OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, May 27th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Memorial Day! A day to respect and admire those who do which most aren’t willing. To put your life on the line in an effort to defend the freedom of a stranger. A stranger who uses twitter to bash the very service in which you are enlisted. WHAT A WORLD. The television screen is activated. GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY is airing. It’s a solid movie but not what we’re looking for. We locate that sweet, beautiful HOTv logo. A replay of REFUELED III is coming to a close…we see the WARGAMES logo and think “alright…nice”. That’s a show that always delivers. Blackness. Dark. Silence. OCW logo…Massacre image…it’s time!! We cut straight to a sold out OCW Arena full of ravenous fans! They chant “OCW!” Our viewpoint shifts directly to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood!
Hood: Happy Labor Day!
Smith: IT’S MEMORIAL DAY
Hood: Shit…I always get those two confused.
Smith: Well you should work to better understand your holidays.
Hood: Hey! I’ve got Christmas down. I’m good.
Smith: Whatever…anyway…we’ve got a tremendous show lined up for you guys! A beat the clock challenge featuring the first OCW Hal of Famer trying to best the most recent OCW Hall of Famer!
Hood: I’m so torn…I feel like a virgin post-prom night.
Smith: Gross. We’ll also see Lilith back in action as she takes on Legion!
Hood: When is OCW going to start selling Lilith licensed teddy bears?
Smith: You might want to ask Tony the Spider about that! Robert Morbidus returns to action as he challenges a rising star here in OCW, Logan.
Hood: Castle Morbidus was a-rocking this week. He’s also banging a chick named Lilith…these two have more in common than meets the eye.
Smith: I suppose.
Hood: I like how you’re TOTALLY ignoring the eMpire’s tag match against the BOIZ who don’t appear all that dangerous.
Smith: Yes, Max Kael...a man with his sights set on Vincent Langston teams with Cecilworth M! Farthington...the number one contender in the Paradigm division as they take on Dangerous Dan and Crazy Chris!
Hood: You totally ignored alphabetizing.
Smith: I’m sorry I’m not perfect. Duce Jones returns to action after his big main event win a few weeks ago…he’ll take on GREAT SCOTT.
Hood: Scott is a man who is great…he lives in a forty story mansion.
Smith: Debatable yet inarguable facts
Hood: Does that even make sense?
Smith: Mike Best, the reigning OCW Champion, takes on Hayley Robinson…the Paradigm Champion. If Mike Best wins Hayley Robinson will be forced to leave OCW.
Hood: Hayley is a dumb bird.
Smith: She could win.
Hood: And so could Ross Hanson.
Smith: And, in our main event, Andrea Hernandez defends her Craze Championship against a man many people consider the next face of OCW, Evin Empire.
Hood: Evin’s time is NOW.
Smith: All that a much more tonight on Monday Night Massacre!
~We cut backstage. An armored truck is backing into the OCW parking lot. Security stands around, keeping notes. Cap Slock pops into view~
Cap Slock: ALRIGHT THAT’S CLOSE ENOUGH. THE DOORS REMAIN SEALED UNLESS DEPTH WINS. WE REALLY NEED HANSON TO WIN. LET’S GO ROSS HANSON.
~We cut back to the live audience. They aren’t chanting for Ross Hanson. They seem to have forgotten him. Smith looks at Hood~
Smith: OCW is preparing to shell out some serious cash in the event John E Depth defeats Ross Hanson.
Hood: Welsh is going to be PISSED if that happens.
Smith: Could it mean the closure of the sports room?
Hood: That or a shift in how the odds are decided…I’d guess.
~The house lights go down as colorful lights start flashing all around the area. "Imaginary" by Evanescence begins to play, as Lilith appears at the top of the entrance ramp. It is immediately obvious that Lilith isn't in her usual cheery mood however as the brunette stands at the top of the stage taking in the crowds mixed reaction. Lilith isn't in her usual ring attire, as she is now wearing an extremely tight, body fitting, pink mini dress with baby pink high heeled shoes.~
Belvedere: Please welcome... LILITH!!!
~Again she gets a loud mixed reaction from the crowd as Lilith eventually reaches the ring, storms around it and immediately grabs a microphone off of the time keeper. She then slowly makes her way up the ring steps and slowly climbs over the middle rope into the ring, a few pervy men and women wolf whistling her as she does so.
Lilith: Sooooooo earlier this week I'm sure you all saw that I was going to come out here, at the start of this very show and call out the General Manager of the OCW... Marcus Welsh.
~The mention of his name instantly gets a heated reaction from the crowd~
Lilith: And I know what you're all thinking... "DAMN Lilith looks good tonight!" And you're absolutely right! I am SUPER yummy and we all know it! But tonight isn't about how amazing I am and how good I look... and how all you fat, chubby WALRUS "women" want to be me and all your partners want you to be me too...
~Lilith now gets a heated reaction off the live crowd~
Lilith: Well I mean, I guess it is in a way... cos I mean... I'm Lilith and that means EVERYTHING is about me! But someone in the back thinks that's wrong, some slimey little yuckball thinks HE knows best... that I'm not the only TRUE star in this place...
~Crowd reaction says she's not~
Lilith: YEAH RIGHT!!! My star burns so damn hot and so damn bright that Mike Best is basically like Casper right now when he came out of the machine thinggy that was supposed to turn him human again but instead turned him into an egg! MIKE BEST IS AN EGG!!! Sunny star side up! But... Ummmmm... Where was I?! OH YEAH!!! I AM SICK TO DEATH OF MUCUS!!! I am the main event, I am the only legend, the only Hall of Famers... the only EVERYTHING that this place has ever seen and what does he do?! JOBBER BEAR MATCH! JOBBER BEAR MATCH!!! JOBBER FREAKING BEAR MATCH!!! I should be the the main event, I should be the headline act, I should BE THE OCW!!! AND ALL YOU DO IS WASTE MY TALENT, MY SKILL... MY EVERYTHING!!! Well enough is enough! Get the hell out here right now so I can RIP your stuffing out and kick your teeth down your throat and maybe then you'll know that I... AM... LILITH!!! And I ---
~“Obsession” by Animotion begins to play as Welsh steps out, interrupting the crazed brunette. Welsh stands atop the stage with a perplexed expression. He, naturally, has a mic in hand. I mean, why wouldn't he? He lifts said mic to his lips~
Marcus Welsh: You know the purpose of an opening segment is to entice viewers to stick around, right?
~The fans boo~
Marcus Welsh: I GAVE you this spot because I believed you'd do something with it...because I TRUSTED you to open the show with a bang. Instead all I'm hearing is stuff about a jobber bear match...casper references...what's the deal, Lilith? You know, in OCW, a woman has to be more than a solid pair of tits and average-ish looking face, right?
~Lilith just glares right at the General Manager as she paces back and forth in the ring absolutely fuming~
Lilith: SHUT UP!!! I gave you this... I gave you that... blah blah blah blah BLAH!!! SHUT UP... BOUDLE!!! Be honest for the first time in your super gross, super worthless little life... I'm here, in the "opener" because who the hell is going to stop me?! YOU?!!!
~Lilith bursts out laughing in the middle of the ring, some fans joining in with the hysterical laughter, some still booing her~
Lilith: Or maybe some barn yard animal is going to stop me... like the duck?!
Crowd: IT'S A NICE DUCK!
Lilith: SHUT UP!!! You know where that duck belongs?! In a freaking pancake whilst I chew it down... and then immediately spit it out after realizing how gross it tastes!
~Once again the fans boo Lilith, loudly~
Lilith: Have you got any idea how Grrrrrr it makes a girl when you, Mucus, give a fucking duck more air time than you give me... the greatest and biggest star you and this whole entire company have ever seen?!! And then you have the NERVE to put me in the jobber bear match AGAIN when even your precious little OCW Champion couldn't even beat me?! Well we'll see how good you treat me when I come up there and shove this microphone down your disgusting little throat!
~Lilith immediately climbs through the ring ropes, steps down the steel steps and begins to storm up the entrance ramp towards Marcus. A flood of security surrounds Marcus, protecting him from the psycho named Lilith~
Marcus Welsh: Easy there, biddie.
Fans: IT'S BOUDLE
Marcus Welsh: Whatever...it's a stupid word, anyway! You're new here, Lilith...or at least new to this regime. You're used to the way TREAT ran things. And we all know how TREAT runs things, am I right?
~A 'Cassidy' chant starts up. Welsh scowls~
Marcus Welsh: He runs things like a birdie!
Fans: IT'S BOUDLE!
Marcus Welsh: Fuck. Whatever. Regardless, you're new under MY purview, my regime. And around here we don't go around threatening management...especially when the name of said management harkens to a country in the UK. Threats get you...not exactly nowhere...more like a place you don't want to visit. Sort of like wherever you're from...I'd look it up but, honestly, it's not worth my time.
~Lilith grabs hold of her hair and pulls on it, hard, as she looks through the security right at Marcus Welsh, letting out a deafening scream~
Lilith: You're dead! YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!!!
~Before they even knew what was happening, Lilith lashes out striking a few of the security guards, sending them crashing down onto the floor. One of the larger men reaches in and grabs Lilith around her waist as the brunette wiggles within his tight grasp~
Lilith: Arghhhh! LET ME GO!!!
~Welsh backs away, showing fear. Once he feels he's achieved a 'safe distance' he continues speaking, with faux confidence~
Marcus Welsh: YOU LAY ONE HAND ON ME AND I WILL TERMINATE TWILIGHT'S CONTRACT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND, PSYCHO WOMAN? HUH, DO YA?
~The fans aren't really impressed with the 'psycho woman' line but they do react to the threat. Lilith continues to aggressively snarl at the General Manager as he backs further away, more security guards standing in between the two of them. The largest man who was still holding Lilith around her waist is obviously starting to struggle to keep her still as two more men join his side to keep her restrained~
Lilith: THIS ISNT OVER!!! My Sarah is going to use her contract and become the bestest champion here and THEN I will come straight back after you! GET OFF ME!!!!!
~Welsh, noticing that Lilith is securely restrained, saunters toward the irascible woman. He leans in and gives her a very condescending peck on the forehead. he follows that up by patting her head in a demeaning manner. His expression turns downward as he throws his thumb toward the curtain~
Marcus Welsh: Get this psycho out of my face.
~We cut away, back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Tensions are rising between Lilith and Marcus.
Hood: Fuck or Fight…there are only two options at this point.
Smith: I hope for an option C, honestly.
Hood: Lilith is crazy, man…like for real. Marcus needs to watch his back.
Smith: She can, at the very least, smell a rat, I’ll give her that. She knows Marcus is not a man to be trusted…as long as there isn’t an ‘M’ in your name, anyway.
Hood: You better watch it, Smith. People have been removed from television for a lot less.
Smith: With Sarah’s big decision looming you have to wonder if Lilith’s outburst may have unintentionally harmed Twilight’s cause.
Hood: Maybe, maybe not…who knows.
Smith: Excellent analysis as always, Hood.
Hood: Danke
Smith: Let’s cut to a commercial before we hit the ring for our first match of the evening!
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Ross Hanson (2-0) vs. John E Depth (1-3)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…The following match is your opening match of the evening, and it is scheduled for one fall!
Fans: ONE FALL!!
Belvedere: Coming to the ring first…
"BIBLE CLUB! FOFOFOFOFOR GOD!"
~”Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang hits. The crowd boos when they see Depth appear from backstage, though the boos turn to cheers when Chasity Temple follows him. Both are wearing “BIBLE CLUB” T-shirts (available for purchase at the merchandise booths and at the online store.) Depth walks down the ramp and rolls into the ring as the male fans drool over Chasity in her too tight shirt and school girl skirt. Depth 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, but Depth focuses on the ones he thinks are cheering him. Though we can assume he has some fans, as some people are holding up the usual Depth signs; "BOOBY-PLEX" "King of Dong Style" and "CLAM SLAM" . He makes lude gestures towards some of the ladies in the crowd, which causes the smart fans go boo louder. Chasity yells at him not to be crude and Depth apologizes~
Smith: Now that's a T-shirt that I can get behind.
Hood: You can get behind the shirt all you want. I want to get behind Chasity.
Smith: I don't think she would like you any where near her or her "pure vajayjay."
Hood: It won't be so pure if I get my hands on it.
Smith: Dude! Do you want another sexual harassment meeting?!
Hood:......... I retract my previous statement and would like to apologize to anyone I may have offended.
Belvedere: And his opponent.....
~The PA system begins to play Peter Green strumming the beginning to "The Chain". When Stevie Nicks' vocals start, Ross Hanson saunters through the curtain, head hung down and arms swinging from his sides. He slowly makes his way towards the ring, slapping some fans' hands as he lifts his head towards the ring. His pace quickens along with the song~
~Once at ringside, Ross slides into the ring quickly as a direct contrast to his methodical pace getting there. He hops to their feet just as quick, removing his shirt while standing in the corner with his eyes directly on his opponent. Ross bounces his back against the ropes a couple of times, patiently but intently awaiting the start of the match~
Belvedere: From Columbus, Ohio, weighing in tonight at 221 pounds. He is "The Forgotten" Ross Hanson.
~As Belvedere exits the ring, Puff is checking both competitors for weapons. He deems them both clean and calls for the bell. Depth walks towards Hanson and holds an arm in the air, palm open. He then stares at Hanson~
Smith: It looks like Depth wants to have a test of strength with Hanson.
Hood: That's why he's the king of the jobbers! He fears no man!
~Hanson looks at the hand for a second before shrugging, and raising his own hand. The two lock hands then do the same with the other hands. The crowd cheers as Hanson and Depth struggle against each other as they try to push their opponent one way or the other. Depth starts to get the upper hand as he starts pushing and leaning Hanson back, making him look like a scene from the Matrix as Hanson's back touches the mat. Depth laughs and cheers as it seems he's winning, but Hansom gets a look of determination on his face as he stops Depth's premature cry if victory by pushing himself up with a massive display of leg and core strength. Both men have gone back to the original position. Hanson gives Depth a taste of his own medicine as he pushes the porn director back to the mat. Hanson kicks Depth's legs out from under him, bringing Depth crashing to the mat. Hanson let's go of Depth's hands and gives him a hard stomp to the chest. Depth groans in pain as Hanson raises his leg again. As he brings it down, Chasity yells "MOVE JOHN E.!" Depth listens as he rolls out of the way, barely avoiding getting stomp. He quickly gets to his feet and looks at a grinning Hanson. He thinks he's got this~
Smith: Hanson is looking very confident in there.
Hood: He should be more cautious. Depth is the One Win Wonder after all.
~Depth charges at Hanson, who sidesteps out of the way. Depth hits the ropes and bounces off towards Hanson once again. Ross pivots a bit and hiptosses the incoming Depth. However, Depth counters by landing on his feet! Depth stumbles a bit, trying to balance himself then turns around and tries a hiptoss of his own. Hanson lands on his feet much more stable than Depth, quickly turns around and brings Depth down to the mat with a Japanese Armdrag. Depth is back to his feet quickly and gives Hanson an Armdrag of his own. Both men get to their feet and try to dropkick each other at the same time. Their feet collide in midair and both fall to the mat. They roll to their back and kip up back to their feet! Hanson and Depth stare each other down as the fans cheer in appreciation for the athleticism~
Smith: Depth is in rare form tonight.
Hood: Maybe Chasity is helping him be a better Depth. Though she better not stop him from making Slam Bus 12!! Maybe he can convert HER and she'll be the new star!
Smith: I highly doubt that.
~The stare down continues when out of nowhere, Depth spreads his arms wide open as if he's on a cross. He and Chasity then shout as loud as they can~
Chasity & Depth: BIBLE CLUB, BAYBAY!!!
~The deviants and the neckbeards cheer for their favorite wrestlers' new catchphrase. Hanson is not amused as he takes advantage of the wide open Depth and boots him in the gut. Depth doubles over and Hanson quickly drops him with a d.d.t.! He pins Depth and Puff gets in position to count as Chasity tries to encourage Depth~
1!
2!
NO
~Depth gets a shoulder up before the three, much to the annoyance of Hanson. He grabs Depth by the hair and pulls him to his feet. Puff issues a warning to Hanson about hair pulling, but Hanson waves it off. He tucks Depth's head under his arm and lift him up with a suplex. Depth slips free however and lands on his feet behind Hanson. Depth warps his arms around Hanson and places his hands on the chest of The Forgotten one. Chasity starts to scold John E. from ringside but stops when she realizes Hanson doesn't have boobs. Hanson tries to wiggle free, but with a stunning show of strength, Depth lifts him up from the ground and holds him in the air. He then smiles at the crowd~
Depth: ONE! TWO! THREE!
Crowd & Depth: BOOBY-PLEX!!
~Depth then lifts Hanson high and falls backwards, dropping Hanson on his back and neck with the variation of the German Suplex!! The crowd and Chasity cheer as Depth goes for the cover, but Hanson kicks out before Puff can get in position~
Smith: Hanson thankfully kicks out of the........ variant of the German Suplex.
Hood: Why thankfully?
Smith: My journalistic integrity could stand it if someone won with a move so vulgar.
Hood: Oh, quit being such a pansy and enjoy the match. Depth is putting on his best performance ever!
Smith: I will not lower my standards...
~Depth tries to drag Hanson to his feet, but gets pushed away by Hanson. Not being denied his attack, Depth moves after Hanson with his hands raised for a double axe handle. Hanson swings a wild right and hits Depth in the stomach. Depth gets the wind knocked out of him as he lowers his arms. Hanson keeps nailing Depth with body blow after body blow, driving the porn sleazeball backwards. Depth gets pushed back into the turnbuckles and tries to cover up from the attack. Chasity tries to get a "JOHN E.!" chant going, but only a handful of people join her. Hanson buries one last brutal punch to Depth's stomach, which doubles him over. Hanson picks Depth up and sits him on the top turnbuckle~
Smith: Depth is in trouble here!
Hood: Come on John E.! Get out of there!
~Hanson climbs the ropes and sets up Depth for a Superplex. With both men precariously positioned on the top turnbuckle, Hanson tries to lift up, but Depth hooks his foot under the top rope. Hanson tries again, but is countered once more. Frustrated, Hanson headbutts Depth, staggering the man. He teeters backwards but Hanson balances him lest both men take a tumble. Hanson tries one more time for a Superplex, but suddenly screams in pain! His hands let go of John E. and lower to his..... private area where Depth has a firm grip on his opponent's junk. Chasity yells at him to let go, as does Puff and Hanson! Depth instead takes free arm, wraps it around the shoulders of Hanson, lifts him up while leaping off the top rope, and drops him with a Super Michinaku Driver!!! The fans go wild as Hanson is out and Depth has the wind knocked out of him from the landing!~
Smith: Are you kidding me?!?!
Hood: SUPER CLAM SLAM!! SUPER CLAM SLAM!! It may not have been on a female, but it still counts!!
~Depth slowly crawls over to Hanson and lays across the prone body. The fans and Chasity are going nuts as Puff gets in position!~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~Puff calls for the bell as Chasity gets in the ring cheering and helps John E.to his feet and celebrate his win. More fans then usual cheer Depth, appreciating the effort~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…JOHN E. DEPTH!!!
~Chasity gives Depth a quick hug and let's go before he can cop a feel. They both stand over Hanson and spread out their arms and cry out in victory, along with the fans..~
Almost Everyone : BIBLE CLUB, BAYBAY!!!
Smith: I can't believe that actually happened.
Hood: John E. Depth is now John E. Two Wins! Screw King of the Jobbers. Depth just put the roster on notice with that with. There might be an actual title shot in his future!
Smith: Can we get a drug test for Hood over here, please?
Hood: Fuck you! It's for my glaucoma!
~The crowd is going wild...wilder...even wilder!! They are insane!! We think we spot a man and woman making out...then two women making out...then two men making out! And, finally, we spot some guy making out with a cardboard cutout of Chastity Temple. This place has come unglued~
Smith: These fans are uncontrollable!
Hood: Who knew John E Depth had such a following!
Smith: I think this might have something to do with the Sports room.
Hood: Ohhhhh
~We cut backstage to find Welsh. He buries his face in his hands and says, "Fuck" over and over. Greg tries to comfort him, but it isn't working. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: I hear we have an interview with Logan happening right now!
~Cameras snap backstage to catch AKB standing next to Logan. He's clothed in his signature wrestling gear, while also wearing an uncomfortable smirk.~
AKB: We are moments away from your match with Robert Morbidus. I know things didn't go your way last Monday with Mike Best, how do you hope to turn the tide tonight and get back on a path to success against Robert?
Logan: I hate bats.
~A chill follows down Logan's spine. He tries to shake it off. AKB picks up on Logan's nervous manner.~
AKB: Bats? Are you okay?
Logan: Robert Morbidus wants to suck it to me tonight. No. I'm not okay. This isn't fair. This isn't what I deserve. I'm wrestling a vampire for boudle sakes. What if Robert decides to morph into a giant bat during our match?
AKB: He can't do that.
Logan: Of course he can. I have seen it with my own eyes. Billy, roll the footage.
Hood: Who the fuck is Billy?
~The jumbotron in the arena cuts away from Logan and AKB. A poorly edited video begins to play which shows Robert in the ring, then a still photo of a bat pops up.~
Smith: Dear God.
Hood: I KNEW IT.
~The cameras cut back to a very confident Logan and a very confused AKB.~
Logan: What did I tell you.
AKB: That was just a photograph of a bat randomly spliced into footage of Morbidus wrestling -
~Logan cuts him off.~
Logan: Silence, boy. So yes… am I nervous? You bet your ass I am. However I am going to be the first man in OCW history or maybe even history itself to go one on one with a bat and pin that blood sucking boudle. A lesser man would back out now and have nothing to do with wrestling Robert, but I'm no ordinary man. So, Rob, you go ahead and transform into a big bitch rodent if you want. You flap your little wings and try to escape my sleeper hold before you fly your vampire boudle ass right into Connector City!
~Logan breaks away from a puzzled AKB and the camera fades out.~
Smith: Logan may be forced to eat his words later on this evening.
Hood: I think we need to outlaw flying in all Morbidus matches. Just in case.
Smith: Stop being ridiculous
Hood: How is that ridiculous? The man is a BAT...or at least can be a bat...that gives him a huge advantage over the competition!
Smith: I can 100% guarantee we will never see a human sized bat inside an OCW ring.
Hood: SPOILER ALERT, geez
~The camera cuts to a backstage hallway. Rather than buying herself a ticket again, Erin Gordon has decided to avail herself of one of the base-level perks of having an OCW contract; backstage access. Faint cheering can be heard at the sight of the Oncoming Storm as she looks at one of the monitors set up for the talent to watch the action. It's not until the camera man clears his throat that she notices his presence; stormcloud eyes turn to the lens before a faint nod of greeting is given before she's speaking.-
Erin Gordon: Well ain't it a shame... I thought that Russ Hanson fella was gonna be somethin' better'n what he turned out to be, but I was wrong. It's disappointin', but if I'm bein' honest? I'm used to that feelin' by now. Hell, if you ask me? Wrestling as a whole is built on disappointment. From all the hundreds and hundreds of rookies that never get a second's time on TV to the cheaters that get way with their shit far too often to the promoters that talk out both sides of their mouth--and that's just the tip of the iceberg.
~There's a nod to affirm that point, her jaw setting subtly to the side.~
Erin Gordon: As for OCW in particular, I ain't gonna belabor the points that a lot of folks that've been here longer'n me have ridden to death and back cuz there ain't no need for me to--y'ins at home and in the audience already know the score. The ones that don't got their heads up the asses of the men and women disgracin' this place with their every word and action agree with me, too. That's somethin' I love about you fans... you ain't shy about sharin' what you think. So y'know what? I'm gonna follow your lead.
~For a moment, the crowd cheers a little louder for Erin... not that she can hear it.~
Erin Gordon: It's simple, really; I ain't here to get into a war of words, to try to out-argue brains that're probably sharper'n mine and mouths that sure as shit can run faster. What I am here to do, though, is to fight... and while I'm sure certain motor traps think the speed that they can flap their gums matters? I know from experience that it's damn near impossible to do what when your mouth's wired shut, and believe you me--I can and will knock your waggin' jaw damn near off your skull if that's what I have to do. And judgin' by what's been goin 'round...
~A pause; one corner of her mouth faintly quirks upward.~
Erin Gordon: Looks like the doc's gonna need to get himself a whole buncha wire to put those mouthy bastards back together again. Though if'n you ask me? Super glue'd do the job just as well.
~And with another tip of her head in a nod, the Oncoming Storm turns her attention back to the monitor. The camera cuts to...~
Smith: Erin Gordon with a strong message. I'm a fan.
Hood: I don't know man, she lives on a farm, right? I just can't get behind that.
Smith: Seriously? Farmers are the backbone of this country!
Hood: Yea I'm not really into backbones. I'm more into pretty faces and giant muscles...no homo.
Smith: Well, thanks for the unnecessary clarification. Erin Gordon will likely return to in ring action next week as she hopes to continue her ascension up the OCW ladder.
~We head backstage to the sprawling parking garage of the OCW arena, where OCW backstage correspondent Jones is stationed, looking dapper in his pressed gray suit.~
Jones: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m backstage, awaiting the arrival of the one and only Silver Cyanide! After last week’s exclusive interviews with all three former members of Still F’ing Better, I can’t wait to see what the former friends are going to do to one another tonight. Wait, here someone comes now!
~Jones points toward the garage door, which produces a white 2019 Mustang GT Coupe. The beautiful car zooms into the garage before jolting to a sudden stop in front of Jones and the cameraman. Jones takes a cautious step toward the car, only for it to just as suddenly pull a screeching u-turn in front of him and blast back out of the garage. Jones coughs loudly in the cloud of exhaust and brake dust as the car vanishes.~
Jones: I guess they made a wrong turn?
Paul Paras: Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s thought that when they entered the OCW Arena.
~Jones leaps out of his shoes (not literally—guy is a professional) when he hears the voice of the Minnesota Messiah, Paul Paras, who has quietly materialized behind him, causing the cheers from the fans in attendance to rattle all the way through to the garage. Next to him is his equally enigmatic protege, Raleigh Falkner, whose face displays blissful entertainment at Jones’ plight.~
Jones: Paul! Raleigh! Welcome to Massacre! What brings you here tonight?
Paul Paras: We just happened to be passing through this ethereal plane, and my indigo chakra lit up like a yuletide morning, indicating my material presence was needed to deracinate a revenant with a Napoleonic repression.
~Jones stares blankly at the Zen Master, who stares right back at him matter-of-factly before Raleigh clarifies.~
Raleigh Falkner: He works here, Jones. He’s showing up for work. Would you prefer he didn’t?
Paul Paras: Indeed. Work is intrinsically rewarding for me in my advanced age. And tonight, I’m here to do the intrinsically-rewarding work of kicking Mario Maurako’s ass.
~The crowd bursts to life again as Paras and Raleigh turn to walk into the arena. Behind Paul, Raleigh, and Jones, in the background, the white Mustang returns. It comes to a slow stop and idles at the entrance to the garage. Paul takes a deep breath and motions for Raleigh to go on ahead into the arena, which she obliges. Paras and Jones turn to face the car expectantly...before a horn begins to blare and from behind the Mustang, around the corner of the garage entrance out of view, a Burger King cup flies forward and smacks against the Mustang’s rear window, spilling its contents everywhere. The Mustang peels out and from around the corner appears a late 90s green Pontiac Sunfire with the front right hub cap missing. Hanging out the driver’s window is Silver Cyanide, shouting after the disappearing Mustang.~
Cyanide: STOP BEING SO LOST AND ALSO IN MY WAY.
~Cyanide cranks the wheel of his Sunfire and pulls into the garage, coming to a screeching halt next to Paul and Jones. He opens the door and hops out, dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a white button-up. He shuts the door behind him and goes to march into the arena, completely passing by Paul and Jones. Jones holds up a hand and stammers after him.~
Jones: Cyanide! Wait! We have an interview scheduled!
~Cyanide stops and spins around, then smiles and holds his arms out.~
Cyanide: Jones! My buddy my pal. Didn’t see you there.
~Cyanide steps up to Jones, casually placing his hand on Paul’s chest and giving him a gentle push.~
Cyanide: Pardon me sir, important TV business. So Jones, here’s how things are going to go down tonight--
~Paul puts his arms on his hips and gently clears his throat behind Cyanide, who falls silent and turns to face him.~
Cyanide: Oh, hey Paul.
~Paul gives Cyanide a small nod and Cyanide turns back to Jones and opens his mouth to speak, then turns back to Paul again.~
Cyanide: Do me a big favor and go away forever.
~The crowd lets out an “Ooohh” and a few scattered boos, which Cyanide doesn’t seem aware of in the slightest. Paras smirks and crosses his arms.~
Paul Paras: No worries, Steve. You’ve already established your contempt for facing your problems head-on. You’d rather blindside and cheap shot them. Ironic, isn’t it? Considering how a blindside from Max Kael nearly killed you a few months ago?
Cyanide: Oh I’ve come to the conclusion that the best way to get anything done in OCW anymore is to do it any way you can. Max and Mario had success with that when they snuck attacked me. Sneaked attacked? Ambushed me. So now I don’t see why I shouldn’t keep Mario...and any other members of Perfectly Marvelous who may be hanging around...on their toes from here on out. But hey, I mean, I’m fine with it if you wanna have a little face-punching contest right now.
~Cyanide turns and squares up to Paul as the sound of the fans rises again in the background. Jones raises the mic to speak but doesn’t dare do so.~
Paul Paras: Just another member of Perfectly Marvelous, huh? I see no value in insulting your intelligence, Steve. You know better than anyone the content of my character versus Mario’s. Even though the wrestling world has always known us as a team, you of all people know us as individuals-- and you know that I’m not about sneak attacks and backstabbing. I’m about competition, honor, and results. And not to puff up my own resume, but I think you’re well aware that I’ve been proving my way effective for decades. Unlike Mario, I don’t think you’re the kind of person who just does things because they seem trendy or popular, so I just want to know-- the world wants to know-- why you really saw fit to kick me in the face after all we’ve been through?
~Paras stoically examines his friend’s face for a sign of an honest answer. Cyanide’s face, rather, sticks out its tongue.~
Cyanide: You talk too much, Paul. You like to hear your own voice too much. I guess that’s why you don’t listen to anyone else’s. I kicked you in the face because maybe it would knock some sense into your head. You know who’s number one in the world of Paul Paras? Paul Paras. You know who’s number two in his world? Paul Paras. He’s also numbers three through infinity. You ignoring my pleas about Mario is what has put us into this mess of a situation. But no. You’ve got your little Paul Paras horse blinders on your eyes. And you always have.
Paul Paras: So that’s it then? You attacked Mario to show him what he was becoming. Then you attacked me to show me what Mario had become. Maybe… you’re onto something, my brother. Maybe… it’s time I attacked YOU to show what I’ve become.
~The crowd lets out a shocked cheer as the former best friends appear ready to tear each other apart. Before the two men can come to blows, though, a group of around a dozen tall, muscular men wearing black riot gear step into our camera view, alarming Jones. None of the riot gear men have bi-color hair, Samoan tattoos, or appeared at wrestling shows in Las Vegas this past weekend, thanks for asking. Cyanide and Paras turn toward the interruption simultaneously, neither looking particularly thrilled or impressed by the wall of humanity. Cyanide ignores them and opens up his mouth to speak, but before he can, one of the men steps forward and unfurls a paper scroll.~
Riot Guy: Hear ye, hear ye. On behalf of the Royal Family of Maurako Island, we, the Maurako Island Border Patrol, have been assigned this post to prevent the interlopers Paul Paras and Silver Cyanide from passing through the OCW Arena doors on this evening. The King has a very important ceremony to conduct, and proper decorum MUST be maintained without interruption.
Jones: Wait, so you’re saying Paul and Cyanide aren’t allowed in the arena tonight?
~The Border Patrol guard eyes Jones annoyedly before clearing his throat and returning to the scroll.~
Riot Guy: Allow me to repeat the words of the King! On behalf of the Royal Family of…
*SMACK!!!!*
~The guard’s large body hits the floor with a THUD, kicking up a puff of the Mustang’s brake dust in the process. Paul Paras slowly lowers his fist, regaining his center easily, as if he hadn’t just decked a guy in the face, and returns his eyes to Cyanide.~
Paul Paras: As you were saying?
Cyanide: I was saying...the reason the eMpire exists is because you wouldn’t help me stop it. So what do--
~To the side, The Stooge with the Scroll slowly rises to his feet, eyes crossed, nose bloody. He sways a little bit and raises the scroll again.~
Riot Guy: ...of Maurago Island, we, the Maraugo Island Border Batrol...hab been…
~Cyanide sighs and socks Riot Guy in the nose again. He drops like a sack of gravity. Paras picks up the rest of Cyanide’s thought.~
Paul Paras: ...Or perhaps the eMpire exists because you and Mario were too busy brawling with each other to actually help each other succeed? Either way, what do you say we both find our dear friend Mario and correct that particular error? And, once Mario’s been put out of his misery, why don’t you and I finally see who the best two-time OCW Champion really is… and who really should just go away forever. After all these years, you and I have never once stood on opposite sides of the ring. I say there’s no time like the present. We have a Pay-Per-View in a few weeks, after all.
~Cyanide appears to ponder Paul’s idea, kicking Riot Guy on the ground to help jar his thoughts.~
Cyanide: You know...that sounds like fun. We all think we are the best. We’ve all competed together. Why not find out once and for all who is, in fact, the best?
Paul Paras: Then I’ll see you both in Texas. ...If you both make it there.
~Paras makes the last statement with perfect nonchalance, causing Jones’ eyes to grow wide. Paras turns around and marches away from the Border Patrol wall, leaving Jones and Cyanide behind.~
Cyanide: What a big idiot.
~Cyanide turns to walk into the arena and runs right into the chest of a seven-foot-tall Maurako border patrol guard. He looks down the line of men blocking his way and sighs, then stomps back to his Sunfire as we head back out to ringside.~
Smith: Is it official? Are we really getting IT?
Hood: A match twenty years in the making! Holy shit
Smith: Mario, Paul, and Cyanide...
Hood: Three of the greatest in OCW history. That...would be fucking incredible.
Smith: Indeed. I guess we'll have to wait on official word from our egomaniacal GM...but, in the meantime, I think it's safe to assume this is where we're headed. Mario Maurako against Paul Paras against Silver Cyanide at Not Safe For Work!
Hood: Gonna need lots of tissues for this one...and I ain't talking tears.
Smith: Gross. Up next we have Duce Jones returning to the ring to face...Great Scott!
|
|
Singles Match
Duce Jones (2-2) vs. GREAT SCOTT (0-1)
~The fans are counting all their MONEIS after the ginormous upset previously witnessed. John E Depth, while not a wealthy man, has made other people rich. A string of words magically appear across the OCWTron~
~GREAT SCOTT COMES DOWN TO THE RING WITH HIS CHAMPIONSHIP BELT AND A BEAR WHO IS GREAT NAMED GREAT BEAR AND THEY ARE LISTENING TO THE WHOLE CROWD CHEER AND THEN THEY GET INTO THE RING AND THE BEAR DOES A COOL DANCE AND GREAT SCOTT IS VERY OVER~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…GREAT SCOTT
~German Techno (because why not) blares throughout the OCW Arena! Fans look around, confused. They are not german. THE BEAR throws on a pair of GREAT shades and begins to dance around like a maniac. Great Scott paces around the ring…the party portion of his mullet blowing along a manufactured breeze. The fans start to get into it…GREAT SCOTT! GREAT SCOTT! The day the music died is…apparently, today. The music STOPS…much to the chagrin of the audience~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The fans are buzzing, but soon turn to a mixed reaction as a voice begins to speak through the PA system.~
“And the whole world loves it when you sing the blues… Da. Da.. Da. Da. Da.. Da….”
~The opening sounds of “Godspeed” by Don Trip begins to play as the lights inside of the arena turn a crimson hue color, soon the stage filling up with smoke. After about a minute of waiting, Duce Jones slowly emerge through the fog, mixed emotions coming from the crowd~
Belvedere: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds! From Memphis, Tennessee… DUCE JONES!
~Slowly making his way towards the ring, Jones ignores the cheers and jeers that the fans are giving, as he soon makes it to ringside. Climbing onto the apron, Duce goes to the corner to his right, climbing onto the second rope and peering out into the crowd. Finally done, he jumps over the top rope, landing inside of the ring and removes his hooded vest as he prepares for action~
Smith: Duce Jones BACK in an OCW ring!
Hood: Should we call this his second appearance?
Smith: No, that would be inaccurate.
Hood: Fuck off, it was a reference to #2…ya know, shit!
Smith: I refuse to get pulled into this scatological line of conversation.
~Belvedere exits. The bell rings~
Smith: Duce Jones defeated Trav Morgan a few weeks ago in the main event of Massacre. Tonight he looks to extend his winning streak.
Hood: Ya know, if you think about it…Duce could be really, really good. His only losses are to Bifford and we all know how good Bifford is.
Smith: Sadly, we do
~The DANCING BEAR flips over the top rope, sticking the landing on the outside. He is an athletic bear. Great Scott throws his title over the top rope. The Bear CATCHES the belt with one hand. He is also a highly coordinated bear. Duce, leaning in the corner, takes all of this in, shaking his head~
Smith: Duce has run into some unfortunate monetary stress…he was suspended by a riv
Hood: LESSER
Smith: We’ll meet in the middle. He was suspeneded by aNOTHER wrestling organization, stifling his income. That, combined with a struggling venture into running an independent promotion with his father has left Duce with lighter pockets.
Hood: That’s okay…he’s in OCW now. All he has to do is bet on John E Depth and his financial concerns will be put to rest.
Smith: A little late for that advice, Hood.
~Great Scott starts to clap his hands. The fans follow suit. He stomps around the ring, banging his head to and fro. Duce almost rolls his eyes. Has it really come down to THIS?! He slowly emerges from the corner. Great Scott STOPS. He turns to Duce and points at the heralded competitor. Duce’s brow furrows~
Smith: Great Scott is fired up.
Hood: Especially for a guy who thinks he’s about to tussle with literal shit.
Smith: Yea, I…
Hood: Then again, some people are into that sorta stuff. I mean, Two Girls One Cup wasn’t as bad as people made it out to be.
Smith: What on Earth are you talking about?
Hood: Huh? What? Man that video was fucking disgusting! LET’S GO GREAT SCOTT
~Great Scott raises his arms like he’s ready to lock up. Duce, being a chill guy, decides to give Scott what he wants. He lunges forward for a lock up. But Great Scott DODGES Duce!! Scott runs in place, showing off. The Dancing Bear also runs in place on the outside, with more pomp. The belt draped over his shoulder. Duce looks at the mat, his jaw tightens~
Smith: Duce is a fair guy..he’s a nice guy…but, like most competitors, he does not want to be made to look a fool.
Hood: Yea man you never mock a guy who is on HARD TIMES. Not the smartest move, boyo.
Smith: Boyo?
Hood: I don’t know, it just felt right.
~Great Scott spins around and points at Duce. The Bear does the same…in stereo! It’s as though these two are bonded by something GREATER than a wrestling entrance. Duce slowly tuns around. He nods his head and repeats the word “Okay.” It’s clear the man is about to lose it~
Smith: It’s hard to combat a man the likes of Great Scott. He just so….so…
Hood: GREAT?
Smith: Not the word I was seeking.
Hood: Hold on, let me get a thesaurus so we can find a synonym for GREAT
Smith: Don’t waste your time.
~Great Scott raises his arms, much like before…looking for a lock up. OR IS HE? Duce repeats the previous formula…only this time, before Scott has a chance to dodge…Duce throws a kick into Scott’s guts!! The crowd boos, slightly. They don’t dislike Duce…they were just having fun. Duce, however, isn’t here to have fun…he’s here to WIN and make some fucking money. Duce slams a forearm into Scott’s back!! Scott arches his back and walks around, wincing in pain. The bear continues to dance outside the ring…he takes the title and begins to swing it around in a very playful manner~
Smith: Duce is crashing Scott’s party!
Hood: At least the BEAR is having a good time.
Smith: I think having a good time is embedded within that creature’s DNA.
Hood: That or he’s on some strong medication.
~Duce drills Scott in the back with a knee lift. Scott stumbles front first into a corner. Duce looks down at his knee, working it in and out. It’s much better but still not 100%. He catches the BEAR in his peripheral and throws a sidekick through the ropes, smacking THE BEAR in the head. The BEAR falls to the floor…the fans boo~
Smith: Playtime is over, according to Duce Jones.
Hood: These fans can boo all they like. Duce is on a mission…he’s already conquered one promotion, twice. He’s here to do the same!
Smith: He’s got the ability to reach the top of OCW…something his father, sadly, was unable to achieve.
Hood: Well he’s got time to make his pops proud.
~Duce flies into view with a huge splash on Scott!! Scott is SQUASHED in the corner. Duce hoists GREAT SCOTT onto his shoulder…Scott’s face stares into the bright lights of the OCW Arena. Duce SLAMS him down with an inverted powerslam!!! Scott is front first on the mat, motionless. Duce pops back to his feet, looking strong~
Smith: The night is taking a turn to negative town for GREAT SCOTT
Hood: At least he’s got that 41st story to look forward to.
Smith: Yes, the small things in life hold us together in between big moments.
Hood: Gay
~Duce grabs the party end of Scott’s mullet, ripping him from the canvas. He forces Scott to his feet. He locks up with a dazed Scott. He releases after forcing Scott to lock up. He delivers a vicious bitch slap across Scott’s face. He grabs both of Scott’s arms and SMASHES him with a ripcord headbutt. Scott’s knees go weak. Duce, holding onto Scott’s arms begins to deliver a cavalcade of knee strikes into Scott’s chest and head. One after the other after the other after the other after the other…~
Smith: This is BRUTAL
Hood: Duce is going to reinjure that knee if he isn’t careful.
Smith: Good point!
~We see Duce wince after delivering the more recent knee strikes. He thows Scott to the ground and slightly limps over, making the cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…DUCE JONES!!!!!
Smith: Duce with a decisive win…once he waded through all the foolishness.
Hood: Poor GREAT SCOTT
Smith: Yea well at least that belt he has wasn’t up for grabs.
Hood: What belt is that, by the way?
Smith: I have no idea…don’t really care, to be honest.
Hood: The GREAT Title? A Delorian Championship? I KNEED to know!
Smith: Calm down, Hood.
~Duce rolls out of the ring, foregoing a hand raise. He shows a slight limp upon reaching his feet, outside. But he quickly covers it up and ascends the ramp, ready to hit the showers and receive his pay for a night of forced comedy…and victory~
Smith: Duce Jones looking strong tonight…rumors are swirling he’s got another date with Bifford on the horizon.
Hood: Bifford never met a dead horse he didn’t want to beat.
Smith: Indeed
~ We cut backstage at the OCW arena to a shot over the shoulder of "The Lady Killer", Evin Empire, dressed in business casual attire as he makes his way down the hallway toward his locker room. He switches his bag from one shoulder to the other as he rounds a corner at full stride, almost bowling over an unsuspecting Who're as he does. ~
Evin: God DAMN, woman! What are you trying to do, get somebody killed? This is LITERALLY the worst place in this hallway to stand! There's not even anybody around...no locker rooms within sight...what the hell are you DOING here, anyway!?
~ Who're stares silently at the floor as the camera pans out to reveal a well-dressed older man walking up behind Evin, a briefcase in hand and a pair of bifocals balancing on the end of his nose. ~
???: Excuse me, Sir...I was passing by and I couldn't help but overhear your conversation here...were you just being verbally abusive to this young lady? Is this man intimidating you, Ma'am?
~ Evin looks the man up and down with a sideways glare, glancing to Who're and then back at the man.~
Evin: Buddy, you're about to find OUT what verbal abuse is if you don't get your mind right. Why don't you just waddle on down to wherever it is you were going and stop harassing the neighborhood kids, eh gramps? This conversation doesn't concern you...
???: Oh, that's where you're mistaken, Mr. Empire, I'm very concerned...very concerned, indeed...
~ The man rests his laptop on one arm, pops it open, and pulls out a business card which he hands to Evin. ~
Evin: Walter...Robinowitz. Robinowitz..is that-
Walter: Jewish? Yes.
Evin: That's...not what I was going to ask..
Walter: I represent OCW as part of their legal team.
Evin: Yes, you said that.
Walter: I did? When?
Evin: Never mind. Well, Mr. Robinowitz, I'm sure you're a swell guy and all, but I'm a pretty busy man...in case you haven't heard, I have a Craze Championship match tonight, so if you'll excuse me, I need to get ready...
~ Evin turns to continue down the hallway but is stopped by the man's hand landing on his shoulder. Evin looks down at the hand, slowly rests his bag on the ground, and turns to face the man with a slightly more serious expression on his face this time. ~
Walter: Mr. Empire, I represent OCW's legal team as lead DEFENSE counsel. I specialize in defending gender discrimination and sexism suits brought against this company, and word around the water cooler is that you're becoming QUITE a liability to us. I'm here to keep an eye on things tonight and make sure you don't get out of line..
Evin: Excuse me? a LIABILITY?! And how did you hear that, exactly? Did Andrea Hernandez put you up to this!?
Walter: Our offices have been inundated with calls over the past week by a large number of OCW fans...many on behalf of the Craze Champion, herself...claiming RAMPANT misogyny and sexism on your behalf. Are you trying to tell me that they are ALL lying as part of some grand consipiracy against you?
Evin: What I'm telling you is that you got it all twisted, Mr. Robeenabitch...
Walter: That's RobinoWITZ...
Evin: Whatever. Look, you can believe some crazed social justice warriors trying to smear the good name of Evin Empire, or you can go with the FACTS, and the FACTS demonstrate that I am the most ant-sexist person in this locker room...isn't that right, Who're?
~ Walter's eyebrows shoot to the ceiling as he once again pops open his briefcase, this time taking out a clipboard and scribbling a few notes on the attached piece of paper. ~
Evin: No, I wasn't calling her...that's actually her...ah, SHIT!
Walter: Mr. Empire, is it true that in the past number of weeks, you have exhibited acts of wanton violence against MULTIPLE female members of the roster?
Evin: Well...I don't know about WANTON, but...
Walter: Is it not also true that you plan to do the SAME tonight?
Evin: Listen, Walt...peep game. This is professional wrestling, do you get that? It's a contact sport...hand-to-hand combat...athletic competition. I don't discriminate, I eliminate, so like I told the soon-to-be FORMER Craze Champion 'herself', if you have a problem with the opponents I've been facing, you need to be talking to your boss, not ME. With guys like Chad Vargas and Bob Grenier walking around, I'm the LAST guy you should be concerned with..
~ Evin picks his bag up and throws it back over his shoulder before turning and walking out of view of the camera.~
Walter: I'll be the one to make that decision, Mr. Empire. See you out there...
~ Who're finally lifts her head as she and Walter make eye contact, sharing a sly smile as the scene cuts back inside the OCW arena. ~
Smith: It seems as though we're finally doing something to clean up the misogyny that has corrupted this company for far too long!
Hood: Ah yes, let's remove all fun from this industry because some baby got their feelings hurt.
Smith: Checks and balances are never a bad thing, Hood. Deangelo, obviously, isn't enough to keep this roster contained.
Hood: Why keep the roster contained? Remember when our intro was the asylum? Or hell, that other song...remember when we REWARDED out of control, borderline psychotic behavior? Those were the days, my friend.
Smith: With Mike Best as our champion and Bifford running around it seems as though we still reward bad behavior.
Hood: Alright!
Smith: Anyway, Evin Empire will face Andrea Hernandez later tonight for the Craze Championship.
Hood: Time for another Empire to rise!
~"Fuck Was I" by Jenny Owens begins playing and the curtain swings to the side as Ehud of Moab makes his way quickly to the ring, sitting on the edge of cart designed to move equipment, being pushed by an OCW stagehand.~
Smith: Well, this was certainly a good idea someone came up with...
Hood: Where's this cart been the last few weeks?
~The cart reaches ringside and goes past a woman in the front row who is particularly unattractive. Ehud notices the woman and reacts in disgust before climbing off the cart right at the ring steps. He walks up into the ring and slowly maneuvers himself through the ropes. The fans applaud the old man graciously and some chants of "EHUD" are heard.~
Smith: Say what you will about OCW's oldest performer... the fans love him.
Hood: The fans are idiots.
~The stagehand who dragged the cart down to the ring hands Ehud a microphone and he smiles as he looks around at the crowd.~
Ehud: It has been great entertaining you all over the years... I didn't think I had any more matches in me when Bifford called me...
~The fans boo the mention of Bifford.~
Ehud: And I didn't have too many wins in me... but it was an adventure nonetheless. But all good adventures need to come to an end..
~The fans boo Ehud's mentioning a very late retirement. A segment of the crowd starts chanting "ONE MORE MATCH"~
Ehud: Nah guys... It's over. I had two great shots to get a win and Max Whateverhisnamewas and Vinny Langestine showed me that I don't have what it takes to make it in OCW anymore... That's okay. I had my run. Now it's time for me to step aside and let the younger guys do their thing.
~Ehud turns to look into the crowd as there is commotion at ringside. The extremely ugly woman from earlier has removed her wig and is in fact a man. The man jumps over the security rail and heads toward the ring. An OCW security guard runs at the man, but he drops the security guard with a punch and rolls under the bottom rope. He stands up and looks right at Ehud. The man looks like former Canadian Prime Minister Jean Chretien when he was about 60 years old. The man motions for Ehud to hand him the microphone.~
Ehud: Alright, youngster, here you go...
~Ehud hands the microphone to the man.~
Hood: Youngster? That man is in his 60s.
Smith: To Ehud, that's young... that man looks a lot like my.. my.... one of my doctors...
Hood: Fuckin' Ehud...
The Proctologist: Ehud of Moab, 60 years ago you had an affair with a young woman named Elizabeth... she was my mother. I am your son.
Hood: Ehud got lucky! 60 years ago!
Smith: That man... I think.. I think he is one of my doctors...
The Proctologist: Ehud... I've made a very good living as a doctor...
Hood: Shit he is one of your doctor's...
Smith: Ugh.... can we not talk about this?
The Proctologist: My mother named me Ehud Gray Jr... but I had my name legally changed years ago to put behind the pain that you weren't in my life... I had my name legally changed to THE PROCTOLOGIST... First name THE, last name PROCTOLOGIST. I've made a good living helping people with their ANAL PROBLEMS... but now I'm ready to be a PAIN IN THE ASS of ALL OF OCW by becoming its newest and most up and coming wrestler....
~Ehud nods to his son and looks around to try to get the crowd to cheer for him. The crowd seems pretty damn hesitant.~
The Proctologist: The thing about me, Ehud, is that I'm going to win my matches... and then when my opponent is down after the match, then I'll make sure to give him a good examination!
~Ehud's son begins doing hand movements to show an anal examination. Ehud looks at him, a bit creeped out, but also a bit impressed.~
Hood: hahahhahhaa.... Smiiiiiithh....... hhahahahhahahaha... he's your BUTT DOCTOR!
Smith: It was a colon problem.. but...
Hood: HAHAHAHAHA! You said butt.... HAHAHHAHAHAA!
The Proctologist: Anyway... I hope to debut next week or soon after.. but tonight is about you and about celebrating Ehud of Moab... Thank you for your service to this country and for your entertaining matches.
~Dropping the microphone, THE PROCTOLOGIST claps for Ehud as he backs out of the ring. Stopping for a moment to wave at Smith before heading up the main aisle, he leaves his father alone in the ring.~
Hood: He waved at you... this is just too good... and now he's gonna be around all the time...
Smith: Yeah that's not.. not something I'm very comfortable with.
~Ehud stands in the ring taking in all of the applause. He waves to the fans and then begins crawling through the ropes. "Fuck Was I" by Jenny Owens begins playing as Ehud waves to the fans who cheer him wildly. The OCW stagehand walks over with the cart to try to get Ehud on it, but Ehud waves him of and begins walking up the aisle.~
Hood: Oh fuck no... we're going to have to wait while Ehud leaves on foot...
Smith: Let him enjoy this... this is his swan-song...
~Ehud begins the trek up the aisle, stopping to slap the hands of fans and even sign a few autographs.~
Hood: So... Smith... tell us more about why you needed to go to Ehud's son THE BUTT DOCTOR..
Smith: Well it was only four appointments...
Hood: FOUR APPOINTMENTS!?
Smith: Oh for the love of... just... let's not discuss this...
~Ehud gets to about the halfway point down the aisle when his music stops. Gangsta's Paradise by Coolio starts playing and Bifford walks down the aisle toward Ehud.~
Hood: BIFFORD!!!
Smith: Well, I suppose it's only fitting that Ehud's one-time tag team partner would come out to congratulate him and wish him well...
~Bifford walks right up to Ehud and without a word kicks him in the stomach, sets him up, and gives him The Biff End jumping piledriver right there in the aisle. Getting back to his feet he grabs the old man and lifts him easily, tossing him off the stage like a bag of trash. Ehud goes flying and lands in what appears to be a large-padded area covered with a tarp - but it's still pretty uncomfortable to watch given his age. Bifford doesn't look to see if the old man is okay and just heads down to the ring with a determined stride. The fans boo him with great hatred.~
Hood: YES! Bifford TAKING OUT THE TRASH!
Smith: That was totally uncalled for... Ehud was enjoying one last moment with the fans and this idiot bully just comes out and destroys him.
Hood: GO PILEDRIVE HIM AGAIN, BIFF!
~Sliding under the bottom rope, Bifford sees the microphone on the mat, but remembers it was THE PROCTOLOGIST who handled it last. He kicks it out of the ring and signals for the stagehands with Ehud's cart to bring him a new one. The stagehand does so and Bifford looks around the arena.~
Bifford: I'm glad that has-been is gone... and I'm glad I kicked his ass. Just like I'm glad I kicked Duce Jones's father's ass a few decades ago... now I'm told this idiot Duce still wants to fight me - so I'm down. In fact, I'm down to fight you every week until we are old men about Ehud's age, Duce. I will fight you next week, the week after that, at the next Pay Per View, at every Pay Per View.... Duce.. I don't get tired of beating the same person over and over and over again... whether it's that loser Mario and me pinning him three times clean in the middle, or Dangerous Dan and me pinning him 12 times clean in the middle of the ring - it NEVER GETS OLD FOR ME.
~The fans boo Bifford viciously.~
Bifford: And you idiot fans are going to watch me beat Duce again and again and again... and you're going to PAY TO WATCH IT...
~Bifford laughs as the fans boo him louder.~
Bifford: Hey Duce... watch what just happened to Ehud... now, you might want to think twice about ever bringing your good ol' dad around, because I have a piledriver with his name on it. And I've got at least 10 with your name on it, son. To quote a great wrestler, "Fuck you Duce Jones. Your name sounds like poop."
~Dropping the microphone, Bifford slides under the bottom rope and begins heading up the aisle. He passes the area where he tossed Ehud and finds EMTs strapping Ehud to a stretcher. He motions for the camera to come close to get him with Ehud on the stretcher behind him and then shouts "That's gonna be you soon, Duce!" with no microphone, but the message gets across.~
Smith: Wow...that's a lot to digest.
Hood: Don't worry, if your stomach starts to ache you can just go visit your doctor backstage
Smith: Ugh...it appears as though we have a new wrestler and his name is The Proctologist. He's also Ehud's son.
Hood: BASTARD son
Smith: Ehud is officially retired.
Hood: Let's hope he enjoys those one and a half years of retirement.
Smith: And Bifford wants a match with Duce Jones at Not Safe For Work!
Hood: If Duce knows what's good for him he'll stay the hell away from Bifford. IT'S A TRAP
Smith: I'd like to see Duce shut that bully up...for Dan, for Mario...for Krayzie.
Hood: Yea and I'd like to see your mom's tits but shit just isn't in the cards sometimes.
Smith: I've had just about enough of your besmirching! Let's cut backstage before our next match so I can calm down...
~Marcus Welsh works at his desk. Without even a knock, Mack comes walking in with a folder in hand~
Welsh: Ever heard of knocking?
Mack: I have. Sounds exhausting.
~Mack drops the folder down on the desk, on top of whatever Welsh was working on~
Welsh: What's this?
Mack: I've been asking around. This a compilation of the questions and concerns that your roster currently has.
~Welsh opens the folder, simply out of curiosity~
Welsh: Hm... The entire roster wants a fresh bottle of whiskey and cold beer placed in their dressing room every day?
Mack: I speak for the people.
Welsh: Right...
~Welsh flips the page and continues to read~
Welsh: You understand what this job is, right?
Mack: I do.
Welsh: Then why does it say here that you demand a title match?
Mack: It's what the roster wants, Marcus. Who am I to judge?
~Welsh shuts the folder~
Welsh: It's Mr. Welsh, to you.
Mack: Nah. We're pretty much on the same level now. We can go informal. See you around, Marcus.
~Mack turns and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him~
Welsh: Fuckin old alcoholic mother fuc -
Greg: MARCUS!
Marcus Welsh: Damnit, Greg! None of that swear jar bullshit...not tonight!
~Greg stands in the doorway, suddenly perplexed~
Marcus Welsh: Or...hello, Greg, how are you? What is it?
Greg: Have you been soiling the air with your potty mouth in my absence?
Marcus Welsh: Nah. Just...dealing with stuff.
Greg: Well that's a relief. Anyway, I'm here because the BRINKS people want to know where to deliver the cash. They need you to sign for it. The line at the pay window is getting antsy.
Marcus Welsh: Shit. I don't know how long I can keep this from Buffett. He's going to kill me when he finds out those odds weren't pulled down mid week.
Greg: Marcus?
Marcus Welsh: Yea, yea, I'm coming.
~Marcus follows Greg out of his office leaving Mack's list of demands behind. We also see, underneath requests "All Picnics BANNED". We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Welsh is having a rough night. First Lilith...then Depth...now Mack
Hood: It's a good thing Buffett doesn't watch the show...otherwise Marcus would be exposed.
Smith: I think our laid back owner might feel a bit of anxiety when he receives a call from accounting.
Hood: Yea, you can't hide THAT much money from a man who enjoys wealth.
Smith: Nope, he's got some explaining to do...unless he can stumble into a quick fix. Anyway, it's time for our next match...Lilith is set to square off against the returning Legion. Let's head down to ringside!
|
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Singles Match
the Queenslayer Legion (4-2) vs. Lilith (1-1)
~“Last Friday Night” by Katy Perry is playing throughout the OCW Arena PA for – reasons. Fans look around kind of angrily…it’s not Friday, NOT EVEN CLOSE. Belvedere clears his throat forcing the music to come to a screeching halt!! The crowd goes wild. He’s never been more over~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The house lights go down as colorful lights start flashing all around the area. "Imaginary" by Evanescence begins to play, as Lilith appears at the top of the entrance ramp. She is wearing a black miniskirt, burgundy leggings, an extremely tight low cut tank top and black leather heeled ankle boots. Lilith proceeds to skips down to the ring holding a giant lollypop in one hand and a teddy bear in the other. The crowd look on confused but begin to boo her despite the fact that she looks so cheerful~
Belvedere: From Los Angeles, California… weighing in at 142 pounds.... she is LILITH!!!
~Lilith eventually reaches the ring and locates a child sitting front row, she passes him her giant lollypop. Lilith then skips around the outside of the ring, placing her teddy bear on the turnbuckle and bounces up onto the ring apron, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses to them all. She climbs through the ropes still smiling and waving to everyone whilst waiting for her opponent~
Smith: Lilith looking to notch her second win here in OCW.
Hood: Who’s she facing?
Smith: The Queenslayer!
Hood: GERT DERM SERN
Smith: It has been awhile since Legion appeared inside an OCW ring.
Hood: Trimming some fat.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The sound of a clock counting down hits the P.A. system and there is a mixed reaction from the fans as the arena is plunged into darkness. As the clock winds down, the image of a novelty snow globe comes up on the big screen. It’s fashioned like a snow globe, except it looks as though there is a desert sandstorm going on within! Being buried by layers upon layers of sand, it seems as though a miniature Starlight is in a deep slumber..~
Belvedere: “Coming to us from AOKIGAHARA, JAPAN..”
~The desert snow globe shatters loudly as the main part of the song kicks in. The Legion inside is wide awake with purpose. Like a true ronin, the miniature Legion from the globe is up to her feet and ready for action, and she becomes full size in front of the eyes of the fans on the big screen. The fans cheer as the house lights fade back in, accompanied by neon blue searchlights emanating from the side of the ramp, and they cheer even louder as the curtains are thrown back and Starlight appears on the entrance ramp with a confident, knowing smile..~
Belvedere: “Standing at FIVE FOOT THREE INCHES tall and weighing in tonight at ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SEVEN POUNDS! REPRESENTING JAPAN”
[Violin drop]
~Legion makes her way down the ramp at the same pace as the music, reaching ringside and climbing the steps before leaping majestically over the top rope and throwing up her trademark taunt to another cheer..~
Belvedere: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is THE QueenSlayer, the Last Ronin Legion
Smith: Legion making her return to an OCW ring!
Hood: I forgot she was still employed, to be honest.
Smith: She skipped the Block Party tournament which, sadly, left her with nothing to do during the previous PPV period.
Hood: Sounds like she makes bad decisions.
~The bell rings. Belvedere exits~
Smith: And here we go!! Lilith, alongside Logan, pushed the eMpire to their limits one week ago! Can she keep the momentum she’s built going with a win against Legion?
Hood: You’d like to think so…Lilith and Logan look like stars in the making. Legion is, well…she’s Legion.
Smith: Not that there’s anything wrong with that!
~Legion ROARS at Lilith. Lilith, still steaming from her encounter with Welsh earlier, is having none of this shit. She charges at Legion and spears right through the Queenslayer!!! The crowd pops for the impact! Lilith secures a full mout and begins to rain blow after blow into Legion’s head. Legion does her best to cover up…but a few sneak through, forcing her head to bounce off the mat. Her resolve weakens…she’s about to get her ass kicked~
Smith: Oh my gosh! Lilith is trying to MURDER Legion!
Hood: Welsh pissed her off earlier this evening by threatening Sarah. Lilith isn’t the most stable individual under normal circumstances…take those away and, well, yea..here you go.
Smith: Legion was all set for a triumphant return…but it’s looking very bleak right now.
~Legion is now unprotected. Lilith’s punches slam right into her face!! Her head is bouncing off the canvas until her neck loses its strength. Lilith’s punches slam into an unprotected face, wedged against the mat. They make gross sounds. Blood starts to fly. It’s getting nasty. Scruff sees the destruction and rushes to call for the bell. It rings, mercifully~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the winner of this match via ref stoppage…LILITH!!!!!
Smith: Get her off Legion!
Hood: She’s going to murder Legion!
Smith: This is grotesque…we need help out here!
~Scruff tries to remove Lilith, but she’s too strong. He waves toward the back. OCW Security rushes the ring, sliding in and grabbing a very angry, enraged Lilith. They drag her off of Legion. Our cameras turn away, to avoid showing what’s become of Legion’s face. The Knife Man hits the ring. He looks down at Legion and nearly faints…his sharp as fuck knife almost impaling the canvas. Lilith is forced through the ropes. Several security members grab and force her up the ramp. She tries fighting them off~
Smith: Legion is hurt, badly.
Hood: I don’t’ know what’s more damaged…Legion’s face or Lilith’s brain.
~Lilith is dragged up the ramp and to the back~
Smith: Lilith wasn’t about wrestling tonight…she was about hurting someone. Sadly, Legion was that unlucky soul. Let’s hope Legion is okay.
Hood: Meh, she undergoes facial reconstruction once every 3-4 weeks. I’m sure she was due for a new look.
Smith: I guess…Marcus Welsh can’t be pleased, I know that much. We’ll have to see how this impacts his relationship with Lilith AND Sarah Twilight moving forward.
Shatter me!
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me
~A low, solo candle illuminates a dark room. It seems very ominous, and scary. A hooded figure steps forward~
Hooded Figure: OCW has been warned we were coming. They were warned. They had chances. But now we're here... And...
~Some of the smoke floats into the Hooded Figures mouth. He involuntarily begins to cough~
Hooded Figure: Dammit... Man...
~He steps forward and blows the candle out. We sit in pitch black darkness for a moment, listening to the man cough. Once he stops...~
Hooded Figure: Turn the light on.
~The lights come on: The Uber Man... Er... Ubertaker's dressing room. The Ministry of Parkness is all there. Shootah is standing by the lightswitch, looking concerned~
Ubertaker: Who picked that candle? That candle was not the one I wanted!
Tony the Spider: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA
Ubertaker: Tony... Come on, man.
Vickers: I picked the candle out, your darkness. I apologize. It came in a multi-colored pack at a discounted price. I couldn't pass up a deal like that!
~The Ubertaker nods~
Ubertaker: I can't blame you. You are forgiven, servant.
Vickers: Thank you! Thank you so much, your unholiness! I wouldn't want you to punish me!
Ubertaker: Oh come on, you know I love you.
~Ubertaker looks at the camera, realizing they're still being watched~
Ubertaker: I mean... DON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!
Vickers: Oh my god...
~Vickers retreats to the other side of the dressing room~
Ubertaker: Let it be known, OCW. The Ministry of Parkness is here and we're...
Tony the Spider: QUEER!!!
Ubertaker: No, dammit, Tony!
~Uber looks at the camera~
Ubertaker: Not that there's anything wrong with that...
~Uber looks serious again~
Ubertaker: We're here to make a dent! What first, you ask? Good question. We will conquer the Tag Title division!
JAM G: Yeah, we will!
Ubertaker: Oh...
~He puts a hand on JAM G's shoulder~
Ubertaker: It's actually going to be me and Tony.
JAM G: But... But we've fought together before.
Ubertaker: That was the Uber Man. Another person. A lifetime ago. Now, the Ubertaker will lead Tony the Spider to take the Tag Titles from whoever may hold them!
JAM G: Oh... Okay...
~JAM G becomes super upset about this news. Ubertaker looks guilty. He leans in and whispers~
Ubertaker: We'll use the Free Bird rule. So you're in too.
~JAM G's face lights up. Ubertaker smiles, but immediately drops it to put his serious face back on~
Ubertaker: And that's that, servant!
~He turns back to the camera~
Ubertaker: If it's Team Atari, the Dravers, Perfectly Marvous, the New Age Outlaws, Bonnie and Clyde, Beavis and Butthead, Joanie and Chachi, IT DOESN'T MATTER! We're coming for you! And we will rule this fed!
~He lets out an evil laugh. Then another. Tony the Spider joins in. Then Shootah. Then JAM G. Then Deangelo Vickers. They continue with their evil laugh as we cut back to ringside~
Smith: The tag division just got...bigger?
Hood: That's fair. What's also fair is claiming that The Ministry of Parkness is the second most 'out there' team in OCW...right behind the champs.
Smith: Good luck to the Ministry of Parkness. I hope they find the success they crave within the tag division.
Hood: And, hey, if not...at least we'll get to watch them get their asses beat on a regular basis. WIN-WIN!
~King of the World by War*Hall hits and Martino Maurako steps out onto the stage wearing a suit of armor with no helmet on. Martino leads a long line of ‘Citizens of the eMpire’ to the ring. The citizens are three wide and take up the entire ramp. Martino leads them all the way down to the ring where he stops, but the line of people continues.~
Smith: What is going on here?
Hood: It seems like King Mario has brought the entire island with him tonight.
Smith: What a cowardly King he is!
Hood: You better watch your mouth, King Mario might cut your tongue out!
~The ring is now surrounded by citizens from Maurako Island, as four more people emerge carrying a sedan chair complete with gold and purple throne. King Mario Maurako sits upon the throne and waves to fans as they boo the king. Martino assists the four commoners into lowering the sedan chair to the ground. Mario stands from his throne and removes a sword from its sheath and raises it into the air, then slowly lowers it and points to the ring with it. The sea of humanity standing between King Mario and the ring then splits and allows King Mario and his brother Martino to climb the steps to the ring.
Hood: Look at the love and respect these people have for their King.
Smith: This is sickening Hood. Don’t they know what he is about?
Hood: One would imagine. They elected to follow him.
Smith: I’ll never understand why.
Hood: King Mario is a unifier of people and with all these people out here I’d like to see Paras or Cyanide interrupt The King tonight!
Smith: They’ve been kicked out of the building!
Hood: Exactly!
~King Mario produces a microphone and stands in the middle of the ring, with his brother at his side.~
King Mario: Two weeks ago my Knight and I came out here into this very ring, and because of his petulance, he fell for one of the oldest tricks in the wrestling playbook. He left his King vulnerable and embarrassed. Needless to say, an imbecile like that had to be cut from the ranks. Tonight, I will name a new Knight one who will serve his King the way he should be. One, who has been around this business and won’t fall for simpleton tricks. My BROTHER, Martino!
~Boos fill the arena as Mario motions with both his hands towards his brother. Mario and Martino then share a hug before Mario gets back to business.~
King Mario: But before we get into that I wanted to address something. By now it is no secret that at Not Safe For Work I’ve got a date with Paul Paras and Silver Cyanide. It is also no secret what I did to Silver Cyanide just a few short months ago at Social Justice. I’d show you a clip, but seriously nobody can forget what happened at Social Justice. But there is something that a lot of you have forgot. I mean it WAS 18 years ago, so I will give you all a break. And for that reason, I’ve arranged a little clip. Roll that beautiful bean footage!
~Triple P puts both fists into the air, signaling for the end. He pulls Triple M over to the side of the cell near the entryway and lifts him to his feet. Paras hooks Maurako’s neck and arm for the Parasyte, but before he can hit it, Triple M throws Paras’ arm back and sets HIM up for Simply Marvelous! They fight to reverse the move over and over as the fans look on in shock as they teeter on the edge of the cell. Finally, both men leap off the side, Triple P with the PARASYTE and Triple M with SIMPLY MARVELOUS, falling all the way down from the top of the cell to the floor!!!!!!!~
Hood: HOLY SH*T!!!! They both went over!!!!
Jones: Both men hit the floor each trying to outdo the other with their finishing move! They both hit their move, but they also both touched down on the outside, and that’s the way to win this thing!!
Hood: So who won?!!
Jones: I don’t know! We’ll have to get the official word from the referees.
Jones: I cannot believe what we’ve just seen! Triple M wins the match!?
Hood: He doesn’t look like much of a winner to me, Jones.
~Paramedics run out to help Triple M. The paramedics take Triple M off on a gurney and the fans give him a standing ovation.~
Warrick: Here is your winner of the Ultimate Iron Match and the #1 Contender for the OCW World Title……. MARVELOUS MARIO MAURAKO!!!!!
Smith: Triple M wins!
Hood: Yea, but he don’t look like a winner, man that sucks!
~The footage ends and the camera fixates back on King Mario who has a huge smile on his face.~
Smith: I was there and that is not exactly how I remember things playing out.
Hood: What are you talking about Smith? We just saw the coverage, and that’s pretty much what I remember.
Smith: You know that footage was doctored!
Hood: Are you implying that Mario is some sort of video editing genius!?
Smith: Well, I’m sure he had someone do it for him.
King Mario: There you have it, I damn near killed Silver Cyanide at Social Justice, and 18 years ago I damn near killed Paul Paras, and if they REALLY want to push those limits again, then I’ll see them at Not Safe For Work in Texas!
~The fans cheer as they now realize a huge dream match is upon them. Then King Mario, turns to Martino and motions for him to kneel. Martino kneels and King Mario places his sword on both Martino’s left shoulder and then his right shoulder, and then finally places the blade up against Martino’s skull.
King Mario: I know dub thee Sir Martino, protector of Maurako Islands! Everyone let’s hear it for our Knight, and my brother, SIR MARTINO!
~As the Maurako Island natives salute and cheer their royalty, suddenly, “It Doesn’t Seem to Matter” by Army of Anyone hits over the speakers. The OCW arena fans roar in approval while King Mario and Sir Martino glare at the rampway, incensed by this interruption.~
Hood: I thought King Mario had this guy kicked out of the arena?!
Smith: I did too, Hood, but we hear the music, and… wait, look in the ring!
~Smith points at the aforementioned ring where one of the Maurako Island denizens at ringside has slid into the ring behind King Mario… wearing the familiar mask of the superhero Blue Thunder. The masked figure stalks behind Mario, standing calm and collected.~
Smith: We saw something very similar to this a few weeks ago…but wait Hood, that’s not Paul Paras under that mask… look at the size and body… that’s a woman in the ring!
Hood: No shit, Smith. Not unless Paras used his voodoo psychic yoga powers to shrink about a foot and turn into a chick. Is that something people can do with yoga? Asking for a friend.
Smith: No, Hood. Not it is not.
~The music fades out as King Mario glances around, confused. The fans confusedly cheer as the masked woman leans forward slightly, waiting for the King to turn toward her. Mario narrows his eyes and slowly turns around as the woman lunges toward him, shotgun dropkicking him in the knee!! Maurako collapses to one knee in pain!~
Hood: Who the hell is this? Call border patrol! This is an international incident!
~The masked woman returns to her feet as the crowd cheers the mystery assailant. She fires up for her next move, but before she can, she is tackled to the ground and restrained by the much larger Sir Martino. Martino holds the woman down as King Maurako regains his footing and takes care to make sure his crown hasn’t been disturbed from its perch on his head. He eyes the Blue Thunder mask with disdain and motions for Sir Martino to bring her to him. Martino pulls the woman up violently, restraining both her arms behind her back. Mario clears his throat and yells into the microphone.~
King Maurako: OFF WITH HER HEAD!!!
Smith: WHAT? Mario can’t BEHEAD someone on live television!!
Hood: He had someone stabbed in the neck last week. And weirder shit has happened on this show.
~Sir Martino and the fans look equally astonished as Smith before the King clarifies, motioning for her mask to be ripped off. Martino sighs as he reaches around the woman and grabs the mask under her chin, pulling it off in one quick motion. Mario frowns indignantly. The woman’s pale skin and lucid eyes show equal parts energy and tranquility… almost like those of her mentor, Paul Paras.~
Smith: Oh my God! Hood, that’s Raleigh Falkner, Paul Paras’ disciple and protégé! We saw her with Paras earlier this evening!
Hood: Hot yoga girl? Who the hell does she think she is attacking the King! That’s treason! Being hot is not a reason to commit treason!!
Smith: She has been Paras’ closest ally for months, closer than family, some have said, and as we saw earlier on Massacre, King Maurako put a stop to any plans Paras or Cyanide had for tonight’s broadcast. He didn’t calculate for Raleigh, though, and now maybe she’s out here to keep Paras’ battle going in his absence?
Hood: She picked a pretty poor time to do it.
~King Maurako stares the girl in the eye and raises the microphone. She looks back, blankly, a peaceful smile across her lips.~
King Maurako: Miss Falkner, you are not a citizen of the Maurako Islands, and therefore, you are trespassing on royal land. You will now be subject to Maurako Island legal degree number… wait, Sir Martino, why is she smiling?
~Mario glances behind him to make sure he’s not being set up, but no other assailants are to be found. He takes another step closer to Raleigh with the microphone.~
King Maurako: Why… are you smiling? Did something I say amuse you and your simple brain?
~Maurako forcefully holds the microphone in Raleigh’s face. The girl’s expression doesn’t shift as she lowers her eyes and speaks softly.~
Raleigh Falkner: It’s nothing, really. I just can’t wait to tell Paul that what he said was true. You really are just a child with an inferiority complex!
~The fans pop at the unexpected comment. Mario runs a hand down his face.~
Raleigh Falkner: That’s cool. That’s fine. We all have our things, man. But hey, even though you’re super scared Paul’s gonna get you back for everything you’ve put him through, just remember the good news!: You’re absolutely, 100% right! He IS going to get you back! He’s coming for you, and he's going to kick your head off!
~A small “RALEIGH” chant breaks out as the fans show their appreciation for the upstart young woman. Martino tightens his grip on her arms, but she doesn’t seem to mind, wistfully nodding her head to the chants. King Mario grimaces and solemnly hands the microphone back to Belvedere. He motions toward the Maurako Island residents to head to the back. They begin filing out just before Mario suddenly turns around and CRACKS Raleigh in the face with his fist!! Her slender body becomes limp in Martino’s arms as the knight lets her fall to the mat in a heap. The crowd looks on in stunned silence. The boos then begin to rain down furiously.~
Smith: WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! He just hit a defenseless woman!!
Hood: YES!!! Hey, she hit him first! And we see dudes and chicks fighting in OCW all the time, though none have a right hand like the King!
Smith: She’s half his size, and this wasn’t a match between two trained athletes! This was disgusting. Vile, Hood!
Hood: She deserved it! Not only for interrupting a royal ceremony but for hanging all over that usurper, Paul Paras all the time. Man, woman, or child, no one besmirches the good name of King Mario! Long live King Mario!!
~Raleigh lies motionless on the canvas as Sir Martino steps over her body to lead the King out of the ring with the royal procession. Mario doesn’t so much as look back at the girl as Belvedere and several medics and referees jump into the ring to attend to her. Up on the video screen a giant red sign with flashing light bulbs. The sign reads “Whack-o-Meter” and is displaying the number 1,541. The lights flash and the 1 turns into a 2 displaying the new number of 1,542.~
Smith: Totally uncalled for...Mario is out of control.
Hood: He's playing the game, Smith. He's doing what he must to achieve his goal.
Smith: Hitting a defenseless woman...doctoring footage...this must be stopped!
Hood: You'd put doctoring footage over murdering a knight?
Smith: I prefer not to glorify casual murder on OCW television. We don't need that becoming a weekly thing.
Hood: That shit was far from casual!
Smith: Whatever...Mario's fired a direct shot at Paul. Those two are headed to war
Hood: Hey! Don't forget Cyanide!
Smith: Never...these three men appear set to tear each other apart.
~We cut backstage. Welsh is placing a slipshod signature along a sheet of paper clipped to a board~
Security Guard: You guys sure took it on the chin tonight.
~Welsh finishes signing and jams the clipboard into the guard’s chest. The guard is annoyed but in no position to retaliate~
Marcus Welsh: No shit, Sherlck.
Greg: MARCUS!
Marcus Welsh: Not now, Greg.
~The armored doors are opened and money is removed. Welsh watches with a tear nearly falling from his eye. They carry tons and tons of money into the OCW Arena. Knux, Welsh’s head of security side steps a few of the guards, exiting the arena. He’s got a cell phone in his hand~
Knux: Sir, it’s Kayla from accounting.
~Welsh lowers his head and says ‘fuck’. Greg gasps. We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: He’s got some splainin to do.
Smith: Indeed. Could this be the end of Marcus Welsh?
Hood: I hope not! Things have been ROCKING since he took back over. I think we should start a GoFundMe to replace the money lost on that Depth match. Who’s with me?!
~People within earshot boot. A sock hits Hood in the head~
Hood: A sock? Gross.
Smith: Yea let’s get sanitation out here to get rid of that sock and apply some disinfectant. In the meantime, we’ve got more wrestling! Logan is set to face Robert Morbidus…that match is next!
Hood: BAT ALERT
|
|
Singles Match
Robert Morbidus (7-7) vs. Logan (1-1)
~The fans are still buzzing over what’s taken place thus far in the ring. I mean…JOHN E DEPTH GOT A WIN! Holy Charlie Sheen’s white blood cell count…that’s fuckin amazing! ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN! ANYTHING! Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The slow march of a drum roll hits the speakers carrying into "Treachery" by Bleach. Logan slowly steps out onto the entrance ramp to a chorus of boos. He stands at the top of the ramp, slowing looking around at the masses. He's wearing his signature attire, with a black leather sleeveless vest over it. Logan begins walking down the ramp, taking his time, every now and then pointing out to a member of the audience and talking trash to them. Logan hits ringside, climbing the ring steps, and getting inside the ring stepping through the middle rope. Logan climbs the nearest turnbuckle, gazes around at all the fans booing at him, and he raises his arm up into the air. After a moment, Logan finally steps down, taking off his vest and throwing it to the outside, and then paces the ring while the music fades~
P>
Belvedere: From Chesapeake, Virginia…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 250lbs…Logan!!!
Smith: Logan and Lilith pushed the eMpire to the limit last week! It was a tough hill to climb in his second match but Logan showed that he’s a player.
Hood: And like every player he’s ditched the girl and is ready to ride solo!
Smith: Well that’s rude.
Hood: The truth hurts my man!
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…Robert Morbidus!!!
~Belvedere exits and he bell sounds~
Smith: Alright! Morbidus is looking to add another win to his record whereas Logan is hoping to get back on the winning track.
Hood: Both guys need some upward momentum…although I think you could argue that Logan, even in a losing effort, is rising.
Smith: Indeed
~Logan jerks his neck, side to side, keeping a close watch on Morbidus. Morbidus and his menacing glare move forward, unafraid of the danger Logan possesses. Logan doesn’t flinch…he’s prepared for what’s about to come. The two greet one another in the center of the ring with a strong lock up!! Logan’s muscles flex and twist…he’s doing his best to combat the power of Morbidus. Morbidus doesn’t appear to be straining near as much. Morbidus starts to back Logan up. Logan’s losing ground. They wind up in the ropes. Scruff forces a break. Morbidus backs up, following the rules. Before Scruff can move Logan delivers a swift kick into Robert’s gut! He follows that up with a right hand across the vampire’s face! Morbidus turns and walks away from Logan, shaking his head. The fans are booing~
Smith: Logan taking advantage by bending the rules.
Hood: To be fair he’s facing a vampire…it’s not like the rules are 100% applicable in this scenario.
Smith: He’s been cleared to compete, Hood. You really think OCW would allow a legitimate vampire to wrestle?
Hood: Yes. We do, however, draw our line at raccoons.
Smith: Well, of course.
~Logan runs up and clobbers Morbidus in the back of the head with a double axe handle. Robert stumbles into a corner…his hands grab the ropes, prevening his face from slamming into the top buckle. Logan reaches up, grabbing the back of Robert’s head, trying to force it down. Morbidus throws his arms in the air, forcing Logan back. Robert turns around…his eyes are wide and focused – on Logan. Logan seems slightly less sure than before. Morbidus begins to stalk Logan. Logan is light on his feet, keeping a safe amount of distance until he can locate an opportunity~
Smith: Hey may not be a vampire but Morbidus is strong and scary.
Hood: Yep, you’d better keep him down if you ever get him there.
Smith: Indeed
~Robert shows a burst of quickness, placing Logan within range. He throws a right hand at Logan. Logan ducks and darts in, hooking Morbidus around the waist. Upon doing so he realizes a plan was fully set in place. Morbidus reaches down, grabbing Logan’s wrists. He utilizes tremendous strength in breaking the lock. Logan tries to fight against the vampire’s force, but it’s of no use. Morbidus turns around, maintaining a vice grip on Logan’s arms. He dives in, head butting Logan!! Logan stumbles back, showing major effects from the blow. Morbidus walks up from behind Logan and fish hooks the man’s mouth~
Smith: Oh no…Logan is in trouble.
Hood: Guy might as well be in Castle Morbidus right now. He’s in deep shit.
Smith: Indeed.
Hood: No would be a good time for all that garlic butter to come in handy.
~Morbidus pulls Logan’s head back, securing it under his arm. He lifts Logan up and drops him with an inverted suplex!! Logan hits hard, instantly curling up. Morbidus sits up before returning to his feet in a methodical fashion. He drops to one knee, near Logan and reaches for the man’s neck. Fans at ringside freak out as Robert dives in to ‘feed on his opponent’. Logan gets a whiff of what’s happening and jams a thumb into Robert’s eye as fast as he can. Morbidus pops to his feet, shaking his head, reaching for the impacted ocular socket. Logan pulls himself up via the ropes and charges at Morbidus. Robert extends his arms, catching Logan by the throat, both hands~
Smith: Logan showing some fight only to get stymied by Morbidus.
Hood: At least we didn’t see a man bite another man in the neck. I am not DOWN with that.
Smith: I don’t think any of us are, Hood.
~Morbidus backs Logan into a corner. Logan’s feet find the bottom buckle. He walks up the corner in a strange way to attempt an escape. Morbidus will not let go. Logan’s feet finally find the top buckle…Robert spins around and drops to his ass stunning Logan’s chin into his shoulder!! Logan’s body leans forward…his legs are wrapped around the bar connected the top buckle to the ring post. Morbidus rises~
Smith: He calls that Dark Kiss!
Hood: Looks like the type of kiss Lilith would give someone.
Smith: I wouldn’t know.
Hood: No shock there.
~Morbidus pulls Logan from the corner as though he weighs very little. He’s got him in a reverse body slam position. Morbidus tosses Logan over his head with an inverted fallaway slam (Vampire’s Redemption!!!)” Logan hits hard…he rolls over, onto his back. Morbidus crawls over and calmly makes the cover~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Kick out by Logan! He’s got to get some offense going if he wants to win this match.
Hood: Yea, the undead dude, is way ahead right now. You don’t want to spot a vampire a head start.
Smith: It is not wise.
~Morbidus is undaunted by the near fall. He’s a vampire. Not much really fucking fazes a guy who’s apparently lived for centuries. You live through Hitler…what’s a near fall? He pulls Logan to his feet and hoists the man onto his shoulders. The crowd rises. Morbidus appears ready to finish Logan off with Eternal Suffering. Morbidus begins to spin. Logan throws some elbows into the side of Robert’s head…it’s clear Logan’s done SOME homework. Morbidus does not relent. Logan throws elbow after elbow…trying to get free before he gets dizzy. Robert’s grip loosens…Logan whips his legs around, he grabs Robert’s head and drops him with a Tornado DDT!!! Robert is face down!! Logan rolls away from the vampire, trying to reestablish some form of stability~
Smith: Tornado DDT by Logan! He’s back in this!
Hood: Did he bathe his elbows in garlic pre-match?
Smith: I wouldn’t know.
Hood: I guess only LILITH would know.
~Logan is seated in a corner. He pulls himself up via the ropes. Morbidus starts to rise. He gets to all fours. Logan charges ahead, drilling Morbidus in the neck with a penalty kick!!! Morbidus flips over, onto his back. Logan stomps on the vampire, keeping him down. Logan seems pissed. Now that he’s got the advantage, his aggression has intensified~
Smith: In typical bully fashion, Logan seems most at ease when he’s in control.
Hood: Umm, doesn’t everyone?
Smith: Not necessarily…some people thrive as an underdog.
Hood: Who? Losers?
~A strange thing happens during Logan’s ‘kick down’ of Morbidus. The true living vampire begins to rise. Logan looks around like “what the fuck”. Morbidus continues to rise through the kicks. He reaches a standing position, face to face with Logan. Logan’s eyes are wide. Robert looks ready to strike. Logan performs a standing backflip…his legs smack Morbidus right in the jaw!! Morbidus stumbles into the ropes…he ricochets off. Logan, back on his feet, SPEARS Morbidus to the mat!!! He makes the cover!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Morbidus won’t stay down!
Hood: It’s going to take a lot to drag me away…
Smith: Huh? You lost me
Hood: Sorry, got Africa stuck in my head.
~Logan is back to his feet. He appears primed for victory. Morbidus returns to his feet as methodically as ever. Logan takes his back! He jumps on Robert’s back, locking in a sleeper! The fans rise with anticipation, knowing where this leads. Logan gets into position. Robert stumbles around, trying to get Logan off his back. He stumbles near the ropes~
Smith: Can Morbidus get Logan off his back before Logan drops him with The Connector?
Hood: I don’t know…the hell you asking me for?
Smith: Oh, I’m not sure…probably hoping you might contribute something other than lyrics to a 1980’s hit song.
Hood: Hey! That was a MAJOR contribution.
~Logan attempts The Connector…Morbidus uses Logan’s momentum against him, whipping him over his head, forcing a release. Logan flips over…he manages to land on the top rope. He attempts a springboard moonsault…Morbidus catches him across his shoulders!!~
Smith: Eternal Suffering!
Hood: FUCK
~Morbidus starts to spin around…but his grip isn’t secure enough. Logan slips off and locks in a sleeper!! Morbidus slows his spinning, coming to a stop. He’s a bit thrown. Logan uses this momentary lapse in equilibrium to flip over and drops Morbidus with The Connector!!! Morbidus snaps back!! He’s on the mat! Logan leaps on top of Morbidus…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LOGAN!!!!!
Smith: Logan did it! He pulled it off!
Hood: That move…The Connector…fucking thing is no joke.
Smith: Indeed.
~Morbidus is already methodically rising. Logan takes this opportunity to roll out of the ring and head up the ramp, secure in what he’s earned. Morbidus reaches his feet and glares at Logan, who wastes no time in heading through the curtain. Mr. Judas enters the ring, checking on his client~
Smith: Morbidus was caught, plain and simple. He looked strong all match but the wily Logan caught him and stunned him long enough to earn the victory.
Hood: That’s all it takes, Smith. You can control most of the match but if you get caught…it’s lights out, especially against someone like Logan.
Smith: Logan is proving his talent. The man will have plenty of opportunities as he moves forward.
Hood: No doubt.
Smith: Big announcement for HOW and HOTv...WARGAMES appear on the horizon over at High Octane Wrestling!
Hood: Aww yea, that's some good shit.
Smith: Indeed!
~The OCW ring has undergone a remarkable transformation. A rug covers most of the canvas, a desk sits at one side with a (platonic) love seat next to it. Various stands are set up to look like stained glass windows. John E. Depth ins in one corner on the keyboard as Chastity Temple boogies in the the center of the ring to this song… ~
Smith: Amazing how the ring crew set all this up so fast!
Hood: Amazing how they all had Bible Club shirts on. Actually I think “creepy” is the adjective I’m looking for.
Smith: We’re everywhere.
Hood: What?
Smith: Uhh… I said they’re everywhere.
Hood: Sure you did…
~All this work means one thing: It’s time for Chastity’s Church!~
~As John E. Depth finishes his tune, Chastity takes a seat behind the desk and pulls a microphone over.~
Chastity: Wow! You really know how to play, John E!
Depth: Hey, don’t let anyone say John E. Depth doesn’t know how to handle his organ.
Chastity: They won’t hear that from me! So what was that song?
Depth: The opening tune from a fun flick called Deep Throat. It was a big hit in the 70’s
Chastity: Oh, was it about Nixon?
Depth: Sure, kid.
Chastity: Awesome! So this is the premiere of my talk show, Chastity’s Church! I’ll be bringing you interviews with the biggest names in wrestling. But first let’s talk about Bible Club, because what’s the first rule of Bible Club, John E?
Depth: Always talk about Bible Club.
Chastity: That’s right! Be proud to spread the Word of God! Now I see some of you are wearing your Bible Club shirts!
~A cheer comes from the small percentage of the audience that is indeed wearing Bible Club shirts. The other fans look at them with disdain.~
Hood: Have you noticed there are no girls wearing those shirts? Or even sitting next to a guy wearing one?
Smith: What are you saying, Hood?
Hood: That Bible Clubbers couldn’t get laid in a women’s prison with a fistful of pardons.
Smith: Th-that’s a terrible thing to say!
Hood: Yeah and that’s a black t-shirt you have under your suit and tie, Smitty.
Smith: No comment.
Chastity: Now I understand you can’t wear the same shirt everyday.
~Some of the Bible Clubbers seem confused by this idea.~
Chastity: So if you want to show you’re BC 4 Life, we have a gesture that shows you’re just… Too Pure!
~She raises her hand with the first, second, and fourth fingers up like so… ~
Hood: Hold on… that’s the shocker.
Smith: The what now?
Hood: The shocker. You know, two in the pink and one in the stink.
Smith: There’s no way that’s what it is.
Chastity: John E. Depth came up with it!
Smith: OK, it’s the shocker.
~Indeed John E. Depth looks quite proud of himself as he makes the gesture and leers at a few ladies in the crowd.~
Chastity: The two fingers together represent the word Too and the pinky is for Pure because they both start with P! Isn’t that fun?
Hood: If you think that’s fun you should try shoving that thing up your cooch and butthole, ya lil’ tease.
Smith: Don’t be vulgar!
Hood: Like you’re not dreaming to giving her the Too Pure up that short skirt of hers.
Smith: Again, no comment.
~Several members of the crowd are thrusting Too Pures up in the air, the lecherous looks on their faces making it clear they also know what the shocker is. This is all lost on Chastity, as she smiles proudly at the sight.~
Chastity: That’s right, Bible Club is for everyone! Don’t be afraid to show it! There’s even a couple young ladies over there showing they’re Too Pure as they hug each other!
~Every set of male eyes as well as all the cameras in the arena turn to look at the ladies gleefully holding up their fingers as they cuddle. They take advantage of all the attention to immediately start making out to the delight of the crowd and the confusion of Chastity.~
Chastity: OK, so maybe Bible Club isn’t for everyone. But you can all watch Chastity’s Church! My very first guest made her dramatic return to OCW two weeks ago! Please welcome… SARAH TWILIGHT!
~The lights go out as a spotlight centers on stage. Piano chords begin a haunting melody, accompanied by heavy drum beats. The crowd begins to boo MASSIVELY as the video wall displays the words THE ONLY ONE. Pyros shoot up from the stage as our melody finally kicks into guitar. "The Only One" by Evanescence continues to play as Sarah finally walks out onto the stage. The gorgeous redhead wearing a black denim jacket covering a purple “Mistress of Mischief” tee, matching denim jeans and of course a sterling silver pentacle around her neck~
~She makes her way into the ring, tilting her head oddly as she looks toward Chastity. After the crowd continues to show their displeasure, Sarah makes her way over to the love seat and casually sits back. Chastity appears to attempt to offer a welcome but Sarah makes a statement before she can.~
Sarah: Just to be clear, I’m not here to participate with the circle jerk club. Okay?
~The crowd “ooh’s” and “aah’s” as Sarah looks toward Chastity, wondering exactly why she was asked to appear on her show… a Church show nonetheless.~
Chastity: I don’t know what a circle jerk is. John E, do you know what that is?
Depth: I’ll tell you later, kid.
Chastity: Is it like a quilting circle?
Depth: Sure, let’s go with that.
~Satisfied for now, Chastity turns her attention back to her flame-haired guest.~
Chastity: Welcome to the show, Sarah. So I hear you have something called an “Oh Sugar” contract. Yes, I heard it called another name but Chastity’s Church is family friendly programming. Why don’t you tell us all about that?
~Sarah actually blinks a few times in complete and utter shock at the comments made by Chastity. Was this some kind of a joke? Was Sarah being Punk’d or something? She gives this a moment to process before finally having anything at all to say in response to the question.~
Sarah: H… How old are you? Like, seriously you don’t have to answer that. OCW is not family friendly television. I sure as hell ain’t family friendly.
~She just had to put that out there because in her entire career she had never had someone unable to speak a very minor swear word. Especially not a grown adult in a wrestling organization. She doesn’t waste anymore time on that trivial topic and proceeds with the question she was asked.~
Sarah: I was given what I was owed. It’s as simple as that. Marcus Welsh wants me to give him an answer tonight, so he’ll get an answer. Whatever decision I make, you can rest assured that I will be wearing gold around my waist very very soon.
Chastity: Aw, that’s so nice for you. As our fans know, I had a chance to earn some gold recently. A chance to become the Paradigm of Purity at NSFW, which I’m working hard to change to SFW I’ll have you know. But the strangest thing happened. Just as I had Sterling Silver locked in the Chastity Belt, the very nice Cecilworth M! Farthington stomped on my abs and stole MY victory! So I ask you this, Sarah Twilight…
~Standing up, Chastity rubs her tight flat belly as she glares at her guest.~
Chastity: Look at this core! Do you think a stomach like this can’t withstand a double stomp? The only thing tighter than my abdomen is my vulva! You did something, you… you… WITCH!
Smith: Well this has taken an unexpected turn rather quickly.
~As Chastity glares at Sarah, this prompts the fiery redhead to stand as well. Her own emerald green eyes locking with Chastity’s. The tense stare down between the two lasts for what seems like an eternity before Sarah has something to say to the host.~
Sarah: You brought me out here to this sham of a church to talk about your failures? Your inability to win a championship, and have the nerve to use me as an excuse? Let me tell you something bitch, if I was going to do something to you, you would damn sure know about it! You wouldn’t have to ask because I’d make certain you knew exactly who it was that left your pathetic schoolgirl ass laying!
~The intensity and seething anger in Sarah’s eyes burning ever more deeply as she already wanted to strangle Chastity after the short exchange. Chastity’s temper is running high as well and she laughs without humor.~
Chastity: Oh, you expect me to believe that? You lie just your master… Satan! I know all about you witches. And you know that I can save Lilith from your depraved demonic clutches with the power of Christ! Save her from that sham you call a marriage. God made Adam and Eve, not... some lady and Eve! That’s why you put a hex on me and made me lose the contendership to the Paradigm championship!
~Flushed with rage, Chastity reaches across her desk and slaps Sarah Twilight across the face! The audience gasps! John E. Depth starts eating a bag of popcorn!~
Hood: Chasity just slapped the shit out of her! I didn’t expect THAT!
Smith: Look at the look on Sarah’s face… I think Chastity made a very big mistake!
~ Sarah’s head turns to the side as she is slapped hard across the face by Chastity. She remains this way for a moment as the absolute hatred coursing through her veins fed every desire within her to destroy the self righteous bitch that stood before her. This bitch who had just smacked her. Chastity’s handprint was visible on Sarah’s cheek with the force she used to deliver it. Finally, the redhead turns back to lock eyes with Chastity once more. Murderous rage boiling over and she takes a step toward Chastity, toppling the love seat and desk out of her way.~
Smith: Uh oh! Chastity better run!
Hood: Don’t do it! Sarah don’t do it! If she assaults Chastity, she loses the contract. Don’t do it!
Smith: I doubt your concern is for Sarah’s contract, but rather Chastity’s features.
Hood: Well of course I can’t watch Chastity get hurt … or scarred.
~Chastity herself is quick to remind Sarah that in the grand scheme of things, Sarah can’t lay a finger on her. She smirks snootily knowing this.~
Chastity: Awww…. poor Sarah. You can’t touch me no matter how much you want to. Kinda like all these sex-starved losers here!
~A chorus of boos erupts from the crowd, even from a few Bible Clubbers. The reaction wipes the smirk off Chastity’s face.~
Chastity: You did it again! You hexed my show! You’re why I can’t have nice things! So you listen to me, Sarah Twilight… just like all witches, you’re toast!
Hood: What do witches have to do with toast?
Smith: I think it’s a reference to being burned at the stake.
Hood: Yeesh, she sucks at trash talk.
~It takes every fiber of Sarah’s being to restrain herself from beating the absolute tar out of Chastity right now, and Chastity knows it. Sarah grits her teeth and clenches her fists, wanting so badly to rip Chastity’s spinal cord out through her eye sockets but she relents from assaulting her. The crowd still however wants to see a fight so they start egging things on by chanting~
Crowd: KILL THAT BITCH! KILL THAT BITCH! KILL THAT BITCH!
Hood: Our crowd is out for blood tonight. You can’t say Chastity wouldn’t deserve it.
Smith: Sure I could. She’s too adorable to be mauled!
Hood: Pathetic. Pussy-whipped by unatainable pussy.
~Sarah does whatever she can to cool her temper but never takes her glaring green eyes off of Chastity.~
Sarah: Tonight … I might not be able to touch you. But the moment I have that contract in my hands … a hex will be the LAST thing you have to fucking worry about! Understand this, bitch … I will make you suffer and you will wish all I did was cast some spells on your stupid ass.
~Sarah leaves it at that and turns to leave, having nothing more to say to Chastity. The next stop was going to be revenge … once she had the contract. Meanwhile a fuming Chastity picks up a mic from the wreckage of her set.~
Chastity: Stop! Cursing! I told you this is a family show! I’m a serious journalist! Like Tomi Lahren without the abortion stuff! You will respect me, Sarah Twilight, or else I’ll make you! Now get off my set! You’re off the guest list!
~With that Chastity spikes the mic down and points to the back. Sarah turns to look back at Chastity as she is thrown off the show. With a completely insincere smile she casually walks back toward Chastity who reminds her that she can’t assault her. Instead, Sarah tilts her head, reaches forward and plucks a dead strand of hair from Chastity’s shoulder. She looks at it, nods to herself and flashes that obviously fake sweet smile once more before obliging Chastity’s wishes and exiting the set. What would she do with a strand of Chastity’s hair? Who knows …. Witchcraft maybe? Chastity is somewhat shaken by the possibility. She seems a bit nervous as she picks the mic back up again.~
Chastity: So.... that's our show for tonight. Thanks for tuning in! Play us out, John E!
~Depth starts playing with his organ again as Chastity breaks into a boogie, this one a little less lively than the one at the start.~
Hood: What a weird fucking show.
Smith: So you didn’t like it?
Hood: I loved it!
Smith: The question is, what’s going through Chastity’s mind right now? She slapped Sarah Twilight, accused her of placing a hex on her and vowed to break up her marriage. Sarah was not allowed to strike back, but instead she collected a strand of Chastity’s hair. What’s up with that?
Hood: If she didn’t hex Chastity before, she certainly intends to do that now … at least until she’s allowed to get her hands on her. I’m worried for Chastity!
Smith: Really?
Hood: Yeah, I don’t wanna miss more high-quality trainwrecks like this!
~We cut to the silhouette of a man. A strong man. The silhouette brightens. We spot the Confederate FLAG across the man’s cut off shirt. He’s sporting wrestling trunks with “CV” designed in orange, violent font against a black background. The man looks up, sporting his signature shades. It’s CHAD VARGAS~
Chad Vargas: The eMpire? Sounds like a bunch of [censored]’s to me!
~Vargas is tossed a Budweiser. He chugs the beer and throws it at the camera, smashing the bottle and lens in one motion. The feed cuts to a message~
Smith: Chad Vargas is returning!
Hood: Yea and he’s clearly not happy with what’s been going on in his absence. The eMpire, like the Aptitude, are stealing his spotlight.
Smith: He’s a man with one goal…to sit atop OCW, alone. He hates…HATES when newcomers get the red carpet treatment.
Hood: Damn straight. Vargas may not get the eMpire right out of the gate but there’s no doubt they will cross paths at some point.
Smith: Indeed. And, well, talk about fortuitous…all this eMpire talk! Guess what’s next?
Hood: A thirty minute Mike Best segment that will pop the highest rating in OCW history?
Smith: Uh, no. It’s the eMpire taking on The Danger Boiz! Let’s head down to ringside for all the action!
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Tag Team Match
The eMpire (3-0) vs. The Danger Boiz (0-0)
~The crowd sits in silence. Or is it FEAR? The eMpire is set to march down to the ring for blood and victory. Belvedere, in said ring, has the OCW microphone in his hand. He kindly clears his throat, garnering all our attention~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~"Alive" by Corvyx hits! The fans jump to their feet, excited to see The Danger Boiz!!! Dan and Chris emerge from behind the curtain, sprinting down the ramp and sliding into the ring, under the bottom rope. The crowd chants “DANGER BOIZ!” Dan and Chris ascend separate corners, raising their arms and signaling out to the crowd~
Belvedere: From Smithville, Tennessee…Crazy Chris, Dangerous Dan…The Danger Boiz!!!
~Dan and Chris hop off the turnbuckles and hop around the ring, excited for action~
Smith: It’s been awhile since we’ve seen the brothers Danger!
Hood: Might be a long while before we see them in the future…after this match, anyway.
Smith: I hope not…I’m a huge Danger Boiz fan!
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~That hideously awesome entrance theme belonging to the most powerful force currently going in professional wrestling rapes the PA system as CM!F and Max Kael emerge from behind the curtain. Dan and Chris stop prancing and start watching…they get their serious faces on…or, well, at least Dan does. Chris is wearing a mask. Max marches down the ramp with CMF at his side. The obliquely matched duo appear lockstep in movement and mindset. That is, until a fan reaches out swiping at CMF’s very nice towel. CMF jumps away from the fan, protecting a towel he did not swipe from a Holiday Inn. Max pays this bit of tomfoolery no mind, keeping his focus on the task in front of them~
Belvedere: Coming down the aisle…Max Kael and the #1 Contender to the Paradigm Championship, Cecilworth M! Farthington…they are out here representing The eMpire!!!
~Max hops onto the apron, stepping into the ring without wasting any movement. CMF hustles up the steps before carefully placing his towel across the bar which connects the top buckle to the ring post. Belvedere steps out of the ring~
Smith: And here’s the eMpire
Hood: Bow down…or raise one arm, fingers extended.
Smith: No
Hood: This is why you have no friends, Smith.
Smith: Alice is my friend.
Hood: Alice is an enemy to us all.
~Dan and Chris have a quick conference. Chris appears ready to start the match. CMF spots the masked wrestler and seems eager to begin the match for his team. Max is feeling laid back so he’s got no issue with this. He’ll simply step in if the situation requires such action. Max takes a spot on the apron. CMF leaps over the top rope, into the ring, sticking the landing. He prances around, arms extended, very proud over his agility. The fans BOOOO. CMF looks around, wondering why they are booing him. He deems that they are ‘poors’ and thus don’t know any better~
Smith: Farthington attempted to help the poor this week.
Hood: The fuck you mean ‘attempted’? Guy goes out and does a good thing, and you have to make it sound like he reached RAPIST LEVEL HEEL status
Smith: Can we stop throwing around the R-word?
Hood: What R word? Raccoon?
Smith: Ugh, nevermind.
~Chris yells out “HEY!” trying to get CMF’s attention. CMF turns around and tilts his head back, appalled at the existence of Crazy Chris. Max is fiddling with the tag rope, kind of just waiting for this entire thing to be over with so he can focus on the Savage Championship aspirations he seems to have…that and his blood feud with Langston. Chris charges forward…CMF moves…Chris runs into Max! Max flies off the apron, landing on his feet at the bottom of the ramp. His one eye slowly turns toward the ring…he scowls. The fans gasp…a ‘you fucked up’ vibe permeates throughout the OCW Arena~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: It appears as though the Danger Boiz have Max’s attention.
Smith: This could get ugly.
~Max starts to head toward the ring. He’s suddenly jumped from behind!! He stumbles forward, falling into the apron, chest first. A giant hand grabs Max by the hair, ripping him to his feet and spinning him around…it belongs to Vincent Langston!! Langston is wearing the Savage Championship around his waist, and his signature Chain hangs over his shoulders. We see bandages covering the wounds he suffered last week during Kael’s beat down. Langston throws a huge right hand, drilling Max in the jaw…avoiding the eye patch. Langston shakes his hand and looks down; his fist is bleeding. His eyes are like “what the fuck.” Max smiles, once again revealing those metal teeth~
Smith: Where CAN you hit this man?
Hood: The dick, probably.
Smith: I’m beginning to think Max’s entire body should be outlawed from competing inside a wrestling ring.
Hood: That’s why he’s in the Savage division ya dumbass
~CMF and Chris are watching the action from inside the ring. Max throws a big right hand!! It connects. Langston retaliates with his now bloodied right hand…he connects! They break down into an all-out brawl!! The fans at ringside are going crazy for the action. The two men brawl up the ramp, toward the stage~
Smith: It’s chaos down here! Chaos has broken out!
Hood: I’m beginning to think these two men don’t like one another.
Smith: What gave that away?
Hood: Hey, I know a killer when I see one.
Smith: Thanks for the top-secret intel, Arya.
~They continue brawling through the curtain…neither individual with a clear advantage. This leaves CMF all alone in the ring. He turns around and sees Chris. Chris charges at CMF, throwing a huge clothesline. CMF ducks the clothesline and, in seamless fashion, drops Chris with a neckbreaker!!! Chris hurries back to his feet, wincing. CMF greets him with a boot to the gut, doubling him over. CMF lifts Chris up and drops him with a Fisherman Brainbuster!!! Chris is down! CMF pops back to his feet…he runs over and dropkicks Dan in the face!! Dan flies off the apron, SLAMMING into the barricade. CMF returns to his feet and saunters back toward Chris~
Smith: The Danger Boiz had the numbers advantage…but CMF seems to be above…
Hood: Mathematics. CMF is above mathematics.
Smith: Whatever that means.
~CMF stands over Chris. Chris, instinctively, reaches up for help. CMF appears to show mercy…he reaches down, taking Chris’ hand before violently twisting it, flipping over and applying Great Article 50!!! Chris instantly taps out, yelling in pain!! Scruff calls for the bell. CMF releases the hold quickly, not to keen on touching Chris anymore than he has to. He pops to his feet and poses…the fans boo~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…THE EMPIRE!!!!!
Smith: Farthington single handily defeated a great tag team.
Hood: He is the one, true Paradigm Champion, Smith.
Smith: No, that’s Hayley Robinson.
Hood: It’s just a shame those filthy homeless people STOLE what was his…that’s okay; he’ll make another one.
Smith: NONE OF THOSE BELTS MATTER UNTIL HE BEATS THE PARADIGM CHAMPION.
Hood: You insinuating he should masturbate because, to my knowledge, that’s the only way a person can beat themselves.
Smith: Ugh, whatever…
~We cut backstage. Langston and Kael have been pulled apart. Both men seem enraged…ready to fight. Langston is furious. Kael keeps a steady gaze on the Savage Champion. Knux, head of security, is ordering the dozens of security officers to drag these two men as far away from one another as possible~
Smith: Langston and Kael are going to do battle at some point, Hood.
Hood: Yes, and it will be violent.
Smith: Indeed
~We cut to the OCW Sports Room. People are going wild!! Tickets are cashed in. Thousands upon thousands of dollars are handed out. A man who probably seasons his steak in ketchup turns to his wife~
Man: My goodness, mama! Three grand! We are rich! I’m finally gonna buy you that ring you always wanted.
Woman: Oh baby!
~They make out in front of everyone. A bit too much PDA. OCW security shoves them out of view so the next person can cash in their ticket. The people working the pay window are sweating profusely. It’s a rush unlike any they’ve encountered. Knux stands back, keeping tabs~
Smith: It’s a madhouse back there!
Hood: Don’t call it that.
Smith: It’s crazy! All that money being thrown around.
Hood: Knux looks queasy.
Smith: You think he looks bad? I can only imagine how Welsh is handling all of this.
Hood: Probably doing the best sales job in the history of sales job over the phone with Kayla from Accounting.
Smith: Oh, most definitely. Well folks...it's time to see who can BEAT THE CLOCK! Down to ringside we go!
|
|
Beat the Clock
Lurrr (5-2) vs. Jackson Black (2-1)
~The fans are buzzing. We see a man clear out some space in the crowd. He throws a clock down and begins to beat it. The crowd goes wild!! Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a BEAT THE CLOCK match. In order to win, Lurrr must defeat Jackson Black and set a time that Meyhu cannot beat.
~A solid ‘Meyhu’ chant sounds out. Jackson Black, in the ring, shouts out ‘THIS ONE’S FOR YOU, MATT!’ A fan yells out “WHO THE FUCK IS THAT GUY?” The entire crowd laughs. Jackson sulks in his corner~
Belvedere: Currently in the ring…Jackson Black!
~Black throws a sheepish arm into the air. The fans yell ‘YOU SUCK!’ Black recoils and buries his face into the top turnbuckle~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Smith: The ICON is about to arrive!
Hood: Yep, the first man ever inducted into the OCW Hall of Fame…still here after all these years.
Smith: Despite all his experience…a beat the clock challenge may be a new experience for Lurrr.
I used to be broke, confused..no joke
~Lurrr throws the curtains apart, marching down the ramp. He’s got his focus on Jackson…this is ‘no fuck around’ Lurrr. He knows, given Meyhu’s talent and who that talent is facing…he knows he needs to set a pretty quick time. Lurrr slides into the ring. He heads toward Jackson, who is still hiding his face in the top buckle. Scruff gets in between the two…keeping Lurrr from gaining a time advantage~
Belvedere: From Houston, Texas…he is the original OCW Icon…he is the first member of the Hall of Fame…he is a three time OCW Champion…he is the current Hall of Fame Champion…he is LURRR!
Smith: A man who has done it all!
Hood: He’s got almost as many nicknames as that Targaryen woman.
~Belvedere exits. Lurrr is pushed back, by Scruff. Scruff pats Jackson on the back. Jackson turns around and sees Lurrr. He steps forward; arm extended saying, “Why hello Mr. Lurrr.” Lurrr drops him with THE WAKE-UP CALL!! The crowd pops! Scruff grabs Lurrr around the waist, using all the force in his body to get the man into a corner~
Smith: Wait a second! The bell hasn’t even rung yet! That’s cheating!
Hood: Jackson shouldn’t have been talking shit.
Smith: He wasn’t! He was being polite.
Hood: I don’t know…I’m pretty sure Jackson said some very mean things.
Smith: You need to get your hearing checked.
~Scruff looks around…he sees a dead Jackson Black. He sees a very happy Lurrr. He sees the clock reading 00:00. He contemplates his next move before heading toward the ropes and waving Belvedere over. The two men confer. Lurrr seems suspicious. Belvedere nods and backs away from the ring, mic in hand~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…I have just been informed that due to Lurrr’s premature violence Scruff will be adding THIRTY SECONDS onto the clock!
~The crowd goes wild! Lurrr yells out “WHAT?!” He charges at Scruff, furious. Scruff runs from a very angry Lurrr…he throws his arm at the time keeper yelling “RING THE BELL!” The bell rings~
Smith: Lurrr wants to kill Scruff but he can’t afford to waste anymore time.
Hood: Nope, thirty seconds will be EASY for Meyhu to top.
Smith: Indeed
~Lurrr, understanding the situation, stops chasing Scruff and covers Black. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~Lurrr instantly looks up at the clock after the bell sounds. 00:35. He turns his attention toward Scruff. Scruff rolls out of the ring, staying clear from Lurrr. Lurrr pops back to his feet and kicks at the bottom rope. He points at Scruff, yelling “YOU FUCKING SCREWED ME!” Scruff is halfway up the ramp, swallowing hard, ready to bolt if Lurrr leaves the ring~
Belvedere: The winner of this mach…setting a time to beat of thirty-five seconds…LURRR!!!!!
Smith: Lurrr with thirty-five seconds!
Hood: I think they tacked a few additional seconds on there! It was thirty…then the three count…how does that equal thirty-five?
Smith: Well he did have to get down and cover the man…it isn’t like he’s the Flash, Hood.
Hood: Well of course he’s not the FLASH. Who the fuck wants to be the FLASH? He’d be Batman, obviously.
~Lurrr remains in the ring, steaming. He kicks Black out, clearing the ring of any and everything~
Smith: Lurrr continues to stew out here. Hopefully we can get him removed before Meyhu’s turn.
Hood: Lurrr will leave when he’s good and ready!
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
~The night has begun to settle in Key West, Florida as we find ourselves outside of the OCW Arena. Duce Jones, self-proclaimed, ‘Kid that Never Dies’, makes his way through the back door exit. He appears to be talking to someone on his cell phone as he makes his towards what seems to be a designated destination.~
Duce Jones: Damn… dat's crazy bruh..
~He listens to the other end, inattentively walking along the back parking lot without a thought.~
Duce Jones: So you're a zebra now?
~He listens again, this time pulling an already rolled blunt from his black hoodie.~
Duce Jones: Jon's really been a dick lately..
~He's cut off. A chuckle escapes his body.~
Duce Jones: Yeah dat's true.. I did lose my cool on a commentata’.. He just kept running his mouth though…
~He's interrupted again. He listens for a minute, producing his lighter and setting the tip of the blunt on fire. Deep inhale.~
Duce Jones: Freddie.. It's all good.. I signed on with OCW now.. Thangs been pretty straight so far, 'cept fo’ Biff.. He's been givin’ me shit bout, how he beat Pops back in tha day.. But I ain't swe….
???: Duce! You mind if I get a word?
~Startled, Duce nearly jumps out of his skin, crashing into a stack of boxes. The blunt he once was smoking had been thrown about. Luckily his cell phone didn't receive any damage as it mysteriously lands in his lap. Duce quickly reaches for his phone and checks the screen for cracks.. Thankfully there are none. He brings the phone to his ear.~
Duce Jones: Aye Freddie.. ya still there?
~He receives no response which brings involuntary curse word spewing from his mouth. Jones looks up and spots AKB who stands over him with a microphone.~
Duce Jones: Ya kno’ it's rude ta try an’ interrupt a person on tha phone? Ya lucky I didn't break my shit or I'd be breakin’ ya ass right now…
AKB: Hahaaa.. promises..
Duce Jones: What?
AKB: You need help up?
Duce Jones: Naw I got it…
~Duce gets to his feet and brushes himself off.~
Duce Jones: I done lost my fuckin’ blunt.. Shit!
~Duce pats himself as if it's going to magically appear. He looks around in a panic before turning back to the interviewer.~
AKB: I'm sure you'll find, but Duce I was wanting ask.. This past week you and The Big Bifford exchanged words on Twitter. Bifford also came out and appeared to issue a challenge...do you care to elaborate?
Duce Jones: All I'm gonna say bout dat is.. he keeps comin’ fo’ me.. Constantly braggin’ bout how he beat me and my Pops.. I usually don't give a fuck bout losin’ ta a Hall'a Famer cuz there's always a lesson ta be learned.. But dis guy sho can beat a dead owl into submission. An’ fo’ long.. he gon make me shove his antagonizin’ toungue back down his muthafuckin’ throat! Now data all ya gettin’ outta me cuz I gotta find my blunt..
~Duce goes back to searching for his blunt, ignoring any questioning that AKB could've thrown his way. Jones searches through the knocked over boxes, using his nose in imitation of a bloodhound as he frantically looks. He soon smells smoke and tosses one of the boxes side. He spots it, still lit, burning a hole through a t-shirt that spilled out of the box.~
Duce Jones: T'fuck is dis shit..?
~Picking the blunt up, he throws it back between his lips and inhales, the cherry glowing orange in the night. He also picks up the shirt and twists it so he can have a better view. Exhaling the smoke he quickly begins to survey the wreckage of boxes and it appears that a light bulb has gone off..~
Duce Jones: One man's trash is anotha’ one's treasure..
~Duce grabs one of the boxes and opens it and we now notice them to be the 'TBA’ shirts that “The Marvel” Matt Meyhu tossed out last week. Duce loads the shirt back into the box and lifts it onto his shoulder, carrying on about his business as the scene cuts back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: It appears as though we are, in fact, headed toward Duce/Biff III
Hood: And Duce appears to have the t-shirt crisis of 2019 solved!
Smith: T-shirt crisis? I wasn't aware of any t-shirt crisis.
Hood: I just kind of made it up.
Smith: Lying on air...tremendous.
|
|
Beat the Clock
Matt Meyhu (35-4) vs. Tony the Spider (7-8)
~We cut back to the ring. Lurrr remains within the ropes. He sees the clock reset to 00:00. He hops through the ropes and heads toward the announce table. Scruff carefully makes his way back to the ring. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is the second match in the Beat the Clock challenge! For Meyhu to win he must defeat Tony the Spider in UNDER thrty-five seconds! If he achieves this goal then he will select the stipulation for his match against Lurrr at Not Safe For Work! Introducing first…
~“Jump” by Van Halen hits. Smoke fills the entrance. Tony the Spider emerges!!! His tiny, circular shades hide his eyes. He’s got a smile on his face, laughing while he marches down the ramp. His head does that ‘chicken’ peck motion with his mullet proudly flopping around in a messy, yet organized manner. He reaches the ring and rolls inside~
Belvedere: From Emilio’s Garage…Tony the Spider!!!
Smith: Tony the Spider, everyone!
Hood: Fuck that shit…here comes Lurrr!
Smith: I’d say hi but I don’t want to get kicked.
Lurrr: Sounds like you’re finally smartening up.
Hood: How’s it going big guy? Looked great out there!
Lurrr: Yea I was…greater than Great Scott, even. Things were going great until Scruff McfuckingDougal screwed me out of thirty seconds!
Smith: To be fair, you jumped the gun.
Lurrr: Who asked you?
Hood: YEA!
Lurrr: Shitty officiating, crooked politics all meant to give Meyhu another title shot.
Smith: To be fair, he’s already GOT a title shot.
Lurrr: SHUT UP
Hood: Yea, shut up, Smith!
~Tony opens up his fanny pack, removing a FLAMIN HOT Cheeto. He sticks it in his mouth and chews while awaiting the entrance of the man himself, Matt Meyhu~
~The MARVEL steps out from behind the curtain. He marches, proudly toward the ring. He runs up the steps and leaps over the top rope, surpassing CMF’s agility…perhaps a subtle jab at Farthington’s way. Meyhu hits the mat and walks around, showing great presence. He stops, spotting Lurrr at the announce table~
Belvedere: And his opponent…from Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 240lbs...he is a former OCW Champion, he is in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is “The Marvel” Matt Meyhu!!!
Smith: And there he is! The man who helped build the company you see today.
Lurrr: EXCUSE ME?
Smith: Well, I mean, this new era.
Lurrr: There wouldn’t BE an OCW if it weren’t for me.
Hood: Hey, look…Meyhu’s yelling at you!
Lurrr: Yea, I see that. He can yell all he wants. I’m tired of all his talk. Let’s see if he can beat my time.
Smith: Okay, just as long as you stay put.
Lurrr: I won’t promise you anything, Smith.
Hood: You gonna stay seated, Lurrr?
Lurrr: Maybe, since you asked me to, Hood.
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds. The clock starts ticking. Meyhu looks at Tony. Tony laughs. Tony charges at Meyhu, laughing. Meyhu drills him with HUBRIS!!! Tony crashes to the mat. We see the clock reaching ten seconds. Meyhu stands over Tony, looking at an invisible watch around his wrist~
Smith: What’s he doing?!
Hood: I think he’s just going to let Lurrr have this one.
Lurrr: Oh no he’s not…he’s being a dick! Fuck you, Meyhu!
~We’ve hit twenty seconds. Meyhu pulls Tony off the mat and swiftly drops him with EGO TRIP. Tony is down. Meyhu pops back to his feet. He sees twenty-five seconds on the clock. He kicks Tony onto his back…positioning him near the ropes, not on purpose. Meyhu looks over his shoulder as the clock nears thirty~
Smith: He’d better hurry!
Hood: This is a total slap in the face, Lurrr. Wouldn’t you agree?
Lurrr: That’s it…I’m tired of people making me look like a dumbass tonight. I don’t get fucked…I do the fucking!
~Lurrr throws his headsets down. Meyhu covers Tony. The clock is at thirty. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
Smith: Hey!! Lurrr put Tony’s foot on the rope!
Hood: No he didn’t…Tony kicked out of Ego Trip! My gosh, Tony the Spider is manlier than the entire OCW roster!
Smith: Yea, right
~Lurrr is yelling at Scruff “FOOT ON THE ROPE!” Scruff sees and stops counting. The clock hits thirty-five seconds and a giant X displays, followed by a ‘you lost’ buzzing sound. Meyhu pops to his feet. Lurrr claps, reaching in under the bottom rope and patting Tony on the chest. Tony is unresponsive~
Smith: Lurrr CHEATED
Hood: Lurrr is the Beat the Clock champion!
Smith: Ugh
~Meyhu places his foot on Tony’s chest, wanting the win, at least~
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner…“THE MARVEL” MATT MEYHU!!!!!
~Meyhu slides under the bottom rope, going after Lurrr. Lurrr’s back is to Meyhu. Meyhu spins Lurrr around. He throws HUBRIS at Lurrr. Lurrr ducks. Meyhu spins around and gets hit with THE WAKE UP CALL!!! Meyhu’s body snaps back, onto the floor. Lurrr stands over him, cursing and screaming. He walks over, grabbing a headset~
Lurrr: Fuck this guy! You all saw that…I’m the beat the clock champion! I pic the stipulation…I’m going to retain my Hall of Fame Championship, I’m going to earn a shot at the OCW Title and I’m going to show everyone that I’m STILL the greatest in OCW history!
~Lurrr slams the headset down and walks off. A few OCW medics tend to Meyhu~
Smith: Lurrr is in rare form tonight.
Hood: Embracing his roots…I like it!
Smith: I’m told that’s official, folks. Lurrr has won the Beat the Clock challenge…via cheating.
Hood: Look, Scruff screwed Lurrr against Jackson Black anyway…this was only fair.
Smith: No, it wasn’t fair…and now he gets to pick the stipulation giving him a decided advantage heading into Not Safe For Work. I don’t say this often but I think Meyhu is getting screwed.
~There's no duck, no fancy backdrops to draw the eye or dazzle the crowd. Granted, that is one hell of a good duck, even though this vignette isn't about him. Rather, it features Kitty Petrova, the former Paradigm Champion sitting on top of a picnic table outside the OCW Arena. The words RECORDED EARLIER flash across the screen for a moment and silence reigns while she finishes off her cigarette. There's a large oil drum in front of her – it's probably been used as a trash can outside for ages, judging by the amount of rust coating the outside. It isn't important, really, other than being the only other focal point besides the former champion herself. She crushes out her cancer stick on the wood beside her before beginning to speak~
Kitty Petrova: There used to be a saying back home… you might have heard it before: 'if you don't like the weather, just wait a few hours. It'll change.' I never thought that was going to apply here, of all places. And now? Well, things have changed so fast it'll make your head spin. Hayley Robinson beat me. Undefeated for five months and it was cut short in an instant by the most ungrateful, spiteful little shit in the wrestling business. She showed up last week and rather than showcase her newly won hardware… rather than enjoy the spoils of war…
~She pushes her hair behind her ears, looking down into the barrel for a moment as though something inside has captured her focus. With effort, she swallows hard and shakes her head slowly~
Kitty Petrova: There's no method in this madness, nothing to be gained and I feel like everything I accomplished here has been undone in an instant by such casual disregard. I feel like I'm being the bad guy here, in pointing out the flaws like some armchair quarterback – idiots of a feather flock together, isn't that how it goes? My streak was broken. My title reign ended. My life, my career as I know it has been turned upside-down and I don't know if I should blame Ross Hanson or Hayley Robinson or my own petard at this point. It's easy to blame someone else, isn't it? It's easy to make a career out of finding that angst, of manufacturing a slight out of nothing. She may as well have tossed the belt on the floor and urinated all over it. She may as well have spit in the face of every former champion who held that gold before her. Why, Hayley? Why?
~Kitty sighs, raking a hand through her hair~
Kitty Petrova: Putting your career on the line a second time makes no sense. Letting Mike bait you into this – I expected more of you, I guess. I expected you to behave like a champion rather than a spoiled child hours past nap time. I know he yanked your chain. That's what he does best, after all. And I suppose it's easier to direct my anger at you rather than running the highlight reel of humiliation in my head. Nothing to be gained there except opening the doorway to depression and self-loathing. God knows they already have a foothold. But you, Hayley, you're something else. Maybe you think you have to keep pushing, have to keep chasing the spotlight even though it's shining on you. Without it, you're nothing, after all. An afterthought. But if you can beat Mike Best after beating me? Well, that will earn you the status you so desperately crave. That will surely net you the praise you're after. It's sad, really. See, I was going to ask for my rematch... I was going to demand recompense.
~From behind her back, she pulls out a shiny replica of the championship belt that now rests with Hayley. It's obvious by the size that this isn't the real thing. She runs her fingers over the raised lettering, closing her eyes for a moment~
Kitty Petrova: Greed always picks my pockets – that's so common in our industry. Like Pavlov's dog, I don't cringe when the bell rings, when I hear the sound of violence. No, sweetie, I salivate. You show me the shiny gold and I'm making a puddle on the floor. To me, both serve as a hell of a catalyst. Glory and pain get my blood pumping. You know that. You've always known that – I never tried to hide it. But there comes a time when we must put aside childish things.
~She drops the belt into the bin, listening to it clatter among the trash inside~
Kitty Petrova: You ruined everything, Hayley. It doesn't matter. It's time to put away childish things. It's time to move on.
~She pulls out a battered Zippo lighter, striking it slowly and watching the flame surge to life. It's reflected in her eyes for a moment before she drops it in the can, that crooked smirk in place on her lips as there's a whoosh of flame. She doesn't look back, doesn't say anything further before getting up and walking away, leaving that trash fire burning bright to serve as her object lesson~
Smith: Kitty took that loss to Hayley hard...and Hayley's actions post-victory have kept the wound from healing.
Hood: Hayley's an idiot. She proved why a promotion should never put her anywhere near a belt.
Smith: Maybe...maybe not. Maybe she goes out there tonight and shuts Mike Best up.
Hood: Even IF that happens...what does it serve? What was the point? Risking everything for a win...a single, solitary win? Who does she think she is, fucking Spartacus? No, she's the Paradigm Champion...she has a contender in Farthington. She should respect that title and its division and ACT like a champion acts. But, I guess that's simply asking too much from a bird brained product of incest hailing from the shithole known as Pine Bluff.
Smith: Well, okay then. I won't even try to follow that up. Mike Best and Hayley Robinson is up next...if Mike wins, Hayley's career is over. If Hayley wins...well, she just wins. Let's go down to ringside
|
|
Non-Title Match
Career Match
Mike Best © (10-0) vs. Hayley Robinson © (14-7)
~“HAYLEY”chants are already underway. These fans are well aware of what awaits. They are firmly behind Robinson. She’s a hero. She’s a beloved up and comer. She finally broke through…these fans are PINING to see her continue her ascension. They’ve spent so much fucking time watching her grow it’d be a shame for it all to come to an end…over nothing. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Non-Title CAREER match! It will feature the OCW Champion taking on the Paradigm Champion. If Mike Best wins, Hayley Robinson’s OCW career is over. If Hayley Robinson wins…well, she just wins. Introducing first!
~The fans murmur. It seems like Hayley really kinda fucked herself over this stipulation~
Smith: I still don’t get it, Hood.
Hood: Nobody does, Smith.
~“Mouth for War” by Pantera hits! The fans go wild!! The OCW Paradigm Champion stands at the top of the ramp. She holds one end of the belt, via the strap and drags it along the ramp as she makes her way to the ring. She’s focused. She doesn’t view this as a trap. She obviously sees this as an opportunity~
Belvedere: From Pine Bluff, Arkansas…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 130lbs…she is the OCW Paradigm Champion…Hayley Robinson!!!
Smith: And there she is!
Hood: Look at how she’s dragging that BEAUTIFUL belt. Such disrespect! WE NEED KITTY BACK!
Smith: Kitty’s still here, relax.
Hood: BACK AS CHAMPION. You remember those times, Smith? Those were some good times.
~Hayley slides into the ring and pops to her feet. She holds the belt high before doing some head banging. The crowd chants her name. All is well…until it isn’t. "Everybody Loves Me" by OneRepublic RUINS the fun! The fans BOOOOO~
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~Hayley turns, glaring up the ramp. The OCW Champion himself…MIKE BEST steps out atop the rampway, his OCW Title wrapped prestigiously around his waist. He looks around, taking in the reaction. He then stares at Hayley and smiles, happy to end her career this evening~
Smith: The arrogance of this man.
Hood: He’s living on a naturaly high tonight, Smith! The man is AIDS FREE!
Smith: Talk about a sham! Talk about a drama queen!
Hood: Oh so I guess if you thought you had AIDS you’d go out for a sundae? Maybe hit up a blood drive?
Smith: I WOULD NEVER
Belvedere: From Chicago, Illinois…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 225lbs…he is the OCW Champion…Mike Best!!!
~Best makes his way down the ramp, slapping the plate of his OCW Title along the way. Unlike Hayley, he appears to be experiencing an extreme level of comfort with this situation. The man has battled them all…a true veteran at the main event level. Hayley crouches in her corner, Paradigm Title on the mat in front of her. She stares at the mat, her white hair covering her face. Best hustles up the steps and calmly enter into the ring~
Smith: C’mon, Hayley…C’mon!
Hood: Look at the aplomb of our OCW Champion. The man couldn’t be more at ease if he were getting a full body massage at some temporary parlor.
~Belveder takes Best’s OCW Title. He’s happy to hand it over…most people are when they know they’ll be getting something back in equal if not superior condition. We’re not saying Belvedere shines the belts up during the match…but we wouldn’t put it past this great man. Belvedere walks over to Hayley who is still facing down. He seems unsure over how to proceed…is she going to lunge at him if he tries to grab her belt?~
Smith: We’re all still getting used to Hayley as a champion.
Hood: I wouldn’t get TOO used to it. Be a waste of fucking adaptation.
~Hayley finally looks up. She grabs her title and stands, handing it over to Belvedere. He takes it and exits the ring. The bell sounds. The fans are on their feet, they continue to chant “HAYLEY”. Hayley takes off, surprising Mike! She nails him with forearm shots to the head! Mike stumbles back, into his corner. Hayley lifts a few knees into his sternum, subduing the undefeated champion. Robinson jumps up, cracking Mike in the jaw with a knee! He leans back, eyes wide, clearly stunned. Hayley jumps onto the middle rope and punches Mike in the head, repeatedly. The fans are going wild “YES! YES!” Hayley stops, grab onto Mike, falls back and tosses Mike into the center of the ring with a Monkey Flip!! The fans are on their feet! They are feeling the energy~
Smith: What a start for Hayley Robinson!!
Hood: Yea, yea…let her have her fun. This is like that MORON who shows up to a party and does six straight shots. You know he’s going to be crashed the fuck out before everyone else only to wake up with a giant dildo on his face.
Smith: What kind of parties did YOU attend?
Hood: Normal ones.
~Hayley is back on her feet, feeding off the energy!! She stomps her feet and charges at Mike, giving out a battle cry while doing so. Mike pops to his feet out of nowhere!! He grabs Hayley and uses her momentum to spin around and SLAM her into the canvas!! The fans all sit down…they are disappointed. Mike kneels over Hayley, rubbing his jaw and head. The man looks PISSED. He grabs Hayley by the head, before she can get up, and begins to repeatedly bash the back of her head into the mat. The fans go from disappointed to angry…they boooo~
Smith: No!
Hood: Hahaha, yes! Teach that bitch a lesson!
Smith: The back of the head is very vulnerable to unnatural impact.
Hood: Oh, please, as if there’s anything up there worth damaging.
~Best stands. Hayley is holding the back of her head, rolling onto her side in obvious pain. Best calls her a bitch and kicks her in the back as hard as he can. She rolls over, near the corner. Best savagely grabs Hayley by the hair, ripping her off the canvas and throwing her into the corner. Hayley hits hard. Best delivers a vicious backhand across Hayley’s face. He proceeds to call her a ‘dumb cunt’. Hayley’s head hangs toward the mat. The fans are chanting “ASSHOLE” at the OCW Champion. Mike takes a moment to respond to the negative chant. Hayley fires up! She punches Mike in the chest with some palm strikes. He stumbles back. Hayley leaps up for another jumping knee…but Mike catches her and throws her over his head with a Capture Suplex!! Hayley hits hard…the fans, who found a smidge of hope, are back in their seats, arms folded~
Smith: I…I guess we should talk about what Hayley’s put at stake in this one. It really…makes no sense. And I say that as a fan of Hayley Robinson.
Hood: It is without a doubt the STUPIDEST move a wrestler has made in OCW. It’s fucking dumber than Slutty McJizz complaining because Syren ‘wasn’t good enough’ to compete with him. SLUTTY MCFUCKINGJIZZ.
Smith: That delusional fool doesn’t deserve any further airtime. We’re talking about Hayley Robinson…she finally breaks through and puts her CAREER on the line? I don’t get it.
Hood: And for what? Some form of misguided triumph? Fucking respect? Bitch you EARNED respect two weeks back when you beat Kitty! Winning this match won’t get you respect…it just shows that Mike played you like a fucking fiddle.
~Mike jumps on top of a prone Hayley. He slams the back of her head into the mat once again. She’s slow moving. Mike locates his HOW HOF ring and positions it. The fans boo…they yell at Scruff to stop him. Scruff looks around like they’re chanting for HIM. Dude is confused. Mike throws a right hand, ring first don into Hayley’s forehead! It CONNECTS! The blunt force is brutal, splitting Hayley open instantly. Mike’s eyes almost lust over the sight. He reaches back for another one. Fans PLEAD with Scruff…he turns around and sees the blood coming from Hayley’s head and Mike’s cocked fist. He rushes over, tackling Mike off of Hayley. The fans are happy…but also annoyed it didn’t happen sooner~
Smith: C’mon, Scruff! You need to be ready for anything when Mike Best is involved!
Hood: Mike throwing caution into the wind.
Smith: Risking a DQ?
Hood: Oh no…he was recently cleared of AIDS. Now he’s busting up some dirty skank from Arkansas. AIDS warning has to be in effect.
Smith: Oh please.
~Mike shoves Scruff off him and threatens him with the HOF ring. Scruff points at his ref shirt. Best doesn’t allow anger to cloud judgment. He stands, scowling at Scruff. He turns and notices Hayley, on her knees. She’s clearly half gone at this point. Not known to turn down an opportunity, Best hits the ropes…he bounces off and charges at Hayley, drilling her with I KNEED A HERO!! Hayley is OUT!!! The fans are distraught. Several young, female fans appear on the verge of tears. Mike can’t contain his laugher as he makes the cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3…NO..
Smith: OH COME ON
Hood: Haha, I love it!
Smith: She’s been through ENOUGH
~Mike PULLED the shoulder off the mat before three. The fans BOOOO. I mean, her career is still alive but it’s still a dick move. Scruff shakes his head at Mike’s act. Mike says something along the lines of “I’ll decide when her career ends. I’m not finished.” The fans chant “FUCK YOU, MIKE!” Best nods…the chants simply affirm that he’s on the right path~
Smith: Oh come on! If it’s over let it end! Don’t torture this poor girl!
Hood: Hayley bit off more than she could chew, Smith. She’s got to choke to learn her lesson.
Smith: That is a terrible analogy.
Hood: But it works!
~Best pops to his feet. Hayley is on her back. Mike looks at his right hand, it’s stained with Robinson’s blood. He works his HOF ring back and forth, getting it positioned in the desired spot. Hayley starts to sit up. We see a gash at the top of her forehead leaking blood down her face. She’s obviously dazed, possibly concussed…but her instincts are willing her up. She gets to one knee. Mike turns around and points at her as if to say “It’s about time.” He hits the ropes…he bounces off and throws a second I Kneed a Hero! Hayley grabs his leg and takes him down with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip!!!! Best hits the mat, hard! He grabs his leg!! He onto the apron. Hayley collapses to the mat. The fans go wild!! They are on their feet, stomping and clapping~
Smith: Dragon screw out of nowhere! Hayley’s busted open and on dream street but the instincts instilled in her by ‘coach’ have paid off!
Hood: Fucking hell! That’s a ten million dollar knee, at least! Let’s end this fucking match and preserve Mike for next week!
Smith: He had his chance, Hood. And his hubris got the better of him.
Hood: I hate plants!
~Mike sits up on the apron in clear frustration. He slaps at his knee. Hayley rolls onto her side, eventually reaching all fours. Mike pulls himself up and puts some weight on the knee…it’s shaky, but recovering. Hayley gets to her feet. She stumbles around. She nears Mike. Her back is to the OCW Champion. Mike reaches in, looking to grab Hayley. She feels his hand and leaps into the air…she hits Mike with a Pele Kick!! Mike flies off the apron, landing hard on the outside. Hayley crawls around and hangs over the bottom rope, gasping for air while keeping a watch on Mike. We see blood dripping from her chin to the mat. She runs her hand through her hair, staining it with red~
Smith: Pele kick!! The champ is rocked!
Hood: It’s Kitty Petrova all over again! Hayley Robinson is trying to close OCW!
Smith: Let’s not get dramatic.
Hood: If EVER there was a call for drama…now is the time!
~Best sits up, shaking his head, stunned from the kick. Scruff yells out “ONE!” Hayley turns her attention to the ref standing over her. He yells “TWO!” The fans count along. Scruff yells “THREE!” Best falls back down, showing that the Pele Kick did more damage than first realized. Scruff yells “FOUR!”~
Smith: Could we see a count out?
Hood: Talk about some WEAK ASS BOOKING
Smith: If Mike Best is counted out then Hayley keeps her job!
Hood: FUCKING LAME
~Scruff yells “FIVE!” Hayley looks out at Mike, who hasn’t move. Scruff yells “SIX!” The fans are chanting “YES!” Scruff yells “SEVEN!”~
Smith: She’s gonna do it! Count out over the champion!
Hood: I think it’s time I signed with another promotion. This is some BULLSHIT
~Hayley looks around and shakes her head, yelling “NO!” She hops through the ropes. Scruff hesitates for a minute. The crowd, at first, is nonplussed. They were ALL IN on the countout. But they realize what she’s doing and go crazy again. Hayley marches her bloodied head toward Mike. Scruff yells “EIGHT!”~
Smith: She doesn’t want a count out, Hood! She wants to win this OUTRIGHT!
Hood: WHAT AN IDIOT!
Smith: I think it shows sportsmanship. It shows her competitive nature! I like it! Win it in the ring, girl!
~Hayley reaches Mike and grabs him. Mike thumbs her in the eye!! Hayley stumbles back toward the ring. The fans boo. Mike pops back to his feet, looking fine. He runs up and SLAMS Hayley head first into the apron, leaving a big, red splotch. Scruff yells “NINE!” Mike tosses Hayley in the ring before sliding in behind~
Smith: NO!
Hood: Mike baited her!
Smith: You think? It was rather risky…
Hood: Well he wasn’t going to lay out there the entire ten seconds…but no doubt he laid there hoping she’d come after him…and, guess what…the idiot did just that!
~Back in the ring, Hayley is on her knees, near a corner. Mike backs up, measuring Hayley. He charges forward with I Kneed a Hero! Hayley ducks and rolls forward! Mike runs into the corner. He turns around. Hayley, back on her feet, charges in and DRILLS Mike with South of Heaven!!! Mike, like Kitty a few weeks earlier, stumbles forward. Hayley spins around, looking to finish Mike off like she did Kitty with Hell Awaits!! Mike ducks!! Hayley finds the corner. She turns around and eats a V-Trigger from Mike!!! Hayley stumbles forward. Mike hops onto the second buckles…Hayley turns around and eats I KNEED A HERO!! Her body slams into the mat!! Mike holds his knee for a moment before making the cover. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. The fans drop into their seats…depressed~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…he is the OCW Champion…MIKE BEST!!!!!
Smith: NOOOOO
Hood: Haha, YES
Smith: Is this it…is this REALLY it? Is her career truly over in OCW?
Hood: 100%
Smith: Ugh…just…why? WHY???
Hood: Because…stupidity, Smith. Most of the time…all winners have to do is sit back and watch losers implode. That’s what Hayley did. She won a title…had everything in front of her…a marquee slot on a PPV…a chance to parlay that into an OCW Title match and what did she do…what did she do? SHE THREW IT ALL AWAY
Smith: She looked to be on her way to the main event…now…
Hood: She’s on her way to the unemployment line. Later!
~Scruff checks on Hayley. OCW Champion Mike Best rolls out of the ring, retrieving his championship. He looks in the ring and waves ‘bye’ at Hayley to a shower of boos. He couldn’t care less. He makes his way up the ramp, holding his OCW Title high in the air~
Smith: And once again Mike Best does his best to ruin the career of an up and coming star.
Hood: This is Hayley’s fault, Smith. Just like it was Kortare’s fault a few weeks back. You act like Mike is out here killing people. He’s merely supplying the rope..it’s not his fault these people would rather hang themselves with it than use it for an intended, useful purpose.
Smith: It just makes me sick! SICK! A young career thrown away…FOR NOTHING. Ah well…the show must go on.
~We cut backstage. Welsh is on the tail end of a stressful conversation~
Marcus Welsh: Yes, yes…I understand. Yes, sure. It will be replaced very soon, I promise. Yes. All the time you can give me. Thanks, Kayla…I owe you one.
~About to hang up, Welsh is kept on the phone for one final agenda~
Marcus Welsh: Oh, really? Well, yea, we can definitely do something like that…sure. For you, Kayla…anything. Again, much appreciated.
~Knux steps into view. Marcus is startled. Once he sees it’s Knux, he finds relief~
Marcus Welsh: Whew…thought you were Greg. What’s up, big guy?
Knux: Here are the numbers…so far.
~Welsh looks the figures over. He appears to nearly vomit. Knux pats him on the back~
Marcus Welsh: How am I going to replace all this money? Kayla is a sweetheart, buying me some time but she’s not going to lose her fucking job over this. I’ve got to find a way to come up with a surplus of extraneous cash…FAST.
Knux: Could sell something.
Marcus Welsh: Yea, but what? I love all my possessions.
Duck: QUACK
~Welsh and Knux both turn, spotting THE DUCK. It’s seated very nicely inside it’s box. The duck is so fucking nice. We’re almost pulled to tears over its beauty~
Marcus Welsh: You don’t think…
Knux: People do seem to like the duck.
Marcus Welsh: We could hold a tournament for the duck. Institute an entry fee…open it up to everyone. Not just wrestlers, but also fans. You think that would generate enough money to fill the void?
Knux: It’d help, at least.
Marcus Welsh: We can call it the Quack Cup. Yes, Quack Cup…for the duck. This…this might work, right?
~Knux has his doubts. But Welsh is a desperate man. In the background we spot a man fanning himself. Once he comes into view we notice it’s Farthington!! He’s fanning himself with several hundred dollar bills, trying to look oblivious. We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: The Quack Cup? Seriously?
Hood: Beats that other cup going on…what do they call it, the [censored] cup?
Smith: Certainly not! Such abrasive language, my goodness!
Hood: Well it FEELS like it should be called the [censored] cup.
Smith: Please, stop talking. Our GM is desperate...resorting to using the Duck in something called the QUACK CUP to try and replace the funds lost via the Sports Book
Hood: Maybe he should ask Farthington...
Smith: A certain cecil of considerable worth has been eyeing that duck. I think, at the very least, he'd be considered a major contender for the Quack Cup. Whatever the heck that entails, anyway
~OCW arena goes dark and the faithful sit in silence when familiar words echo through the rafters~
Where the hood..
Hood: He’s here! The mystery is solved Smith!
Smith: What mystery, Choad?
Hood: I see what you did there.
Smith: Could it be though?! Could it really be?
Hood: Do not look away, Do not adjust your television screens or avert your eyes because BOB HAS RETURNED TO THE OCW ARENA!
~The highly offensive rap classic blasts through the arena and the fans stand as Bob Grenier makes his way through the curtain, a little slower than normal but not without the same brash confidence. He slowly walks down the aisle dressed in his street clothes and a toque, how canadian is that eh? Fans who know the words rap the lyrics as Bob mouths the words to himself silently. He climbs in the ring and asks for a mic.~
Bob: The roosters are crowing and the cows are spinning in the pasture, As sure as Kennedy killed the hat and video killed the radio star, I have made my triumphant return to the OCW Arena.
~He raises his arms in celebration and receives a mild applause~
Smith: When we last saw Bob, He was kind of a dick.
Hood: Indeed he was! People don’t forget that either.
Smith: I definitely expected a bigger ovation.
Bob: I’d like to get to the matters at hand if I may..
~He stops speaking and looks out over the sea of people. A fracture of a smile emerges and the ovation he receives grows a little louder than the previous one.~
Bob: "For the past 5 years I have been a pillar of Online Championship Wrestling. Due to the wars we wage and the nature of our program, 5 years in OCW time equates to a 25 year career in this business.. I'm 35 years old and I cannot bend down to tie my own boots, My doctor tells me I have the brain of a 75 year old man from all the times my head has been scrambled in this company and I wouldn't go back and change a damn thing. I'd be so honored to hear my name echoing through the rafters of this arena once again but be warned, should you choose not to bask in my light, in due time I will force those naysayers onto their filthy knee's so they can worship at the altar that is Bob fucking Grenier.
~The crowd finally seems to accept Grenier once again and they erupt in applause and stomp their feet on the floor creating a thunderous noise~
Bob: Now let’s get down to the real business at hand.. My back, It isn’t as strong as she once was. I’m a divorced, 35 year old man who cannot bend down to tie his own shoes. My wife is the road and my children are each and every one of you. I happen to also have a mistress.. She’s a cruel one too, This mistress is the OCW World Heavyweight Championship. Let me make something very clear..
~He lowers his head for a few seconds and shakes his head~
Bob: I’ve been here for 5 years and I’m tired. I’m at home on my couch, smoking weed, watching the show , nursing my ailing back and trying to take care of my health when I see The eMpire on my television screen, Getting all the preferential treatment, The high stakes matchups, Main events.. Mike Best is our champion and it feels to me he was fast tracked to that title because he’s the great and wonderful Mike Best, Give me a goddamn break. They just open the goddamn door of this place and let anyone in now? I don’t give a shit whether or not you are a Hall of Famer in some other pissant little company but this is OCW and when you come in here you start on the fucking bottom like I did. I kept watching these guys, and other outsiders being shoved down our throats and I realized it’s been happening for quite some time.. It’s happening with The eMpire, Exactly like it happened with Aptitude. OCW management seems to have lost faith in the faces that you are all familiar with. The faces that helped build this company. Chad Vargas is sitting at The Glory Hole right now because “they got nothing for him” after we lost our Tag Team Titles and it makes me sick. It’s going to end and I am going to be the one to put a stop to it. It’s time to topple the eMpire! It’s time to stymie the outsiders! It’s time to get OCW back to where it belongs And once that happens…once the dust settles I can promise each and every one of you that Bob Grenier will be -
~The house lights drop.~
~The entire room is swathed in black for a split second before speckles of smartphone flashlights begin blinking on in every direction. There is a commotion everywhere at once, vaguely centered around the ring area. The OCW fans are buzzing at a fever pitch, aware that something is going on but not of what it is.~
~The darkness lingers momentarily.~
~CLAAAANG!~
~And then, illumination.~
Smith: It can’t be!
Hood: OH MY! YOU’D BETTER HOPE IT’S NOT!
~It is.~
~The first thing your eyes focus on is the lifeless body of Bob Grenier. Around his head is an almost comically dented steel chair. A trickle of blood drips from Grenier’s forehead and he’s clearly been knocked all the way out.~
Smith: What’s HE doing here?
Hood: That’s ERIC DANE! THE ONLY STAR! And Eric Dane goes wherever the fuck he wants and he does whatever the fuck he pleases!
Smith: If I’m not mistaken he’s something like a ten-time World Champion!
Hood: Ten-time, schmen-time! He might be a legend, but he’s in the OCW now!
~The Only Star stands there motionless, a wicked grin stretched wide across his face. He’s dressed in a leather jacket, silver and lime green tights, black boots, and a pair of shades covering his eyes that could probably pay off your house if you could just get your hands on them. The smirk widens as Dane raises one arm to acknowledge the thousands of screaming and chanting OCW fans.~
Smith: Don’t look now, but Dane’s got a live mic!
Hood: Ah, fuck, this could be trouble.
~The Antagonist raises the microphone to his lips, lingering momentarily before speaking.~
Dane: Started from the bottom, now we’re here. Am I right?
~The crowd pops hard.~
Dane: Is that cliche enough for you, you thirty-five-year-old piece of garbage? I’m twelve goddamned years older than you and I’ve been wrestling non-stop for three-quarters of your entire life and I’ll STILL beat the shit out of you every fucking day of the week and twice on Sunday!
~He pauses, snickering to himself.~
Dane: Well, I would, but you don’t seem to put up that much of a fight, do ya?
~The End Boss sends a boot swiftly into the ribcage of what looks like the corpse of Bob Grenier.~
Dane: Yanno, I came to OCW because it’s all the rage on the innarwebs, hot shit on the HOTv and what have you. My good friend and your World Champion Mike Best tells me that this place is the cat’s pajamas if you will!
~The crowd sours at the mention of the leader of the eMpire.~
Dane: Whatever, Eric Dane isn’t any kind of eMpire clone, Eric Dane is a goddamned trailblazer! A Trendsetter! A NATIONAL muh-fugghin TREASURE and God’s Fucking Gift to OCW! You can better believe that Marcus Welsh took out a second and a third mortgage on his house just to get me to the fuckin’ table, and for what he paid me to show up here tonight and make you relevant for once in your bullshit career you could probably buy the island of Monaco!
~Another quick boot finds paydirt in Bob’s breadbasket, he writhes in pain. Dane squats down over him and smirks.~
Dane: Later on when you wake up, that is to say IF you wake up, I want you to run back the tape and understand what you did wrong here tonight, and I want you to run and tell all the other kiddies in the OCW pool what they can do to save themselves from having a chair wrapped around their heads too!
~In a final, dismissive display of disrespect, The Only Star spits at the fallen Canadian.~
Dane: You tell ‘em I don’t wanna hear not one fucking word of that four legs good two legs bad bullshit that I hear week in and week out every fucking place that I ever go, and that I absolutely KNOW runs rampant around these parts!
~The crowd, having had enough, begins to boo. Dane stands, regarding the OCW faithful at large. He smirks a smarmy smirk before going on.~
Dane: Hear me now and understand me well, I’ve got a fucking concussion on deck and ready for every last one if you ignorant bastards that have the low class to drone on at me about OCW Originals and how assmad it makes you all when somebody NEW and IMPROVED sets foot in the door! Allow me to make this perfectly clear, nevermind the fact that it’s been my mantra for ten years and unless there’s been a sudden uptick in the average IQ of your average wrestler it’s gonna be my mantra for ten more, if the management makes a habit to bring in actual stars to put actual asses in seats, and then fast tracks them into title shots and six-figure contracts, maybe it’s not the new guy’s faults!
~He smirks.~
Dane: Maybe you should, and hear me out here because I know this might be a fantastic concept to a few of you…
~The smirk widens.~
Dane: But maybe you ought to realize that you people and people like you JUST CAN’T HACK IT when it comes to selling tickets, selling t-shirts, and selling PAY-PER-VIEW BUYS!
~They boo, but he doesn’t care.~
Dane: That’s what I’ve been brought to OCW and signed to a ludicrous contract for, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. I’ll strap this company on my back like I have a thousand times before over the past twenty-five years, and I’ll take it to heights the likes of which you fuckwits couldn’t imagine with an infinite bankroll and the Game of Thrones writers on the payroll!
~The booing is getting to another level, Dane smiles.~
Dane: Now Bob, you run along and tell everybody that’ll listen what you learned here tonight. You be a good little boy and do as you're told and there JUST MIGHT Be a spot for you carrying my bags to the airport, okay sport? As far as the rest of you idiots go…
~He shrugs.~
Dane: Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
~Dane drops the mic. The booing only intensifies. He sidesteps Grenier as if he were a pile of trash. He steps through the ropes and heads up the ramp an official member of the OCW roster. OCW personnel rush the ring to check on Grenier. We cut to the announce team~
Smith: Eric Dane means business.
Hood: No shit, man. This guy doesn't fuck around. We see people come in and get over by being characters...by being outlandish...by being weird. Not Dane. Dane is going to walk up, tell you what's coming and there's not one fucking thing you can do to stop it's arrival.
Smith: He's as legend as the word's meaning. Don't confuse this man with the eMpire...don't confuse him with anything going on in OCW. He's here on his own accord looking to do what he does best, dominate.
Hood: Man I'm so fucking excited...Bob's gonna be pissed, though.
Smith: For sure...Bob's no stranger to war. He does not like to be made a fool of...he will have something for Dane. The question is...can he GET to Dane?
Hood: I don't know. But I'm sure GM Welsh is seeing dollar signs. He's not paying Dane to sit at home and show up every so often...I'd expect Dane to be in some sort of high profile match at Not Safe For Work...
Smith: It would seem...if Bob's up to it...that might be the logical destination.
Hood: Nostra-fucking-damus over here.
Smith: Eric Dane is in OCW! A major threat to EVERY championship has been added to the equation!
Where the hood…
Where the hood at..
OCW Presents: Not Safe For Work
Tag Team Championship
Paradigm Championship
Savage Championship
Hall of Fame Championship
OCW Championship
LIVE! Monday, June 17th 2019
From Schlitterbahn Waterpark in New Braunfels, TX
Craze Championship
Andrea Hernandez (c) vs. TBA
Team ATARI (c) vs. TBA
TBA vs. Cecilworth M! Farthington
Vincent Langston (c) vs. TBA
Lurrr (c) vs. Matt Meyhu
Mike Best (c) vs. TBA
|
|
OCW Craze Championship
Andrea Hernandez © (12-4) vs. Evin Empire (12-1)
~The fans are on their feet in anticipation of the Main Event. We see a ton of ‘Andrea Hernandez’ signs. There are a few Evin Empire signs in the crowd…but nothing close to the support being shown for the current Craze Champion. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening! The following contest is scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Craze Championship!!! Introducing first…
~The lights dim to black as the opening notes of "Ambitionz Az A Ridah" 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…Evin Empire!
Smith: This could be a crowning achievement for Evin Empire. The night he goes from blue chipper to main event star.
Hood: He’s been waiting to bust out for awhile now, Smith. The dude’s already a star…but can he become a champion?
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She she acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for what comes next~
Belvedere: Fom Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is the OCW Craze Champion…Andrea Hernandez!!!
~Andrea removes the Craze Title from around her waist and holds it high in the air. In the background we see Evin getting a good look at the gold. Andrea hands the title over the Belvedere who steps out of the ring~
Smith: Andrea’s a former Paradigm Champion…she’s the current Craze Champion…tonight she looks to successfully defend her Craze Title against quite possibly her greatest foe.
Hood: Yep, it was stated earlier…she’s faced legends and veterans. She’s made her name by slaying those legends and veterans. Tonight, however, SHE’S the veteran. A flipped script that could throw her off just enough to stumble and lose that belt.
~We’re just about set to get started when a voice rings out through the OCW Arena. Both Andrea and Evin turn toward the OCWTron~
Voice: Hold on! HOLD ON!
~The crowd boos when they see GM Marcus Welsh on screen. He frowns at the boos. Andrea puts her hands on her hips, expecting the worst. Evin stands back, curious~
Marcus Welsh: Don’t look at me like that, Andrea. I’m trying to make you a star.
~More boos~
Marcus Welsh: Of course I’d rather see Evin win…but, hey, we all have our favorites.
~More boos! Evin nods as if to say Marcus is a man of great taste. Andrea shakes her head…she can almost sense that the fix may be in~
Marcus Welsh: As you’re all well aware, our Not Safe For Work Main Event was moved up to next week. Mike Best will take on James Raven for the OCW Championship. That means we’ve got a big gaping hole at the top of the card. We’re also only THREE weeks from said event. So, we have got to fill that hole.
~Andrea looks up, suddenly curious. Evin begins to smile~
Marcus Welsh: The Paradigm Championship already has a match set…or well, it did have a match set. But, regardless, its occupied. The Savage Championship appears destined in its own direction…so that leaves one title without any sort of direction. A belt in PPV limbo, so to speak.
~The crowd begins to pop~
Marcus Welsh: Which is why I’m announcing that the winner of tonight’s main event will go on to headline Not Safe For Work against Mike Best or James Raven for the OCW Championship!!
~The crowd goes wild. Andrea seems stunned. Evin slaps his hands against the ropes, more ready than ever to compete~
Marcus Welsh: Alright, that is all. You guys do your thing.
~The screen cuts off. We focus back on the ring. Andrea turns, facing Evin. Evin paces back and forth, rotating his shoulders, staying lose. The fans are cheering. Scruff calls for the bell, it rings, and we are underway~
Smith: I can’t believe it, Hood! He winner of this match not only leaves with the Craze Title but they get an OCW Championship match at Not Safe For Work!
Hood: Somebody is going to be a STAR after this one, Smith.
Smith: A victory that vauts one of these two competitors right into the main event! I can’t believe it!
~Andrea begins circling…Evin follows suit. The two contenders who have suddenly been thrown into the deep end appear ready to swim. They leap forward, locking up in the center of the ring to a strong ovation. Evin uses his size and strength to bully Andrea back. She nears a corner. She quickly slips free and spins around, hooking Evin from behind. Evin finds the corner and feels Andrea with waist control. He reaches out, grabbing the ropes, his fac staring at the top buckle. Andrea walks him back, snaring his legs. Evin’s suddenly in the air, looking at the mat. He kicks his legs free and hooks them around Andrea’s head. He dives forward, tucking his head and avoiding a dangerous fall. In the process he pulls Andrea forward!! Her head dives straight for the top buckle…BUT she gets her hands up, preventing impact. She breathes a sigh of relief. She turns around and SMACK! She eats a superkick from Evin!! Andrea’s body flips over the top rope, it hits the apron hard before bouncing onto the outside floor. Evin extends his arms with an arrogant smirk. The fans boo~
Smith: I may not like his attitude, but that was a winning sequence for Evin Empire.
Hood: He’s been winning since he stepped foot into OCW, Smith. Andrea’s solid, but she’s no star. Evin is a future OCW Champion.
Smith: Keep underestimating Andrea. Mario did it; Bob did it…we all saw how that turned out.
Hood: Blah blah blah…now you’re starting to sound like an Andrea promo.
~Empire leaps over the top rope with ease, landing on the apron. Andrea reaches for the apron, using it as support to get to her feet. The superkick knocked her silly but she’s working to get back to a solid position. She reaches her feet. Empire charges forward and kicks her in the face!! Andrea flips over, landing front first on the outside floor!! Empire, on the apron, looks down. He leaps off, brings his knees to his chest and drives both feet into Andrea’s back!! Andrea yells out in pain, kicking her legs, reaching for her back. Evin’s momentum takes him into the barricade where he’s face to face with some angry fans. He pie faces one fan wearing a “IT’S STILL REAL TO ME, DAMNIT!” shirt. The guy drops his nachos and hits the floor, hard. The other fans around, keep their distance and have unexpected trouble finding anything negative to say~
Smith: Keep your hands to yourself, Evin!
Hood: Oh please, that fan is probably suffering from halitosis…getting his stank breath in Evin’s beautiful face.
Smith: The same face that kicked you out of his private box for that sporting event?
Hood: THAT WAS DOCTORED FOOTAGE
~Empire turns his focus back onto Andrea. She remains down. Scruff yells “ONE!” from inside the ring. Evin grabs Andrea by the hair and pulls her up…he throws her into the ring. He hops onto the apron. Andrea rolls toward the center, on her back. Evin hops up, springboards off the top rope and nails Andrea with a Guillotine Leg Drop!! He makes the cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Close but not quite.
Hood: Andrea’s choking, as usual. Chance to reach the main event and COUGH COUGH COUGH
Smith: While not the start she wanted I’d wait before declaring this one over.
Hood: Suit yourself. You probably bet on Ross fucking Hanson too, didn’t ya?
Smith: I don’t gamble.
~Evin slaps at the mat. Slight frustration but nothing major. He grabs Andrea by the hair and carries her to a standing position. Evin, standing in front of Andrea, let's go. She wobbles a bit. He throws a few quick strikes into Andrea’s jaw, knocking her head and hair around. He spins and drills her with a back fist!! Andrea falls into the ropes. Her legs buckle, causing her body to hit the middle rope. It springs her back up…Evin kicks her in the gut, hooks her and tosses her halfway across the ring with a Gut Wrench Suplex. Andrea hits hard and remains on the mat as Evin pops back to his feet, looking very confident~
Smith: Evin having his way with the Craze Champion.
Hood: Did you hear that?
Smith: Hear what?
Hood: The sound of Andrea’s grandfather disowning her and heading to the strip club for one last thrill.
Smith: Fans, don’t listen to the man seated next to me. I’m sure Andrea’s grandfather is watching this with great interest, rooting for this granddaughter!
Hood: If he can even remember who she is. For all we know he’s put a gun to his head and ended it all under the assumption Hayley was his granddaughter.
Smith: Okay, that’s enough out of you in regards to the Hernandez family!
~Andrea sits up. Evin walks up from behind, grabbing a handful of hair once more. He yanks her up…her back is facing Evin. Empire gains waist control and tosses Andrea over his head with a Release German!! Andrea lands on her feet! Evin kips up, thinking Hernandez is down. He arrogantly spins around and eats a dropkick!! Evin staggers into the ropes. Andrea, on one knee, springs forward and SPEARS Evin through the ropes, to the floor on the outside!! They land hard!! The back of Evin’s head slamming against the outside surface!! Andrea rolls away from Evin, staring up at the ceiling…she’s still reeling from his initial offensive outburst~
Smith: Strong move by the Craze Champion to try and swing the momentum back her way.
Hood: Stupid move. Keep shit like that up, and she’ll beat her senile grandfather to the finish line.
Smith: WHAT DID I JUST SAY?
Hood: Something about swinging momentum?
Smith: Ugh, nevermind.
~Evin sits up against the barricade, favoring his back. Andrea remains down. Evin gets to his feet. He scowls, looking down at Andrea. That bitch speared him through the ropes! He heads her way, reaching for her hair. Once again he grabs a handful of hair, yanking the champion to her feet…she stuns him with a jaw breaker!! He staggers back. Andrea, standing…charges at Evin. She leaps at him for a Thesz Press…but Evin catches her and tosses Andrea onto his shoulders. He throws her at the apron for a DVD. But Andrea lands on her feet. Evin looks up…Andrea hops off the apron and takes Evin down with a Hurricanrana!! Evin’s head is sent slamming into the barricade!! The fans…especially the ‘IT’S STILL REAL TO ME, DAMNIT!’ guy go wild!!! Andrea struggles to her feet with the fans patting her on the back and shoulder. The ‘IT’S STILL REAL TO ME, DAMNIT!’ guy’s chubby hand nearly grazes the side of Andrea’s chest. Andrea turns around, and pie faces the guy to the ground~
Smith: It’s just not that guy’s night.
Hood: Perhaps he should search for and locate a life.
Smith: That might help.
~Evin, seated up against the barricade and holding his head, receives a stiff kick into the chest. Andrea drives a knee into his chest. He’d be down if it weren’t for the barricade holding him up. Scruff finally yells out, “ONE!” Andrea looks over her shoulder, aware of what’s going on. She yanks Evin to his feet and whips him into the steel steps…he hits with tremendous force!!! He slides to the ground, slowly rolling over, so his back is up against the side of the steps. Andrea runs forward and drives both feet into Evin with a front dropkick!!! The fans go wild!! Evin slinks to his side, clutching his chest in pain. Scruff yells, “TWO!”~
Smith: The Craze Champion is working Evin over on the outside. She took his best shot at the start of the match and is firing back!
Hood: Ah crap…c’mon, Evin. You’re better than this!
Smith: This is by far the toughest one on one match he’s faced since joining OCW.
~Scruff yells “THREE!” Andrea pulls Evin up and throws him into the ring, knowing who quickly those final seven seconds can evaporate. She hops up onto the apron. Evin is lying, prone in the center of the ring. Andrea senses an opportunity. She jumps up and springboards off the top rope with SKY HIGH! Evin rolls out of the way!! Andrea lands on her feet, adjusting in midair. She leaps up and lands on top of Evin with a standing moonsault!! The fans go wild!! She hooks the leg, making the cover…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Evin kicks out! Great adjustment by Andrea.
Hood: Nice to see Evin’s still alive in there.
Smith: He’s subdued but far from out, Hood. I’d be shocked if he didn’t rally.
Hood: He’d better fucking rally. I put twenty bucks on this mother fucker.
Smith: Twenty? That’s it?
Hood: Yea, spent the rest of my cash on Andrea’s grandfather in the OCW deadpool.
Smith: STOP
~Andrea pops back to her feet, unfazed. She’s seen them all…faced a litany of legends. She knows wins at this level don’t come easy. She backs up, ready to pounce. Evin sits up. He gets to one knee. Andrea charges. Evin catches her, pops up, spins around and plants Hernandez into the mat with a spinning powerbomb!!! He holds on for the pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Shoulder up from Hernandez! My goodness, the athleticism of Evin Empire is freaky!
Hood: There we go! He let Andrea show off for gramps…now do what you came here to do, brother. Win that fucking strap!
Smith: Let’s give Andrea some credit!
Hood: She did push that fan down. I’ll give her that.
~Empire rolls backward, getting to one knee. Andrea remains down. Evin pops to his feet and heads over, stomping a right foot into Andrea’s gut. Andrea rolls onto her side, curling up. Evin places his boot into the side of her neck, pushing down. She yells out, kicking her legs. Scruff administers a five count. Evin relents at five. He grabs Andrea’s legs and drags her into the center of the ring. He hooks her feet under his arms and falls back with a slingshot. Andrea flies through the air…she lands on the middle rope. Evin remains on the mat, expecting a staggering Andrea to come his way for a schoolboy. Instead, Andrea flips around, jumps off the middle rope and drives a knee into Evin’s head!! Evin kicks his legs and rolls around, writhing in pain. Andrea remains on all fours, holding her stomach from the earlier kick~
Smith: A great counter by Andrea! She’s so smart…so agile!
Hood: She’s like a fucking fly that just won’t sit still so you can swat it into MUSH.
Smith: Oh please, she’s much better than a fly.
Hood: Is she, Smith? IS SHE?
~Evin sits up, holding his head. He appears more pissed than hurt. Andrea reaches one knee. Evin gets to his feet. He stomps over toward Hernandez. He grabs her by the hair…she pops to her feet, spins around and kicks him in the gut! Evin doubles over. Andrea steps through the ropes…she jumps up, springboards off the top rope, looking for a tornado DDT. Evin catches her and throws her back, hanging her out to dry over the top rope!! Andrea teeters along the top rope for a few seconds. Evin snares her from around the waist, deadlifting her off the top rope into powerbomb position. Andrea delivers a palm strike into his forehead, stunning the challenger. She hops over his head, landing on her feet. She takes off, hitting the ropes. Evin turns around and throws a lariat at the oncoming Craze Champion. Andrea leaps into the air, grabs his arm and takes him down…within seconds she’s transitioned into a Fujiwara Armbar!!! Evin yells out in pain!!! The fans are going wild!! Andrea leans back, wrenching on the shoulder of Empire, trying to tear it apart~
Smith: Fujiwara armbar!! She made Axel Veiga tap out with this move!
Hood: Oh come on! That tap out was highly controversial!
Smith: It ended Axel’s OCW career!
Hood: Whatever.
~Evin is writhing in pain. His palm raises…is he going to tap? Scruff is in position. Andrea continues to pull. The sweat on her forehead glistens under the arena lights. The fans yell, “TAP! TAP!” Evin looks at the ropes…they aren’t TOO far away. He begins to use his weight and strength advantage to drag Andrea closer and closer. Andrea does her best to prevent Evin from improving his position, but it’s too late. He reaches out and snares the bottom rope. The fans release an air of disappointment. Andrea releases the hold right before the five count. Evin rolls under the bottom rope, to the apron, clutching his injured right arm~
Smith: Evin’s right arm could be injured. This is not good news.
Hood: Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s just as good with his left arm as he is his right arm.
Smith: And how would you know that?
Hood: You should have seen the way he was giving orders in that VIP box earlier in the week using that left arm. That left arm of his is something else, man.
Smith: I remain skeptical.
~Evin rises on the apron, still favoring his right shoulder. Andrea is already back on her feet. She heads his way…Evin reaches out, grasping her by the throat with his left hand. Andrea swats it away, easily. She kicks Evin in the gut and leaps over for a sunset flip but, instead, drops Evin on his head outside the ring with a CANADIAN DESTROYER!! The fans go wild!! Evin’s body goes limp. Andrea sits up against the barricade, perhaps reaching the realization of what she just pulled off. Scruff yells “ONE!”~
Smith: Oh my gosh!! Evin Empire could be injured…he could be paralyzed after a move like that!
Hood: Fucking Andrea…trying to CRIPPLE the future of this company. I say we FIRE her right now!
Smith: We’ve already lost one champion tonight, Hood. Let’s not lose another.
Hood: TRANSIENT champion, Smith. We all know Andrea is holding that belt for Evin…that is, if Evin can move after that fucking spot.
~Scruff yells “TWO!” Andrea returns to her feet, looking down at Evin who hasn’t moved. Scruff yells “THREE!” Andrea moves to pull Evin up. He’s heavy…it’s dead weight. She struggles moving the much heavier Empire. Scruff yells “FOUR!” The fans at ringside are urging Andrea on~
Smith: She’s got six seconds to get him back in the ring!
Hood: Or, ya know, she could just take the count out and retain like a true champion.
Smith: You and I both know that’s not how she wants to win this. She’d never live it down. She wants to win or lose in the ring…that’s the type of competitor she is.
Hood: What is it with the female champions in this company? Fucking idiots.
~Scruff yells “FIVE!” Andrea begins to drag the dead weight near the ring. Evin is still out. Scruff yells “SIX!” Andrea manages to get Evin over her shoulders…she’s on her knees. Scruff yells “SEVEN!” Andrea struggles getting up. Her legs are shaking under the weight. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Andrea yells out, powering up. Scruff yells “NINE!” Andrea tosses Evin onto the apron and shoves him in. Scruff is about to yell “TEN!” when Andrea dives into the ring!! She makes a cover onto Evin…Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3..NO!
Smith: Shoulder up!! Evin is alive!
Hood: Paralysis DENIED
Smith: Poor Andrea…she could have probably hit Sky High and ended this…but by trying to beat the count she bypassed any chance at hitting that move.
Hood: You say that like she blew her get out of jail free card. He’s still down…she can still hit it.
Smith: Hey! I like the way you think!
Hood: Fuck off
~Andrea, as if suffering through a direct line to Hood’s commentary, heads for the ropes. Evin is on his back, near the center of the ring. Andrea stands atop the apron…she measures Evin up, leaps into the air, springboards off the top rope and flips over for SKY HIGH!!! Evin gets his knees up!!! Andrea’s back SLAMS into Evin’s knees!!! She arches her back in extreme pain~
Smith: He got the knees up!
Hood: Yes! Here we go! Time for the EMPIRE to rise!
Smith: It just took too long…against a competitor like Evin you have to strike while the iron is hot.
Hood: And given the fact Andrea is a woman you’d think she’d know all about ironing.
~Andrea struggles to her feet, reaching for her back. Evin remains down…he’s moved, a little…but it’s clear he’s still deeply impacted from that Canadian Destroyer. Andrea pulls him to his feet. She whips him into the ropes…Evin leaps onto the middle rope and springboards off with a moonsault, catching Andrea by surprise…he comes down and drops Andrea with EMPIRE STRIKES BACK!!! The crowd leaps to their feet…not out of joy, but out of shock!! Andrea is down!! Evin is face down! The crowd is yelling for Andrea to move~
Smith: Empire Strikes Back!! Evin’s got this!
Hood: C’mon, bro…pin that whore!
Smith: You know the nerves in his spine have got to be in disarray. He’s most likely having trouble regaining full control of his limbs.
Hood: I don’t know, he looked pretty fucking skilled on that springboard moonsault.
~Evin looks up, seeing Andrea. He crawls forward and throws his arm over her chest. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!
NO!
Smith: Andrea with the shoulder up!
Hood: FUCKIN HELL! It took Evin TOO long to get that pin.
Smith: Indeed…the damage he’s suffered played a huge factor into his inability to pin Andrea when he needed to.
~Evin rolls over, frustrated. He clutches his right arm for a moment before sitting up. Andrea remains down, her eyes open, breathing heavily. Evin fights to his feet. He yanks Andrea up by the hair. Andrea throws a kick into his gut. Evin fights back with a forearm strike to the head. Andrea stumbles. Evin kicks her in the gut! He hooks her for a powerbomb..he hoists her up…Andrea punches him in the head. Evin fights through, lifting her into the crucifix position…Andrea struggles, getting free. She manages to stand on Evin’s shoulders. She turns around, drops onto his shoulders and pulls him back with a Reverse Frankensteiner!!! Evin flips over, hitting hard…he winds up on his feet, out of instinct. Andrea pops to his feet only to get run over via a lariat from Evin Empire!!! Andrea turns inside out, hitting the mat hard!! Evin winds up face down…both competitors are on the mat, breathing heavily…the fans are on their feet, stomping, clapping, anxious with anticipation~
Smith: What a series of moves! Both competitors are doing whatever they can to walk out of here…not just Craze Champion but for a spot in the main event at Not Safe For Work!
Hood: Evin turned that bitch inside out!
Smith: Only after getting dropped on his head.
Hood: That’s yesterday’s news, bro!
~Evin rolls onto his back, clutching his right arm…the very arm he used to lariat Andrea. Andrea sits up, wincing in pain. She looks over, seeing Evin. She reaches for his right arm. She’s too quick…in the blink of an eye she’s nearly got an armbar. Evin pops to his feet, realizing what’s going on. He pulls Andrea off the mat and manages to get her on his shoulders…he hoists her back up in the Crucifix position. Andrea wiggles, kicking her feet. Evin’s right arm is struggling. He stumbles forward…he nears the ropes…Andrea gets her legs over Evin’s head and leaps backward, bringing Evin’s head down, across the top rope with a guillotine!!! She lands on her feet, outside the ring. Empire stumbles backward. Andrea hops back onto the apron. She jumps up, springboarding off the top rope, looking for a codebreaker. Instead, Evin catches her, spins around and drops her with a SPINEBUSTER!!! The ring shakes with impact!! Andrea is down. Evin makes the cover~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: She kicked out again!
Hood: Damnit…mother fucking hell! Evin’s throwing EVERYTHING at her and she won’t stay down.
Smith: That’s the Hernandez fighting spirit, Hood! A spirit that’s been nurtured and developed generation after generation!
Hood: Oh save me the family story bullshit.
~Empire rises. He looks down at Andrea with disdain. His right arm continues to be favored. He pulls Andrea up and slugs her in the gut. She doubles over. He looks to hook her for a powerbomb. Andrea grabs his right arm and pulls down on it. Evin reacts violently, trying to pull away. Andrea stands up and throws a big boot into his right shoulder!! Evin spins around, clutching the impacted joint. Andrea hustles ahead, snaring his right arm. Evin spins around with a roaring palm strike into the side of Andrea’s head…she stumbles backward, into the ropes. Evin looks at Andrea saying “You bitch!”~
Smith: Evin’s not happy…Andrea’s trying to rip his right arm out of its socket.
Hood: She’s fucking vicious man…I’d hate to be the guy that dumps her ass.
Smith: Hell hath no fury
Hood: Like a woman born
Smith: That’s…not how it goes.
~Evin grabs Andrea from behind. He lifts her up. She places her feet on the top rope, elbowing Evin in the face. He stumbles back. Andrea, showing tremendous balance, remains on the top rope. Evin heads her way, reaching for her out of instinct. She grabs his right arm and yanks back!! Evin yells in pain, stumbling, holding his right shoulder. Andrea springboards off the top rope with a somersault senton…she connects, taking Evin down and holding onto his leg for the pin!!! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….and STILL OCW CRAZE CHAMPION…ANDREA HERNANDEZ!!!!!
Smith: She did it!! She did it!!
Hood: FUCK MY LIFE
Smith: Andrea retains her title…she defeats Evin Empire and she is GOING TO NOT SAFE FOR WORK!
Hood: OCW is officially dead to me.
Smith: Wow, really?
Hood: Well, at least until the next segment.
Smith: Andrea’s been fighting, scrapping, clawing since September…and finally…FINALLY she gets the opportunity to headline a main event. She will face the OCW Champion at Not Safe For Work!
Hood: THAT WAS EVIN’S SPOT!
Smith: The powers that be may have envisioned Evin in that spot…but it was Andrea who earned it. That’s what makes OCW the best wrestling organization around.
Smith: What a night! And what a performance by both Andrea Hernandez and Evin Empire.
Hood: I've still got goosebumps!
Smith: There is only one piece of business that remains and that is Commissioner Marcus Welsh's ultimatum. And it looks like he meant serious business! All of our champions have made their way into the ring.
~Marcus Welsh stands in the ring with all of OCW's current reigning champions flanking him on either side. ~
Hood: Mike Best, Vincent Langston, Andrea Hernandez, Hayley Robinson ... who is about to have to forfeit her Paradigm Championship and even Team Atari out here. He's gathered them all, expecting a decision to be made.
Smith: Each of them eager I'm sure, to find out which of them will be defending against Sarah Twilight at a future date.
~Marcus take a microphone and looks up the ramp towards the back.~
Marcus Welsh: Alright, Sarah Twilight. Time's up. I'm going to need you to come out here and give me an answer as to your decision. I've given you a week to think about it. So, let's have it.
~The lights cut down dim as "The Only One" by Evanescence begins over the loudspeakers. It doesn't take long for Sarah Twilight to make her way onto the stage. Again greeted with a very mixed reaction from the crowd. Some of them hyped up with the possibilities of what she would choose, others just couldn't stand her and loathed the fact she even had this opportunity. The gorgeous redhead still wearing her black denim outfir from her earlier appearance at Chastity's Church. Despite how that turned out, Sarah's lips formed a very sly smirk. She makes her way down into the ring, surveying the field of champions currently in the ring.~
Smith: She seems quite content for someone who is basically losing the element of surprise factor for her Oh Shit contract.
Hood: Which is completely unfair!
Smith: It is what it is, at least she's still getting the contract after five years.
~The lights fully return to normal and the crowd is in a full uproar of cheers, boos and speculation. Marcus greets her with a round of applause, mic tucked under his armpit. Sarah's coy grin never leaving her face as she glances out at the crowd, and then back to the champions in the ring. Marcus doesn't waste any time getting started.~
Marcus Welsh: Now Sarah, before you give me your decision I did want to handle one small situation here, and give you another opportunity before you commit to this decision.
~Marcus turns and looks at Hayley Robinson, who was no longer employed by OCW after the outcome of her match with Mike Best. He motions her to hand over the Paradigm Championship. A very depressed Robinson sighs and steps forward, looking down at her championship for a long moment before handing it over to Marcus. Marcus turns now to look at Sarah, the Paradigm title in his hands.~
Smith: How emotional that must have been for Robinson.
Hood: You gamble, sometimes you lose.
Marcus Welsh: We are presented with a unique situation in which one of our championships is now vacant, and you hold a contract for an opportunity at any championship you wish. This means, that should you decide ... on the Paradigm Championship, you would become champion right here and right now.
~Many of the crowd boo quite loudly at that idea. Even if she did have a contract, nobody wanted to see Sarah simply get handed a championship belt. But this is exactly what Marcus does, he hands it to Sarah, allowing her to think about it before making her decision.~
Smith: Oh come on! She hasn't even had a match since returning here. And just like that she can just take a championship?
Hood: That's the nature of the game. She holds that contract, it's her's ... if she wants it.
Marcus Welsh: Take a minute, think about it.
~Sarah looks down at the championship. The idea that she could walk out of Massacre right now as Champion was quite an intriguing prospect. However, the arrogant redhead doesn't spend much time thinking it over before handing the chmapionship back to Marcus and asking for a microphone.~
Sarah Twilight: As tempting as that is ... I've already made my decision and I don't think I'll be changing my mind.
~Marcus nods taking possession of the Paradigm Championship once again. ~
Hood: She's going after Mike Best ... has to be. No chance you turn down a free championship like that!
Smith: I kinda want to agree with you here. I mean, she could have just walked out of here with the Paradigm Championship. But she's not, so she definitely has a bigger picture in mind. I guess we're about to find out.
Hood: The only thing we do know is that The Paradigm Championship is definitely not her decision.
Marcus Welsh: Alright, then I'm going to need your decision. Who's it going to be?
~Mike Best eyes Sarah, he doesn't say anything but his body language is almost daring her to choose him. Vincent Langston watches carefully as does Andrea Hernandez. Team Atari aren't quite sure why they're even out here but they listen on anyway. Sarah paces back and forth, looking each champion over. With a final smirk she turns back to Marcu, reaching into her denim jacket and she removes an envelope, slapping it against his check pretty roughly.~
Sarah Twilight: Everything you need to know is right there.
~She walks past Marcus and begins to exit the ring. Marcus stops her.~
Marcus Welsh: Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! Hold on there. Where do you think you're going?
~Sarah stops midway through the ropes and looks back at Marcus curiously~
Sarah Twilight: I'm leaving, what's it look like?
Marcus Welsh: You haven't made your announcement yet so you'll be doing no such thing.
~Now Sarah grins like a cheshire cat, waltzing back toward Marcus.~
Sarah Twilight: There isn't going to be any announcement. You told me last week that I had one week to give my decision to YOU. Not to the sheep, and not to anyone else standing in this ring. The sheep do not DESERVE to know what my decision is. You wanted an answer, you have an answer. That information will stay between you and I until I DECIDE to let one of those fucks over there know my intentions.
~This draws tremendous boos from the crowd. There are also a few complaints from the champions standing in the ring as they feel their time had been wasted. Marcus just laughs, nodding slightly having to admit he was outsmarted on this occasion.~
Smith: What? We're NOT going to find out her decision? What was the point of this then?
Hood: It's brilliant! She used the General Manager's own words against him. He said she had to give him a decision, not everybody else. The element of surprise remains in tact!
Marcus Welsh: So whatever is in this envelope ... that's the decision. You can't change it later, are we clear?
Sarah Twilight: Crystal. Now, I'm done here.
~"The Only One" hits again as Sarah exits the ring uninterrupted this time and makes her way up the ramp to a chorus of boos. In the ring, Marcus Welsh has a peek inside the envelope ... and whatever it is he sees ... it certainly seems to make him happy as his eyes light up approvingly.~
Hood: So right now, only Marcus Welsh and Sarah Twilight know what was written down inside that envelope. If I was a champion in OCW right now ... I would be a little concerned because I think Marcus just saw dollar signs, whatever that was.
Smith: I'm maintaining that she's chosen to challenge the OCW Champion at some point. She barely blinked an eye at being HANDED the Paradigm Championship. She came here with a plan, and a decision that nothing was going to sway her from. How or when she intends to cash in is the question.
~Mike scoffs. Langston seems ready to leave. Hayley is already out of the ring, never to be seen again. Team ATARI begin discussing the Yamauchi scum. Andrea Hernandez, drenched in sweat from her recent match, steps through the ropes, title over her shoulder. Mike watches, considering an attack. Before he can do anything, Langston gets in his way...on purpose? Or just a coincidence. The barrier Langston's giant body provides is enough to convince Mike to get after Andrea another time, down the line~
Smith: Twilight continues to play up the intrigue and I don't blame her. The purpose of that contract is to SHOCK a champion, giving the challenger an advantage.
Hood: I'm just surprised she didn't want the Paradigm Championship.
Smith: It's a great championship...no doubt she has a ton of respect for it. It just seems her goals are in line with what that belt represents.
Hood: So, Savage?
Smith: I don't know...OCW Title, maybe? That's the ultimate.
Hood: Fuck...WHAT'S IN THE ENVELOPE!
Smith: For that...we will have to wait. That's it for us tonight...see you all next Monday!
~We fade out~