to be a star, Smith. Sometimes stars fall.

Smith: That was a rough landing, for sure…Farthington may be something of an enigma, but don’t let his personality fool you…he’s very, very talented.

Hood: No shit, he’s in the fucking eMpire, man.

~CMF grabs Nathan and tosses him back into the ring. He slides in and tries a quick pin. Scruff makes the count~

Kick Out!

Smith: Nathan’s got too much heart to go out that quickly.

Hood: Or not enough brains. Guy might want to just stay down…live to fight another day.

~CMF seems to think it should have been three. He reaches around his pants as if he’s looking for money. Sadly, he’s wearing his in-ring attire and is therefore wallet-less. He makes an offer to Scruff, with both men back on their feet. He offers Scruff an undisclosed amount if he’ll go ahead and just say it was three. Scruff seems taken back by this proposal~

Smith: He’s going to learn he can’t buy his way through everything.

Hood: Why not? Take the money, Scruff…I’m sure whatever Farthington offered him is more than he’ll make this entire year.

Smith: Or maybe Scruff has too much integrity…ever thought about that?

Hood: No, I haven’t…you want to know why? Because it’s a stupid fucking thought.

~While CMF continues to argue with Scruff, confused as to why this transaction isn’t working, Nathan recovers enough to roll CMF up!! Scruff dives to the mat, making the count~

Kick Out!

Smith: Wow!! Nathan nearly stole it!

Hood: Pay attention, M!

Smith: Cecilworth is going to have to learn that you can’t take your eye off your opponent…especially in OCW.

Hood: Eye? Is that some kinda dig at Max Kael?

Smith: Of course not!

~CMF rushes back to his feet. Nathan pops up and drops CMF with a codebreaker!!! CMF stumbles back, into the Dravers corner. Nathan returns to his feet and tags Jonathan back in. Jonathan stands in the center of the ring. Nathan whips CMF his brother’s way. Jonathan spins around and nearly takes CMF’s head off with a discus lariat!!! CMF turns inside out, landing flat on his back in the center of the ring. The “DRAVERS” chants increase in volume~

Smith: Great teamwork by the twins. They’ve got the advantage now.

Hood: Alright guys, enough fucking around. Get that one eyed psychopath in the ring…let’s go!

Smith: Farthington has to make the tag, Hood. Right now, he’s at the Dravers’ mercy.

~Jonathan foregoes a pin attempt in order to keep applying offense to the prone Farthington. He pulls CMF up and whips him into a corner. CMF hits hard. Jonathan charges in and leaps into the air with a huge splash!! CMF comes staggering out. Jonathan hops onto the middle rope, facing CMF’s back. He leaps off and drives CMF face first into the mat with a bulldog!!! CMF is down!! Jonathan rolls him over for the pin…we see Max motion like he’s going to enter into the ring. Scruff counts~

KICK OUT!

Smith: Kick out by Farthington!

Hood: Shit…this is getting too close. We need the eye of Lee Best.

Smith: Excuse me?

Hood: I believe Max’s good eye isn’t his eye at all…it’s Lee’s.

Smith: That might be the most horrid thing I’ve ever heard.

~Jonathan pops back to his feet. Nathan extends his arm for a tag. Jonathan holds up the ‘one minute’ finger. He pulls CMF up and hooks him for a Northern Lights Suplex. CMF jams his finger into Jonathan’s ear! Jonathan is stunned and temporarily frozen. CMF takes control and falls back, slamming Jonathan’s head into the mat with a DDT! Jonathan remains face down. CMF gets to all fours and crawls toward his corner tagging in Max. There is a definite ‘OH SHIT’ vibe permeating throughout the OCW Arena~

Smith: How the tide can turn…Farthington hit a DDT and tags in Max Kael.

Hood: The Dravers haven’t faced anyone…anything like Max Kael. Goodnight, boys.

Smith: Do not underestimate their fight.

~Kael enters into the ring. Jonathan does a sit up. He looks over at Nathan, whose arm is outstretched. He starts to crawl that way when Max runs forward and kicks him in the back of the head, flattening Jonathan out. The fans boo. Max and his one, borrowed eye, glare at Nathan who appears furious. Nathan starts to enter into the ring but Scruff runs over to prevent him. Max uses this ‘blind ref’ moment to drop down and choke Jonathan. Jonathan coughs and kicks…Max chokes and chokes. Nathan is pleading with Scruff but he’s got one leg in the ring, so Scruff is busy trying to get him back on the apron. Finally, Nathan realizes his error and steps all the way out. Scruff turns around and finds a very legal Max Kael pulling Jonathan up to his feet~

Smith: He was choking Jonathan for at least twenty seconds!

Hood: Yea well blame Nathan for being an idiot.

Smith: He’s passionate!

Hood: I think some of that pink dye has infected his brain.

~Jonathan is standing in the center of the ring. Max measures him up and lunges forward with a Mongolian Chop!! Jonathan stumbles back. Max hits him with another Mongolian Chop! Jonathan falls back into a corner. Max hits a third Mongolian Chop! Jonathan falls to the mat. Max takes his foot and he kicks Jonathan right in the face. The fans boo Max’s direct, hard hitting offense~

Smith: Those Mongolian Chops are absolutely brutal.

Hood: Yes, but can they break down walls?

Smith: I’m not answering that.

~Max pulls Jonathan off the mat, placing him against the corner, standing. Max delivers a few left jabs. Jonathan’s head bounces around. Max suddenly and viciously delivers a huge right hand that sends Jonathan crumbling back to the mat. The eye patched HOW legend pauses and looks around the crowd. They chant “YOU SUCK! YOU SUCK!” A sharp grin cuts across his face, enjoying the reaction~

Smith: This is decimation, Hood. Max may be too much for the young Dravers.

Hood: Yea man the Dravers are pretty good – for the REC center. Max is an NBA all-star.

~Max hoists Jonathan onto his shoulders. He heads into the center of the ring and drops back with a Samoan Drop! He lays on top of Jonathan, in a very relaxed posture. Scruff slides in with the count~

Shoulder Up!

Smith: Samoan Drop by Max for the near fall!

Hood: Mongolia…Samoan…an international man!

~Kael is unfazed by the near fall. He sits up and returns to his feet. He pulls Jonathan back up. Jonathan teeters back and forth, on the verge of collapse. Max measures him up and spins around with a forearm smash…but Jonathan DUCKS!!! Max stumbles forward. He pivots around, quickly and eats a SUPERKICK from Jonathan!!! Max falls back, onto the mat, stunned! The crowd goes wild!! Nathan jumps up and down, arm extended. The fans chant “TAG! TAG!” Jonathan is face down, still suffering the impact of Max’s offense~

Smith: Yes! Superkick from Jonathan! C’mon, you’ve got this! Tag Nathan in…you guys have a chance!

Hood: Ah shit…Max and that giant chin. Is there such a thing as chin reduction?

Smith: I have no idea but I wouldn’t be surprised.

~Jonathan looks up and locks eyes with his brother, Nathan. He begins the crawl toward salvation. Max suddenly sits up! The crowd is stunned. They implore Jonathan to hurrrry up! Jonathan crawls faster. Max turns around and reaches for Jonathan’s leg. He grabs it!! Max gets to his feet. Jonathan bounces around with his leg in Kael’s grasp. He reaches for Nathan’s hand but is too far away. He musters up his energy and spins around, smacking Kael in the side of the head with a roundhouse enziguri!!! Kael is rocked!!! He stumbles around the ring, shaking his head…his lone eye blinking rapidly. Jonathan lunges forward and tags in Nathan!! The fans go wild~

Smith: And here comes Nathan!!

Hood: Booo!!!

Smith: Stifle your booing!

~Nathan leaps over the top rope and into the ring. He charges at Max and takes him down with a clothesline!!! Max gets back up, quickly. Nathan runs into the ropes, bounces off and takes Max down again with a spinning heel kick!!! Max gets up once more, slower than before. Nathan kips up and motions for Max to come at him. Nathan lunges forward with a SUPERKICK!!! Max falls to the mat!! Nathan hops on top of Max for the cover! The fans count along~

NO!!!

Smith: Farthington broke up the pin!

Hood: Yes! Told you the guy could think on his own!

Smith: I never questioned that…he’s not, ya know, stupid. He’s simply immature.

~Scruff tries to get CMF out of the ring. Jonathan, furious over what’s transpired, steps through the ropes and charges at CMF. He dives at CMF…they fall into the ropes, flipping over the top rope and to the outside with a painful looking impact. Nathan is on his feet, holding up three fingers. Scruff motions that the pin was broken up. Nathan wants to know HOW that was legal. Scruff doesn’t have much of an answer~

Smith: Nathan is right to be upset! They had Max Kael pinned only for Farthington to run in there, without tagging in, and breaking up the pin. That should be a clear disqualification.

Hood: Scruff is allowing it…the man knows where his bread is buttered.

Smith: I’m starting to sense a conspiracy!

~Max is suddenly on his feet…the dude doesn’t stay down long. He walks up behind an agitated Nathan and spins him around. He delivers a WICKED head butt, leading with steel reinforced left eye! Nathan tries to fall to the mat, but Max holds onto Nathan’s pink hair, keeping him upright. He hooks Nathan for what looks like a rock bottom but, instead, drops to the mat, devastating Nathan’s jaw!!! Nathan falls to the mat, limp. Max makes the cover. Jonathan looks up and tries to dive in, but CMF grabs him from behind. Scruff slides in with the count~

3!!!

~The bell rings. The crowd boos~

Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE EMPIRE!!!!!

Smith: Sickening! The Dravers should have won via disqualification!

Hood: Buuuuut they didn’t.

~Jonathan finally gets free and slides into the ring to check on Nathan. Max contemplates hurting him. He then sees CMF on the outside arguing with a fan over the effectiveness of ATMs. He decides this requires his immediate attention, slipping under the bottom rope and corralling his partner before CMF gets himself in legit trouble~

Smith: This is the Aptitude all over again. These men are going to be allowed to run roughshod all over this great company.

Hood: Dude, they are earning it!

Smith: Not right now…not just then…The Dravers should be the winners. I will not stand for this! I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT!

Hood: Well, I’d say it’s a good thing we remain seated during 95% of our job, then.

Smith: The record books will show an eMpire victory but in my heart and the hearts of others, the DRAVERS were the real winners tonight.

Hood: That is so fucking gay.

Smith: Ugh, let’s cut to something else. I need these filthy eMpire people off my screen.

~We cut to EARLIER TODAY footage. Marcus Welsh’s now well recognized sports car pulls into his all too familiar parking space blasting “I’M TOO SEXY.” The engine stops and out steps Marcus. Greg slips out of the passenger’s side. The duo head toward the arena door. Marcus appears tentative~

Greg: Everything okay?

Marcus Welsh: I’ve got a sick case of déjà vu, Greggers. This all feels too familiar…like something nefarious is afoot.

~Marcus pauses and turns to the spot where Alice and her collection of homeless people have been residing. It’s bare. There’s no RV. There are no homeless people. And, most importantly of all, there is no mustard. Marcus lowers his shades~

Marcus Welsh: You know that feeling before a storm? How shit gets all quiet and peaceful right before you’re slammed with the nastiest shit imaginable?

~Greg is busy playing with his phone. He appears to be viewing his cart on Amazon~

Marcus Welsh: That’s what this feels like.

~The security guard consumed by ants a few weeks earlier walks up~

Security Guard: Mr. Welsh!

~Welsh leans back, observing the guard as though he were some type of specter~

Security Guard: Would you like me to escort you into the building?

Marcus Welsh: Ant bites healed up pretty quick, did they?

Security Guard: Ant bites? Haha!

~Welsh looks at Greg for clarity. Greg hits ‘buy’ on his cart. Welsh scratches his head, questioning his sanity~

Security Guard: Good one, sir! Oh, have you given that raise any thought?

Marcus Welsh: Oh so you remember THAT, huh? Out of my way!

~An angry Welsh blows past the Security Guard, heading for the arena. The suddenly disgruntled employee says under his breath~

Security Guard: Zybala.

~We cut back to ringside and live footage~

Smith: I hope Alice is okay!

Hood: She’s like a cockroach, Smith. She’d, unfortunately, survive a nuclear blast. I’m sure she’s fine. The person we need to be worried about is Welsh! All this stress…this Groundhog Day situation that keeps repeating itself.

Smith: There was a break in the cycle this week, Hood. The timeline has been altered.

Hood: Whatever the fuck that means…I just hope Alice stays away. It’s great that she’s gone from the parking lot but…if she isn’t there, that means she’s somewhere…

Smith: Oh Alice, how we love thee!

Hood: Speak for your fucking self

Craze #1 Contenders Match
Fatal Four Way
Evin Empire (8-1) vs. Aubrey Baxter-Kalei (4-1) vs. Jasmine Martini (1-1) vs. Myst (1-1)

Belvedere: The next match is scheduled for one fall, and is a Fatal Fourway for a shot at the OCW Craze Championship! Introducing first...

~Shades of pink lights begin to flicker around the stage area. "Whatever U Like" By Nicole Scherzinger (Feat. T.I.) blasts over the P.A. system!~

Belvedere: From Toronto, Canada, standing 5'6" and weighing in at 132 lbs, here is AUBREY BAXTER-KALEI!!

~Aubrey Baxter-Kalei comes from behind the curtain as she appears on the stage. She seductively takes a bow on the stage as she let's her hair fall, she comes back up and strokes her hair back as she makes her way down the entrance ramp way. Making her way over to the ring post, she sits up on the ring post and crosses her legs and poses while leaning over to her right side. She crawls under the ring and makes her way over to the center. She takes another bow and then poses once more.~

Smith: Aubrey has been making waves since coming to OCW, having a record of 4-1.

Hood: I've been hearing she's been making waves on a waterbed with Bester.

Smith: Hood! She's a married woman! She's just working with Bester for the good of her career!

Hood: Hey, that's the gossip that's going around, and as the gossip commentator, it's my job to bring it up!

Smith: ... There's no such thing as a gossip commentator.

Hood: There's not? Well, there should be.

~The song Broken Dreams by Shaman's Harvest starts to play over the PA system.~

Belvedere: Our second competitor, standing 5'6" and weighing 130 lbs, from Atlanta, GA, here is... JASMINE MARTINI!!

~The beautiful Jasmine Martini starts to come on out and the fans cheer for her. She gives our a sexy sadistic smile and goes to the ring. When she gets into the ring, she stands in her corner staring at Baxter-Kalei and waiting for her other opponents to arrive.~

Smith: Martini is still looking for her big victory here in OCW. Maybe tonight will be the night!

Hood: I'd say the odds are against her, but some women like...

Smith: Don't even finish what you're going to say, Hood.

Hood: I was just going to say the challenge! Some women like the challenge!

Smith: Oh, I thought... never mind what I thought.

Hood: You have a dirty mind sometimes, Smith.

Smith: I blame you.

~ The sound of hissing steam pipes through the speakers as a slow rolling wave of smoke begins to creep out from the ramp like the tide rolling in from the ocean.~

Belvedere: Our third entrant, standing 6'11" and weighing 345 lbs, from The Congo, here is... MYST!!

~The arena feigns darkness with a dim blue glow emitting from the lights. Out walks a small hunched over man in white robes carrying a small dirty silver lantern in which a similar blue light is shining. He paves a way through the thickening fog and stops atop the entrance ramp and turns back with the lantern ahead of him. Out to the ramp walks a giant 6'11" being with long silver hair flowing around a white mask lined with 3 diagonal black stripes that wraps around the contours of his face. His long white wrestling singlet has a single black strap that cuts across his bulking upper body. As soon as the monster appears, the small monk turns back towards the ring and slowly leads Myst towards the ring. As they get closer, smoke begins to pour out from under the ring and engulf the apron and stairs. The monk stops ringside and sweeps the lantern in a motion across his body from Myst towards the ring. Myst, who has stopped a few feet from ringside walks near and begins his slow ascent up the stairs towards the turnbuckle. He easily steps over the top rope and enters the ring that is slowly attracting a shallow covering of smoke. He looks over to the monk who extinguishes the dim blue light from the lantern as the lights raise back to normal.~

Smith: I would say Myst is the most terrifying of the wrestlers in this match.

Hood: That monk with him freaks me out more. Did you hear him talk about cleansing OCW of its sins?

Smith: I can see why that would scare you.

Hood: Don't be all high and mighty with me! You're the one with a dirty mind!

~The lights dim to black as the opening chords of his entrance theme fill the arena to a majority of boos. Strobe lights flicker on and off to the beat of the music as smoke begins to fill the entrance way.~

Belvedere: Our final participant, standing 6'3" and weighing 215 lbs, from Reno, Nevada, here is... EVIN EMPIRE!!

~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. Evin slides into the ring, runs to the opposite corner, hops onto the middle turnbuckle and taunts the crowd once again as his music fades.~

Smith: I think most would see Empire as the favorite in this one. He's 8-1 so far in his OCW career, a strong start.

Hood: I hope he worked out his paycheck issue, so the money actually goes to him for this one.

Smith: Injunctions are no joke, Hood. Thankfully, he's got Stacy looking out for him.

Hood: I wonder if she'd ever consider a class on how to hide money. I could use the pointers!

~The bell rings.~

Smith: And here we go! One of these four will earn an opportunity tonight to face Andrea Hernandez for the OCW Craze Championship!

Hood: I bet Andrea's watching this one closely. Probably hoping for a No-Contest or something.

Smith: I doubt it. A no-contest in a situation like this usually means the champ has to face multiple opponents.

Hood: True. Okay, maybe she's hoping Scruff will steal the pin and become #1 contender.

Smith: That would be horrifying on many levels.

~Scruff signals for the match to begin, as the four wrestlers all cautiously glance around the ring. Empire suddenly signals to Martini, stepping over to her and whispering something. He then calls out to Baxter-Kalei, who looks suspiciously his way, but listens to what he has to say. Throughout this, Myst stands still as a statue, waiting for a challenger. He gets what he's waiting for, as on a signal from Empire, all three wrestlers suddenly charge at him! The fans erupt as all three are punching and kicking away at the giant wrestler. But they cheer louder when Myst suddenly throws all three backwards! Myst reaches forward, grabbing an off-balance Martini by the throat, and casually tosses her over the top rope to the floor! Baxter-Kalei tries to go for a leg to take Myst down, but he kicks out with the leg, sending her flying. Empire, now alone, raises his hands as if to back off, but Myst grabs him and lifts him into the air, before slamming him hard to the canvas!~

Smith: It's clear the other wrestlers know who the biggest threat in this one is!

Hood: Careful, Evin! Don't get cleansed!!

~Myst continues on after Empire, dragging him to his feet. The smaller wrestler tries a throat punch, but this only staggers Myst for a moment, as he shakes it off and continues after him. Empire is trapped in the corner with nowhere to go, but he gets some help from Martini, who returns with a springboard splash off the ropes, only to have Myst catch her in mid-air!! Myst swings around with Martini on his shoulders, launching her across the ring with a fireman's carry toss! Baxter-Kalei avoids the flying Martini and leaps with a flying cross-body, but Myst catches her as well! But Empire then scores from behind with a low blow!! Myst staggers forward, still not going down, but Baxter-Kalei takes advantage of the situation and twists herself in Myst's grip, dropping with a DDT! Myst is finally on the mat, and all three wrestlers move in, stomping and kicking at him to try and keep the monster down.~

Smith: Somehow this has turned into a handicap match for Myst!

Hood: Can you blame them? The guy is huge! And a monster!

Smith: And he has a monk.

Hood: Who could forget him? The little... wait, where is that guy? He's not behind me, is he??

~Smith chooses not to answer. Meanwhile, in the ring, the three wrestlers have managed to get Myst to the ropes, where a series of dropkicks manages to send the giant over the ropes to the floor. Smiling, Baxter-Kalei looks down at him. Behind her, though, Martini moves in, trying to roll Baxter-Kalei up! She gets her down, but Empire is right there with a kick to break it up. He then immediately tries the same thing with Martini, cradling her to the mat! Scruff jumps to make the count, but Baxter-Kalei kips up and drops an elbow to break the pin. Empire springs up, annoyed, but Baxter-Kalei leaps over him with a sunset flip, going for another pinfall! But Empire manages to kick out quickly enough, keeping the match going. All three wrestlers hop to their feet, staring each other down, as the crowd applauds the quick action.~

Smith: Once Myst was temporarily neutralized, everyone wanted to end this one quickly.

Hood: You don't get paid by the hour in OCW, Smith, it's winner takes all!

Smith: Given the talent in the ring, though, a fluke roll-up isn't going to finish things this early.

~Myst begins to rise back up, climbing onto the apron, but all three wrestlers in the ring immediately turn and charge, hitting him with a combined ram that sends Myst dropping backwards to the barricade! As soon as he's down, Martini tries to act, grabbing Baxter-Kalei and trying to take her over with the Shaken And Stirred belly-to-belly suplex. But Baxter-Kalei blocks it, fighting free, and instead twists Martini around and tries for a facebuster. Martini barely saves herself, and grabs hold of Baxter-Kalei, struggling with her. But this leaves both of them open, as Empire comes springboarding off the ropes, spinning and grabbing both with a double 720 DDT!! Empire quickly rolls on top of Martini, grabbing at the legs.~

Smith: At the last second, Baxter-Kalei managed to shove Empire, breaking up the count!

Hood: How was she able to even think about making a save, after a move like that?

Smith: Pure instinct.

~Annoyed at having the pin broken up, Empire grabs at Baxter-Kalei, dragging her to her feet. He whips her into the corner, then charges himself, leaping up and trying for a monkey flip. But Baxter-Kalei hangs on, and Empire falls backwards on his own to the mat. Empire does a quick roll and pulls himself up, trying to brace from a Baxter-Kalei counter-attach. But he's not prepared for Martini coming from behind, as she grabs his head and drops with a diamond cutter! Empire, stunned, rolls on the mat in pain. He struggles to get back up, but now Baxter-Kalei is flying in with a springboard clothesline! Empire hits hard again, but shows resiliency by again trying to stand. But Baxter-Kalei and Martini step in and grab him, taking him over with a double snap suplex! Baxter-Kalei and Martini then both jump to their feet, studying each other, before both then step forward again, with Martini dropping an elbow while Baxter-Kalai does a high leg drop, both crashing down on Empire!~

Smith: Women unite!

Hood: That unity will last about another two seconds, then we get that all-female action!

~Baxter-Kalei gets back to her feet, while Martini decides to go for the pin, jumping on Empire. But Baxter-Kalei quickly drags her off, yanking Martini to her feet. Before Martini can protest, Baxter-Kalei catches her with a hurricanrana, sending Martini flying! Baxter-Kalei then gets back up and turns back to the recovering Empire, charging at him. Empire leapfrogs over her, though, then spins as she comes back, scoring a superkick! Baxter-Kalei falls to the side, while Empire shakes his head and turns back around... and catches a rushing Martini with a kick, followed by a fisherman brainbuster!! Empire makes the cover, making sure to get a full grasp of tights, as Scruff moves in on the other side.~

~Before the count finishes, Baxter-Kalei is back, dropping both knees onto Empire's back!! Empire shouts in agony, rolling on the mat, with Baxter-Kalei scrambling after him, grabbing his arms and getting a double-underhook roll-up on the mat!~

Smith: Somehow Empire kicks out!

Hood: Aubrey bent him up like a pretzel to make that pin!

Smith: It's clear she's come here to compete, to prove that she's not just about rumors and innuendo!

~Both wrestlers hop up, with Empire angrily swinging at Baxter-Kalei, but missing by inches as she spins around it, while tripping Empire up and sending him crashing into the turnbuckle. Baxter-Kalei stays on the attack, approaching Martini as she tries to rise, hitting her with a scissors kick! Martini's hurting, while Baxter-Kalei sets herself in place, ready to end this one. She grabs the rising Martini from behind and drops back with her knees up, landing the Break-A-B*tch!!! Martini's done, with Baxter-Kalei rolling her over to make the pin... only to scream, as huge hands grab her from outside the ring and drag her out!~

Hood: Uh oh! Myst has risen!

Smith: And Aubrey was unfortunately making her pin within range!

Hood: With that guy's size, anywhere in the ring is within range.

~Baxter-Kalei struggles to get free of Myst's grasp, but the big man isn't having it. He lifts Baxter-Kalei into the air by the throat, choking her out!! Baxter-Kalei's legs kick helplessly, as she struggles to find any breath. She's rapidly fading, as Myst is not showing any inclination to drop her. The fans of Baxter-Kalei are screaming for help, not liking what's happening. In the ring, Martini is still down, and Empire starts her way... then looks outside the ring, seeing Myst look his way before turning back to continue choking out Baxter-Kalei. After a second's hesitation, Empire makes up his mind. He runs for the turnbuckle, leaping up onto it in one bound... and flying out with the Empire Press onto Myst, taking down Baxter-Kalei as well!!! The crowd starts giving a "Holy Shit!" chant as all the wrestlers are currently down.~

Smith: God!! A suicide maneuver from Empire, and I think he did to it save Aubrey!!

Hood: I don't think so, Smith. I think Evin realized that Myst would be coming for him next, and decided to take him out first.

Smith: Either way, it still counts as a save, Hood, because Aubrey was in dire straits!

Hood: She doesn't look any better after that landing she just took.

~With everyone else down outside the ring, Jasmine Martini starts to work her way to her feet using the ropes. She sees everyone down, and decides to raise her arms up, acting as if she's already won. She turns to Scruff, demanding to know why he's not counting, but Scruff just shrugs, since this type of match can't end in a countout. Martini argues with him, wanting to be declared the winner. In the meantime, Empire is struggling back to his feet. He goes to get into the ring to sneak-attack the distracted Martini, but gets dragged back out by Myst, who's rising once again!! Empire, stunned, tries a quick punch, but Myst catches his fist, looks at it, and then picks Empire up in the air in a gorilla press! He turns to where Baxter-Kalei is trying to recover and launches Empire into her, putting both down, before turning and starting to climb back into the ring. Hearing the noise, Martini slowly turns around, coming face-to-face with her worst nightmare.~

Smith: Can this guy ever be stopped??

Hood: Run, Jasmine! Fly away on your magic carpet!!

Smith: Wrong Jasmine, Hood.

Hood: Throw a tiger at him! Find a genie! Anything!!

~To her credit, Martini doesn't run away. Instead, she puts on a seductive smile and tries a new tactic. She runs her finger up and down Myst's chest, while leaning into him. She talks to him for a second, not realizing that Myst is getting more and more furious. He grabs her around both arms, as she looks wide-eyed at him. He hammers her with a knee, then clubs her across the back, dropping her hard to the mat! Myst then reaches down and drags her up, locking Martini into position and putting her in the air with The Cleanse (jackknife powerbomb)!!! The impact is huge, causing most of the fans in attendance to wince and look away, as Martini is flat on her back, not moving. Myst leans down and puts a hand on her, making the very loose cover.~

~Before Scruff's hand can hit 3, Baxter-Kalei suddenly comes flying in from the apron, springboarding up and doing a leg drop to the back of Myst's head!! Myst rolls away, shaking his head clear, but then immediately starts rising up again. Baxter-Kalei limps over to him, kicking away to try and keep him down. But every kick is shrugged off by the giant wrestler, who gets back to his feet. Baxter-Kalei reacts, grabbing him by the head and trying to run with a bulldog. But Myst shoves her off towards the corner. He tries for the big boot, but Baxter-Kalei dodges, and Myst ends up with his leg over the ropes! Baxter-Kalei goes after the other leg, stringing Myst up worse, and then pulls him back, trying to drop him with a neckbreaker! But Myst hangs onto the ropes, keeping them from dropping, and then lifts up, yanking Baxter-Kalei over the ropes with him! Both topple to the apron, still fighting it out.~

Smith: Full credit to Aubrey, who's taking the fight to the monster known as Myst!

Hood: Yep, but both are missing the obvious, Smith!

Smith: What?

Hood: Look at Empire!

~As Baxter-Kalei and Myst both struggle to get upright on the apron, swinging at each other, Empire has entered the ring and pulled up the barely conscious Martini. She doesn't give much resistance as Empire quickly positions her, lifting her into the air in a Razor's Edge position. Empire then drops with the sit-out piledriver, completing the Reno 911 finisher!!! Martini is motionless, and likely won't be waking up for some time. Empire quickly rolls up her legs and makes the pin. Myst, seeing what's going on, fights to get free of the ropes, but his leg has gotten twisted up!~

~Baxter-Kalei again tries to dive in, but this time she's a little too slow...~

3!!!

Belvedere: Here is your winner, and the #1 Contender for the OCW Craze Title... EVIN EMPIRE!!!!!

Smith: HUGE win for Evin Empire! He gets his first direct shot at OCW gold.

Hood: Yea…he’s got a date with Andrea Hernandez…who will pay the tab?

Smith: And you make fun of my performance?

Hood: Sorry, I know that was bad. I was just freestyling…I’m not Eminem.

Smith: No sir, you are not.

Hood: How about Myst though…fucking guy looked legit.

Smith: I think we saw tonight that Myst can be a major player in OCW. Aubrey looked great, too…but the match belonged to Evin Empire who continues to show why he’s the most talented ‘rookie’ in OCW.

~Inside the office of Marcus Welsh, Greg and Welsh sit quietly. A knock on the door can be heard simultaneously with the sound of the door opening.~

Matt Meyhu: Hey pal, you aren't busy are you?

~”The Marvel” Matt Meyhu walks into the room with a smirk on his face. Wearing a shirt with several vertical TBA’s on it, the former champion stands in front of Welsh. He removes the sunglasses that he has no business wearing inside.~

Matt Meyhu: Of course not. Always time for me, am I right?!

~Meyhu fakes a chuckle before continuing on.~

Matt Meyhu: Listen, I know you've got a lot of tough decisions to make here. And I realize that giving me that title shot isn't as easy as it seems even!

~A look of relief creeps onto Welsh’s face. The smile on Meyhu’s face grows.~

Matt Meyhu: I'm in the tournament. I get it.

~Welsh nods.~

Matt Meyhu: That's why I've decided to take something off your plate for you… I found a replacement!

Welsh: You what?

Matt Meyhu: That's right. Next week, right here on Massacre, we will see the return of none other than THE PROFESSOR! Bradley Carrington is tagging in! Isn't this great?! It's a done deal!

~Welsh stands. He seems thrown by the news. He starts to stutter~

Welsh: Why champ...that’s awfully generous of you and all but, I mean, don’t you think it’s...well, you know, a bit hasty?

~Welsh runs his hands through his hair. He scratches the back of his neck. It’s painfully obvious he’s extremely uncomfortable with Meyhu’s decision~

Welsh: Like, don’t get me wrong, champ. You’re the number one contender. You’re the man! The tournament may seem superfluous but, hell, why not stick it out? Add another trophy to your case.

Matt Meyhu: You know, that's what I was thinking at first too. Why not, right? I'm more than capable. But I just didn't want anything to interfere with that title shot.

~Meyhu stares off for a moment, nodding slowly, with his hands on his hips.~

Matt Meyhu: It's the only thing I'm concerned with at this point.

~Welsh reaches for a can of coconut water. A few splashes of liquid spill over due to Marcus’ shaky hand. Greg rushes over and steadies the can, tipping it up and almost feeding Marcus. After a big gulp, Welsh hands the can over to Greg~

Welsh: I love the focus, champ! That’s why you’re the champ, champ! Right, Greg? Give it up for the champ!

~Welsh’s nerves have manifested into an overuse of the word ‘champ’. Greg begins to aggressively massage Welsh’s shoulders~

Welsh: But, having said that...are you SURE you want out of the tournament. The winner is going to go down in history! Heck, I’ll even throw in some more lime themed shows. Maybe even take out Zybala’s parking space in order to make yours double wide. Just, ya know, stick it out...stay in that tournament. The ratings will be huge!

~Meyhu shakes his head and waves off the comments.~

Matt Meyhu: Not necessary, boss! I’m already going down in history. What’s one more trophy, when I can add one more title? You’re not going to talk me out of this, my mind is made up!

~Meyhu walks over and places his hand on Welsh’s shoulder.~

Matt Meyhu: I won’t let you down… And I know you won’t let me down.

~Meyhu smiles at Welsh, sends a nod toward Greg, and makes his way out of the office, gently closing the door behind him.~

Greg: He seems very confident.

Marcus: I know. I'm worried, Greg.

Greg: Are the documents for Block Party signed?

Marcus: Yes, had I known he was backing out of the tournament things might have...could have...fuck it, they are what they are. Champ will be fine...I'll give him a bigger dressing room or something. We'll figure it out.

~Greg doesn't seem so sure. We cut back to the announce team~

Smith: Meyhu is out of the tournament!

Hood: And just like that everyone's Duke has been eliminated.

Smith: He's banking on being TBA but, Hood...the way our GM reacted, I don't think Meyhu is TBA.

Hood: That'll piss him off...but Welsh knows what he's doing. Have faith in the Welsh!

Savage Championship Contenders Match
Triple Threat
Ed Houston (20-10) vs. Chelsea LeClair (5-1) vs. Ehud of MOAB (1-1)

~We’re about midway through the evening. Fans are eager to see some HARDCORE action…which is convenient because SAVAGE action is next in line. Belvedere clears his throat to a strong, visceral reaction from these feral fans~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a #1 Contenders Match for the OCW Savage Championship. The winner will face the Savage Champion after Block Party. As with all matches concerning the Savage Division this match will be no disqualification, falls count anywhere!

~The fans yell “FUCK YEA!”~

Belvedere: Introducing first…

~"Fuck Was I" by Jenny Owen Young begins to play. A decent pop is elicited by the fans for EHUD. Ehud appears from behind the curtain throwing fists. He’s got a determined look on his face. His arms are all taped up, as are his fists…Ehud is so fucking old he’s probably taking a ton of heart medication, meaning his blood is super thing. We can’t have Ehud getting busted open. He begins to make his long walk toward the ring~

Belvedere: From Moab, Utah…standing 5’5.75 and weighing in at 140lbs…the former Sheriff of Moab…and defeater of Time Traveling Grimace…Ehud of Moab!!!

Smith: And there’s Ehud

Hood: Are we hoping to have someone die in the ring at some point?

Smith: Ehud is apparently in great shape.

Hood: Says who, the KNIFE MAN?

Smith: He is our in-house medic SLASH mechanic

Belvedere: Introducing next…

~There’s no sense in waiting for Ehud to get to the ring, so Belvedere just rolls on, like a true professional. "Chelsea" by STEFY hits and the crowd boos loudly as Chelsea LeClair comes through the curtains accompanied by her publicist Cynthia Winters, who is carrying a clipboard. Chelsea scoffs on the stage before she walks down the ramp with Cynthia walking behind her, completely ignoring the fans as she wastes little time getting into the ring. She blows right past Ehud, choosing to keep her distance from the former sheriff of Moab. Once she gets to the ring, she walks up the steps and stands on the apron, pausing for both a quick photo op with photographers conveniently stationed at ringside and to soak in some more heat from the crowd. Scoffing once more, she steps between the ropes and heads for the corner, ready to take care of business~

Belvedere: From Anaheim, California…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 128lbs…Chelsea LeClair!!

Smith: And there she is…the most arrogant, disrespectful wrestler on our roster.

Hood: Who gives a fuck…if she’s talented, let her shine.

Smith: She doesn’t even appreciate this opportunity, Hood! Heck, if I were running things I would have put Hayley Robinson in this match…maybe even Max Kael.

Hood: I can’t argue with Max. But Hayley? You trying to kill her with double booking?

Smith: I think she could handle it!

Belvedere: And, their opponent…

~The screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the arena. Rocket Man starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way down the entrance ramp. He stops by fans in the crowd and high fives them. He nearly bumps into Ehud, who is about halfway down the ramp. Ed manages to avoid agitating the former sheriff. He sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he waves to the crowd~

Belvedere: From Miami, Florida…standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is a former OCW Craze Champion…he is a former OCW Paradigm Champion…he is the final OCW LightWeight Champion…he is…Ed Houston!!!

Smith: Alright! Ed back in action!

Hood: Ehud’s looking spry! He’s already halfway down that ramp!

Smith: Ugh

~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~

Smith: This match can end anywhere…pin falls, submissions can take place in or out of the ring. Weapons are also allowed.

Hood: Who the fuck booked LeClair in this match…Andrea?

Smith: That is an excellent question.

~Houston sets his sights on Chelsea. He goes after her. Chelsea flies through the ropes, landing on the outside. Houston leaps over the top rope, landing on his feet. Chelsea takes off. Ed gives chase. Ehud is nearing the bottom of the ramp. Chelsea runs past him. So does Ed. Ehud finally reaches the bottom of the ramp. He makes his way toward the ring. Chelsea looks over her shoulder noticing that Ed is gaining ground. She hops over a set of ring steps and drops down, crawling under the ring. Ed leaps over the steps and stops…she’s gone. The crowd yells “SHE’S UNDER THE RING!”~

Smith: Chelsea doing whatever she can to avoid a physical altercation.

Hood: Nah man…rumor has it there are some paparazzi in the crowd. She’s trying to hide from them.

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood.

~Houston bends down and lifts up the apron. A spray of mist hits him in the eyes!! Ed staggers back. He rubs his face – his eyes most aggressively. He leans against the barricade shaking his head, snorting and coughing. Chelsea sneaks out from under the apron with a tiny can of pepper spray. The fans BOOOO. She looks across the ring and sees Ehud finally reaching the apron. He looks around, fists balled. He gets a whiff of some pepper and narrows his eyes. “Something foul is afoot,” he mutters before turning and walking toward a set of ring steps, bringing him closer to the action. LeClair scoffs, knowing it will take the former mayor of Moab almost ten minutes to reach her. She turns back to Ed and lunges forward with a knee right into his crotch! The fans boo louder. Houston falls to his knees~

Smith: As much as I hate what’s happening – it’s all legal.

Hood: Ed is having a rough day at the office.

Smith: Indeed

~LeClair lifts her knee again, this time planting it square into Ed’s face. Houston falls onto his back, coughing, wheezing, and holding his groin. A fan at ringside calls LeClair an ‘entitled slut’. LeClair responds by blasting him in the face with pepper spray. The fan shrieks like a choir boy and falls to the floor, thrashing his body about. She places the pepper spray in the waist band of her pants, at the hip. She drops to her knees and begins to choke The Rocket Man. Ehud makes his way around that set of steps~

Smith: She may not be much of a wrestler but you can’t deny her ability to manipulate.

Hood: Woman’s got a plan, Smith. People look at her as if she’s some spoiled simpleton when, in fact, she’s one of the most dangerous competitors here.

Smith: I’m starting to realize that very fact.

~LeClair places her hands on Ed’s face. He tries to fight her off but every time he does she rips at his ear or his nose. Her palms become slick with pepper spray residue. She rubs them into the sockets that hold Ed’s eyes. He yells out, trying to fight her off but he’s stunned from all the precisely targeted offense. Ehud, meanwhile, is midway between both sets of steps. Once he rounds the second set, he’ll be within striking distance. The crowd chants “EHUD!” hoping it might hurry him up. Ehud comes to a stop, taking in the cheers. The crowd yells ‘DON’T STOP! KEEP MOVING!’ They freak out, realizing how long it takes this guy to get going. Ehud finally starts to move once more~

Smith: Will Ehud reach the action in time?

Hood: That is an excellent question

Smith: I’m sure he was much quicker back in his sheriff days

Hood: That or the town of Moab was like a tiny Gotham City where crime ruled under a lawless purview.

~Chelsea returns to choking Ed. Scruff is standing over them, keeping a close watching in case Ed gives up. Ehud nears the second set of steps. He pauses, upon reaching them and slowly takes a step up on the bottom level. The fans yell “HURRY UP!” Chelsea turns and sees Ehud closing in. She decides to try her luck with a pin. Scruff drops to his knees~

Kick Out!

Smith: Houston stays alive!

Hood: Yea, weak ass attempt by LeClair but I guess she felt she had to go with it.

Smith: Yes, Ehud should be there any minute now…any minute, now. Any minute. Now.

~Ehud finally crosses the set of steps. Chelsea pulls Ed to his feet and tosses him in the ring. Ehud slowly heads her way. Chelsea spots Ehud coming and dives into the ring. Ehud JUST MISSED her. He pauses and looks around. He stares into the ring, his old, arid eye sockets narrow once more as he locates his target. He slowly begins to move toward the apron. Back inside the ring, Chelsea has Ed down but she doesn’t exactly know what to do with him. Houston, still blinded, coughs up some brown liquid…sort of like a half cough up/half puke deal. It’s clear his sinuses are fucked. He gets to his feet, blind and bewildered…Chelsea leaps up into the air and drops him with a Cutter! The crowd BOOS~ She crawls over, looking for the win~

KICK OUT!

Smith: Another kick out by Ed!

Hood: Ed’s proven he’s tough. But Pepper Spray may be tougher.

Smith: It has taken down men bigger than Ed.

Hood: You think pepper spray could take out TBA?

Smith: I’m not at liberty to say.

~Ehud places his hands on the apron and begins to climb up. This is going to take a while. So, we cut back to what’s happening in the ring. LeClair is back on her feet…her frustration level has increased. She’s got Ed in bad shape and needs to put him away. She leans against the ropes…her eyes dart over toward Ehud, who almost has a knee on the apron. Houston reaches his feet…he’s still stunned and incoherent. Chelsea runs forward, leaps into the air, places both knees into Houston’s back and drops him with a double knee backbreaker!! The ring shakes from impact! Chelsea looks over, on her knees, at Ehud. He’s seated on the apron. She scrambles to her feet and heads for the nearest corner~

Smith: Time is running out! Chelsea is going to try and end this before Ehud can get in the ring!

Hood: I’ve seen more wrestling out of Chelsea in this one match than all her other matches combined.

Smith: She might be the second best wrestler in this match…as sad as that is to say.

~Chelsea scurries up the corner, reaching the top buckle. She looks down at Ed. She looks over at Ehud. He’s on one knee…remaining on the edge of the apron. LeClair turns around, pointing her back at Ed. She jumps off and performs a corkscrew moonsault! While in the air, we see Ehud place a leg in between the ropes, slowly entering. LeClair comes down and nails Ed with CANCELLED!!! The crowd is both impressed and disgusted. LeClair rolls around, holding her stomach. Ehud finally makes it into the ring! The crowd POPS! LeClair sits up, holding her abdomen from the impact. Ed is prone. She hesitates upon seeing Ehud. She tries to calculate how long it will take Ehud to reach Ed’s position and realizes she doesn’t have long enough. So, she grabs Ed by the hair and pulls him to his feet. She tosses Ed toward the ropes…Houston flies through the ropes and lands on the outside. He tumbles near the bottom of the ramp, coming to rest on his back. LeClair steps through the ropes and leaps off the apron with a senton!! She connects! She makes the cover…Scruff flies through the ropes, slides in and makes the count~

SHOULDER UP!

Smith: Ed survives!

Hood: Man…Chelsea should have pinned him in the ring.

Smith: I think she assumed Ehud would have broken up the count.

Hood: Dude, he’s barely moved an inch since she threw Ed to the floor. There’s no way he would have reached the pin in time.

Smith: A miscalculation that could cost her the match

~LeClair slaps the floor with hands. She creams at the top of her lungs. Scruff is like “Damn, girl.” Ehud hears the screams of a woman and begins to move in that direction. Chelsea stomps around, throwing some of a tantrum. She complains that Scruff doesn’t know how to count. Scruff is unmoved…he leans against the barricade and is offered some popcorn, which he happily accepts. Chelsea sees Ed sitting up. She grunts loudly and heads his way. She hooks Ed for a DDT…she looks around and steps up onto the barricade, attempting a Tornado DDT. Ed, however, tosses her off mid spin! She soars up into the air before coming down with a loud SPLAT onto the outside padding. The fans at ringside all cringe. Chelsea rolls up, holding her midsection and kicking her feet. Ehud, meanwhile, reaches the ropes~

Smith: And some offense from Ed!

Hood: Chelsea’s temper fucked her up.

Smith: Yep, her little tantrum gave Ed enough time to recover.

~Ed leans against the barricade, still wobbly from all the offense he’s endured. He looks down at Chelsea. He looks over his shoulder. Ehud has one foot through the ropes. Chelsea starts to rise…Ed throws a kick into her ribs, keeping her down. He grabs Chelsea by the hair, yanks her to her feet and drags her to ringside. Ehud is now standing on the apron. Ed whips Chelsea into the ring steps!! She lands back first! Ehud starts to sit on the apron, so he can get down without breaking a hip. Houston runs forward and drives a knee into Chelsea’s face while she’s seated against the steps. Ehud slides off the apron, onto his feet, outside the ring. He turns and heads for Ed and Chelsea. He’s only a few feet away. Ed picks Chelsea up and he tosses her over the ring steps. She flips, landing on her back. Ed hops onto the top step. Ehud is behind him. He reaches forward. Ed leaps off before Ehud can touch him with a leg drop across LeClair’s throat! The crowd seems disappointed. Ehud reaches the steps and looks over them, at Ed and Chelsea. His determined eyes become more determined. He turns and starts to walk around the steps~

Smith: Can we stop booking Ehud?

Hood: Why? He’s taken less offense than anyone in this match.

Smith: That’s because he’s too slow to reach anyone!

~Houston is back on his feet. He lifts Chelsea up and shoves her against the barricade. He lunges forward with a HUGE knife edged chop! The fans react to the ‘smack’ heard round KEY WEST. Ehud doesn’t pause. He reaches the end of the steps and makes a sharp, ninety degree turn. Ed whips Chelsea toward the ring. She runs stomach first into the apron. Fans begin to chant “ED!” Ehud crosses the steps and enters the other side of the ring area. He spots a man in an Arnold Palmer mask. He gives the man a Utah nod and tip of the hat. He turns back toward Ed and Chelsea. He’s a few feet away. Ed grabs Chelsea from behind and he tosses her into the ring. Ehud steps forward. He reaches out to grab Ed….BUT, Ed rolls into the ring. Ehud is left standing at the apron, empty handed. His face becomes EVEN MORE DETERMINED as he starts the painfully long process of climbing back into the ring~

Smith: I don’t think Ehud is ever going to get any offense in.

Hood: He should have spent the rest of the match hanging out with the guy in the Arnold Palmer mask.

Smith: Ehud did seem happy to see that.

Hood: Ehud arrested a young Arnold Palmer many years ago in Moab for soliciting sex from a foreign whore.

Smith: Yea, right

~Ehud manages to grab a seat on the apron. He begins the process of standing. Ed is in a corner, waiting for Chelsea to get to her feet. She does. Ed lunges forward and BLASTS her with a superkick!!! LeClair goes stiff before falling over, onto the mat. The crowd is on their feet chanting for Ed. Houston points for the top rope. The fans respond with “YES!” He heads that way. Ehud, on his feet, steps through the ropes~

Smith: Houston looking to hit Blastoff…but Ehud has finally entered the ring. Can Ed hit Blastoff in time?

Hood: At this point, I don’t know how you could think otherwise.

Smith: Ehud may reach Chelsea in time, Hood. Unless he trips.

Hood: Oh man, that would be a great tragedy if Ehud tripped and fell.

~Houston reaches the top rope. Ehud enters the ring. Ed leaps off with a perfect Shooting Star Press!! He hits it!!! He rolls around, holding his stomach in pain due to the impact. LeClair is OUT. Ehud marches toward the action. He reaches into his pants and pulls out…A MACHETE! He holds it high in the air. The fans scream~

Smith: What is he doing with that?!

Hood: Savage rules, Smith.

Smith: Somebody get that old man and his machete out of the ring!

~Houston looks up and sees the machete! He pops to his feet. Ehud swings the machete at Ed…he darts out of the ring. Ehud rears back, looking to throw the machete out of the ring…he loses his balance and falls on top of Chelsea. Scruff slides in with the count~

3!!!!

~The fans are confused. Several begin to boo~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the new #1 Contender to the OCW Savage Championship…EHUD OF MOAB!!!!!

Smith: What the heck?!

Hood: Ehud lost his balance and fell on top of Chelsea! He got the pin after Ed did all the work!

Smith: Are you serious?! Ed and Chelsea wrestled 99.9% of that match and Ehud gets the win?? This is an atrocity!

Hood: Classic OCW, Baby!

~We zoom in on Ehud. He appears confused. Scruff extends his hand…Ehud accepts and is helped to his feet. Ed is on the outside…he kicks at the steel steps, frustrated. Chelsea powders out of the ring still stinging from Ed’s Blastoff. Ehud lowers the machete and places it back in his pants, safely. Suddenly a giant purple object slides into the ring~

Smith: What is THAT?!

Hood: IT’S THE EVIL GRIMACE!

~Evil Grimace lifts up a purple chair and SMACKS Ehud in the back with it, knocking the old man to the mat. Evil Grimace lets out a hideous laugh before turning and exiting the ring, running through the crowd and vanishing from sight~

Smith: Well that was…unnecessary.

Hood: Ehud is going to face Vincent Langston, Smith.

Smith: Yes, I know

Hood: We might need to call the local coroner…get him ready.

Smith: Tough loss for Ed and Chelsea. They were the heavy favorites but tonight Ehud shocked the world.

~Mario is sitting on a sofa in his locker room. He’s dressed to the 9’s for the big night, sporting white suit pants and white shirt, green vest, and red suit jacket and bow tie. He’s kicked back relaxing with his Uncle, Jack “The Terrier” Russell. Jack is sporting black jeans and a plaid sweater vest. The duo are briefly startled when OCW employee Who’re barges into the locker room.~

Mario Maurako: Jesus, doesn’t anyone knock anymore?

Who’re: Sorry, I thought you knew we were scheduled to talk?

Mario Mauraok: I did, that still doesn’t mean you come barging into the eMpire’s locker room. Mike could’ve had Kitty Petrova in here with him.

Who’re: I’m sorry Mario.

~Mario stands up and stoops down to put him face to face with Who’re.~

Mario Maurako: I don’t think you really are. But someday soon, you will be.

Who’re: Mario, next week you face Andrea Hernandez, the OCW Craze Champion, with the winner advancing to the Elite Eight and punching their ticket ticket to Block Party.

Mario Maurako: Let me save you all some time. This is how this is going to play out. I’m going to say some unsavory things about Andrea, she’s going to say she’s heard it all her life and that she will prove me wrong next week. Then next week will get here, and I will embarrass her and she will cry like a little bitch.

Who’re: Can we talk about last week and Paul Paras?

~Mario shoots a scowl at Who’re.~

Mario Maurako: No we aren’t going to talk about Paul Paras! He isn’t worth MY TIME! You’re pathetic, I’m going to confer with my best friends and see about hiring our own personal staff. Because you’re shit is as weak as Andrea Hernandez, which means I won’t be hearing from you either after next Monday.

Who’re: Then what else DO you want to talk about?

Mario Maurako: Don’t give me that attitude. I’ll knock that lipstick right off your face. In fact no, fuck you, get the hell out. I’m through talking to trash like you.

~Jack “The Terrier” Russell gets up in Who’res face and backs her out of the locker room. Jack then slams the door as Maurako sighs loudly, bored from his interaction with the OCW Staff member.~

Smith: How dare he treat Who'Re with such disrespect! It makes me sick!

Hood: You think that's bad...just wait until next week!

Smith: Andrea, we're all pulling for you. I think it's time this eMpire get refused something, anything. Let's stifle this push and bring them back to reality. It starts NOW...no more handing things over to the eMpire...NO MORE

~“Obsession” by Animotion starts to play. The crowd starts to dance to the super cool tune until they realize it belongs to MARCUS WELSH. Instant heat…fans boo while continuing to dance. It’s a pretty weird sight. Welsh steps out from behind the curtain with Knux, his head of security. Barry Man is Low, another member of his security team, guards the curtain. It appears he’s been told to keep an eye out for any Alice-like activity. Welsh reaches the ring. Knux steps up and opens the ropes for Welsh to casually step through~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…our fearless leader…the GM to best all GMs…a man with a vision so complex it makes Christopher Nolan’s next project look like the ball pit at your local McDonalds…Marcus Welsh!

~More boos. Welsh seems flattered by the accolades. The stoic Belvedere hands the mic over~

Marcus Welsh: Why thanks, Belve. You’re too kind.

~More boos. Welsh tries to frown but seems to be stifling a smile~

Marcus Welsh: This portion of Massacre is brought to you by the letter…M.

~The arena is FILLED with BOOOS! Welsh can no longer stifle his smile. The fans chant “L! L! L!”~

Marcus Welsh: L?

~Even the fans are confused by this one. It seems some fan began chanting a letter…any letter other than M. And, well, since L is right next to M on the alphabet, that’s the letter he chose. Anyway, he’s immediately removed from the arena due to incompetent chanting. Welsh continues~

Marcus Welsh: As you’re all aware, Block Party is a mere three weeks away. The current lineup features Team ATARI taking on Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas for the OCW Tag Team Titles. It also features seven matches as we crown the winner of the Block Party tournament. And, to cap things off we have an OCW Championship match featuring Paul Paras defending against…TBA.

~A ‘TBA’ chant breaks out~

Marcus Welsh: It seems TBA is the most over person on the roster, Knux.

~Knux cracks his knuckles and fails to respond…as bodyguards are wont to do~

Marcus Welsh: Now, I’ve got to be honest. Up until a week or so ago I wasn’t sure who TBA was going to be. There was an initial plan for the OCW Title that unfortunately fell through – I blame Zybala.

~More boos. A ‘Zybala’ chant tries to build~

Marcus Welsh: None of that! You’ll get your hero in a few moments.

~They continue to build a Zybala chant. Welsh motions toward the back. The sounds of Nails on a Chalkboard echo throughout the arena. The fans scream! Welsh motions for the sound to cease~

Marcus Welsh: Good. Now we understand one another. With the original OCW Title scenario out the window, I turned toward the winner of the chamber. That man being, Meyhu. Sadly, he was booked in the Block Party tournament, meaning a no-go for the OCW Title situation.

~The fans boo. They chant ‘Bullshit’~

Smith: I agree with these fans! People have been double booked in the past…heck, look at Vargas and Grenier…if they win their second round matches they’ll be double booked for Block Party. Sounds awfully convenient, to me.

Hood: Welsh is looking out for Meyhu’s best interest, Smith.

Smith: He’s not even in the tournament anymore, Hood. He gave his spot to Carrington!

Hood: Welsh didn’t anticipate that. He may be a great man but he’s no Nostradamus, Smith.

Marcus Welsh: So…what to do, what to do. Here we have a world champion and no challenger. Who has earned the right to fill that TBA slot?

~An overwhelming Meyhu chant begins. Welsh motions for the fingernails on the chalkboard sound. The fans quiet down immediately~

Marcus Welsh: I normally don’t like to rush things but seeing as Zybala could be GM after tonight, I had no choice. Giving him this type of responsibility would lead to Paras facing the Squashness Monster…or one of his outsider losers…or, even worse, some type of mechanical dragon. Nope, we cannot have that. So, last week I made a decision.

~The crowd quiets with anticipation~

Marcus Welsh: If you’ll remember two years ago a group entered OCW and raised the company to new heights. That group was called The Aptitude. It featured a mainstay in TIO who needed allies. It featured a vicious, no fucks given fighter in CJ O’Donnell. And, it featured a name known throughout the industry in Matt Meyhu. These three men weren’t forced to eat at the kid’s table from the outset. These three men came in and dominated. CJ won the tag titles in his very first match. Meyhu would become OCW Champion within a month or two. Regulars grumbled. People said it was too fast. Maybe it was. All I know is OCW reached heights unimagined with the Aptitude on top.

~The fans cheer. The Aptitude is suddenly a nostalgia act that brings out the best in these fans~

Marcus Welsh: And now here we are in 2019. In case you people have been sleeping the past few months you’ve noticed a boom within this company. Somehow, under my interim leadership, OCW has, once again, reached new heights. Some say the stock has peaked. Some say we can’t go any higher. I know different. I know that we’re about to break through the mother fucking ceiling. And I know that the only way this goal…these dreams are possible is by allowing The eMpire the very same opportunity The Aptitude was afforded.

~The fans begin to boo. It seems the eMpire is drawing the same ire the Aptitude drew two years ago~

Marcus Welsh: Boo all you want, it’s not going to change a thing. I will not sit back and watch Zybala drown these men in a pool of crap. I may not have much time left…but with that time I’m going to give all of you fans the greatest gift I’m capable of giving. At Block Party you will see a match so grand in scale that no other promotion outside of OCW could conceive its handling. You will see the OCW Championship up for grabs in a…Process of Elimination Match!

~The fans hesitate. It takes a few seconds before realization sets in. An amalgamation of cheers and boos follows~

Marcus Welsh: On one side you will have the eMpire.

~BOOOOO! “FUCK THIS SHIT!” “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” These are examples of what the crowd is saying – how they are reacting~

Marcus Welsh: And, on the other side you will have OCW Champion Paul Paras…OCW Savage Champion Vincent Langston…and…

~The crowd pauses. They start to chant ‘MEYHU! MEYHU!’~

Marcus Welsh: SILVER CYANIDE!

~Welsh points to the OCWTron. It cuts to a live feed of Silver Cyanide, in the hospital (looks like ICU). He’s still suffering the damages of Max Kael’s attack. The fans become irate. It feels like a riot is about to take place~

Marcus Welsh: Sheesh, I didn’t know you guys hated Silver Cyanide so much.

~More boos. The place is getting out of control. Welsh motions toward the back. NAILS ON A CHALKBOARD plays. The fans shriek and cover their ears. Welsh continues to speak…with a greater sense of urgency~

Marcus Welsh: And it won’t be any Process of Elimination match…no, no…with the OCW Title on the line, it has to be unique. The first phase will resemble an elimination match, meaning that three individuals will be eliminated via pinfall, submission or other traditional means. So, let’s say…well, let’s say Mr. Cyanide over there...let’s say he happens to get pinned right away by Mario Maurako. He’s eliminated, but Paras and Langston remain. Then, let’s say…oh, I don’t know, Langston gets submitted by Max Kael. Vincent would be eliminated but Paras remains. And, then…well, just because it gives the best example, let’s say Paras scores a fluke win via holding the tights against Mike Best. Mike Best would be eliminated leaving Paras, Max, and Maurako as the three individuals heading into the final phase – the championship phase.

~The fans are chanting “THIS IS BULLSHIT!” It’s a cool concept but they are so irate over the booking that they cannot allow themselves a moment of enjoyment~

Marcus Welsh: And, of course, in that championship phase the first person to score a pin or submission will walk away OCW Champion. You don’t like it, fine. I don’t care. I’m doing what’s best for OCW. The match is signed, sealed, and delivered…and there isn’t a thing anybody, not even Zybala can do about it. The eMpire is here to stay…deal with it.

~Welsh drops the mic and heads to the back. Security is working their asses off to keep any fans from jumping the barricade~

Smith: Unbelievable.

Hood: I know! Greatest match ever!

Smith: Has Welsh mortgaged OCW’s soul? The eMpire is receiving the push to end all pushes.

Hood: They fucking deserve it, man. Like Welsh said…this is what’s best for OCW. These guys are legit. This will make OCW a stronger, better place.

Smith: I don’t know, Hood. They are jumping a TON of competitors who have been working their tails off for months…even years, for some. Not to mention Meyhu! The man who won the Elimination Chamber which guaranteed him an OCW Title shot. The eMpire has stolen his spot!

Hood: If the guy hates it then he’s a hypocrite. And I say that as a Meyhu fan. They are getting the exact push he did.

Smith: It’s close but it isn’t exact. Plus, OCW is a different place now than it was two years ago. The competition level isn’t even comparable.

Hood: Bullshit rhetoric meant to stymie superior talent. Welsh’s decision is final and it’s the best decision I’ve heard in a long ass time. As he said, fucking deal with it.

Smith: Whatever! Folks, we're going to cut to a quick commercial before we begin tonight's tournament action

~Somewhere in a undisclosed location in Florida….~

~2600 is standing in front of a white board inside a warehouse somewhere that Team ATARI is using to “Keep their distance from Bert and Ernie”. 2600 has several names on the whiteboard and on a table just behind him is several file folders, one for each of the names on the board.~

~7800 is sitting on a old truck tire eating a cup of noodles while FB2 is on her laptop.~

2600: So we have The Yamauchi Lockwoods

FB2: Check.

2600: Then the Yamauchi prostitutes Pretty Committee.

FB2: Check.

2600: The expendable Yamauchi duo of the Draver Boys.

FB2: Check.

7800: Dilly dilly.

2600: Yeah, the Yamauchi don’t seem to have a problem hiring underage scumbags such as these Draver boys. Next we have…..

~2600 checks the file again.~

2600: Pas De Deux? Are we sure they are Yamauchi scum?

FB2: I have PTB checking in on them.

~2600 places a question mark next to Pas De Deux’s name on the whiteboard.~

2600: Then we have more sex workers in the Dirty Birds. The Yamauchi really love their working ladies, if you can call them ladies.

FB2: Check.

2600: Speaking of disease carriers, The newly formed Ninja Rebellion.

FB2: And check.

2600: Plus Bert and Ernie.

7800: Dilly dilly.

~2600 stands back from the whiteboard and crosses his arms.~

2600: Seven Yamauchi Units. Why all of a sudden have they increased the number of scumbags here in Florida? It’s like they are sending as many numbers of units here as they can to stop us. They are protecting something.

FB2: They must know where the Energon Device is.

2600: If that is the case Flashback 2, they must know where it is but must not have it in their possession. They are stacking the battlefield in their favor. Won’t work.

7800: Dilly dilly.

2600: Hmmm, I would agree with that 7800. They are planning something for the 29th of April Block Party battle. They are trying to lure us in, especially after this Ninja Rebellion entry into the great war. It is nothing but a trick. Shame we’re smarter than they are, stupid scumbags. So smug about themselves. Can’t wait to eliminate them on the battlefield.

7800: Dilly dilly.

~2600 turns away from the whiteboard and looks at 7800.~

2600: I too can’t wait to smack Bert in his scumbag mouth. He is one mouthy Yamauchi scum sucker. There won’t be enough hemp in the world for him to smoke to numb the pain we’ll inflict upon him on the 29th of April.

7800: Dilly dilly!

2600: Yes! Until then, we should keep our distance from Bert and Ernie. Let’s pack up and move out before they try some weak ass sneak attack shit on us trying to catch us off guard!

FB2: Those silly bitches oughta know that Team ATARI is always ready! Ready to go into battle with no notice! I kinda wish they would try it right now! I have the urge to slap a motherfucker in the face!

2600: Sweet Jesus I love you!

FB2: What?

7800: Dilly?

2600: Nothing, I said nothing. Let’s get packed up, before we are discovered. Yeah! That’s it!

~2600 turns and rubs the whiteboard down and gathers the file folders. FB2 looks at 7800 and 7800 shrugs.~

~Fade out.~

Smith: And we're back! Let's take a look at the bracket for tonight's first round action

SiLVeRFReaK Bracket – Round 1
(1) The Big Bifford (10-3) vs. Duce Jones (0-0)

~The OCW Arena feels READY. It’s been a great night of action thus far…but now – now it’s time for the main course! Tournament action followed by a PPV quality main event! These fans are thirsty for the hard stuff (PHRASING). Belvedere clears his throat (PHRASING X2)~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a first round match in the Silverfreak bracket!!! Introducing first…

~The fans are buzzing, but soon turn to boos as a voice begins to speak through the PA system~

“And the whole world loves it when you sing the blues… Da. Da.. Da. Da. Da.. Da….”

~The opening sounds of “Godspeed” by Don Trip begins to play as the lights inside of the arena turn a crimson hue color, soon the stage filling up with smoke. After about a minute of waiting, Duce Jones slowly emerges through the fog, instantly inciting boos from the crowd~

Belvedere: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds! From Memphis, Tennessee… DUCE JONES!

~Slowly making his way towards the ring, Jones ignores the abuse that the fans are giving, as he soon makes it to ringside. Climbing onto the apron, Duce goes to the corner to his right, climbing onto the second rope and peering out into the crowd. Finally done, he jumps over the top rope, landing inside of the ring and removes his hooded vest as he prepares for action~

Smith: And here’s Duce Jones!

Hood: Deuce?

Smith: DUCE!

Hood: Oh, Duce…got it.

Smith: Did you know that Duce Jones is the son of Krayzie?

Hood: Crazy?

Smith: KRAYZIE!

Hood: Oh, Krayzie…got it. And, no…I did not know that.

Smith: He is…and did you know that Krayzie once competed against The Big Bifford at OCW’s Rookie’s Night Out back in 2001?

Hood: How the fuck would I remember that?

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~”Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio hits! The OCW Arena gives a strong pop for the malevolent, yet currently beloved BIG BIFFORD! He pauses at the top of the ramp…his MAGICAL FLEECE hangs over his giant shoulders. Bifford places his hands on his hips and scans the crowd in search of food, Dangerous Dan, Dangerous Dan fans, and potentially Silverfreak…in that order~

Smith: Nice to see Bifford’s fleece was returned to him.

Hood: His MAGICAL FLEECE

Smith: Yes, yes

Hood: Bifford picked a great time to return to OCW…serial killers are more popular than ever these days!

Smith: These fans seem to be behind the legend…I think it has to do more with circumstance than Bifford’s ‘nature’. He attempted to run Mike Best out of here two weeks ago and now, tonight, he’s facing an outsider.

Hood: Is Duce REALLY an outsider? You said his dad used to work here.

Smith: Indeed he did…Krayzie was a tremendous OCW competitor.

Belvedere: From Phoenix, Arizona…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 488lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is The Big Bifford!

~Bifford, with the RVD thumbs, does “T! B! B!” when Belvedere announces his name. The crowd chants along. Bifford finally walks down the ramp. Fans reach out, trying to touch Biff. A few succeed. One fan, wearing a ‘DANGER BOIZ RULE’ shirt is STUNG when he touches the MAGICAL FLEECE. Biff reaches ringside and lays on the apron, slowly rolling into the ring. He manages to fit his giant body underneath the bottom rope before getting to one knee. He finally stands and quickly SPINS around, facing Duce. Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~

Hood: How did Krayzie fare in that match against Bifford at Rookie’s Night Out?

Smith: He fought valiantly.

Hood: So he lost?

Smith: Sadly, he came up short. Duce, however, can right that wrong!

~Duce hops around, keeping an eye on the mammoth across the ring. Bifford places his fists atop his hips. A mysterious breeze blows across the MAGICAL FLEECE, enticing some of the hairs to dance a Celtic Jig. Bifford smirks. Duce continues to move around, fired up. He can’t take it anymore and rushes toward Bifford~

Smith: Duce has been waiting for over a month to compete in this tournament…he’s not going to wait any longer!

Hood: He’s running right into Bifford’s trap.

Smith: We’ll see about that, Hood. Duce has had a lot of time to plan for this match…I expect we’ll see a great performance.

~Duce leaps into the air. Bifford catches him!! Jones got some solid elevation, so he’s leaning a good ways behind Biff. He reaches out and grabs the ropes. Biff tries to carry Duce into the center of the ring, but Duce’s grip surprises Biff – he’s able to pull himself over Biff’s shoulder, out of the mammoth’s grasp. Biff turns around. Duce is standing on the middle rope…he jumps off, spins around and nails Biff in the face with a bicycle knee strike!! The big man is stunned!! The crowd pops for the move~

Smith: What athleticism by Duce! He’s got Bifford rocked!

Hood: But can he get him to roll?

Smith: What?

Hood: Sorry, bad joke.

~Duce runs toward the ropes…he jumps onto the middle rope, bounces off, spins around and smacks Biff in the side of the head with a Shining Wizard Knee Strike!!! Biff drops to one knee! The crowd is starting to form a line behind Duce…his high flying and aggressive attitude is winning them over. Duce starts to go for the V-Trigger…but he stops~

Smith: Interesting

Hood: Oh, hey…I’m all over this. I’ve heard Duce has reached a realization that he uses the V-Trigger…which he calls D-Trigga, too much during matches.

Smith: Really?

Hood: Hey, that’s just what I’ve heard.

~Duce backs up, jumps into the air and smacks Bifford in the face with a Superman punch!!! Bifford falls to his side. Duce hits the ropes, bounces off and performs a baseball slide, kicking the big man over onto his back. Duce hops on top of Bifford for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~

HUGE KICK OUT!

Smith: Whoa!

Hood: Last time I saw Biff use that much force with his arms was when he blew the doors to catering off their hinges earlier today.

~Duce is already back on his feet, thanks to the monstrous kickout. Bifford sits up, his MAGICAL FLEECE, still intact. Duce seems a bit surprised but continues to remain focused. He hits the ropes. Biff gets to one knee. Duce bounces off and jumps, legs first at Biff, wrapping his legs around Biff’s head with a hurricanrana. Biff, however, powers up!!! He holds onto Duce and DRILLS him into the mat with a HUGE powerbomb!!! The ring shakes with impact. Duce is down, wincing in pain, holding the back of his neck. Biff suddenly starts to spin around, removing his MAGICAL FLEECE! It is…a glorious sight~

Smith: Bifford is on his feet and, well, doing Bifford things.

Hood: How majestic…have you ever seen a fleece with such class…such dignity?

Smith: No…it’s a fleece.

Hood: No, Smith…it’s a MAGICAL fleece.

~Bifford takes his MAGICAL FLEECE off and walks toward the ropes. He gently drops the MAGICAL FLEECE onto the outside floor. His head suddenly jerks up, looking out into the crowd as though he’s spotted something. There’s a fan with a painted face singing lyrics to a terrible song. Bifford yells out “DAN!” The man turns around and points at his chest as if to ponder, “Me?” Biff yells out once again, “DAN!!!” He starts to step through the ropes. Duce is back on his feet. He runs forward and dropkicks Biff in the back!! Bifford falls forward…his arms draped over the middle rope. Duce runs against the opposite set of ropes, he bounces off and charges forward…he swings through the ropes and drills Biff in the face with a Swinging Knee Lift (Nice to Knee You)!!! Bifford falls to his side, inside the ring. Duce, back in the ring, faces the difficult task of dragging Biff near the center for a pin attempt~

Smith: Yea, this isn’t going to be easy.

Hood: And people say being fat is a disadvantage. It’s Biff’s greatest weapon!

Smith: Faint praise, I’d say.

Hood: Hey, if you’re going to faint do it over there. I don’t need you laying all over me…I get enough of that shit while flying coach.

~Duce can’t move the big man. It’s 500 pounds of dead weight. So, he heads for the corner and hops onto the middle buckle, waiting for Biff to rise and move himself. Biff finally sits up. He holds his head…it must be aching. He gets to his feet. Duce leaps off the middle rope with a dropkick!! He nails Bifford right in the chest!! Bifford stumbles back into a corner. Duce kips up and rushes forward. He starts to chop and punch, chop and punch, chop and punch…he does this repeatedly, thrashing Bifford’s corpulent flesh. He finally grabs Biff around the head and drags him out of the corner, jumping up and spiking him face first into the mat with a head butt. Bifford is down. Duce struggles but manages to get Biff over. He jumps on top, looking for the pin~

Shoulder Up!

Smith: Closer but still not quite.

Hood: Duce is working his ass off, man. Would I get fired for saying I kinda hope he wins?

Smith: Probably not the smartest thing to say on air.

~Duce slaps the mat, frustrated. He’s chopping and chopping and chopping at this big, fat tree but he can’t quite get it to topple over. Jones pops back to his feet. He’s feeding off the energy of revenge…the energy of righting a wrong. His father, nearly twenty years ago lost to Bifford at Rookie’s Night Out. This is Duce’s chance to avenge that defeat. Bifford is slow in reaching his feet. Duce hops on a corner, behind Bifford. He ascends to the top buckle. Bifford stands. Duce jumps off, flipping head first…on the way down he grabs Biff’s head and drops him with a Blockbuster!!! Bifford is stunned, backing up against the ropes. Duce is quickly back on his feet. He runs forward, driving a knee into Biff’s giant gut. He hooks Biff for an RKO. He leaps up…but Biff throws him off!! Duce stumbles forward. Biff stumbles at Duce like he’s a giant piece of meat. Duce throws a mule kick!! It hits Biff kinda low. He then spins around with a roundhouse kick, smacking Biff across the face. He finally caps things off with a superkick that straights Biff up! Duce hits the ropes, he bounces off and dives at the back of Biff’s legs, taking them out from under the OCW legend. Duce remains behind Biff as he falls over Duce…who rolls over and pins Biff with the most awkward looking school boy ever (due to Biff’s size). Scruff slides in~

3…NO!

Smith: Biff kicked out again!

Hood: Duce is going to run out of juice here in a minute.

Smith: Been sitting on that one?

Hood: Oh yea

~Duce can’t believe it! This is some KRAYZIE shit!! He returns to his feet and leans against the ropes, sucking air. He looks over at Biff with hatred. Like many people…he’s only been around Biff a few minutes but already hates this man. Bifford, like the hands of time, just keeps moving and coming…he doesn’t stop. He sits up. Duce raises up with determination~

Smith: I’ve heard that Duce has been practicing a new move to put his opponents away.

Hood: You been chatting with Duce?

Smith: A little…nice guy! But I’ve heard he’s implementing a kick to the chest, followed by a spinning backfist…all capped off by the D-Trigga.

Hood: Are we finally going to see the D-Trigga?

Smith: Maybe…like I said, he’s started using it. Doesn’t mean this series has been perfected…but it could be enough to keep Bifford down.

~Bifford gets to one knee. Duce runs forward and delivers a wicked shoot kick to Biff’s chest! Duce spins around and smacks Biff in the face with a backfirst. Bifford is reeling. Duce takes a step back, gathering his wits. The fans chant “D-TRIGGA!” everyone knows what’s coming next…it’s a move that Duce uses more than any other. Duce finally decides to let it rip. He lunges forward with the D-Trigga!!!! But Biff catches him!!! Biff rises to his feet like a fucking Kraken out of the sea…he turns Duce downward, leaps into the air and crushes Duce into the mat with THE BIFF END!! The entire ring shakes from impact! Biff holds on for the pin…Scruff slides in with the count~

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!

Smith: Bifford rises up and steals this one!

Hood: Holy shit, man. Duce had it…until he didn’t.

Smith: I think he went a little overboard, Hood. Plus…the D-Trigga…you know, of all the moves that was the one Biff had scouted out.

Hood: Yea, you use a move that often and people…even Biff, are going to pick up on it.

Smith: Indeed…tremendous showing by Duce…but, The Big Bifford moves on!

~Backstage, outside the locker room of “The Marvel” Matt Meyhu, there is silence. The former OCW champion is nowhere to be found. Instead, his manager, Ezra Rosenberg, stands outside. Leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed, Ezra bites his nails. Finally, he tests the waters. He knocks on the door, just below the “TBA” name plate.~

Ezra Rosenberg: So, uh… Mattie… What do we do now?

~No response.~

Ezra Rosenberg: Come on, Mattie! We still got options. Maybe you can get your spot back in the tournament!

Voice: I think that ship has sailed, sorry.

~Who’re approaches the distraught manager and the locked door. She motions toward the door. ~

Who’re: He available to comment?

Ezra Rosenberg: Mattie! The lady reporter is here to chat! What should I tell her?

Who’re: I have a name you know.

Ezra Rosenberg: Yeah, but it feels like a trap. Mattie! You alive in there?

Who’re: May I?

Ezra Rosenberg: Knock yourself out.

~Who’re approaches the door and leans in toward it.~

Who’re: Hey Matt! Quick question. Marcus Welsh announced the main event of Block Party, as I'm sure you heard. I'm curious what your plan moving forward is. This, mixed with your curious decision to exit the tournament, has left you without a match for Block Party. It seems like it wasn't so long ago you were on the winning end of some of these decisions.

~She barely gets the final word out before the door swings open. An irate Matt Meyhu stares her down with a gym bag over his shoulder. He tries to push past her with his eyes. She stands her ground.~

Matt Meyhu: Oh did I?! Did I benefit- Get out of my way. Get her out of my way.

Ezra Rosenberg: You've got a better shot at getting me to say her name.

~Who’re rolls her eyes and steps out of Meyhu’s way. The former OCW champion steps by and slams the door shut behind him.~

Matt Meyhu: As for what's next?

~Meyhu grabs the TBA nameplate and rips it off the door. He shows it to the pair questioning him.~

Matt Meyhu: TBA.

~Meyhu stomps away out of the frame, leaving Ezra and Who’re standing there.~

Ezra Rosenberg: So…

~Who’re walks away.~

Smith: This isn't good, Hood. Meyhu is the core of OCW...Welsh may have given him reason to 'look around'.

Hood: Yea, you could argue that Welsh is currently cheating on Meyhu with the eMpire...in a metaphorical way, obviously. The only legit cheating he might be doing would be with...well, I'd rather not say.

Smith: Wise move. The realization that he is not TBA has hit Meyhu harder than anybody could have expected. Let us hope we see Meyhu back on OCW television very soon.

Hood: Shit...I didn't think about him leaving. DON'T LEAVE US, CHAMP

Smith: If there is one man who could possibly fix all this - it's Zybala. He is scheduled to compete next in a very strange situation...if he wins, he is one step closer to becoming OCW Champion. But, it would also mean Welsh's run as GM would be extended. If Zybala loses...he's back in power and can hopefully restore some of the order here in Online Championship Wrestling. Let's head down to ringside to find out what will become of Zybala and his immediate OCW future.

SiLVeRFReaK Bracket – Round 1
(4) Mike Zybala (7-3) vs. (5) Hayley Robinson (12-6)

~A loud “ZYBALA” chant echoes throughout the OCW Arena! These fans are on FYRE! They may even be LYT. Fucking lyt. SPELL YOUR SHIT RIGHT. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen Zybala compete inside the squared circle but tonight…tonight HE RETURNS. And, it’s all on the line…his dream of becoming OCW Champion and General Manager, all in one, impressive, historic run. But, first…he must take care of business, tonight. Belvedere clears his throat~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a first round match in the Silverfreak Bracket! Introducing first…

~”Mouth for War” by Pantera hits! The crowd pops! The pop would be louder, but these people are TEAM ZYBALA. They do, however, respect the never give up attitude of Hayley Robinson!! Hayley appears from behind the curtain with a determined look. She sprints down the ramp and slides into the ring. There are no theatrics…she’s entirely focused on the task at hand~

Belvedere: From Pine Bluff, Arkansas…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 130lbs…Hayley ‘The Raven’ Robinson!!!

Smith: I feel like I’m saying this a lot lately…but this appears to be the biggest match in Hayley’s young career.

Hood: THIS IS THE GREATEST NIGHT IN THE HISTORY OF OUR SPORT

Smith: Okay, I’m not THAT bad.

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

WHEN IT’S TIME TO PARTY WE WILL PARTY HARD

~The crowd goes INSANE!!! Mike Zybala, the OCW General Manager (on active leave) steps out from behind the curtain! He throws superkicks into the air and hops around, keeping the crowd fired up! Zybala hustles down the ramp slapping hands with every fan within reach. He reaches the ring and hops, flat footed onto the apron before leaping over the top rope and sticking a perfect landing inside the ring. He spins around and throws some more superkicks in the direction of the HARD camera. Hayley remains in her corner, taking all this in~

Belvedere: From Buffalo, New York…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 175lbs…Mike Zybala!!

Smith: Listen to these fans! They are 100% behind Zybala!

Hood: That’s Mr. Zybala to you! Only I can refer to him as Zybala.

Smith: And why is that?

Hood: Because I’m Team Welsh!

~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~

Smith: And here we go!! The winner moves on to the second round! If Hayley wins, Zybala returns to his role as OCW General Manager. If Zybala wins…he advances and Welsh remains our GM for at least two additional weeks.

Hood: Who do you think Welsh is pulling for?

Smith: That…is an excellent question. I just hope he doesn’t do anything to ruin what should be a tremendous match up!

~The fans continue to chant “ZYBALA!” Mike looks over at Hayley. He heads her way. HR coils, her muscles tense, she balls up her fists…Zybala stops and extends his hand. The crowd pops. Hayley’s posture loosens. She stands upright and dissects the situation, quickly. She extends a fist. Mike closes his hand and bumps fists with Hayley to a huge reaction. The two begin to circle one another after a good show of respect~

Smith: Now that’s what I like to see!

Hood: Oh please…Hayley only did that because Zybala will, sadly, be her boss once again in the very near future. If he were regular, old Zybala she would have kicked him right in the face.

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. Hayley is 100% genuine.

~The circling slows. It stops. They measure one another up. Zybala seeks a lock up…Hayley ducks his attempt. Their backs are facing each other…Hayley turns around first and throws a wild punch. Zybala turns around and ducks! Once again their backs are facing one another…Zybala spins around and throws a SUPERKICK! Haley turns around and ducks just in time!! Once again, their backs are to each other…this time, their backs touch. They both turn around, coiled and ready to fight. The crowd goes wild~

Smith: Hayley’s offensive wild and unpredictable. Zybala…well, he’s a superkicking machine.

Hood: No shit, man. He’s already thrown, like 12 superkicks. You’d think he’d actually try to hit something every once in awhile.

Smith: He’s just warming up the leg.

Hood: Or tiring it out…he’s not getting any younger, Smith.

~Hayley and Zybala finally lock up! Zybala grabs Hayley’s arm and pulls it behind her back. He instantly transitions from that position to a side headlock. Zybala smiles, showing he’s still got a decent grasp on the technical side of pro wrestling. Hayley throws some short jabs into Zybala’s ribs. Mike winces. Hayley slips out of his grip and backs into the ropes. She ricochets off. Zybala turns around. Hayley dives at him with a spear. He catches her and lifts her up for a powerbomb! Hayley, at the apex of the bomb, punches Zybala in the head! Zybala loses his grip. She hops over, landing on her feet behind Zybala. She hits the ropes, bounces off and charges at Mike. Zybala spins around and throws another SUPERKICK. Hayley ducks, slides and rolls Zybala up for a pin~

Kick Out!

Smith: Great action! Hayley looks quicker than Zybala!

Hood: Fuck, let’s hope so.

Smith: I’m just saying!

~Hayley is back to her feet. Zybala isn’t far behind. Hayley jumps up with a flying knee. Zybala ducks and catches Hayley across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry! Hayley freaks out and tries to wiggle free. She throws some elbows into the side of Mike’s neck. Mike’s legs weaken. He tries to toss Hayley over with an Attitude Adjustment…but Hayley lands on her feet. She runs into a corner and hops onto the middle buckle. She leaps off with a moonsault. Zybala catches her over his shoulder! He spins around and drills her into the mat with a powerslam!! The crowd pops as Zybala has finally executed a move!! Hayley remains on the mat, curled up and laying on her side~

Smith: All that back and forth resulting in a powerslam from Mike Zybala

Hood: Yea but if Hayley keeps this shit up she could tire out the…ugh…I hate to say it…the GM on leave.

Smith: Perhaps…although I think we all have a habit of selling Mr. Zybala short. He’s won about as many titles in his career as anyone else on the roster.

Hood: Shitty backyard feds don’t count, Smith.

~Zybala backs into a corner and throws a few superkicks. The crowd goes wild! He’s ready to hit Hayley with his SUPERKICK. The fans begin to boo. Mike turns and sees MARCUS WELSH heading down to the ring with KNUX at his side~

Smith: What is THIS?!

Hood: Welsh is down here to make sure things go according to plan, Smith.

Smith: And what EXACTLY does that mean?

Hood: I…well, I’m not sure.

~They reach the bottom of the ramp. Welsh has Knux by his side. He grips the sleeve belonging to Knux’s shirt. Zybala throws his hands at Welsh, choosing to ignore his presence. Hayley is back on her feet. Zybala lunges forward with his SUPERKICK!! Hayley ducks and leaps into the air, grabbing Zybala’s head as he stumbles by and dropping him with a neckbreaker!!! The crowd pops for the move! They aren’t as behind Hayley as they are Zybala…but they still like her~

Smith: Great move by Hayley to avoid near certain defeat!

Hood: This thing is far from over, Smith…unless Welsh says it’s over.

Smith: He’s got something in mind…the question is, what?

Hood: It boils down to whether or not he wants Zybala to win.

~Zybala doesn’t stay down long. He returns to his feet, holding the back of his neck. Hayley is also standing. She goes right after Zybala with a series of jabs that land without any rhyme or reason. Some hit Mike in the chest, others in the stomach…a few in the ribs, some in the jaw, cheek, and a few in the neck. Mike staggers back into a corner, reeling from all the blows. Welsh’s grip on Knux’s shirt tightens. He’s growing anxious. Hayley steps up on the middle buckle and delivers several punches to Mike’s head. The crowd is counting along. They reach nine. Hayley pauses before lunging forward with a tenth and decisive head butt!! She steps down and backs away. Mike stumbles forward before falling face first on the mat~

Smith: Tremendous flurry of offense by Hayley Robinson! She’s got Mike Zybala on his heels…or, rather, his toes!

Hood: More like his nose, if we’re trying to be accurate.

Smith: I suppose!

~Mike fights to his feet. Hayley stands back, ready to pounce. Zybala stands and turns around. Hayley jumps up and drills him with a Bicycle Kick!!! Zybala hits the mat hard. Hayley dives on top of Mike for the pin. Welsh, looking antsy, finally shoves Knux yelling “Go! Go!” Knux takes off. Scruff slides in with the count~

NO!

Smith: Knux just pulled Zybala out of the ring before the three!

Hood: Ah, so now we see…Welsh is more concerned with power. He would rather Zybala win this tournament than return to his GM role.

Smith: Ugh, poor Hayley. She’s screwed again.

Hood: Serves her right for taking OCW radio so seriously. LET IT GO, WOMAN

~Hayley is furious. Knux has Zybala in his arms. He looks ready to toss him into something. Zybala breaks free and superkicks Knux!!! Hayley comes flying through the ropes immediately after Zybala’s superkick lands with a hurricanrana! She wraps her legs around Knux’s head and tosses him into the barricade!!! The fans go crazy!! Knux is down! Welsh has that “Oh shit” look on his face. Hayley pops back to her feet and looks at Zybala. Zybala returns the glance~

Smith: Interesting dynamic…are they going to work together to go after Welsh?

Hood: I’d fucking hope not…a shot at the OCW Title is on the line!

~They roll back into the ring. Zybala walks toward the ropes and yells at Welsh, warning him to keep his distance. Welsh holds his arms in the air acting like he’s cool. Hayley, meanwhile, stands behind Zybala, poised. Zybala turns around and he eats HELL AWAITS!! The fans freak out!!! Zybala is unconscious! Hayley leaps on Zybala. Scruff slides in~

NOOOO

Smith: Welsh pulled Hayley out!

Hood: A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

Smith: This is ridiculous!

~Hayley glares at Welsh. She realizes a win…a chance to move into the second round was just ripped away. Welsh warns her…he mentions ‘fired’. Hayley grits her teeth. Her fists are clenched. The fans chant “YES! YES!”~

Smith: Don’t do it, Hayley! He’ll fire you!

Hood: Lay him out, kid. Then you’ll be free to pursue your true talent…webcam model.

Smith: That’s vile and disgusting!

~Hayley wants to hit him so bad. So bad. She rears back and…stops! It takes everything within her…but the petulant, irascible youth finds enough equanimity to keep from pulling the trigger. She turns and sprints back toward the ring before she’s able to change her mind. She slides in. Zybala is sitting up, dazed. Hayley pulls him to his feet. She whips him into a corner. Zybala hits hard. Hayley charges in looking for South of Heaven (Yakuza Kick). Zybala moves!! Hayley’s foot gets caught on the top rope! Zybala grabs Hayley, positions her and tosses her over his head with a Capture Suplex!!! Robinson hits hard, arching her back in pain. Welsh claps from outside the ring, “WAY TO GO, MIKEY! YOU GOT THIS, BUDDY!” Zybala glares at Welsh~

Smith: What does Zybala do? It’s obvious that Welsh has corrupted this match. Any win for Zybala at this point would be tainted.

Hood: If he’s got balls he’ll go ahead and win the fucking thing.

Smith: Saying things like that…you’d better hope he wins.

~Hayley is returning to her feet. Welsh points and says “Get her!” Zybala turns around and sees Robinson…his instincts kick in. He lunges forward and blasts Hayley with a SUPERKICK!!! The crowd is mixed. Hayley collapses to the mat. Zybala is about to go for the pin when…BEEP! BEEP! Is heard. Scruff and Zybala turn around. Welsh’s back is to the entrance. A giant 18 wheeler comes backing in from behind the curtain. Welsh slowly turns around with fear in his eyes~

Smith: What’s going on?!

Hood: Oh please…please..NO

Smith: Is that…is that the truck with all of Alice’s homeless people?

Hood: NOOOO

~It is! Alice is seated on top with a megaphone in her hand. She puts it to her lips and yells~

Alice: RELEASE THE MUSTARD!

~The crowd goes wild!! The back doors to the 18 wheeler open up and a bunch of mustard (along with bums) comes spilling out! Welsh sprints toward the ring, scrambling to get onto the apron. The mustard flows toward him. He acts as though it’s hot lava. It nears his shoe. He manages to get on the apron just before the mustard can reach him. The fans boo!! Mustard is everywhere…bums are swimming/stuck in it. But, they don’t mind, they are licking it up. Welsh looks down, disgusted. He turns and looks at Zybala, who threatens a superkick. Welsh points at Hayley, who is still down. Zybala turns around…he contemplates his next action and, like any true competitor, decides to go for the pin. He dives on top of Hayley…Scruff slides in with the count~

Kick Out!!

Smith: She kicked out!

Hood: I’d fucking hope so…all this mustard bull shit clearly cost Zybala.

Smith: So you want Zybala to win?

Hood: Hell yes…we need more Welsh!

~Zybala pops back to his feet. He’s furious. He went for the pin and didn’t secure it. Welsh is yelling at him from the apron “STAY ON HER! C’MON, MIKE! ONE MORE SUPERKICK!” Zybala releases a frustrated sigh…he’s dealing with some internal strife. He finally turns to Welsh with a smile. Welsh’s eyes pop. He yells “Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!!” Zybala lunges forward with a SUPERKICK!!! Welsh goes flying off the apron right into the mustard!!! The fans go wild!! Alice, on top of the 18 wheeler, starts to flap her wings and hoot! The fans all “HOOT!” along. Zybala leans over the top rope, smiling. Guy looks like he could go for a cigarette~

Smith: Yes! Take that, Welsh!

Hood: Dumbest move you ever made, Mike.

Smith: The mustard has been released and Welsh is swimming in it!

~Zybala turns around, refocusing on the match. He’s BLASTED IN THE FACE by Hayley with SOUTH OF HEAVEN!!! Zybala is out on his feet, turning his back to Hayley. He leans against the ropes. She grabs him by the waist, lifts him up and drops him with a German Suplex! She bridges for the pin! The fans are going wild~

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…HAYLEY ‘THE RAVEN’ ROBINSON!!!!!

Smith: She did it! Hayley has upset Zybala!

Hood: Fucking HELL

Smith: That means Mike will be our GM once again next Monday!

Hood: THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS!

~Hayley seems a little surprised that she pulled it off. She gets her hand raised to a HUGE ovation. Welsh, covered in mustard looks into the ring and yells “FUCK!!!” He slaps his hands around in the mustard like an angry child~

Smith: He won’t be GM for much longer…a fact he is clearly unhappy about.

Hood: I guess he’s got the rest of the night…or, does he?

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. I think it’s effective immediately.

Hood: Fuckin hell.

Smith: The mustard has been released! Hayley Robinson is moving on…we need to get this area cleaned up…so, while we do that, let’s cut to commercial!

~We cut backstage to find the name on Ariel’s parking spot being removed. Our view zooms out to show the head of HR, CAP SLOCK pondering what to do~

Cap Slock: IT’S A DAMN SHAME. THAT WOMAN HAD A SHOT AT WINNING THIS TOURNAMENT BUT NOW SHE’S GONE. OH WELL. THAT IS LIFE.

Jones: What about CJ?

~Jones pops up almost out of nowhere~

Cap Slock: CJ IS SUFFERING FROM SOME LINGERING KNEE ISSUES. AS HEAD OF HR I SIMPLY CANNOT GO AGAINST THE KNIFE MAN’S ORDERS AND ALLOW HIM TO COMPETE.

Jones: So they are both out…they are – ghosting?

Spooky Voice: Booooooooooooooooo

~Everyone jumps. They spot THE SPOOKY GHOST MAN. He's looking very spooky, as is his spooky bottle of Mickeys malt liquor~

Cap Slock: BY JOVE IT’S THE GHOST MAN!

Jones: Ghost Man…what are you doing here? We haven’t seen you since you were pinned by John E Depth

~Ghost Man shakes around, spookily. He hovers over toward the SiLVeRFReaK bracket and places a very spooky fucking BLOCKED image over Ariel and CJ. He then turns around and spookily exits the room~

Ghost Man: wooOOOoooOOoOO

Jones: So, they are out?

Cap Slock: YES JONES IT APPEARS AS THOUGH THEY ARE BOTH OUT AND THE MATCH HAS BEEN CANCELLED.

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: So glad we were able to fit that in.

Hood: Ghost Man is LEGIT

Smith: He’s not even a real ghost! The entire thing is preposterous…I…I…you know what? Never mind…is the mustard cleaned up? It is? Great! Let’s head down to ringside for what happens to be our third and final tournament match of the evening.

SiLVeRFReaK Bracket – Round 1
(2) Bob Grenier (26-15) vs. (7) Canaan Crowley (1-0)

~We’re halfway through the final bracket of the first round. The Block Party tournament is FLYING BY. Or, well, for some, anyway. The crowd has enjoyed a ton of action, as is the case in OCW these days, but they want more. Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is a first round contest in the Silverfreak Bracket! Introducing first…

~"Death Dealer" by The Enigma TNG begins to play. The fans give a mostly negative reaction when they see Canaan Crowley. It’s been awhile since Crowley appeared on OCW television. However, these fans remember him…hard to forget a man with so many tattoos. He makes his way down the ramp and slides into the ring, ready for action~

Belvedere: From Black Diamond, Washington…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 220lbs…Canaan Crowley!!!

Smith: I believe the last time we saw Canaan compete Bifford was running the show.

Hood: Ah, so that’s why I don’t remember this guy.

Smith: He was very impressive in his debut and looks to upset Bob Grenier here tonight!

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

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: Bob looking ready to compete once again.

Hood: He’s the 2019 version of OCW’s ironman!

Smith: Indeed, Bob’s been putting in the work this year and it’s been paying off.

~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~

Smith: Hard to predict what will happen in this one. Bob is the veteran, the legend…the champion. Canaan is extremely talented but a relative unknown.

Hood: Puts both men at a disadvantage, really. Canaan might be rusty or too green to handle this type of situation…but, on the flip side, Bob has no idea what’s coming his way.

Smith: Indeed…one of the more unique situations we’ve witnessed thus far in this tournament.

~Bob walks up to Canaan. Crowley seems prepared for just about anything. Bob extends his hand with a smile. The fans chant “NO!” a woman with many tattoos yells “DON’T DO IT, CANAAN! I LOVE YOU!!” Canaan does not acknowledge the woman. Crowley reaches out and slaps Bob’s hand away! The fans are like “oooohhhh”. Bob’s jaw tightens, but he tries to play it off by saying “okay, okay, while nodding his head”~

Smith: Good for Crowley! Don’t fall for his tactics!

Hood: You kidding me? Bob was extending the arm of friendship!

Smith: How do you know?

Hood: Because he was using his right arm, Smith. Bob never deceives with his right arm. Only his left.

~Bob extends his hands, continuing to act like the rebuke doesn’t bother him. Crowley tilts his head, looking sideways at Bob. Bob suddenly reaches out and pokes Crowley in the eye!! Crowley is stunned. Bob jumps Canaan with right hands, pummeling Crowley in the head!! Crowley’s wet hair flies around as he backs into a corner, trapped. Bob continues to beat on Crowley as if the mother fucker stole from him~

Smith: What a jerk!

Hood: Seriously? Bob’s a gentleman. After Crowley REFUSED to shake his truth filled right arm Bob could have got angry but NO. Instead, he tried to remove some debris from Crowley’s eye…and Crowley, being the spaz that he is, freaked out, causing an accidental eye poke.

Smith: Okay Mr. Fake News…explain the right hands that followed.

Hood: Well, I mean the bell rang like five minutes ago. Bob figured the fans were tired of sitting around…he is a man of the people.

Smith: Whatever

~Bob ceases with the punching and doubles down on some forearm uppercuts! Crowley’s upper body jerks back in violent fashion with each smack. He’s leaning forward, arms draped over the top rope, reeling from all the impact blows. Bob grabs Canaan by the head and leans in, head butting Crowley in the back of the head. Canaan stumbles forward and drops to one knee. Bob casually walks up and delivers a kick to the back of Canaan’s head. Crowley falls over, landing on his back~

Smith: Grenier showing no mercy.

Hood: He showed plenty of mercy early on…but Canaan was like “No, don’t give me any mercy” and Bob was like “Well, okay then.”

Smith: Wrong

Hood: How am I wrong?

Smith: You just are

~Bob removes some tape from around his fist (he tapes his fists)…he drops to his knees and wraps the tape around Canaan’s throat. Scruff rushes in, counting to five. He tries to yank Bob away…Bob chokes Canaan for far longer than he should…he finally lets go of the tape and stands, arms in the air. The fans chant “ASSHOLE!” Bob smirks and looks down at Crowley…he takes his finger and shuts off one nostril…he blows a bunch of snot out of the open nostril down at Crowley. The fans are disgusted. Even Scruff is like “gross.” Bob looks into the camera breathing like a man with an open nasal passage~

Smith: Vile! Absolutely vile!

Hood: I hope Canaan is inoculated…otherwise he might catch some deadly Canadian virus

Smith: All our wrestlers are cleared of any sort of ‘deadly’ virus before stepping into this ring.

Hood: What about AIDS?

Smith: Definitely AIDS

~Crowley is down…the tape from Bob’s right fist is wrapped loosely around his neck. He’s coughing, struggling to recover. We won’t go into detail over Bob’s phlegm that’s stuck to his body. We will spare you that much. Grenier scratches his crotch, looking down at Canaan…Bob is one filthy man. He grabs the tape and yanks on it, using it as a collar to get Crowley up. The fans continue to boo…Scruff threatens a DQ…but Bob knows Scruff doesn’t have the balls to do it~

Smith: I wish one of these days Scruff would DQ someone

Hood: Dude that’s like blocking someone on twitter…WEAK ASS

Smith: I block lots of people on twitter.

Hood: You would

~Grenier yanks the tape as hard as he can. Crowley stumbles forward, into a corner. He falls to his knees, leaning his chin up against the second buckle. An idea strikes Bob. He lets go of the tape and runs toward the ropes…he jumps onto the second rope, springboards off and comes down with an attempted Curb Stomp. Crowley moves! Bob’s foot slams into the middle buckle!! His knee jams up! He falls backward, holding onto his knee. Crowley, on the apron, begins to recover~

Smith: Bob got a little greedy and it backfired

Hood: Dude’s got a bad back…and now his knee is all jammed up! He’s going to need some new body parts if he wants to keep going.

Smith: Unfortunately for Bob that’s pretty much impossible.

Hood: I dunno, man. He should probably talk to Max Kael.

~Bob is the first to his feet. Crowley remains on the apron, on his back. Bob walks around, working his right leg back and forth, trying to rejuvenate the afflicted knee. Crowley sits up, his back to the ring. Bob pauses…his pure wrestling instincts are kicking in. He looks over his shoulder and sees Crowley in prime position for an attack. Bob looks down at his knee and says “fuck it”. He takes off, running with a slight limp. He hits the ropes, bounces off and leaps, feet first, into the air at Canaan. Canaan moves!! Bob’s body flies through the ropes, feet first. He tries to grab the ropes on his way out but is unable to…he lands outside right on his back with a sickening thud!! His mouth opens wide as he gasps for air. The crowd pops! Canaan, still seated on the mat, hops off looking down at Bob with a determined expression~

Smith: Another move that blew up in Bob’s face.

Hood: Good news about that landing is it made his knee feel a whole hell of a lot better.

Smith: Well, yea, I guess there’s some truth to that.

~Crowley lays some heavy footed boots into Grenier’s body. Bob tries to cover up but he’s still partially paralyzed from the fall. His lungs work overtime to try and refill with oxygen. Canaan offers no reprieve for the gasping Grenier. He yanks Bob up and drills him with a lariat!! Bob’s body flies backward, into the barricade!! It prevents him from falling. He leans forward, right into a kick from Canaan. Canaan hooks Bob and lifts him up for a suplex! He drops Bob down, on the outside, right on top of his head with a brainbuster!!! Bob’s body goes limp! The fans at ringside go wild…they love some unnecessarily violence. Canaan pops to his feet and rips the tape from around his throat, tossing it down on Bob~

Smith: Crowley has taken control of this match. Bob might be knocked out!

Hood: A fucking brainbuster on the outside? Geezus…Bob’s going to be a zombie by the time Block Party gets here.

Smith: His body is like a tank, Hood. It can absorb a ton of punishment.

Hood: Yea but even tanks eventually expire.

~Canaan picks a lifeless Grenier up and tosses him back into the ring. Crowley hops on the apron looking like he’s nearly recovered from Bob’s initial onslaught. He steps into the ring. Bob’s rolling around, begging to come to. Crowley takes his boot and places it under Bob’s chin, aiding in his recovery. Grenier gets to his feet…dude looks like he’s smoked fifteen (or sixteen) bowls. He’s wobbly and incontinent? (hopefully not). Crowley suddenly spins around with a backfirst…he does it again…and then a third time (Ode to Cerberus)!! Bob puts up his fists before dropping face first to the mat! The fans give a huge ovation for Crowley’s offense~

Smith: Crowley’s not the most likeable guy…but given how Bob treated him early on plus his underdog status the fans have chosen them as their favorite.

Hood: Fans are stupid…doesn’t this guy worship the fucking devil?

Smith: I’d rather not speculate on a person’s religious beliefs.

Hood: Pussy

~Crowley grabs Bob by his greasy hair. He yanks the OCW legend to his feet and hoists him onto his shoulders. The crowd rises with anticipation~

Smith: He’s going for Trial by Fire!

Hood: A Satanist AND pyromaniac…this mother fucker is dangerous!

Smith: And he may be en route to the biggest upset of the tournament thus far!

~Once again Bob’s instincts kick in. He bites down on Canaan’s arm! Crowley is stunned by the pain. Bob rolls off his shoulders and to the mat, pulling Canaan down in the process for a surprise pin attempt! Scruff slides in~

Kick Out!

Smith: Wow! Bob nearly stole this one! That’s the thing about Grenier…you may think he’s out but the guy always fights back.

Hood: Bob’s got those instincts, Smith. Plus, he kills wild animals for dinner.

Smith: Okay.

~Crowley pops back to his feet. Bob isn’t far behind. Canaan throws a roundhouse kick. Bob ducks! He grabs Crowley from behind and tosses him over his head with a release German Suplex!! Crowley hits hard…but, again, rolls over and returns to his feet. He marches toward Bob a bit more punch drunk than before. Bob knees Canaan in the gut and secures a Front Chancery!! The crowd reacts…they know what this leads to~

Smith: O'Gormans Neuce!! This is the calling card to the Hollinger Park Hangman!

Hood: Goodnight Mr. Devil Man

~Crowley’s face turns as red as Satan’s ass. Bob’s really clamping down the pressure. We see a welt on his forehead from the brainbuster he suffered earlier in the match. His eyes are a little heavy…but he shakes his head, keeping his ass awake. He winces and yells out, the muscles in his arms tighten and flex. He appears to have Crowley on the verge of unconsciousness – until something crazy happens. Canaan takes control of the situation…he rises up, lifts Grenier into the air and drops him with a Northern Lights Suplex!!! The fans are stunned! Crowley bridges for the pin~

3…NO!

Smith: Bob kicked out!

Hood: The power of satan is running through Crowley’s veins, Smith!

Smith: I don’t know what got into him but he showed the type of power and resiliency that champions are made of.

Hood: Yep…too bad for Mr. Crowley that this match isn’t over.

~Crowley is on his side, gasping for air. His face is still red as hell. Bob sits up, shaking his head. It’s clear a few screws are loose. Crowley flattens out and does a push up, getting to his feet. Bob struggles returning to his. Crowley, red faced and drenched in sweat, coils, ready to strike. Bob is on his feet, his back to Canaan. Bob turns around and Canaan leaps up for an RKO! Bob feels Canaan grabbing for his head and shoves him off. Crowley lands on his feet…he runs forward and leaps into the air…he springboards off the top rope with a moonsault! Bob catches him on his shoulders!!! The crowd jumps to their feet with shock. Bob spins Crowley around and drops him with Chula Vista Dirt Bomb!!! He holds on for the pin~

3!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…BOB GRENIER!!!!!

Smith: Grenier did it! He may be foul but you cannot deny his toughness.

Hood: He caught Crowley in mid air…holy shit, I thought Crowley had him.

Smith: Indeed…Canaan looked good tonight but he was just one missed opportunity shy of pulling off the huge upset.

Hood: Well, Bob moves on.

Smith: Yep…2019 – the year of Bob Grenier marches forward.

Hood: So the first round is over?

Smith: It is complete...let's take a look at the updated SiLVeRFReaK bracket!

Smith: It'll be interesting to see what happens with that open slot.

Hood: Give it to the eMpire!

Smith: Uh, no...speaking of, our huge main event is just moments away. Let's cut backstage

~Moments before the main event is slated to begin, the camera cuts backstage in the OCW arena, to an open locker room door marked “eMpire”. This is clearly where the eMpire gets changed and ready to compete, or else someone has done a piss poor job at labelling the locker rooms.~

~The cameraman, along with ring announce AKB, step into the room unannounced, finding Michael Best, who has just finished getting dressed to compete in a few moments. He adjusts the elbow pad on his left arm, giving himself a last look over in the mirror. Standing next to him, a guest appears to be enjoying seeing him on display, but she quickly side eyes the camera and takes a half step back.~

~The OCW Paradigm Champion, Kitty Petrova.~

Kitty Petrova: ...and that’s my cue. Good luck out there tonight… I’ll be watching.

~With those parting words and a well placed wink, Kitty briskly slips past AKB and the cameraman, escaping the locker room with, well, catlike reflexes. Michael now takes notice of the AKB and the camera as well, looking annoyed.~

Mike Best: ...you’re on a short fucking leash with me, initials dude.

~The Mad Titan of Wrestling reaches down and grabs his new fancy jacket along with the giant golden gauntlet he’s built for tonight’s main event, before turning back toward the intrusive cameraman.~

AKB: Mike, just wan--

Mike Best: We’ve been over this, fuckstick. Do we make micro heroes and set up GoFundMe accounts together? Have we started ninety seven billion internet ventures that have gone nowhere? If you were fired tomorrow for possession of child pornography, would I go through a forty-eight hour period of angst and attention whoring to make it all about me?

AKB: I… uh..

Mike: NO! Because we’re NOT. FUCKING. FRIENDS. Mr. Best will do.

~AKB clears his throat, trying not to roll his eyes..~

AKB: Mr. Best... Kitty Petrova was literally just seen leaving your locker room. At this point, is it safe to say that--

Mike Best: HAAAAAAAARD PAAAAASSSSSSSSS.

~Looking annoyed, AKB can only shake his head and continue.~

AKB: Okay then. Earlier tonight, Marcus Welsh made maybe the biggest announcement of the year so far, placing the eMpire into the main event of Block Party for the OCW World Championship. Given how recently you signed with OCW, do you think it might be too early to--

~Michael grimaces, sneering at AKB and snatching the microphone out of his hands.~

Mike Best: Why do you have a job? Fuck, why do you even have a fucking head? What kind of cracker ass stupid fucking question is that? You’re gonna come in here and ask me some shit like that five minutes before I walk out there and face an OCW Hall of Famer? You’re gonna throw off my fucking mojo.

~Michael strokes the newly shaven “M” on his chin, looking away from the interviewer.~

Mike Best: No, dickhead. It’s not too early. The eMpire has accumulated upwards of forty fucking championship reigns in the history of High Octane Wrestling. I myself am an EIGHT TIME HOW WORLD CHAMPION. Has anyone around here held the OCW Championship eight times? Is it TOO EARLY… Jesus, be a professional, AKB.

~ Michael raises a fist toward AKB, who flinches out of very intelligent instinct. But Mike isn’t trying to strike him, he’s showing his HOW Hall of Fame ring to the camera.~

Mike Best: I spent five years getting into the HOW Hall of Fame. Five years of busting my ass, every single day. I didn’t take time off. I didn’t take time to heal. I slept in my car, I worked extra hours, I put in as much time behind a desk as I did inside of a ring… all to get this ring on my finger. It hasn’t left since, and it’s not leaving ever. This ring is why The Big Bifford has never been the same since he stepped into the ring with me. This ring is why The Incredible One is going to end tonight unconscious, when we drag him up to Tampa and dump his lifeless body into the HOW arena. This ring… is why I deserve to main event Block Party, and Mr. My Hall of Fame Ring Is A Two Year Community College Degree Matt MeyWHO doesn’t.

~Michael cuts a judgmental look at AKB, and then forward toward the camera. He gestures toward the big, ugly metal glove in his other hand.~

Mike Best: This golden gauntlet is called the G.O.A.T-- the Gauntlet Of A Titan-- and it’s a symbol of what is to come. What is to come tonight, what is to come next week, and what is to come at Block Party. I am running the fucking gauntlet here in OCW, one Hall of Famer at a time. Tonight, it’s The Incredible One. And then, at Block Party, it’s Paul fucking Paras himself. And I hope you’re watching tonight, MeyWHO, Mr. Lime With Envy, because after Block Party…you’re next.

~He looks down at the ring on his finger, his brow heavy. He takes a deep breath, speaking his final words very softly.~

Mike Best: ...this ring… is what I suffered for. And it’s about time OCW suffered for theirs.

~Without another word, Michael pushes past AKB and the camera, heading down to the entrance for tonight’s main event. For the second week running, AKB is left holding the microphone, looking less than amused by the co-leader of the eMpire.~

Smith: I may not like the eMpire but there is no denying their talent. Mike Best has a scary amount of focus...combine that with his talent and, well, he's going to be hard to stop.

Hood: Impossible is the word you're looking for.

Smith: The word I'm looking for does start with an I but it isn't impossible...it's INCREDIBLE! Mike Best...good luck to you, sir. You're about to face one of the best in OCW history.

Hood: If he wins will you stop bitching about how he doesn't deserve what he's getting?

Smith: I can't make that promise.

Hood: You are such a bitch.

Smith: Fans, it's main event time...this match is worthy of headlining any event in company history. This is probably the biggest match in Monday Night Massacre history...that spans 20 years. Get ready because tonight's main event is NEXT!

Main Event
The Incredible One (26-7) vs. Mike Best (1-0)

~And it’s Main Event time!! The fans are chanting “TIO! TIO!” This OCW crowd is heavily behind one of their own. It’s an incredible atmosphere by these incredible fans as they wait for the incredible one. And, it’s made even more incredible by the fact that BELVEDERE, somehow, looks more prestigious than ever. He clears his majestic throat to a HUGE ovation~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!!

~The crowd instantly BOOOOOS when they hear the opening chords to the now INFAMOUS music belonging to Mr. Best. Mike Best steps out from behind the curtain wearing a crazy looking coat (resembling your grandmother’s couch). The fans continue to boo as he halts at the top of the ramp, overlooking the audience with an arrogant smirk which dominates his bearded face. He takes his two hands…one of which seems to be covered in metal. He grabs the opening edges to each side of his coat and tugs forward, making sure the coat is perfectly secured around his upper body. He then marches down the ramp in tune to "Everybody Loves Me" by OneRepublic~

Belvedere: Introducing first, from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 225lbs…he is a member of the HOW Hall of Fame…he is one of the founding members of the eMpire…he is…Mike Best!

~More boos as Best ascends the steps and enters into the ring~

Smith: There he is…a man in the running for most arrogant wrestler on the roster.

Hood: Is that some kind of new award?

Smith: It should be.

Hood: You can’t just make up awards you know. I realize you’re a huge Mike Best fan, as am I, but he’s got to earn legit awards. Making up awards doesn’t count, Smith.

Smith: That wasn’t what I was doing!

~Best’s music dies out. The fans quit booing. They begin to chant “MIKE KILLED THE COUCH! MIKE KILLED THE COUCH!” Mike slowly eyes the fans lining the arena, taking in their cheers. He looks down at his coat. He steps forward, into the center of the ring and begins to show it off with more confidence than a sexaholic at an AA meeting. The chants turn back into boos…until…~

ARE YOU READY?!

~The crowd goes fucking NUTS! They leap out of their seats as Disturbed’s highly addictive (and aptly named) “Are You Ready” begins to play. Best scoffs at the reaction, calmly removing himself from the center of the ring and back into his corner. TIO steps out from behind the curtain. TIO looks as focused as ever tonight. He stares down the ramp and into the ring. He shakes both arms while working his shoulders back and forth – it becomes obvious how much this match means to TIO. The fans chant “TIO! TIO!” He looks out into the crowd, nods along with their chants and sprints down the ramp to a huge ovation! He slides into the ring under the bottom rope and pops to his feet. He heads Mike’s way. Mike refuses to look at TIO…instead, he chooses to clean tiny, nearly invisible particles of lint from his coat. Scruff hustles over to maintain order. He manages to talk TIO back into his corner for the second and final introduction~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…FIGHTING out of the Blue Corner!! He stands 6’2 and weighs in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Paradigm Champion, a former OCW Central Champion, a former OCW Champion…he is a member of the OCW Hall of Fame…ladies and gentlemen…he is…THE INCREDIBLE ONE!!

~HUGE pop for TIO!! Belvedere pauses for a moment, taking in the wild, white hot scene. He promptly exits the ring. TIO is on his toes, bouncing around, eager for the match to begin~

Smith: What a match! An OCW legend taking on arguably the biggest name in HOW history!

Hood: You know I’m team OCW…but, I mean, we all know Mike’s got this, right?

Smith: How is that TEAM OCW? That’s the antithesis to TEAM OCW.

Hood: I love OCW, man. But I also like to keep it real.

Smith: Well you can keep it real…real quiet!

Hood: Holy shit that was terrible.

~TIO is ready to go. He paces around like a caged animal, waiting on the bell. Mike FINALLY begins to remove his coat. The crowd boos as it becomes obvious the man is taking his sweet time. With the coat fully removed, he whistles at a nearby attendant. Some nerdy man runs over…Best shakes his head and says “Not you…YOU!” he points at a decent looking female employee. She comes over and Best calmly hands her the coat saying “Keep good care of that.” The crowd continues to boo. A “HURRY THE FUCK UP!” chant begins~

Smith: Oh come on…this is taking way too long!

Hood: Hey! Just because the man has enough money to afford all these expensive accoutrements doesn’t mean we should make fun of him. We should admire him.

Smith: Accoutrements, eh?

Hood: Yea well I heard you say it a few weeks ago, looked it up and decided to throw it into my announcing vernacular. Did I do it correctly?

Smith: Against all odds.

~With the coat removed we see a gaudy GAUNTLET around Best’s left arm. TIO tries to march Best’s way, but Scruff stops him. TIO complains to Scruff. So, Scruff walks over and tries to help Mike remove the gauntlet. Scruff’s unable to pull it off. Mike shoves Scruff away, finding his lack of strength humiliating. He calmly removes the gauntlet and, like the coat, hands it to the female on the outside. She nearly falls over due to the weight – a fact Mike ignores. TIO is like ‘FINALLY!’ Scruff moves to call for the bell, but Best stops him. MORE BOOS~

Smith: WHAT NOW?!

Hood: Hey! You wouldn’t rush an aged wine, would you? How about an aged barrel of whiskey? How about a cougar that, against the laws of nature only seems to get hotter with age…kinda like how Diane Lane used to be. WHY WOULD YOU RUSH MIKE BEST?

Smith: This is taking WAY too long.

Hood: Well then go outside and eat some of Alice’s mustard.

Smith: Maybe later.

~Finally, Best removes a replica OCW Hall of Fame ring that symbolizes his opponent, TIO. It’s fashioned to fit into his gauntlet as a trophy for yet another vanquished legend. The female attendant, struggling with both Mike’s coat and gauntlet, extends her hand. Mike shakes his head ‘no’ and snaps for the woman to step away from the ring. She struggles, walking asymmetrically, appearing as though she could topple over at any moment. That is one heavy ass gauntlet. Mike takes the ring and he shows it to TIO. TIO lunges forward…but Scruff holds him back! Mike places the ring under the bottom buckle in his corner. He finally turns and looks at TIO. Scruff goes to motion for the bell. Mike holds up his hand and bends down…he starts to check the laces on his boots. The crowd booos and chants ‘Bullshit!’~

Smith: Okay this is getting ridiculous.

Hood: Dude…he wants to make sure his laces are tied. Could you imagine what a tragedy it would be if TIO tripped over Mike’s laces?

Smith: Or if Mike tripped over his laces, you mean.

Hood: Haha oh no…no way, man. Mike is too good to trip over laces. TIO, on the other hand…

Smith: This is going to be a long match.

~Best goes to check the other boot. TIO is finally like ‘Fuck this.’ He forcibly removes Scruff from his path and charges forward, leaping through the air and crushing Best with a huge splash in the corner!!! The crowd goes wild!! Scruff shrugs and call for the bell. It rings!! The crowd lets out a feral scream that can only be described as “FINALLY!”~

Smith: Here we go! Finally underway!

Hood: That dirty, filthy, no good cheating son of a bitch!

Smith: Can you blame him? That whole elongated routine was meant to get in his head.

Hood: I’d say it worked, then.

~TIO unleashes a barrage of lefts and rights. Mike tries to cover up. TIO throws body shots. Mike tries to cover those up…TIO goes up and down, back and forth, battering the open areas. Mike continues to do his, uhh, best to cover up. He finally throws a kick out, jamming it into TIO’s shin! This staggers the OCW legend. Mike is able to grab TIO and reverse positions. Mike, unlike TIO, is more methodical in his offense throwing strategically placed kicks into TIO’s lower body~

Smith: Booo!!

Hood: You’re fucking booing?

Smith: I can’t help it!

Hood: Get a hold of yourself, man!

~TIO begins to falter. His body starts to slouch. Mike, feeling confident (no surprise there), reaches back with a huge right hand. We see his giant HOW ring shining atop his balled fist. He throws a huge right haymaker. TIO catches his arm!!! Mike looks around like “what the fuck?” He throws his left arm. TIO catches that! The fans go wild! TIO has both of Mike’s arms under control. He throws a boot into Mike’s gut!! Mike stumbles back. TIO releases Mike’s arms and jerks Mike upward via a handful of hair. He delivers a HUGE knife edged chop! Mike staggers back even further. TIO lunges forward with a massive head butt that resonates throughout the arena. The fans recoil upon hearing the sickening sound. Mike staggers into the ropes, reeling from the hard hitting offense. TIO charges ahead and clotheslines Mike over the top rope to the outside!! The fans are on their feet stomping, clapping, and chanting “TIO”~

Smith: Yes! Here we go! TIO is teaching Mike Best a lesson in how things work around here!

Hood: Relax…just a few kicks, a chop, and a head butt…NO BIG DEAL.

Smith: AND a clothesline.

Hood: Yes, yes – and a silly fucking clothesline.

~TIO grabs onto the top rope. He looks around. The crowd chants “DO IT! DO IT!” TIO bends his knees and leaps up, using the rope for leverage. He soars over the top rope and comes crashing down on top of a standing Mike Best with an incredibly executed plancha!! Both men tumbles onto the outside floor! The fans go wild!! TIO returns to his feet…he shows no ill effects from the fall…the adrenaline rushing through his body has numbed any pain he might be feeling~

Smith: What a move! What athleticism! TIO is looking extra spry this evening!

Hood: He’s wanted this match for years, Smith.

Smith: Indeed he has…I believe these two were supposed to face several years ago…2015, maybe?

Hood: Shit man, I barely know what year it is…there’s no way you can expect me to remember something like that.

~Mike struggles, trying to his feet. TIO grabs him by the hair and yanks him over near the edge of the ring. He tosses Mike head first into the steel steps. Scruff yells out ‘HEY!’ TIO tells Scruff to calm down. Mike is seated up against the steps reeling from all this offense. TIO jumps up and delivers a dropkick into Best’s face and chest!! The top of the steps go flying!! Best slouches over, onto his side. TIO lands hard…the target wasn’t high off the ground so he was unable to properly protect his fall. He reaches for his elbow and rolls around, grimacing. The fans chant his name, attempting to will the man back to his feet~

Smith: He needs to be careful…I know he’s fired up but one wrong move…one bad fall and Mike will capitalize.

Hood: Guy is way too fucking emotional…we’ve seen it throughout his career. It’s the sole reason he can’t beat Meyhu.

~TIO grabs onto the cloth hanging from the apron and uses it to aid in standing. Best is still down. TIO grabs Best by his amazingly thick head of hair. Best tries to push him off but TIO lifts a knee into Best’s face. He turns Best around and throws him with incredible aggression at the ring post. Best’s head PINGS off the ring post! He spins around and tumbles, backwards, over the bottom portion of the steps landing awkwardly on the other side. Scruff, again, is like “HEY!” TIO waves him off…Scruff shakes his head wondering what he has to do to get some respect. The fans at ringside are urging TIO on…they are saying things like “You’ve got this!” “Way to go, Ia –“ TIO pauses and shoots this fan a glare…”Err…way to go, TIO!” TIO lets the fan slide. He steps up onto the bottom portion of the steps and looks down at Best. Mike is face down, on the floor, looking to be in bad shape. TIO casually hops off the steps landing with both feet into the lower portion of Mike’s back. Mike lets out a painful yell as TIO steps off and reaches down, grabbing Best by the hair~

Smith: This is all TIO right now.

Hood: That’s great but he’d better kill what he’s wounded. Don’t play with your food, TIO.

Smith: Oh I think he’s well aware.

~TIO has best up. He tosses him back into the ring, under the bottom rope. TIO hops onto the apron and steps into the ring. Best is on all fours, trying to crawl away. TIO hustles forward and, again, grabs Best by the hair. He yanks Best to his feet, from behind. He grabs Best’s head and hooks him for what appears to be an Inverted DDT. He lifts Best up! Best struggles and breaks free, landing behind TIO. Best drops to his knees and delivers a vicious low blow from behind!!! TIO’s knees buckle…he stumbles forward, dropping to one knee. The fans BOOOO. Best takes a seat and slides back into a corner, attempting to recover from all the damage he’s absorbed. Scruff rushes in, trying to figure out what happened~

Smith: No! C’mon, Scruff!

Hood: And this is why people don’t respect Scruff.

Smith: He was out of position, he didn’t see it.

Hood: Weak Ass Reffing

~TIO tries to fight off the pain that’s crippling his lower abdomen. He stands and doubles over, hands atop his knees. Mike realizes he doesn’t have much time. He reaches up, snaring the top rope and pulls his body off the mat. He leans against the corner. TIO looks over his shoulder and sees Best recovering. He stands upright and says “fuck the pain”. TIO turns around and charges at Best, looking for another splash. Best, this time, moves out of the way!! TIO manages to stop before hitting the corner. Mike drops to the mat and schoolboys TIO up~

Kick Out!

Smith: Nice try, Mike…but it’s going to take more than that!

Hood: Professionalism out the window, ladies and gentlemen.

~TIO rolls over, getting to all fours. Mike is on his knees, he rushes to his feet. TIO lunges at Mike but Mike lifts a knee into TIO’s head. He hooks TIO around the waist and tries to lift him up for a powerbomb. TIO is fighting against Mike’s strength. Mike calls an audible and tosses TIO over with a deadlift gut wrench suplex! TIO hits hard. Mike remains on the mat for a moment, catching his breath. TIO crawls toward the ropes, using them to scramble back to his feet~

Smith: TIO was stunned but obviously not for long.

Hood: Yea but the momentum is shifting Mike’s way.

Smith: Thanks to nefarious tactics.

Hood: Oh yea, sure and like we didn’t just see TIO throw Mike head first into a fucking steel post.

~TIO reaches his feet first. Best is still subdued from the initial attack. He gets to one knee and moves ahead, forging toward TIO. TIO is ready, the throws a boot into Best’s gut, stifling Mike’s offensive attempt. TIO grabs Best by the arm and motions to whip him across the ring…Best reverses! Mike uses TIO’s left to whip him into the ropes – only he doesn’t let go! TIO’s full head of steam, combined with Mike’s unwillingness to let go creates a tremendous yank of the left shoulder joint!! TIO yells out in pain, dropping to one knee. Mike retains control of the arm. He jumps up and brings both feet down, into the mat, loudly while yanking at the arm. The crowd boos~

Smith: He’s focusing on the left arm! If you’ll remember, TIO damaged that left shoulder last week against The Shadow when he speared The Shadow into the corner.

Hood: Mike Best is a fucking genius!

Smith: TIO might be rethinking this quick turnaround. He’s got a tournament to worry about…he can’t afford a serious injury!

~Mike starts to wrench on the arm, twisting it. TIO grimaces. He powers to both feet, realizing he’s got to get free from this hold. He stomps around the ring. Mike continues to yank and tug on the arm but, to his surprise, TIO’s adrenaline is fighting through the pain. Mike, growing frustrated, yanks TIO forward, looking for a lariat. TIO ducks and hoists Mike onto his shoulders! The crowd rises with anticipation~

Smith: He’s got Best up! The heart and fight in this man…it’s…it’s in…

Hood: insane?

Smith: INCREDIBLE!

~TIO is looking for THIS DAMN INCREDIBLE. He spins Best around, attempting to maneuver Best from his shoulders into a pilediver. Best, however, takes control of his situation, swinging around, grabbing TIO’s arm and taking him down in a Fujiwara Armbar!!! The crowd is stunned!! TIO is face down on the mat with Best leaning back, yanking on TIO’s left arm as hard as he can!!! TIO yells out in pain! Scruff slides in, asking TIO if he wants to give it up. TIO yells “NO!” Best yanks back even harder…the more TIO resists, the harder Best pulls~

Smith: A Fujiwara armbar…my goodness he’s going to tear that shoulder in half!

Hood: Savage, man…savage.

Smith: Mike Best may be a despicable person but there’s no denying the obvious talent…I’m beginning to wonder how you defeat this man.

Hood: A gun, maybe. Scythe may work as well.

~TIO continues to fight but the pain is getting to him. The core structure within his left shoulder is being ripped apart. Mike has that arm at a very awkward, dangerous looking angle. TIO motions begin to slow. His sweat soaked face slowly descends, finding respite on the mat. Scruff looks in and asks “TIO?” There is no response. The fans chant “TIO! TIO!”~

Smith: Is he out?

Hood: He was never in, man.

Smith: Wake up, TIO! C’mon, you can do this!

~TIO’s eye opens, barely. It wanders. It fixes on an object. It becomes focused. TIO’s other eye opens. He’s suddenly beginning to fire up. Our POV flips, doing a 180…we get a shot of what’s caught TIO’s ire. It’s the REPLICA OCW HOF RING! It’s image has inspired TIO – it’s given him energy to fight! Best looks around like “What the hell?” TIO yells and begins to do a one armed push up with Mike on his back. The fans are chanting ‘YES! YES!’~

Smith: He’s TIOing UP!

Hood: Dude must be hurting for cash…saw that ring and thought “I need to get out of this hold, steal that ring, and pawn that son of a bitch.”

Smith: Wrong! It symbolizes the mockery Best seeks to make out of his OCW career…it’s infuriated him.

~TIO gets to his knees. He uses his right hand to grab Mike by the head and neck. He fights to his feet and hoists Mike onto his shoulders! The fans are going wild!!! Mike’s in an inverted Fireman’s carry. TIO is trying to manipulate him around so that he’s in position for This Damn Incredible. Sadly, his left shoulder will not comply. So, instead, he settles for a BURNING HAMMER! He drops Mike right on top of his head!! The OCW Arena goes crazy!! Mike is out! He’s flat on his back, left center of the ring. The fans chant “YES!” TIO is on his back, as well, clutching at his left shoulder~

Smith: Burning Hammer!!!!

Hood: Geezus, he dropped the greatest wrestler in the world right on his head!

Smith: Mike Best is great but I take umbrage with the idea that he’s the greatest in the world.

Hood: True, Cecilworth, Max, and Mario are all in the running.

~TIO suddenly sits up! It’s as though he’s rising from the dead! The fans are jumping up and down, the OCW Arena feels as though it’s shaking. TIO fights to his feet and steps through the ropes. He heads toward the most convenient corner and begins to climb~

Smith: Shooting Star Press!

Hood: Has anyone ever kicked out of this?

Smith: Not that I can recall!

~TIO, knowing his shoulder is fucked, reaches the top rope. He looks down at Best. The fans chant “DO IT!” TIO bends at the knees and is about to take off when…Mike Best rolls out of the ring. BOOOOOOO! Goes the crowd!! TIO does not let it bother him. Instead, he turns around, facing Mike Best, who is on the outside. TIO leaps off…Best turns around and is squashed via a crossbody from the top rope all the way to the floor!! The fans are rejuvenated! Their hopes renewed!! TIO rolls over, seated against the barricade, holding his left shoulder. Mike is down…his goofy ‘M’ beard covered in sweat and spit~

Smith: Mike Best is spent! I don’t think he can go much longer.

Hood: Many a woman has assumed the same thing only to be proven wrong.

Smith: Gross.

Hood: You a Dangerous Dan fan or something?

~Mike manages to roll over. He spots the female holding his gauntlet and couch themed coat. He begins to crawl her way. The woman seems a bit frightened by the image of a beaten man crawling toward her. TIO reaches over, trying to grab Mike’s feet. Mike kicks TIO away and continues to crawl. From inside the ring we hear Scruff yell out “ONE!” Mike reaches the woman and dives into her lap. She’s freaking out. He throws the coat aside and finds…THE GAUNTLET~

Smith: Oh please…get that stupid metal glove away from him!

Hood: It’s a gauntlet…and not just any gauntlet…it’s THE gauntlet.

Smith: It’s a metal glove that a grown man thinks wields power. He might as well be playing with a plastic bo-staff in his back yard calling himself Donatello.

Hood: I always took you for the Donatello type. Ultimate nerd status confirmed.

~TIO reaches his feet. Mike secures the glove and throws the shrieking woman out of his way. She tumbles to the floor. Fans are appalled. TIO stumbles toward Best who has the gauntlet in his grasp – his back shielding this fact from TIO. Scruff yells out “THREE!” TIO grabs Best by the hair…Best spins around and swings the gauntlet at TIO! TIO ducks!!! He gets Best onto his shoulders. Scruff yells “FOUR!” The fans are on their feet. Mike swings the gauntlet into TIO’s face!! It makes solid contact, but nothing that will knock the guy out. Mike is able to disembark from TIO’s shoulders. Scruff yells out “FIVE!” Mike reaches back with the gauntlet…Scruff yells “HEY! DO THAT AND YOU ARE DQ’D!” Mike looks up like “Seriously?” TIO turns around, facing Mike. He takes the gauntlet away and boots Mike in the gut. Scruff yells “SIX!” TIO tosses Mike back into the ring.~

Smith: Crisis averted! TIO managed to prevent Mike from knocking him out with that gauntlet.

Hood: He’s just jealous that Mike has a gauntlet. Trying to ruin the fun for all of us.

Smith: No, he’s trying to win a match, Hood.

~Before reentering the ring, TIO spots the gauntlet. A wicked idea crosses his mind. The fans chant “PICK IT UP!” TIO says “fuck Mike Best!” He grabs the gauntlet and ascends the steps. Scruff yells out “SEVEN!” He then proceeds to prevent TIO from entering the ring with the gauntlet. TIO shoves Scruff aside and enters. The Incredible One appears possessed with the idea of putting Mike Best away and winning this match~

Smith: Don’t do it, TIO! Don’t sink to his level! You’ve got this!

Hood: He’s a fucking thief! DQ him for thievery!

Smith: That isn’t a disqualifying offense.

Hood: Why the fuck not? You mean to tell me you can get DQ’d for poking a guy in the eye but NOT for stealing shit? Seems fucked up, man.

~TIO looks down at Mike. He slips the gauntlet onto his own arm. The fans react with shock like he’s just fucked Mike’s wife or something. It’s on TIO’s left, injured arm. He reaches down with it, grabbing Mike by the hair. He pulls Mike to his feet and wraps his gauntlet covered hand around Mike’s throat. Scruff looks concerned. He yells “TIO! Let him go! Let him go!” The fans chant “NO! NO!”~

Smith: The man has lost it, Hood. He’s lost it!

Hood: Fuck this guy, man! He tried to murder Meyhu in the chamber and now he’s attempting to do the same to Mike Best.

Smith: He’s got demons, Smith. Demons he likely locks away in a basement somewhere.

Hood: Looks like those demons might be surfacing.

~Best throws a kick into TIO’s crotch! The fans boo! Scruff doesn’t do anything…quid pro quo, I suppose. Best jumps up and drops TIO with a double knee armbreaker!!! TIO yells out in pain. Mike yanks the gauntlet from his arm and reaches back to hit him in the face with it. Scruff motions for the bell. Mike, beyond frustrated, tosses the gauntlet back into his corner. TIO pops to his feet and grabs Mike via his good, right arm looking for a Rock Bottom. Mike elbows TIO in the side of the head, breaking free. He spins around, to TIO’s left side and yanks down on his bad arm. TIO’s knees buckle. Mike runs into the ropes, he bounces off and leaps into the air for I Kneed a Hero!! TIO powers up!!! He’s got Mike on his shoulders! The fans go wild~

Smith: He’s got him! He’s got him!

Hood: Ah shit!

~His shoulder gives out! Mike drops to the mat!! TIO stumbles to one knee. Mike runs into the ropes, behind TIO, he bounces off and hits TIO in the back of the head with I Kneed a Hero!!! TIO falls face first onto the mat! Mike scrambles to roll him over and make the cover! The fans are booing like crazy! Scruff slides in with the count~

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…MIKE BEST

~Fans chant “BULLSHIT” as they continue to boo and throw trash into the ring. Mike crawls over to protect his gauntlet. TIO remains down~

Smith: Despicable!

Hood: Hey, fuck you! If TIO hadn’t been consumed with jealousy over Mike’s gauntlet he may have won. But NOOO he just had to try and use it against Mike.

Smith: Whatever…TIO fought valiantly tonight. You have to admire the man for stepping up to the plate, even with a less than functional shoulder.

Hood: Valiant people are often stupid people, Smith. Now TIO’s got to face James Raven with a botched shoulder.

Smith: He’s got two weeks to tend to the joint…hopefully that’s enough.

Hood: No way, man. You know how injuries are around here…they fucking linger. Just ask Ed.

Smith: Meanwhile, Mike Best has downed another OCW Hall of Famer…who can stop this man?

Hood: A tsunami, maybe. Like, rumor has it that the movie Armageddon had an alternate ending.

Smith: I don’t’ care.

Hood: Bruce Willis was going to fail. The asteroid was going to hit Earth. Mike Best was going to shield the hottest bitch alive…they, naturally survive because, you know – Mike Best. Then he’d fuck her a bunch of times to repopulate the Earth resulting in the best civilization in history.

Smith: Wow.

Hood: Yep but then Michael Bay got involved and, well, you know.

Smith: That is the most inane thing I’ve ever –

~The fans BOO heavily…our POV shifts to find the eMpire sauntering down to ringside. Mario is leading the way. He gets about halfway down the ramp before taking off and sliding into the ring. Max and Farthington aren’t far behind. Mike reaches underneath his corner and secures the replica TIO HOF ring. Max and Farthington start to stomp on TIO to a chorus of boos. Mario extends his hand, helping Mike to his feet~

Smith: Get these men out of there! TIO may have lost but he laid it all on the line…he’s exhausted and possibly injured!

Hood: Play a man’s game you pay a man’s price, Smith.

~TIO remains down. The fans are booing…they are clamoring for a SAVIOR. Best is on his feet. Mario steps up toward TIO and yanks him off the canvas. Max and Farthington step back…giving Mario his opportunity. Mario looks at TIO and frowns. He spits in TIO’s face! The crowd continues to boo. We see Mike take the TIO replica ring and place it into his gauntlet!! He rears back like his being imbued with power that does not exist. The crowd chants “BULLSHIT!” and “YOU’RE NOT THANOS!”~

Smith: This is ridiculous! Can we get security!

Hood: You think they want to fight off the mad titan? He’d turn them into dust!

Smith: You’re almost as intolerable as Mike Best.

~Best, with the freshly bejeweled gauntlet over his left hand focuses on TIO. Mario hooks TIO in a Full Nelson, exposing his helpless body to an armed Mike Best. Max is in the background explaining the gauntlet to Cecilworth. The fans suddenly POP!~

Smith: Look!

Hood: Finally, the fans are coming to their senses and cheering the eMpire.

Smith: No, Hood! Look who’s running down to the ring!

~IT’S THE MARVEL…MATT ‘TBA’ MEYHU! He sprints down to the ring with a LIME colored NCAA tournament bracket that is framed on a plaque, for some reason. Meyhu dives into the ring under the bottom rope. He swings the bracket like crazy. The members of the eMpire scatter, leaping through the ropes to safety. Meyhu, upon clearing the ring, checks on his former Aptitude stablemate. The fans are going wild! “YES! YES!”~

Smith: He’s out here defending his former stablemate…his OCW rival!

Hood: Shit just got real, Smith! Meyhu was in the same ring as the eMpire!

Smith: He’s the king that sits atop the OCW throne, Hood. His kingdom is being disturbed.

Hood: Isn’t Paras the king?

Smith: Err…uhm…we have TWO KINGS!

~Max and Farthington stand on the left side of the ring. TIO is on the right side. Mike is at the back. All four members look at each other as if to say “It’s just one guy.” They move to re-enter~

Smith: I think the initial shock has worn off.

Hood: They’ve still got the numbers advantage.

~Meyhu sees Mike stepping up onto the apron. He lunges at Mike, swinging his bracket plaque. It hits the ropes and shatters. Best hops off the apron just in time. The other three members begin to converge onto the ring~

Smith: Meyhu is running out of room and time!

Hood: His bracket is busted, Smith!

Smith: Well, yea, I think that was official last weekend.

~Max and Cecilworth slide in. Mario isn’t far behind. Meyhu grabs TIO and hurries out of the ring, carrying his former partner to safety. Best slides into the ring…all four members of the eMpire stand in the ring, glaring out at Meyhu. TIO’s arm is draped over his former partner’s shoulder~

Smith: Good for Meyhu!

Hood: Are they back together?

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. I think Meyhu was just tired of seeing the eMpire run roughshod over everyone…plus, you know a kindred spirit has to remain between those two…after everything they’ve experienced.

Hood: The Golden Rule?

Smith: Well hopefully not that! And on that note…I think it’s time we wish our audience a good night. Be sure to tune into Refueled which airs immediately following our broadcast right here on HOTv!

Hood: Yea man…you think TIO is going to make it? He’s in bad shape.

Smith: He’s a man of his word, Hood. I’m sure – wait a minute, I’m being told something is going on backstage

~We cut backstage. Meyhu is seen exiting The Knife Man’s medical room~

The Knife Man: Mr. Meyhu!

~Meyhu pauses, briefly~

The Knife Man: You sure you don’t want to stay with your friend?

Matt Meyhu: He’s not my friend. I’m out of here, for real this time.

~Meyhu storms away~

Smith: Meyhu must have got word that the eMpire was taking advantage of this company and he decided to do something about it.

Hood: Yea I think he wanted to do something – anything to get in their way. So, as a result, he saved TIO.

Smith: I guess this means Meyhu is sticking around?

Hood: I don’t think it guarantees that, Smith.

Smith: Zybala’s return to GM status may have swayed him.

The Knife Man: Interesting man, that Marvel. You have to respect him, though. A true legend in this…WHAT THE

~Max Kael and CMF rush into The Knife Man’s room! They throw The Knife Man into a wall. Mario appears. He stands over TIO, who is lying atop an examination table. TIO’s eyes flutter open. They widen. He starts to move, but Mario punches him in the face. Max and CMF join in…all three men around pummeling TIO with punches and forearms. Mike Best enters, sporting his gaudy gauntlet~

Smith: Leave him alone! Haven’t you guys done enough?

Mike Best: For the next few hours he’s HOW property. Let’s make sure he doesn’t miss the big event due to some weak injury.

~Max grabs TIO and tosses him over his shoulder. The eMpire steps out of The Knife Man’s office. OCW security members rush into view, trying to stop them. CMF and Mario take care of them, quickly. Upon seeing how effective and vicious their disposal of that initial wave was…the rest of incoming security backs off. The eMpire marches toward the exit carrying TIO with them~

Smith: They are abducting TIO!

Hood: Calm the fuck down, Smith. He’s booked later tonight at Refueled in Tampa…for HOW. He’s facing Bobbinette Carey…they are simply offering him a free ride. Nice guys.

Smith: This is despicable…somebody needs to stop these guys!

Hood: Good luck…they’ve already defeated PerZag, The Dravers, Bifford, AND TIO…I think it’s safe to say they are unstoppable.

Smith: NOTHING is unstoppable, Hood…not even the eMpire. Well fans…that’s truly it for tonight…keep TIO in your thoughts this evening…

~The feed comes to a close as we get a final, closing image~