OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, April 15th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~So much for a weekend of sobriety! Yesterday’s activities hit this morning like a firm kick in the dick. Why the fuck do we do this to ourselves? NEVER ON A SUNDAY. Oh well…it is, what it is. Returning from work we feel fatigued. There’s a laziness embedded within our core…a laziness that seeks to manifest itself into hour upon hour of youtube footage. Who was that Max Headroom guy? What was on that mysterious hard drive? What happened to Brian Shaffer? Ah, shit…ENOUGH. Let’s focus. Time to head on over to HOTv for some Monday Night Massacre action! This orange soda looks very orange and tastes delightful. These white cheese Cheetos are faboosh. Who would have ever though Cheetos wouldn’t be the orangest part of a meal? That OCW logo flares before cutting to the Massacre logo. It’s time!! We cut to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre!! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always is Hood! Tonight we venture into the second round of the Block Party Tournament.
Hood: Can’t wait! The Professor returns! Mario continues his march toward glory which also means Andrea gets shut the fuck up. And TLS resumes his war against women.
Smith: Interesting way to look at tonight’s lineup. Folks, Zybala is BACK IN CHARGE and I’ve got a feeling he might have some things to say about the way Welsh ran this place in his absence.
Hood: The less Zybala the better!
Smith: Well he’s back…and it’ll be his first night as GM with the eMpire running amuck.
Hood: He should be on his knees thanking Welsh!
Smith: We have thirteen matches slated for this evening!
Hood: Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue.
Smith: It’s never a bad time to stop doing drugs, kids. Anyway…we’ve got a jam packed show so let’s get to it!
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Singles Match
Brenda Devlin (0-0) vs. John E Depth (1-3)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…The following match is scheduled for one fall!
Fans: ONE FALL!!
Belvedere: Coming to the ring first…
~”Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang hits. The crowd boos when they see Mr. Depth appear from backstage. He’s all oiled up and ready for action! He’s wearing a shirt that says “All Aboard the Slam Buss!” Depth getting some free advertising in. He rushes down the ramp and rolls into the ring. He pops to his feet and mimes like he’s ‘filming’ something with his hands~
Belvedere: From Hollywood, California…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 230lbs…John E Depth!
~The fans boo as Depth soaks it all in. He feels these people are below him. He makes lude gestures towards some of the ladies in the crowd, which causes the fans go boo louder~
Smith: How does this guy merit an entrance with theme music?
Hood: Because he's the only jobber with a win! And he is the director of cinema perfection!
Smith: We'll see how "perfect" he'll be against his opponent...
Belvedere: And his opponent......
~The lights dim and pulses in sync with the throbbing synth of Gary Numan's "My Name is Ruin". Brenda Devlin strides out to the top of the ramp and cuts a striking figure. Garbed in gold nothing much left for the imagination ring gear, she strides down to the ring hoping to avoid all human contact with the crowd. It's more like a disgusted sight-seer in a zoo of hideous attractions, except for animals as attractions, it's people here to watch Brenda wrestle. Gross. She slips into the ring gingerly, giving her golden hooded cloak to some guy who can't see now she steps into her corner and waits confidently~
Belvedere: Hailing from San Andreas, California...... :looks closer at his card: "on an Earth from another dimension?" This is Brenda Devlin!
~The fans boo as Brenda has smug look of disgust and entitlement. She is better than this. Scruff puts on a pair of surgical rubber gloves and proceeds to check Depth. He then goes to check Devlin who sneers at the ref. Scruff, not wanting to deal with an angry female, shrugs and calls for the bell. The two competitors walk to the middle of the ring and Depth, showing a speed we've never seen from him before, quickly scoops up Devlin and drops her to the mat with a body slam!!! There is an audible hush throughout the crowd, which is replaced with loud cheers!~
Smith: Oh my God! Did Depth get off at offensive maneuver??
Hood: That's why he is considered The Jobber Elite! The Prince of All Jobbers!
~Devlin stands up more angry than stunned! How dare this peasant touch her. She rushes at Depth with a clothesline, but Depth ducks and gets behind her. He wraps his arms around her, but not the waist. No, Depth's hands are firmly placed on Devlin's breasts! He grins before shouting "BOOBY-PLEX!" The fans boo as Depth tried to lift Devlin, but she quickly breaks the hold and punches Depth dead in the face! Depth staggers back into the corner and Devlin continues her attack, punching and kicking away at the porn director, screaming obscenities at him the entire time.~
Hood: That luck bastard!
Smith: What do you mean lucky? He is getting the crud kicked out of him. Deservedly so if you ask me.
Hood: True. But he got a good handful. He's living the dream.
Smith: We have different opinions of what "The Dream" is.
Hood: That's because unlike you, I have male genitals.
~Devlin is still beating down on Depth, who is now sitting in the corner, cowering and trying to cover up. Scruff starts his five count, but Devlin isn't showing any signs of caring. When Scruff reaches five, Devlin is still stomping Depth like he owes her money. Scruff grabs her around the waist and drags her off of Depth. Devlin screams at Scruff to get the fuck off of her. Scruff backs away. He'd rather have Depth get murderized than himself. Devlin backs up a little bit more before charging at Depth and boots him in the face! Depth is out on his ass, only sitting up because of the turnbuckles propping him up in a sitting position. Brenda then grabs Depth by the hair and drags him to his feet. She then jumps up and drops Depth with a cutter! Depth is out!~
Smith: There's The Facial!
Hood: So you HAVE watched his movies!
Smith:.....Nooooo! That's just what Brenda calls that move.
Hood: Whatever you say buddy. I knew there was a little bit of a degeneratr in you.
~Devlin hopes up on the middle turnbuckle and waits. Depth slowly starts to stir and when he gets on his hands and knees, Brenda leaps from the turnbuckle and drives her foot to stomp down on the back of Depth's skull with The Makeover! Depth's face is driven into the mat with a sickening thud! The crowd releases a collective "ooooooo" out of sympathy. That had to hurt. Devlin isn't done at all. She drags Depth to the center of the ring and drops an elbow across his back! She then wraps his arm in her legs and wraps her arms around Depth's head, slowly, methodically. Devlin then wrenches his head back, really torquing away with the crossface! Scruff checks Depth who is out like a light and calls for the bell!~
Belvedere: Here is your winner via knockout, BRENDA DEVLIN!
Smith: What a beat down! Brenda hit Depth with a Super Makeover from the second rope and followed it up with what she calls "The Brenda Devlin School of Hard Knocks." An impressive debut for Ms. Devlin.
Hood: And more importantly, we discovered that you're a porn addict!
~After celebrating for a moment, Brenda Devlin rolls out of the ring and heads up the ramp, leaving John E Depth in the ring by himself~
Smith: And Brenda Devlin walks out of here the winner in a very one-sided affair.
Hood: That's an understatement.
~The lights flicker out, leaving the arena in darkness. A deep, scratchy voice sounds through the speakers~
Jager Bomber: I will be avenged... You will join my cause...
Smith: Oh lord... I thought maybe this guy disappeared after no appearance last week.
Hood: Apparently not.
~The lights come on, and the Jager Bomber has appeared in the ring behind John E Depth. A hood covers his head and body, covering his face. A full bottle of Jagermeister is in his hand, open and ready for bombing~
Smith: Not again! This is ridiculous!
~John E Depth slowly turns around. He sees the Jager Bomber, possibly close enought or recognize the man under the hood. His eyes go wide, but before he can say anything the Jager Bomber grabs Depth by the back of the head. He thrusts the bottle of Jagermeister into Depth's mouth, forcing him to chug the liquor~
Hood: What the hell is this?!
Smith: The Jager Bomber seems to have taken a new approach!
~John E Depth continues to chug the Jagermeister, as the Jager Bomber holds the bottle in place. After a few uncomfortable moments, Depth finishes the entire bottle~
Smith: There's no way that man is sober.
Hood: Or alive.
~The Jager Bomber lets go, and Depth falls to the ground and passes out. The lights suddenly flicker out again~
Jager Bomber: You are mine.
~The lights come back on. The Jager Bomber and John E Depth have disappeared from ringside~
Smith: The Jagerbomber strikes again! Dear God!
Hood: With fresh tactics! I hope he doesn't attack Mack O'Connor like that... Mack would probably enjoy it.
Smith: I can't disagree with you there.
[News Reporter]: “Jason, how are you feeling tonight?”
~Jason was in good spirits as Marcus stood next to him.~
[Jason]: “I…..am doing just fine, i’m doing great actually. Last week, we all saw me get arrested once again after I had made a fool of myself in public. I wanted to take this time to apologize to Trav Morgan and Evin Empire. I made a complete fool of myself and I will learn to do better. I spent a lot of time thinking when I was in jail and I know what I need to do in order to make myself better.”
~Jason looks over at Marcus and Jason couldn’t help but smile and even blush a little.~
[Jason]: “Marcus Welsh is a great friend, I spent the past few days opening up to him. I have had a drinking problem in the past and after my behavior last week, I realized that I could use some help. Marcus has really had my back since I came to OCW. I started drinking again and stressing over the state of my career here in wrestling. Marcus has given me great advice and I have decided, that I will be taking a break from being here in OCW. I am on my way to rehab. I will be spending 30 days in rehab for my alcohol abuse, PLUS I will be working with a trainer who will be training me in the ring to make sure that I stay sharp and focus as a wrestler in the ring. Marcus is a super cool guy, I can’t imagine OCW without him……...I really can’t.”
[News Reporter]: “So you are going to be spending 30 days in rehab and getting some great wrestling training. Is your focus basically coming back to OCW with a much better mindset and more clear head?”
[Jason]: “My career and success is very important to me. I am ready to make the proper changes to succeed here in OCW. This 30 days of rehab and focusing on my training in the ring is the best thing for me right now.”
~Jason looks over at Marcus Welsh and developed a minor smitten look. He smiles at him while biting his lower lip.~
[Jason]: “Marcus is continuing to let me stay at his place, he’s been very good with being such a great supporter of me. I mean…....He’s had me bent over with keeping my head focused on what really matters in life and telling me to keep pushing forward with everything that I need to succeed. Overall, I apologize for my bad behavior, I hope that I can fix the mistakes that I have made and truly make a name for myself here in OCW once I come back from rehab.”
News Reporter: Marcus, is this true? Have you really had Jason bent over, forced to maintain focus?
Marcus: There’s no need to get into graphic detail over Jason’s preparation for his minute-by-minute improvement. We’re all imperfect. We all have flaws. Sure, we may be the best we’ve ever been in our current incarnation but that does not mean we are perfect. Far from it. We can always, as people, continue to improve. Strive to be better. It’s an idea I’ve been teaching Jason. As great as Jason is, and trust me, he is great - Jason can be better. It is my goal to make sure Jason never stops improving as long as he’s in OCW.
~Marcus pats Jason on the back before gripping and massaging his left shoulder. We cut away~
Smith: While their relationship is…unique, it is nice to see Marcus looking out for Jason’s best interest.
Hood: I don’t even know what to say about these interactions. But Marcus is right…keep working on improving, that’s all a person can do.
Smith: Indeed…well, speaking of improving, a man in desperate need of a win is up next. And I’m not talking about Jack Puffer. Robert Morbidus is in action, next!
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Singles Match
Robert Morbidus (5-6) vs. Jack Puffer (0-2)
~Jack Puffer is in the ring. He’s looking around like a bumbling detective. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring from Aurora, Illinois…Jack Puffer!
~Puffer places his hand above his eyes and looks around…we can’t tell if he’s trying to be a detective or a pirate. Either way it generates very little heat~
Belvedere: And his opponent…
~'The Animal' by Disturbed begins to play as the arena lights go blood red with smoke filling the ringside area - almost like fog and through the curtain steps Morbidus' manager and legal counsel, Mr. Judas. He stands there for a few seconds with an evil smile before motioning backwards. A few seconds go by and then Robert Morbidus steps through the curtain with a deadly serious look on his face. He barges past Judas and storms down to the ring. Morbidus then goes to a corner and eyes the ramp with eyes like a hawk. Judas then goes to Morbidus' corner on the outside providing last minute advice and encouragement~
Belvedere: From The Other Side of Darkness…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 275lbs…‘The True Living Vampire' Robert Morbidus!!!
Smith: Morbidus looking to get back on the winning track.
Hood: Well I’d say Puffer is a good start.
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: It’s been a tough month for Morbidus…he’s looked great, unfortunately he’s faced elite level competition.
Hood: Welcome to OCW...you can be good, hell, you can be great and still come out a fucking loser.
~Morbidus walks over to Puffer and drills him with several throat punches. Puffer gasps for air, falling to his knees. Morbidus grabs Puffer and hoists him onto his shoulders. He performs several airplane spins before dropping Puffer with an F-5!!! Morbidus goes for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…“THE TRUE LIVING VAMPIRE” ROBERT MORBIDUS!!!!!
Smith: Whew, that was quick.
Hood: It had to be.
Smith: Indeed. Morbidus with a much needed win as he looks to get back on track since returning to OCW!
~Do you remember how we weren’t backstage in the eMpire locker room a moment ago? Well now we are, so take that and smoke it! We are spending this joyous moment, a moment that you would be paying thousands of dollars for if it didn’t come free on HoTV, with The eMpire’s Money and Megastar, Cecilworth M. Farthington. He is standing next to a very large gold statue of himself as ace OCW interview vehicle, Who’Re stands by~
Who’Re: I am happy to announce that joining me at this time is a man who has eluded the OCW interview team for quite a few week now, a man who “The Mad Titan” Mike Best has declared to be the money behind The eMpire, Cecilworth Farthington.
~A look happens upon Cecilworth’s face that I would closely describe as the look that would be produced if the guy who was mugging your grandmother also decided he was going to rip a big wet one right into her face~
Farthington: Cecilworth… M!... Farthington.
~Who’Re swallows her pride to correct herself~
Who’Re: I’m here with Cecilworth M! Farthington.
Farthington: I’m delighted to be here Ha’Ree.
Who’Re: Who’Re.
Farthington: Ha’Ree.
Who’Re: Who’Re!
Farthington: Yes. Exactly what I was saying.
~Who’Re continues on, not entirely convinced that she has managed to correct CMF on exactly the correct pronunciation of her name~
Who’Re: In a few minutes time, you will be up against perhaps one of the most fearsome looking men to have graced an OCW ring, Osidius Rex. Do you have any last minute thoughts on what is sure to be quite the battle?
Farthington: Do I have any thoughts for Darth Sidious Rex and his terrifying wife, Mrs. Rex? Only that my sole aim this week, live on MassRayper, the hit HOT v television show is that I shall destroy any hope of him getting me in his terrifying man van. I cannot stand a man van, ma’am!
~Who’Re is rather puzzled about this whole man van comment but she has clearly not being stalking CMF in his day to day life to fill out that missing piece~
Who’Re: Moving right along, Marcus Welsh with his last gasps of power last week made a monumental announcement that Paul Paras’ OCW Championship will be on the line live on Pay Per View as The eMpire faces off against Paras, Vincent Langston and Silver Cyanide. The implication from Marcus’ announcement is that you would not be part of The eMpire contingent at Block Party...
~Cecilworth chuckles to himself in a very ARROGANT fashion as a SINISTER smile happens up upon his face
Farthington: All I will say is that my very expensive team of lawyers have assured me that the best Welsh, Marcus Welsh has outlined a very clear situation that means me, all around good boy and fancy lad, Cecilworth M. Farthington, OCW Megastar, will also have a clear place in the Process of Elimination match. I tell you what Whooo Ear, I look forward to eliminating the corpse of Silver Cyanide lickety split! I look forward to myself and my two closest friends working together to help special Make A Wish adult and plumbing man, Mario Mario to get the World Championship he so richly deserves.
Who’Re: Are you implying that your eMpire brother, Mario Maurako is an Italian plumber?
Farthington: Are you implying he isn’t?
~Who’Re, knowing that she is not getting paid nearly enough to deal with this, swiftly moves on to her next question~
Who’Re: Are you not at all concern that Mr. Zybala is back in charge as of this evening?
Farthington: I don’t even know what a Zybala is and I don’t care for it. You are telling me this Sam Balla is in charge of this here company now?
Who’Re: Well, Marcus Welsh’s complete authority has always been temporary while the Block Party tournament was going on… now Mr. Zybala is out, he’s taking the reins of power back.
~In complete ignorance of the interview that he is currently participating in, Cecilworth whips out his mobular telephonication device and begins to furiously smash at the keys, making what appears to be a very important phone call.~
Farthington: Yo, it’s me, C-Money! THE MEGASTAR! Yeah, so like, I totes need you to look into something for me…
~This is the last we get of the whole conversation as Cecilworth walks away from the limited vision of the camera, yelling that he has to make a very important phone call and that all the jerks and losers in the room should just about bugger off. This will lead to Massacre going elsewhere because a camera pointed at a wall makes for very uncompelling television in my book.~
Smith: Folks we apologize for that elongated wall shot.
Hood: To be fair, it's a pretty sexy fucking wall.
Smith: I've never seen attraction in walls.
Hood: Xenophobe?
Smith: I don't think so, Hood. Cecilworth -
Hood: M!
Smith: Farthington, the most unique member of the eMpire will make his singles debut here later tonight. But first, we get a second look at Sterling Silver!
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Singles Match
Sterling Silver (1-0) vs. Blake Anderson (1-0)
~With a few SQUASH matches out of the way, it’s time for what we hope might be more legitimate competition. Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The sweet sultry music of "Pain" begins to play as a nearby ringside camera cuts to the front row. Blake Anderson is seen sitting wearing a Black hooded zip-up jacket over his street clothes. Leaning forward, he places his hands on the guardrail in front of him and stands to his feet. As the crowd cheers and boos around him, inside the ring, Belvedere starts to speak~
Belvedere: "Weighing in at Two hundred and Twenty pounds (220 lbs.), he is the sadistic madman from the hills of The Sanitarium...this is BLAKE ANDERSON"!!
~Blake pushes an arena staff security out of his chair and uses the chair as a ladder and climbs over the guardrail. At ringside, Blake slowly takes a few steps to the ring and slides under the ring rope and turns to face the bottom turnbuckle on his hands and knees. He wipes his forehead with the bottom turnbuckle before leaning backwards and is sitting in a squatted position. As he stands up slowly, Blake starts to remove his leather jacket and drapes it across the top rope. Turning around, he face Belvedere who's standing in the middle of the ring and leans backwards on the top turnbuckle, waiting for the bell to sound for his match~
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. 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: From Neptune Beach, Florida…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 220lbs…Sterling Silver!!!
Smith: Sterling Silver looked very impressive last week in his debut.
Hood: Yea man the guy’s got the ability to do big things here.
Smith: Indeed.
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Blake Anderson has had trouble finding his footing in OCW. If he were to defeat Silver, that would be a big win for Mr. Anderson.
Hood: Yea man he joined, won a match and then hasn’t done much since.
Smith: The roster is so big and so talented that it’s easy to get lost these days.
Hood: Yep, people have to bust their ass and make a fucking impression
~Blake Anderson, looking for a bounce back win, appears very anxious. He charges at Silver. He leaps into the air! Silver catches him across his shoulders, drops him with a Go To Sleep and then sends him to the mat with a Superkick!!! The crowd pops due to the sudden, hard hitting nature of the sequence! Silver covers Anderson as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…STERLING SILVER!!!!!
Smith: Well, that was fast.
Hood: No shit.
Smith: Sterling Silver has the look of a star, Hood.
Hood: Yea but he’ll never be as good as Glittery Gold.
Smith: I hardly…
Hood: But at least he can say he’ll always be better than Bitchin’ Bronze.
Smith: Please! Enough with the jokes! Sterling Silver…a rising star here in OCW with a dominant win as he moves to 2-0.
~The scene cuts to the Ninja Rebellion Locker room as we find both Melinda Rhodes and Molly Hatchet in full ring gear, ready to go at a moment's notice. The two pulled out flashlights and in Melinda's case, a bright red baseball bat~
Rebel: Alright Molly, we're going to see if Tio's here, somewhere. The authorities are looking for him out there, but just in case he's being held here, we're going to search every nook, cranny, and hiding space we can!
Molly: Kidnappin' in wrestlin' is so fawkin' stupid, but aye. We'll do it, you consider him a friend.
Rebel: We'll start in the service tunnels and work our way up. I've told a guy at Gorilla position to text me when it's 10 minutes till match time. We'll go out, have our match, and then get back on the search.
~Molly nodded.~
Molly: Sounds like a plan and besides, I've never seen the underbelly of this place before so it should be a nice bit of discoverae' yeah.
~The two promptly headed out of the locker room door and down the hall, going on a search for Tio.~
Smith: You have to admire the goal of those two women.
Hood: I think they're just trying to wedge their way into a main eventer's spotlight.
Smith: I disagree...they are legitimately concerned over the well being of one of OCW's best.
Hood: Well they should probably start by looking for him in Tampa at the Yuengling Center.
Smith: Wouldn't be a bad place...anyway, speaking of High Octane...Cecilworth -
Hood: M!
Smith: Farthington's singles debut is up next!
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Singles Match
Cecilworth M! Farthington (1-0) vs. Osidius Rex (1-1)
~OCW fans are still fresh as the night is relatively young. A handful of singles matches already in the bag with a few more to go. Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~Osidius Rex and his wife Ursula comes to the ring slowly as the beginning of Sanctioned Annihilation plays and the fans are silent as they make their way down the aisle. Osidius lowers the ropes for Ursula and they come to the middle of the ring~
Belvedere: From Sparta! Standing 6’8 and weighing in at 320lbs…Osidius Rex!
Smith: Rex made a huge impression back at Social Justice…since then he’s been stuck.
Hood: Yea, he’s had a few opportunities but hasn’t been able to capitalize. He’s got a big one tonight, though.
Smith: Indeed
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~Billy Ocean’s delightful voice beckons forth the man known as Cecilworth Farthington, attired with the finest of towels draped across his neck. "The Money" behind The eMpire bounces out jubilantly from the back to the stage with a smile a mile wide. He stretches out his arms and spins around in sheer joy at the clear non-existent adulation being doled out by the crowd while being careful to ensure not a single inch of his beautiful skin is caressed by any of their pauper hand~
~Convinced he is the most adored man in OCW history, Cecilworth leaps up on the ring apron and looks out into a very unimpressed audience, blowing out kisses and giving a regal wave to his subjects, soaking in the nothingness provided back to him. He leaps into the ring and rushes over to the referee to give him a polite handshake, handing a signed photograph of himself over in the process. He repeats this process to a very confused ring announcer, uncertain why this event keeps repeating itself~
Belvedere: Standing six feet tall and weighing in at 85 Kilograms…or, if you prefer, 13.5 stone…Cecilworth M! Farthington!!!
Smith: And the newest member of the eMpire is out here for his singles debut.
Hood: It’s been a whirlwind few weeks for Cecilworth, Smith. First he joins the eMpire…then he learns how to use an ATM…now he gets to face Osidius Rex!
Smith: Well, all of that is true, I suppose.
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Farthington looked good in his tag match last week. He teamed with Max Kael and together they defeated The Dravers.
Hood: Tonight he’s going to shine, Smith. Shine like a star in the sky!
Smith: Maybe…but Rex is a mountain of a man. Farthington is going to have to use his mind if he wants to come out victorious here tonight.
~Ursula exits the ring. CMF eyes her vigilantly. He motions toward Scruff, who approaches. He asks Scruff to keep an eye out for a ‘Man Van’. Scruff has no reaction~
Smith: What is this goof talking about?
Hood: Do you think he means OCW’s famous SLAM BUSS?
Smith: No…he’s talking about a comment Ursula made a few weeks back while discussing her husband’s match. It was, apparently, a misstep in speech.
Hood: Well she should learn to talk like an adult and not some blithering ret –
Smith: Watch it!
~CMF is aghast at Scruff’s indifference toward the MAN VAN. So much so that he backs up into his corner and tries to call a time out. Scruff informs CMF that there is no timeouts. CMF argues that there should be time outs. Rex stands in his corner, watching this foolishness take place. He looks down at Ursula. She rolls her eyes and points at CMF. Rex nods and takes off as fast as he can. CMF’s eyes widen. Scruff sees CMF’s saucer sized eyes and turns around. His eyes widen. He ducks out of the way. CMF does the same. Rex runs right into the corner with a huge thud, front first!!! He stumbles back, holding his chest in pain. CMF, on the outside is appalled at what nearly happened. He carefully removes his beautiful scarf and hands it to Belvedere~
Smith: Cecilworth Farthington’s obsession with this MAN VAN nearly cost him the match.
Hood: Oh let’s not be ridiculous. For starters, it’s M!...don’t forget the M! And, well…I forget where I was going with this…but…oh yea! You act like some kind of corner splash is going to be the end of Farthington? Shows your lack of intelligence.
Smith: Osidius Rex is a big man.
Hood: Yea and so is Durango. CMF is used to dealing with big, dumb idiots.
~”Hold onto that! It’s very important!” CMF demands of Belvedere. The 24/7 composed OCW ring announcer complies and holds onto the scarf like he would one of OCW’s prestigious belts. CMF hears a loud “ONE!” He looks up and sees Scruff administering a count. Rex is upright, rubbing his irritated chest. CMF’s brow furrows at the counting and, well, probably more so the shouting~
Smith: I don’t think Cecilworth likes being yelled at.
Hood: Well no shit, man. He’s Cecilworth M! Farthington! A king amongst peasants! The only people who should speak to him, let alone YELL at him, are members of the royal family. Maybe former President Obama. Oh and Mike Best along with Max Kael. Probably Maurako, too.
Smith: The list keeps growing.
Hood: It ends at Maurako! Oh, shit, I forgot Lee Best…you can probably throw him in there, as well. Oh and Welsh, we can’t forget Welsh. But definitely NOT Zybala.
~CMF slides into the ring and gives Scruff an arrogant push. Scruff is surprised, the count only reached one and a half. He hadn’t really done anything to draw the ire of the scarf carrying member of the eMpire. CMF starts to have words with OCW’s veteran official before Rex charges in. CMF, proving to be an in ring savant of sorts, ducks! Rex runs into the ropes, front first…he stumbles backward. CMF jumps up, leveling the height, and drills Rex in the back of the head with Malice in Wonderland (Elbow Smash)!!! Rex staggers around, shaking his massive head. Urusla hops on the apron, yelling. CMF’s eyes dart back and forth. He grabs Scruff, “WATCH OUT FOR THE MAN VAN!”~
Smith: FORGET ABOUT THE MAN VAN
Hood: He can’t, Smith! What if there really IS a Man Van and it abducts him…you’ll feel like a real jerk, won’t you?
Smith: No, I won’t because a man van doesn’t exist!
Hood: We already have a Slam Buss…why is a Man Van so hard to conceive? Are you THAT homophobic? Men need vehicles where they can be sexually molested too, you know.
~Rex refocuses. Ursula yells “GET HIM!” Rex charges at CMF. CMF hears the heavy footed steps and turns around, delivering a vicious kitchen sink knee strike into Rex’s gut!! He falls to both knees, clutching at his stomach. He places a hand on the mat as he doubles over, while kneeling. The pain looks to be excruciating. CMF points at Ursula and yells “NO MAN VAN!” Ursula is nonplussed, looking at CMF as though he may have a legit disability. However, judging by what he’s done to Rex thus far, she realizes he’s very dangerous. So, she hops off the apron, keeping her distance~
Smith: Farthington might be goofier than a pet –
Hood: Clown?
Smith: Uh, sure. You know many people with pet clowns?
Hood: Only goofy ass people
Smith: Well, Farthington may be goofy but he’s immensely talented.
~Rex gets to his feet. His face is puce with an amalgamation of frustration and anger. We’ll call it FURY. He yells “ARRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!” and turns around, charging CMF’s way. CMF turns around. Rex throws a huge lariat…CMF jumps up, snatches Rex’s arm and takes him down with a cross-arm breaker (Article 50)!!! Rex yells out in pain. Scruff slides in, asking the big man if he wants to give up. Rex taps out furiously!!! Scruff signals for the bell, which immediately rings. The fans start to boo~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…CECILWORTH M! FARTHINGTON!!!!!
Smith: Wow…he submitted Osidius Rex!
Hood: Guy would so not handle a blood eagle with honor. He’d scream louder than King Aelle
Smith: I refuse to watch Vikings
Hood: Why? It’s a great fucking show.
Smith: They massacred my ancestors.
Hood: I think it’s time you moved on, pal.
~CMF retains the hold, enjoying the power it wields via pain running through Rex’s body. Ursula hops onto the apron. CMF sees her and thinks “MAN VAN” He instantly releases the hold and pops to his feet, wary of the man van. He exits the ring. Ursula enters, checking on Osidius. Belvedere extends CMF’s scarf. CMF reaches up and takes the scarf, throwing it around his neck. He raises his head high and marches around the ring and up the ramp. The scarf does an elegant dance along some unexpected breeze. The fans boo and chant “FAKE ASS M! FAKE ASS M!” Farthington couldn’t care less as he exits the ringside area~
Smith: He’s a unique one, to be sure but…despite his strange behavior he demolished the larger, stronger, arguably meaner Osidius Rex.
Hood: Dude put on a fucking show.
Smith: Indeed he did…in his own Farthington fashion.
~Dressed in street clothes, Max Ironside looks even more unassuming and harmless than he does in a pair of wrestling trunks. The brim of an old and faded NY Yankees cap shades his eyes as he pauses in the hallway, looking down at a sheaf of papers clutched in his good hand. If it weren’t for the beard, he could have passed for some random teen, only hanging out backstage because it was ‘take your kid to work day’ for the tech crew. Sighing, he pushes his glasses back into place, squares his shoulders, and walks on to the the GM’s office. He’s hoping to find the door closed because he’s already rehearsed this in his head for hours, even roleplaying with his girlfriend to make sure he cut to the chase after that customary knock on the closed door. Now that it’s open enough for him to see inside, to see the hand of someone sitting behind that desk and the fingers tapping out a tune that he completely chokes. Like an absolute spaz, he doesn’t know whether to knock or just assume an open door policy and waltz right in so he does both. He knocks and then awkwardly bumps against the door on his way in, sending it crashing into the wall. He blushes, stammering as he tries to keep from dropping the pages in his hand~
Max Ironside: Mr. Zybala… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to barge right in like a herd of horny elephants but I wanted to let you know...
~He stops talking abruptly, breathless from the rush of words and his brain stalling out again at the look on the GM’s face. Zybala wears a look of confusion, at first, before smiling~
Mike Zybala: Oh so you watched last night’s Animal Planet documentary as well! Great show, that hour flew by. I tell you what, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of those horny male elephants. They remind me of…
~Zybala goes on about horny elephants for way too long before hesitating and recalling a moment when this interaction WASN’T about horny elephants. His aged, CTE brain struggles to remember WHAT this was about so he does what most elderly people do in this situation~
Mike Zybala: What was it you wanted to see me about again?
Max Ironside: Oh. Right. I’m not sure if you saw the campaign I launched on social media after last week’s disaster in the Block Party tournament but...
~Ironside grins~
Max Ironside: It went a little viral.
~He drops the stack of paper on the GM’s desk with a thump~
Max Ironside: Twenty-thousand signatures! There was even one from Zimbabwe! I didn’t even know they had cable TV there let alone Internet and access to the HOWtv streaming services!
~Zybala scratches his chin and leans forward, eyeing some of the signatures. He quickly realizes 20,000 is alot...like, ALOT. He reaches over to his keyboard and begins to hit CTRL + F. Nothing happens. He hits it harder and harder but, nothing~
Zybala: Never was much for computers. Control F is how you search for a name, right?
~Max nods~
Zybala: Or keywords, doesn’t really matter I just need to be sure that most of these aren’t relatives.
~Max looks confused for a few seconds before he realizes what he’s actually being asked~
Max Ironside: Oh. I just printed it out because I didn’t think you wanted to waste time looking it over on a computer. I… I emailed you a link to it the other day, actually. You and Mr. Welsh, both.
~Zybala realizes his error. He isn’t embarrassed - nothing embarrasses this guy. He sighs and runs the numbers in his head, all 20,000 of them~
Zybala: Right, right, not on the computer. Gotcha. I’m afraid I missed the email. Nothing against you, I rarely check my inbox. It’s crazy. I get like 1200 emails a day. But hey, you seem like a trustworthy guy and you did almost beat Vargas. So I’m going to assume all these signatures are legit.
Max Ironside: They are. I mean, I didn’t even sign it myself because I thought that would be a conflict of interest and I didn’t want to give anyone a reason to say I’m trying to cheat my way back in after being eliminated. I just… I feel like I have to reach for that brass ring one more time since there seems to a chance to change my future and all.
Zybala: I like your spunk...err, attitude, kid. Tell you what, Marcus might flip his lid but who cares, there’s nothing he can do about it. I’m the GM once again and I think your story has the potential to be a great one. I’ll take this under consideration. I’m making an announcement tonight regarding the two empty spots in the tournament and, well, I don’t want to get your hopes up but you just might be selected.
~The look on Max’s face is shocked for a second but he tries to hide it as he nods briskly~
Max Ironside: Well… that’s awesome. I mean, that you’re taking the initiative to fix the tournament and all that. Great leadership, sir. And I suppose I should get out of your hair. Let you get back to doing the important stuff.
~He backs towards the door, smiling nervously~
Max Ironside: Thanks for hearing me out. And for being really great about it. I appreciate it. I really do.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Max has an argument, Hood. He put on a show against Vargas a few weeks back.
Hood: Sure, let’s put him back into the ring with Vargas and watch him get murdered…LIVE ON HOTV
Smith: Keep underestimating Max, Hood. Keep it up!
Hood: Oh, I will.
Smith: I have word that we’ll receive an update on the two empty tournament spots later tonight. However, next up is tag team action! Former tag champions The Dravers are set to face the #1 Contenders – Team ATARI!
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Tag Team Match
Team ATARI (2-0) vs. The Dravers Boys (2-1)
~Everyone in the crowd is seen high fiving for some reason. We can sit here and theorize WHY they are all high fiving…but why don’t we just go with the obvious. These fans are craving some TAG TEAM ACTION!! Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The Boys are Back by the Dropkick Murphys starts up and the twins emerge on stage with friendly smirks on faces. They then wander down the ramp, with Jonathan slightly ahead of Nathan. Nathan sings along to the theme. The boys also slap the hands of the closest fans. Upon reaching the ring apron the twins simultaneously leap over the top rope and climb the nearest turnbuckles and taunt the crowd in a friendly manner whilst the crowd cheer on~
Belvedere: From Denver, Colorado…at a total combined weight of 400lbs…they are former OCW Tag Team Champions…The Dravers Boys!!
Smith: The Dravers back in action after a controversial loss to the eMpire one week ago!
Hood: Yea man they’ve been to the top of the OCW tag team mountain. A place Team ATARI hopes to reach in two weeks.
Smith: Indeed.
Belvedere: And their opponents…
~The 2001: A Space Odyssey begins with a spotlight on the entrance....When the brass section starts in, smoke rolls in filling the stage.....At the 34 second mark of the song..."2600" Emerges from the back and stands with his hands on his hips and gives the crowd a nod and looks down at the ring....ten seconds later, at the 44 second mark of the song...."7800" emerges from the and stands next to "2600" with his hands on his hips, and he nods at the crowd and looks down at the ring. Just before the one minute mark, Team A.T.A.R.I. look at one another, nod and start to make their way down to the ring slapping hands with anyone who dares to hold their hand~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 398lbs…they are the #1 Contenders to the OCW Tag Team Championship…Team A.T.A.R.I.!!!
Smith: We haven’t seen Team ATARI in action since Social Justice!
Hood: I think management wanted to keep them off TV…or at least, out of the ring until their match with Vargas and Grenier.
Smith: Well Zybala is back in charge and that idea seems to have been dismissed.
Hood: Fucking Zybala
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: This should be fun! Two exciting teams that the fans can really get behind!
Hood: Is this what a Disney movie feels like? I’ve never seen one.
Smith: Yea, I don’t believe that.
~2600 will begin things for Team ATARI. Nathan, as always, gets things started for The Dravers Boys. 2600 eyes Nathan, suspiciously. Is he Yamauchi scum or merely a guy with pink hair from Denver? Before that question can be answered, Nathan reaches in for a lock up! 2600 responds in kind. The two jockey for position, neither giving an inch. Nathan finally gains the upper hand as he starts to bully 2600 against the ropes. He whips 2600 off the ropes. 2600 sprints across the ring, bouncing off the ropes. Nathan turns around…2600 slides between Nathan’s legs. Nathan turns around and eats a dropkick from 2600!! Nathan hits the mat hard. The fans go wild~
Smith: Tremendous quickness and agility shown by 2600! Team ATARI may be small but they use that lack of size to their advantage.
Hood: Go ahead and mention fucking Ant-Man. You always do, for some reason.
Smith: I’m just saying! Never count out the size of someone’s heart.
Hood: Do these guys even have hearts? Aren’t they aliens? What are they?
Smith: They are determined in ring competitors!
~Nathan rushes to his feet. He charges at a standing 2600, showing a lack of maturity. 2600 takes him down with an armdrag and locks in an armbar. Nathan winces, instantly frustrated over his mistake. Nathan fights to his feet. 2600 maintains the armbar. Nathan performs a backflip, spins around and takes hold of 2600’s arm, wrenching it as tight as he can. 2600 flips over, landing on his back. Nathan drops to his knees, placing one knee into the side of 2600’s neck while continuing to apply the pressure~
Smith: Great reversal by Nathan!
Hood: Fucking Dravers are athletic, I’ll give them that. Now, if we could do something about their hair.
Smith: They are expressing themselves!
Hood: Yea and their opponents express their opinions on the Dravers self-expression by beating the fuck out of them.
~2600 is pretty well trapped. 7800 extends his hand – a hopeless act in reality. But nobody ever claimed that 7800 lived in reality – our reality, anyway. Nathan continues to pin 2600 to the mat. The fans begin to chant for 2600 to get to his feet. These fans aren’t anti-Dravers but they don’t want to be labeled as Yamauchi Scum…so they are toeing that fine line. Nathan looks around, a bit perturbed that the Dravers don’t have 100% of the crowd behind them. He looks at Jonathan, confused. Jonathan yells at Nathan to remain focused. During Nathan’s mental meandering, 2600 reaches up, pulls him over and pins him in a small package~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Whoa! That was close!
Hood: Never take your eye off your opponent…especially when your opponent might be an alien…or time traveler…or, both?
Smith: I wouldn’t know.
~Both men pop back to their feet. 2600 fires up and takes Nathan down with a clothesline!! Nathan pops back up. 2600 hits the ropes, bounces off and takes Nathan down with a flying forearm!! Nathan struggles back to his feet. 2600 hits the ropes a third time…Nathan leap frogs 2600. 2600 stops and leaps up, looking for a neckbreaker. Nathan holds on…he manages to get 2600 near vertical…2600 transitions over, hooking Nathan’s head for a DDT. He tries to bring Nathan down but, again, Nathan shows great core strength in remaining standing…he walks over to the ropes and throws 2600 up into the air…2600 comes down, gut first across the top rope!! He teeters up and down across the top rope in obvious pain. Nathan heads over and tags in Jonathan~
Smith: Wild sequence there…2600 had Nathan reeling but Nathan utilized his size advantage to prevent from succumbing to 2600’s offense.
Hood: I kind of like the Dravers as the ‘bad guys’.
Smith: They aren’t the bad guys!
Hood: Aren’t they Yamasaki scum?
Smith: It’s Yamauchi!
~Nathan grabs 2600 while he’s teetering on the ropes. He hoists him up for a suplex…he falls back and Jonathan catches 2600 on the way down with a lungblower!!! Nathan exits the ring. Jonathan goes for the pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: 2600 kicks out! He needs to make a tag to 7800 as quickly as possible.
Hood: Silly! Silly!
Smith: It’s Dilly! Dilly!
Hood: Nah man, it’s fucking silly.
~Jonathan responds by returning, quickly to his feet. He stomps on 2600, keeping him down. 7800 yells ‘DILLY DILLY!’ from his team’s corner. The crowd gets behind 7800’s battle cry, urging 2600 to fight back. Jonathan, like Nathan, isn’t used to this type of response but, unlike Nathan, maintains his focus. He pulls 2600 up, to a seated position and hooks him for a suplex. He deadlifts 2600 off the mat, up into the air and drops him with a brainbuster!! 2600 hits hard! Jonathan covers him for the pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: 2600 hanging in there but he desperately needs to tag 7800 into this match!
Hood: Did you know 2600 times three is 7800?
Smith: Way to keep everyone informed, Hood.
~Jonathan returns to his feet. He yanks 2600 in a very aggressive manner, perhaps showing some frustration. He shoves 2600 into a corner and delivers a few uppercuts into 2600’s midsection. He snares 2600’s arm, looking for a hip toss. 2600 flips over, landing on his feet! He delivers a dropkick to Jonathan’s legs, knocking him to his knees. He pops back to his feet and smacks Jonathan across the head with an enziguri!!! Jonathan falls over!! The crowd goes wild!! 7800 yells “DILLY DILLY!” and starts to hop around, his arm extended~
Smith: 2600 fighting back! He needs to make the tag!
Hood: Dravers are in trouble, Smith. That damn red headed fucker got in there and blew it!
Smith: His name is Jonathan!
~2600 crawls toward 7800…the fans are on their feet, clamoring for 2600 to make the tag. Nathan yells at Jonathan to wake up! Jonathan looks over and sees 2600 making the slow crawl toward 7800. He begins to move in an effort to prevent 2600 from making the tag. 2600 is getting closer and closer. 7800 has his arm extended as far as it’ll go~
Smith: C’mon 2600! You got this!
Hood: Smith pulling against the Dravers…never thought I’d see the day!
Smith: I’m not pulling against anyone!
~2600 is just about to reach 7800 when he comes to a stop!! He looks over his shoulder and spots Jonathan gripping his left foot!! He’s unable to reach 7800 with Jonathan holding on. So, 2600 stands, kicks Jonathan’s hand away and hits him with a spinning heel kick!!! Jonathan collapses to the mat!! The crowd goes wild!! 7800 is a few feet away! 2600 turns around and locks eyes with his partner~
Smith: And now he’s free to make the tag! Team ATARI is about to take control!
Hood: It’s tough to beat a team of aliens, Smith. Especially time traveling aliens!
Smith: They aren’t time traveling aliens…I don’t think.
~2600 crawls and leaps forward to make the tag!! But 7800 isn’t there!! 2600 finds and empty corner. He looks through the ropes and sees Chad Vargas and Bob Grenier attacking 7800!! The crowd begins to boo!! 7800 yells out ‘Dilly! Dilly!’ as he tries to fight them off. But the bigger duo of Vargas and Grenier start to beat him down~
Smith: What the…get them out of here!
Hood: The tag champs showing up tonight and reminding the division who runs this shit!
Smith: They are ruining this match!
~2600 gets to his feet, realizing what’s taking place. He grabs the top rope, looking for a plancha onto the hullabaloo going on outside the ring. Jonathan lunges forward with a SUPERKICK into the back of 2600’s head!! 2600 stumbles forward into his team’s corner. Jonathan rushes over and tags Nathan~
Smith: Dang it!
Hood: Dravers are selling out…OR buying in
~Nathan hurries in. 2600 is leaning into the turnbuckle. He turns around and eats two SUPERKICKS from Nathan and Jonathan (Seeing Double)!!! 2600 goes down. Nathan hops on top of 2600 for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE DRAVERS BOYS!!!!!
Smith: Huge win for the Dravers!
Hood: Does this make them the #1 Contenders?
Smith: Ninja Rebellion and the eMpire might have something to say about that…however, you have to think they are in the discussion!
Hood: Vargas and Grenier still doing work on that dill pickle guy
~Vargas has 7800 set up for THE STROKE. Grenier has a chair. Nathan and Jonathan are in the ring. They see what’s about to go down. They run for the ropes and leap over, both performing somersault planchas onto Grenier and Vargas!! They take the tag champions down…and 7800 in the process!!! The crowd goes wild! Nathan and Jonathan leap to their feet and high five as the fans cheer them on~
Smith: The Dravers just took out the tag team champions!
Hood: Back stabbing sons of bitches!
Smith: Singular…they are brothers.
Hood: Fuck off
Smith: The Dravers have made a statement tonight! They are firmly entrenched within the OCW tag team division!
~At the entrance to the backstage area, two security officers guard the door. Eddie Johnson, aka JAM G, aka the hero OCW never wanted, walks up to the door with a gym bag. The two officers look at each other, then at him.~
Officer 1: Is your name on the list?
Eddie: It should be. I was invited back.
Officer 2: That surprises me.
Eddie: Can you just check? Eddie Johnson is the name.
~The Officers sigh and glance over the list~
Officer 1: Yeah, its definitely not on here.
Eddie: I swear, they called me and everything. Can you check if its under "JAM G"?
~The Officers giggle, then Officer 2 notices something~
Officer 2: Oh... There it is. Jam G. Scribbled in at the bottom.
Officer 1: Looks like it was written in crayon.
Eddie: But it is on the list, right?
~The Officers look at each other again. They roll their eyes, but they let Eddie through~
Officer 1: Go on.
Eddie: Yes!
~Eddie walks in, ecstatic to be out of his trailer and back in the arena~
Hood: Who on earth would invite Jam G back?
Smith: No idea, but I'm sure we'll find out soon enough.
~Bester’s little Honda CVCC pulls into a parking lot of a small rough looking warehouse. There is several cars in the parking lot inside the haphazard chain link fence. Bester parks the car and kills the engine. Even with the windows up on the car we can hear the muffled music~
~Aubrey looks at Bester with a puzzled look on her face. Bester unhooks his seat belt and lets out the clutch while checking that the car is in gear~
“What is this place Best?” Aubrey asks as she unhooks her seat belt.
“Just….just a place that I come to from time to time to listen to some music and dance.” Bester says as he looks at Aubrey.
“I would have never picked you as the rave type.”
~Bester smirks and opens the door and climbs out of the car. He quickly rushes around the front of his car and opens the door for Aubrey being the gentlemen that he is. Aubrey climbs out of Bester’s little pedal jumper of a car and that is when you can hear the music a little better. It is electronic music, not so much rave music, but in the chill and move ambient music type~
~A couple of minutes later Bester and Aubrey have made their way inside the club where it is all black lights and neon colors and the club is packed with kids and kids who never grew up, jumping and dancing to the music as the DJ is just putting on one hell of a light and sound show. Aubrey pauses to take it all in, scanning the room. She catches Bester out of the corner of her eye starting to bob his head in time to the beat. This makes her smile and chuckle a little. She watches Bester close his eyes and soak in the vibe of the music, then he tears off his jacket revealing his HeMan Underoo tee and he takes Aubrey by the hand~
“COME ON MISS BAXTER!” Bester shouts over the music and then takes off into the mass pile of bodies on the dance floor, pulling Aubrey by the hand in with him. They both quickly vanish into the mob…..
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Say what you want about Bester...and there's alot that can be said, but he's enjoying the company of a beautiful woman.
Hood: Women love projects, Smith. They don't get any more project-y than that fucking guy.
Smith: Well I'm not romance expert but you could be on to something. Anyway, speaking of ON TO STUFF...let's not so smoothly transition to our next match! More tag team action is headed your way as The Ninja Rebellion and The Pretty Committee do battle!
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Tag Team Match
The Ninja Rebellion (1-0) vs. The Pretty Committee (0-1)
~The night has been going along fairly smoothly. Some impressive performances, mostly one sided…however with tag team action on tap, that means we’re going to get (hopefully) more competitive action. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~Baby I'm worth it by Fifth Harmony hits as the fans drown out the song with loud boos, and catcalls. As a lone spotlight and red carpet appear to be rolling down from the entrance ramp as the paparazzi appears taking pictures. As out from the back steps Veronica Taylor and Bianca Davis pose smugly for the camera. As they keep posing the flashbulbs go off. After they pose they make their way down to the ring taunting the fans as they strut like they are on a runway~
Belvedere: From a place far better than Key West, Flordia. Comes the most fashionable, enchanting, bewitching, stunning, classy, and beautiful women to enter this or any other arena. Please welcome Wrestling Prettiest Tag Team Veronica Taylor, and Bianca Davis they are the First Class, The IT Girls of OCW. They are Wrestling Prettiest Tag Team The Pretty Committee!
~The voice over the pa just makes the boos grow louder, as they yell at the referee to lower the ropes for them. Nothing having their hands on their hips as they soon enter the ring one after the other. As they strut around the ring posing arrogantly in the center of the ring, as the fans greet the poses with loud boos. As they then blow kisses toward them waving as they lean in there corner leaning in a nonchalantly manner checking on their nails and makeup~
Smith: Bianca and Veronica back in action…they need a win to get some momentum going.
Hood: Yea, it’s been awhile since OCW’s resident Mean Girls have tasted in ring success.
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....~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 277lbs…Molly Hatchet and Melinda Rhodes…The Ninja Rebellion!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring and the bell sounds~
Smith: Molly and Melinda were absolutely dominant in their debut last week. This week I assume they’ll face a little more resistance.
Hood: Some might say they were TOO dominant, Smith.
Smith: It’s always best to keep things in perspective, Hood.
~Vero and Bianca point and laugh at Molly. They call her “Ginger” and claim that she is devoid of SOUL. Molly frowns…not in depressed fashion, but with anger. Melinda sees the disgruntled look on Molly’s face and backs away. Molly charges forward. She leaps into the air and crushes both members of the Pretty Committee with a HUGE splash!! Vero drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring. Bianca remains in the ring, staggered in the corner. Molly hops up, places both feet in Bianca’s stomach and tosses her into the center of the ring with a Monkey Flip. Molly hops on top of Bianca and goes wild throwing punches into Bianca’s face~
Smith: Molly has been unleashed!
Hood: Look at that Ginger go!
Smith: Hey, easy now
Hood: We can’t say fucking ginger now? WEAK ASS PEOPLE
~Bianca is reeling! Molly returns to her feet, fired up! The crowd chants “GINGER NINJA!” which, for some reason, doesn’t TRIGGER the pale faced superstar. Molly goes back after Bianca, returning focus. She bends down to grab Bianca but Bianca claws at Molly’s face!! Molly stumbles back. Bianca rises and jumps on top of Molly, taking her down with a Thesz Press! She scratches at Molly’s face and pulls at Molly’s hair. The fans boo. Vero returns to the apron, working her shoulder back and forth wearing a nasty expression~
Smith: The Pretty Committee getting back into this.
Hood: The ginger’s irrational rage blinded her! Much like the sun blinds gingers on a daily basis.
Smith: Enough with the ‘G’ word!
Hood: Do you know the ginger bread man?
Smith: Why sure he lives down on drury lane
Hood: That’s the muffin man, you idiot
~Bianca drags Molly into her team’s corner and tags Vero into the match. Vero steps in and lifts her leg, jamming her foot into Molly’s throat. Molly chokes on what we presume to be a beautiful foot. Not like we have a foot fetish or anything. Don’t judge. Vero removes her foot and poses for the crowd. They shower her with boos. Bianca poses on the apron…MORE BOOS~
Smith: Ugh, these loathsome women
Hood: You’ve always hated beautiful people, Smith.
Smith: I’ve got nothing wrong with beauty…it’s how a person handles beauty.
Hood: It’s every beautiful person’s right to show off their beauty whenever possible. Kind of like Mack showing off his ability to down half a bottle of whiskey while being able to maintain a near impeccable driving record.
Smith: Does Mack drive? He always seems to be riding around with Treat.
Hood: Oh, he drives. I hear stories of him being stuck in traffic quite often.
~Vero snares Molly with a front face lock and drags her into the center of the ring. She lifts Molly up and drops her with a brainbuster!! Molly’s ginger head bounces off the mat. Vero sits up and smiles. She gets to her feet and does another pose. MORE BOOS. Melinda is standing on the apron, growing angrier by the second. This is NOT how women should be presenting themselves within this sport~
Smith: The Pretty Committee is everything Melinda despises about women in wrestling.
Hood: Why? Because they don’t have to cover half their body in tattoos to stand out?
Smith: RUDE
~Vero plants her foot into Molly’s ginger throat, choking all the ginger air from her ginger lungs. Ginger. Vero grabs Molly by the hair and whips her into her team’s corner. Molly hits hard. Bianca reaches over and begins to choke Molly with the tag rope. Scruff starts to head over there but Vero stops Scruff by spinning him around and rubbing his beard. Scruff is confused~
Smith: Scruff is in uncharted territory!
Hood: The last time a woman touched Scruff’s face was during Vietnam!
Smith: Scruff was in Vietnam?
Hood: Not really…but it’s what he told women to get hate laid.
Smith: Hate laid?
Hood: Yep, when all those antiwar hippy women would fuck a veteran.
~Molly’s body slouches. Bianca has done a number on her. Vero, seeing Molly prone for defeat, throws Scruff aside saying “Get away from me you filthy bum!” She charges forward and leaps into the air. Molly ducks!!! Vero slams into the corner!! Bianca goes flying off the apron, into the barricade!!! The fans go wild! Molly clutches her throat and begins coughing. Melinda’s arm is extended…Molly crawls over and makes the tag! The OCW Arena goes wild~
Smith: And here comes Melinda Rhodes!
Hood: That thing I said about tattoos…I take it back!
Smith: Too late…what’s said is said. Don’t cry if she gives you a shot in the dark.
~Rhodes steps into the ring. Vero stumbles around. Rhodes charges forward and takes Vero down with a HUGE kick!! Vero hits the mat. Rhodes walks over and grabs Molly around the waist. The fans seem surprised~
Smith: We’re about to see something special!
Hood: Melinda turning on Molly already? Told ya that woman is crazy!
~Melinda throws Molly over her head for a German Suplex…Molly, however, rotates twice for a Double Rotation Moonsault landing right on top of Vero!!! Molly rolls out of the ring, Rhodes hops on top of Vero for the pin. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE NINJA REBELLION!!!!!
Smith: They did it! Molly and Melinda with another impressive victory!
Hood: Fucking Ginger Rebellion
Smith: It’s NINJA Rebellion
Hood: Whatever
Smith: Molly and Melinda continue to impress as they, like the Dravers, make a strong argument as contenders for the OCW Tag Team Titles.
~We cut backstage as the eMpire’s locker room door comes into focus. The door opens as we proceed inside where a large, fancy desk has been set up in the far corner, two small red and black Maxopotamian flags sit on either corner of the desk while a large silver plaque reads “PRIME MINISTER KAEL” on the front of it. Seated behind the chair in a large black leather is none other then the Prime Minister of Maxopotamia, the Lord of Kaelsalvania, the Warrant Officer of WORTHY and Terminator of Twins, Maximillian Kael~
~His single blue eye locks on the camera as the corners of his mouth twitch and pull into an uncomfortable smile, crooked yellowed teeth visible between the dry, chapped lips~
Max Kael: Friends, it is I, Maximillian Kael, your Warrant Officer of WORTHY and as you can see I’ve been making myself at home here in Key West. Ever since arriving in this ZeroCW I have been working hard to ensure that my good friend, Mario Maurako, achieves the goals that he has set out for himself. Why? Because that is what friends do, they make sure that the people they care about are able to live out their dreams, embrace their joy and get a small modicum of happiness before the mortal coil shuffles itself from their ragged bones.
~The smile slips away as Max dones a rather distinct frown, his blue eye narrowing as his brow furrowed giving him an expression that was as sour as his breath. ~
Max Kael: Unfortunately this has cost me some degree of my own joy. You see, since joining this place I have been accosted by the mediocrity of this place. Now Marcus Welsh does what he can but given how pathetic and worthless the so called talent there is only so much he can do. For a federation that had a guy whose gimmick was literally screaming WORTHY as loudly as he could there isn’t a lot of Worth to be found here. It’s sad. It’s such a waste.
~Leaning back in his chair Max steepled his fingers and licked his chapped licks slowly, almost in some strange, pervers manner~
Max Kael: After I finish here I will travel to the ring with my brother, Michael Best, and much like last week, I will leave two more of men broken in the ring and add another win to the eMpire’s undefeated column. Another victory over an UNWORTHY set of opponents who don’t even deserve to stand in the same ring with me or Michael. This will be another lesson that none of you will be watching. Another beating that all of you will ignore. Another show of absolute dominance that you will all pretend didn’t happen.
~His lips twisted into a cruel sneer as he spoke, his blue eye flaring with an intense flare of hatred. His fingers fold together, gripping each other tightly as the soft sound of the knuckles popping echoes in the empty locker room.~
Max Kael: Hayley Robinson, you tried to call me out this week knowing that I would not be capable of facing you despite you daring to answer my call twice only to avoid the booking or having another match. The difference between you and I is that I pay attention to the booking sheets and am capable of understanding how a schedule works. I understand you didn’t finish high school and that words are hard so let me make this as simple for you as possible. You’re nobody worth knowing, everyone laughs at you and what you say and when they do it, it’s not that they are laughing with you, they’re laughing at you. When you speak the English language is the real victim. You’re like an abandoned dog at a pound I like to come look at to remind myself why I endorse kill shelters. I actually hope Bifford pins you in the ring and is too lazy to stand up so you suffocate under one of his massive flesh tags. Finally, go fuck yourself with that vegetable Ariel Shadows, and congratulate her for me, she’s never been more entertaining.
~The smile returns to his face as he slowly stands up from his desk, his rancid maw dropping open as he slowly turns his head to the side~
Max Kael: Too everyone else know that as the Warrant Officer of WORTHY I am issuing a new warrant for the eMpire. Every champion who stands against us, every one of you who has failed to bring any WORTH to their title will find themselves on the wrong side of a Brow Beating, at the mercy of I Kneed a Hero, suffering as a result of Article 50 or locked up by La Omertà. We are here now, your betters. Your new Rulers. Your eMpire.
~Max looks down at his wrist where there is clearly no watch before he looks back up at the camera, blinking or winking in the case of the one eyed man~
Max Kael: Time to go set another example, friends. Ta-ta and remember my name is Prime Minister Maximillian Kael, First of my Name, Long May I Maim.
~With that he slips around his desk and pushes his way past the camera as we cut back to ringside.~
Smith: Strong words from Max Kael. Scary thing is...he can back them up.
Hood: Yea, I know Mike gets much of the focus, and for good reason, but Max Kael could be OCW Champion two weeks from tonight.
Smith: You're right about that, Hood. Especially given the lame booking of our former GM, Welsh.
Hood: Don't call Cyanide lame, man. That's just rude.
Smith: I was speaking about the lop sided booking but, whatever. Anyway, The eMpire has been nothing short of dominant since stepping foot into OCW. Cecilworth -
Hood: M!
Smith: sigh, Farthington won his singles debut earlier tonight. And now, up next, we get our first look at Mike Best and Max Kael as a team...they take on The Lockwood Party. That match is up next!
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Tag Team Match
The eMpire (1-0) vs. The Lockwood Party (0-1)
~The fans are already booing. They know the eMpire is scheduled to compete and they are letting everyone watching at home how they feel about these guys. Belvedere clears his throat which doesn’t do much to drown out the boos~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~"PUNCH IN THE FACE" BY FRENZAL RHOMB hits! The crowd doesn’t really WANT to cheer the Lockwoods, but given their opponents…they really don’t have a choice. So a strong ovation is showered at Tim and Jack Lockwood. The brothers don’t seem to mind…or care, or both. They walk down the ramp wearing shirts that say “It’s a Mad, Mad World.” They slide into the ring, ready for action~
Belvedere: From The East Bay, California…at a total combined weight of 420lbs…The Lockwood Party!!!
Smith: Tim and Jack…the Lockwood Party
Hood: Love their shirts!
Smith: Yes, those seem to be poking fun at the sudden departure of Pas De Deus.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~That fucking song…THAT FUCKING SONG starts to play! The crowd BOOOOOOS. Max Kael and his one eye emerges. Right behind Max is Mike Best. He’s wearing his Couch Coat. He’s got his Gauntlet. And he’s got that ‘M’ shaved into his goatee. The fans continue to boo. Mike and Max don’t really seem to mind – in fact, I’d say they are enjoying the negative response. They make their way down to the ring~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 461lbs…they are the #1 Contenders to the OCW Championship…Max Kael and Mike Best…The eMpire!!!
Smith: Ugh, loathsome individuals.
Hood: Blah blah blah…these guys have done nothing but win their way to the top, Smith. Get over yourself! Last week we saw Cecilworth M! Farthington team with Max to defeat the Brothers Dravers. This week it’s Mike’s turn…teaming with Max against…well, two more brothers!
Smith: People say blood is thicker than water, Hood. Could the eMpire be disproving an idiom that spans generations?
Hood: Depends on what kind of water we are talking about….you seen third world water, Smith?
~Max enters in the ring, keeping his eye on the Lockwoods. Belvedere promptly exits. Mike walks up the steps but remains on the apron. He seems content on letting Max begin the match. Max leans in his team’s corner, glaring in a very unsettling fashion at the Lockwoods. The Lockwoods, to their credit, are unmoved. These two have most likely seen it all. Tim looks at Jack and says, “Let me start. I’ll punch his fucking eye out.” Jack laughs and obliges, stepping through the ropes. Mike has his back to the ring. He’s slowly removing his coat. The fans try and mock him for it but once it becomes clear they can’t…they start to boo~
Smith: Ugh, that coat!
Hood: He makes it look good, Smith. The man’s got class, style, and sophistication!
Smith: He’s got enough arrogance for the entire roster, I’ll say that.
~Mike removes his jacket and holds it out. A man walks up. Mike shakes his head and points for the female from last week. She lowers her head and says “damnit.” She gets up and heads Mike’s way. He drops the coat on top of her head, covering her face. He then holds up his gauntlet, which now features TWO OCW HOF rings. The fans boo and say “YOU’RE NO TITAN!” Best closes his eyes, soaking in the chant. Max looks over, anxious for the match to start. He’s been around Mike long enough to understand these types of situations. Mike slowly removes the gauntlet. The female manages to get the coat into her arms, regaining her vision. Mike drops the gauntlet into her arms. She nearly falls over. The fans boo. Mike turns around as the woman waddles over to the time keeper. Max looks at Mike as if to ask if he’s ready. Mike nods. Max rises up and heads for the center of the ring. Tim balls up both fists and moves to meet Max. The bell rings~
Smith: It’s about time!
Hood: Hey, you can’t rush greatness, Smith.
Smith: I think we need to find that poor woman a new position.
Hood: Why? She’s rubbing elbows with greatness. She could get a movie deal out of this type of exposure, Smith!
~Kael keeps his one eye sharply focused on Tim. Tim, the grungiest (if that’s even possible) of the Lockwoods, holds up his fists. He’s a fighter…like a poor man’s Mack O’Connor. Max’s hands are at his side. He approaches Tim in curious fashion. Tim hops around and throws a right jab, catching Max across his protruding chin. Kael’s head jerks to the right, his long hair covering his one eyed façade. Tim hops around, feeling pretty good. Max slowly turns his head back around and slides the hair from his face to reveal a hideous smile. Tim turns around and is stunned by what he sees~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: These fucking Lockwoods
Smith: I think Max…enjoyed that?
Hood: I couldn’t say, Smith. Maybe he’s still drunk from that adventure Mike took him on.
Smith: Do you think that pink collared shirt is still intact?
Hood: Nope…burned to ash, floating in the ether never to be seen again.
~Max lunges forward with both arms delivering the Mongolian chop that OCW fans are quickly recognizing as one of his signature moves. Tim’s shoulders seize upward as though he’s been shocked. He leans into the ropes. Max dives forward with a head butt, using his steel reinforced ocular bone and eye patch. It’s a real brow beater of a move, folks. Tim’s legs go limp. His body leans into Max’s. Max looks down at him with disdain. He lifts his right arm up and delivers a crushing elbow to the back of Tim’s head. Tim drops to the mat like a sack of fat stolen from the local hospital to make pink, black market soap~
Smith: Well, Tim might be dead.
Hood: At least he’ll get to see his sister again.
Smith: Hey! I’m no Lockwood fan but I find that comment way beyond the pale!
Hood: Dude I know spring has only just began to sprung and my tan isn’t what it should be but that’s no excuse to call me pale on live tv!
~Kael appears ready to finish the pathetic Lockwood brother. A cry sounds out, “TAG ME, BROTHER!” Max turns and sees a very anxious Mike Best, arm extended~
Smith: Oh please…he just wants the credit!
Hood: Dude, he’s got to stay limber! He’s got a huge match in two weeks.
Smith: I’m sick of that man! His stupid coat, his stupid facial hair…and that portrait…my gosh what a hideous painting.
Hood: I’m sorry he never replied to your Facebook friend request, Smith.
~Max looks down at Tim. He’s not going anywhere. So, he walks over and tags in the anxious Mike Best. Mike hops into the ring, over the top rope, looking pretty limber and excited. Max pitches a double team maneuver on Tim. But Mike seems confident that he’s got this. So, Max steps through the ropes and gives Mike, the high maintenance member of the eMpire, his spotlight. Mike yanks Tim up and throws him, viciously into the Lockwood corner. Jack looks up, surprised. He is Jack’s confusion. Mike nods his head and says, “Tag him.” Jack is Jack’s surprise. Mike grows annoyed at Jack’s hesitation. So, he walks over, grabs Jack’s arm and slaps it against Tim’s unconscious head. Scruff motions that a tag has been made! Jack is now forced to enter~
Smith: I don’t think Jack wanted in the ring.
Hood: He may just be really high.
Smith: Yea, I guess there is that possibility.
~Mike, completely empty on patience, reaches out and grabs Jack by the arm, pulling him in and knocking him to the mat with a short arm clothesline!! Jack hits hard. Mike stomps over and grabs Tim. He tosses Tim over the top rope to the outside, getting his unconscious body out of the ring~
Smith: Mike removing the unconscious Lockwood.
Hood: So he’s not FULL ON Rapist level heel.
Smith: I have no comment.
~Jack rolls over, moaning with pain. Mike hates to hear a man moaning. So, he drops a knee into Jack’s face to shut him up. He pops back to his feet and looks over at Max. Should they continue to beat up on these brothers? I mean, is it really worth it? They have no Hall of Fame rings. They’ve never held a championship. It’s middle of the card hogwash~
Smith: This match is over…the only question is whether or not Mike and Max feel like extending the violence.
Hood: Yea I mean you could keep going and look like badasses. Then again, if you kept going people might ask why it took so long to defeat The Lockwood Party.
Smith: Yea, I guess there’s some truth to that. Plus you always risk an injury.
Hood: Yea, I mean, I guess part of the roof could collapse on Mike and Max, spraining their shoulders.
~Best snares Jack, ripping him off the mat. It appears a decision has been made. He hooks him for an inverted DDT before spinning him around and dropping with eMpire of the Sun (Cross Rhodes)!!!! Jack is, obviously dead (NOT LITERALLY). Mike flips him over and places a boot on Jack’s chest. He snaps his fingers at the woman outside the ring to bring his things. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…The eMpire!!!!!
Smith: Dominance…sheer dominance.
Hood: Annihilation. The Lockwood Party has never looked so shitty.
Smith: I don’t know what’s going to happen on April 29th but The eMpire are going to be hard to beat.
~Mike slips on his coat, having no trouble putting it on post match due to the face he never broke a sweat. The woman struggles to give him the heavy gauntlet, he snatches it from her weak hands and slips it over his left hand, holding it high. Max enters the ring and stomps on Jack until the other Lockwood brother rolls out of the ring. The two HOW legends and eMpire mainstays remain in the ring looking as dominant as any tandem we’ve ever seen~
Smith: Take a good look at those men…in a few weeks, one of them could be wearing the OCW Championship.
Hood: If that happens, it’ll be well deserved, in my opinion.
Smith: I’m not sure I’d go that far but whoever emerges from that match as the winner will have won one of the most competitive matches in company history.
~Scene Opens. Backstage interviewer Who’re is in the hallway with both Trav Morgan and Evin Empire for an interview. Both men stood on each side of her~
{Who’re}: “Hey guys, i’m standing here tonight with Evin Empire and Trav Morgan. They refer to themselves as the Syndicate.”
~Trav taps Who’re on her shoulder.~
[Trav]: “Actually, you can call us the Sex Symbol Syndicate…...For obvious reasons, heh.”
{Who’re}: “Mmmmmhhhhmmmm, no arguments here. So, you guys have been making a lot of rounds here in OCW. What can we expect from the Syndicate?”
~Trav grins.~
[Trav]: “Listen babe, Evin and I are all about greatness, we look like greatness, smell like greatness and uuuum, did I mention that we LOOK like greatness…...Look at me.”
~Trav smiles devilishly at Who’re.~
[Trav]: “Look at me….”
~Trav chuckles.~
[Trav]: “No seriously.”
~Trav begins to flex and pose with his biceps as he stretches his right arm out.~
[Trav]: “Now listen, everyone in OCW has already discovered that I am more than just a good looking face with muscles. I put my time in baby, all day, every day. My boy Evin Empire is the #1 contender for the Craze championship and of course I will be following right behind him with match wins and victories from this day forward. Guys like Evin and I? Oh yeah, we flock together and we fight together.”
~Trav glares menacingly into the camera as Who’re turns the microphone toward Empire.~
{Who’re}: “Now, speaking of the Craze Championship, Evin..it was recently announced on OCW dot com that you will now have to wait until AFTER the Block Party pay-per-view for your opportunity at the title. Any thoughts or comments on that situation?”
~Evin looks down at the ground momentarily, shaking his head in disgust.~
[Evin]: “As a matter of fact...WHO’RE...I just happen to have a thought AND a comment on that situation. My THOUGHT is that “Block Party” is the perfect name for the upcoming pay-per-view because all of those chumps in that tournament are taking up all the card space and blocking your boy from getting his shine on! My COMMENT is that everyone left in that tournament should be thankful that I didn’t decide to throw my name in the hat, or it wouldn’t be the Craze Championship I would have my sights set on...but I don’t book the matches, I just dominate them, so if Mr. Welsh wants to delay the inevitable, more power to him. In the meantime, I’ll just keep on keeping on, racking up wins and raking in paychecks for The Syndicate…”
~With a double grin, both Trav and Evin walk off...~
Smith: Evin has a point, Hood. If he were in that tournament he might be the favorite.
Hood: I blame Zybala for that oversight.
Smith: You blame Zybala for everything!
Hood: That's because he's the ruiner of everything!
Smith: Whatever...folks, the fastest rising star in OCW is up next as Evin Empire takes on Dazi Miyashita!
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Singles Match
Evin Empire (10-1) vs. Dazi Miyashita (4-3)
~The fans remain enthusiastic. Their lust for violence is as high as ever. You have got to love these people. Belvedere clears his throat to a hearty ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~"Of Angles" by The Cruxsahdows hits the pa. You see her manager, Carlton coming out in face paint and an all-black suit on. He has a Singapore cane in hand, pointing it at the entrance as Dazi come out. She stares at the crowd, turning to see all the faces and then turns to Carlton. He gives a nod and the pair march down to the ring. there is no theatrics when Carlos gets in the ring. Dazi, however, stares out at the crowd before doing her signature splits, ducking under the rope and then turning to the ramp. She awaits her opponent on her knees with a wicked grin on her face, Carlton behind her with the Singapore cane in his hands~
Belvedere: From New York City, standing 5’4 and weighing in at 121lbs…Dazi Miyashita!
Smith: Dazi making her in ring return after a very disappointing showing against Mack O’Connor in her first round match of the Block Party Tournament.
Hood: That match lasted…what, thirty seconds?
Smith: Dazi attempted something…it backfired and, yes, she lost.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~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. 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~
Belvedere: From Reno, Nevada…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 215lbs…he is the #1 Contender to the OCW Craze Championship…Evin Empire!!
Smith: All people can talk about these days is the eMpire. Well here’s another EMPIRE that deserves a little bit of recognition…this man is quietly becoming one of the very best in OCW.
Hood: Yea, he’s looked great, Smith. He’ll get his shot at Andrea post Block Party.
Smith: Indeed
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: Can Dazi rebound or will she becoming another statistic on the resume of Evin Empire?
Hood: Statistic, for sure.
Smith: We’re about to find out!
~Dazi rushes toward Evin, full of fire! Evin doesn’t shy away. The two locks up in the center of the ring. Dazi yells and fights, trying to gain the advantage, but Evin easily takes her over with an arm drag. Dazi pops back up and rushes at Evin. He takes her down, face first with a drop toe hold! Dazi, still angry, pops back up and runs at Evin who picks her up and spins around, slamming her to the mat with a scoop slam!!! Dazi arches her back and rolls out of the ring~
Smith: Dazi trying to get the upper hand early on but Evin is cutting all of her attempted moves off.
Hood: He’s a star, Smith. Dazi’s fine…nothing wrong with her, but she’s not a star.
Smith: Well that remains to be seen. If she can somehow gain the advantage and win this match, I think we might view her career a little differently.
~Dazi looks at Carlton and reaches for the Singapore cane! Carlton tries to resist, wanting Dazi to fight this one without the use of a weapon. Dazi is furious, she continues to pull on the cane. Evin reaches through the ropes and grabs Dazi by the hair, yanking her up onto the apron. Carlton manages to rip the cane free. Evin yanks Dazi through the ropes, hooks her, lifts her up and drops her with a Fisherman Brainbuster!! Dazi hits hard~
Smith: Dazi’s biggest weakness is her desire to resort to hardcore violence.
Hood: Yea, she doesn’t trust her in ring ability enough to see it through.
Smith: Indeed. Her match against Mack she took the cane and charged at the former OCW Champion only to be defeated instantly. This week…a tug of war for the cane may have cost her another match.
~Dazi is laid out, center of the ring. Evin heads for the nearest corner and scales it with ease. He stands atop the corner and looks down at Dazi. He turns around, pointing his back to the ring and leaps off with the Empire Press (Skytwister Press)!!! He pops back to his feet, fired up. Dazi appears prone for the pin, but Evin isn’t quite finished~
Smith: Tremendous athleticism shown by Evin Empire!
Hood: He’s the #1 Contender for the OCW Craze Championship, Smith. We’re all seeing why this kid is a future star.
Smith: I think we can eliminate future from that label, Hood. He’s already a star.
~Dazi fights to her feet. She’s wobbly, off base…Evin runs into the ropes, he leaps up, springboards off with a moonsault, grabs Dazi on the way down and drops her with an Inverted DDT (Empire Strikes Back)!!!! He makes a nonchalant cover for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…EVIN EMPIRE!!!!!
Smith: Dominant win for Evin Empire as he prepares to meet Andrea Hernandez for the OCW Craze Championship.
Hood: Andrea’s defeated OCW legends…she’s also defeated arrogant upstarts. But I doubt she’s faced anyone with Evin’s momentum.
Smith: He’s riding a tremendous wave of momentum right now, for sure. It will be Andrea’s biggest test to date as champion.
~The camera cuts back to the corridors of the arena, where OCW interviewer AKB is waiting with a microphone. The door behind him reads “The eMpire” and AKB looks as though he’s about to have a very unpleasant experience, so it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize who he’s waiting to interview~
~After a few seconds of silence, door opens and out steps the Mad Titan of Wrestling himself, Mike Best. He’s clearly just finished showering after a flawless victory over the Lockwood Party, which is pretty evident since he’s literally not wearing anything but a towel around his neck~
~Like, literally nothing but the towel~
~AKB immediately turns away from the brazen male nudity, as the decidedly average sized penis of the eMpire co-leader swings in the breeze of the OCW Arena hallway~
Mike Best: Don’t avert your eyes, you plastic fucking salad fork. Take it in.
~Leaning back, Michael begins to shake his hips from side to side, causing his half-flaccid cock to slap against each of his thighs in an almost metronome-like motion. This is brought to you completely unedited, because it is airing on HOTv. You’re welcome.~
Mike Best: Let me save you four minutes of banter, AKB. You try to call me by my Christian name, I insult you in a way that’s really a meta statement about someone else on the roster, you sarcastically call me Mr. Best, then I HARD PASS on your question about Kitty Petrova, let’s just fucking get on with it.
~AKB takes a moment to get his interview bearings, after a rush of answers to questions he didn’t ask yet. He clears his throat, to buy himself a second~
AKB: Mi- Mr. Best, after a dom--
Mike Best: Nope, changed my mind, get the fuck out of here.
~Before AKB can even formulate a question, Michael snatches the microphone out of his hand and pushes him out of frame~
Mike Best: DID YOU FUCKING SEE THAT SHIT TONIGHT?! Somebody must have called the FUCKING FIRE MARSHAL because we shut that Lockwood Party the FUCK DOWN. Ain’t no party like a Lockwood Party cause a Lockwood Party don’t FUCKING SHOW UP.
~He takes a dominant step forward, his cock and balls bouncing in place as the front of his wet hair brushes across his forehead. Why describe the forehead though? No one is watching the forehead~
Mike Best: I’m gonna level with you, OCW, I’m fucking bored. You wanna know why I complained to Mike Zyballsack about being in the midcard this week? You just SAW why. Two straight main events, two straight victories, and then tonight you saw what happens when you put me against anything but the best. I challenge Bifford, he writes my name on a fish, and I beat Bifford. I put out an open challenge, The Incredible One accepts, he writes my name on a car chase, and I beat The Incredible One. I own his Hall of Fame ring now, by the way. Did anyone catch that I OWN A FUCKING OCW HALL OF FAME RING NOW? Of course you fucking didn’t, because I’m standing on live television with MY FUCKING DICK AND BALLS OUT, and no one backstage is gonna notice. They’ll all say “hey, great show this week” and move on. You know why? Because I’m not saying their fucking names, and all anyone around here does is fast forward until the see the mouth sounds that make up their fucking names.
~He pushes his arms slowly forward, before pulled his elbows back hard into a thrusting motion. Back and forth, back and forth, literally humping the air while his cock and balls do actual Dicknastics live on HOTv. Doesn’t matter. Nobody is watching but the people at home, and they probably all saw Mike Best’s dick when Julian Assange got arrested anyway~
Mike Best: How about I just get a bunch of shit off my chest, and we’ll see if anyone in OCW is paying attention, yeah? I’m banging the fuck out of Kitty Petrova. Most nights. We don’t hate Jason Kortare because he’s attractive, we hate him because he seems like a Mongoloid alien being trying to understand “hooman emoshun”. Mike Zybala is a grown man with the ideas of a fourteen year old boy and I assume his mother still picks out his clothes in the morning. The Lockwood Party doesn’t talk while Bob Grenier is drinking water, and he was clearly a thirsty bitch this week. Anything? Anybody? No? Do I need to literally piss in the hallway and call this arena mine right now?
~As he talks shit, it would appear that the once half-flaccid penis of Mike Best is actually beginning to grow. It’s kind of like when Pinocchio lies, except that trash talk makes him erect. Okay, so it’s nothing like Pinocchio. But who cares? This is filler between dialogue.~
Mike Best: The champions of OCW are the laziest, most complacent fucking hacks I have ever seen in my life. All of you motherfuckers are competing in a tournament for a World Title shot, meanwhile treating the belts around your waists like meaningless trinkets. You’re devaluing the belts, devaluing your brand, and devaluing yourselves. Andrea Hernandez wants to be taken seriously as a main eventer, but can’t be bothered to elevate her own fucking belt to the top of the card. Grenier and Vargas are too busy arguing about whether they’d rather smoke weed or oppress the civil rights of Black people to defend the belts they won back in fucking February. Paul Paras hasn’t had a fucking match since the one where I debuted, LITERALLY OVER A MONTH AGO. And then, there’s Vincent fucking Langston.
~Michael shakes his head in disappointment, and his now mostly-erect cock follows suit. It is strong, but it is equally disappointed~
Mike Best: Vincent Langston is the Savage Champion. I just thought I’d point that out, since he didn’t defend the belt AT Social Justice, AFTER Social Justice, and despite there now being a number one contender, is not scheduled to defend it at Black Party, either. Is it fucking holding up your pants, Langston? You talked real tough about the eMpire, but you wanna know what’s uniMpressive, eMasculating, and iMMeasurably pathetic? Not being a fighting champion in a division that is literally all about being the toughest motherfucker in the room. But I have a plan for you, Langston. I’ll make a man out of you yet.
~His penis has now reached maximum erectitude, standing at full attention as though the national anthem was playing or royalty just walked into the room. It hits his belly button with a massive thwap, which can actually be heard on the microphone~
Mike Best: I have officially petitioned OCW to put the Savage Championship on the line at Block Party, in the main event. They can change the rules, they can change the participants, they can do whatever the fuck they want, but I refuse to watch Vincent Langston lose at two straight fucking pay-per-views and still have a championship around his waist like he’s a champion. I officially propose that the man with the most eliminations at Block Party be crowned the Savage Champion, with the overall winner taking home the OCW Championship. Now go ahead and duck that stipulation, you fucking coward-- prove what a SAVAGE you AREN’T.
~He leans into the camera now, his cock finally leaving the full view of the screen as his voice lowers slightly~
Mike Best: We’re coming for all of it, OCW. Craze. Tag Team. Savage. We’re taking everything and we’re burning the status quo to the fucking ground… and you won’t even know it’s coming, because you aren’t… paying… attention. But you will be-- because at Block Party, we take the Big Daddy and work our way down. At Block Party, it doesn’t matter if they add fifteen more TBAs to the line-up… the eMpire is walking out with the OCW Championship.
~Taking a step back, Mike Best thrusts the microphone back into the chest of AKB. Pulling the towel off his neck, Mike rolls it up and snaps the interviewer with the towel before walking back into the eMpire locker room, slamming the door behind him~
Smith: AH!
Hood: Oh relax! Stop screaming over the image of a grown man's rock hard cock. Don't be gay, Smith.
Smith: It's hard for me to process what he said after that imagery...but the gist of it, folks is that the eMpire is hoping to relieve all OCW champions of their belts.
Hood: Plus he wants Langston to put his Savage Title on the line at Block Party.
Smith: Yes, there was that.
Hood: I think that's what got him the hardest, Smith. At least from what I could tell...No homo.
Smith: Well the eMpire will get their opportunity to back up their words at Block Party when they face Langston, Paras and...Cyanide.
Hood: Boy you really hate AgCN, don't you?
Smith: He's incapacitated! Anyway...they'll get their chance at Block Party to earn the OCW Championship and, potentially, the Savage Championship. In the mean time, we've got a tournament to resume...the winner may very well be the first person in line against a member of the eMpire. Let's take a look at the Scorpion Bracket as we get set to enter second round competition.
Hood: Meyhu's got his spot back?!
Smith: No, just an old graphic.
Hood: You mean our graphic department didn't edit the bracket to show Carrington instead of Meyhu?
Smith: Nope
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
Smith: Bradley Carrington, who was handed a second round spot, is up against The Lost Stranger...the winner advances to the finals of the Scorpion Bracket...that match is next!
|
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Scorpion Bracket – Round 2
(1) “The Professor” Bradley Carrington (10-7) vs. (4) The Lost Stranger (10-4)
~It’s tournament time! These fans can FEEL it. There is a depressing lack of LIME in the crowd…no, not because we’re fresh out of dead bodies, but because Meyhu won’t be competing tonight. Cue sad face. Instead, however, we get the return of a close associate of the chosen one. Belvedere clears his throat to a huge ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a second round match in the Scorpion Bracket! Introducing first…
~The Friday the 13th theme plays. Fans give a very strange reaction…there are some clear boos coming from the crowd. Others seem slightly intrigued. The Lost Soul…err…The Stranger…err…THE LOST STRANGER emerges from behind the curtain. Slowly, with methodical intent, he heads down the ramp and slides into the ring~
Belvedere: From Parts Unknown…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs…he is a former OCW Ascension Champion…and a former OCW Savage Champion…he is…The Lost Stranger!!
Smith: The Lost Stranger…is, what I believe he’s calling himself these days.
Hood: How can you lose a stranger?
Smith: I don’t know…maybe you find a person with Alzheimer’s…you don’t know them…you’re trying to help them and they run off, vanishing? A lost stranger?
Hood: Fuck me…that’s just proof that you should never help strangers.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The crowd immediately begins to boo. It’s clear they aren’t fans of Carrington’s sudden involvement in this tournament. "The Greatest Man That Ever Lived" by Weezer hits! The boos only increase in volume. Bradley Carrington emerges with his not quite but soon to be best-selling autobiography under his arm. Fans chant “BULLSHIT!” Carrington pauses and looks out at the fans, shaking his head. The man who bathes in Cornell Red is appalled at what’s become of the OCW fans during his absence. He makes his way to the ring, rushes up the steps and enters through the ropes~
Belvedere: From Ithaca, New York…standing six feet tall and weighing in at 205lbs… “The Professor” Bradley Carrington!!
Smith: Carrington receiving a bye into the second round courtesy of his friend, Matt Meyhu.
Hood: Nepotism exists everywhere, Smith. If you don’t like it, blame your friends and family for not being more successful.
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Carrington is immensely talented. He possesses main event level potential…unfortunately he’s never been able to sustain any momentum in OCW.
Hood: Yea, people scoff at the idea of The Professor entering this tournament but, if he is focused, he could win the whole fucking thing.
Smith: Carrington also has a history with Ed Houston. If Ed were to upset Lurrr later this evening…a Carrington win right here would pit those two against one another to kick of Block Party.
~Carrington leans in his corner, reading his autobiography. He nods and says “Ah, great line. Tremendous writing.” The fans boo. TLS approaches the center of the ring. He clears his throat. Carrington finally looks up and sees his opponent~
Smith: Carrington as arrogant as ever.
Hood: Don’t ever change, Professor!
~Carrington walks over to TLS and tells him to be quiet – he’s reading. TLS slaps the book out of Carrington’s hands!!! Carrington spins around, trying to catch the book. TLS rolls him up!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…THE LOST STRANGER!!!!!
Smith: TLS just pinned Carrington!
Hood: Ring rust is a bitch.
Smith: Rust? Carrington was blinded by hubris!
~TLS pops to his feet, laughing. He kicks Carrington’s book out of the ring and exits. Carrington sits up, furious over what’s taken place~
Smith: And TLS moves on!
Hood: I have a feeling we might see some surprises tonight, Smith.
Smith: Indeed…tonight’s got that ‘upset’ feel to it.
~The Massacre feed cuts out and is replaced by an entirely black screen. Before you have a chance to call your cable provider to complain or (gasp) change the channel to another network, you are reassured and mildly alarmed by the sound of a blowing wind and an accompanying windchime serenading you in the darkness. You are puzzled at first, until a single white snowflake spirals across the screen. You know what’s going on. You’re just as woke as the rest of us, aren’t you? Suddenly, a voice breaks through the darkness as well.~
Pete Buttigieg: I recognize the audacity of doing this as a… millennial. More than a little bold… to seek the highest office in the land.
~The voice of Indiana mayor Pete Buttigieg clips in and out of the darkness, and soon, the image of the young mayor speaking at his presidential campaign kickoff fades into your view. Soothing orchestral music plays in the background as Pete’s soundbites play in succession.~
Pete Buttigieg: I come from that generation that grew up with school shootings as the norm, the generation that produced the bulk of the troops in the post-9/11 conflicts, the generation that is going to be on the business end of climate change for as long as we live.
~Mayor Pete’s image at the warehouse podium shudders and changes rapidly as if glitching out. You take a closer look as the mayor is suddenly replaced by the blinding white garb of White Sky’s Revolution Ringleader, Robin Toth, who opens his smiling lips to speak, but the voice that emerges is still that of the mayor.~
Pete Buttigieg/Robin Toth: The forces of change in our country today are tectonic… The horror show in Washington is mesmerizing, all-consuming. But starting today, Marcus Welsh, we are going to change the channel.
~Wait… did you just hear Marcus Welsh’s name? That couldn’t have been part of the speech. As if on command, Toth glitches out and Mayor Pete reappears.~
Pete Buttigieg: …to tell a different story than “Make America Great Again.” Because there is a myth being sold… the myth that we can stop the clock and turn it back. …They’re telling us to look for greatness in all the wrong places.
~The screen shudders again, but this time, the masked YUKI-ONNA stands at the microphone eerily, Mayor Pete’s voice narrating as the camera view zooms slowly closer to the ghostly Japanese woman, who may be talking behind the mask, but it’s impossible to tell.~
Pete Buttigieg/Yuki-Onna: It’s time to walk away from the politics of the past and toward something totally different… That’s why, this time… it’s not about winning an election. It’s about winning an era. If you don’t like our plan, Marcus, fine—show us yours.
~That time, you swear your heard Welsh’s name. Yuki-Onna glitches away just as Toth had, bringing back Mayor Pete for a moment as the music grows in volume. As he speaks, he is joined on stage, one by one, by young millennials clad in all white, each glitching in around him and facing the cameras with determined, infallible eyes.~
Pete Buttigieg: We are aware that we are making history… You and I have the chance to usher in a new American spring. So, with hope in our hearts and fire in our bellies, let’s get to work, and let’s make history.
~By the time he finishes his statement, you can barely see the mayor anymore. He is surrounded by a field of white. The millennials simultaneously place their snowflake-adorned masks over their eyes.~
Pete Buttigieg: …This is what the beginning of a new American spring looks like.
~The close-up visages of Yuki-Onna and Robin Toth flash rapidly, briefly, and startlingly over the screen before the entire scene disappears, cutting off the music and sending you back to the darkened sky. The snow begins to fall as the windchime sounds off in the distance. As the sky quickly becomes blotted out by the growing shroud of snow, a series of messages are written across your screen in blue, as if by an invisible hand on parchment, with each getting engulfed by the snowfall soon after being written.~
“THE REVOLUTION WILL BE LIVESTREAMED...”
“WE CAN WAIT… CAN YOU?”
“TOGETHER, WE ARE THE SKY.”
~The feed glitches the same way the Buttigieg video did, sending you back to your regularly-scheduled Massacre broadcast.~
Smith: As it often is, a message from White Sky that is both hopeful and bone-chilling, Hood.
Hood: Don’t those millennials have jobs? Maybe they can do some honest work instead of spreading their snowflake propaganda on our show.
Smith: Some would say it isn’t propaganda so much as a truth some people don’t want to hear.
Hood: And why are they threatening Marcus Welsh? As much as I hate to admit it, Zybala is back in charge.
Smith: Mr. Welsh is responsible for keeping White Sky off OCW television all these months, and from the rumors we’ve heard about Yuki-Onna in particular, she is as vengeful as they come. Maybe they haven’t forgotten the way Welsh tried to silence them!
Hood: Urggh… that woman gives me the creeps. And that basket case Toth isn’t much better. Can we talk about something else?
Smith: Sure…we can talk about The Block Party tournament…it rolls on as the original OCW Icon Lurrr is set to do battle with one of OCW’s most talented current stars, Ed Houston!
|
|
Scorpion Bracket – Round 2
(2) Lurrr (2-1) vs. (3) Ed Houston (21-11)
~Fans are feeling froggy. Hopping around, making strange noises – they might even dive into a murky puddle if such a thing were available. But, sadly, no such wet surface exists within the OCW Arena. So these hopping imbeciles will have to remain on their feet with their eyes glued to the ring as the next tournament match gets underway. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a second round match in the Scorpion Bracket! Introducing first…
~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: Ed Houston fresh off his weird loss last week to Ehud of Moab.
Hood: I’d rather not remember that match.
Smith: You’re not the only one.
Hood: Sadly, the only person who WANTS to remember that match can’t.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Smith: We know what that means!
Hood: At some point we need to stop acting surprised when that plays.
Smith: I’ll never act normal when Lurrr makes an appearance on Massacre…his appearances are so rare, Hood!
I used to be broke, confused..no joke
~The original OCW legend appears from behind the curtain. He’s got his Hall of Fame Championship over his shoulder. He looks out to the crowd with appreciation. He turns toward the ring and switches to a look of determination. Houston paces back and forth, keeping a watch on his opponent. Lurrr smirks and hustles down the ramp, charging toward the ring and sliding in under the bottom rope. Chants of “LURRR!” echo throughout the arena! He pops to his feet and points at Houston, talking trash. Houston smirks, enjoying the situation~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Houston, Texas…he is a 3 Time OCW Champion, he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is the reigning OCW Hall of Fame Champion…he is the original legend of OCW…he is…LURRRR!!!!!
~Lurrr steps up onto the second buckle and holds his HOF title high and proud. The crowd chants “LURRRRRRRRRRRRR!” really dragging out that third r. Belvedere exits the ring. Lurrr hops off the apron and hands the departing announcer his HOF title~
Smith: Lurrr and Ed Houston – what a match!
Hood: Winner will move on to the finals of the Scorpion bracket, right Smith?
Smith: Indeed…the winner of this match punches their ticket to Block Party!
~The bell rings. The crowd pops. Lurrr and Ed circle one another, both men looking eager to have a competitive match. They pause as the crowd seems split with their dueling “LURRR” and “HOUSTON” chants~
Smith: These fans love their nostalgia acts. Therefore Lurrr is hugely over…Ed, however, is one of their current favorites.
Hood: Lurrr is from Houston, Smith. Do you think that gives him an advantage?
Smith: I’m not sure how that would give him an advantage, Hood.
Hood: Do you think Lurrr got Ed fired from NASA due to his political connections without the city of Houston?
Smith: No.
~Fighting spirit fills the OCW Arena. Houston, still stinging from his loss one week ago, heads toward the middle of the ring. He looks across at Lurrr. Lurrr, still sporting his super cool cowboy hat, marches toward Ed. Lurrr’s taller than Ed…a feature he tries to accentuate by lifting his chin up. Ed lifts his up, trying to keep eye contact with OCW’s original ICON. Ed extends his hand, looking for a show of respect. Lurrr’s chin remains elevated…his eyes turn downward as he looks at the hand. Lurrr slowly removes his cowboy hand and pie faces Ed with it!!! The fans BOOO!! Ed stumbles back. Lurrr lunges forward with right hands, pummeling the hat into Ed’s face~
Smith: And we’re off as Lurrr shows his true colors.
Hood: Oh the nostalgia act is fun but let’s not forget that Lurrr is one miserable prick.
Smith: He’s arguably the greatest ‘heel’ in OCW history.
Hood: Yep and I for one am glad to see that the dick in Lurrr (NO HOMO) hasn’t been removed (NO HOMO!!)
~Ed falters back into a corner. Lurrr finally pulls the cowboy hat from his face…it’s pretty fucked up. Lurrr tosses it into the crowd. A person who looks like Curt Canon in DRAG snares the hat and sniffs it. Lurrr pays the person no mind, keeping his focus on Ed. He lifts a few knees into Ed’s abdomen. Houston doubles over. Lurrr secures Ed’s head, turns around and charges forward, dropping Ed into the mat with a Bulldog~
Smith: Fast start after Lurrr used his hat to distract Ed.
Hood: There’s a lot of controversy surrounding that hat, Smtih.
Smith: I can certainly understand that. The move by Lurrr was a dirty one.
Hood: Oh no, not about this match…about the hat itself. People HATE Lurrr in a cowboy hat…they think it makes him look like an old man with a bad hairline.
Smith: Well, he isn’t young…
~Lurrr grabs Ed by the hair before returning to his feet…the OCW veteran is well aware how quickly wrestlers like Ed can recover. He drills Ed in the head with a straight right hand…Ed stumbles into the ropes, woozy. Lurrr delivers a knife-edged chop right across Ed’s exposed chest. Houston is reeling from the impact. Lurrr takes Ed down with a hip toss. Ed hits hard, sitting up in the center of the ring. Lurrr dives down with a double ax handle to the back of Houston’s head! Ed falls to his side, holding the back of his head in pain~
Smith: Lurrr delivering a hard-hitting, mat-based offense.
Hood: He’s not as spry as he once was. Kind of like Jordan adopting that fadeaway jumper.
Smith: Indeed, the greats can adapt with age.
Hood: Yea, no lame ass trust falls around here.
~Lurrr foregoes going for a pin. He returns to his feet, holding onto Ed by the hair. He delivers some more right hands. Houston staggers into the ropes. Lurrr delivers another knife-edged chop…this offense is looking somewhat predictable. Lurrr starts for the hip toss but realizes he’s doing the same shit over again. So, he straightens Ed up and reaches back for another knife-edged chop…he thrusts ahead, but Ed ducks! Houston jumps into the air and hits Lurrr with a Pele Kick!!! Lurrr falls through the ropes, onto the apron!! The fans go wild~
Smith: Pele Kick by Ed! He’s back in this!
Hood: Damnit! That fucking NASA flunkie…shit! We need Mathis out here!
Smith: Mathis is missing, Hood!
Hood: What?! NOO
~Houston returns to his feet. He’s looking pretty spry (for a white guy). He takes off, hitting the ropes. Lurrr gets to his feet on the apron. Ed charges at Lurrr…he leaps into the air, gaining tremendous height! He leaps over Lurrr, comes down, grabs onto Lurrr’s waist and slams him onto the floor outside with a sunset flip powerbomb!!! Lurrr hits hard!! The back of his head bounces off the outside floor! The fans at ringside go wild! We hear “HOLY SHIT!” chanted throughout the OCW arena~
Smith: What a move! What athleticism! Ed’s on fire!
Hood: Just like that plane he flew while in NASA.
Smith: Fake news!
~Ed, on his feet and leaning against the apron, looks down at Lurrr. Lurrr tries to sit up. Houston jumps up and gives Lurrr a double foot stomp into the chest, flattening the original ICON back out on the floor. Houston grabs Lurrr by the hair and tosses him back into the ring. Ed jumps up onto the apron, flat-footed and hops onto the top rope. Lurrr returns to his feet. Houston springboards off and drills Lurrr with a flying forearm!!! Lurrr hits the mat, hard! Ed goes for the pin! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!
Smith: Lurrr kicks out, but it was close!
Hood: Ed’s stepping up his game. Defeating Lurrr would be a monumental achievement.
Smith: There aren’t many wrestlers in OCW history who have defeated Lurrr one on one.
~Ed’s back on his feet. He is poised for a superkick. Lurrr slowly returns to his feet. Ed lunges forward with a superkick!! Lurrr ducks!! Ed turns around. Lurrr throws his very own superkick ‘THE WAKE-UP CALL’!!! Ed dodges the fatal blow (not literally)!!! Ed hits the ropes. Lurrr spins around. Houston leaps into the air with a cross body, but Lurrr catches Ed!! Lurrr hoists Ed up onto his shoulders in the Electric Chair position. Houston leans back and takes Lurrr down with an inverted Hurricanrana!!! The fans go wild!! Houston kips up! He grabs Lurrr by the leg and drags him into the center of the ring~
Smith: Ed’s looking to hit Blastoff! If he connects, this one will be over!
Hood: He’s too quick for Lurrr. Is Lurrr finally over the hill?
Smith: Even if I thought that I’d never admit it on air.
Hood: Yea, me neither!
~Houston reaches the top buckle. He looks down at a vulnerable Lurrr. He’s about to jump when something catches his eye…it’s a picture of MARK TAYLOR! Someone in the crowd is holding it up. Houston freezes. He HATES Mark Taylor. Lurrr manages to get to his feet during the interruption. He runs forward and hits the ropes!! Ed falls, getting crotched on the top buckle!! The crowd boos. They try to harm the man with the Taylor photo, but he’s gone~
Smith: What was that?!
Hood: I think it was Buzz Aldrin holding a photo of Neil Armstrong.
Smith: I’m pretty sure that is inaccurate.
Hood: Okay, maybe it was a guy holding up the photo of the man who invented ice cream?
Smith: Again, wrong.
~Lurrr grabs Houston and hoists him off the corner. Ed’s draped over Lurrr’s shoulder. Lurrr charges forward, looking to spear Ed head first into the corner across the ring. Ed slips off Lurrr’s back. Lurrr turns around and eats a superkick from Ed!! Lurrr’s body flies into the corner he was previously aiming toward. The crowd goes wild~
Smith: Superkick from Ed! This guy is unreal!
Hood: Unless he’s facing Ehud.
Smith: Hey, to be fair, Ehud never pinned Ed.
Hood: Well, yea, I guess that is fair.
~Houston runs forward and leaps up, placing his feet into Lurrr’s midsection. He falls back and tosses Lurrr over with a monkey flip. Lurrr displays the athleticism of yesteryear by flipping all the way over and landing on his feet!! Houston rushes to a standing position and hurries ahead, somewhat recklessly. Lurrr drills him with THE WAKE UP CALL!!! Ed goes stiff and hits the mat! Lurrr covers Ed for the pin! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LURRR!!!!!
Smith: No!
Hood: Aw yea! Lurrr turning back the clock and winning a big one!
Smith: It was that photo…that stupid photo distracted Ed when he had this won!
Hood: Hey, that’s his problem. That’s Houstn’s problem…Houston, he has a problem.
Smith: Ed should be moving on, not Lurrr. This is Ed’s time! Lurrr is the past!
Hood: Looks like he’s the present, Smith. Lurrr is going to Block Party. Ed has been blocked.
Smith: A tough loss for The Rocket Man. 2019 looked to be a breakthrough year for the rapid rising star…but now, his star has faded somewhat. What’s next for Ed Houston?
Hood: Oh calm the fuck down. He’ll get more opportunities…this is OCW…Ed’s a vet around here, a beloved one, at that. He’ll always have chances as long as he puts the work in.
Smith: I suppose…meanwhile, Lurrr moves on and has punched his ticket to the final 8 and a spot at Block Party.
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
~We cut backstage to find the Rebel and the Ginger Ninja searching in the bowels of the OCW Arena, going into parts unseen. Both were still in their ring gear. Mel also carried her bright red aluminum baseball bat just in case. The two look like they had been at it since they arrived~
Molly: Mel, dearie, why are we doin' this? They'd be fawkin' stupid to bring Mr. Tio back here, yeah?
~Melinda sighs and shakes her head~
Rebel: In the world of wrestling, this is how kidnapping goes. Everybody keeps thinking, keep the victim right under everyone's nose. It's the last place anyone would look, except those of us who have been at it for awhile.
~Molly gave a slow nod of her head.~
Molly: Remember when that cult kidnapped me friend that one time & they brought her to the fawkin' arena? Tha' whole time I'm tellin' ye' it's fawkin' stupid, why would they do this? Yet there she was, strapped to a chair in a hidden room.
Rebel: It's still freaky how nobody found that hidden switch or that hidden room.
~The Ginger Ninja chuckles softly.~
Molly: Aye, we've been through some shyte haven't we?
Rebel: That we have.
~The two approach a fork in the hallway going in two different directions. Melinda quirked her brow and looked to Molly.~
Rebel: Another one of those choose your own adventure moments.
Molly: I'll take the one on tha' right, you take tha' one on tha' left. Woe's be the dumb fawker or fawkers who try ta' jump outta' the wood work.
~Melinda turned and headed down the left path.~
Rebel: *Over her shoulder to Molly* Be cautious, we don't know what's waiting for us down here.
Molly: Oh now what fun would there be in that, yeah? Hahahahahaha.....
~The two were promptly seperated down a long and winding hallway that seemed to take them around the Arena itself. There were several service doors concealing closets that manned bilge pumps to keep water out of the Arena as it sat lower than sea level on a fairly shallow island in the Florida Keys. If any of those pumps were to ever be shut off, the area and the first floor of the arena, along with all of the changing rooms, would be lost instantly to ocean water damage. She checked each one, just in case~
~As she got further, the rhythmic thrum of each machine began to joined each other in unison, giving the impression that the hallway had a heartbeat of sorts. This had a bit of an unnerving effect on the Rebel, combined with the gradual narrowing of the hallway. Something felt off, wrong almost. There was a smell in the air that was other worldly and further unsettling. She'd never experienced this scent in her entire life~
~As she rounded the corner, she saw a man seated on the floor wearing a long black leather coat, a hood obscuring his features from her. He wasn't particularly built, but the fact that one of his legs spanned most of the floor, she knew he was fairly tall. In his hand was a simple baseball, which he bounced in his pale hand, gold glittery rings on his fingers, the nails painted black and filed to points. From what Melinda could make out of his attire in the dim lighting, he wore well polished black shoes, charcoal grey slacks, a black leather vest, and a orange silk shirt.~
Rebel: You're not Tio....
~She brought her ball bat up before her, held at her side ready to strike or defend. The figure rose to his full height, roughly six-foot five, give or take. Mel could almost make out what looked like black tendrils of smoke wisps escaping the hood, keeping his face obscured. A dark chuckle rippled through the air from the man's throat as he tossed that ball up in the air, catching it effortlessly. When he spoke, his voice seemed as if it were coming from somewhere deep and far away, yet thudding ominously in her ears.~
Dark Figure: ....Of course not, Melinda darling. I'm something far worse, something that's been waiting for you to find me.
~Melinda stood dead quiet, the hair's on the back of her neck standing on end. The smoke parted from the face to reveal a bone white skull wearing designer shades staring back at her. It flipped it's hood back and she watched in horror veins, muscle, sinewy, blood, and flesh all began to form around it. Hair grew from the top of the figure's head. It removed the shades just as ice blue eyes formed in the sockets to reveal the smiling face of her worst enemy....~
~Shock and horror were written upon her face and immediately she lunged at him, swinging for the fences with her bat!~
Rebel: FUCK YOU SEBASTIAN!!!!
~Before she could even get close, the baseball became a fireball, blasting her off her feet and leaving a smoking burn spot. The force came like a punch to the heart, leaving her disoriented on the floor while sucking in precious air that had been knocked from her lungs. The figure walked up to her, smirking. His voice was now deep, rich, and booming with a thick southern Missouri accent.~
Figure: That's Mr. DeBlanc to you, Rhodes. Now I could destroy you right here and now, but as your little friend is fond of saying, what is the fun in that now? Just know that I have returned and it's all your fault.
~He leaned over Melinda, whispering softly...~
Figure: ...I'd have been better off left alive. Now I can manipulate everything in your life.... your emotions, your friends, and loved ones, events in your life. Ev-ery-tttthhhhhiiinnnnngggg....
~Melinda swung her fist up and connected with something solid. It was not Sebastian Deblanc, who vanished an explosion of ash, but instead Molly Hatchet, who had kneeled over her seemingly-unconscious friend!~
Molly: FFFFAAAWWWKKK!!!
~She bounced off the nearby wall and falls to a seat, clutching her jaw.~
Molly: BLOODAE' FAWKIN' HELL MEL!!!
~Melinda sits up, numb with shock. The burns on her vest are gone, but she knew something had just happened.~
Rebel: Oh fuck.... Molly are you ok?
~Molly glowered at her.~
Molly: I found ye' laid out on tha' floor and tried ta' wake ye' up but ya' just wouldnae' fawkin' wake up, THEN YE' FAWKIN' DECK ME OUTTA' NOWHERE?!
Rebel: I don't know what happened, but something horrible is coming....
Molly: What tha' bloodae' hell are you goin' on about?
Rebel: Sebastian DeBlanc is back....
Molly: He's dead, Mel! They found him burned ta' death in his old wrestlin' arena. The dead donnae' reallae' come back, that's just folk tales!
~She dared not tell Molly the truth and instead took in a deep breath.~
Rebel: Yeah.... let's get the fuck out of here....
~The two rose, a cold sweat running down Mel's face as the two made the long trek back to the service hall....~
Smith: In searching for TIO they found something much worse!
Hood: Melinda Rhodes made an enemy along the way? What a shock!
Smith: Hey, you may not like her but she's a fierce competitor who has given OCW everything she has. She deserves better than to be attacked like that...especially when all the was doing was trying to help out a battered OCW legend.
Hood: When did you guys start dating?
Smith: How dare you insinuate I'd be anything BUT professional? My goodness. Your mind and the way it works. Folks, I'm going to drastically change subjects here before a TMZ article appears detailing some fictional romance. We've got the finals locked in for the Scorpion Bracket. Let's take a look
Smith: How fitting that two wrestlers very familiar with Scorpion would reach the finals of his bracket.
Hood: Yea I doubt anyone had TLS and Lurrr facing each other but, hey, tournament play.
Smith: It is wild and wacky! Now, fans...let's take a look at the El Linchador Bracket as we enter the second portion of our tournament programming this evening
Smith: Four HUGE names remain in this one...three hall of famers and the OCW Craze Champion
Hood: Which match is up first?
Smith: First up is Mack and Canon...a rematch, of sorts, from Lost at Sea. Let's head down to ringside!
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El Linchador Bracket – Round 2
(1) Mack O’Connor (30-9) vs. (4) Curt Canon (16-7-1)
~A photo of OCW Hall of Famer EL LINCHADOR displays on the OCW Tron. The crowd goes wild! A loud “LINCHY” chant is heard. It’s time for action within the Linchy bracket to begin! Belvedere clears his glorious throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a second round match in the El Linchador Bracket! Introducing first…
~The opening beats of Figure 8 by Trust Company hits. Eight seconds into the song you see Curt Canon slide out from the entrance way on to the ramp. He stands there with an arrogant look on his face and for a few seconds before taking both hands and pointing to himself. In the same motion he leans a bit back and throws his hands out to his side. He then slowly starts to make his way to the ring, arrogantly looking at the crowd and rubbing his wrist on the way down. He gets to the ring and walks up the steps….climbs into the ring heads to the center repeats the pose he did at the top of the ramp as blue pyro shoots out of all four turnbuckles.~
Smith: Canon back…without the DareDevil mask.
Hood: Well, I guess after downing Noah Hanson as CURT CANON he decided he didn’t need the mask. That or it was stolen by James Vorex.
Smith: Let’s hope the former rather than the latter. I hate it when friends steal from one another.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"Vagabond” by the Greenskeepers hits. Mack O’Connor walks out on the stage and walks directly to the ring, dressed in jeans and a black tank top. He occasionally raises an arm to acknowledge and get a rise out of the fans. He slides into the ring and starts pacing in his corner. He doesn’t talk trash to Curt but he makes sure to stare him down, letting Canon know he means business~
Belvedere: And her opponent…from Brooklyn, New York…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 220lbs…he is a former OCW Champion. He is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is…Mack O’Connor!!
Smith: These two have some history, Hood. They were involved in a triple threat match which headlined Lost at Sea for the OCW Championship.
Hood: Yep, Mack nearly won that match…as did Curt.
Smith: One of the best OCW Title matches in company history. Tonight, these two get a one on one shot at each other to determine who goes on to Block Party.
~Belvedere exits and the bell rings~
Hood: It’s fucking crazy to think that two Hall of Famers are facing off simply to be placed ON the Block Party card.
Smith: That’s how competitive OCW is right now, Hood. Average doesn’t cut it anymore.
Hood: Basic bitches be gone!
~Mack and Curt head toward one another. They begin to circle the ring. Mack pauses and extends his arm, fist closed. Curt stops and looks around. Mack’s steel gaze doesn’t leave Curt’s curious eyes. Canon balls up his fist and he reaches out, knocking fists with Mack. The crowd goes wild. The two men resume circling one another before locking up to a strong ovation~
Smith: Tremendous show of respect as we kick things off. Two hall of famers who have waged war against one another in the past.
Hood: Yep, Mack doesn’t like or respect many people…but Curt earned his respect on that aircraft carrier last July.
Smith: Can you believe that was nearly a year ago?
Hood: What the fuck am I doing with my life?
~Mack snares the smaller Canon in a side head lock. Curt winces and grunts. He throws Mack off. Mack runs toward the ropes. Curt leaps into the air for a dropkick. Mack holds onto the top rope…Curt lands onto the mat, hard. Mack dives in, taking advantage of the prone Canon. He reaches for Canon’s hair and his head…trying to land some fists. Curt manages to roll away, into the ropes, under the bottom rope and onto the apron. Mack gets to his knees, already frustrated with Curt’s superior quickness. He pops to his feet. Canon returns to his. Mack marches forward and reaches for Curt…Canon hops off the apron, onto the outside floor. Mack looks at him from the ring and gives him a middle finger. The crowd mostly boos…but a solid portion of the fans cheer~
Smith: Respect one minute, frustration the next.
Hood: Curt’s quick, Smith…one of the quickest wrestlers in OCW history. Mack is tremendous but quickness is not his calling card.
Smith: Well, he’s not slow.
Hood: No, not as slow as say…Tom Ambrose. But he’s not as quick as Curt…unless, well, unless a bottle of Jameson falls off the shelf. Then he moves about as quick as anyone.
~Curt takes a walk for a second. Mack pivots, keeping a watch on his smaller, quicker adversary. Scruff yells ‘ONE!’ Curt wastes no time, diving back into the ring. Mack hustles over, throwing a kick. Curt pops to his feet and catches Mack’s leg. He goes for a dragon screw leg whip. Mack grabs Curt mid-spin. He has Curt hooked for an inverted DDT. He goes for an inverted suplex. He lifts Curt up. Canon lands on his feet behind Mack. He grabs Mack around the waist. Mack grinds his teeth and says “fuck!”. His frustration continues to mount. Mack throws a back elbow. Curt performs a baseball slide between Mack’s legs. He pops up in front of Mack and jumps up, drilling Mack in the chest with a perfect dropkick!!! Mack staggers back into a corner, shaken from the impact~
Smith: Great sequence as, once again, Curt’s quickness has Mack shaken!
Hood: But not stirred…Mack will bounce back. It’s not like he’s in there with Leadong.
Smith: Leadong?
Hood: Yea, I think Mack has been hanging with the trans community lately. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
~Curt hustles over, hopping into the second rope. He begins to punch Mack on top of his bald head. The crowd counts along. Curt gets to six before Mack straightens up and hooks Curt around the legs. He marches toward the center of the ring. Curt tries to tumble over, with a backslide…Mack is too strong. He whips Curt forward and slams him into the mat with an Alabama Slam!! Curt hits hard, holding the back of his head in pain. Mack has suddenly bought him enough time to catch his breath. He reaches into his jeans and removes a flask, taking a generous gulp of whiskey~
Smith: Drinking mid-match…not the best advice I’d give the young wrestlers watching at home.
Hood: Just going to assume that’s whiskey, huh? What if it’s Pomegranate Juice, huh? Or maybe some type of Naked Juice…I hear Green Machine is fairly healthy.
Smith: We all know what’s in there, Hood.
Hood: Sounds like profiling to me.
~Mack finishes his healthy pull of ‘liquid’ and places the flask back into his pant pocket. He whips some wetness from his mouth and goes back over to Curt. Canon is still down. Mack rushes forward and places a rough right foot into Curt’s midsection via an angry stomp. Curt curls up. Mack throws a few stiff kicks into Curt’s back, sending Curt onto his stomach. Mack begins to stomp on Curt’s exposed back… stomping the shit out of Canon from every angle. Curt finally crawls toward the ropes, hugging the bottom for safety~
Smith: Mack’s got Curt down. This is where Mack excels when a match breaks down into a fight.
Hood: He’s a barroom brawler, Smith. That’s what Leadong likes so much about him.
Smith: WHO IS LEADONG?!
Hood: You telling me you haven’t been following people’s stories? SHAME! SHAME!
~Mack grabs Curt by his little legs. He tries to pull Curt off of the ropes. He’s got Canon’s body stretched. Curt’s hands grip the bottom rope tight. Mack works up some momentum and he pulls Curt up as hard as he can, trying to rip him free. Curt lets go and uses the momentum (plus some impressive ab strength) to sit up, grab Mack by the head, spin around and drop him with a Tornado DDT!! The crowd goes wild!! Mack is down, stunned. Curt remains on his back for a moment before nipping up to a HUGE ovation~
Smith: What a move by Curt!
Hood: That’s some DareDevil shit right there.
Smith: Curt’s fighting to extend his career. If he wins tonight, he moves on. If he loses, then he gets to start a family.
Hood: So basically if he loses he goes to hell.
~Canon, back on his feet, realizes he’s got a great opportunity. Mack sits up. He gets to one knee, near the ropes. Canon charges in and blasts Mack in the side of the head with a V-Trigger!!! Mack nearly falls through the ropes. The top half of his body hangs over the middle rope with his legs remaining inside the ring. Curt leaps over the top rope onto the apron. He drops to the floor…he runs forward and blasts Mack in the side of the head with another V-Trigger!!! Mack rolls into the ring, flat on his back. Curt hops onto the apron…he jumps up, springboards off the top rope and lands on top of Mack with a leg drop!! He goes for the pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: Mack kicks out!
Hood: Curt with that quick, hard-hitting offense…but it’s going to take more than that to put the #1 Seed away.
Smith: Indeed, Mack is one of the favorites to win this tournament.
~Curt is back on his feet. He yanks Mack up and kicks him in the gut. Mack doubles over. Curt hits the ropes and charges at Mack looking for The Chronicles End!! Mack counters by turning Curt inside out with a huge lariat!!! Curt hits the mat, hard! He rolls around, slowly, in obvious pain. Mack remains face down, his arms shaking as he tries to push up~
Smith: What a lariat! Curt might be concussed after that one.
Hood: I think we all know how this ends. Curt fights hard, almost wins only for Mack to put him down. Curt’s good…but he ain’t that good.
Smith: Never count out the heart of an OCW legend!
~Mack gets to his knees. He rises to his feet. Curt remains on the mat. Mack bends over and grabs Curt by the hair, pulling the former OCW Champion to his feet. He throws a punch…Curt blocks it! Curt throws a kick at Mack’s gut…Mack catches Curt’s foot and shoves back. Curt performs a backflip, landing on his feet. He charges at Mack who catches Curt and throws him over his head with a belly-to-belly suplex!! Curt flips over and lands, back first into the nearest corner! His legs get caught up, over the top rope…he hangs, upside down. Mack returns to his feet and walks over, stomping on Curt’s face until his legs are forced free, sending Curt to the mat, head first with a rough landing~
Smith: Curt’s in pain…Mack has done a number on him in a short amount of time.
Hood: Sign of a badass brawler, Smith. He doesn’t fuck around.
Smith: That family life Curt dreams about might be close to becoming a reality.
Hood: Unless that chick of his is watching this match…she may become a Mack O’Connor fan.
~Mack yanks Curt back to his feet and keeps him in the corner. He throws a vicious right hand across Curt’s face. Sweat flies out of the ring, hitting some fans at ringside. Most of them recoil but some weird fan in a “Masks are Sexy” shirt seems to be turned on. Mack continues to punch Curt. Canon finally leans into Mack, out on his feet~
Smith: These punches would knock most men out.
Hood: Yep, just like Curt – he’s done.
Smith: He’s not completely out, Hood.
Hood: Mack’s holding him up like a parent hold’s a newborn’s head. Curt would face plant if it weren’t for Mack the Benevolent.
~Mack drags Curt toward the center of the ring. He hooks him for Claymore!! He lifts Curt up…at the apex of the move, Curt reaches down and rakes Mack across the eyes!! Mack’s grip releases. Curt drops to the mat, he runs into the ropes. Mack bends over, shaking his head, rubbing his irritated eyes. Curt bounces off the ropes, sprints at Mack, grabs him by the head and drops him with THE CHRONICLES END!!! The place goes CRAZY!!! Mack is down!!! Curt jumps on top of Mack for the pin…Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…CURT CANON!!!!!
Smith: Canon won!! I can’t believe it!
Hood: Are you fucking kidding me?! We let Canon beat Mack? THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS!
Smith: Mack was in total control…he took his eye off Curt –
Hood: Yea because Curt raked him across the fucking face.
Smith: Mack took his eye off Curt and paid the price!
Hood: This shit is fucking ridiculous. WEAK ASS BOOKING!
Smith: We have our biggest upset of the tournament thus far! This is also…it could be argued, the biggest win of Curt’s career.
Hood: He defeated Lurrr…but some say Lurrr was drunk, high, and potentially half dead that night. Mack, while maybe drunk, was fairly focused tonight.
Smith: What a win for Curt! His career will march on while the family life will have to be put on pause.
Hood: Thank goodness…let’s hold off on Curt procreating for as long as we can. Maybe slip a vasectomy in there while he’s asleep, do mankind a favor.
Smith: Mack, meanwhile, is left without a match at Block Party. That is surprising.
Hood: It fucking sucks, man. Mack’s the best. I really thought he was going to win this tournament.
Smith: It seems as though Mack has a lot on his mind these days. I don’t think he was entirely focused tonight and, well, it cost him.
Smith: And we're back, folks! Keep in mind that Block Party is only two weeks away! It will feature the OCW Tag Titles being defended...an epic Process of Elimination Match for the OCW Championship AND the final eight whittling down to the Block Party champion!
Hood: I'm stoked...not as stoked as Mike was earlier, but pretty stoked.
Smith: Gross. Folks, the tournament rolls on as Andrea Hernandez, the OCW Craze Champion, looks to try and knock off another Hall of Famer
Hood: Broke ass Mike Best impersonator
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El Linchador Bracket – Round 2
(2) Mario Maurako (10-4) vs. (3) Andrea Hernandez © (10-3)
~It’s getting late into the evening but these fans remain wide awake. A few tournament matches remain and it’s clear, based upon the organic energy residing within the OCW crowd that they are heavily invested in tonight’s in-ring action. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a second round match in the El Linchador Bracket! Introducing first…
~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for what comes next~
Belvedere: From Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former OCW Paradigm Champion…she is the current OCW Craze Champion…she is…Andrea Hernandez!!!
~Andrea raises her arms in the air. We see the OCW Craze Championship fastened securely around her waist. A strong ovation is received via the OCW fans~
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~Ego by Element Eighty begins to play before being totally drowned out by boos. Mario Maurako, a proud member of the eMpire, emerges from behind the curtain. He looks out into the crowd. They continue to boo the man. Mario soaks in the jeers. Exhaling a deep breath, Mario makes his way to the ring~
Belvedere: From Minneapolis, Minnesota via Rome, Italy…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 265lbs…he is a two time OCW Hall of Famer…he is a member of the eMpire…he is…Mario Maurako!!
Smith: Mario’s mission continues this evening.
Hood: Dude, he’s set. He’s got the eMpire watching his back. You know when those QBs are trying to get into the end zone, but the defense has them stopped…then those huge ass lineman come running up, shoving the QB over the goal line?
Smith: I watch curling.
Hood: Geezus
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds. Mario, in one corner, stares across the ring at Andrea. She slowly removes her Craze Title, handing it over the top rope to Belvedere for safe keeping~
Smith: Mario may be the slight favorite…but Andrea is no pushover. She could very easily end his tournament run right here, right now.
Hood: Well, yea, she did beat Bob Grenier…which I still think is total bullshit, by the way.
Smith: What’s done is done, Hood.
~Mario points at the OCW Tron. The number 1541 is displayed. He points toward it. Andrea turns and sees it. Her jaw tightens. She looks at Mario with contempt. Mario balls up his fist and points toward Andrea. She yells at him to ‘come on!’ Mario doesn’t hesitate, marching over, looking like he’s going to smack her around~
Smith: Mario and this whack o meter can get lost!
Hood: Careful, Smith. Mario’s not getting any younger…he might literally lose his mind and get lost one day. You don’t want to be labeled as a potential suspect.
Smith: Shut up
~Mario SWINGS at Andrea. She ducks and boots him in the gut!! She grabs Mario for a DDT. He lilts her up, displaying his unrivaled strength. She tries to spin around for a Tornado DDT but Mario refuses to let that happen. He flips her over with a back body drop. Andrea lands on her feet. She hits the ropes. Mario spins around, throwing a devastating right hand! Andrea ducks and jumps on his back, looking to bring him down for a pin. Mario, though, out muscles Andrea and jumps backward, crushing her with a Samoan Drop. The fans boo~
Smith: The meter hasn’t changed.
Hood: He hasn’t whacked her yet…don’t worry, it’s coming.
Smith: Ugh, I hope not.
~Mario stands over Andrea, looking down at the vulnerable Craze Champion. He balls up his fist and aims it at her face. He does an exaggerated fall, looking to bring his fist down. Andrea moves!! Mario’s fist slams into the mat!! He reaches for it instantly, holding his hand in pain. Andrea reaches the ropes and uses them to aid in returning to her feet. She charges at Mario. Mario pops up, grabs Andrea, spins around and drops her with a SPINEBUSTER!! The ring shakes from impact!! Andrea is down once again~
Smith: You can never underestimate an OCW legend, Hood. Andrea is tremendous but Mario is a two time Hall of Famer for a reason.
Hood: You say that like I’m the one underestimating him. If it were me I’d book Mario to win the whole fucking thing.
Smith: Even over Lurrr?
Hood: Glad I don’t have to make that call, Smith.
~Mario returns to his feet. A look of confidence, maybe even arrogance returns to his face. He stomps on Andrea, keeping her down. The fans boo his every movement. Mario reaches down and grabs Andrea by the throat. He deadlifts her off the mat and throws her into the nearest corner. Andrea hits hard, her head suffering a bit of whiplash. Mario charges in and SPLASHES Andrea in the corner. She falls to the mat, sitting on her ass. Mario takes his foot and jams it into her throat~
Smith: Mario is mauling Andrea right now.
Hood: Mario is a Lannister?
Smith: What?
Hood: Lions maul.
Smith: So do Tigers.
Hood: Mario won the Masters?
~Mario removes his foot after the standard five count from Scruff. He grabs Andrea by the head and pulls her up, into the air, tossing her over into the center of the ring. Andrea hits hard, arching her back in pain. Mario steps on her chest, pinning her to the mat. He flexes as Scruff slides in with the count. The fans boo~
1!
Kick out!
Smith: Come on, Mario…if you’re going to pin her, pin her!
Hood: You auditioning to direct Depth’s new film?
Smith: Would you get serious for a moment? The disrespect Mario is showing right now has me disgusted!
~Mario laughs while looking down at Andrea. He picks her up and throws her into another corner. She hits hard. Mario balls up his fist and throws a haymaker. Andrea ducks!! Mario’s fist SLAMS into the top buckle. He bends over, holding his hand in pain! Andrea crawls away, toward the opposite corner. The fans pop! Andrea pulls herself up, in the corner. She looks at Mario and charges. Mario spins around and nearly breaks her in half with a SPEAR!! Andrea turns inside out, landing front first onto the mat. The fans are quieted~
Smith: Ugh
Hood: Yep, gutted – Andrea, that is. Not me. I’m Team Mario.
Smith: File that under things that does not surprise me.
~Mario sits on top of Andrea and locks in a Camel Clutch!! He pulls back, angling Andrea’s body in a very painful looking manner. Scruff kneels with concern. He isn’t about to watch anybody break their back…at least not against their will! Andrea refuses to give it up. Scruff continues to ask but she refuses to relent. Mario looks down with surprise. The sweat on his brow begins to roll down his face. He yanks back even further. Andrea shakes her head ‘no’ in response to Scruff’s continued inquiry~
Smith: She just won’t give up!
Hood: She’ll regret that when she’s all…hobbled up!
Smith: Nice to see you’re adapting to 2019.
Hood: Hey, you know me. I’m always willing to adapt.
~Mario finds the realization that Andrea is not going to submit and, sadly, her back isn’t likely to break. I mean, c’mon, this isn’t early 2000’s OCW. He releases Andrea and looks down at the Craze Champion~
Smith: Mario with some dastardly thoughts, no doubt.
Hood: I think we might see The Viking soon!
Smith: THE VIKING?
Hood: Yes, after you ejaculate during intercourse with a woman you punch her in the head until she is unconscious. You then burn her house down.
Smith: Please stop trying to educate people.
~Mario is, in fact, not going for THE VKING. Instead, he grabs Andrea’s arm and yanks her off the mat into a Full Nelson. He ragdolls the Craze Champion with ease. He’s urging her to quit. Scruff continues to ask Andrea, almost as though he’s urging her to consider submission. Andrea refuses. That fighting spirit within her won’t contemplate quitting. Mario rag dolls her until it becomes somewhat boring. He’s done this enough to know when a person is not going to quit and any further effort will simply serve to drain his energy reserve~
Smith: You have got to admire the fight!
Hood: I don’t have to admire shit, Smith.
Smith: That’s a true champion…Andrea Hernandez is showing why she’s a two time title holder in OCW.
~Mario prepares to lift Andrea up for Super Mario. He gets her up…but Andrea manages to wiggle free due to her limber, flexible joints! At the apex of the move, she grabs Mario by the head, flips over and drops him with Sliced Break #2!!! The crowd goes wild!! Andrea is down. Mario is down. The fans are UP~
Smith: Yes! Way to go! She’s back in this!
Hood: Oh come on! That move should be illegal!
Smith: And why is that?
Hood: Because…it just should be!
~Both competitors begin to move. The fans are chanting for Andrea. Mario manages to get to his feet first. He’s disorientated but is able to locate Andrea before she is fully upright. He throws a right hand. Andrea ducks and gives him a knife edged chop!! Mario staggers back. He throws another punch, weaker this time…Andrea blocks it and hits him with another knife edged chop. And another and another and another…Mario is reeling against the ropes~
Smith: Andrea’s got the two time Hall of Famer on the ropes…LITERALLY
Hood: What the hell happened? Mario HAD this
Smith: Never underestimate the heart of Andrea Hernandez!
~Mario is teetering against the ropes. Andrea reaches back and lunges forward with a HUGE chop…Mario ducks and hoists her over the top rope!! She lands on her feet, on the apron. She grabs Mario by the head and hops off the apron, raking the back of his neck across the top rope. Mario stumbles forward, holding the back of his neck in pain. Scruff looks down at Andrea, beginning a count~
Smith: Mario’s stunned! Get back in there, Andrea!
Hood: I think she’s got a knife! She’s got a knife! DQ her!
Smith: She doesn’t have a knife! Quit profiling!
~Mario wanders across the ring, stunned by the impact to his neck. The fans rise as a giant hops from within the crowd. IT’S LANGSTON! He’s got his chain. He hops onto the apron and DRILLS Mario in the head with a chain wrapped fist!! Mario spins around and falls on the mat, flat on his back! The fans chant ‘YES!’~
Smith: The Savage Champion just hit Mario in the head with his chain!
Hood: This is bullshit!
Smith: Mario is about to go down!
Hood: Where’s the fucking eMpire?! Get out here, now!
~Andrea jumps back onto the apron. She looks around. It isn’t IDEAL but this is for a spot in the elite eight. She jumps up, springboards off the top rope and lands on top of Mario with SKY HIGH!! The place goes crazy! Langston remains outside the ring, watching. Scruff sees him and is like ‘wtf’ but drops to his knees making the count. The fans all chant along~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings! The place goes crazy~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ANDREA HERNANDEZ!!!!!
Smith: She did it! She did it! Andrea is moving on!
Hood: FUCK MY LIFE
Smith: What an upset!
Hood: THIS ISN’T HOW THINGS ARE SUPPOSED TO GO!
~The crowd’s fun is ruined as the eMpire comes rushing down the ramp. Langston sees them heading his way and does the math. He hops over the guardrail and exits through the crowd. Max Kael reaches the barricade and leans over it, glaring at Langston as he hustles away. Mike Best and CMF look into the ring at Andrea. She spots the members of the eMpire and exits the ring. She grabs her Craze Title. CMF goes after her…but she takes off, rushing up the ramp before they can corral and most certainly beat the shit out of her. Mike Best slides into the ring, checking on Mario~
Smith: Get out of there, Andrea!
Hood: Don’t worry, she’s gone.
Smith: Finally…FINALLY someone stands up to and defeats the eMpire!
Hood: This won’t go over well, Smith. The goal is to get Mario his desired OCW Title win. Tonight’s loss shuts off one of those routes. At least he's got that Process of Elimination match for the OCW Title at Block Party...justice will be served for Mario on April 29th!
~Eddie Johnson, aka JAM G, is in his dressing room getting suited up. He slides his mask on and looks in the mirror at himself~
JAM G: You got this, man. You're back. You're important.
~Unbeknownst to JAM G, his dressing room door quietly opens. The Jager Bomber, still in his hooded garb, quietly enters the room. He shuts the door behind him, alerting JAM G to his presence. JAM G spins around, seeing the hooded figure. He begins breathing heavily.~
JAM G: Oh my God. Who are you? What are you doing in here?
~The Jager Bomber moves closer to JAM G. Close enough for JAM G to see his face through the darkness of his cloak~
JAM G: Is that... You... But... You...
~The Jager Bomber lifts his arm from his cloak, offering JAM G a bottle of Jagermeister~
Jager Bomber: You have been chosen. Drink.
~JAM G takes the bottle, but hesitates~
Jager Bomber: Drink!
~JAM G nods, lifting the bottle and taking a sip. The Jager Bomber suddenly jumps forward, holding the bottle in JAM G's mouth. JAM G squirms, but Jager Bomber forces him to chug the bottle. Once the bottle is completely empty, he lets go of JAM G. JAM G passes out and hits the floor~
Jager Bomber: You are mine, now.
~The Jager Bomber lets out a deep, sinister laugh~
Hood: What the fuck?
Smith: The Jager Bomber was apparently recruited John E Depth, and now JAM G!
Hood: Who the hell would want JAM G as a recruit?
Smith: Apparently the Bomber sees something in him.
Hood: The Bomber must be drunk himself.
~The fans go crazy as they hear the music hit the speakers. The cheers get louder as the reinstated general manager Mike Zybala walks out from behind the curtain and makes his way to the ring, high-fiving fans on his way down~
Smith: And it appears that we are getting a visit from our General Manager, Mr. Zybala!
Hood: I am so conflicted! I'm both happy and pissed off that he lost last week! I know what Mr. Welsh must be feeling right now.
~Zybala gets in the ring and shakes hands with Belvedere as the music dies down. Belvedere hands Zybala a microphone then exits the ring. The cheering dulls down a bit as Zybala starts to talk.~
Zybala: Two times. That is two times now that Marcus Welsh has interfered with my matches with world title implications in them. The recent one was last week where I could have won without him even coming near the ring. And the other one was where I fought Meyhu for the OCW belt where he, Knux, Vargas and company cost me the title. However, I am not one for excuses. Congratulations to Hayley on the win. Go all the way kiddo and get that title shot! Moving on. With my loss last week, that puts me back in charge!
~The fans cheer at this. A “ZYBALA” chant breaks out for a bit, but simmers down when Zybala starts to talk again~
Zybala: The boss is back, baby! My first order of business is the empty bracket we have due to C.J. and the other person dropping out. I was wondering what to do about it. I could give their future opponent a free pass into round two, or I could fill the spot. I'm going with option number two! So going on to round two is….. MIKE ZYBALA!!
~the fans go wild as this announcement, but the cheers quickly turn to boos as Welsh comes out...we over hear him say~
Welsh: Back in the tournament? Ya know, that’s not such a bad idea.
~Welsh emerges from behind the curtain wearing a giant ‘Commissioner’ tag on his shirt. It’s clear he doesn’t want to be wearing it~
Zybala: What’s up, commish?
~Welsh lowers his head and walks down the ring. He storms up the steps and enters. He asks for a mic. Belvedere looks at Zybala. Zybala nods and says “you can give him one.” Belvedere hands Welsh a mic...Marcus rips it away, angry over his sudden lack of power~
Welsh: Tournaments are an opportunity to showcase a wide array of talent. Newcomers, veterans, heck, in your case, authority figures. So I say put yourself back into that tournament so I can continue making OCW great again.
~BOOO goes the fans~
Welsh: What? You guys don’t think that’s a great idea? You guys don’t want to see Mikey Z back in OCW Championship contention?
~BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~
Welsh: Look, just because Zybala can’t win a match to save his life doesn’t mean you have to boo the man…
~BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Welsh looks at Zybala~
Zybala: In case you were unaware, Marcus. They’re not booing me…they are booing you.
~The crowd goes wild~
Zybala: As much as I’d love to compete in the tournament I can’t re-enter and risk Marcus running this place for another two weeks. Since I’ve been out of power this eMpire has damn near taken over the company. It’s clear that Marcus is willing to sell OCW’s heart and soul out for a quick buck. So, Marcus – I won’t be re-entering the tournament. I just said that to get you out here.
Welsh: Well that’s just GREAT
~Marcus starts to throw a tantrum. The fans laugh~
Welsh: Who are you going to put in there? The man with an irrational fear of Kurt Cobain named Bronx? Duce fucking Jones?
~The fans go wild! “DUCE! DUCE! DUCE!”~
Welsh: Seriously?
~Zybala looks around, surprised and impressed by the reaction~
Zybala: He did come within an inch of beating Bifford. I don’t know, fans...do you all want to see Duce Jones receive a second chance?
~Fans yell “FUCK YES!”~
Zybala: Book it!
Welsh: What?! No way...no way, you can’t give that guy another shot. He’s from that shitty ass fed, man. Are you CRAZY?! Giving them more free pub on our show?
Zybala: Hey, considering we’re on HOTv now, I figured working with other promotions was kind of our thing these days.
~The fans go “oohhhhh” as in, he got you, Welsh...ya ambiguous fucker~
Zybala: Isn’t there another open spot...against Chad Vargas?
Welsh: Yes.
~Welsh hangs his head, upset over Duce being re-added to the tournament~
Zybala: Ya know, there’s this kid backstage who put on a hell of a performance in round one...ironically against, Chad Vargas.
Welsh: No.
~Welsh looks up, furious. The fans go wild “MAX! MAX! MAX!”~
Welsh: You idiots had better be chanting for Max Kael!
~in unison, the entire crowd yells “IRONSIDE!” Welsh drops his mic and faints to the mat in a very over the top, dramatic act. Zybala acts concerned about this. He looks around and starts shouting, asking if anyone knows C.P.R. No one raises their hand. Slowly, Zybala's left-hand starts to rise. He looks at it then shrugs as he drops to his knees next to Welsh. Welsh notices this and quickly gets to his feet. Zybala stands up laughing.~
Zybala: It's a miracle! What a relief! I honestly didn't want to put my lips on yours. Though I do like the way the fans cheered for Ironside.
~ Welsh stares at Zybala in shock. Surely he’s not going to put the guy with one arm back in the ring with Chad Vargas. Talk about a lawsuit waiting to happen!~
Zybala: Oh don’t look at me like that. When I ran outsiders we had amputees, people in wheel chairs…all sorts of individuals competing. I’ve never been one to turn a person away due to physical hardship. Max more than earned a second shot at Vargas so, Mr. Ironside, welcome back to the Block Party tournament!
~The fans go wild. Welsh heads for the ropes and leans across the top rope, exasperated. He starts to exit~
Zybala: Oh no, no, no
Welsh: What.
~Welsh pauses, his back facing Zybala~
Zybala: I know we’ve been out here forever by this point…but we’ve got a little more to discuss. Mainly this Block Party main event.
~Welsh spins around. His eyes are filled with anxiety~
Welsh: Mike, don’t you dare…that match is scheduled to be the greatest match in company history. It will draw the highest buyrates, the most viewers…it’s going to redefine this company. You keep your stupid hands away from it!
Zybala: Calm down…as you said last week it’s signed, sealed and delivered. There’s only so much I can do, even with my renewed autonomy.
~Welsh sighs and says something along the lines of “That’s why you always prepare for the doomsday, aka, Zybala scenario~
Zybala: However…
~Welsh lowers his head~
Zybala: I was able to make a few alterations.
Welsh: What the hell did you do, Mike.
~The fans chant Zybala! He smiles. Welsh slowly lifts his head, staring at that mischievous grin on Mike’s face~
Zybala: So you labeled it the eMpire against Langston, Paras, and Cyanide. Nothing I can do about that, right? Right. But you didn’t specify WHO from the eMpire would be competing.
Welsh: Well, I mean, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? This whole thing is about Mario…
Zybala: That’s where you’re wrong, Welsh. You want to mortgage OCW to a group hellbent on Mario winning the OCW Title? Fine. I’ll do my best to stonewall those efforts. Only three members from the eMpire can compete…last I checked, the eMpie held FOUR members. So, one will have to sit this one out…that person being, Mario Maurako.
~The fans go wild~
Welsh: Mike! Are you crazy? That ruins everything!
Zybala: Hey, look, if he wants a shot at the OCW Title he can win it the right way, by going all the way in the Block Party tournament. Oh, wait a minute...
Welsh: Whatever
~Welsh is pretty much done at this point…he heads for the ropes~
Zybala: Eh….wait one second, Marcus.
~Welsh stops. His body is tense with building frustration~
Welsh: What now.
Zybala: You really think our legal department is going to sign off on Cyanide competing? I mean, it was a fun little joke, for an asshole. But there’s no way that was going to fly. I’ve been getting complaints from people beneath and above my pay grade. Cyanide cannot be advertised for this match.
Welsh: The match is official. You said it yourself!
~Welsh turns around, arguing the advantage he’d built in for the eMpire~
Zybala: Yea, sure but, I mean, you now how these legal things go. You let your legal team know that a guy in a coma is advertised and their willing to bend things a bit to keep an in-ring death from taking place on television.
~The fans go wild!~
Welsh: It’s not like he’d show up, you idiot. That was the entire point!
Zybala: Oh that’s even better. Advertising a guy you know won’t show…you realize how much legal shit that would create? Bad idea, Marcus. Cyanide is out.
Welsh: Well then who the fuck is in?!
Zybala: T.B.A.
Welsh: TBA?
Zybala: Yes, TBA
Welsh: Who the hell is TBA?
Zybala: TBA…get your ass out here!
~The OCW Arena ERUPTS when Matt Meyhu’s music hits. The Marvel appears from behind the curtain wearing a ‘TBA’ shirt. Welsh faints a second time…this one looks to be legit. Mike tosses the mic out of the ring, into the crowd. A fan catches it and screams~
Fan: OH MY GOSH! MEYHU IS TBA! THIS IS THE GREATEST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!!
~His mic is instantly cut. Zybala leaps over the top rope and hustles up the ramp. She bumps fists with Meyhu and points to the man currently known as TBA~
Smith: Meyhu is TBA!
Hood: Well how fucking fortunate for everyone that turned out to be.
Smith: You upset over Meyhu's inclusion?
Hood: Hey, Meyhu's my boy...but Zybala is trying to fuck over the eMpire...that's what's got me upset.
Smith: Mario is out...Meyhu is in! It's official, folks...we're getting Paul Paras, Vincent Langston, and Matt Meyhu taking on Mike Best, Max Kael, and Cecilworth -
Hood: M!
Smith: Farthington! Holy smokes, what a match!
Hood: I dare anybody watching to find a match with more talent.
~Several Hours later…..~
~Two huge overhead doors to the club are flung open letting in the morning sun in as it starts to rise in the east as the sea of humanity slowly exits the club. One of the first people out is Aubrey sporting a huge smile on her face, she is also sweaty from being trapped in the club. Her shirt is soaked and her hair is weighed down with sweat from dancing all night long. The brightness in the early dawn causes her to cover her eyes as they are taking a little longer to adjust from black lights and darkness to the early morning light. She is not alone as a couple hundred people are following her out of the club. ~
~A couple of second later, she is scooped up as Bester sneaks up behind her and bear hugs her and spins around in a circle while holding her above his head. Aubrey lets out a scream of being surprised with suddenly being lifted off her feet.~
“Best! Put me down! Jesus…” Aubrey says while laughing and Bester loosens his grip around her waist and lets her slides down between his arms till her feet touches the ground.
“Oh! Aubrey! This was a fantastic night! Oh man! I love this place!” A really excited Bester says.
“This was quite the surprise I have to say.” says Aubrey. “You seem to be full of sorts of surprises. And you got some moves in you. If you’re not careful this will get out backstage and you never know, someone might want to go dancing with you.”
“Really? Like who? I love to dance.” Bester says.
“Oh, some lucky lady.”
“Does she have a name? Does she like kitty kats?”
Aubrey laughs and they hug. As they hug Aubrey says “I don’t know Best.”
~The hug lasts longer than most hugs. Finally Bester pulls away and takes Aubrey’s hand and they start walking back to his car, it is time to leave after all.~
“Miss Ba…” Bester begins to say and Aubrey gives him that look. “Aubrey. I’m so happy I brought you here tonight. Ever since I found this place, I have been wanting to share it with someone. I’m so happy that it was you. I don’t have many friends here in Florida and I’ve been coming here all by myself. Every time I have been here thou, I see that everyone is here with someone but me. Tonight, I got to experience just how much fun it is with someone to dance with.”
~They reach Bester’s car and before Bester opens the door for Aubrey, he looks into her eyes.~
“It’s nice to have a buddy like you. I feel so alive.”
“Tonight was a good night to be alive Best. It’s nice to call you my friend as well.” Aubrey says and she taps Bester in his shoulder with her fist, a love tap. Bester smiles. He reaches to open the door to his car for Aubrey.
“Mis….Aubrey. I was thinking, if we help each other, there’s no reason why we both can’t win a championship. Together, there isn’t anything we can’t do. This might sound silly, but I used to watch the Wonder Pets.”
“The what?”
“The Wonder Pets!” Bester says a tad bit gleeful. “WONDER PETS! WONDER PETS! WE’RE ON OUR WAY! TO SAVE THE BABY BIRDS AND SAVE THE DAY! WE’RE NOT TOO BIG! AND WE’RE NOT TOO TOUGH! BUT WHEN WE WORK TOGETHER, WE’VE GOT THE RIGHT STUFF!” Bester starts singing in middle of the parking lot causes people to stop and look at him. “GO WONDER PETS! YAY!”
~Aubrey isn’t sure what to say. Some onlookers clap and cheer for Bester. ~
“I guess what I’m saying Aubrey, is that with each other’s help. We can do anything we want! Teamwork!” Bester says and holds his hand up for a high five. Aubrey slowly nods her head and gives Bester a high five, can’t leave you bestie hanging after all.
“Teamwork?” She says.
“Teamwork! You sleep on it, let me know what you think.” Bester says as he opens the car door. Aubrey climbs in and Bester closes the door. As Bester is making his way the front of the car, Aubrey looks down at her knee and starts to pick a small hole that has started in her jeans. “Teamwork.” She mumbles to herself.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: It appears another team is forming!
Hood: What a weird ass team.
Smith: Hey they could do some damage, Hood. Bester’s got the size and Baxter’s got the mind.
Hood: I guess
Smith: The future of Wonder Pets remains to be seen…however, the future of the El Linchador Bracket Final has been decided…let’s take a look at the updated bracket
Smith: Shocking developoment with both Mario and Mack bowing out in the second round.
Hood: Yep...poor guys aren't even on the Block Party card. Pisses me off.
Smith: Tonight has been unpredictable and we've got one legend remaining...can he survive a night of upsets or will Bifford succumb like many of the other favorites tonight?
Hood: #1 seeds are 0-2 tonight, Smith.
Smith: Technically, yes...not sure how strong Carrington was but he did have that (1) next to his name. Bifford, another number one seed, takes on Hayley Robinson and that match is next!
|
|
SiLVeRFReaK Bracket – Round 2
(1) The Big Bifford (11-3) vs. (5) Hayley Robinson (13-6)
~It’s Main Event time!! The crowd has been here AWHILE…these shows seem to get longer and longer. You have to admire their energetic endurance. They remain on their feet, ready to go. Belvedere clears his throat (which has to be getting sore by now). The fans go wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our main event of the evening!! This match is a second-round match in the SiLVeRFReaK bracket, and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~”Mouth for War” by Pantera hits! The crowd pops! 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: Hayley’s got a huge task ahead of her.
Hood: No shit.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~”Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio hits! The OCW Arena begins to boo! Biff 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~
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!
~Belvedere exits the ring. Bifford marches down the ramp. He stomps up the ring steps. Hayley waits, not so patiently in her corner. Bifford’s huge body wedges between the ropes. He stands, proudly to a chorus of boos. The bell rings~
Smith: I’m all for the underdog, Hood. But I just don’t see how Hayley can win this match.
Hood: Biff is like four times her size!
Smith: Indeed
~Hayley glares at Bifford. He stands proudly, a mysterious wind tickles his MAGICAL FLEECE, which shouldn’t be all that mysterious considering it happens every match. Bifford reaches into his magical fleece and pulls out a cutout picture of Ariel from The Little Mermaid. He’s drawn giant; black X’s over her eyes. He tosses it at Hayley. This is too much. Hayley yells out and charges at Bifford, slamming her arm into him repeatedly with the hardest lariats she can muster. The fans cheer…they are pulling for Hayley but it’s hard to rally behind lariats that aren’t doing much. Her tiny frame smashing up against Bifford’s massive body is rendering neutral results~
Smith: He’s pushed this poor woman to the brink of emotional stability. Why does he have to be such a loathsome human being?
Hood: It’s called tough love, Smith. Bifford is trying to teach Hayley a valuable lesson.
Smith: And that lesson would be?
Hood: Never make friends…that way when people die you don’t get upset.
Smith: Ariel isn’t dead, she’s in a coma!
Hood: She’s dead to me.
~Bifford looks around and laughs. He places the palm of his head on Hayley’s forehead and extends his arm. She falls backward, flipping over her head, landing on one knee. She looks up at Bifford with water welling up in her eyes. She yells and charges ahead with more fury that before. She throws kicks at Biff’s gut – they don’t work. She tries some forearms into Biff’s head – they don’t work. She finally throws a few kicks into Biff’s left knee…those do some damage. Biff, sensing some pain, reaches out and grabs Robinson by the throat. He lifts her up. She kicks her legs around while trying to pry his giant hand from around her neck. She looks down and spits in his face. Biff tosses her halfway across the ring. She hits, hard. Biff wipes her spit from his face and frowns. He slowly begins to remove his MAGICAL FLEECE~
Smith: We’re seeing a more serious side to Bifford.
Hood: She spat in his face, man. That’s a pretty sure fire way to piss someone off.
Smith: She’s had a rough week, Hood. Cut her some slack!
Hood: Oh so that just gives her the right to go around spitting in people’s face? What a joke.
~Bifford is really taking his time removing the MAGICAL FLEECE. He suddenly pauses, spotting a DANGEROUS DAN fan in the audience. It’s a kid with his face painted! Bifford is furious. He turns toward the ropes. Hayley sits up and reaches for the ropes. She rubs the back of her head. She pulls herself up and notices Bifford facing the ropes with the MAGICAL FLEECE in his left hand. Hayley charges forward and drives a knee into Biff’s back!! He drops the MAGICAL FLEECE and leans into the ropes, wincing. Hayley throws several kicks into the back of Biff’s knee, wobbling his base~
Smith: Here we go!! C’mon, Hayley!
Hood: It’s like an ant trying to kill a human. It’s impossible!
Smith: You obviously haven’t seen Ant-Man
Hood: That’s because I don’t watch shitty movies.
~Bifford spins around with a back elbow. Hayley ducks. She reaches down and grabs Biff’s left leg…she grunts and yells, trying to pick it up. Biff kicks his leg up, sending Robinson staggering back. He charges forward. Hayley delivers a dropkick to his left knee! Biff nearly falls to the mat!! He stumbles and limps around on his left knee. Hayley stalks him, throwing hard kicks into the back of his wounded knee, hoping to bring the big man down~
Smith: She’s got Bifford staggering!
Hood: Why do knees have to be so fucking vulnerable?
Smith: Everyone has a weakness, Hood. Even Achilles!
Hood: Fuckin Achilles…you’d think he would have worn the thickest metal possible over that tendon. What an idiot he turned out to be!
~Bifford’s stance continues to wobble. Hayley leaps onto his back and locks on a sleeper! Bifford walks around with his arms extended. Hayley MAYBE slips that arm under his chin…it’s hard to tell; he’s got multiple chins and a giant fucking beard. But she’s doing what she can to incapacitate the big man. Bifford, feeling a bit woozy, reaches up and grabs Hayley by the hair. He gets a solid grip and tries to flip Hayley over his head, to the mat…Hayley flips over, but she manages to alter her arms in the process…she flips over and hits Biff with a Stunner!! Bifford stands up straight…his arms wave around…he looks like he’s about to fall over. The crowd is going wild! They are chanting for Hayley to get up and knock the big man down~
Smith: What a move by Hayley!! She’s got Biff rocked!
Hood: This is ridiculous! SIT ON HER, BIFF!
Smith: It’s not that easy, Hood.
Hood: It fucking should be!
~Hayley pops back to her feet. She runs forward and smacks Biff in the chest with a lariat! The big man nearly topples over! She takes a few steps back and charges forward with another lariat! Bifford staggers back even more…he’s teetering on his heels! Hayley yells and charges forward with a third lariat. Bifford swings his right arm, wildly. Hayley ducks and hits the ropes…Biff turns around and eats a flying knee by Hayley!! She smacks him right in the face!! Biff teeters and finally falls over, landing flat on his back!!! The entire ring shakes! The fans are going with chants of “HAYLEY! HAYLEY!”~
Smith: She just took him down! Now she’s got a chance!
Hood: I can’t believe this bullshit. He’s a Hall of Famer…she’s some brat who can’t even speak proper English. WEAK ASS BOOKING!!
~Hayley seems stunned herself. She crawls around, somewhat bewildered…the stress, the trauma, the emotional weight has perhaps hit her all at once. Her right palm slips out, she nearly plants chin first into the mat – thankfully her youthful reflexes keep her from an embarrassing knock out. Her eyes spot what caused the slippage…the mocking photo of Ariel (The Little Mermaid) Biff brought into the ring. Hayley snares it. Focus returns. She crawls over, reaches up and stuffs the photo into Biff’s mouth! The crowd goes wild!! Biff begins to violently cough. He rolls over, onto his giant belly, coughing and coughing, trying to force up the image Hayley crammed down his throat~
Smith: That serves him right!
Hood: Oh so attempted homicide is okay in your book.
Smith: He’s not going to die, Hood.
Hood: He might! Another Mama Cass type incident!
Smith: Don’t you dare talk bad about Mama Cass!
~Bifford continues to hawk up the photo. If finally pops out, covered in a thick coat of Biff flavored saliva. There may be some HAM debris mixed in. It’s kinda gross. Biff starts to get to all fours, his face is flush and his eyes are watery. Hayley jumps on his back…she’s got the MAGICAL FLEECE in her hands! She wraps it around his throat and pulls back, choking The Big Bifford! The fans chant “YES! YES!” Scruff rushes in, counting to five~
Smith: She’s choking Biff with his favorite accouterment!
Hood: SPEAK ENGLISH
Smith: His most beloved accessory!
Hood: I don’t think he likes the MAGICAL FLEECE as much as his unblemished record against Dan.
~Scruff reaches five. He yells at Hayley to let go. Hayley is almost possessed. She wrenches back, pulling, trying to crush Biff’s throat or rip his head off…or both. Scruff yells at Hayley to let go. The fans are still cheering. Hayley is having none of it. Scruff reaches over, trying to get her off, but she throws her leg out, kicking Scruff in the knee. Scruff looks toward the time keeper~
Smith: Don’t stop it, Scruff! You let so much go…you can’t stop this!
Hood: Dude she’s fucking cheating AND trying to murder a legend. STOP THE MATCH!
Smith: I think an excuse can be made, Hood. She’s had such a rough week…Biff hit a soft spot. Have a heart!
Hood: Stand up for the rules, Scruff. Be a fucking man!
~Bifford’s movements begin to slow. A thick trail of saliva hangs from his mouth. His tongue is visible. His eyes begin to roll into the back of his head. Hayley won’t let go! Scruff runs his fingers through his hair, he’s at a moral impasse. He crouches down and looks into Biff’s nonexistent eyes. That’s enough for him. He stands up and calls for the bell. The crowd BOOOOS. Hayley continues to pull back~
Smith: No! NOO!
Hood: Finally, some fucking justice!
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the winner of this match as a result of a disqualification…THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!
~More boos. Scruff dives at Hayley, grabbing her arms and forcibly removing her from Biff. His tackle manages to release her vice grip around Bifford’s fleece. Biff’s limp neck allows his head to fall to the mat, bouncing around like a giant, hairy bowling ball. The Knife Man slides into the ring with his giant knife. He checks on Bifford. Hayley starts to fight free. She manages to break away from Scruff and she goes after Biff, reaching for the MAGICAL FLEECE. OCW Security hits the ring, pulling her away~
Smith: Hayley has lost it!
Hood: I guess…looks like typical female behavior to me.
~Security manages to remove Hayley from the ring. The Knife Man and several OCW crew members roll Biff onto his back. He’s coughing but in pretty rough shape. They get the MAGICAL FLEECE off of his red, irritated neck. Hayley is dragged up the ramp…she’s being carried by several members as she tries to fight free. The fans chant “HAYLEY! HAYLEY!”~
Smith: I cannot believe what I’ve seen. A disqualification in the Block Party tournament…what a travesty!
Hood: Hey, that bitch earned it, Smith.
Smith: Some might question whether or not Hayley was mentally stable enough to compete tonight. Her emotional distress likely cost her a chance at advancing in the tournament.
Hood: Be that as it may, Bifford rolls on! In OCW you have to keep your shit in check, especially when dealing with characters like Bifford.
Smith: Her tag team partner is in a coma!
Hood: Not Biff’s fault Ariel overdosed on valium last week.
Smith: HOW DARE YOU SPREAD FALSE INFORMATION!
~Hayley manages to break free!! She starts knocking OCW security members down with lariats, roaring elbows, and yakuza kicks!! It's amazing! She's a one woman wrecking crew!! She finally disposes of the security team and glares down at the ring~
Smith: She's free! She's not done yet, Hood!
Hood: Somebody subdue this crazy bitch!
~Hayley is about to head down the ring when she's BLASTED from behind!!! She falls face first onto the steel ramp. Standing over her is OCW Paradigm Champion - Kitty Petrova. The fans BOOOOO! Kitty's holding her title~
Smith: Kitty just smashed Hayley in the back of the head with the Paradigm Championship!
Hood: Hell yes! Thank you, Kitty!
Smith: As if this week hasn't been bad enough for Hayley...this just makes me sick!
Hood: Kitty's here to reach Hayley a lesson.
~Kitty drags Hayley up the ramp. They reach the top. She stands Hayley up and carefully places her Paradigm title on the ground. Kitty measures Hayley up and lunges forward with THE BITCH KICK!! Hayley flies off the stage and crashes through tables, speakers, and electrical wiring! The fans gasp in horror as she vanishes from sight. Kitty starts to look over the edge but decides it's not worth the effort. She snares her Paradigm Championship and holds it high in the air. The fans BOOOO~
Smith: Is Hayley okay? We need help out here!
Hood: Now THAT'S what a champion looks like, Smith.
Smith: She didn't have to do all this! The match was set. What's the point in injuring and insulting Hayley after a tough loss?
Hood: Because she can, Smith. Because she can.
Smith: Ugh, I'm just sick at my stomach. Folks, that's all the time we have tonight...tune in next week as we find out exactly WHO will advance to the final eight and Block Party! See you guys next Monday!
~We get a final shot of Kitty standing triumphant atop the ramp before fading to black~
