OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, July 8th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~Another Monday night is upon us!! With the 4th of July in our rear view mirror, the realization that summer is sorta, kinda halfway over hits. A moment which used to cause temporary melancholy now sprouts a bit of joy. Get those damn kids off our mother fuckin porch. Taking a seat on the couch, we fire up some leftovers we may or may not have confiscated from whatever party we attended over the weekend. A nice, cold beverage sweats, awaiting our warm, thirsty hand. We turn on the TV…it doesn’t go directly to HOTv like usual. Instead it’s on STARZ…must have got drunk and watched a movie the other night. What sort of fuckery is this on our television? On the roof of a building stands a man…but he acts like a boy. He’s being removed from a group that was kind enough to let him in only to realize he does not belong. The man-boy is trying his hardest to reclaim the group’s respect. Once he realizes that won’t happen, he tries to talk people into leaving the group. He pulls the Jerry Maguire “WHO’S COMING WITH ME?” He says, “Who’s staging a walkout?” Nobody takes the bait. So, he grows angry and unleashes “YOU’RE ALL A BUNCH OF TWO FACED SUCKERS OF COCK!!!” Silence fills the air. The members of the group look at one another before bursting into laughter. GUFFAWING. The angry, insecure man-boy is stunned. His insult, which he felt was scathing, turned out to be nothing more than the insane ramblings of the 540th coolest kid in sixth grade. So, the group converges, they grab this guy and, while laughing, throw him over the edge of the roof. Scene cuts. FIN is displayed. We think, “Well, that was weird.” The channel instantly changes to HOTv…the Massacre logo is fading which means we JUST MADE IT. We cut to the OCW Arena where the ravenous fans are going wild!! “OCW! OCW!” The camera cuts to Smith and Hood who appear ready for duty~
Smith: Hello everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host, Smith and alongside me, as always is Hood!
Hood: yo
Smith: We’ve got another action packed show lined up this evening as we are three…yes, THREE weeks from Redacted.
Hood: This PPV period is flying by, Smith.
Smith: Indeed it is! Tonight we will see, for the first time ever, Mike Best and CMF team up as they take on The Ministry of Parkness.
Hood: Seems like a wasted opportunity but, you have to get your feet wet as a team, I suppose.
Smith: Zack Phoenix and The Road Dawg will make their debuts in singles matches, as well.
Hood: I don’t know much about those guys.
Smith: Well, that’s what a debut match is for, Hood! Mark Storm returns to action looking to win his second match in a row!
Hood: Hmm, I don’t SEE any clouds forming, just yet. But it is summer…things can change fast.
Smith: Scott Stevens makes his second appearance inside an OCW ring, taking on the former rising star, Chastity Temple.
Hood: My only question is whether or not Lurrr will get his hands on Stevens before, after or during that match.
Smith: He may…the original ICON is furious over Stevens’ actions since joining this legendary company. Vossler, another man embroiled in controversy, returns to action. It isn’t the match he was hoping for but…it’s a match nevertheless.
Hood: He wants Langston…he wants that Savage Title. He gets…The Ubertaker. Who can blame the guy if he’s a little salty?
Smith: Logan is back in action, taking on OCW legend, Bob Grenier.
Hood: Normally I’d go with the legend in that scenario but Logan…dude’s on fire.
Smith: OCW’s HEART AND SOUL, Alice Knight is in action for the THIRD WEEK IN A ROW as she takes on THE PROCTOLOGIST.
Hood: Three weeks in a row…I take it back, this PPV period has NOT flown by. LONGEST, WORST PPV PERIOD EVER.
Smith: And, in our main event, the tag team champions R.O.S.E. will defend against the team of former Paradigm Champion, Kitty Petrova and the Son of Krayzie, Duce Jones.
Hood: Finally…a REAL MATCH
Smith: It’s a star studded, packed episode of Massacre…so let’s not waste any time! Let’s…
~The crowd isn’t quite sure how to react as the new owner of OCW makes his way out of the entranceway to begin tonight’s episode of Massacre, but the mixed reaction turns very quickly to boos as Mike Zybala steps out onto the stage-- accompanied to the ring by the controversial number one contender, Mack O’Connor.~
Smith: Wait, what in the hell is this? What is Mack O’Connor doing with the owner of OCW?
Hood: What does it look like, Smith? He’s walking to the ring.
Smith: Well I-- obviously-- but to what end? WHY?
~It may be the darkest reception ever received by Zybala, but his eyes are focused on the ring and the business at hand as he makes his way down the ramp with Mack in tow. Mack looks smug at best, not really seeming too bothered by the reaction the crowd has been giving him since his vicious attack on Matt Meyhu several weeks ago.~
Smith: Last week’s Massacre began with a demand from Zybala that the OCW’s Double Champion, Mike Best, vacate and return the OCW Craze Championship-- a request that was denied, or at least deferred one more week. And the show ended with Mack O’Conner brutally assaulting Mike Best and further injuring the champion’s already injured shoulder.
Hood: Thanks for the news, Walter Cronkite. What’s your point?
Smith: Well, Hood, I’m starting to suspect maybe those two events are so unrelated. Could Zybala’s obsession with revenge against the eMpire really drive him to hire a mercenary like Mack O’Connor? Could Mack really be so desperate for another taste of the OCW Championship that he’d sell his soul to Zybala?
Hood: ALL THIS AND MORE, NEXT WEEK ON BULLSHIT CONSPIRACY THEORIES!
~Mike Zybala climbs the ring stairs, holding the ropes open for Mack O’Connor before following him into the ring. Zybala saunters over to Belvedere, commandeering his microphone as the crowd boos even louder, leaving a perplexed look on the face of the owner of OCW.~
Zybala: You should be THANKING ME right now!
~Of course, wrestling crowds LOVE being told when they owe someone thanks-- whether or not it’s true. They respond in kind, booing at the owner of OCW, who looks frustrated and confused.~
Zybala: Look at everything I have done for you! For the OCW fans! I bought this company out of the hands of a man who just didn’t care anymore! I bought this company, before some megacorporation could get their hands on it. Before some greedy wrestling promoter, like Lee Best, could make an offer. I bought this company, for YOU PEOPLE! To free you from the tyrannical reign of Marcus Welsh… of the eMpire!
~The man is making good points, but the OCW audience doesn’t seem particularly keen. Public opinion on the eMpire has been turning around over the last several months-- the guys show up every week, put on a show, and fight all comers. In fact, it had been Zybala’s own abuses of power toward the OCW Champion that had seemingly sparked this revolution in the first place. The fans shower boos down into the ring, and a surprising “DOUBLE CHAMP” chant breaks out in the front row, slowly moving toward the back of the crowd.~
Zybala: HE’S NOT THE FUCKING DOUBLE CHAMP!
~Realizing that he’s yelling into the microphone, Zybala quickly clears his throat and regains his composure as the fans voice their displeasure at him. Sweat is pouring down the forehead of the OCW owner, who just isn’t used to being anything but beloved by the OCW faithful.~
Zybala: What I mean to say is... pursuant to Chapter 12, Section C, paragraph… whatever I said it was two weeks ago, OCW does not permit a champion to simultaneously hold more than one singles championship. It’s all available in the BRAND NEW OCW RULEBOOK!
~Mike Zybala reaches into his jacket pocket, producing a loose leaf notebook with the word “RULES” scrawled across it in black permanent marker. He starts flipping through scribbled up pages, finally finding a section and holding it up to show the whole arena. It’s obviously not legible from this distance, even to the hard camera.~
Zybala: Don’t you people get it? HE DESERVES THIS! This is karma! I AM KARMA! I’m doing this for Hayley Robinson. For Melinda Rhodes. For Jason Kortare! I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing this… for YOU!
~Boos. Male boos. Female boos. Boos from children, and the elderly. A short but powerful “FUCK THE MADCLAN (CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP) chant breaks out, even. Mack O’Connor stifles a laugh, as Zybala wipes the sweat from his forehead, gritting his teeth as he presses on, growing increasingly frustrated.~
Zybala: You don’t understand, people! He was going to ruin it! He was going to ruin US! Ruin OCW! Because of me, you’re not going to see Mike Best politic and con his way into a double main event in North Korea! Because of me, a true OCW ORIGINAL is going to walk out of Redacted with the OCW Championship! Because of me, you don’t have to suffer through ANOTHER Matt Meyhu pay-per-view title match!
~The burn is slow, but the fans slowly start to put the pieces together and realize what Mike Zybala has just implied. Maybe it was his frustration, or his nervousness, but slowly the fans begin to remember the attack on Matt Meyhu just a few weeks ago… and that the man standing next to him in the ring, the man with the title shot, is the one who took him out. The booing is louder now than it has been all night, and Mack almost hides his face in his hands, looking annoyed that Zybala even said that out loud.~
Zybala: ENOUGH! I know what is best for OCW-- I OWN it, for God’s sake! And I’m going to make it a better show to watch… a better company to work for… and you’ll see. You’ll see, when it’s all over. You’ll thank me. You’ll say “GEE, THANKS MR. ZYBALA! YOU SURE TURNED THINGS AROUND!” And we’re gonna start turning them around right now, because I’m here tonight to announce that time is up. Mike Best has had two weeks to make his considerations, but the time is now-- the time for me to OFFICIALLY declare that the OCW Craze Championship is now VA--
UH-UH-UH-UNDEFEATED
~Before Zybala can finish that sentence, the fans in the arena begin to cheer as the OCW owner learns how obnoxious it is to be constantly interrupted by the vocal portion of a song intro. “Undefeated” by KB begins to blast over the sound system, bringing the holder of the Craze and OCW Championships out from behind the curtain, with a microphone in his hand.~
Mike Best: You want a thank you, Zybala? Why don’t you come down here right now and let me show you my gratitude!
~The crowd roars, as the OCW Double Champ smirks on the stage, both of his championships oddly sling over his uninjured shoulder. He’s trying to look like he isn’t in pain, but it’s hard to hide it too well.~
~Mack barrels forward toward the ropes, ready to fight, but Zybala stops him in his tracks, shaking his head and muttering something to him off mic.~
Mike Best: Sorry, Mack-- Daddy says you can’t come outside and play. Why don’t you keep holding his pocket and let the grown-ups talk?
~The roar of the crowd is even louder now, as the smirking champion stares intently at the furious Mack O’Connor-- the challenger hasn’t lost his cool during any of his recent assaults, but not being allowed to indulge in violence whilst being mocked seems to be his tipping point.~
Zybala: You see this? This is who you want representing OCW? A disrespectful bully, who doesn’t belong here in the first place?
~This time, the “DOUBLE CHAMP” chant isn’t slow to build. The crowd answers Zybala in loud, obnoxious fashion as Michael Best begins to slowly saunter a little further down the ramp, microphone still in hand.~
Mike Best: ...I think maybe they, Zybala. I think that they want a lot of things that you don’t want to give them. I think they wanted Matt Meyhu vs. Mike Best at Redacted, and--
~He can’t even finish his sentence, as a “TBA” chant breaks out in the crowd. Mike takes a moment to acknowledge it with a nod, as he’s equally frustrated to learn that Mike Zybala may have allegedly had a hand in taking that match away.~
Mike Best: And I think that they want you to shut the fuck up and let me at THAT piece of shit.
~He gestures into the ring at Mack O’Connor, and the fans now go ballistic. Mack nods his head as well, leaning over the ropes and jawing off to the OCW Champion. Zybala is still trying to keep Mack at bay, because if he wasn’t, there would be all out war in tonight’s opening segment.~
Zybala: I don’t think they know what they want, Mr. Politician. I think you’re putting words in their mouths. And if they want to see Mike Best versus Mack O’Connor, they can watch that live on HOTv, Monday, July 29th, like everybody else-- because I have OFFICIALLY signed that contract, and that match is OFFICIALLY happening at Redacted… for the OCW Championship!
~The crowd cheers for this, and both Mike and Mack seem perfectly fine with it.~
Zybala: Or maybe they could just watch the end of Massacre last week? How’s your shoulder feeling, “double champ?” You shouldn’t be putting so much weight on it-- but I’m gonna help you with that here tonight. And in fact, I’m glad you’re down here. Because I’ve been waiting months and months to say this to your face. I am officially stripping you of--
Mike Best: I get to choose my replacement. I have it in writing. Your rules, remember? The rules need to be followed, and I get to choose.
Zybala: Then choose. No more stalling. Give me a fucking name or I swear to God, I’ll take that title and give it to Mack O’Connor, RIGHT NOW.
~The crowd boos, and the not-so-idle threat clearly gets through to the champion. His face grows more serious, as he realizes that he’s finally hit a point where he can’t defer any longer. After a moment of thinking, he finally opens his mouth.~
Mike Best: Darin Zion. I name Darin Zion.
~The crowd roars, a COMPLETELY unexpected name leaving the mouth of the OCW Double Champion as he shrugs his shoulders, almost not believing it himself. Zybala takes a moment to consider this, tapping his fingers on the microphone.~
Zybala: Alright, fine. At Redacted, Ed Houston will take on Darin Zion for the VACANT OCW Craze Championship. Because as of this moment, Michael, I am officially--
Mike Best: ...or maybe Mark Storm. Boy, it's a tough choice.
~The crowd laughs, cheering as Mike scratches at his chin, feigning the difficult decision. Zybala looks annoyed in the ring, his patience more than worn thin.~
Mike Best: And then there’s Crash Rodriguez… so many newcomers deserving of a shot… you know what, Zybala? I think maybe next week, live on Massacre, we can make this decision once and for all. Darin Zion, Mark Storm, and Crash Rodriguez… triple threat, and the winner faces Ed Houston for the Craze Championship at Redacted!
~The fans didn’t expect this, but they seem in favor-- the cheering crowd is enough to sway Zybala, who is just happy to have this all over with. He rolls his eyes.~
Zybala: Alright Mr. Pandering Hero, you had your moment. I’ll make the match. Now if you’ll kindly walk that title down to the ring, Mr. O’Connor here will relieve you of that Craze Championship, for safekeeping.
~A single eyebrow is raised from the Double Champ, who slowly shakes his head.~
Mike Best: I’m-- I’m sorry, Zybala, but we had a deal. When I name Ed Houston’s contender, I turn over the Craze Championship. Your words, not mine.
~The champion shrugs, doubling his grip on the two belts over his shoulder.~
Zybala: And you just named three. The game is over, Mikey. Thanks for playing.
Mike Best: I mean, did I? Or did I just name three contenders… for a shot at the contendership? We won’t know who is facing Ed until next week, so… I’m afraid that this championship is still mine… for one more week.
~The roar of the crowd is incredible, as Zybala snarls back out at his new nemesis with fury in his eyes. He’s tired of the games. He’s tired of the bullshit. He’s tired of doing his best job and getting shit on by the OCW crowd for it. Finally, he regains his composure and speaks-- flatly. Coldly.~
Zybala: Alright. YOU WIN, you win-- your favorite words, right, Mr. Undefeated? And let me tell you what, just to make sure that everything is above board next week, I’m going to assign Mack here as the special guest timekeeper. He’ll make sure that everything is on the up and up. And another thing-- just to make sure that you have NO EXCUSE not to turn over that championship? We’re going to make you the SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE in that match. And Mike, if you fail to raise the hand of a winner in that match? You’re FIRED! On the spot, stripped of BOTH of your championships, and you will NEVER be seen in OCW again!
~The crowd is mixed in reaction for this, cheering for the prospect of such a big match, but booing at the blatant fuckery of the booking. Zybala climbs out of the ring, getting rid of the microphone, but Mack isn't moving. Mike and O'Connor stare down, ramp to ring, neither one giving an inch to the other as Monday Night Massacre goes to its first commercial break.~
Smith: And we're back...what a huge announcement we just witnessed! Next week...a triple threat with the winner facing Ed Houston at Redacted for the Craze Title!
Hood: I'm thinking Mike doesn't REALLY want to let go of that belt.
Smith: He's got no choice now, Hood. I'm so exited for the individuals involved...Mark Storm, Crash Rodriguez, and Darin Zion!! Huge opportunity for all three!
Hood: Yea, yea...who the fuck is Crash Rodriguez?
Smith: A new recruit the offices are REALLY excited about.
Hood: Guess anybody can just walk in here and get title shots.
Smith: Talent is talent, Hood. Mike Best is ALSO the special ref for that match while Mack is the timekeeper.
Hood: Can Mack even read a watch?
Smith: I'm sure we'll provide digital time if that's what Mack requires. Either way that match should be insane...what a main event for next week!
Hood: Well, I will say it beats the shit out of what we've seen lately.
Smith: Haha, indeed! Well, it's time to get to the in-ring action this evening!! Let's head down to ringside for our opening match as The Road Dawg makes his OCW debut!
Singles Match
The Road Dawg (0-0) vs. John E Depth (2-5)
~Depth stands in the ring, gyrating his hips along with the crowd chanting “DEE-PER! DEE-PER! DEE-PER!” He rotates his hips, slowly…the crowd responds by going ‘ooooohhhhhh’ before Depth gives one, final, dramatic pelvic thrust to which the crowd responds ‘yayyy!!!’ Belvedere shakes his head, clears his throat and tries to bring some PROFESSIONALISM back to this setting~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, from Hollywood, California…John E Depth!!!
~Depth removes a lollipop from his mouth and takes a bow. The crowd chants “JOHN-E!”~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“American Badass” by Kid Rock hits! Pyro goes off as the sounds of a MOTORCYCLE shake the air within the OCW Arena. The Road Dawg comes firing out from behind the curtain, shooting down the ramp atop his bike. He makes an impressive stop at ringside, turning the bike off. He walks to the ring, throwing one fist in the air…he rolls in, under the bottom rope and pops to his feet~
Belvedere: From Parts Unknown…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 220lbs…The Road Dawg!!!
Smith: The Road Dawg making his debut here tonight!
Hood: This has a very late 90s, early 00’s vibe to it, Smith.
Smith: I concur
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: We’ve had our fair share of bikers in OCW.
Hood: Remember that guy…American Badass?
Smith: I do. He did not last long.
Hood: Here’s hoping this Road Dawg guy has a better career. Wouldn’t take much, to be honest.
~Depth tosses his lollipop over his shoulder. It lands in the crowd…hopefully missing every person in attendance. He charges at The Road Dawg, looking more aggressive than usual. He throws a few right hands…The Road Dawg blocks each one. TRD responds with a few vicious right hands of his own, staggering Depth into his corner. Once in the corner, TRD delivers some vicious body shouts which echo throughout the arena. Depth gasps for air~
Smith: Well, The Road Dawg can throw punches. We know that much, so far.
Hood: Thank goodness for that. It’s hard to be a competitive wrestler if you can’t punch.
Smith: There’s always the open handed palm strike.
Hood: You mean a slap? Not if you’re a REAL MAN, Smith!
~TRD hoists Depth up and drills him into the corner with a Spinebuster. He retains control of Depth’s body and repeats this process two more times, crushing Depth into the corner and rendering the B (maybe C?) level porn director motionless. TRD delivers a sharp jab into Depth’s gut, doubling him over. He hoists him up for a powerbomb…rotating to reverse their positioning, with TRD’s back facing the corner~
Smith: A brutal assault so far…and now The Road Dawg is heading to the top?
Hood: Looks like a top rope powerbomb to me, Smith.
Smith: Ah, yes…it says right here his finisher is a top rope powerbomb called Lights Out!
~TRD reaches the top…he throws Depth through the air with a powerbomb! Depth lands HARD on the mat, motionless. TRD calmly steps down and places one foot on Depth’s chest. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…THE ROAD DAWG!!!!!
Smith: Dominating win for The Road Dawg.
Hood: So far, so good…but this shit is going to get a lot tougher.
Smith: Indeed.
~As we head backstage we see blonde bombshell, Who’re, who is twirling her long locks with her finger when Scott Stevens wearing black suit and white mask appears behind her~
Who’re: AHHHHHHHH!!!!!
~Who’re screams when she turns around seeing the masked Texan~
Who’re: Don’t do that!
~She yells.~
Who’re: I think I just peed a little.
~She says as Stevens slowly raises his mask and looks at her with a disgusted face~
Scott Stevens: I don’t have all night sweetie and I’m sure you and Chastity don’t either since you got to catch chlamydia after the show.
~Stevens says and Who’re gets mad~
Who’re: What I got from Mike Best is none of your business!!!
~Who’re states and Stevens says nothing as she regains her composure for the interview~
Who’re: So, like last week Hall of Famer, Lurrr, had some threatening words and stuff towards you, ok. And, like what do you have to say in response and stuff?
~Who’re finishes her butchered question and Stevens grabs the microphone from her~
Scott Stevens: Lurrr, I do think I can just waltz on in OCW and put your hands on you because I did and did it with ease!
~Stevens says with a smile~
Scott Stevens: When I came here and picked out the baddest dog in OCW. The ICON. The Greatest Wrestler in OCW History. I was highly disappointed when I destroyed you with ease and was able to take this without a fight.
~Stevens says as he reaches inside of his jacket and produces a lock of Lurrr’s hair~
Scott Stevens: You should take a hard look in the mirror Lurrr and you should care about who the fuck I am.
~Stevens says sternly as he points to himself~
Scott Stevens: I’m the guy who in one night made an impact by embarrassing and decimating a legend. I used you to get my name out there and it worked. Hell, after what I did to you, you should be thanking me because you were a headliner once more in the news after I laid waste to you.
~Stevens says with a grin~
Scott Stevens: You saying your going to whip my ass doesn’t scare me Lurrr because I’ve already taken you behind the woodshed and won. Your bark is bigger than your bite and if you want to come after me it’s your funeral because I have no problem putting Old Yeller down because I’m a hunter Lurrr and ending careers is what I do.
~Stevens says bluntly before tossing the microphone back to Who’re and leaving while whistling, “A hunting we will go.”~
Smith: The war between Stevens and Lurrr continues.
Hood: Both men are talking a big game...but only one of them has managed to get their hands on the other.
Smith: Indeed. Stevens snuck up behind Lurrr at NSFW and choked him out.
Hood: You know that's stuck in the ICON's head, Smith.
Smith: If so, that's exactly what Stevens wants. Where this will all lead? I'm not sure. But I've got a feeling we may see these two collide at Redacted.
Hood: What a match that would be!
Smith: Indeed. And, speaking of matches...we go from a match between legends to the debut of a total wrestling novice. Zack Phoenix makes his in-ring debut and it's next!
Singles Match
Zack Phoenix (0-0) vs. Shootah (0-3)
~Zack Phoenix is standing in the ring looking a little unsure. The fans look on, disappointed. NO ENTRANCE. Belvedere looks at young Phoenix with a hint…JUST A HINT of annoyance…perhaps he ordered a hot dog and Zack forgot the mustard. WHO KNOWS. Anyway, Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall. Currently in the ring…Zack Phoenix!!
Smith: No entrance for young Zack Phoenix.
Hood: Well, we all know what this means.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Bad Touch” by The Bloodhound Gang begins to play. The fans dance around…it’s a catchy song. Shootah appears from behind the curtain wearing AMERICA GEAR…he’s still in 4th of July mode. He places a few firecrackers down and starts to light them~
Smith: Not sure this is up to code.
Hood: Hey, we’re still within FOURTH OF JULY week…let it slide.
Smith: I guess…are those chasers?
Hood: I think so.
~Shootah lights all three of them and stands back. They TAKE OFF in his direction. He screams and sprints down the apron, running as fast as he can. The chasers are on his heels…he dives forward, into the ring, under the bottom rope. The chasers disappear under the ring~
Belvedere: From Hollywood, California…Shootah!
~Belvedere exits. He walks near the front of the ring…as he does a loud WHOOSH is heard. He jerks his head to see the ring apron ablaze. THE KNIFE MAN and other OCW employees rush down. THE KNIFE MAN waves his giant blade at the fire, trying to put it out. A fire extinguisher is put to good use, finally eliminating the flames. The bell rings~
Smith: Are we ready?
Hood: Yep, fire is out…we’re ready to go!
Smith: And that, Hood, is why we don’t light fireworks inside a building.
Hood: Shootah ruins everything!
~Shootah turns and faces Phoenix. The bell is Pavlovian in that it inspires FEAR within the world’s worst jobber. He looks at Phoenix and holds his hands up, pleading. Zack seems nonplussed~
Smith: The bell tolls for you, Shootah. It’s time to work!
Hood: Shootah and the Hot Dog Guy…WEAK ASS BOOKING
Smith: For once, I concur
~Shootah notices the uncertainty in Phoenix’s face. He heads toward young Zack. He reaches out, poking Zack in the chest. Zack looks at Shootah like ‘the fuck are you doing?’ Shootah’s confidence grows~
Smith: Shootah isn’t used to this…he’s used to immediate violence
Hood: Yea, he got the entrance…he’s the bigger star. ACT LIKE YOU’VE BEEN THERE BEFORE, SHOOTAH!
Smith: Well, to be fair, the entirety of his experience has been immediate failure, so…
~Shootah finally shoves Phoenix. It isn’t super aggressive…but it is annoying. The crowd goes ‘whoa!’…Shootah’s first legit act of aggression. Shootah smiles, looking increasingly confident. Zack is like “why did you push me, bro?” Shootah reaches back and slaps Zack across the face~
Smith: Shootah establishing dominance?
Hood: I honestly don’t know. Is Zack going to stand there and take this shit?
Smith: Does Zack know how to wrestle? I don’t have a bio on him.
Hood: Nobody does.
~Zack, like any man with a dick and balls, is pissed about the slap. He turns around and unleashes a right hand across Shootah’s face!!! Shootah spins around, dazed. Zack grabs Shootah from behind and rolls him up!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ZACK PHOENIX!!!!!
Smith: And Zack Phoenix defies the entrance trope!
Hood: A true trendsetter!
Smith: He manages to win his debut match in OCW!
Hood: Yea…guy might want to stick to selling hot dogs, though. That performance was not inspiring.
Smith: With some more practice…some more training, and, ya know, maybe a bio…who knows, we might have something here.
Hood: I guess
Smith: Zack Phoenix with the biggest moment in his wrestling career to date! He wins in his debut…it will be exciting to see where this youngster goes from here!
~The door to Vossler's locker room appears on screen as it swings open~
VOSSLER: "Why are you st--"
WHO'RE: "Vossler! A moment?"
~Vos groans with the most spoiled tone he can force~
VOSSLER: "I am not in the fucking mood for thiiiissssss..."
WHO'RE: "Great, thank you! And we've got a crew here too. So, you'll be facing The mighty UberTaker later tonight, what are your thoughts?"
~Vossler snags the microphone out of Who're's'd've's hand and gestures for the crew to follow him~
VOSSLER: "Langston, Zybala, Welsh, whoever fucking else owns this bitch. I know you can hear me, I know the fans can hear me, and I sure as fuck don't expect whatever else is happening out there right now to be more important than this. Langston, you lowlife piece of shit. If you're going to try and choke me, make it more exciting than the choking I do to your mom ever night. I still have a voice and I sure as hell don't mind it being heard right now."
~He pauses for a moment~
VOSSLER: "Zybala and Welsh, I'd motherfuck both of you but Welsh has been nice to me so Zybala, you motherfucker and Welsh, you prick. I'm tired of the people claiming to be in charge being unable to handle a kiddy-sandbox proposal. You have such a problem with me taking on Langston for the title? Why, because of Korea? Because of Logan? Boofuckinghoo, but shit's going to start changing drastically around here if I don't start getting my wish. It's very simple. You've got 3 options and only 2 of which are in your favor. No response means we'll go with my option. Option number 1, Zybala stops trying to perform auto-fellatio on himself every night so the blood can get back to the nutkin in his skull and he books the match knowing full well what a fantastic business decision it would be."
~The crowd cheers~
VOSSLER: "Option number 2, and this is by far the more likely one knowing you skimpy fucks. You book me in a 2-on-1 handicap match. Or better yet, a gauntlet. Or even better, a two-out-of-three falls match against an opponent that I should actually take seriously. Maybe you can make it a tag team match or something. I shouldn't have to explain why, you know how contendership works. And I plan on abusing that bitch like a hooker on shore-leave. Or better yet, here's my suggestion. I'll give you 3 names for the fuck of it. You ready?"
~The crowd screams "Yes!"~
VOSSLER: "Sarah Twilight."
~The crowd pops a little louder~
VOSSLER: "Andrea Hernandez."
~The crowd pops even louder~
VOSSLER: "Or give me the guy who was champion when I was still around. Give me someone like Matt fucking Meyhu."
~The crowd goes nuts for the suggestions~
VOSSLER: "GIVE ME ANY-FUCKING-ONE, ZYBALA! I'LL BE HEARING FROM YOU!"
~A loud pop suggests the microphone is broken after being thrown on the floor or on some surface. The crowd has been sent into a frenzy because of the dream matchups~
Smith: Vossler continues to express his displeasure with the booking.
Hood: As he should...it's some WEAK ASS BOOKING
Smith: Yea but he can't just waltz in and get Langston. Langston is a main eventer.
Hood: Vossler would be in Langston's spot had Langston not SAVAGELY removed him from his Death March team back in November, Smith.
Smith: A bit of revisionist history, there.
Hood: You know what I mean.
Smith: Vossler has made a huge impact since his return, I'm not denying that. All I'm saying is there is a long line...at the head of that line is Logan. Win a few more matches, show some patience and maybe, one day...
Hood: Fuck that shit...keep kicking the door, Vos! It'll break down eventually.
Smith: Terrible advice. Speaking of individuals looking to make a violent impact...Scott Stevens, the man who has been tormenting Lurrr, along with several other members of the roster since his arrival, is set for action, next!
Singles Match
Chastity Temple (5-4) vs. Scott Stevens (1-0)
~Chastity Temple stands in the ring, holding her Bible. She’s thrusting it into the air, attempting to charge the atmosphere with the GOOD WORD. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Chastity Temple!
~The fans give a mixed reaction, leaning toward negative. People these days just don’t want to be lectured on religion…especially by someone as aesthetically hypocritical as Chastity~
Smith: Chastity’s been free falling ever since NSFW.
Hood: Yea, CM!F broke her…
Smith: Easy
Hood: Spirit, man!
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area as a guitar begins.~
♫ “God Was Never On Your Side” by Motorhead♫
~The video screen lights up and static appears before silhouettes fill the screen as the arena is polluted in jeers. The crowd knows who is about to walk out and they are letting him know it by chanting his favorite chant as the silhouettes come together to form a white mask as red letters slowly appear and form a message and that message reads in bold, capitalized letters… SCOTT STEVENS.~
Belvedere: Now coming to the ring, from The Great State of Texas……………
~The wait is finally over as a spotlight shines towards the top of the entrance ramp and Scott Stevens appears from behind the curtain wearing black suit and the ominous white mask. As Stevens makes his way down the ramp he is focused on what is in front of him and ignores the vocal bashers.~
Belvedere: Weighing in at 256 pounds…he is….SCOTT! STEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEENS!
~Stevens slowly makes his way around the ring until he reaches the nearest set of ring steps and proceeds to enter the ring. Once inside, Stevens goes to the nearest corner and ascends the ropes; looking out amongst the crowd he slowly takes off his mask and places takes a long look at it before dropping to the canvas as a loud chant erupts from the crowd.
“FUCK YOU, STEVENS!” Clap x5
~The Texan shows no emotion as places the mask and his suit jacket under the bottom rope as he stretches out on the ropes waiting for the bell to ring.~
Smith: Scott Stevens back in action.
Hood: Dude is poking the bear, Smith. He thinks because he snuck up and choked Lurrr out that the original ICON is some sort of patsy.
Smith: Yep, those two have been having words ever since NSFW.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Smith: Scott Stevens is a wrestling legend outside of OCW. Lurrr is a legend inside OCW. Those two appear set on a path which leads toward a showdown.
Hood: They’re both Texans!
Smith: Yes, they share that as well.
~Chastity runs to one side of the ring, throwing the Bible in the air!! She runs to another side, doing the same. She’s BiBLING UP, much like back at NSFW. Stevens watches, aware of the situation. She charges past Stevens, toward the side nearest him. Stevens reaches out and yanks the Bible from Chastity, tossing it into the nearest corner. It slams into the middle buckle before landing atop the mat. The crowd boos….they were kinda enjoying Temple’s act. Temple turns around, eyes wide…she looks at Stevens as though he’s the devil~
Smith: Stevens has done his homework. He knows Chastity is far weaker when she’s NOT holding a Bible.
Hood: That or he just wasn’t enjoying the performance.
Smith: Impossible.
~Temple throws a palm strike at Stevens. He grabs her right arm before the palm makes impact. The fans are like ‘OH SHIT’. Stevens spins her around, grabs her arms, locking Temple in a Straight Jacket. He hoists her up and drops her on her head with a Straight Jacket Suplex! Temple folds up, her knees nearly reaching her ears…her thonged ass exposed to the world~
Smith: Ouch!
Hood: Such a nice ass going to waste…SHAME
Smith: That’s rude, Hood. She’s a chaste woman of purity and morality.
Hood: Not from what I’m seeing.
~Stevens, back on his feet, kicks Chastity over…she winds up face down. He grabs a handful of hair. Chastity reaches out, toward the Bible…it’s so very far away. Stevens throws a short, stiff kick into Temple’s face, ending her reach. He gets her to her feet and instantly drops her right back down to the mat with a Russian Leg Sweep. Stevens, back on his feet, experiences an extreme amount of BOOING from the fans~
Smith: These fans may have been slightly perturbed over Chastity’s Bible pushing….but they definitely don’t like Stevens.
Hood: And why not? The dude kicks ass! This is wrestling, not Joel Osteen’s pay for pray scheme!
Smith: Please, we don’t need to make fun of ministers on air.
Hood: Is he, though? A minister?
Smith: I don’t really want to get into this.
~Stevens yanks Temple to her feet, violently. She’s about to collapse to the mat when he snares her head and drops her with Toxic Sting!!!! Temple hits hard, flipping over onto her back. Stevens makes a nonchalant cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…SCOTT STEVENS!!!!!
Smith: Stevens with another dominant victory.
Hood: And Chastity with another bad loss.
Smith: Two careers headed in completely opposite directions.
Hood: Yep.
~Stevens yanks his hand away from Scruff, refusing to have it raised by the OCW referee. He locates Chastity’s Bible. He drops to one knee, running his hand over the leather covering before snatching it up and taking it as his ‘keepsake’. He steps through the ropes, exiting the ring~
Smith: That’s not yours!
Hood: Well I’ll be…Chastity converted Stevens!
Smith: She did not! He STOLE her Bible!
Hood: She’ll be fine…you can find a Bible pretty much anywhere.
Smith: Scott Stevens continues to beat people up and steal from them. This man is a menace and he needs to be death with!
~We cut backstage to find OCW Owner, Mike Zybala, walking with purpose towards his office, he comes to a stop as he approaches his office door though. The name plate which normally reads “OCW Owner - Mike Zybala” has been crossed out with pink glittery spray paint. In its place, also written in spray paint, it now reads “OCW Goddess - Lilith”.~
Hood: It's about time she took her rightful place at the top of this company.
Smith: What are you talking about? This woman is clearly nuts.
Hood: Nuts, but hot. Very hot. Don't forget the hot.
~Mike Zybala slowly opens his office door not really sure what to expect within his office. As soon as he has fully opened the door he finds OCW Tag Team Champion, Lilith, sitting behind his desk, wearing an extremely sexy business suit with mini skirt and black PVC heeled shoes, with her feet up on his desk looking quite serious. Lilith is also wearing a pair of black thick rimmed glasses, despite the fact that she does not need to wear glasses.~
Lilith: Ah, Mikey Zebra… please take a seat, we have a lot of stuff to go over today.
~Lilith points across at the chair opposite her, which was obviously for employees not the actual boss of the company.~
Zybala: Lilith, what the hell are you doing in my office? And what the hell did you do to my door? You can't just barge in here when I'm not around.
~Lilith looks over the top her glasses at Zybala as she picks up a bunch of paperwork just in front of her, banging it on the desk a bit~
Lilith: Uh huh… look, I know you THINK this is YOUR company, but it's not, it's MY company. NOW SIT THE HELL DOWN BEFORE I MAKE YOU SIT DOWN!!!
~Zybala hesitates a minute and then finally decides to take a seat, mostly out of fear of what Lilith would do if he didn't do as she said.~
Lilith: Now…
~Lilith pulls a pink glitter ink pen out of her bra as she again looks down at the paperwork in front of her.~
Lilith: I'm going to read through a few things here… and you just sit there and let me know if you've actually done the thing I mention, got it?! GOOD!
~Lilith looks down at her paperwork.~
Lilith: Alright, first thing… have you dealt with Marcus Welsh yet?
Zybala: What thing with Marcus? You've complained about him for weeks now but haven't made any sense about what your actual grievance is. If you could just...
~Lilith rolls her eyes as she brings her feet down off of the table and sits forward in her chair a little bit~
Lilith: Look, just stop with the fucking excuses. Just say “no, Lilith, I haven't dealt with that because I'm a useless piece of SHIT!” unbelievable! What about the fans?! Have you at least sorted them out?! Are they now going to cheer me and show me the respect I DESERVE?!!
~Zybala is clearly struggling to keep his cool dealing with what many might call irrational demands~
Zybala: Look, lady. The fans boo and cheer who they want. If they like you, they cheer. If they don't, they boo. Simple as that. It doesn't matter if you're a fucking champ. Let's put it in a simple way that you can understand. If YOU like someone, you would want to share your cookies with them, right? If you don't like them, you don't share the cookies. The fans booing you is like them not wanting to share their cookies with you. Get it??
~Lilith glares right at Zybala as she quickly stands up and slams her fist into the table making everything on top of it shake and a few things fall over.~
Lilith: NO!!! That's where you're going wrong! Why, Zebra… WHY do I always need to be the one around here to sort EVERYTHING out?! Those fans boo me… they don't share their cookies with ME… they get THE HELL out of my arena! MY ARENA!!! Get security to remove each and every one of them til no one is left or they learn who to boo and who to cheer CORRECTLY!
~Lilith steps around the table and gets right into Zybalas face, screaming at him.~
Lilith: MAJOR FREAKING HINT!!! Boo the cowardly little BITCH who jumped me from behind last week and put me in the hospital… and cheer the CHAMPION who despite going through all of that STILL came back and put on an AMAZING main event for those undeserving ASSHOLES!!!
~Lilith grabs Zybala by the collar of his shirt, picking him up out of his chair and oddly enough smiling sweetly at him~
Lilith: Imma tells you right meow, little Zebra Bear, you sort out allllllllllll of this stuffs making me VERY BERRY unhappiful orrrrrrrrr…
~Lilith shrugs, whilst the expression on her face turns to one of pure disgust.~
Lilith: The blood will be on YOUR hands. Next time I come in here I want a whole list of things from you of everything you've PERSONALLY done to make me as happy as can be.
~Lilith pats Zybala on his head, like she'd pat a dog on his head for being a good boy~
Lilith: I'll see you next week. Oh and Zybala… if you DON'T do what I want… which I'm SURE won't be the case! I will take this to stage two… and you REALLY don't want to take this to stage two! Believe me!
~With that the crazed brunette pushes Zybala back a bit, still smiling at him, as she happily walks out of his office slamming the door behind her. Zybala is standing there seething in anger. He grabs the chair he was just sitting on and starts screaming in rage as he swings the chair at the wall, putting a large hole in it. He takes deep breaths as he stares at the hole. He mutters to himself~
Zybala: Next time she lays a hand on me, I'LL put her in the hospital.
~We cut back to Hood and Smith~
Smith: Not sure that's the best way to go about getting your revenge.
Hood: Lilith is a genius at making people hate her.
Smith: We all have our talents, I suppose. But, yes, she does have a right to be angry over what Kitty did to her last week.
Hood: I'm just going to say it...Kitty is a bitch.
Smith: No comment. If Lilith can hold tight she'll have a chance to pay Kitty back in tonight's main event. Meanwhile, up next we've got Mark Storm back in action taking on Kevin Pitman! To ringside we go!
Singles Match
Mark Storm (4-7) vs. Kevin Pitman (0-1)
~Kevin Pitman stands in the ring…SANS ENTRANCE this week. The crowd already seems to have lost whatever interest they may have initially had in this man. Belvedere, standing inside the ring, clears his throat to a moderate ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Kevin Pitman!
Smith: Kevin Pitman had a rough debut last week.
Hood: No shit.
Smith: Meanwhile, Mark Storm returned to the ring a few weeks ago with an impressive victory!
Hood: This match seems like it’s leaning heavily toward inclement weather!
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~Short Change Hero by The Heavy begins to play through the speakers and the lights in the arena simultaneously dim down. Smoke begins to rise from the top of the stage and appearing on the screen above are the following words~
~A massive pop ensues as emerging from the back is the self-proclaimed "Prince of CHAOS", Mark Storm; who keeps himself composed as he stands at the top of the entrance ramp. He can't help but allow his sadistic signature smirk to appear upon his lips as he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide, soaking in the energy that the audience are giving him as they applaud and cheer~
Belvedere: From New York, Brooklyn.. weighing in a two hundred and twenty pounds - Your Hero, and Mine.. MARRKKKK STORMMMMMM
~He begins his walk down the entrance ramp, with a leather coat completing his attire as he comes down the entrance ramp~
This ain't no place for no better man.
This ain't no place for no hero
To call "home."
~At this point, Storm is by the edge of the ring; allowing a smile to embed on his face before he jumps onto the apron and holds onto the ropes, using them to help himself up onto the turnbuckle. He's grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the rest of the cheers coming from the audience, shaking his head sideways as he lowers it, before jumping into the ring. Taking off his leather coat, he hands it to the ring announcer before walking over to his designated corner and hoisting himself up onto the second ropes, a smirk upon his lips as he holds his arms up; his theme song slowly diminishing~
Smith: Mark Storm back in action!
Hood: The most disappointing wrestler in OCW over the past five years. But…he’s got a chance to change that narrative!
Smith: Indeed…Mark Storm could have a banner year in 2019, finally reaching his full potential. I know Welsh, Zybala, and Langston are all eager to see this man earn some gold!
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: And here we go!
Hood: Storm can’t lose to Pitman…I mean, I guess he could, technically…but holy shit would that kill his momentum.
Smith: Agreed…meanwhile, another loss for Pitman would likely signal the end of his OCW career.
Hood: Excuse me if I don’t shed a tear.
~Pitman charges at Storm with a knee lift. Storm dodges the potentially damaging blow. He hooks the passing Pitman around the waist, displaying tremendous quickness. He lifts Pitman up…Pitman throws a few elbows, breaking free. Pitman takes off, hitting the ropes…he bounces off and leaps into the air at Storm with a crossbody. Storm ducks!! Pitman hits the mat, wincing in pain, reaching for his abdomen. Storm pops back to his feet. Pitman struggles to his~
Smith: Pitman came in here the aggressor…unfortunately he’s been unable to hit anything.
Hood: Dude needs that FOCUSED aggression. This running around like a maniac won’t work.
Smith: Nope, especially when you’re in the ring with a veteran like Mark Storm.
~Pitman staggers toward Storm. Storm kicks him in the gut. Storm hits the ropes. Pitman, holding his abdomen, turns around and gets dropped with SlingBlade!!! Storm is already back on his feet. Pitman struggles, mightily back to his. Storm delivers a HUGE bicycle knee to Pitman’s face! Pitman drops to one knee…Storm hits the ropes, flies through the air and hits ANOTHER bicycle knee!!! Pitman collapses to his side, staying down~
Smith: A few vicious knee shots from Mark Storm!
Hood: I’d be surprised if Pitman has any teeth remaining after those.
Smith: Indeed…his aggression has subsided.
Hood: Yea, receiving a massive concussion will do that.
~Storm yanks Pitman off the mat and hoists him onto his shoulders in the Reverse Fireman’s Carry position. He tosses Pitman into the air and brings him down with an inverted Go To Sleep (Incursio!)!!!! Pitman hits the mat, hard. He’s motionless, unconscious. Storm makes the cover…Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…MARK STORM!!!!!
Smith: Another impressive win for Mark Storm!
Hood: Dude’s pieced together two in a row!
Smith: Indeed…he’s looking quite impressive as we continue on the road toward Redacted.
Hood: Yea, Mike’s got that Craze Title situation hanging over his head…Mark Storm could be a WORTHY contender…right?
Smith: I’d guess that’s up for Mike to decide. Regardless, great win for Mark Storm as he continues marching toward a prosperous 2019 here in OCW!
~We cut backstage to see one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Lilith walking backstage on her phone. She is visibly amused by something and starts laughing, quite loudly. The raven haired beauty pauses at a cross section of the hallway and looks up from her phone to see Kitty Petrova standing about ten feet from her. Petrova doesn’t look happy at all. Lilith continues to smile and sarcastically waves at Petrova, prompting Kitty to begin approaching her, clearly looking for a fight.~
Smith: Oh this can’t be good!
Hood: I say let them fight. She jumped Lilith from behind last week.
~Kitty quickly approaches Lilith who doesn’t flee from the situation and instead eggs Kitty on further.~
Lilith: You want to go claws out, bitch? Because I CAN GO CLAWS OUT!
~Kitty reaches Lilith, raising her hands and making a fist when CRACK!!!! Kitty Petrova is blasted in the side of the skull with an OCW Tag Team Championship belt FULL FORCE as Sarah Twilight collides into her out of nowhere, sending Petrova into the wall. Malicious intent written all over the redhead’s face.~
Hood: Petrova walked right into that one! You had to know Twilight was going to do something about this.
Smith: Kitty Petrova is in a world of trouble here with the OCW Tag Team Champions standing over her. I don’t like the looks of this.
~Sarah discards her championship belt and kneels down, mounting herself over Kitty. She grabs a handful of Petrova’s hair to hold her head in place and starts blasting her with right hands to the face repeatedly. Meanwhile, Lilith grabs a steel chair, setting it up and sitting down on it crossing her legs. Lilith has a huge smile on her face as she watches like she was enjoying her favorite Disney movie. ~
Lilith: Stupid little Kitty Cat isn't so big and brave and Grrrrrr when she's NOT attacking people from behind, huh? I told you Sarah was going to kick your stupid ass!
~Lilith laughs and reaches into her bra pulling out a bottle of nail varnish and a nail file. She begins to do her nails as she watches on with great delight. Twilight never says a word, she just continues to beat the shit out of Petrova with no regard for consequence.~
Hood: This is great! Lilith is giving herself a manicure while Kitty Petrova is being dismantled a few feet away from her.
Smith: I can’t argue that Petrova doesn’t deserve the retaliation but that’s adding insult to injury.
~Sarah continues to rain punches down onto Petrova’s face. Kitty tries to cover up but is unsuccessful as Sarah jerks her head side to side landing fist after fist upon her. Eventually Sarah let’s go, throwing Kitty’s head back against the wall and standing up. But by the look on her face, this was far from over. Sarah leans her hands against the wall and steadies herself, sending a HARD knee into Petrova’s face … SMASHING it between the redhead’s knee and the concrete wall behind. There is a VERY sickening cracking sound that comes from Kitty’s skull.~
Smith: OH MY GOD! She’s going to kill her! We need help back there!
Hood: Petrova did this to herself. She jumped Lilith from behind and now there’s consequences!
~Again and AGAIN, Sarah sends vicious knees into Petrova’s face, keeping her pinned against the concrete wall. It doesn’t take long before the cameraman drops the camera and can be heard in the background getting physically ill due to the brutality and sickening skull cracks that were occurring. Lilith finishes doing up her nails and happily walks over, taking the camera herself to film everything that was going on. Behind the camera you can hear Lilith mocking the camera man as she zooms into Kitty's now completely battered and bleeding face. ~
Lilith: God sake I guess I gotta do everything around here, huh? Fine. Hey Kitty, you're live on camera! You wanna say anything to your fans?!
~Lilith zooms in a bit too far, focusing on her bruised and swelling eye, Kitty obviously doesn't respond as she's already unconscious.~
Lilith: How rude! Just completely ignoring your… one fan like that! Sarah… beat some more sense into her.
~Sarah was oblivious to anything going on around her, or even the fact that Kitty had lost consciousness as the rage she was letting off had completely consumed her. Sarah comes back off the wall and sends a vicious kick into Kitty’s face which snaps her head back into the wall again. Kick after kick now as Kitty’s head cracks the wall and bounces forward into another kick, almost like Sarah was dribbling a basketball with her foot. ~
Smith: Is nobody going to DO ANYTHING ABOUT THIS?!
Hood: I’d like to see the one who’s going to stop her right now?!
Smith: Kitty Petrova needs medical attention immediately!
~Both of Petrova’s eyes are swollen shut, her nose is broken, had to be missing some teeth under the crimson mask that she wore over her face and it wasn’t clearly evident but her skull must have been cracked in more than a few places. Twilight was no closer to being finished now than when she first began delivering the beating. Lilith moves in front of the camera whilst still filming, making sure to show Kitty Petrova and her wife in the background as she smiles brightly at the camera. ~
Lilith: Hi Zybala! Hi! Yes I know you're watching this… far too cowardly to come out here and stop us… I get it though, I really do. If I was in your little booties I wouldn't want to stop us either. BUT… just like I said to you earlier tonight… the blood is on YOUR hands. Everything that just happened to Kitty… you may as well have done yourself! Let this be a lesson to you though, sweetie pie… you continue to FUCK with me… I will continue to do…
~Lilith gestures to Kittys broken body. ~
Lilith: This. All of this. It's about time you started showing me and my lovely wife the respect we DESERVE!!! You think this is your company?! It's not, it's ours. It is ALL ours! You have a problem with that?! Why don't you try and stop us.
~Lilith throws the camera down onto the floor, hard, the lens cracking a bit as it continues to film sideways. Petrova at this point is a limp, broken mess. Twilight drags her off of the wall and into the middle of the hall. It is only at this point that Lilith even realizes just HOW MUCH damage Sarah had already done to her. Going any further with this assault would probably result in something far worse so Lilith rushes over to Sarah, trying to intervene.~
Lilith: Sarah! That's enough. We proved our point, Zybala is now shaking in his booties…Kitty is… not moving… that's enough.
~Sarah is not listening to a word as she lifts a boot up over Kitty’s face to stomp her against the concrete below. Lilith has to actually get in front of Sarah, who didn’t even appear to see anything at all but red.~
Lilith: Sarah! It’s me! It’s me Lilith! Stop it, it’s done!
~Sarah looks at her wife and it takes a moment for her to snap out of her absolute rage filled rush. She lowers her foot and does not stomp Kitty, instead she just spits at her as Lilith tries to calm her down, walking the two away from the scene. ~
Lilith: Someone get that trash out of my company!
~Paramedics finally rush in once the dangerous women were clear of Petrova’s limp, lifeless body.~
Smith: I … what we just witnessed was sick. Absolute madness.
Hood: The fact that Lilith … of all people just had to stop it, that says something. I have never seen such a cold … malicious hatred in someone’s eyes like what we just saw from Sarah Twilight.
Smith: That was far more than retaliation. Sarah Twilight just ended Kitty Petrova’s career … and possibly tried to end her life. There’s going to be brain injuries … God who knows what?
Hood: I know things get personal all the time in this business. But that was to a whole new level. Overkill is an understatement. She spit on her after ALL of that! Shows the level of disdain there is there.
Smith: I think it's safe to say Kitty Petrova won't be competing later tonight.
Hood: Ya think?
Smith: What will Duce do? He's still scheduled to compete for those tag titles...surely this match must be postponed?
Hood: He can find a partner, I'm sure.
Smith: On such short notice? Does Duce have any allies at the moment? Poor Duce.
Hood: Oh poor Duce my ass...guy is legit. He's tough. He'll FIGURE IT OUT
Smith: Well, that remains to be seen. What I do know is Kitty is likely out of OCW.
Hood: I can already breathe easier without the scent of husky, stale sex in the air.
Smith: Gross. Coming up next we will see Vossler back in action against...The Ubertaker!
Singles Match
Vossler (3-1) vs. The Ubertaker (3-3)
~It’s been a great night of action so far! But these fans…they want MORE. It is AMERICA, after all…and, well, we did JUST celebrate American independence…so indulgence is a given at this juncture. Belvedere stands in the ring, clearing his throat…ready to get this incoming match underway~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~Dark, ominous music begins to play. A cloud of manufactured mist fills the entrance area as THE UBERTAKER makes his way from behind the curtain, down the ramp. He’s looking super ominous. A fan yells out “HEY UBER!” He turns and smiles, waving…he realizes he’s breaking character and instantly returns to his SPOOKY behavior. He reaches the ring and awkwardly climbs onto the apron before stepping in through the ropes~
Belvedere: From Car Parts Unknown…he is…The Ubertaker!!
Smith: Interesting location.
Hood: Sounds like the kind of descriptions I get on my bill after taking a car into the car shop. Lots of unknown parts that cost lots of money.
Smith: You should take your car in to The Knife Man. He does good work and is very reasonable.
Hood: Sorry but I don’t deal with masked people.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~ The lights flash momentarily as the opening riff to "Playing The Saint" by Digital Summer begins to play. As the song picks up, Vossler appears in the crowd walking down the stairs as fans try to tap him or pat him on his shoulder~
Belvedere: "Introducing now, weighing in at 225 pounds. Hailing proudly from London, England. He is... VOOOOOSSSLEEEERRRRRRRRRR!"
~Vossler smiles confidently in his march down the stairs and towards the ring as the crowd gives him a clear mixed reaction. Their boo's are louder than their cheers, but the reaction is loud nonetheless~
~A quick leap over the barricade, twirl and slides into the ring with raised arms prompts another mixed reaction, whilst the raised arms are then lowered into a finger gun motion aimed towards the camera. There is a slow zoom in on this as Vossler slowly backs into a corner in a seated position~
Smith: Vossler back in action…although not in the spot he was looking for
Hood: This man is focused on Langston and that Savage Title.
Smith: Yep…only time will tell if he gets what he desires.
~Belvedere exits. The bell rings~
Smith: A must win if you’re Vossler.
Hood: Yea, if you can’t beat Ubertaker then you aren’t getting any title shots.
Smith: Indeed
~Vossler goes right after Uber. Uber puts his hands up. He yells “HALT!” He tries to use his DARK POWERS to control Vossler. Vossler throws Uber’s hands down and rips the hood back, revealing Uber’s full head. He drills Uber with some massive right fists!! Uber stumbles into a corner. Vossler climbs to the second rope and pummels Uber in the forehead with right hands…over and over and over again~
Smith: Vossler having none of Uber’s act.
Hood: Uber’s got people like Tony and JAM G under lock and key…but Vossler is a different species. He’s dangerous.
Smith: Yep, just ask Langston. Vossler means business.
~Vossler lifts a HUGE knee into Uber’s face. He drops down and throws Uber forward like a pile of garbarge. Uber hits the mat, dropping to his hands and knees. Vossler measures Uber up and charges forward. Uber rises to his knees. Vossler smacks Uber in the back of the head with HAKAZE!!!! Uber collapses to the mat, out~
Smith: Vossler has this match in the bag.
Hood: Yep, but he’s not done.
Smith: Nope, he wants to put the icing on the cake, so to speak.
Hood: I never liked icing. I was more of a FROSTING fan.
Smith: Is there a difference?
~Vossler yanks Uber to his feet via the hood, choking Uber’s windpipe. He gets the man up, hooks his arms and drives him face first into the mat with BOLIDE!!! Uber is down. Vossler rolls him over and makes a nonchalant cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….VOSSLER!!!!!
Smith: Total domination for Vossler. He looks ready for Langston…should that opportunity arise.
Hood: It totally should! How much better can this guy look? GIVE HIM THE MATCH!
Smith: We’re less than three weeks away from Redacted, Hood. I think management is set on Langston/Logan.
Hood: Hey, I like Logan…but fuck that noise. GIVE VOSSLER HIS SHOT
Smith: He’ll keep pestering…he’ll keep asking but it’s up to one of the three men in charge to give the man what he desires…and, time is running out.
~The Ubertaker is helped from the ring, even as Vossler stays, looking more angry than before. He talks to the referee, wanting someone else to be sent down to fight him, wanting a challenge. There's nothing the referee can do, though.~
Smith: I don't think Vossler is too satisfied right now. This was like wanting an All You Can Eat buffet and getting a cracker & some cheese.
Hood: Or wanting an all-night, multi-hooker drug fest and getting drunk and throwing up blood instead.
Smith: .. I like my analogy better.
~A frustrated Vossler starts to finally leave the ring, but then stops as "I Am Legend" by Colton Dixon starts to play! The fans leap to their feet, looking towards the back, and Vincent "The Legend" Langston walks out of the back, removing his Commissioner suit and tie. He starts heading towards the ring, as Vossler shows a smile and pulls himself back through the ropes to wait for him.~
Smith: The Commissioner is here!
Hood: Hell, no, the Savage Champion is here!
Smith: Langston and Vossler have both been wanting a piece of the other, but the match keeps getting vetoed, which keeps leading to situations like this!
~Langston gets inside the ring, rolling up his sleeves. He looks ready to fight once again, and Vossler has no objections. The two start to mouth off to each other, each swearing at the other. They are almost ready to fight, when new music hits from the stage.~
Smith: Whose music is that?
Hood: Some kind of.. orchestral music? What the fuck, this is OCW, for Christ's sake!
~The music is, indeed, grand, causing both Langston and Vossler to look back at the screen. Suddenly, a picture of Vincent Langston has appeared, holding the OCW Savage Championship. His name is prominently shown on the bottom of the screen.~
Hood: We've got the champ in the flesh and on the big screen!
Smith: What the heck is going on?
~Langston doesn't seem to know, as he stares along with Vossler. Langston's picture moves towards the side, and the words "NEXT WEEK" appear next to him, followed by "LANGSTON". Vossler looks over at Langston, possibly considering a sneak attack, but decides to wait out of curiosity. Underneath "LANGSTON", the word "VERSUS" appears, and the crowd begins to cheer at the thought that they're finally going to get the match they've been wanting. Langston is beginning to smile, when the final word appears. "DEPTH". A picture of John E. Depth then appears, and the boos begin to ring out.~
Smith: I don't think that's the match that fans were hoping to see.
Hood: It's The Savage Champion vs. Johnny Two Wins! A classic!
~Langston's smile is long gone now, as he looks angrily at the screen. There's no sign of who made the match. Vossler, shaking his head, says he knew it, and even laughs at Langston having to fight a jobber like he's been doing. He calls Langston a coward to his face, and Langston immediately responds with a right hand! The boos immediately turn to cheers as Langston and Vossler begin slugging it out, brawling throughout the ring! OCW Security is already on the way to try and separate the two men once again.~
Hood: Hell, let them fight!
Smith: I thought you were fine with what they announced?
Hood: Doesn't mean I don't want to see Langston and Vossler kill each other. Besides, this will give John E. Depth a better chance next week! I know where your money's going!
Smith: You aren't stealing my wallet again, Hood! I made sure of it, got me a chain and everything!
Hood: Weak.
~As security works to try and break up the fight, which is quickly proving to be a very difficult task, "Treachery" by Bleach begins to play. The #1 contender to the OCW Savage Title, Logan, walks out on the ramp, watching the action. He doesn't seem to be too interested in going down to where the brawl is taking place. Instead, he takes a seat, apparently munching on something. Could be popcorn, hard to say.~
Smith: Logan's out, scoping the competition!
Hood: Or he just wanted better seats for the fight.
Smith: While Langston and Vossler are focused on each other, Logan is the true #1 contender, which means he's got a guaranteed fight for the Savage Championship at Redacted. But what shape will the champ be in by then?
~As Logan looks on, Vossler and Langston push through the security to go at each other once again, to the roar of the crowd. Security desperately tries to figure out a way to keep them apart, as we leave the scene.~
~The camera opens on a rotting shed, that looks as if a small gust of wind would rip it right off of its foundation. As the scene moves closer towards the small building we can hear rustling from within. Suddenly, we’re stopped, the shed fills the screen, and slowly the door is pulled open revealing a disheveled man with tangled frizzy hair, a missing incisor, and a scruffed and torn blazer. He starts speaking in a tone akin to a whisper, soft and soothing~
“Hello, My name is Crash Rodriguez”
~The screen cuts to a montage of hardcore matches. In the flurrying images and videos, we see him catching on fire, unprotected chair shots to his head, barbed wire ripping through his skin, and him sitting and rocking back and forth, before returning to him in front of the shed.~
“I’ve participated in many hardcore deathmatches in Mexico, under my father’s watchful eye. I’ve faced off against many men.”
~Suddenly his voice rises to a high pitched squeal.~
“I’VE DISMANTLED AND DESTROYED EVERYTHING IN MY PATH! I’VE TORN APART MY BODY JUST TO BREAK THE SPIRITS OF OTHERS.”
~The man falls to his knees and stares dead-eyed into the camera as if staring through you. He starts combing his hair with his hands, at first rapidly, nearly pulling his hair out, before slowing down to a relaxed pace.~
“I’m happy to announce I’ll be joining the rising stars here at OCW. I’ll be leaving your heroes in the center of the ring, TWISTED AND MANGLED. I’ll be giving my all to impress you, the fans, and my peers. I’ll give you blood and guts.”
~Crash rises back to his feet. After a few seconds of him regaining his composure, he hunches over and grabs the side of his head and cringing as if suffering from a crippling headache. He starts whispering to himself, soft enough that we can’t make out what he’s saying. We hear him start grunting and letting out sounds reflecting his pain, before regaining his composure once again and reaching out his hands towards the camera.~
“Walk with me on my Crooked Mile, and you’ll understand this Crooked Smile.”
~Crash’s lips contort into a haunting smirk, or rather what he calls his crooked smile as the screen fades to black and words fill the void.~
“The Crooked Man Cometh”.
~We cut back to the announce team~
Smith: Our first look at Crash Rodriguez.
Hood: Guy gets a title shot opportunity BEFORE his vignette. Interesting.
Smith: Word out of the OCW main office is that Crash is extremely talented AND a hard worker. So, why not?
Hood: Hey, if the guy is legit, give him a shot. Better to let the talent rise than hold it down so they can pay their fuckin dues.
Smith: Indeed. Crash debuts next week, everyone! Up next we've got our favorite wrestler, Alice Knight -
Hood: DON'T YOU LUMP ME INTO THAT CANCEROUS CATEGORY
Smith: Taking on...The Proctologist! Let's head down to ringside!
Singles Match
Alice Knight (17-6) vs. The Proctologist (2-1)
~The fans in attendance begin to “HOOT!” They know what time it is…they know what’s about to swoop in and savagely claw smiles across their stupid faces. Belvedere, standing in the middle of the ring, clears his throat to a huge ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~”Fuck Was I” by Jenny Owens hits. The fans give a very cold…downright CHILLY reception when they see The Proctologist emerge from backstage. He’s got his sideways eyes and a crooked smile on full display. He walks at a normal pace…albeit taking his time to inspect people at ringside. When a person feels ‘under inspection’ they turn or walk away. He finally reaches the ring, steadily climbing the steps before entering through the ropes~
Belvedere: From Moab, Utah…standing six feet tall and weighing in at 200lbs…he is…The Proctologist!!!
Smith: It’s The Proctologist…back in action!
Hood: The old man suffered his first defeat last week at the knees of Duce Jones.
Smith: Indeed and, tonight, it only gets tougher as he competes against an OCW legend.
Hood: Only in OCW could you get Alice Knight against The Proctologist…fucking hell
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~”New" by No Doubt begins to play throughout the OCW arena as the fans begin to 'hoot' like owls while they cheer their OCW hero. She makes her way out of the curtain and heads to the ring with a bubbly demeanor waving her hands and arms, flapping them like a bird. She enters into the ring and continues to flap as she bounces off the ropes pointing at some of her Owlies fan members, mostly young girls and boys and drunk adults. She rushes the ropes and heads to the middle turnbuckle and makes a flapping wings hand gesture smiling at the crowd as she waits for the match to begin..~
Smith: AND THERE SHE IS!
Hood: This is what we earned our independence for? Our founding fathers would be ASHAMED. They would feel GREAT SHAME, Smith.
Smith: I couldn’t disagree more!
Belvedere: From Bethel, New York…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former OCW Champion and is in the OCW Hall of Fame…she is…Alice Knight!!!
~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Alice has been on FIRE since Not Safe For Work. She looks to earn her THIRD win in THREE weeks!
Hood: For most people that would be called showing up to work. But, for your precious Alice Knight, it’s the equivalent to LANDING ON THE MOON.
Smith: She’s had some head trauma over the past year, Hood. And, some personal issues…life hasn’t always been easy for Alice.
Hood: Well, maybe she should stop hanging around so many bums.
~The Proctologist licks his lips and begins to prowl toward Alice. Alice walks away from The Proctologist…she does her OWL strut. The fans “HOOOOOOT!” The Proctologist lunges toward Alice’s ass, hoping to wedge his way into an impromptu rectal examination. Alice hops away…finding a corner. She turns around, leaning against the buckles. The Proctologist has that LOOK in his eye. We zoom in super tight on his lips…his wrinkled tongue moistens the thin, tight lips surrounding his mouth. The fans in attendance gag~
Smith: Unnecessary camera work.
Hood: Still not as disgusting as Alice.
Smith: Now you’re being way too biased.
Hood: I’m just glad she jobbed out in that arcade game. Too bad it didn’t give her a seizure.
~The Proctologist lunges forward with his strong, creepy hands. Alice tucks and rolls forward. The Proctologist’s hands gouge the top turnbuckle. They get stuck INSIDE the turnbuckle, his super strong fingers ripping into the fabric. He’s unable to pull them out~
Smith: What stealth by Alice!!
Hood: His fucking hands are stuck in the top buckle!
Smith: Well, the man has quite the grip.
Hood: I bet he’s never met a jar he couldn’t twist open.
~Scruff runs over to help The Proctologist get his hands free. Together they pull…and pull and pull. Alice even walks over, growing concerned that this match might get CANCELLED. She heads over and looks at Scruff and The Proctologist. All three nod…they decide to count to three. The Proctologist, objects…saying they should count to Olive. Alice shrugs…Scruff just goes along with Alice~
Smith: He loves his olives.
Hood: This is ridiculous. You see what happens when we get Alice in the ring?
Smith: She’s not the one who got their hands stuck in the turnbuckle!
~They count…one…two…OLIVE! They yank back and POP The Proctologist’s hands out of the turnbuckle. He tries to shake Scruff’s hands…but Scruff says “I’m good” and backs away. He turns to thank Alice. Alice kicks him in the gut, hooks him and drops him with THE APACHE!! The Proctologist is down. Alice rolls him over for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: Woo!
Hood: I’m sure Lee Best is thrilled at what’s being aired on HOTv.
Smith: Who cares? This is about Alice Knight and OCW!
~Alice pops to her feet. We see The Proctologist roll over and dig his fingers into the mat, out of instinct…always looking to probe. Alice struts around the ring, flapping her wings as the fans chant “HOOT! HOOT! HOOT!”~
Voice: I have to admit... that was quite impressive...
~The fans erupt with cheers as Andrea Hernandez walks through the curtains.~
Smith: Hey! It's Andrea Hernandez! What brings her out here?
Hood: Oh who gives a crap? It's not like she ever has anything important to say.
Smith: And you do?
~Andrea maintains a confident composure as she continues.~
Andrea: Of course... this is Alice Knight we're talking about here. Has there ever been a time where Alice Knight HASN'T been impressive? Look Alice, I've got all the respect for you in the world but there's something you said recently that I'm still puzzled about. There you are, one of the most marketable stars OCW has ever had, one of the most successful wrestlers OCW has ever had, the championships, the Hall of Fame... all of that... and yet, I hear you talk about how you're a "big match flopper"... let's poll the audience... do you all think that Alice Knight is a big match flopper?
~The audience responds with a loud "NO!"~
Hood: But Alice Knight hasn't been Alice Knight lately... when it comes to the big matches... like NSFW... she just hasn't come through. Then again, who is Andrea to talk considering the massive chokejob of her own that she had that night?
Smith: Do we need to go down the list of names Andrea has beaten here?
Hood: She already does enough of that.
Andrea: Exactly! I get it! We hit our rough patches with big matches and all. Everyone that knows me enough here in OCW knows that I had that too before I began my Craze Championship reign. Hell, it's obvious that I hit one after NSFW... but did I let that get me down, Alice? Did I allow that to drive me away from OCW? No! I'm STILL here and as I said last week, I am going to start testing myself against the biggest names in OCW, among them... the biggest names OCW has ever had. I'm not talking about some flop like Evin Empire or a falloff like OGDA or Bester.... I'm talking about people like Lurrr... like Curt Canon... like Mike Best... like Vincent Langston.... like YOU... Alice...
~The crowd's cheers rise in anticipation.~
Andrea: ...and that's where you come in!
Smith: Wait... is she going to do what I THINK she's going to do?
Andrea: While YOU question yourself and label yourself as a "big match flopper"... you know what I'm doing? I'm stepping up and knocking them down... and while I'm doing all of that... I'm staking my claim to the throne of "best female wrestler in OCW"... a throne which you've had for a long time! I said before that I'm not here to be the next MJ Bell or the next Alice Knight... all due respect... that I'm here to be BETTER than MJ Bell... to be BETTER than you and now... I AM going to have my chance at Redacted... IF... and only IF... you step up and face me that night!
Smith: WOW!!!! There's a challenge!
~The fans erupt with massive cheers.~
Andrea: YOU have always been one of my dream matches... even LONG before I came to OCW and I am giving you the opportunity for another "big match"... the generational battle between two of the best women OCW has ever had. The choice is yours Alice... but I'm going to warn you... IF you accept this challenge... you BETTER bring the REAL Alice Knight to Redacted... not the "big match flopper" you've described yourself to be. Hoot hoot, bitch!
~Andrea leaves the ring and walks through the curtains hearing a strong cheer from the audience.~
Smith: I don't doubt that Andrea has tons of respect for Alice Knight but of course, she's never been one to sugar coat anything.
Hood: Yeah... her mouth has gotten her into trouble before. I'd keep it shut if I were her, especially if she's challenging someone of Alice's caliber.
Smith: How's Alice going to respond to this?
~Alice is left standing in the ring, mulling over the challenge~
Smith: Andrea has thrown down the challenge...what a match that would be!
Hood: There's been a lot of talk lately over who the best female in OCW history truly is...Alice Knight? Brianna Casablancas? AJ Smell...
Smith: MJ BELL
Hood: Sorry, it's been awhile. But, yes, you can even throw Annie Alvarez in there...however, people are sleeping on Andrea Hernandez who may wind up being the best of them all!
Smith: She's done everything and MORE than any female that has ever stepped foot inside OCW...aside from one, tiny detail. She's never won the OCW Title.
Hood: And Alice has.
Smith: Indeed, if she can trump Alice that'd be another feather in her cap and probably a statement which could go a long way in getting back into the OCW Title picture.
~We cut back stage to see Who'Re walking around, obviously looking for someone. After a few minutes, she sighs in relief and runs up to none other than the Paradigm Champion, The Money of The eMpire, and all around Best Boy, Cecilworth M! Farthington! She catches her breath and address the champ.~
Who'Re: Mr. Farthington! I'm glad I found you. I was told to let you know that Mr. Zybala would like to see you in his office as soon as possible.
Farthington: What even is a Mr. Zybala?
Who’Re: He owns the company!
Farthington: He owns the what now? No, that doesn’t sound like a thing that is true.
~Who’Re sighs realising that the task set for is not going to be as simple as just telling a man to go to a place. She wishes for the simpler times where she could just hold a microphone up and let a person do the chitter chatter into it. ~
Who’Re: Can you please just follow me?
Farthington: Look Harry, I am a very important man and I have TWO important things to do this week. First, I need to find a dashing polo helmet in the STATE OF FLORIDA so I can ready myself for the Bifford Battlefield and SECOND me and my best friend forever Mike need to do a tag team. I don’t have time for this Symbala and has fake owner shenaniganery.
~Who’Re digs deep into discovering a way to fulfill her mission for the day and realises that she knows what must be done.~
Who’Re: It’s… it’s about the duck.
Farthington: The what?
Who’Re: The duck… remember that duck you wanted. For weeks. On television. There was a whole PPV match about it.
~Farthington taps his toes and looks up to the sky deep in contemplation.~
Farthington: Hmmm… yes, I believe I remember a duck from before the Gentleman times but this is a different time and place and space and pace Hootiecoochie.
~Who’Re takes a deep breath and one last try and convincing Cecilworth to head to Zybala’s office.~
Who’Re: He has a really nice polo helmet in the office!
Farthington: The devil you say?
~Farthington wastes little time, he needs to look fashionable for his big polo game and rushes right towards the office of one Michael Q. Zybala. Without even a knock he rushes the door and storms in. As batters the door down he notices Zybala sitting at his desk with a smile the length of the Nile. Sitting atop the table is the majestic creature simply known as…
THE DUCK
Zybala gestures Cecilworth’s attention towards the duck, the duck is sitting in a nest made of the most beautiful hundo dollar bills that have ever been crafted by humanity. Cecilworth looks down at this scene perplexed.~
Farthington: Hello, I was promised a beautiful polo helm… wow… that duck. That’s a nice duck.
~As quickly as the duck had been forgotten for the Farthington Fancy Lad, it all came rushing back in the moment.~
Zybala: Cecilworth, glad you could make the time. This duck, this very nice duck… me and him understand each other. Do you remember the first time you met this duck.
Farthington: Why yes, I tried to buy its love and it rejected me!
~Zybala holds up a one hundred dollar bill.~
Zybala: Of course it rejected you! You tried to buy it’s love with TENS. TENS! The duck was offended that you thought so little of it. You tried to lowball the duck…
Farthington: Wads of ten dollars is a lot of money!
Zybala: Not for the duck it isn’t! Look how happy he is in my nest, my hand crafted nest of real money. See the love in his eyes he has for me. That’s how you treat a duck with respect. We have bonded Cecilworth, he is my duck now. He is mine and not yours and all because you didn’t deem him worthy of more money,
~Farthington bites his bottom lip in intense frustration.~
Farthington: First Mike and the Craze Championship and now this… Zybala you have gone TOO FAR. TOO FAR! You haven’t heard the last of this! I have a Polo Game and a tag team match to prepare for so we will continue describing what a monster you are later.
~Cecilworth slinks out of the door as we fade away.~
Smith: The eMpire enjoyed freedom under Welsh. Now, under Zybala, they are forced to adhere to rules and regulations.
Hood: Weak ass presidenting if you ask me! Zybala is going to run them off and then promote his stupid outsider bullshit. YOU WAIT AND SEE
Smith: You never give Zybala any credit.
Hood: I give him the amount of credit he deserves - NONE
Smith: I'd be careful how you speak about our OWNER. Anyway, POLO is coming up shortly. But first...Logan takes on OCW Hall of Famer, Bob Grenier!
Singles Match
Bob Grenier (28-18) vs. Logan (6-1)
~The fans seem eager for some VIOLENCE. A very SAVAGE like atmosphere has filled the arena. Belvedere, standing in the middle of the ring, clears his throat to a SAVAGE 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~
Belvedere: From Chesapeake, Virginia…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 250lbs…he is the #1 Contender to the OCW Savage Championship…Logan!!!
Smith: Logan continues to ascend the OCW rankings.
Hood: This guy is going to rip someone’s head off with that connector…you just wait and see!
Smith: He put Chastity down last week…this week, he’s set to face another OCW legend.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Where the hood...
~Grenier steps out from behind the curtain to a huge ovation!! He looks like he hasn't fully recovered from N.S.F.W. as shadows of bruises can still be seen on his body. He does not look to be in a happy mood.~
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Candada…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs…he is "The King of Bong Style" Bob Grenier!!!
~The fans cheer at his name but Bob pays them no attention. He gets in the ring as Belvedere exits. The bell rings~
Smith: Bob Grenier and Logan…who will win?
Hood: The legend should have the advantage but, man, Logan is ascending while Bob is, well, kinda out of it lately.
Smith: The loss to Dane at NSFW really took something out of him, for sure.
~Bob marches toward Logan. Logan cracks a smile and heads toward Grenier. The two men have a stare down in the center of the ring. Bob’s scarred forehead presses up against Logan’s. They trade insults back and forth…the Canadian HERO…Hawaii’s LOPAKA says things like Choad, trying to get under Logan’s skin. It doesn’t work. Logan refers to Bob as washed up~
Smith: Mind games!
Hood: With their minds pressed against one another…so meta!
Smith: Is it?
Hood: Close enough.
~Logan finally throws a punch!! It smacks the Hall of Famer across the face. Bob’s head jerks to the right…he rubs his cheek before slowly turning his head around and nodding at Logan. Logan offers his chin up to Grenier, arrogantly. Bob holds up his right fist…he shows it to the fans. They call chant “THE FIST OF CANADA!” Bob rears back…Logan braces for impact. Bob throws a right leg forward, kicking Logan in the groin. He grabs Logan by the head and plants him with a DDT, sitting up and holding his arms out. The crowd chants “CLASSIC BOB”~
Smith: A wily move by the notorious Bob Grenier.
Hood: Why trade punches with a maniac when you can kick them in the dick. Solid strategy…they call that the Canadian Way, you know.
Smith: They do not!
~Grenier returns to his feet. He grabs Logan by the hair, pulling the wounded maniac from the canvas. He whips Logan into the ropes. Logan bounces off…Bob throws a huge CANADIAN lariat…Logan ducks…he hits the ropes, bounces off and catches Bob from behind with a bulldog!!! Bob stumbles back up, staggering around. Logan stays on top of Bob with chops, backing Bob into a corner. Logan takes a few steps back, charging forward with a huge lariat!! He delivers a European Uppercut…he takes a few steps back…Grenier stumbles forward, Logan tosses him over and to the mat with a Japanese Arm Drag. Bob is down~
Smith: Logan is working Bob over!
Hood: That shit changed quickly.
Smith: Indeed! We’re seeing why Logan is one of the fastest rising stars in OCW.
~Logan yanks Bob to his feet and delivers a spinning back first, keeping the former OCW Champion stunned. Logan performs a standing backflip, kicking Bob square in the face in the process. Grenier falls back, into the ropes…they bounce him back forward. Logan charges ahead with a spear. Bob catches him!!! Bob lifts Logan up for Hollinger Park Hangman~
Smith: Bob’s got Logan up!
Hood: These fucking legends, man…can’t count them out!
Smith: Nope.
~Logan rakes Bob across the face. Scruff, out of position, misses the tactic. Logan drops behind Bob, snaring a sleeper!! Bob reaches forward with his hands, grasping at the air. Scruff moves out of the way to avoid being grabbed by desperate Bob. Logan suddenly leaps over, flipping through the air and hitting Bob with The Connector!!!! Bob’s head and neck snap back! He hits the mat, hard. Logan hovers over for the pin, Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LOGAN!!!!!
Smith: Logan did it! He put Bob away in quick fashion!
Hood: Maurako, Petrova, and now Grenier…Logan is legit, I’d say.
Smith: Indeed. He continues to lay waste to whatever’s set in his path. A path that leads directly toward Redacted and a shot at the Savage Championship.
Hood: Unlike Bob…fuckin Bob.
Smith: Another tough loss for Bob. Hopefully the legend, as he has done so often in the past, can find himself and bounce back.
Where the hood…
Where the hood at…
~We cut backstage where AKB is standing near a locker room that reads ‘DUCE’. He’s leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. A voice yells off camera~
Voice: HEY! NO SMOKING INSIDE! WE’VE HAD ONE FIRE TONIGHT WE DON’T NEED TWO!
~AKB rolls his eyes and flicks the cigarette to the side. He spots the camera~
AKB: Fuck, are we live?
~The camera nods~
AKB: Oh, well thanks for the heads up. Anyway, I’m here outside the locker room for Duce Jones. Kind of surprised he has his own locker room but, whatever…
~AKB’s mind visibly trails~
AKB: Anyway, we saw Kitty Petrova’s evisceration at the hands of R.O.S.E. earlier this evening. Kitty, well wishes and whatever the fuck. I just want you to know that once you’re feeling better and, if you aren’t all crippled up and disfigured, give me a call. Anyway…she got beat up and whatever which means that Duce lost his tag partner for tonight…right?
~A voice behind the camera says ‘you’re the reporter.’ AKB coughs and nods~
AKB: Right so Duce is a few moments away from his first OCW tag title shot. He’s got no partner but…at least he has a locker room. I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know if Duce has a partner…I’d be inclined to say ‘no’ however, given the fact he’s got his own locker room, he very well may have used that as leverage to convince a person to tag with him. And, well, that’s all I –
Voice: HOLD ON
~JACK PUFFER steps into view. The crowd pops~
Jack Puffer: AKB, thanks for the ace reporting. However, this sounds like something a DETECTIVE should investigate. So, step back and allow me to get to the bottom of this issue.
~Puffer reaches for the door. He finds it unlocked. He turns and looks at AKB, then at the camera~
Jack Puffer: Do NOT try this at home, folks. Leave investigating to the professionals.
~Puffer opens the door and begins to enter~
Jack Puffer: Excuse me, Mr. Duce. I was wondering if you had found a replacement for Miss Petrova and, if not, I’d like to humbly…
~The door is SLAMMED shut in Puffer’s face. He staggers back, stunned~
AKB: Top notch.
~Puffer brushes himself off~
Jack Puffer: Well then, I think we all have an answer to our initial question, don’t we?
~Silence. AKB looks at Puffer, confused. Puffer promptly marches away, head held high~
AKB: Back to you guys
~AKB sends it to the announce team as the sound of a FIRE catching hold nearby sends the carefree interviewer running for anonymity~
Smith: Well, I guess…Duce has yet to find a partner.
Hood: Yea, only thing we REALLY discovered is that Duce has his own personal dressing room.
Smith: A nice perk which he deserves. We’ll get the answer to this question later on…however, up next we have tag team action as the eMpire take on the Ministry of Parkness!
Tag Team Match
Mike Best © & CM!F © (4-0) vs. The Ministry of Parkness (1-0)
~Belvedere stands in the middle of the ring looking very dignified. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him a GENTLEMAN…but he’s spiffy. The fans in attendance realize it’s getting late in the night. They all begin high fiving one another…could this signify that they are anticipating some tag team action? Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~MORE Ominous Music plays. Smoke fills the entrance way. Not quite as much as earlier…budget must have run sorta low. But there’s enough to sorta get the point across. Wild laughter is heard as TONY THE SPIDER steps out, bouncing his head forward and backward like THE COCK OF THE WALK. His circular shades cover his eyes…and the traditional TONY THE SPIDER fanny pack adorns his waist. Behind him struts JAM G. He stares at the ground, shaking his head…probably should have hit the gym like he’d planned. The duo make their way down the ramp~
Smith: And there they are…a team slightly above Tornado Alley and Deluxxx but hopelessly beneath everyone else.
Hood: Feint praise?
Smith: Yes.
~They reach the ring and awkwardly enter, proving they have very little athletic ability~
Belvedere: From Parks Unknown…Tony the Spider and JAM G…they represent…The Ministry of Parkness!
Smith: Those two fools have no idea what they are in for.
Hood: A beating. A severe beating.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~It’s been awhile since we’ve heard this familiar tune which signifies DANGER. The Paradigm Champion, CM!F and the OCW Champion, Mike Best emerge from behind the curtain. Michael TWO BELTS is looking quite proud of himself while CM!F takes his very nice towel and uses it to shine a few potential blemishes on the Paradigm face plate. Both of Mike’s belts rest atop a singular shoulder~
Smith: Mike Best’s shoulder is clearly injured.
Hood: Maybe he’s trying to level up that other shoulder. WHY’S IT ALWAYS GOTTA BE NEGATIVE WHEN IT’S THE EMPIRE, SMITH?
Smith: Why would ANYONE carry two belts on one shoulder?
Hood: Like I said…he’s working that arm out. This man is always a step ahead of the competition!
~The duo make their way to the ring. Mike hustles up the steps while CM!F hops onto the apron. CM!F holds the ropes open for Mike…he enters easily (gingerly? We don’t know). Scruff stands by, keeping an eye on the proceedings. Mike stands in the center of the ring, staring into the camera with both belts over his shoulder. CM!F finds a nearby corner and hops onto the middle buckle, holding his Paradigm Championship high into the air. The fans give a mixed reaction~
Belvedere: Hailing from Champion’s Cove…they are the OCW Paradigm Champion, the OCW Craze Champion, and the OCW Champion…Cecilworth M! Farthington and Mike Best…they are the eMpire!!!
Smith: Such hubris in that ring right now.
Hood: Yea man, masked fuckers are so arrogant.
Smith: I’m talking about the eMpire!
~CM!F hops down and takes Mike’s belts. He hands all three belts to Belvedere who has a look that says “That’s a lot of metal.” He exits, carrying the belts. The bell sounds. Tony stands in the ring, starting for his ‘team’. CM!F holds the ropes open for Mike, who finds the apron~
Smith: We’re going to see the most dignified individual in OCW, supposedly, against, well, arguably the least.
Hood: How great is Mike? He’s stepping OUT of the spotlight for Farthington.
Smith: Again, I think he’s hurt, Hood. And what’s with this 180 on Mike? Last week you weren’t so kind to the OCW Champion.
Hood: Well, I mean he’s next to Farthington…a man of great taste. Plus, they are facing JAM G and Tony…the fuck am I supposed to do, root for those guys?
~Tony pulls a Cheeto from his fanny pack. CMF’s eyes light up with disgust. He marches over and slaps the cheeto from Tony’s hand!! It flies into the crowd, landing between some fat woman’s breasts. Every man offers to eat it…but she just takes it for herself. Tony laughs and leans in for a heabutt. CMF dodges the headbutt and throws Tony into the ropes! Tony sprints toward the ropes, laughing the entire time. He bounces off and eats a spinning heel kick to the face!! Tony drops to the mat…we might think he’s dead if it weren’t for the occasional laughs~
Smith: You have to hand it to Tony…he’s able to laugh in spite of tragedy.
Hood: You call this a fucking tragedy? I’ll tell you what’s tragic…the fact that OCW put CMF within fifty feet of a fucking cheeto.
Smith: Oh, the horror.
Hood: I know, right?
~CMF looks down at Tony in disgust. He really doesn’t want to touch this guy…so he starts kicking him, rolling him toward his team’s corner. JAM G looks up. CMF motions for JAM G to tag in. JAM G fires up and does so…he tries leaping over the top rope, but trips and hits the ring. However, he bounces back to his feet~
Smith: I don’t think Farthington wanted any portion of his body touching Tony.
Hood: He probably got grease poisoning after irish whipping the fucker.
Smith: Grease poisoning?
Hood: I’m sure it’s kind of a thing.
~JAM G yells out and charges at CMF. CMF sides steps JAM G. JAM G hits the ropes….he bounces off and throws a lariat at CMF. CMF blocks the lariat and slaps JAM G in the face multiple times. JAM G leans forward…Farthington hooks him, lifts him up and drops him on the top of his head with a Gotch Style Piledriver. CMF pops to his feet and looks at his body…he wipes it off, disgusted~
Smith: Yea, I don’t think JAM G is any cleaner.
Hood: Poor CM!F…swimming with such swine may impact his gentleman performance!
Smith: Don’t get me started on those games!
~Mike yells out. CMF turns. Mike’s got his hand out for a tag. CM!F hesitates but Mike insists. So, CMF walks over and tags Mike in. The OCW Champ steps in, through the ropes, carefully. He marches toward JAM G~
Smith: And The OCW Champion is getting in on the action!
Hood: After CMF did all the hard work!
Smith: Well, yes…but the work wasn’t THAT hard.
Hood: That’s because CMF makes things look easy.
~JAM G remains down. Mike uses the arm belonging to his uninjured shoulder. He rips JAM G off the mat as though he were a blow up doll. He savagely throws him into the nearest corner. JAM G flies through the air, slamming into both buckles. Mike charges in and delivers a huge KNEE to JAM G’s face. He takes a few steps back, measuring JAM G up~
Smith: The OCW Champion is treating JAM G like he weighs five pounds!
Hood: Mike might wind up being the best one armed wrestler on the planet.
Smith: I’m still disgusted by Mack’s actions. There was no need to take things that far.
Hood: The only action Mack does that disgusts me is when he drink water.
~Mike charges in. JAM G’s legs give out and he collapses to the mat. Mike RAMS into the corner, bad shoulder first!! He yells “FUCK!” and reaches for his shoulder, dropping to one knee. He leans over, placing his forehead against the mat. The crowd quiets~
Smith: Oh no…that shoulder.
Hood: Does Mack have a Mike Best voodoo doll?
Smith: No you idiot! Mike ran shoulder first into the corner after JAM G collapsed.
Hood: Oh. Does Mack have a JAM G voodoo doll?
Smith: Be quiet!
~CMF looks on, concerned. He yells for Mike to tag him back in. Tony is eating Cheetos, laughing. Mike looks up, spotting his partner. He struggles to his feet, holding that shoulder. He stumbles for the corner and CMF tags Mike on the good shoulder, leaping into the ring over the top rope. He holds the ropes open so Mike can exit…Mike takes a seat on the apron, holding that shoulder~
Smith: That shoulder might have serious damage, Hood.
Hood: Welcome to OCW adversity, Mike.
Smith: I know people want to see Mike fail…but not like this. You never want to see a champion struggle at less than 100%.
~CMF grabs JAM G’s arm. He looks over at Mike, realizing the sooner they get out of this, the better. He immediately locks in Great Article 50. JAM G taps instantly. Scruff calls for the bell, retrieving all three belts~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…Mike Best…Cecilworth M! Farthington….THE eMpire!!!!!
Smith: An easy victory which saw one unfortunate spot.
Hood: Yea, truth be told…Mike shouldn’t have been out here.
Smith: Agreed.
~CMF takes the belts and runs around, celebrating with all three. The man isn’t afraid to show off. The crowd screams~
Smith: What’s going on?!
Hood: These fans are overwhelmed by CMF’s greatness!
Smith: No, that’s not it…oh my gosh! It’s Mack!
~Mack hops the barricade. He chugs what remains of a flask of Jameson, tossing it aside. He yanks Mike off the apron, via his bad shoulder. Mike yells out in pain. The fans start to boo. Mack looks into the ring. CMF pauses…he turns around, spotting Mack. Mack takes Mike’s bad arm and hits HOLLOW POINT on it, directly impacting the injured shoulder!! The fans booo!!! CMF sprints toward the ropes, leaping over the top rope, dropping all the belts but the OCW Title. He lands on the outside floor. Mack is already over the barricade. CMF lunges at him, swinging the title. But Mack’s gone, disappearing into the crowd`
Smith: Somebody stop that man! He needs to be reprimanded for his actions!
Hood: Mack is a shark. There is blood in the water. That’s OCW behavior, brother.
Smith: We need help out here!
~People surround Mike. CMF pushes them away. He collects the other two titles...he helps Mike to his feet. Mike holds that bad shoulder in tight…he’s doing his best to downplay the pain, but it’s obvious he’s nearly crippled from it. CMF helps him toward the ramp…the fans begin to cheer for the champion~
Smith: These fans don’t want to see the OCW Champion injured like this, Hood. He was out here competing, doing what he does best only for Mack to take advantage.
Hood: Mike needs to appreciate what’s important…it isn’t teaming with friends of fighting morons…it’s protecting that OCW Title. He’s doing a shitty job of that right now.
Smith: I disagree…Mike is the FACE of this company. He takes it upon his shoulders to show up every single week, promoting OCW. Sadly, one of those shoulders appears to be in an extreme state of disrepair.
~Massacre cuts to something. Is it the ring? No, it’s a field!
A POLO FIELD!
Yeah boy, it’s time for more of A Gentleman’s Affair. We get a brief overview of the grass field with a set of goal posts at either end.~
Smith: Well folks, it’s once again time for our Paradigm Champion and his number one contender to duke it out in a gentlemanly affair. We’re had War, we’ve had Snooker, now we have Polo.
Hood: Where the hell did they find a Polo field in Key West?
Smith: This series of events is ever the mystery.
~As the camera pans down the field we see a few key shots that you would expect in the affair of polo. Helmets, mallets, horses, Durangos. Yes, you heard me, Durangos. In the centre of the polo field stands the Gentleman’s Game Host in the finest golden threaded suit that a gentleman’s gentleman could get their hands on. He stands ready in the centre, microphone in hand. On the left side of the field, the Hottest Lad and Charismatic Boy CM!F riding astride his Durango and leaning down on his mighty fine steed of a horse. On the other side of the field stands a very large Bifford and a very nervous looking horse. Bifford wields his MIGHTY SCYTHE which if anything just makes the horse look even more nervous. Bifford eyes the horse looking a bit uncertain.~
Smith: I hate to say it but I have my doubts that Bifford is going to be able to ride that horse without breaking every bone in its body.
Hood: Any good gentleman can ride a noble steed, if Bifford is the true gent that he proclaims to be he will find a way to get up there.
Smith: I just don’t want to see a horse shot on national television.
~Cecilworth gestures to Durango to hoist him up upon the horse which he dutifully does, placing his good friend gently upon the magnificent mount. From the heavens, the most stunning paisley patterned helmet descends upon the Paradigm Champion’s head. By the heavens I mean someone tossed it from off camera and that had good enough aim to get it right on the ole Farthington noggin. Bifford attempts to hoist on his horse but it looks like it is having none of it.~
Gentleman’s Game Host: Ladies and gentleman, welcome to round 3 of this Gentleman’s Affair. Tonight we see a contest of grace and beauty on the polo field. This bout is scheduled to last for the full TWO HOURS.
Smith: Two hours of polo? What about the rest of tonight’s matches?
Hood: Are they polo? Are they gentleman’s contests? If not, I don’t see how they are required.
~Cecilworth holds his mallet up high, indicating he is ready. Bifford and his horse are still not quite simpatico. Bifford points his MIGHTY SCYTHE over to the other side of the field, right in the direction of Durango as his MAGICAL FLEECE sways gently in the wind of the battlefield.~
Bifford: Bring me that one, he looks like a fine beast.
~The Gentleman’s Game host rushes towards CM!F to confer on this situation.~
Smith: It seems like Bifford is requesting the use of Durango for this contest of polo.
Hood: I mean if anything in the world can bear the weight of Bifford it’s going to be that hulking man beast friend of Cecilworth’s.
Smith: I’m still not really sure how any of these games prove how gentlemanly either one of these two is…
Hood: That’s because you are not a gentleman.
~The golden suit of the host gleems in the summer Florida sun as he discusses Bifford’s request with the Paradigm champion. In the background we see the horse that was assigned to Bifford gallop away in disgust of the entire situation, heading back to whatever paddock he came from with all of his bones thankfully in tact. The horse turns back to look at Bifford who points his MIGHT SCYTHE at the horse. The horse neighs dismissively in response as it continues to trot off the field.~
Smith: I guess Durango is the last hope for Bifford here, his own horse has abandoned the playing field.
Hood: It seems like that horse spent a year in college!
Smith: That’s not how the joke… you know what. I’m not even going to get into this.
~The conferring between Cecilworth and the host continues as Cecilworth gesticulates wildly at Durango and at Bifford. Cecilworth looks particularly upset during the conference, his arms moving more fast and more furious with each part of the contest. He points to Durango and throws up an X towards Bifford. Bifford looks behind him, wondering if his horse is still within MIGHTY SCYTHE range. ~
Smith: It seems like Cecilworth isn’t taking too kindly to the request from Bifford.
Hood: Well it’s his Durango, not Bifford’s Durango.
~The conversation wraps up between Cecilworth and the host. Cecilworth nods in Bifford’s direction, Bifford nods back. They are both gentleman after all, they do not let quarrels stand in the way of being upstanding members of society.~
Gentleman’s Game Host: Ladies and gentlemen, I am sorry to report that as he cannot mount a noble steed, The Big Bifford has been…
Hood: No! Don’t say it! Say it is not so! This is a dark day in polo history.
Smith: Do you even know anything about polo?
Hood: MALLETS!
~Bifford waits for the end of the announcement, still anticipating being gifted a Durango.~
Gentleman’s Game Host: DISQUALIFIED! Cecilworth Farthington wins the game of polo and now leads the series three games to zero.
Hood: A gentleman should not accept a disqualification victory!
Smith: Realistically I don’t think there was anything Bifford could mount to make this a fair contest and not end with the untimely demise of a
horse.
~A dejected looking Cecilworth takes off his perfect Polo helmet. He sadly looks towards Bifford and gives the most miserable salute a human could muster. For his part, Bifford tilts his MIGHTY SCYTHE towards Cecilworth and begins to walk off the field. Cecilworth begins his dismount onto Durango.~
Hood: A dark day for OCW.
Smith: I’m starting to think that Gentleman’s Game Host may not be on the up and up.
Hood: This is a sad enough situation without you bringing your wild conspiracy theories into it.
Smith: Farthington has a commanding 3-0 lead...can't believe I'm going to go into this much detail...Bifford needs to win the next two if he wants any kind of momentum heading into REDACTED.
Hood: Don't hashtag that shit...otherwise half the show might be blacked out.
Smith: Right...let's cut to a commercial before tonight's MAIN EVENT
Main Event
OCW Tag Team Championship
R.O.S.E. © (4-0) vs. Duce Jones & TBD (0-0)
~The fans are on their feet. They chant “DUCE! DUCE! DUCE!’ expressing their support for Duce Jones. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his throat to get the suspense over with~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This match is a tag team match scheduled for one fall and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championships!! Introducing first…
~The lights go out as a purple spotlight centers on stage. The beginning chords to "Evil In Me" by Thomas Edwards begin to kick in. The crowd boos MASSIVELY~
Belvedere: From Los Angeles, Califonia ....making their way to the ring at a combined weight of three hundred pounds .... they are the OCW Tag Team Champions ... Lilith ... Sarah Twilight ... R.O.S.E.!!!!!!
~Pyros shoot up from both sides of the entrance ramp and the melody finally kicks into high gear as Lilith appears at the top of the entrance ramp. She is quickly flanked by Sarah Twilight, the OCW Tag Team Championships around their waists. The two women nod at each other with sinister grins as Lilith proceeds to saunter her way down to the ring, showing off her championship gold obnoxiously along the way. Sarah arrogantly swaggers towards the ring, taking her time to revel in her own glory among ENRAGED fans before she reaches the ring steps and steps inside. Pyros now shoot off from the ring posts as Lilith and Sarah take to opposite turnbuckles. Sarah staring coldly and without emotion into the sea of 'sheep' as she raises her championship skyward to even LOUDER boos. Lilith coddles her championship like a mother holding a child as she looks out at the crowd, laughing hysterically. They finally take their place at the center of the ring to hold their championships skyward once more as a waterfall of purple flare rains down upon them~
Smith: The CHAMPIONS coming out first.
Hood: I guess Duce is holding out hope he finds a partner at the last second…that or he’s a drama queen like his old man.
Smith: I don’t remember Krayzie being a drama queen!
Hood: Shh, don’t alter my warped narrative!
Belvedere: And, their opponents…the challengers…introducing first…
~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: Well, Duce is out here…alone.
Hood: Are we going to get some delayed, dramatic entrance?
Smith: I hope so…it would be terrible if his big opportunity is blown by these unfortunate circumstances.
Hood: Fuckin Kitty, ruining the fun for everyone!
~The fans are all staring toward the entrance ramp. They’ve seen this before. Duce walks up to Belvedere and sighs. He says a few words we can’t hear. Belvedere pats Duce on the shoulder before announcing~
Belvedere: I have just been informed that Duce Jones will be competing solo in tonight’s main event!
~The fans are disappointed. They chant “FUCK YOU, LILITH!” Lilith laughs. Twilight steps through the ropes, finding the apron. Belvedere takes their titles and exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: These fans are irate and they should be!
Hood: Dude, Kitty started the attacks. Fuck her.
Smith: Poor Duce…this opportunity, ruined. I can’t stand to see a good person left out to dry like this.
~Duce takes off and SPLASHES Lilith in her team’s corner. The crowd goes wild!! Sarah reaches in, trying to grab him but he headbutts her off the apron!! She lands roughly on the outside. Duce delivers a D-Trigga into Lilith’s head. He throws her halfway across the ring with a hiptoss. The fans are on fire~
Smith: Look at Duce go!!!
Hood: Holy shit! Dude might be making lemonade!
~Duce snares Lilith by the hair. He’s treating her with anger, vengeance, and fury…NO MERCY. He tosses her onto his shoulders…fireman’s carry! The fans are jumping up and down chanting “DUCE! DUCE!” the arena feels like it’s shaking. He tosses Lilith up and SMASHES her face with a knee!!! She collapses to the mat. He backs away, measuring the co-tag champion up~
Smith: Duce just hit Final Tic 2.0!
Hood: Dude..he’s really gonna do this.
Smith: He’s eyeing Krayzed Knee! A tribute to his father…he’s about to make the entire Jones family proud!!! C’mon, Duce!!!
~Duce leans into the ropes, about to take off. Lilith is helpless. He leans into the ropes for some leverage and gets CRACKED in the back via a chairshot!!! Scruff rushes over like “what the heck?” Twilight drops the chair and slides into the ring. Scruff looks like he’s going to call for the bell…Twilight kicks him in the face and tosses him out of the ring. The fans BOOOO~
Smith: What the heck?!
Hood: Protecting their investment.
Smith: Two on one wasn’t enough? Seriously? You have to CHEAT
Hood: I think they want a restart, Smith. They clearly weren’t ready.
~Duce tries getting up, but his back is half paralyzed due to spasms. Twilight grabs him by the head and drops him with a DDT. She walks over to Lilith, checking on her wife. Lilith starts to come to. Twilight exits the ring~
Smith: Oh no
Hood: They are about to FUCK him up.
Smith: Please don’t…you already squashed Kitty. NOT DUCE
~Twilight grabs the ring bell. Lilith reaches her feet, she holds her face. It hurts. She spots Duce and SCREAMS at the top of her lungs. The fans at ringside cover their ears. Twilight slides into the ring. Lilith dives at Duce, punching, clawing, scratching at his face. Duce his best to cover up. The fans BOOO. They chant “FUCK YOU GUYS!” Twilight tries to snap Lilith out of her craze~
Smith: Lilith is FURIOUS…she’s trying to claw his eyes out.
Hood: Yea, which sucks…but if they make use of that ring bell…
Smith: Serious damage could be done.
~Twilight is finally able to remove her wife. She hands her the ring bell. Lilith says ‘YES’. Twilight grabs a weathered Duce…she hooks his arms and presents him, defenseless, to Lilith. Lilith reaches back with the bell~
Smith: Somebody stop this!!
Hood: You can’t stop inevitability, Smith. ROSE is one of the most dominating forces in OCW.
~Duce looks Lilith in the eye and says ‘fuck you.’ Lilith gets ready to blast him when, suddenly, the crowd goes wild!!! Lilith pauses. Our view shifts to see THE DRAVERS running down to the ring~
Smith: THE DRAVERS!!
Hood: Fuck me
Smith: Nathan and Jonathan! We haven’t seen them since Not Safe For Work!
~The Dravers hit the ring!! Lilith tries hitting Nathan with the bell…but he dodges it and SUPERKICKS Lilith over the top rope, to the floor. The crowd chants ‘YES!’ Twilight throws Duce down…only to get a SUPERKICK from Jonathan!!! Her body tumbles through the ropes, to the outside. Nathan and Jonathan march around the ring to a HUGE ovation. Jonathan stops to check on Duce while Nathan steps on the middle buckle and points at the members of R.O.S.E.~
Smith: The Dravers earned those tag titles at NSFW only to have Twilight cash in her contract and STEAL those belts.
Hood: Steal my ass…she earned that shit. Only jealous morons would mention THEFT.
Smith: Ugh, whatever…it just didn’t seem fair.
~Lilith stumbles around the ring, snaring the tag titles from Belvedere. She finds Twilight, helping her to her feet. They reach the ramp, holding both belts. Duce is finally on his feet. Jonathan and Nathan point and yell at R.O.S.E. Lilith SCREAMS at them while Twilight shakes her head…murderous intent displayed in her eyes~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…I have just been informed that this match has been ruled a No Contest!
~The crowd BOOS. Duce looks toward Belvedere as if to say “are you kidding me?”~
Belvedere: Which means STILL OCW CHAMPIONS…R.O.S.E.!!!!!
Smith: They leave with the Tag Titles but they aren’t winners.
Hood: A no fucking contest. First legit title match since NSFW and it’s a no fucking contest.
Smith: Blame the champs, Hood. Duce came ready to fight, despite the 2-1 disadvantage and the champs had to cheat.
Hood: And now you’ve got the fucking Dravers in there with their stupid hair…STUPID.
Smith: I’d say Duce AND the Dravers have a great argument for a shot at those belts.
~Duce leans against a corner, checking his nose and reaching for his back. The Dravers climb to opposite corners and play to the fans. The champs, meanwhile, stand atop the ramp…they hold their belts high to MASSIVE BOOS~
Smith: Duce was screwed. R.O.S.E. is out of control and needs to pay for what happened tonight. And the Dravers, well, they deserve a rematch.
Hood: This all seems to be leading somewhere.
Smith: Indeed. Well, that’s all the time we have tonight, folks!! We’ll see you next week at Massacre as the road to Redacted continues!
~We fade to black~