OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, July 15th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~It’s Monday! Monday night, that is. We’re mid-July which means summer is winding down. News that hits us good or bad, depending on profession, age, a number of variables. For this particular individual, summer can’t end fast enough. Cooler weather, higher quality sports…music to this man’s ears! However, during the barren doldrums of summer, we occupy our Monday evenings with OCW Massacre! Tonight is no exception…it seems like only yesterday Not Safe For Work aired from new Braunfels. And, yet, here we are, two weeks out from Redacted. My how time flies (in certain circumstances). The previous weekend was fairly laid back…a few familial obligations, but nothing too terribly wild. Work was productive. So, yea, we’re in a pretty solid mood. The TV turns on, straight to HOTv. No drunken channel surfing was had the previous evening. The OCW logo appears…it’s followed promptly by that badass Massacre logo which still gets us hard from time to time. We cut directly to the OCW Arena! The fans are going wild! They chant “OCW! OCW!” We beeline over to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood.
Hood: Tragic news, everyone!
Smith: What?!
Hood: The Lion King is getting MEH reviews.
Smith: I know you’re trying to be funny…but that is, indeed, tragic news.
Hood: Grow up and watch something rated higher than PG ya fucking weirdo.
Smith: I watched Titanic, for your information! Anyway, another night of strong in-ring action as we reach the ENDGAME toward Redacted. We are ONLY two weeks away!
Hood: Somewhere, some man’s anus is tightening as he thinks about the shit load of writing that awaits.
Smith: Indeed. Tonight will play an integral part in shaping the card for Redacted as Darin Zion, Crash Rodriguez, and Mark Storm do battle for the right to face Ed Houston for the Craze Championship!
Hood: Kind of excited for that, not gonna tell any tales outside of school. Also eager to see what Mike and Mack do…
Smith: Yep, Mike Best, Darin Zion’s favorite wrestler, will be the special ref for that match. Mack O’Connor will reside as the special timekeeper.
Hood: I’m sure nothing out of the ordinary will take place.
Smith: The Savage Champion, a man who has been hunted by just about everyone since NSFW will return to in-ring competition this evening against…John E Depth.
Hood: Commissioner Langston better watch his back. He’s being hunted.
Smith: Ed Houston takes on one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Lilith in what should be a sneaky good match.
Hood: I don’t know why Ed wants to face this fucking woman two weeks out from his title match at Redacted but, hey, I guess that’s why NASA removed him from the program. BAD DECISIONS.
Smith: Because he’s a competitor, Hood. This will be the first time we’ve seen Lilith in singles competition in quite some time. I’m curious to see how her game has evolved.
Hood: News flash – it hasn’t.
Smith: Duce Jones, the man who got screwed last week, returns to the ring to face Kip Young.
Hood: Advice for Duce…do not invite Kip to be your tag partner. You may as well challenge for those tag titles alone.
Smith: That’s not really fair to Kip.
Hood: Fuck Kip.
Smith: Sarah Twilight and Chastity Temple square off. These two had something brewing awhile back but, as with everything Chastity was involved with, it’s pretty much fizzled out. I’m sure tonight’s match will put a cap on their story and whatever Chastity is doing in OCW.
Hood: Something something, wasted talent, something something
Smith: Logan, the man who is booked to attempt to take the Savage Title from Langston as Redacted will square off against Skittlez.
Hood: I hear Logan prefers chocolate. That means Skittlez lost his lone bargaining chip. He be fucked.
Smith: Scott Stevens, a man who has been on a tear since joining OCW, looks to continue his path of demolition by destroying Great Scott.
Hood: It feels like Stevens and Lurrr are destined to fight at Redacted. Lurrr’s due some comeuppance.
Smith: Indeed…and I’ve heard rumors that Lurrr may be in Key West tonight.
Hood: Stevens, bro, be careful. Lurrr is the kind of dick who might take pleasure in trying to cost you a match against OCW’s most notorious jobber.
Smith: And, in our opening match, Crystal Sharpe and The Road Dawg…two competitors who won their debut matches, will return to the ring to face one another.
Hood: One is hot and the other is named The Road Dawg. When in doubt, go with hotness.
Smith: It should be a great lineup, everyone! Redacted is only TWO weeks away…expect matches to be solidified, feuds to reach crescendo levels of heat, and unpredictable outcomes! Monday Night Massacre starts, now!
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Singles Match
Crystal Sharpe (1-0) vs. The Road Dawg (1-0)
~The fans are READY for some action. Not pay by the hour action…but good, old fashioned, in-ring VIOLENCE. That type of action. Belvedere, standing in the ring, clears his throat to a huge ovation…it’s time to get things started~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~“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: And here comes The Road Dawg!
Hood: He’s received some flak from OCW fans over his…well, his very being. However, the dude is undefeated.
Smith: Indeed and tonight he looks to run his record to 2-0!
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"Ice Dance" by Danny Elfman begins to play, as Crystal Sharpe skips out on to the stage. She skips to one end of the stage, smiling brightly at the fans who are giving her an extremely warm welcome. She eventually decides which side of the arena is the loudest and blows a kiss to them, blowing little pieces of silver glitter into the air~
Belvedere: On her way to the ring, from Anchorage, Alaska... weighing in at one hundred thirty eight pounds... "The Ice Princess"... CRYSTAL SHARPE!!
~Crystal continues to skip down to the ring, blowing a few more kisses to her fans and giving them high fives. Reaching the ring she quickly bounces up onto the ring apron, jumping through the middle rope and pointing at a few of the fans nearby who are cheering loudly for her. Crystal climbs up the turnbuckle and taunts for the crowd with her arms up in the air as she waits for the match to begin~
Smith: And here comes the woman who is eternally dedicated to Logan…Crystal Sharpe.
Hood: She should probably consult therapy.
Smith: Rumor has it she’s already in therapy.
Hood: Guess that just goes to show…therapy is useless.
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: Alright! Two competitors in the infancy of their OCW careers…who will take a step up?
Hood: The Road Dawg is bigger…stronger…but he is…The Road Dawg.
Smith: Crystal seemed to doubt her chances in this match. Insecurity is a hard obstacle to overcome in competition.
~Sharpe tentatively approaches TRD. TRD looks down upon the diminutive Sharpe. She reaches out to lock up. With a smirk, TRD obliges, locking up with Sharpe. He throws her down to the mat, instantly. Sharpe hits hard. TRD kicks Sharpe around…she rolls toward the edge of the ring, under the ropes, to the apron. TRD shoves her off the apron, to the floor. The fans boo his slightly negative behavior~
Smith: The Road Dawg asserting his physical dominance early on.
Hood: As he should…maybe Crystal will submit to FEAR
Smith: I’d hope not.
Hood: Good point. If she did that she’d disappoint Logan.
~Crystal sits up against the barricade looking into the ring. She seems hesitant on getting back in. Scruff yells out “ONE!” TRD doesn’t pursue…he, instead, waits to see what her next move is. Scruff yells “TWO!” The fans begin to boo. We turn to see Logan marching to the ring~
Smith: Speak of the devil!
Hood: Handsome devil?
Smith: No…more along the lines of your standard satanic figure.
Hood: You just can’t compliment that man, can you?
Smith: When he earns a compliment, I’ll give it to him.
~Scruff yells “THREE!” Logan stands over Crystal. He begins to berate her, ordering her to get back in the ring. At first, she appears a little gun shy. But, soon, she realizes that she’s ‘letting him down’. Scruff yells “FOUR!” Logan reaches down, grabbing her by the arm. He yanks her to her feet and points inside the ring. Crystal nods and slides back in where she’s immediately greeted by BOOTS from TRD~
Smith: What a jerk!
Hood: What are you talking about? He’s teaching her the value of STICKING WITH IT. He won’t let her quit…that’s a good, strong companion, Smith.
Smith: She’s clearly intimidated. I’m not saying she should quit…but words of encouragement would have done the job.
Hood: Hey, every couple encourages each other in different ways.
~TRD grabs a handful of Sharpe’s hair, yanking her to her feet. We spot Logan in the background, shaking his head. He clearly disapproves of her performance thus far. TRD scoops Crystal up and SLAMS her into the ground. Her much smaller body hits hard. TRD steps over her, toward the ropes. He steps through the ropes, onto the apron, right in front of Logan. Logan just stands there~
Smith: I’m not one to advocate any form of cheating but…is he not going to help Crystal out?
Hood: He wants her to prove it on her own, Smith. This is one hell of a man!
Smith: Pretty deplorable individual, if you ask me.
Hood: Yea well, just like Crystal’s psychologist…NOBODY ASKED FOR A FUCKING OPINION.
~TRD jumps up, springboards off the top rope (showing tremendous athleticism) and drops a leg across Sharpe’s throat. He quickly transitions into a pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Kick out by Sharpe!
Hood: Don’t disappoint Logan, Jugs.
Smith: JUGS?!
Hood: Ah yea, you’re right. Her tits aren’t really her best feature. Should just call her ass…especially if she loses tonight.
Smith: You disgust me.
~Logan yanks Crystal to her feet. He looks out at Logan, eying the #1 contender to the Savage Title down. He turns Crystal around, hooking her waist. He makes it well known that he wants Logan to watch what’s coming. He lifts Sharpe up for a German…Sharpe, though, grabs TRD by the head and drops him to the mat with Sharpe Decline!!!! TRD flips over, stunned!! Crystal makes the cover!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…CRYSTAL SHARPE!!!!!
Smith: Out of nowhere!
Hood: Holy shit…Road Dawg is going to be PISSED
Smith: He got a little too preoccupied with Logan.
Hood: See? Logan was out here to help Crystal!
Smith: Yea, right.
~Logan slides into the ring. Crystal is helped to her feet by Scruff. She spots Logan and goes to hug him. He blows right past her and jumps on top of TRD, pounding him with lefts and rights. The fans BOOOO. Sharpe looks down...she seems disappointed. OCW personnel hit the ring~
Smith: What is this maniac doing?!
Hood: Defending his woman’s honor!
Smith: She did that herself! He just wants to be a bully, that’s all.
~Logan is finally pulled from TRD. TRD tries sitting up…he’s clearly bewildered from the unexpected attack which promptly followed Sharpe Decline. Logan tries getting back after TRD, but it’s made impossible by security. Crystal urges him to leave. She opens the ropes for him. He steps through. She then waits for him to return the favor…but he hops off the apron, to the outside. The fans boo. She steps through the ropes and hops to the outside, walking alongside Logan, leaning into them as they exit the ringside area~
Smith: Hopefully someone will clue Crystal in…she’s stuck within a toxic relationship.
Hood: Whatever, man. She was getting her beautiful ass kicked. Logan comes out and BOOM she wins. They are perfect for one another.
Smith: I disagree. Regardless…Crystal with another win tonight. Meanwhile, a tough loss for The Road Dawg.
Hood: Hey, dude showed up and fought. That’s more than you can say for most.
Smith: Indeed. Hopefully he takes this loss, learns from it and returns smarter and stronger than before.
~We cut backstage to see OCW owner Mike Zybala walking down the hallway. He is carrying a box of Oreo's and a box of Chips Ahoy. He seems to be looking for someone. A few moments pass before he smiles as he spots Lilith walking. He speeds up his step as he tries to catch up~
Zybala: Lilith! A moment of your time, please!
~Lilith turns around, looking down at the boxes of cookies the OCW boss is carrying. She smiles brightly at him and nods her head~
Lilith: Okayz that's a nice start, Zebra face.
Zybala: Well, we never really had a good chance to get to know each other, and last week both of our tempers were heated. So, I spent all last week thinking about our meeting and reflected on what you said. You made a few points and I thought a peace offering was in order, hence the cookies.
~He holds out the cookies, but doesn't hand them over yet. Lilith just looks at him and starts to laugh~
Lilith: Let me guess… you saw what Lilo and her Sare Bear did to the ugly little Kitty Cat and BOOM suddenly now you're taking us seriously. How you getting along with the ACTUAL issues I brought up to you? Cos last I checked those dumbass fans were STILL booing me! Do you honestly think that's any way to treat your BEST Champion and also… ALSO!!! The GODDESS of professional wrestling?! HUH?!!
~Zybala smirks as he pulls the cookies closer~
Zybala: Like I said, I THOUGHT about a peace offering! Then I remembered that little attitude of yours. Yes, you and your wife took out Kitty. Congratulations for handling your own problem like an adult. Now here you are, bitching about the fans again.
~Zybala places the Chips Ahoy box on the ground. Lilith watches it the entire time. Zybala then opens the Oreo box and takes out the tasty treat. He holds it up for Lilith to see~
Zybala: Let's say that this Oreo is you. You have a hard cookie layer on the outside that acts all tough. But on the inside, you're sweet and soft and just want to be loved. Like the cookie, not everybody is going to find you tasty or like you. Yes, you're special to your wife and your family and in your mind, but to everyone else, you don't matter. That's what is called an opinion. Everyone is entitled to their own, and the fans booing you is them showing you their opinion. Now let me show you mine.
~Zybala takes the box of cookies and hurls them against the wall; smashing the delicious snacks. Lilith looks on shocked as Zybala then proceeds to stomp on the Chips Ahoy on the floor. He composes himself, gets in Lilith's face and looks her dead in the eye~
Zybala: You are a fucking adult! If you have a problem, YOU solve it! I am sick of your whining and complaining about people that don't like you. People don't like me and you don't see me crying about it. Oh, and if you EVER lay your hands on me again like you did last week, I will crush you like I did these cookies! As your boss and employer, have I made myself crystal fucking clear?!
~Lilith just looks between the now broken up cookies and Zybala with a shocked look on her face. She looks like she's about to finally say something but then bursts out crying, tears streaming down her face like she's just found out that Santa Claus isn't actually real.~
Lilith: What--- what you said was just like the MEANEST thing EVER!!! How COULD YOU?!
~Lilith wipes away a few of the tears, with her arm, by the time she puts it back down by her side the expression on her face has completely changed. No more tears in sight. She evilly grins at Zybala and then lashes out at him, putting her forearm against his throat and pushing him back against the nearest wall~
Lilith: Like I was saying… how COULD you do something so fucking stupid to THE most dangerous woman on this whole fucking roster?! No, no…
~Lilith laughs a little bit to herself~
Lilith: That's selling myself short! I'm the most dangerous PERSON on this roster… PERIOD!!! You fucked up BIG TIME trying to come at me all Grrrrrr and moody and smashing cookies right in front of me… ARE YOU COMPLETELY GONE IN THE HEAD?!! So I'm going to ask you this ONCE… why… WHY should I not just do to you what my lovely Sarah did to that stupid bitch Kitty last week?!
~Zybalas face was now starting to turn all sorts of funny colors, Lilith just pushed against his throat even harder whilst smiling as sweetly as ever at him~
Lilith: And don't play the “because I'm your boss” shit with me! You really think I CARE about that?! No, the answer is no. TICK TOCK ZEBRA!!! I give you about 30 seconds before you pass out on the floor and that'd be SUPER SUPER SAD if that happened! It really would!
~Zybala struggles as he slowly starts to fade. With the last bit of strength he has, Zybala looks Lilith in the eye and smiles~
Zybala: Haa….rder….
~Lilith is stunned with disgust as she steps back a little bit, giving Zybala room to breathe… and counterattack! He lowers his shoulders, grabs Lilith and charges her into the opposite wall. In a bit of retaliation, Zybala straightens up and wraps his hand around Lilith's throat and squeezes hard~
Zybala: You wanted an answer? Because I'm Mike Fucking Zybala! I don't Grrrr, you bitch, I ROAR!! I'm not Welsh. I fight back, and I fight hard. Now I will tell you this one last time. If you EVER touch me again…
~Lilith begins to maniacally grin at Zybala as he continues to choke her, she then carefully lifts up her leg and KNEES him right in his gut, causing him to stumble backwards. Lilith gasps for air as she starts to laugh a bit more~
Lilith: I'm sorry… Mike… I’m just not very good at following orders.
~She pulls a sad puppy dog look at him and then charges at him, connecting her shoulder into his stomach and throwing them both across onto the floor. Lilith and Mike Zybala continue to fight each other on the floor, each exchanging left and right hands into each others upper bodies for some time. Zybala finally manages to push Lilith away and stands up off the floor, Lilith finally doing the same. They scowl at each other and then grab whatever they can get their hands on. Lilith grabs a large camera and Zybala grabs a steel chair. They then charge at each other again, connecting each other with the objects at the same exact time and collapse down onto the floor again. Lilith and Mike lie still next to each other, breathing heavily, as the brunette looks across at Mike~
Lilith (breathing heavily): Was it good for you too?
~Before Zybala can answer Lilith slams her fist into his face. Zybala groans in pain as he grabs Lilith's head and drives his forehead into hers. Both Zybala and Lilith's head start to trickle blood as Zybala collapses next to Lilith and starts chuckling~
Zybala: You know it, baby. Honestly, I don't know if I hate you or respect you. If you ever want to go another round, you know where to find me.
~Zybala slowly gets to his feet and offers a hand to Lilith, who slaps it away. She gets up under her own power and glares at Zybala~
Zybala: Just to let you know, your contract cookies are in your dressing room.
~Lilith nods her head happily, whilst touching her face and looking at the blood with a weird smile~
Lilith: I think this is the beginning of a BEAUTIFUL friendship… Zebra Bear.
~Zybala grins as he wipes away the blood from his forehead and walks away waving~
Smith: Interesting dynamic...
Hood: It's fucking weird.
Smith: I'd say those two might be made for one another...but having seen Twilight's 'bad side', I'm going to refrain.
Hood: Too late, you already said words.
Smith: I meant nothing by it, Sarah!
Hood: Over here trying to break up the greatest tag team in OCW...no doubt to help the DRAVERS. I know your ways, Smith.
Smith: Yea, right...anyway, it's time for our next match this evening as Scott Stevens looks to extend his trail of tears by decimating Great Scott.
Hood: Trail of tears, eh? 6/10
Smith: Let's head down to ringside!
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Singles Match
Scott Stevens (2-0) vs. Great Scott (1-4)
~The crowd is on their feet. They are READY for what’s to come. Several people in the crowd are doing THE GREAT SCOTT. What is THE GREAT SCOTT? Haven’t we been over this? Look. To save you guys the time I’ll simply state that THE GREAT SCOTT is whatever you want it to be…a series of uncoordinated, spontaneous, mildly comprehensive, asymmetrical movements. Too long? Didn’t fucking read? Fine. It’s the body language gibberish. Belvedere looks around, judgingly. THE GREAT SCOTT is so not within his desired wheelhouse. He looks like a man who enjoys a good foxtrot. He clears his throat, putting a prompt end to THE GREAT SCOTT~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~GREAT SCOTT COMES DOWN TO THE RING WITH HIS CHAMPIONSHIP BELT AND A BEAR WHO IS GREAT NAMED GREAT BEAR AND THEY ARE LISTENING TO THE WHOLE CROWD CHEER AND THEN THEY GET INTO THE RING AND THE BEAR DOES A COOL DANCE AND GREAT SCOTT IS VERY OVER~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…GREAT SCOTT
~The crowd is going wild…people are suddenly doing the GREAT SCOTT. We’re not sure how to describe it…they’re gyrating, throwing their arms around, running in place…basically breaking into sporadic, arbitrary dance moves. There’s no rhyme or reason…no method…it’s madness. The Bear runs toward the ropes…he flips over the top rope, landing on his feet. GREAT SCOTT throws the belt at the Bear…the BEAR catches the belt in his mouth and starts to moonwalk. The crowd goes WILD~
Smith: Great Scott!
Hood: Yes, I know. I heard Belvedere…what are you, deaf?
Smith: It’s just nice to see him out here.
Hood: He’s not the only Scott, you know. I learned this week there are MANY Scotts.
Smith: Well, duh
Belvedere: And, his 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: And there he is, Scott Stevens.
Hood: A Scott that was notably absent among the list of great scotts.
Smith: Perhaps he feels he needs to prove himself.
Hood: I did like the Scott Syren shout out. To quote the great Tony the Spider, “If you people only knew.”
Smith: A monster from another era. But this is the new era…an era in which Scott Stevens hopes to etch his name at the top of the OCW mountain!
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds. Scott Stevens stares, menacingly at Great Scott. Great Scott starts to look sad. The POMP of his entrance has faded. Now, reality~
Smith: A sad looking Great Scott.
Hood: Well, it’s time for him to go to work. To do his job.
Smith: Are you saying?
Hood: LAY DOWN YOU FUCKING JOBBER
~Great Scott shakes his head. The fans chant “GREAT SCOTT!” He paces back and forth. Scott Stevens watches his opponent’s internal strife~
Smith: A bit of cognitive dissonance here for Great Scott. He knows what he is…a fact he’s having trouble accepting.
Hood: You give the guy one win and he suddenly thinks he’s Mike fucking Best.
Smith: Everyone should have the opportunity to break free, Hood. Nobody should be forever shackled within a lane.
Hood: Try telling that to old people on the freeway. You want them in the left lane? Do ya?
~The fans continue cheering and chanting for Great Scott. He looks out at them, almost teary eyed. He lets out a deep, depressing sigh and heads toward the center of the ring. He drops to his knees and…LAYS DOWN. The fans boo. Scott Stevens laughs and marches over, placing a foot atop Scott’s chest. Scruff drops down for the pin~
Smith: No! Don’t give in, Scott!
Hood: There you go, DO YOUR FUCKING JOB
1!
2!
3!!
NOOO
Hood: What the fuck?
Smith: HE KICKED OUT! HE’S NOT GOING TO LAY DOWN!
Hood: FIRE THIS MAN
~Great Scott did, indeed, KICK OUT!! Scott Stevens stumbles back. He looks down, at first in disbelief. Great Scott kips up!!! He starts to stomp around, shaking his head…SCOTTING UP. Stevens seems bewildered, nonplussed…the fuck is this shit. He grabs Great Scott and spins him around. Great Scott points at Stevens…the fans yell “YOU!!!” Stevens brow furrows…he’s finding all of this insulting, confusing, and stupid at the same time~
Smith: Great Scott is in discovery mode! He’s beginning to realize who he is!
Hood: A fucking moron! That’s who! Beat his ass, Stevens!
Smith: I think this just became a LEGIT match!
~Stevens throws a punch. Scott blocks it!! Scott delivers three huge blows to Stevens head! He whips him off the ropes. Stevens flies across the ring, he bounces off the opposite ropes…Scott lifts his leg up and DRILLS Stevens with a huge leg drop!!! Stevens hits the mat, hard. Scott charges into the ropes, he bounces off and jumps HIGH in the air with the LEG DROP OF DEATH!! He comes crashing down…BUT STEVENS MOVES!!! Scott hits hard, reaching for his ass in pain. Stevens quickly returns to his feet, holding his jaw in pain. His eyes go from stunned to FURIOUS~
Smith: Scott Stevens with a look that says “you weren’t supposed to do that.”
Hood: Stevens has Lurrr on the docket. He doesn’t need to fuck around with a suddenly inspired Great Scott. This is fucking bullshit.
Smith: Hey! People need to earn wins around here, Hood.
Hood: Have you NOT been watching the last several weeks? We give wins out like candy on Halloween.
~Stevens snares a handful of light, fluffy mullet and yanks Scott to his feet. He drills him across the face with a right hand! Scott’s knees wobble. Outside we see THE BEAR doing a cartwheel. Stevens lifts a knee into the face of Great Scott! Great Scott stumbles into the ropes, leaning over the top. Stevens walks up and hooks Scott in a Full Nelson. He tosses Great Scott over and drops him on his head with a Dragon Suplex. He refuses to bridge for the pin…Great Scott MUST pay~
Smith: I have a feeling the night is about to become dark and full of terror for Great Scott.
Hood: Nice Lord of the Ring pun.
Smith: IT’S GAME OF THRONES.
Hood: Whoa, geez…calm down, man. Both shows have midgets…it’s basically the same shit.
~Stevens wraps both hands around Scott’s neck, chocking the life out of the FAN FAVORITE. In our minds, we envision all forty cardboard stories of Scott’s home collapsing to the ground. Scott’s eyes start to roll into the back of his head. Scruff drops down, checking his arm, to see if he’s still conscious. Why is he not forcing Stevens to cease the choke? Perhaps the rules are just different for JOB GUYS. Stevens releases the choke under his own volition. He pops up and pulls Scott back to his feet, refusing to allow Scruff to properly check Scott’s vitals. He books Great Scott in the gut, hooks him around the waist and drives him into the mat with a HUGE jackknife powerbomb!!! Scott’s body goes stiff…he remains down, on his back~
Smith: That may have injured Great Scott’s back. This is becoming too much.
Hood: You step out of your lane and you get punished. Fuck Great Scott.
Smith: He’s simply a man looking to ascend, live the American Dream!
Hood: The American Dream isn’t for people like Great Scott. It’s reserved for gentlemen like CMF!
~Stevens places his foot on Scott’s chest. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
NO
Smith: What a jerk!
Hood: The lesson continues! Welcome to HOW TO JOB 101, Great Scott.
~Stevens removes his foot just before the three to a HUGE chorus of boos from the fans. Even the BEAR stops dancing. It looks up at Stevens with it’s soulless, black eyes…despite their cavern nature, we still find sadness and despair. Stevens plants his foot right into Scott’s windpipe. Scott chokes and kicks his legs. NOW Scruff rushes over, getting him to stop. Stevens, angry, throws Scruff to the side. Scruff this the mat, hard. He remains down for a while. Scott kicks his legs…the kicking slows…it ceases. He may be dead~
Smith: I fear Great Scott might be finished.
Hood: Good…get his noncompliant ass out of here. Along with that fucking bear!
Smith: What a tragic night for all the hopefuls out there. OCW and Scott Stevens are informing everyone that if you aren’t handpicked by certain individuals as potential stars then you have no hope of breaking through. SAD
Hood: It’s called quality control, Smith. Legit organizations apply it.
~Stevens WON’T RELENT. He truly is trying to kill Great Scott. His back is facing the entrance. The crowd POPS! From behind we see a man sprinting to the ring!~
Smith: Look!! It’s…LURRR!
Hood: What’s he doing here? I thought he needed permission before leaving shady acres assisted living community.
Smith: RUDE thing to say about the Original ICON!
~The fans are going wild!! Lurrr hits the ring!! The OCW Arena may as well be shaking. Stevens isn’t stupid…he realizes the mood has changed. He looks to his right…then to his left. He removes his foot from Scott’s red, depressed windpipe. He turns around and EATS THE WAKE UP CALL!!!! Stevens stumbles backward, stepping over Scott. He’s about to topple over…but the ropes keep him up. He bounces off the ropes…Lurrr lunges forward (also stepping over Scott) to deliver A SECOND WAKE UP CALL the crowd goes OHHHHHH when he hits this one!!! Stevens falls face first. His head hitting Scott in the abdomen. Scott sits up…he coughs, he rubs his throat…a spatter of blood hits the mat between his legs. Lurrr slaps him on the back, trying to wake him up~
Smith: Lurrr just delivered TWO Wake Up Calls to Stevens!
Hood: What the fuck is he doing?! Is he trying to pearl harbor the build for his match at Redacted? Or, well, potential match?
Smith: I don’t think he cares, Hood. He wants to get payback on Stevens for choking him out at NSFW!
Hood: Don’t forget the hair part!
~Great Scott looks over to find Stevens down. He looks up at Lurrr…his eyes are wide and full of THE AMERICAN DREAM. Lurrr motions for Scott to get to work. He heads over and revives Scruff. Scruff looks at Lurrr like “What are you doing here?” Lurrr rubs him atop the head before hopping through the ropes. Great Scott rises to his feet. Stevens, amazingly does the same…although Stevens is clearly on another planet (mentally). Scott leaps up, wraps his legs around Stevens’ head and takes him over with a Frankensteiner!!! He hooks both legs for the pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings! The crowd goes wild~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…GREAT SCOTT!!!!!
Smith: What the?1
Hood: FUCK YOU…FUCK ALL OF YOU
Smith: Great Scott just pinned Scott Stevens!
Hood: With the aid of TWO superkicks from Lurrr! Lurrr FUCKED Scott Stevens…NOT LITERALLY.
Smith: I can’t believe it!
~Great Scott staggers to his feet. Stevens, who kicked out right after three, is already scrambling. Lurrr looks on, stunned that Stevens is apparently recovered from TWO Wake up Calls. Scott begins to celebrate. He turns around and walks right into a HUGE lariat from Stevens!!!! Scott turns inside out. Stevens drops to his knees and starts to punch and choke Scott. The fans BOO~
Smith: What a poor sport!
Hood: Great Scott needs to be taught a lesson.
Smith: Why doesn’t he direct his attention to Lurrr? Lurrr cost him the match!
Hood: Because, reasons.
~As if on cue, Lurrr slides into the ring. He fishhooks Stevens from behind, dragging him off of Scott. Stevens kicks his legs…he reaches up, fighting Lurrr’s hands away. He tries getting up, but Lurrr hits the ropes and dives forward, planting both knees into Stevens chest, driving him into the mat. A belt comes flying into view…it’s Scott’s championship belt! The bear has tossed it into the ring. Great Scott rolls out of the ring, in the background. Lurrr catches the belt…he waits for Stevens to rise. Stevens does and Lurrr drills him in the head with Scott’s belt!!! Stevens hits the mat hard! He rolls over…Lurrr starts to whip and beat him with the belt. Stevens reacts with violent spasms. The beast from Texas struggles to his feet, against all odds. Lurrr throws him the belt and SUPERKICKS IT into Stevens’ face!!! Scott Stevens collapses to the mat, unconscious~
Smith: A third WAKE UP CALL! This time with a belt slamming into the face of Scott Stevens!
Hood: I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take three Wake Up Calls before.
Smith: Stevens is one tough guy.
~Lurrr is mockingly standing over Stevens as the crowd is chanting ICON over and over in unison. Lurrr looks out to the crowd and gives that familiar evil grin we have been so accustomed to seeing. Lurrr aggressively calls for a mic from outside the ring. Lurrr starts yelling “Let’s go give me a fucking mic!!!” Belvedere tries to hurry to get around to the side of the ring Lurrr is yelling from, obviously very nervous. Lurrr rips the mic from Belvedere and motions for him to go away~
Lurrr: This guy who lays beneath me right now said last week that he was disappointed…Disappointed how easy it was to sneak up on the best in this company. I have a question for you now Scott Stevens……
~Lurrr lays on the mat with the mic up close to his mouth touching nose to nose to a busted open Stevens~
Lurrr: Are you fucking disappointed now??? Am I the Old Yeller dog that you referenced to last week?? Looks like I am the one doing the fucking hunting now doesn’t it??
~The crowd cheers. Lurrr is talking so aggressively into the mic that spit is flying out of his mouth. He stays down on the mat staring at Stevens~
Lurrr: You just think you can come into my company, the company that I built from the ground up and sneak attack me without any repercussions? You think I should care who Scott Stevens is? You think you decimated a legend?
~Lurrr pops back up to his feet~
Lurrr: Boy I am still standing so in my book that doesn’t count as a “decimated legend.” Hell you’re from Texas son, just like me, so you should know to always expect a fight on your hands after a sneak attack. In fact, you’re a fucking freak who has some weird disgusting fetish with hair. I am embarrassed to say you hail from the great State of Texas like myself. You are an embarrassment to my home state.
~Lurrr starts slapping Stevens on the head over and over again. The crowd begins to cheer in agreement of Lurrr’s freak assessment of Stevens~
Lurrr: The honest truth is the only real Texan in this company is me and it will always be me!!! So here’s how this is gonna work. You are going to continue to lay there and bleed while I go ahead and tell the jackoff’s in the back that in two weeks in fucking North Korea at Redacted I want a match booked against this freak Scott Stevens in a Texas Style Barbed-Wired Match!!!!!
~The crowd goes crazy as they know this will bring more blood to the ring!!~
Lurrr: You wanna act like a fucking freak then I am going to put you in the most nightmarish match scenario possible. Come two weeks from now you’re going to find out who the real mother fucking Texan is!!!! Now hit my damn music….
Smith: Strong words from the OCW Original Icon!!
Hood: Scott Stevens got the jump on Lurrr at NSFW. Now, he could be in for some payback.
~Lurrr throws the mic down and exits the ring.~
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
~Lurrr heads for the ramp. He walks past Great Scott and THE DANCING BEAR. They try to flag him down but his pace quickens. He didn't do this for them. He did this to fuck Scott Stevens~
Smith: Lurrr enables Great Scott to give Scott Stevens his first defeat in OCW.
Hood: Once Stevens wakes up...he's going to be pissed.
Smith: That match, which I'm being told has been confirmed by Mike Zybala, will be violent.
~We cut backstage where Marcus Welsh is very busy. Greg walks in, carrying Panera Bread~
Marcus Welsh: Alright! I’m famished.
~Welsh snares a salad~
Greg: How are travel arrangements coming along?
Marcus Welsh: Splendid. I’ve been on the phone with North Korean officials all day long. They are very excited for the event. It’s such a great country, Greg. Very open minded.
~Welsh looks the camera straight on as he delivers this message. He returns his focus to Greg~
Marcus Welsh: We’ll be flying into Beijing. From there one of the top tour agencies will be waiting for us with a couple of chartered busses, top of the line. They’ll drive us into the country and to our hotel accommodations, which I’m told are five star.
Greg: Eek! I’m so excited!
Marcus Welsh: You’re going to sit this one out, Greg. Things could get a little…tricky.
Greg: Listen…I know he’s, not your favorite person in the world. But perhaps you call this off? It seems a little drastic.
~Welsh chews on some salad, staring blankly at nothing in particular~
Greg: It’s just…what if something bad, like, really bad happens?
~Welsh continues to stare off~
Marcus Welsh: Yea, I don’t know.
~A softer side begins to emerge? Perhaps. Welsh goes after another bite of salad~
Marcus Welsh: I’ll consider calling off the plan. We’ll see what happens with Langston later tonight.
Greg: Yay!
~Welsh continues to devour his salad. We cut back to the announce table~
Smith: Sounds like travel arrangements have been made.
Hood: Good…I was wondering how the hell we’d get over there.
Smith: Welsh has cut a deal with top officials in North Korea. They are well aware of the event and are, I’m told, extremely excited for their nation to be broadcast on live television, hosting an event of this magnitude.
Hood: Well, it is a great country. Very open minded.
Smith: Yes, it is.
~Awkward pause~
Smith: Anyway, moving along! Let's cut to footage that took place moments ago...
~As we cut to backstage we see Scott Stevens coming through the curtain holding his ribs. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he notices in front of him a camera man and a producer chatting about something. The Texan barrels his way towards the two~
Scott Stevens: Take a hike!
~Stevens says to the producer as he pushes him to the ground and motions for the camera man to get ready~
Scott Stevens: You see that out there?!?!?!?
~Stevens asks as he holds his ribs as it hurts to breathe~
Scott Stevens: That’s the Lurrr everyone has been talking about!
~Stevens says with a smile as he places his hands on his knees to catch a breath~
Scott Stevens: That’s the fire and passion of the great Lurrr legend that I’ve heard so much about instead of the pathetic washed up old man I had my way with at Not Safe For Work.
~Stevens says as he leans up~
Scott Stevens: However, your five minutes of resurrected fame is up Lurrr.
~Stevens says heavily breathing~
Scott Stevens: You think that attack, costing me that match is going to throw me from my goal?
~Stevens asks as he points to himself and shakes his head~
Scott Stevens: Nope. All the more motivation for me to finish what I started over a month ago!
~Stevens says sternly~
Scott Stevens: Since you're begging me to take you behind the barn and put a bullet in you I have no issues turning your Hall of Fame wing into a living memorial on July 29th at Redacted.
~Stevens says before heading out~
Smith: Scott Stevens remains focused. You have to give it to him...most men might be shaken by what happened earlier, but not Stevens.
Hood: Great Scott is a fucking weirdo. That loss, while ridiculous, changes nothing. Stevens has Lurrr in two weeks...if he defeats Lurrr then he's in just about every title picture imaginable.
Smith: Indeed. Anyway, moving along we have the #1 Contender for the Savage Championship, Logan back in action as he takes on Skittlez!
|
|
Singles Match
Logan (7-1) vs. Skittlez (0-1)
~These fans are hungry for some more action! A few of them are eating HUNGRY MAN dinners. A strange metaphor, I suppose. But, hey, they are hungry. Belvedere, perhaps feeling sympathy for their innards, clears his throat, causing these fans to toss their Hungry Man meals aside and jump up and down, eager to have their hunger abated~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~The opening rifts of Vanilla Ice's signature tune "Ice Ice Baby" begin to echo throughout the arena. The OCW fans can't help but start swaying in dance to the annoyingly catchy rhythm~
Belvedere: Making his way to the ring, from The Mean Streets ... weighing in at one hundred eighty three pounds .... SKITTLEZ!
~Skittlez dances his way onto the stage, doing a very poor moonwalk that is mostly him tripping over his own feet. The wannabe rapper is dressed in baggy clothes, gold chains, a backwards baseball cap and whatever pair of sneaks is in style that week. He bounces his way to the ring in a goofy dance and nearly falls through the ropes on his way into the ring. He manages to catch himself after the stumble and proceeds to flash "Word To Ya Motha" signs looking about as intimidating as a scrawny white boy with oversized clothing can look~
Smith: Skittlez returning to action!
Hood: If word gets to his motha then I’m sure his motha is gonna be saying some prayerz.
Smith: He does face a very angry man.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~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. Crystal Sharpe comes out, standing alongside. 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. Crystal strides behind him, keeping a fair amount of distance as to not ‘hog his spotlight’. 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. Crystal looks up with love in her eyes, clapping. 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 back in action…this time with Crystal in his corner.
Hood: I told you…couple of the year!
Smith: I just hope she treats him the way he treated her.
Hood: You kidding me? Crystal already took one beating tonight. She doesn’t need another!
~The bell rings. Belvedere exits~
Smith: Can Skittlez compete with Logan?
Hood: Can a fly take on a swatter?
Smith: Well, we know where you stand.
~Skittlez approaches Logan. Logan looks down at Skittlez like “what the fuck is this shit?” Skittlez extends his hand. Logan, out of curiosity, does the same. Skittlez begins to give Logan an overly complicated, gangsta handshake~
Smith: What on Earth?
Hood: I’ve never seen that handshake in my life, Smith. I think it’s a method of greeting within Skittlez gang.
Smith: Skittlez is in a gang?
Hood: Yes, it’s a mixture of bloods and crips. He calls it the blips.
~Logan grows tired of this complicated handshake. So he takes over, grabs one of Skittlez fingers and snaps it! The fans groan. Skittlez yells out in pain. Logan grabs the ululating wangsta and throws him through the ropes. He lands near Crystal. She stands over him. Logan yells out “MAKE YOURSELF USEFUL!”~
Smith: Oh come on!
Hood: I know, that handshake…woof
Smith: No! He’s demanding that Crystal step in and hurt Skittlez! Not only is that cheating…but he refused to help her earlier on!
Hood: Skittlez is obviously a bigger threat than The Road Dawg.
~Sharpe is tentative. Logan leans over the ropes, glaring down at her. She throws a few kicks at Skittlez, nailing him in the ribs. Scruff tries to protest…but Logan pulls him away from the ropes. The fans BOO. While distracting Scruff, Logan continues to aggressively point at Crystal, demanding she continue to hurt Skittlez. She drops to her knees and pummels Skittlez in the face with forearm shots~
Smith: This is gross.
Hood: This is LOVE
Smith: That woman is so tangled, emotionally.
Hood: Hey, just because you’re middle aged and alone doesn’t mean you have to shit all over true love.
~Scruff tries to break away. Sharpe continues drilling Skittlez in the head. Scruff finally threatens a DQ. Logan throws his hands up. He motions for Crystal to stop. She does, looking relieved that her role has been reduced. Scruff turns around to being a count. Logan marches past him, hopping through the ropes and grabbing Skittlez by the back of the neck, tossing him into the ring. He slides in and goes for a pin. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: Some heart left in Skittlez!
Hood: Making the Blips proud.
Smith: I doubt that’s a legit gang.
Hood: If you’re lucky, you’ll never personally discover they exist.
~Logan gets to his knees and pummels Skittlez in the head. He stops and grabs Skittlez face, gouging and ripping at his skin. Skittles yells out, kicking his legs. Scruff orders a release. Logan stands, holding his arms up. He turns his back to Skittlez, posing for the fans. They boo~
Smith: This man disgusts me.
Hood: You have shit taste.
Smith: I hope Langston puts him in his place at Redacted.
Hood: Not going to happen. The era of LOGAN is upon us, Smith.
~Skittlez is on all fours. He notices Logan’s back. He crawls up and schoolboys Logan over!!! The crowd leaps to their feet!! Scruff dives in, making the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Whoa!
Hood: That would have been fucking disastrous.
~Logan sits up like “what the fuck?!” He gets to his feet, full of fury. Skittlez is on one knee. Logan reaches for him…Skittlez takes him over with a Small Package!!! Scruff slides in, making the count! The fans are on their feet, counting along~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: AGAIN!
Hood: Wake the fuck up, Logan!
Smith: Can he switch gears…refocus, or will he suffer the most embarrassing loss of his OCW career?
Hood: This is all Crystal’s fault.
~Logan pops to his feet, grabbing Skittlez by the hair. He says some very MEAN things to Skittlez. Poor Skittlez can only look up at Logan, petrified. Logan whips him into the ropes. Skittlez bounces off…Logan goes for a leap frog...Skittlez hops, for some reason….in doing so, the top of his head nails Logan right in the balls!! Logan falls to the mat, huddled over. Skittlez stops…the fans chant “YES!” He looks around with legit belief in his eyes~
Smith: Not quite the offense he was…perhaps looking for, but it worked.
Hood: If Logan loses this match then I may protest.
Smith: Oh really?
Hood: Yes, I will cease shilling Alice’s mustard.
Smith: Oh wow, some protest.
~Skittlez stands over Logan, unsure of what to do next. The fans yell and urge him to do something. He runs his hands through his hair, scratching the back of his neck. Finally, something clicks~
Smith: Pretty obvious that Skittlez isn’t used to being in this position.
Hood: How can a person this fucking useless survive twenty, thirty years on this planet.
Smith: Because, in America, we take care of each other.
Hood: Great…and look what that gets us…Skittles and The Blips.
~Skittlez reaches down, grabbing Logan’s arm. He appears to be looking for some type of armbar. It’s pretty obvious pretty fast he’s never applied an armbar in his life…he’s only seen them on tv. He messes around with Logan’s arm, trying to work out the impasse. Logan, feeling what’s going on, slings his arm backward, sending Skittles tumbling to the mat. A very angry Logan gets to his feet~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: The guy can’t even pull on an arm properly!
Smith: So he’s still learning…give the guy a break.
Hood: No thanks, I’ll leave that up to Logan.
~Skittlez looks up, holding his hands toward Logan, asking for mercy. Logan grabs him by the hair and pulls him up. He reaches back and delivers a vicious, straight right hand into Skittlez nose. Skittlez is staggered…he’s loopy. Blood starts to rush from both nostrils. Logan spins him around, locks him in a sleeper, leaps forward and drops him with THE CONNECTOR!!! Skittlez bumps, awkwardly. But, he’s down. Logan makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LOGAN!!!!!
Smith: Well…it took longer than he probably hoped but Logan won.
Hood: Whew…crisis averted.
Smith: Now Logan can set his sights on…OH COME ON
~Logan begins pummeling Skittlez while he’s down. Crystal, standing on the steps, ready to enter, pauses. The fans BOOO. Security rushes to the ring, prying Logan off of Skittlez. Sharpe holds the ropes open, silently urging Logan to exit. Logan’s crazed eye looks at all the security members, on the verge of attacking them. But…he thinks better of it and steps through the opening provided by his softer half. They make their way up the ramp as officials tend to Skittlez~
Smith: A vile man. He will face the toughest task of his career in two weeks at Redacted against Vincent Langston.
Hood: If anybody could take Langston down…it’s Logan.
Smith: That remains to be seen.
~We cut back stage to see the Paradigm Champion, The Money of The eMpire, and all around Best Boy, Cecilworth M! Farthington! He is holding a large box in his arms and standing outside of the office of Mike Zybala. Lilith's name has been scrubbed from the door and only bares Zybala's. Like last week, Farthington doesn't knock he and opens the door and storms in. Zybala is sitting at his desk doing some paperwork. The OCW owner looks up and gives Farthington a questioning look, but the Best Boy ignores him. Farthington looks around the office and sitting in its nest made of hundred dollar bills on a couch against the wall, sits THE DUCK!! It was preening its feathers but also looks up as Farthington enters the room. They share a look of longing before CM!F turns his attention back to Zybala~
Zybala: Mr. Farthington! What a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?
Farthington: You? You can do nothing you duck thieving rabble rouser! I have come to prove my admiration for The Duck!
~Without a word more, Farthington opens the box and pulls out a larger, more glorious nest made of hundreds, but also has feathers and shiny strands of string woven into the nest. Both Zybala and The Duck look at this new nest with curiosity. Farthington stands there holding the best with a smug and prideful look on his face~
Farthington: You thought your nest was the bee's knees but the only B’s knees that matter in OCW are Mike’s! But I am not here to talk about bees or knees, so feast your cretinous eyes upon this, Mr. Zybala! Not only is this nest made of MORE hundred dollar bills, but I have hand woven strands of pure gold into it!
Zybala: Impressive. And the feathers?
Farthington: I'm glad you asked. I'm sure that you are aware of the Turkey that receives a Presidential Pardon on Thanksgiving?
~Zybala looks confused but it slowly dawns on him. He nods for Farthington to continue~
Farthington: As any true expert of ducks can tell you, the turkey and the duck are mortal enemies.
Zybala: That is basic knowledge they teach in school.
Farthington: So I figured what other way to prove my love for the Duck than to slay what some simple people would consider it’s mortal enemy. See, that turkey, it’s was a poor waiting for a handout from the President of America, I want to say… Wilson. Is it Wilson? It matters not! This duck though, this glorious, majestic beast. It is a quality fowl. So it knows by slaying the poultry equivalent of a poor and bring the spoils, I am expressing my stature and that stature is oozing gentlemanliness and classiosity.
~Both Zybala and The Duck look at Farthington as his mastery of the English language and giving explanations astounds them. The Duck then looks at the nest in Farthington's hands and down at its own. It then turns to look at Zybala, who gives a gentle nod of his head. The Duck stands and slowly spreads its wings. It turns towards Farthington and in a movement of grace and majesty, flies at the Paradigm Champion. Farthington stares in awe as The Duck daintily lands in the new nestle. The Duck nestles in its new nest and lovingly gazes up at Farthington, who gives a gaze of admiration of his own. Farthington then looks up at smugly smirks at Zybala~
Farthington: Looks like you ducked up Mr. Zybala. Ducked up real bad!
~Zybala gives Farthington an odd look before breaking into a smile and claps for a brief moment. Farthington looks confused at the actions of the owner~
Zybala: Well done, Mr. Farthington. You have passed the test to prove your worthiness. Marcus wasn't able to comprehend the true magnitude The Duck. That's why it kept flying away every time Welsh tried to give you The Duck, or tried rigging a contest to "award" you it. A Duck this nice simply cannot be given away like a mere bauble. It must be earned. The person must be worthy. All your trials and tribulations thus far have been leading to this moment. Just as you have chosen The Duck; The Duck has chosen you! Go forth and enjoy the nicest Duck in existence! And when you are done with the Gentlemen Games with Biff, I look forward to having that money fight with you. Enjoy the rest of your evening.
~CM!F staggers out of Zybala’s office in a little bit of a stunned daze, eyes locked in sweet, sweet admiration with THE DUCK. As the moments pass and we all sink in this wonderful moment in OCW we are left with a big question from The Gentleman’s Gentleman~
Farthington: What do ducks even eat?
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: And Farthington has finally earned THE DUCK
Hood: It's hard to be humble if your the eMpire's money man. He's topped the Heat Check several weeks in a row. He's undefeated in the gentleman games...and now, he's got THE DUCK.
Smith: Farthington is on a roll. He puts his undefeated streak in gentleman games on the line tonight against Bifford in Paper, Rock, Scissors.
Hood: I advised him to go with rock.
Smith: Well now he can't go with Rock!
Hood: Or...can he?
Smith: The mind games of Paper, Rock, Scissors will take place later tonight! Next up, we will have the other half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Sarah Twilight finish what began awhile back against the fading Chastity Temple.
|
|
Singles Match
Sarah Twilight © (4-0) vs. Chastity Temple (5-3)
Hood: Up next we have a match that I have personally been looking forward to for quite some time as Chastity Temple squares off with one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Sarah Twilight.
Smith: Remember it was several weeks ago when Chastity slapped Sarah across the face. We know The Mistress of Mischief hasn't forgotten about that.
Hood: This slump that Chastity has been a victim of ever since NSFW she has largely blamed on Sarah, claiming that she was hexed by the tag champion.
Smith: After what Twilight did to Kitty Petrova last week, I don't think Chastity needs to be worried about any hexes. She'd better worry about the vicious woman she's about to tangle with.
Belvedere: The following contest is scheduled for one fall ... Introducing first from Topeka, Kansas weighing in at one hundred and eight pounds .... she is CHASTITY TEMPLE!!
~The poppy beat of Britney Spears' "Oops!... I Did it Again" fills the arena as the Technical Virgin known as Chastity Temple makes her way out. She makes the sign of the cross before sashaying toward the ring, hips swinging underneath her short plaid skirt. She pauses to berate any male fans gawking at her as well as any female ones she thinks look slutty, oblivious to the fact she herself is dressed in a skimpy schoolgirl uniform. Chastity slides into the ring and climbs to the second turnbuckle, making the sign of the cross again before sneering at all the sinners in the crowd. ~
Belvedere: And her opponent ...
~The lights go out as a spotlight centers on stage. Piano chords begin a haunting melody, accompanied by heavy drum beats. The crowd begins to boo MASSIVELY as the video wall displays the words THE ONLY ONE.~
Belvedere: Making her way to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, and weighing in at one hundred forty four pounds, she is one half of the reigning OCW Tag Team Champions "The Mistress of Mischief" SARAH TWILIGHT!!!
~Pyros shoot up from both sides of the entrance ramp as our melody finally kicks into guitar. "The Only One" by Evanescence continues to play as Sarah finally walks out onto the stage holding her championship over her shoulder, eyes straight ahead staring at Chastity Temple. She walks toward the ring, ignoring her usual gloating with her half of the Tag Championships and instead remains completely locked onto Chastity. ~
Hood: Man that's scary. She hasn't taken her eyes off of Chastity Temple the entire time.
Smith: I don't have a good feeling about this.
~Chastity looks a bit nervous as she stands in her corner. Sarah enters the ring, handing her championship off to Gruff and never once blinks as she remains laser focused on Temple. The bell rings and Sarah advances toward Chastity who quickly hops out of the ring. ~
Hood: Smart move, she clearly wants no part of an angry Sarah Twilight.
Smith: But Twilight is in pursuit!
~Sarah hops down out of the ring after Chastity and gives chase. The smaller Chastity a bit faster than Sarah and manages to avoid her, lapping the ring a few times as Gruff remains lenient, opting not to immediately start a ten count on the women. Eventually, Temple gets enough distance between herself and Sarah that she heads over behind the timekeeper's area and retrieves something. ~
Smith: What is Chastity up to?
Hood: I have no idea but she'd better figure it out quickly because here comes Sarah!
~Sarah rounds the corner making a beeline for Chastity when she is suddenly ... doused with a bucket of water. Chastity looks pleased with herself. Sarah stops in her tracks to even comprehend what the hell just happened. Chastity taunts the crowd, commenting on how intelligent she is.~
Smith: No Chastity, that is NOT a smart move. All she's done is further aggravate an already irate Sarah Twilight!
Hood: I ... I think she expected Sarah to melt or something. This isn't the Wizard of Oz, honey.
Smith: You gotta be kidding me? I hope that wasn't her entire plan!
~Chastity finally turns back from the crowd and nearly jumps out of her own skin. Shocked to find Sarah standing there, seething as the water drips from her. Chastity had indeed expected things to work like a Hollywood movie and thought Sarah being a witch would simply ... melt. Chastity makes a run for it again but this time she is caught as Sarah grabs a handful of her hair and YANKS her back towards the ring. Twilight forces Temple back into the ring and follows in quickly, mouting Chastity and begins delivering a flurry of punches to Temple's face. ~
Hood: It's really a shame to see how far Chastity has fallen these days. This was exactly what she needed to avoid. Sarah Twilight has her trapped and this is where Twilight is the most dangerous.
Smith: This is a beating, plain and simple.
Hood: This is how things starts out with Petrova ... and we know how that turned out.
~Sarah finally relents on the punches and hauls Chastity to her feet, locking her head up and looking out among the sheep who are mostly booing. ~
Smith: Looking to end it early, she's got Chastity up ... Twilight Zo- NO!!
~Chastity out of desperation reached a hand up and raked her nails across Sarah's eyes preventing the maneuver. Sarah lets go of Chastity and holds her eyes, trying to regain her vision. ~
Hood: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. Chastity avoided disaster right there!
Smith: She'd better capitalize while she can.
Hood: Can this be her opportunity to turn things around?
~The crowd starts cheering Chastity on. Despite their dislike of her hypocrisy, she was definitely the lessor of two evils right now. Temple regains her composure after the ground and pound flurry she'd been subjected to and starts feeding off of the crowd, growing in confidence. ~
Smith: She'd better not waste any more time. This is the only opprtunity she has. She needs to stay on Twilight!
Hood: She may not have her bible this week but the crowd is certainly lighting a fire under her incredibly tight, toned ass!
Smith: You disgust me.
~With Sarah unable to see and the crowd firmly behind her, Chastity uses everything she has and SMMMMACKKKKKK! She slaps Sarah across the face. Sarah stumbles back and swings a wild punch at nothing, still trying to gain her vision. The crowd roars and Chastity sends ANOTHER SLAP across Sarah's face.~
Smith: Chastity Temple is indeed fired up but she'd better do something else, and fast!
Hood: Are you kidding me? This is hot! I want more of this action.
~Chastity continues to grow with confidence as she now grabs a handful of Sarah's red hair and rapidly SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! She fires off the slaps one after another in retalition for the vicious flurry of punches she'd endured earlier. After the last Slap, still with a handful of Sarah's hair Chastity ROCKS her with a Jawbreaker. The Mistress of Mischief sent crashing into the canvas. ~
Smith: Could this be it? Can Chastity Temple come out of her slump?!
Hood: I can't believe it, she has Twilight rocked. Pin her Chastity! PIN HER!
Smith: What the hell is she doing?
~Instead of going for the cover, Chastity reaches into the breast of her tied off school girl shirt and removes a small pocket bible. She holds it up high and incredibly the crowd again cheers.~
Hood: She DOES have another bible!
Smith: But what is she doing? She should be covering Twilight, this might be her only chance!
Hood: I don't know what she's thinking.
~Chastity opens the good book and looks down at Sarah, screaming at her at first.~
Chastity Temple: BE GONE DEMON! BE GONE FROM HER IN THE NAME OF OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS CHRIST!
Hood: Is this an exorcism?
Smith: Oh brother, just when I thought I'd seen everything.
Hood: I really have to commend Chastity here. So selfless, trying to do the right thing.
Smith: Do you hear yourself right now?
Hood: Yeah, what's the problem?
Smith: Nevermind.
~Chastity kneels down beside Sarah as she continues to carry out her impromptu exorcism. ~
Chastity Temple: Leave her, oh you unclean spirit. Depart from this .... beautiful, lovely woman ...
~Chastity now gentle runs a hand through Sarah's red locks of hair, leaning closer to her. ~
Hood: OH.MY.GOD! We're gonna see some hot lesbian action! YES!
Smith: Chastity had better hope that Lilith isn't watching this right now.
Hood: A threeway! Even better!
~Chastity continues to compliment Sarah, basically abandoning her excorcism at this point and looks like she's almost tempted to lean in for a kiss. But it never happens as Sarah DECKS her right in the mouth! Chastity tumbles back and Sarah pops to her feet, grabbing both of Chastity's arms and DRAGGING her to the turnbuckle. She slides under the ropes and pulls Chastity's arms back behind the turnbuckle applying SPELLBOUND using the turnbuckle! Chastity SCREAMS in agony as Gruff begins his five count. The crowd BOOS like mad.~
Smith: And that is the end of that! Temple is in a world of trouble now.
Hood: I don't know why Twilight is so pissed off right now, Chastity just wanted a kiss.
Smith: Clearly Twilight isn't interested.
~Sarah breaks the hold at four, rolling back into the ring. Chastity cradles her arms in front of her in despair. Sarah is completely incensed as she stares a hole through Chastity as she lays against the turnbuckle.~
Smith: Uh oh ... we've seen this look before!
Hood: Get out of there Chastity! Run!
Smith: I don't think she's capable of going anywhere right now.
~Sarah marches to the corner and grabs the top rope with both hands for leverage and with Chastity's head against the turnbuckle she DRIVES her knee into Chastity's face over and over again. Gruff again begins a five count.~
1
2
3
4
~Sarah ceases at four, walks a few steps and turns around going right back to the turnbuckle and again DRIVES her knee several times into Chastity's face~
Smith: Stop thhe match! This is uncalled for come on!
Hood: At least it's not a concrete wall behind her head.
Smith: Does that really matter?
Hood: I'm pretty sure it does.
~The crowd is booing MASSIVELY as Chastity is just being pinballed between Sarah's knee and the turnbuckle. Gruff issues another count, HEAVILY warning Sarah who finally halts again at four and a half. Chastity slumps down, motionless. Her face busted open as she wears a crimson mask. ~
Smith: There is no way Chastity Temple is continuing after that.
Hood: Gruff is checking on her now. Twilight just standing there. never taking her eyes off of Temple. Cold ... callous. Man this bitch is frightening.
~Gruff checks on Chastity who is completely unresponsive. He leans out, saying something to Belvedere and calls for the bell. ~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, Chastity Temple is unable to continue this match ... therefore your winner as a result of a knockout ... "The Mistress of Mischief" SARAH TWILIGHT!!!
"The Only One plays once again and the crowd is BEYOND the point of simply booing Sarah as the start throwing trash into the ring. Sarah ignores every bit of it, collecting her tag championship as she walks to the back, not having a single care in the world for what she'd just done to Chastity. Medical staff make their way to the ring to tend to Chastity Temple.~
Smith: Something needs to be done here. This is two weeks in a row that Sarah Twilight has caused severe damage to another competitor. This wasn't about winning a match. She blatantly set out to HURT Chastity Temple.
Hood: Whatever switch flipped inside of Sarah Twilight's head has set her off on a different level of brutality and it spells trouble for anyone and everyone who gets into the ring with her.
Smith: The fact is, we can't have someone out here trying to end people's careers and cause possibly permanent damage to them. That's not what we're here for.
Hood: I don't know that Chastity Temple got it quite as badly as Kitty Petrova but I'd have to agree. I think Twilight set out to permanently injure her.
Smith: Well somebody needs to do something about this. It's creating an unsafe work environment. Quite frankly it makes me sick!
Smith: Ed Houston's ROCKET LOAF...for sale in places.
Hood: Yes, I haven't seen it yet but rest assured if and when I do I will walk by it knowing what it is.
Smith: Ringing endorsement! Anyway, it's time for our next match as Duce Jones, the man without a partner, currently, is set to take on Kip Young! To ringside we go!
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Singles Match
Duce Jones (5-3) vs. Kip Young (1-3)
~Kip Young stands in the ring, throwing punches and kicks into the air. He’s clearly staying warm and focused for his upcoming match. Judging by the look in his eye you’d swear he has NO IDEA about what NO ENTRANCE means. Belvedere clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Kip Young!
~Kip throws an arm into the air for a very, very mild reaction. He goes back to shadow boxing, trying to stay focused~
Smith: Kip Young back in action.
Hood: Do I have time to go to the bathroom?
Smith: NO
Hood: Fuckin coffee.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The fans are buzzing, but soon turn to a mixed reaction as a voice begins to speak through the PA system~
“And the whole world loves it when you sing the blues… Da. Da.. Da. Da. Da.. Da….”
~The opening sounds of “Godspeed” by Don Trip begins to play as the lights inside of the arena turn a crimson hue color, soon the stage filling up with smoke. After about a minute of waiting, Duce Jones slowly emerge through the fog, mixed emotions coming from the crowd.~
Belvedere: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds! From Memphis, Tennessee… DUCE JONES!
~Slowly making his way towards the ring, Jones ignores the cheers and jeers that the fans are giving, as he soon makes it to ringside. Climbing onto the apron, Duce goes to the corner to his right, climbing onto the second rope and peering out into the crowd. Finally done, he jumps over the top rope, landing inside of the ring and removes his hooded vest as he prepares for action~
Smith: Duce Jones in singles competition…a much better situation than when we last saw the second generation competitor.
Hood: Yea man he legit had ROSE on the ropes until Twilight did her thing with that chair.
Smith: Yep, Duce looked on the verge of earning those tag titles all by himself. Thankfully, he was saved from a brutal beat down by The Dravers.
Hood: It was nice to see that Jonathan and Nathan are still alive. I thought they might have chosen suicide after NSFW.
Smith: How dare you speak flippantly about such things!
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: Duce needs a win here.
Hood: What, and Kip doesn’t? Man, lowkey shitting all over the Kipster.
Smith: I’m just saying…Duce is in that tag title hunt. A loss here would hurt.
Hood: You just love suppressing the little man, don’t you? Boy you’re going to fit right in when we hit North Korea.
~Kip throws some punches and kicks as he approaches Duce. Duce remains still for a moment before charging forward and SMACKING Kip right in the face with D-Trigga!!! Kip FLIES backwards into the corner. Duce runs forward and hits Kip with a Bicycle Knee Strike…this likely knocks Kip out. Duce, however, keeps him upright~
Smith: I think Kip is done.
Hood: BREAKING NEWS
Smith: Oh so now you’re against Kip?
Hood: After the first five seconds of this match? Fuck yes.
~Duce, holding onto Kip’s arms, delivers a vicious ripcord headbutt. He immediately follows that up with a jumping knee (Duce of Clubs). Kip collapses to the mat. Duce rolls him over and makes the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…DUCE JONES!!!!!
Smith: Duce Jones dominates Kip Young.
Hood: THE DUCE IS LOOSE
Smith: He looks READY for those Tag Titles.
Hood: Good luck, Duce. Welcome to life after Bifford.
Smith: It’s as though the man has escaped Shawshank.
~"Godspeed" kicks back in as Duce raises up off of Kip and gets to his feet. Scruff is over to raise his hand in victory but Jones only looks disappointed in Kip's effort or lack thereof.. Looking over to Belvedere, Duce request the microphone. The one cheering fans calm down as Duce signals for his music to be cut. He retrieves the mic and has a seat on the bottom turnbuckle. His head hangs low as he speaks, bringing his focus to a Kip, whose being helped out of the ring.~
Duce Jones: Ya see how simple dat was?
~Murmurs begin to stir throughout the crowd, confused as to what point Duce was making.~
Duce Jones: Ya beat ya opponent an' ya let em go home ta they family.. Nothin' mo'.. Nothin' less.. But ya see there's dis thang called pride. Tha weakest person on dis Earth would give their life fo' they pride.
~Duce brings the microphone down from his mouth as he looks around to the fans.~
Hood: What hell is he talking about?
Smith: If you would give the man time to get it out. He did just finish competing.
Hood: You can't seriously consider what just took place as a match.
Smith: There was an opening bell and a closing bell.. So technically it counts as one.
~Duce uses the ropes to get vertical as he steps towards the center of the ring and faces the hard camera.~
Duce Jones: Pride is why I don't brag about every accomplishment I've eva' achieved. Because what kinda man am I, if I gotta deliberately put the next down. Biff.. don't thank fo' a second dat I've tucked my tail an' tryna dodge ya.. Cuz we will meet again but I've been fairly busy tryna capitalize on an opportunity.
~Duce walks up and leans against the ropes as he waves into the camera.~
Duce Jones: Hi H.O.E.S!
Hood: Hey! How dare he call them that?
Smith: I'm willing to bet their gonna wanna snap his neck after that one.
~Duce gets off the ropes, a smirk planted his face, the lights shining off of his platinum plated grill. He then looks down the aisle towards the entrance.~
Duce Jones: Or is it T.U.L.I.P.S…? Maybe fo' but who's counting? Howeva' y'all H.O.E.S pop up on tha scene like tha Creata' themself sent y'all here ta bless up with y'all presence. Week afta' week afta' week…
~Duce pauses.~
Duce Jones: Afta' week.. afta' muthafuckin' week.. I've had ta watch y'all two dykes waltz down dat aisle like y'all tha hottest tag team in tha fuckin' industry. An' honestly Sare Bare.. Bear? Who gives a fuck? But my beef wasn't wit ya.. it was ya bitch who was tha problem.
~Duce pauses again.. His head twitches a bit but he composes himself quickly.~
Duce Jones: My bad… I try ta have respect fo' women but dis bitch is different.. Lillian.. Listen up an' listen ta me good.. What y'all did ta Kitty.. it was cute.. but what ya need ta keep in mind.. I damn near won those straps by my gahdamn self. But Blair Witch saved y'all by hittin' me wit a chair.
~He laughs uncontrollably before becoming serious, a slight smirk still etched on his face.~
Duce Jones: Ya betta' keep ya eyes focused on what's really real.. Or those belts dat make you and Sarah just so SUPER AWESOME AND SUPER INVINCIBLE AND SUPER DOMINATE! An' just grrrr.. Whateva' tha fuck dat shit means, ya might look up an' ya whole world'a be crumblin' in front'a ya.. Nathan.. Jonathan.. I look forward ta sharin' tha rang wit y'all.. An' as far as who my partna' will be at Redacted.. Just kno'... I'm still lookin'..
~With that, he drops the mic as his music starts back up and he exits the ring and heads to the back, slapping a few fans hands on the way up the aisle.~
Smith: Duce Jones is fired up...and for good reason!
Hood: He had a shot at winning those tag belts last week only to get fucked by ROSE not once, but twice.
Smith: Indeed...I've also been told that we will, in fact, have a triple threat match for the OCW Tag Titles at Redacted. The Dravers and Duce Jones, plus a partner, to challenge ROSE for the OCW Tag Team Titles.
Hood: Fuck yea! Who says tag team wrestling is dead?
Smith: I don't recall anybody saying that, Hood.
Hood: Well, if someone did say that...IN YOUR FACE
Smith: Who will Duce nab as his tag team partner? I guess we'll have to wait to find out!
~As we head backstage we find the blonde bombshell, Who’re, eagerly smiling into the camera ready to conduct a quick interview.~
Hood: Who’re looks so fucking hot tonight.
Smith: Oh come on that's not appropriate at all.
Hood: For her to look that good? I agree. I'm a married man!
Who’re: Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, Crystal Sharpe.
~The camera pans over a little bit as OCW newcomer, Crystal Sharpe, can be seen smiling brightly as she receives a warm response from the fans in attendance~
Hood: This is starting to remind me of a porn I watched earlier…
Smith: Damnit, Hood!
Crystal: Hi, thank you. It's great to be here… in Key West, Florida!
~The crowd pops at the mention of their hometown~
Who’re: How do you feel after your victory earlier tonight?
~Crystal smiles at the Who’re, refusing to actually call her that~
Crystal: Thanks. You know, Road Dawg was a good challenge for me, he put up a good fight and honestly, before the show, I was doubting myself a lot. Luckily things turned out in my favor and I can now add another win to my name. I wish him all the best in his career here.
Hood: A very humble response, this woman sickens me.
Smith: What is wrong with you?!
Who’re: So from what you told me earlier, you have an announcement to make?
Hood: Let me guess, she's a lesbian as well?! What is it with all these hot chicks being lesbian?!
Smith: Oh shut up.
~Crystal nods her head as she again smiles at the interviewer whose name she refuses to say~
Crystal: That's right, unfortunately this match tonight was my last match that I'll have in this company for some time. You see, Logan and I are trying for a baby.
~Who’re gasps and immediately grabs Crystal for a hug~
Who’re: You are?! Oh my goodness, congratulations!
Hood: Oh that's right, I forgot she was fucking Logan.
Smith: HOOD!!!
Crystal: I know he hasn't had a great couple of weeks recently what with him feeling like Vossler has stolen his spotlight, but I'm hoping that once I get confirmation on my pregnancy things will turn around for him. And then hopefully he'll also win the Savage Title at Redacted.
Who’re: That's right, he's going to be in the Savage title match in North Korea. Will you be accompanying him to the ring?
Crystal: I wouldn't miss it for the world. I know with me in his corner, Logan can and will achieve anything.
Who're: Crystal, it's been lovely talking to you this evening, good luck with your pregnancy.
Crystal: Thanks… seriously what is your real name? I'm not calling you that. Screw it, I'll just call you Amy. Thanks, Amy.
~Crystal and Who’re laugh as we cut back to Hood and Smith~
Smith: So she wins to go to 2-0 and semi-retires?
Hood: Don't look at me. She's crazy.
Smith: Well, I hope the couple is able to find happiness. Although I wish she were with a better person.
Hood: There you go, shitting all over true love once again!
Smith: That isn't true love.
Hood: Spoken like a bitter man with a jaded heart.
Smith: No comment! Next up we have the #1 Contender for the Craze Title, Ed Houston taking on one half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, Lilith. This one should be interesting...let's head down to the ring!
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Singles Match
Ed Houston (27-14) vs. Lilith © (6-2)
~The fans inside the OCW Arena are feeling FROGGY. They hop around like little amphibians in anticipation of an afternoon shower. Belvedere clears his throat to a serenade of human ribbits~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The house lights go down as colorful lights start flashing all around the area. "Imaginary" by Evanescence begins to play, as Lilith appears at the top of the entrance ramp. She is wearing a black miniskirt, burgundy leggings, an extremely tight low cut tank top and black leather heeled ankle boots. Lilith proceeds to skips down to the ring holding a giant lollypop in one hand and a teddy bear in the other. The crowd look on confused but begin to boo her despite the fact that she looks so cheerful~
Belvedere: From Los Angeles, California… weighing in at 142 pounds.... she is on half of the OCW Tag Team Champions…she is LILITH!!!
~Lilith eventually reaches the ring and locates a child sitting front row, she passes him her giant lollypop. Lilith then skips around the outside of the ring, placing her teddy bear on the turnbuckle and bounces up onto the ring apron, waving to the crowd and blowing kisses to them all. She climbs through the ropes still smiling and waving to everyone whilst waiting for Ed to enter~
Smith: Lilith in singles competition for the first time in – awhile.
Hood: She’s never TRULY in singles competition, Smith.
Smith: Oh?
Hood: There’s always a tag partner lurking around in that giant head of hers.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the arena. You're Gonna Go Far , Kid starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way down the entrance ramp. He stops by fans in the crowd and high fives them. Once he gets about half way down the ramp, he sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he waves to the crowd~
Belvedere: From Miami, Florida…standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is a former Paradigm and a former Craze Champion…he is The RocketMan…he is…Ed Houston!!!
Smith: Ed!
Hood: Stop screaming like some kind of fan girl who isn’t aware of all his NASA failings.
Smith: It’s just great to see him back out there.
Hood: I guess. Every time I see Ed I’m reminded of disaster and tragedy.
~Belvedere takes Lilith’s tag belt. She’s a little leery of handing it off, at first. But flips a switch and hands it over with a big smile. Belvedere is like “ooohkay”, calmly taking the belt and hurrying out of the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Lilith with a big opportunity tonight against Ed Houston!
Hood: I heard Ed trashed an entire box of Oreos before coming out here.
Smith: That doesn’t sound like Ed Houston behavior, Hood.
Hood: Oh, it happened. I have sources. If word gets to Lilith, he could be fucked.
~Lilith and her deranged NEW attitude, saunters up to Ed. The former Paradigm Champion is busy working some athletic tape around his wrist, making sure he’s ready to go. Lilith gets in his face. She starts to mention THE CHALLENGER. She does an exaggerated motion with her arm of a spaceship exploding before crashing into the ground. Ed’s jaw tightens. He reaches out and snatches Lilith by the hair, aggressively placing her in a side head lock. The crowd pops~
Smith: Yea well…I’m not sure what Lilith expected to happen.
Hood: Her ‘self-destruct’ personality must have taken over for a bit.
Smith: You really think she has multiple personalities?
Hood: She’s like that stupid movie Inside Out… if it were a horror film.
~Lilith yells out in frustration. She tries to wiggle free. She takes her nails and digs them into Ed’s abs…hoping to provide enough pain that an opening will emerge. Ed is like “Geezus”…he throws Lilith forward…she hits the ropes and bounces off. Ed performs a standing spinning heel kick. Lilith ducks! She hits the ropes a second time. Houston spins around. Lilith leaps into the air with a Lout Thesz! Houston catches her…Lilith claws at his face. Ed, doing everything he can to protect his face from any major damage, spins around and SLAMS Lilith into the mat with a Spinebuster!!! The crowd pops for the move! Ed sits back, on his ass and backslides away, feeling his face, staring at Lilith like she’s CRAZY~
Smith: Ed Houston got more than he bargained for, I think.
Hood: Lilith is like a feral cat. They probably can’t kill you but man oh man can they fuck you up.
Smith: That whole ‘can’t kill you’ part…I don’t think I’d say that in front of her. Don’t want to give the woman any ideas, Hood.
Hood: Ah, so you ALSO subscribe to the Inside Out theory. Cool. Yea, good idea, saying that might wake up the ‘COMMIT HOMICIDE’ voice in her head.
~Lilith rolls over, holding her back in pain. Ed leans back before kipping up to his feet. Lilith gets to all fours. Ed runs in, throwing a kick at her head. Lilith flattens out. Ed misses and stumbles into a corner. Lilith pushes up to her feet. Houston turns around and charges at Lilith from behind. Lilith leaps into the air and smacks Ed in the head with a Pele Kick!!! Ed staggers into the ropes…his stunned body bounces off…Lilith catches his arm and tosses him over with a deep arm drag!!! Houston rolls out of the ring, to the floor~
Smith: Lilith responding well after Ed’s initial attack.
Hood: I wouldn’t call what Ed did an attack. It was more along the lines of self-defense.
Smith: Well, true…I guess I meant to say Lilith is responding after Ed gained the early advantage.
Hood: Boy you really fucked that one up, Smith.
~Lilith, back on her feet, storms around the ring, grabbing and pulling at her hair. It’s clear this woman is a few balls short of a rack. Houston returns to his feet, leaning against the barricade, holding his head from the previous kick. Lilith spots him…she screams and charges forward, leaping through the ropes with a dive!! Houston catches Lilith!! He drives forward, slamming her back into the edge of the apron!! He sets her up on the apron immediately following the blow. He grabs her legs and tosses her over his head…he turns and slings her down into the floor with an Alabama Slam!!! The back of Lilith’s head hits HARD! Ed rolls back into the ring. Scruff looks down and yells “ONE!”~
Smith: It’s not every day Ed gets to play the ‘big opponent’.
Hood: Ed busting out those power moves like a mini-Meyhu!
Smith: The back of Lilith’s head hit hard. We could see a count out.
Hood: Surprised Ed is comfortable going that route.
Smith: I’m not…Lilith is painful, dangerous. He’s got a Craze Title match to worry about.
~Scruff yells “TWO!” Lilith continues to hold the back of her head. Houston sits up, running his hands through his hair. Scruff yells “THREE!” Houston gets to one knee and heads toward the ropes, looking down at Lilith. Scruff yells “FOUR!” Houston considers stepping out and breaking the count. Scruff yells “FIVE!”~
Smith: The competitor in Ed Houston doesn’t want the count out.
Hood: Use your brain for once you NASA flunky. You’ve got a big match at Redacted in TWO WEEKS. Take the count out!
Smith: He seems to be at a philosophical impasse.
~Scruff yells “SIX!” Houston is about to step out…before backing away. He places his hands on his hips, lowers his head and begins shaking it…the inner conflict is REAL. Scruff yells “SEVEN!” Lilith finally begins to sit up~
Smith: A pragmatic Ed Houston.
Hood: Yea, but if she gets back in the ring then he just gave her a long ass time to recover.
Smith: Ah, so you’re saying this is a Catch-22?
Hood: Fuck no. I hate that term because that book is so fucking heavy.
Smith: It is a rather weighty tome.
~Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Lilith reaches for the apron cloth…she uses it to help raise to a standing position. Scruff yells “NINE!” Lilith DIVES into the ring before ten. Ed turns around, spotting Lilith in the ring, on all fours. He seems annoyed…at himself more so than Lilith. He grabs Lilith by the hair. Lilith stomps on his foot! She shoves his hands away and dives in with a head butt to Ed’s chest. Her head remains in his chest…Houston starts to yell. We zoom in to see Lilith biting Ed’s pec. Scruff takes longer than he should to spot the infraction…he counts to five~
Smith: The unpredictable, feral Lilith is biting Ed!
Hood: I can’t tell if she’s trying to hurt or please him.
Smith: It’s obviously HURT
Hood: Hey, you don’t know what goes on behind closed doors in the Lilight house.
Smith: And I don’t want to know!
~Scruff hits five and forces a break. Lilith releases her VICE bite…we see red teeth marks in the center of Ed’s pec. Thankfully the nipple has been spared. Houston reaches for the bite mark, inspecting it. Lilith charges forward with a knee into Ed’s gut. Houston doubles over. Lilith tries to double under hook both arms. Houston rises up…he’s got Lilith in position for another Alabama Slam!! He slings her down…but Lilith grabs his head and smashes Ed face first into the mat with a sitout Facebuster!!! Houston flips over upon impact making it easy for Lilith to make a cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out by Ed!
Hood: And now Ed’s going to have bite marks on his titty heading into Redacted.
Smith: So?
Hood: It’s going to make him look like a freak!
~Lilith claws at Ed’s face, angry that he had the audacity to kick out!! Houston yells out, covering his face and rolling over. Lilith leans forward, getting on all fours…she grabs at the back of Ed’s head and rubs his face into the mat, shoving down on it as hard as she can. It looks pretty fucking painful. She finally ceases…retaining a handful of Ed’s hair. She yanks The RocketMan to his feet and drags him toward a corner, smashing him face first into the buckle. She yanks him toward the next corner, doing the same…then another…she heads for the fourth, slamming Ed face first into the buckle!! Houston stumbles backward, dropping to one knee, holding his neck. Lilith was really jerking his neck around. She heads toward Ed, throwing a kick into his chin. The impact stands him up. She lunges forward, wrapping her arms around him for a bear hug! Her nails dig into his back! Ed’s eyes widen…he is NOT a fan of this. He uses his superior strength to break free, shoving Lilith back. She tries to go back at him but he sneaks in a SUPERKICK!! Lilith goes stiff, collapsing to the mat. Houston drops to his knees…he reaches for his chest…his head…his neck…his back…geezus, Lilith is one painful opponent~
Smith: HUGE superkick by Ed! That’s usually the penultimate move in his repertoire!
Hood: Huh?
Smith: That’s the setup to his finisher!
Hood: Oh.
~Houston fights through the several areas of pain. Lilith is still down. He hustles toward the nearest corner and leaps onto the top buckle, proving that he’s as tough as they come. He looks down at Lilith…he raises up, straightens his back and leaps off with a Shooting Star Press!!! Lilith gets her knees up! Ed’s chest and abdomen crash right down onto her knees! He rolls forward, winding up on his ass, holding his midsection in pain. Lilith rolls onto her knees, fighting back to her feet~
Smith: She blocked Blastoff!
Hood: This is why Ed couldn’t hack it at NASA.
~Lilith pops back to her feet. Ed does the same. He turns around…Lilith charges at him with a clothesline…Ed catches her and takes her down with a Small Package!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Lilith BARELY kicked out of that one!
Hood: Shit’s moving fast, now.
Smith: Well, when you have to block someone’s finisher…
Hood: Signals that shit’s real?
Smith: Sure.
~Lilith is on all fours, looking to crawl toward the ropes. Ed, however, grabs onto her leg. He looks to apply his patented Ankle Lock known as Countdown!! Lilith realizes what’s taking place…she spins around and kicks Ed right in the bite mark, on his chest! He releases her leg and staggers into the ropes. He shoots off. Lilith does a kip up! Her legs land around Ed’s head…she takes him over with a Frankensteiner! She grabs onto his legs for the pin…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings! Ed kicks out RIGHT after 3~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LILITH!!!!!
Smith: Ed Houston stunned here tonight against Lilith!
Hood: The apocalypse is upon us, Smith. Geezus
Smith: What athleticism…she managed to surprised Ed with that kip up into a frankensteiner which turned into a pinfall.
Hood: Fucking crazy…both the outcome AND that woman.
~Ed rolls out of the ring, clearly frustrated. He kicks at the barricade, shaking his head. Lilith gets to her feet, laughing. She removes the sweaty strands of hair from her face…once again mocking the Challenger crash. Her belt is handed to her…she raises it high. The fans BOOOO~
Smith: This is about as frustrated as we’ve seen Ed, Hood.
Hood: He’s got to be thinking back on that attempted count out. He had Lilith reeling and let her recover.
Smith: He went against his natural, competitive instincts. That could have cost him the match…however, he still has a spot secured at Redacted.
Hood: Yep, it’s a loss but Lilith is a champion. Plus, that match could have easily gone his way.
Smith: Indeed…but, a huge win for Lilith. She continues to prove…well, just about everyone wrong.
~In the backstage area, the Gentleman's Game Host stands between The Big Bifford and Cecilworth M! Farthington. Bifford and Cecilworth appear to be calm and gentlemanly, as they normally do.~
Gentleman's Game Host: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the fourth installment of The Gentleman's Games. Tonight...
~Bifford reaches and, in a very ungentleman-like way, snatches the microphone from the host.~
Bifford: Tonight we have a special guest host.. many of you know that earlier in the week I tweeted about our contest tonight and my tweet was liked by The World Rock Paper Scissors Association... and their president has deemed it necessary to come and judge the contest himself. Ladies and gentlemen, President Wyatt Baldwin..
~The Host, looking slightly offended, steps aside. A man with messy hair who clearly hasn't shaved since yesterday walks up to the two men. Bifford hands him the microphone.~
Wyatt: Well, gentlemen... as the author of the official rule book of Rock, Paper, Scissors, and as a man who has gone on a 43 game winning streak in the game, I assure you nobody is more qualified to judge this contest than me. Furthermore, I am the President of the Association that plans to make Rock, Paper, Scissors great again.
~Fans politely applaud, not really sure of what to make of all this.~
Wyatt: And so tonight we will have a best 2 out of 3 round contest... I will say one, two, three, fire and then you will throw your hand gestures. If you throw a hand symbol that isn't clearly rock, paper, or scissors, you will lose the round. Rock beats scissors, paper beats rock, and scissors beats paper. Are there any questions, gentlemen?
Bifford: Can I throw the SCYTHE symbol which beats all other symbols?
Wyatt: Definitely not...
Hood: CHEATERS! Bifford has a right to throw SCYTHE!
Smith: I don't think that's anyone's right.
~Cecilworth looks at both Bifford and Wyatt with a bit of an air of being above this particular game that was obviously chosen by Bifford.~
Wyatt: Alright... let's begin.. one, two, three - fire.
~Bifford winds up and throws paper at the command of fire, while Cecilworth, in an elegant and gentlemanly fashion throws paper also at the exact correct moment.~
Wyatt: That's a draw... one, two, three - fire!
~Bifford, seeming to think there would be more time between contests, rushes and throws scissors. Cecilworth, again in the most dignified way, throws rock.~
Wyatt: Rock beats scissors! Round one goes to Cecilworth!
~Bifford turns around and takes a few steps, obviously bothered by this outcome.~
Wyatt: Come back, we still have one - or possibly two more rounds to decide...
Smith: Oh for the love of God.... please make this stop.
Hood: What's wrong Smith? You don't like a good game of RPS?
~Returning to the two men, Bifford prepares himself.~
Wyatt: One... two... three - fire.
~Bifford winds up again, being prepared this time and throws rock. Cecilworth, showing true attention to the aesthetics of his actions as he moves, throws scissors.~
Wyatt: Rock beats scissors again, but this time for Bifford!
~Bifford begins celebrating like he's won the World Series, jumping up and down and hugging Wyatt, who looks terrified. In fact, the hug continues as Bifford jumps around, causing Wyatt to leave the ground. Cecilworth attempts to look calm, but can't help but half-roll his eyes at the ridiculous celebration. As Bifford finally lets Wyatt down, the President of the RPS Association gives him bad news:~
Wyatt: And so now we will have the tie-breaker... are you ready, gentlemen?
~Both men nod.~
Hood: The suspense is killing me...
Smith (sighing): Yeah, I'm sure our ratings are going through the roof for... this....
~Both men prepare themselves.~
Wyatt: One... two... three... FIRE!
~Bifford winds up and goes with the plan that has worked before and throws rock. Cecilworth, likewise - realizing a pattern - throws rock also. Wyatt waves it off.~
Wyatt: That's a tie... let's go again... ONE, TWO, THREE - FIRE!
~Bifford, once again caught off guard by the quick succession of rounds after the tie, forms his right hand into one can only be described as a weird hook. Cecilworth, figuring Bifford would try rock again, throws paper.~
Wyatt: What is that?
Bifford: It's THE MIGHTY SCYTHE, which BEATS PAPER!!!
Wyatt: That's definitely not a thing... that's a disqualification.. scythe isn't allowed by the official rules, which are available in my book: The Rock Paper Scissors Handbook: A Comprehensive Guide to Everything Rock Paper Scissors. Rules, Strategy, Psychology and a whole lot more!, which can be purchased on Amazon. Your winner, CECILWORTH M! FARTHINGTON!
~Bifford glares at Wyatt with hatred, but then reaches his hand forward to Cecilworth, offering him a gentleman's handshake. Cecilworth looks at Bifford with a bit of a weary look, given the man just threw a scythe at him, but reaches forward and shakes Bifford's hand.~
Smith: Well.. thankfully that's over... and the two men are still acting as gentlemen... that's sure to sell some Pay Per View buys...
Hood: Everyone loves this but you, Smith.
~Cecilworth turns to walk away, leaving Bifford with Wyatt Baldwin. Bifford extends his hand toward the President of the Rock, Paper, Scissors Association, and Wyatt takes his hand and shakes it. With a quick yank of the hand, Bifford pulls Wyatt forward as his boot swings up into Wyatt's stomach. Bent over in pain, Bifford hooks Wyatt up and delivers The Biff End piledriver on the cold, hard concrete floor in the backstage area. The fans pop at seeing the act of very ungentleman-like violence. Bifford, standing up, brushes himself off and then calmly walks away from the unconscious man.~
Smith: Bifford just struck Wyatt!
Hood: I hear he's not a fan of Wyatt's work.
Smith: I have no idea what you're talking about...regardless, Bifford moves to 0-4 in the Gentleman Games. He's hopelessly behind...but if he can notch a win next week, it would give him some momentum heading into Redacted.
OCW Presents: Redacted
OCW Craze Championship
Texas Barbed Wire Match
Singles Match
OCW Paradigm Championship
OCW Savage Championship
OCW Championship
LIVE! Monday, July 29th 2019
From North Korea
Tag Team Championship
R.O.S.E. (c) vs. The Dravers Boys vs. Duce Jones & TBD
Ed Houston vs. TBD
Lurrr vs. Scott Stevens
Alice Knight vs. Andrea Hernandez
Cecilworth M! Farthington (c) vs. The Big Bifford
Vincent Langston (c) vs. Logan
Mike Best (c) vs. TBD
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Non-Title Match
Vincent “The Legend” Langston © (29-4) vs. John E Depth (2-5)
~The crowd is in the mood for some SAVAGERY. A “LANG STONE” chant begins. Depth looks around, standing in his corner. The dude looks petrified…and, no, that isn’t some kind of sexual innuendo. He’s legit scared. Belvedere clears his throat. Depth swallows, hard. Again…NO SEXUAL INNUENDO~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following match is scheduled for one fall!!! Introducing first, currently in the ring, from Hollywood, California…John E Depth!
Smith: Depth has faced them all…but he looks legit scared tonight.
Hood: Langston is a monster, Smith. A pissed off monster, I’d say.
Smith: Things have been rough for our new commissioner since NSFW. Vossler, Dane, and Logan have all been interfering in his business.
Hood: The Savage Title is like Hansel, Smith. SO HOT RIGHT NOW.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"I Am Legend" echoes through the arena, followed by the build-up of the music. The claps and heavy beat are joined by lasers and flashing lights as the music blasts out. Vincent Langston walks out on the stage, a stoic look on his face as he walks towards the ring. He jumps over the ropes, lands in the ring, and lets out a loud yell to the crowd, before turning back to his corner~
Belvedere: From Washington, DC…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 230lbs…he is the OCW Savage Champion, he is the OCW Commissioner…he is Vincent ‘The Legend’ Langston!!!
~Langston hands his title over to Belvedere. Belvedere accepts the offering with a ‘thank you, sir’ before exiting. Langston stands in his corner, eyeing Depth~
Smith: A quick, painful experience awaits OCW C-Level Adult Film Director.
Hood: Depth should just exit the ring, get counted out.
Smith: That would be cowardice, Hood. But not insane.
~The bell rings. Depth dives through the ropes, to the outside!!~
Hood: HE LISTENED TO ME!
Smith: Ugh…I hate this but it is smart.
~Langston rushes toward the ropes. He looks down, over the top rope, angrily. Depth leans against the barricade, folding both arms. Scruff yells out “ONE!”~
~Scruff yells “TWO!” Langston turns his back to Depth, disgusted. The fans start to BOOO. Scruff yells “THREE!” Depth looks down at a pretend watch. His eyes move up, meeting Scruffs, who yells “FOUR!” Depth motions for Scruff to hurry it along~
Smith: So disgusting…we need to fire this man.
Hood: Why? He ran that groot fucker out of here. He’s an eternal hero for that shit.
Smith: Well, fine…move him into a backstage role.
Hood: You want this guy creeping around backstage?
Smith: I don’t know! I just hate spineless wrestlers!
~Scruff yells “FIVE!” Langston has traversed the entire width of the ring, leaning over the top rope, annoyed, frustrated, and intent on giving Depth no further attention. Scruff yells “SIX!” A loud CRACK sounds out!! The fans yell! Depth collapses forward, possibly dead. Standing on the other side of the barricade is Vossler, holding a warped steel chair. He hops over the barricade and rushes toward the ring~
Smith: What the heck?!
Hood: Fuckin Vossler! He’s not taking this shit sitting in the back, Smith! He’s out here to MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
Smith: Logan’s up next, not Vossler! The man needs to remain content in his standing. If he works hard, keeps fighting, he’ll get there eventually!
Hood: Yea, just like Mike Best patiently waited for his turn. Winners knock the damn door down, man! Losers wait.
~Vossler hits the ring!! Langston turns around, hearing the uprising in commotion. He turns and walks RIGHT INTO a chair shot from Vossler!! The fans pop for the violence! Scruff rushes in, trying to prevent further violence. A dazed commissioner falters into the ropes…he bounces off. Vossler throws another chair shot. Langston gets both hands up and CATCHES THE CHAIR! He stares at Vossler. Vossler stares back at him. Vossler seems a bit nervous that Langston caught the chair. He throws a kick into Langston’s lower abdomen and CRACKS another chair shot over Langston’s back. Scruff finally snares the chair and yanks it from a crazed Vossler. Langston falls to all fours~
Smith: What is going on?! Is this match thrown out? It needs to be thrown out!
Hood: Depth is dead. Langston is hurt.
Smith: All because of Vossler. Seriously…get some help, man! Langston made a business decision back in November. It wasn’t personal!
Hood: Everything in this business is personal, Smith. Quit being such a bitch.
Voice: HOLD ON! STOP!
~The crowd reacts, turning toward the entrance ramp. We spot OCW GM Marcus Welsh, mic in hand. He has a frantic look on his face~
Marcus Welsh: Vossler! You stop it, right now!
~Vossler, breathing heavily due to the intense situation turns toward Welsh, yelling back, arms extended. He doesn’t appear happy with the interruption~
Marcus Welsh: I think you’ve more than proven you’re a more focused, determined man than you were at the end of 2018. I signed you under the hope that you’d become a star around which this company could be built. I still have those hopes.
~The crowd boos. Langston is still down~
Marcus Welsh: Normally, people must wait in line for title opportunities. However, with what power I have left, I’m willing to forego protocol and give you what you desire. Only it won’t be tonight…
~Vossler shakes his head, annoyed by this revelation~
Marcus Welsh: A match of this magnitude needs to be promoted, hyped. This is a big money match! The legend, Langston defending his Savage Title against the man he removed from his Death March team…a man who is destined for stardom…Vossler! So, I say we do it next week at the go-home episode of Massacre!
~The crowd kinda pops. They’d like to see it tonight but, hey, at least they’ll get it next week~
Marcus Welsh: MOTHER FUCKER
~Zybala bursts through the entrance curtain throwing SUPERKICKS! He throws one at Welsh, missing on purpose. Welsh jumps, nearly falling off stage. Zybala has a good laugh at Welsh’s expense~
Marcus Welsh: What are you doing out here? Haven’t you DONE ENOUGH since NSFW?
Mike Zybala: This is MY company, remember?
~Welsh nearly pukes~
Mike Zybala: I was backstage watching, listening to this ordeal. And, I agree…these two should fight.
~The crowd pops. Welsh softens, slightly~
Mike Zybala: But not next week. Not in the near future…no, no, no…these two should fight TONIGHT!
~HUGE POP~
Mike Zybala: Which means your idea has officially been…VETOED. Scruff! Ring the bell, Vossler challenging Langston for the Savage Title starts – NOW!
~Zybala throws his mic in the air and superkicks it on the way down. It flies into the crowd. He motions for the people in the back to kill the mic before some fan yells into it. Welsh, hands on his hips, shakes his head, dragging his defeated ass backstage. The bell rings~
Smith: Oh my gosh!! It’s Vossler against Langston!! The Savage Title is on the line! It’s happening NOW!
Hood: Holy shit! Zybala made that to SPITE Welsh.
Smith: Well, to be fair, Welsh spent an entire year vetoing every idea Zybala had. This is a little payback.
Hood: Yea but it’s fucking the commissioner over. Geezus…this three person in charge rigmarole is too much.
|
|
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~Vossler, fired up, kicks the ropes. He turns around, ready to end Langston’s reign. The Legend, however, is on his feet. Vossler walks right into a HUGE spinebuster!!! Langston plants Vossler into the mat. The Legend rolls away, showing the effects of Vossler’s attack. Vossler remains on his back, reaching around…the tips of his fingers graze the steel chair~
Smith: Remember…all Savage Title matches are Savage rules…meaning falls count anywhere, no disqualifications. So, that chair is fair play.
Hood: Vossler is going to need it. I’m not sure a head on collision with an 18 wheeler could keep Langston down for a three count.
Smith: So…did you JUST figure out Langston is our boss?
Hood: No comment.
~Langston sits up, holding his back with one hand, reaching for his head with the other. The grimace on his face tells a story of mounting anger. He slowly rises. Vossler rolls over, placing the front of his body on top of the chair, concealing it. Langston reaches down and grabs Vossler by the hair, yanking the challenger off the mat. Vossler gets to one knee, his back facing Langston…he thrusts the chair backward, the left leg poking Langston in the gut!! He stumbles back. Vossler pops to his feet, gripping the chair in proper fashion. He SMASHES it into Langston’s back!! Vincent straights up and marches around the ring. Vossler nails him in the back AGAIN. Langston turns around, reeling against the ropes. Vossler takes the chair…he charges forward and leaps into Langston, chair first…it smacks Vincent in the face! The impact sends both men tumbling over the top rope, to the outside!!! Langston catches 80% of the impact. Vossler, however, rolls around, holding his midsection. The fans at ringside cheer the violence~
Smith: Vossler has the upper hand thanks to the impromptu nature of this contest.
Hood: Hey, Langston had a chance to recuperate during Zybala and Welsh’s dick measuring.
Smith: Still, not fair.
~We cut backstage. Welsh is watching the match on a TV located somewhere in a lightly trafficked area. He seems nervous, chewing on his nails. Greg pats him on the back~
Greg: Did it work?
Marcus Welsh: So far. C’mon, Vos.
~We cut back to the match. Vossler is leaning over the barricade, nearly recovered from the tumble. Langston remains down~
Smith: What was THAT?!
Hood: Did Welsh anticipate Zybala’s veto?
Smith: I…I don’t know. But Vossler ran out here…he got the upper hand and then got his match. We never did find out who booked Langston against Depth…
Hood: WELSH IS A GENIUS.
Smith: Only if Vossler wins, Hood.
~Langston sits up. He grimaces, his body aching from the multiple chair shots. Vossler turns around, spotting the monster known as Langston doing what he does best, recovering from debilitating injury. He snares the chair and stands in front of the Savage Champion, coiled. Langston gets to his feet, unaware – in a daze. Vossler rears back and wraps the chair around Vincent’s head!!! Langston’s arms dip. His body sways…he collapses to the ground!!! Vossler tosses the chair aside and jumps on top of Langston, hooking the leg. Scruff dives into view, making the count~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP!
Smith: Langston refuses to stay down!
Hood: Don’t blow this, Vossler!
Smith: Langston has yet to lose a Savage rules match, Hood. Perhaps he’s invincible in this environment?
Hood: Nobody is invincible. Well, aside from Pre-2018 Scott Syren.
~Vossler slaps the outside, padded surface in frustration. He remains focused, crawling toward the ring. He digs underneath the apron, removing a roll of athletic tape. He begins to hurriedly wrap his left fist while keeping an eye on Langston. Layer after layer is added, protecting his hand from – something. Once finished, he takes his fist and pulls part of the protective mat up, slamming his knuckles into the bare floor. He nods, believing the amount of tape suffice. He reaches back under the ring and pulls out barbed wire! The crowd pops. Vossler begins wrapping the taped fist in barbed wire. Langston rolls over…he crawls toward the barricade, reaching for the supportive apparatus. Vossler stands and raises a right fist wrapped in barbed wire~
Smith: Hey! Who put that there?
Hood: We always have barbed wire under the ring, Smith. For, reasons.
Smith: Well, I think that’s a terrible practice which should come to an end immediately!
~Vossler rears back. Langston turns around, facing the ring. Vossler throws a right handed haymaker. Langston ducks!! Vossler winds up punching a young fan’s giant OWL DOLL! His fist is stuck to the owl. He tries to yank it free. In doing so, he rips the owl open…stuffing flies everywhere. He turns around and receives a HUGE boot to the face from Langston! Vossler flips over the barricade, landing roughly on the other, unprotected side. The young fan yells at him, ‘THAT’S WHAT YOU GET!’ while letting out a HOOT. Langston crawls over the barricade, showing scars from the current war. He lays a few boots into Vossler, keeping the challenger down~
Smith: I’m sure that young fan will be compensated.
Hood: Hopefully upgraded with something not-so-shitty. You know, like a Farthington towel.
Smith: Kids don’t want towels, Hood.
Hood: Normal towels, Smith. They don’t want NORMAL towels.
~Langston pulls Vossler up and hoists him over his shoulder. He backs up…fans scatter. Langston eyes the barricade. He charges forward…Vossler takes his right hand and rakes it across Langston’s face!!! Vincent stumbles…Vossler hops off his shoulder, landing on his feet behind the staggering champion. Langston falls to one knee, holding his face. He rises and turns…Vossler charges forward and SPEARS Langston through the barricade into ringside!! The crowd goes wild!!! The two men are down…a few feet away we see John E Depth’s body…still out from the earlier chair shot. Vossler struggles to his feet, heading for the ring, leaning over the apron, catching his breath. Langston is on his back…a gash appears across the upper, left side of his face from the barbed wire~
Smith: Langston’s bleeding!
Hood: Barbed wire will do that to flesh.
Smith: Well, yes.
Hood: Meanwhile, Depth’s out here taking a fucking siesta.
~Vossler, knowing the tremendous task in front of him, goes back after Langston. He pulls the Savage champion to his feet. He rears back and smacks Langston in the forehead with a right hand!! The barbed wire bites into Langston’s skin!! Vossler has trouble freeing his hand. Langston winces…absorbing the pain without yelling or succumbing to physical deterioration. He throws a kick into Vossler’s knee. Vossler stumbles…Langston takes Vossler’s hand and rips it from his head. Vossler throws a chop at Langston’s chest. Langston backs up, forcing Vossler to whiff. Vossler spins around, giving Langston his back. Langston kicks Vossler away, a big boot hitting him in the ass. Vossler staggers forward…he displays a look of anger. He prepares his fist. He spins around, looking for a discus right hand. He drives the right hand forward…Langston grabs Depth and holds him in place. Vossler’s right hand SLAMS into Depth’s forehead!!! Depth yells out in pain…falling to the ground. Again, Vossler’s hand is stuck in Depth’s skin…he works to pull it free. He finally does…but the lapse in time gave Langston an opportunity to recover. He charges forward and drops Vossler with a lariat!! Vossler slams violently into the ground. Depth is curled up near the barricade, physically tormented from pain~
Smith: Langston isn’t human.
Hood: No shit, he fought through that initial punch only to use Depth as a human shield moments later. Now the fucking guy is in control after EVERYTHING he’s received.
Smith: He’s survived Max Kael, Aidan Collins and many, many others. That title may never leave the commissioner’s waist.
Hood: You might be right.
~Langston snares the top portion of the nearby ring steps. He leans against the post, gathering the necessary strength to move ahead with his diabolical plan. Vossler remains on his back. Langston brings the steps high, over his head and thrusts them downward. Vossler moves! The chairs slam into the ground. Langston holds on, but is obviously shaken by the misfire. Vossler uses the barricade to stand. He faces the Savage Champion and throws a right hand…Vincent hoists the stairs up…the barbed wire SCREECHES against the metal! Fans at ringside scream, holding their ears. Vossler grabs his hand, jarred from the impact. Langston whips the steps upward…they smack Vossler in the face!!! His head jerks backward…it PINGS against the steel ring post. Vossler falls to his knees~
Smith: Oh my gosh! The impact from those steps sent Vossler’s head whiplashing into the ring post!
Hood: Yea, that’ll knock a guy out.
Smith: Indeed.
~Langston’s face, coated in blood from the barbed wire shots, looks down at Vossler. He continues to hold the steps. He throws a quick boot into Vossler’s face. Vossler spins around and is laying, front first atop the bottom tier of the steps…he’s on his knees. Langston repositions…he lifts the steps up and drives them into Vossler’s back. He does this again and again…and a final, fourth time before tossing the steps aside. Vossler appears to be out. Langston yanks him by the hair, tossing the challenger onto his back. He goes for a pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3…NO! Shoulder up!
Smith: Vossler’s turn to stave off defeat!
Hood: Valiant but he’s in bad shape. That refusal will probably result in a crippling ass kicking courtesy of our commissioner.
Smith: I hope that’s hyperbole.
~Langston rises back to his feet, leaving Vossler on the ground. He plants his giant foot into Vossler’s throat, applying all two hundred plus pounds of pressure. Vossler kicks his legs, struggling to remove the foot. Scruff sits back, watching. Once Vossler’s move slow…still, even, Langston removes his foot. He drags Vossler over the bottom tier and places him down like he was before. Langston takes the upper tier of stairs and hops onto the apron. He starts to climb the corner overlooking the steps. The crowd rises with anticipation. Langston wobbles, a bit…but the man’s core strength is unbelievable. He’s able to get to the top, holding the steps. He looks down at a prone, unaware Vossler~
Smith: Oh no!
Hood: Fucker is going to KILL this guy.
Smith: If those steps hit Vossler…I…I don’t even want to speculate.
Hood: LITERAL MURDER
~Langston throws the steps down! Vossler MOVES!! The steps SLAM into the bottom tier! The edge of the top tier stabs into the bottom tier, causing the top tier to remain upright, at a diagonal angle. Vossler crabwalks against the barricade and looks up at Langston with a “you tried to kill me” look. Langston scowls. Langston, realizing where he’s perched, begins to descend. Vossler struggles to his feet and charges toward the apron…he throws his arms into the ropes, creating instability. Langston loses his balance and gets crotched across the bar which connects the top turnbuckle to the ring post~
Smith: OUCH
Hood: Some more SCARS OF WAR for Vincent.
Smith: There’s no give on that bar. Probably the worst spot for…that to occur.
Hood: Wrestlers shouldn’t leave their comfort zone, Smith. Langston shouldn’t leave the ground. Tony the Spider shouldn’t leave the couch.
~Vossler takes a moment, catching his breath while leaning over the apron. He refocuses and climbs atop the apron. He ascends the corner from the outside. Langston remains crotched, hunched over, dealing with the pain crippling his insides. Vossler reaches the second buckle and pounds Langston on the back with some stiff forearm shots. He then hooks Langston’s head. The crowd rises with anticipation~
Smith: What’s he going to do…
Hood: Something very painful, I think.
Smith: Well, yes, you’re probably right.
~Vossler tries lifting Langston up. Langston holds onto the bar between his legs, realizing he’s about to go experience far worse than a crotch spot. Vossler tries again…again Langston blocks it. Vossler releases Langston and leans in…he starts to bite Langston in the cut atop his forehead! Langston yells out in pain! Fans scream, some turn away. Vossler throws a quick jab with the barbed wire right fist into Langston’s midsection, knocking the wind from his lungs while cutting his abdomen. He re-hooks Langston, lifts him up...he nearly loses his balance! He’s able to regain control and fall back, throwing Langston down with a superplex onto the apron!!! Langston hits hard!!! He slips off the apron, landing haphazardly on the outside. Vossler remains on the apron, his teeth clinched, back arched, wincing in pain. Blood surrounds his mouth~
Smith: Holy smokes!!
Hood: Effective…kinda. I mean that had to hurt Vossler almost as much as it hurt Langston.
Smith: I wouldn’t say almost as much…but it did take its toll on the challenger. Just a testament to how far these competitors think they need to go to defeat The Savage Champion.
~Vossler slips off the apron, landing on his feet…he leans against the apron for support. Langston is face down. Vossler stumbles over, turning Langston on his back and making a cover. Scruff drops to his knees, making the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT
Smith: He kicked out once again!
Hood: We need to test this man for alien blood.
Smith: I don’t think he has alien blood in him, Hood.
Hood: But do you KNOW he doesn’t?
Smith: Well, no, I haven’t seen his blood charts.
Hood: Just as I thought…
~Vossler pulls himself up with the help of the barricade. He’s frustrated. He kicks the lifeless body of John E Depth (which remains nearby). He snares Langston by the hair, pulling the Savage Champion to his feet. He hooks both arms, looking for BOLIDE. Langston pushes Vossler away, understanding what’s coming. Vossler rears back, throwing a right, barbed wire haymaker. Langston catches Vossler’s hand…another show of freakish power. He kicks Vossler in the gut, grabs Vossler by the neck and tosses him head first into the obliquely positioned ring steps. Vossler crashes through the upper tier, yanking them from their impaled position…he tumbles atop the upper tier on the other side of the bottom tier. Langston leans against the barricade…fans pat him on the back. We see blood leaking from the few cuts in his abdomen. He feels around…nothing major, just a few slits. But, enough to anger the champion~
Smith: I don’t think Langston is happy with all the cuts he’s received.
Hood: Yea, I’ve heard men get angry when they get slashed across the abs.
Smith: Seems reasonable.
~Langston marches, like an enraged monster, toward the disheveled steps and the body of Vossler. He picks up the upper tier and throws it as far as he can…it slams into the floor before bouncing into the barricade. Fans jump back in fright. Vossler, on his stomach, tries to crawl away, creating some distance. Langston steps on his right wrist, pinning the hand down. He transitions to a knee on the wrist. Vossler tries to get Langston off him. Langston grabs Vossler by the back of the head and drives him, face first into the ground. Vossler goes still. Langston rips at the barbed wire, along with the athletic tape, removing it from Vossler’s hand. He stands, holding the remnants of Vossler’s impromptu weapon high in the air before casting it aside. He snares Vossler by the hair~
Smith: Langston won’t be buying any stock in barbed wire once this match is over!
Hood: Why not? It’s clearly effective.
Smith: You know what I mean.
~Langston pulls Vossler to his feet. He boots Vossler in the gut, hooks him, lifts him high and slams him into the rampway with a POWERBOMB!! Vossler hits hard, arching his back. Langston stomps on Vossler’s chest, keeping him on the ramp. The fans at ringside all cringe. Langston grabs Vossler by the throat…he pulls Vossler to his feet and bullies him up the ramp a few feet before lifting Vossler up and SLAMMING him into the metal ramp with a CHOKESLAM~
Smith: A switch has been flipped! Langston is attempting to murder Vossler!
Hood: He’s dragging him up that ramp which…can only mean one thing.
Smith: What?
Hood: Some kind of huge ass move off the stage.
~Langston grabs Vossler by the arm and drags him up the rest of the ramp, toward the stage. This man is about to make a statement~
Smith: Could he pin Vossler right now? Maybe. But I think this is a message being sent to the Logans, Eric Danes…all the people who have been coming at him as of late.
Hood: That’s great but he’s got to finish Vossler off, first.
Smith: It seems as though that’s what he’s about to do.
~Langston gets Vossler up on the stage. Scruff huffs and puffs his way up there. Langston yanks Vossler up. Vossler shoves Langston away. He lunges forward, smacking Langston in the face with a right hand! Blood from Langston’s previous cuts flies through the air. He turns his head back around, glaring at Vossler. Vossler notices the missing accoutrement from his fist. Langston reaches out with both hands, grabbing Vossler around the throat. He lifts Vossler up! Vossler kicks his legs around…he manages to catch Langston in the groin. Langston drops Vossler. Vossler rushes forward with a knee into Langston’s gut. He begins to hook Vincent’s arms~
Smith: BOLIDE! Vossler is trying to drop Langston with BOLIDE on top of the stage!
Hood: New Savage Champion!
Smith: He’s got to execute the move, first.
~Langston fights free! He rips his arms lose and raises up, smashing the back of his head into Vossler’s chin. Vossler stumbles back. They’re positioning is in the center of the stage…far from any edge. Langston slams a right fist into Vossler’s head. He does this again and again and again. Vossler refuses to go down. The fans begin to cheer Vossler’s toughness…as well as Langston’s persistent violence. Vossler is teetering on his heels…his face is irritated, swelling is underway. Langston finally hoists Vossler onto his shoulders~
Smith: Langston going for a Death Valley Driver
Hood: Drop Vossler on his head atop that stage…that might do it.
~Langston prepares to toss Vossler onto his head. Vossler digs into the gash on Vincent’s head!! Langston yells...he throws Vossler off his shoulders. Vossler, having weakened Langston’s grip, manages to land on his feet! He kicks Langston in the groin, grabs both his arms and drops him with BOLIDE!!!! The crowd leaps to their feet, stunned. Langston is face down. Vossler is on his back, feeling the effects of Langston’s offense. Scruff looks down, ready to make the count if/when Vossler can cover~
Smith: Vossler just took Langston down with BOLIDE! This should be it!
Hood: He’s got to get him over and make the pin!
Smith: The damage he’s absorbed throughout this brutal match has left him incapable of instantly capitalizing.
Hood: That’s why Langston never loses these matches. He fucks people up.
~Vossler begins to move. The realization of the situation hits him…he becomes frantic and hurries to push Langston onto his back. He shoves and pushes and shoves and pushes and finally gets the deadweight over!!! He makes the cover!! Scruff dives in! The fans count along~
1!
2!
3!
NOOOO
Smith: WHAT?!
Hood: That big fucker shouldered up…AGAIN
Smith: That’s it…it’s official. Langston can’t be defeated. He’s been pinned ONCE since joining OCW…thanks to a betrayal by Aidan Collins.
Hood: Might as well retire the Savage Championship. That bitch is HIS
~Vossler sits up. His eyes are wide…he’s shocked (or is it shook…or both?!) He looks at Scruff, holding three fingers, hoping it was an error. Scruff confirms TWO. Vossler lowers his head, shaking it. Langston starts to sit up. He reaches out, grabbing Vossler by the side of the head…he leans in with a HUGE headbutt!! The dismayed Vossler is now the dazed Vossler. Langston snares Vossler’s dazed and head and brings him along to a standing position~
Smith: Somehow…despite being dropped with BOLIDE Langston is back in control!
Hood: Well, ya know…
Smith: Yes?
Hood: I got nothing. This man is way too tough.
~Langston drills Vossler in the gut. He hooks him for SCARS OF WAR! Vossler struggles, trying to break free~
Smith: Vossler’s in bad shape!
Hood: The end is near, I’m afraid.
Smith: If he can’t break free and winds up suffering Scars of War then, yes, it will be over.
~Vossler throws a shoulder into the cut abdomen of Langston. He does this again and again and again…Langston’s hold breaks!!! Vossler slips through and hoists Langston on his shoulders in a reverse Fireman’s Carry!!! He solidifies his base and drops Langston on his head, on top of the stage with BURNING HAMMER!!!! The crowd goes wild!!! Langston is down! Vossler crawls and throws his body on top of Vincent’s. Scruff slides in…the fans count along~
1!
2!
3!!!!!!
~The bell rings! The arena goes wild!! Title change on Massacre!! New Savage Champion in nearly a year~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND NEW OCW SAVAGE CHAMPION…VOSSLER!!!!!
Smith: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!
Hood: The king is dead! We have a new Savage Champion!
Smith: Langston’s held that belt for NEARLY A YEAR! What a HUGE, career defining win for Vossler!
Hood: Fuckin hell…talk about making an impact after coming back from hiatus.
Smith: These fans are cheering…they don’t even know why.
Hood: It’s change, Smith! CHANGE! Finally…some new blood with that title!
Smith: Langston has vanquished challenger after challenger…Aidan Collins, Max Kael, Matt Meyhu, Paul Paras, Ed Houston…the list goes on and on and on…and, finally…a man he deemed unworthy of his Death March team is the one to unseat him. What a match!
Hood: Fuck…I need a blowjob and cigarette after that one.
Smith: Don’t go anywhere…we still have a main event!
Hood: Good luck toping that, boys.
Smith: Vossler is the new Savage Champion!! He’s going to Redacted to face Logan!
~Vossler is on the stage. He’s laying on his back, wincing from his injuries. Scruff appears with the Savage Title. Vossler sees his prize. He’s got enough energy to stand and claim it. He snares the belt and holds it up high in triumph over the former, bloodied champion, who remains down~
Smith: One of the most shocking upsets in Massacre history! Vossler has defeated the monster, Langston!
~We cut backstage where Welsh is pouring champagne. It appears to be an expensive bottle. He sets the full glass down before pouring another...it's celebration time. Vossler's image is on the tv behind him, continuing to celebrate~
Marcus Welsh: Played Zybala like a fiddle, Greg! Vossler got the upper hand, I came out to try to make the match knowing Zybala would veto me in favor of having the match tonight, to please the fans...who haven't been on his side as of late and BOOM, new champion. This was the ONLY way of getting the title off Langston.
Greg: You called it, Marcus! That Vossler guy is so hot...
Marcus Welsh: ...right now?
Greg: Of course, he's so hot right now!
Marcus Welsh: New Savage Champion, baybay! Who says I can't still control things...maybe you're right, maybe I don't need to execute plan 'no more Zybala' at Redacted. You know what? I think I'm going to head to his office and plant the seeds for the Alice/Andrea match at Redacted. I'm on a roll. Things are finally starting to -
Greg: AHH!!!
~Greg shrieks! Marcus spins around to see Logan attacking Vossler on TV! He smashes a chair into the back of Vossler's head, knocking him down. Langston tries sitting up, but Logan bashes him in the head with the chair. Logan hurls the chair to the side and pulls a concussed Vossler up~
Smith: Logan's out here and he's angry!
Hood: He wanted Langston, Smith! Vossler jumped him in line and did what he wanted to do!
Smith: He's still got his shot...it's just against a different opponent.
Hood: So? Doesn't make up for all the time he WASTED studying up on the commissioner.
~Logan hooks a sleeper on Vossler atop the stage. He then leaps forward and snaps Vossler's neck with THE CONNECTOR!! The fans BOOOOO. Logan pops back to his feet. He snares the SAVAGE TITLE and holds it up, giving us a glimpse of what he believes will be a lasting image in two weeks~
Smith: Vossler and Logan one on one at Redacted for the Savage Title.
Hood: Crazy how much things can change in one night.
Smith: Indeed...we have a new Savage Champion folks, and his name is Vossler.
~We cut to the ring, which is now littered with mangled metal, broken glass and patches of blood. In the center of the ring sits two dented steel chairs, a TV monitor with a sizable crack down it, and a small desk with one of its leg smaller than the rest causing it to wobble. Crash Rodriguez is perched on one of the chairs, squatting low on top. The microphone in his hand is wrapped in barbed wire, covering the OCW logo. He raises the microphone to his face as he pulls his hair out of his face,~
Crash: Welcome to the first ever Crash Report. Soon you’ll know it as the most intense talk show on OCW, no on HOTV. Now, I figured we should kick this off with somebody who personifies the idea of violence. The better half of the OCW Tag Team Champions, the woman who put the cat in a bag and threw it down the river…
~The crowd pops at the reference to the events of last week~
Crash: SARAH FUCKING TWILIGHT!
~The lights go out as one of the spotlights centers on the stage. Piano chords begin a haunting melody, accompanied by heavy drum beats. The crowd begins to boo MASSIVELY as the video wall displays the words THE ONLY ONE.~
~Pyros shoot up from both sides of the entrance ramp as our melody finally kicks into guitar. "The Only One" by Evanescence continues to play as Sarah finally walks out onto the stage holding her championship over her shoulder with an arrogant smirk. She is greeted with deafening boos and soaks them all in, as if she enjoyed the crowd's hatred. She 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 and Sarah takes to each turnbuckle, staring coldly and without emotion into the sea of 'sheep' as she raises her championship skyward to even LOUDER boos. The Mistress of Mischief finally takes her place at the center of the ring to hold her championship skyward once more as a waterfall of purple flare rains down upon her. ~
Hood: I’m impressed! Crash Rodriguez has barely gotten his feet wet here on Monday nights and manages to get Sarah Twilight as his very first guest!
Smith: Impressive, yes. Wise? I’m not sure about that.
~The Mistress of Mischief takes a seat next to Crash, slinging her championship over her shoulder. She looks at the host, waiting for him to begin.~
Crash: Now Sarah, I think all of us in attendance want to applaud the decimation of Kitty last week.
~Boos and cheers fill the arena in an even split, with fans not wanting to applaud the villainous Sarah.~
Smith: Not to mention what she did to Chastity Temple earlier tonight!
Hood: She has definitely been tearing through the roster lately with a path of destruction.
Crash: Excuse the idiots, I’m sure that won’t be hard for you considering your marriage.
~Sarah narrows her eyes at Crash as she takes up the mic.~
Sarah: Do you have a problem with my wife?
~The Mistress of Mischief looks completely ready to fight.~
Sarah: If you invited me here to talk shit about my wife I will leave you EXACTLY how I left Kitty Petrova! How I left Chastity Temple!
Smith: Crash might want to consider that. I would take her seriously.
Hood: I think everything is under control. What’s a little tension? I think it’s great for the ratings.
Smith: You’re unbelievable.
Crash: I must say, you have it all wrong. You see, I may find Lilith to be an annoying, uneducated, coattail riding, broken fucking record but you see, I’m here to talk about your own path of destruction. To talk of your Petrova beat down. If I wanted to talk about your all looks and no brain, less threatening than a bag of cereal wife, I would’ve just stuck to twitter.
~Crash smiles as the crowd roars louder with each insult~
Crash: Now, I must say I did expect you to feel like you would have to ‘defend her honor’, after all, you take care of the heavy lifting in the ring, last week, and probably will for the months to come. So tell me, why carry the dead weight?
Crowd: Ooooooohhhhhhh Shhhhhiiiiiiiit!
~Sarah stands from her seat and her eyes are locked on Crash Rodriguez, a newcomer to OCW. The Mistress of Mischief was having none of it.~
Sarah: If you are looking to see some dead weight, I have no issue turning two hundred and four pounds into some dead fucking weight!
Smith: Under control, eh?
Hood: Okay, maybe I was wrong. We should probably get security out here just as a precaution.
~Crash rises to his feet, with his crooked smile beaming~
Crash: Shouldn’t you wait for my back to be turned? Here…
~Crash pulls hair from his scalp and tosses it to the Mistress of Mischief’s feet before turning around and showing her his back.~
Crash: Take that and do your hocus pocus gypsy magic on me if you want. You stand up for her too much, all you are doing is proving she can’t fight her own battles.
~Sarah grabs hold of Crash by his arm and spins him back around to face her. Her deep emerald eyes staring a hole through him. ~
Sarah: You aren’t dealing with my wife, you’re dealing with me. I will rip your fucking heart from your chest and not blink an eye. If you have something further to say about my wife then fucking say it. I am not here to play games.
Crash: We’re getting off topic, you see I brought you out to praise you tonight, not leave you a mangled corpse. However, I must let you know now, not a damn thing you do will intimidate me. You want people to stop bashing the lady, do her and yourself a favor, step to the side and let her handle her business herself.
~Suddenly “Imaginary” by Evanescence hits the arena and Lilith makes her way onto the stage. Crash looks rather annoyed to have the unstable woman interrupt his party. Sarah Twilight is more than happy to see her wife. Sarah smirks at Crash, waving her hand toward the entrance where Lilith was emerging from.~
Sarah: Handle her own business eh?
~Sarah laughs in Crash’s face as her wife makes her way down to the ring, much to the chagrin of Crash.~
Smith: Sure, let’s just add more fuel to the fire. GREAT idea!
Hood: I’m not complaining. I’m loving the view.
Smith: I’m not even surprised anymore.
~Lilith steps into the ring and immediately gets into SARAH’S face, completely blanking Crash as if he didn’t even exist. Lilith grabs Sarah around her head and plants a hard, extremely passionate, kiss right onto her lips which lasts several minutes before Lilith finally steps away again licking her lips a little bit. She finally glances over at Crash, charges at him and stops mere inches away from him, smiling and then grabbing his microphone out of his hand. ~
Lilith: I know what you’re doing… Crash. I’m NOT stupid. You think that if you piss me off enough by calling me all these mean things that you are I’ll completely lose my FUCKING MIND and take all of my aggression out on… you?! But why would you do that?! Why would you deliberately try to get me to rip your ugly fucking head off your shoulders?!
~Lilith PRODS Crash, hard, in his chest whilst giving him a look of pure disgust and then starts to laugh. ~
Lilith: You want me to go at you so that YOU can see if you can handle being in MY ring… against ME… Lilith! That's it isn't it?! ISN’T IT?!! SHUT UP!!!
~Lilith looks back at Sarah, who was still pretty out of it from the hard kiss Lilith had just given her. Lilith smiles as she looks back at Crash. ~
Smith: Does she EVER shut up? Jeez!
Hood: Huh? Oh I wasn’t even paying any attention to what she was saying. I’m just saving the mental image for lat--- I mean yeah!
Smith: How are you even still employed here? My God man … that’s disgusting.
Lilith: Every week I come out here and say that I am the best… I am the greatest… I am THE MOST AMAZING… I AM LILITH… not a single woman in the back even COMPARES to me… fight wise or Grrrrrrr wise OR ANY OTHER WAY WISE!!! and it’s god damn TRUE!!! So the fact you come out here, Crash, INTO MY RING… on your DEBUT in MY company… and you talk all this TRASH about me… let me ask you… do you have a fucking DEATH WISH?!!
~Crash grabs the mic from Lilith's hand and audibly yawns~
Crash: Listen, I didn’t call you out here. This little talk show is for those who prove their worth. Who can hold their own and embody the idea of Massacre. So walk your ass back up that fucking ramp and wait on your wife like a good girl.
Smith: Please, dear God let that happen. My brain can’t handle any more.
Hood: Sit back, relax and enjoy the show!
~Sarah steps in front of Crash, glaring at him.~
Sarah: I don’t give a shit what your little shit show is about. She stays. If there is a problem with that, we can handle it right now.
~She wraps her arm around Lilith, still glaring at Crash.~
Crash: Oh, you mean that Sarah Twilight is once again going to handle Lilith’s business? Again? Like every time we see the two of you together.
~Lilith pulls away from Sarah and marches up to Crash and slaps him across his face. Crash brings a hand to his face and then grabs Lilith by her hair. Sarah quickly jumps into the action, clocking Crash with a hard right. Crash tries throwing elbows, but R.O.S.E. continues to pummel down on him, throwing punches and forearms.~
Smith: And it’s a two on one assault on the newcomer! You had to know this was going to happen. This entire encounter has been volatile from the start!
Hood: The Tag Team Champions looking to put Crash in his place.
Smith: Get security out here!
~As the OCW rookie falls to a knee, we see The Dravers running down the ramp with Duce Jones following close behind. Upon seeing the three enter the ring, Sarah and Lilith slide out of the ring to regroup. Sarah Twilight reaches up and grabs the bottom rope as if to get back into the ring and fight, but Lilith convinces her not to and the Tag Team Champions exit through the crowd.~
Smith: Crash Rodriguez receives some help as the calvery has arrived. Thank goodness. That could have turned out badly.
Hood: Do you think … nahhhh?
Smith: What’s on your mind?
Hood: Duce Jones still needs a partner for Redacted, is it possible Crash Rodriguez might be that guy?
Smith: Oh damn, I hadn’t even thought of that. That would be quite a shock! Right now The Dravers and Duce Jones are having a slight stare down. Rodriguez looks to be thankful for the save and the Tag Team Champions had no choice but to retreat.
Hood: Twilight was looking to fight but Lilith talked her out of it. Numbers were just too much no matter what way you slice it.
~Sarah and Lilith stand up in the stands, staring back at the ring. Crash gives a nod to The Dravers and Duce Jones for the assist.~
~We cut backstage where Mike Zybala is seen scribbling stuff down on a sheet of paper. There is a polite knock at the door~
Mike Zybala: Yes?
~Marcus Welsh enters. He tries to look sullen, depressed…but the man isn’t much of an actor~
Marcus Welsh: Mike…
Mike Zybala: That’s MR. Zybala.
~Zybala replies without looking at Welsh. Welsh suppresses any potential rising anger~
Marcus Welsh: Mr. Zybala, I wanted to talk to you about this Alice Knight, Andrea Hernandez situation. A potential match at Redacted might be the way…
~Zybala finishes his scribbling~
Mike Zybala: There. It’s finished!
Marcus Welsh: What’s finished?
~Zybala lifts up a sheet of paper, showing it to Welsh. We’re blocked from viewing it for ourselves. Welsh’s eyes bug out~
Marcus Welsh: What. Is. That.
Mike Zybala: I was so impressed with Great Scott earlier this evening that I decided to create a new belt. Say hello to the X-Factor Championship!
Marcus Welsh: You can’t be serious…
Mike Zybala: Oh, I’m very serious. I think next week’s main event should be to determine the first ever X-Factor Champion. Perhaps a battle royal…multi man match of sorts featuring Great Scott, Skittlez, The Ubertaker, Tony the Spider, and…
Marcus Welsh: Mi…err…Mr. Zybala…next week is the go-home show for Redacted. I’m pretty sure officials from North Korea will be watching. We need to put our best foot…
Mike Zybala: IGGY HARDY
~Huge pop from the fans. Welsh’s face reddens~
Mike Zybala: We’re going to make OCW history next week, Marcus! Now, head back to your office and continue to iron out the travel arrangements. I’ll deal with Redacted booking, okay? Great. Bye.
~Welsh exits. He’s clearly furious. He’s about to slam the door. Zybala clears his throat, warning Welsh to not slam the door. So, Welsh carefully shuts it, silently. He turns to Greg~
Greg: Well?
Marcus Welsh: You know what I said earlier? Screw it. This man deserves to be locked up. Get the Koreans back on the phone, Greg. We’re moving forward.
Greg: Oh dear.
~We cut back to ringside~
Smith: Welsh's night ruined once more.
Hood: X-Factor Title...the fuck is this shit? A title for rejects? More outsider BULLSHIT
Smith: I think it sounds interesting...and refreshing. Very excited for that match next week...however, it's time for our main event. We're about to find out who will face Ed Houston for the Craze Championship at Redacted. Let's head down to ringside!
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Main Event
Craze #1 Contenders Match
Mark Storm (4-7) vs. Darin Zion (1-1) vs. Crash Rodriguez (0-0)
~The fans are still buzzing about what they witnessed moments ago. A new champion in OCW. They, however, realize it’s time for more potential history. So, they recalibrate, recalculate, and refocus…its main event time!! Belvedere clears his throat to a strong ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall and the winner will receive a Craze Title shot at Redacted!! Introducing first…
~As the opening riff of "21st Century Schizoid Man" fills the arena, Crash Rodriguez, wearing a crown of barbed wire. starts to walk down the ramp. As the second verse, "Blood Rack, Barbed Wire", plays Crash holds his head and starts to squeal and shake, as if calming the pain inside his head. As he regains his composure, he removes his barbed wire crown and he enters the ring as the solo begins playing, he leans against a turnbuckle and falls to a seated position, rocking back and forth until the solo fades away~
Belvedere: From Kansas City, Missouri…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 204lbs…“The Crooked Man” Crash Rodriguez!!!!
Smith: Crash Rodriguez making his debut tonight…in the main event…for a title shot.
Hood: Timing is everything, Smith.
Smith: Indeed…but, he wouldn’t be here if the front office didn’t see something in this guy.
Hood: Oh no doubt, I’m sure we’re about to find out why he’s in this position.
Belvedere: Introducing next…
~The lights in the arena turn off as the opening to “Bow Down” by I Prevail blares across the speakers. After a few seconds the name “Darin Zion” flashes across the screen. Zion walks down the entrance ramp wearing his leather hoodie. As he makes it half way down the ramp, he flips his hood down behind him as he surveys the crowd. He rushes down the entrance ramps high fiving the crowd before he climbs up the stairs. Immediately he leaps over the top rope and lands on the ground kneeling. He points at the crowd as he calmly awaits his opponent~
Belvedere: From Chicago, Illinois…Darin Zion!!!
Smith: Zion back in action…a man we haven’t seen since Not Safe For Work.
Hood: He had a tough showing in that battle royal but he’s getting another shot here.
Smith: The man’s talented and very capable of earning a spot against Ed Houston at Redacted.
Hood: Wouldn’t that be something…the first man eliminated in the battle royal against the winner for the Craze Title six weeks later.
Smith: That is a story that could be told.
Belvedere: And the third and final participant…
~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: And the odds on favorite, I’d think to prevail.
Hood: What about Zion?
Smith: Maybe if this were in HOW. But here in OCW, Mark Storm is by far the more accomplished wrestler.
Hood: That is true…I’m kinda pulling for him. He’s been around since 2014 and has yet to win anything.
Smith: There has never been a wrestler in OCW history who has suffered more bad luck than Mark Storm.
Belvedere: And now…please welcome the guest timekeeper…
~ "Vagabond" by the Greenskeepers hits. The fans BOOOOO. The OCW legend heads toward the ring in a dive bar t-shirt and jeans. He’s got a flask in his hand. The look on his face is stern, serious, and slightly annoyed. He reaches ringside and looks around, confused~
Smith: Oh boy…Mack’s out here.
Hood: You act like you didn’t know this was coming…
Smith: No comment!
~Mack walks over the announce table, slamming his hands down. “WHERE THE FUCK DOES THE TIMEKEEPER SIT?!” Smith points directly to his left. There is a small area with a shitty chair and a ring bell. Mack sighs and takes a long pull from his flask. He heads over…he pauses and looks over the barricade. He points at a fan and says “You want a picture with the great Mack O’Connor?” The MARK of a fan nearly pisses himself. He jumps up. Mack shoves the guy away and takes his superior chair. He slams it down and takes a seat sorta/kinda near his intended position~
Smith: Well, that was rude and entirely unnecessary.
Hood: He’s the potential #1 contender, Smith. He should have a better chair!
Smith: Oh so let’s just give the man preferential treatment.
Hood: Look, you know he’s old. He probably has one of those ass pillows in his car.
~Mack shoots Hood a menacing, peripheral glare. Hood chuckles nervously~
Hood: Oh shit. I’m in danger.
Belvedere: And now…the special guest referee!
~The opening sounds of "Undefeated" by KB begins to play over the speakers of the OCW Arena, a vocal intro heralding the controversial arrival of OCW Champion Mike Best. The lights are dim in the arena, until music takes a turn and the singularly important word is uttered:~
UH-UH-UH-UNDEFEATED.
~As the bass drops, the lights flash in the arena as the crowd rises up in a mixture of cheers and boos alike. The always polarizing wrestling veteran steps out slowly onto the stage, making his way toward the ramp~
~Mike, sporting a comfortably sized ref shirt, heads down the ramp with both titles draped over his good, strong, right shoulder. He reaches the bottom of the ramp and spots Mack from across the ring. Mack’s aware that Mike’s eyes have found him. He tips his flask in Mike’s direction. Mike ignores the gesture and heads up the ring steps, carefully entering the ring. Scruff helps Mike into the ring, just in case. Mike shrugs off Scruff, trying to downplay his injury~
Smith: The champion is here!
Hood: Yea, he’s still got both belts over one shoulder.
Smith: No doubt that left shoulder of his is still in rough shape.
Hood: He’s got two weeks to heal a potentially career ending injury. All these new bandwagon bitches on the Mike Best train are backing the wrong horse.
~Scruff takes both belts. He exits, along with Belvedere and the bell sounds. The fans are on their feet, chanting ‘CRAZE! CRAZE!’~
Smith: Now THIS embodies the Craze Championship!! Three competitors all looking to climb the ranks.
Hood: Yea, not gonna lie, I’m half torqued for this one. These type of matches are how stars are made.
Smith: One star was made earlier this evening…who will join Vossler as another up and coming star? We’re about to find out!
~The three men approach one another. You’ve got the OCW vet, Storm. You’ve got the wrestling vet OUTSIDE of OCW, Zion. And, you’ve got the rookie, Crash. The trio look to each other…each man wondering who is going to break the ice. Zion’s fists are clenched. Storm’s fists are clenched. Crash’s hands work open and shut…his chest heaves…his eyes are sorta buggy. He’s clearly amped beyond the other two~
Smith: This is a huge moment for Crash. It’s pretty obvious that he’s super fired up.
Hood: Yea, which is cool…but you have to harness that energy.
Smith: Indeed. Zion and Storm have wrestled for championships in promotions all over the globe. They are used to moments like this.
~Crash’s energy gets the better of him. He charges forward and BLASTS Zion in the head with a right hand! He turns around and drills Storm! He nails Zion again…then Storm, then Zion, then Storm, then Zion, then Storm, then Zion, and finally Storm!!! Both men are reeling. Zion is against the ropes…Crash charges in and clotheslines Zion over the top rope, to the floor!! The crowd is fired up! Crash turns and sees a dazed Storm. He charges in…Storm catches him, spins around and SLAMS him into the mat!!! Storm pops on one knee, looking down at Crash, rubbing his sore chin~
Smith: Crash couldn’t contain his energy!
Hood: Yea…he almost used it to gain the early advantage. However, that has been seized by Mark Storm.
Smith: Yep…it’s tough fighting two competitors at once, especially at the outset of the match.
Hood: No shit. Maybe this will help control some of the nerves Crash is experiencing.
~Crash tries getting up. Storm pummels him in the head, keeping the newcomer down. Zion rises to his feet, on the outside, leaning over the apron. He peers into the ring, through the ropes to find Storm in charge. Zion hops onto the apron and rises to his feet. He steps through the ropes and snares Storm by the hair, pulling him off of Crash. He hooks him for an inverted DDT. Storm spins around, however, and hoists Zion in the air for a Northern Lights Suplex!! He plants Zion in the mat!!! He tries bridging for a pin but Zion kicks out before Mike can get into position~
Smith: Great suplex by Mark Storm!
Hood: Storm is looking good…is…is that THUNDER I hear?
Smith: We’re inside. That’s impossible.
~Storm flips his hips and gets to his knees quickly. Zion sits up and frantically reaches for the ropes for leverage, to stand. Storm gets to his feet and throws a huge kick into Zion’s back!! Zion arches his back in pain. Storm grabs Zion by the head and yanks him to his feet…Zion’s back is facing Storm. Storm clobbers Zion in the back with a few stiff forearms. Zion stumbles into the ropes. Storm measures him up…before he can do anything, he receives a huge knee into the back!! Storm stumbles into the ropes, next to Zion. The men look at one another before turning around. Crash is back on his feet!! He charges in and clotheslines both men over the top rope, to the outside!!! Zion and Storm hit HARD~
Smith: They forgot about Crash!
Hood: How could you forget about Crash? It was a great film.
Smith: Get serious.
Hood: I am serious. That movie is awesome!
~Storm and Zion stumble to their feet. Crash has his hands on the top rope, waiting. Once he sees his adversaries standing, he takes off…he runs across the ring, bouncing off the ropes…he charges forward. He leaps into the air with a somersault senton over the top rope to the outside!!! Storm and Zion look up…THEY CATCH CRASH! They stumble back and, with wrestling instincts kicking in, they double team Crash, tossing him into the apron with a double powerbomb!!! Crash’s back SMACKS into the apron!!! He bounces a few feet into the air before tumbling to the outside, motionless. Zion goes to grab him but Storm shoves Zion away~
Smith: Great double team by Zion and Storm!
Hood: That’s the type of teamwork that lasts at least thirty seconds.
Smith: Momentary teamwork…happens a lot in these matches.
Hood: Almost like it’s a trope.
~Storm lunges forward with a knife edged chop across Zion’s chest!! Zion stumbles back, nearly tripping over the steps. Storm steps over Crash. He stalks Zion. Storm throws another chop. Zion gathers himself and ducks. Storm spins around. Zion grabs Storm from behind and takes him down, into the barricade with a Russian Leg Sweep!!! The duo hit HARD!! Zion takes almost as much as he gives Storm. The fans at ringside cheer the violence. Mike, inside the ring, looks on~
Smith: Strong move by Zion to stymie Storm’s momentum.
Hood: Mike and Mack have been relatively quiet up to this point.
Smith: Indeed. They have.
Hood: It’s almost like someone wrote this match…forgot they were in it… and had to go back and edit them in.
Smith: Hmm.
~Zion gets up, holding the back of his head. Storm is down. Crash is down. Zion looks up, into the ring at Mike. He slaps his hands together, upset that Mike wasn’t in position earlier for a potential count. He then points at the violence, critiquing Mike’s job of keeping this thing under control. We hear Mack yell from out of view, “HE’S SCREWING YOU, GUY!” Zion looks toward Mack, then back at Mike as if he believes Mack’s words~
Smith: Zion’s been involved in the few moments in which one could question the champ’s refereeing.
Hood: Zion and Mike have a history together. How do I know this, you ask? Because when I turned on Zion’s promo it was flashing in big, bright neon letters.
Smith: Normally I’d berate you for the way you present things but…at least you went out of your way to watch a promo.
~Mike looks down at Zion with contempt, yelling at him to get his head back in the match. He heads over and points at Mack, telling him to shut the fuck up, to the roar ofr the crowd…his anger mounting over the past few weeks. Crash pops up from behind Zion, slamming him face first into the apron. He tosses Zion head first into the barricade and tosses him back into the ring! Crash slides in and goes for a count. Mike snaps back into ref mode…he drops down and makes the count with his right hand~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Whoaaaa!
Hood: Mike tried to fuck Zion…again!
Smith: An unfortunate situation, Hood, but no shenanigans here.
Hood: I think Zion’s right. Maybe he should listen to Mack…
~Crash slaps the mat…he was so close! He grabs Zion by the hair, realizing he has to stay on top of things. He whips Zion into the nearest corner. Zion hits hard. Crash backs up, ready to charge. Mike gets out of the way, accidentally favoring his shoulder. He quickly stops once he realizes what he’s doing. Suddenly, the bell rings. Crash stops, looking around, confused~
Smith: What the?
Hood: Mack’s over here ringing the bell!
~Mack is, indeed, ringing the bell while taking an elongated sip of whiskey. Mike marches toward the corner nearest Mack and motions that he’s about to come out there. Mack stops ringing the bell and does the ‘spooky fingers’ in Mike’s direction. Mike’s jaw clenches…he’s super pissed off. He turns around, remembering that he’s got a job to do. He motions for Crash to continue. Crash starts to take off…but a hand reaches in, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him down. That hand belongs to Mark Storm. Crash hits hard. Storm quickly ascends the corner, from the apron…he leaps off with a double stomp into Crash’s guts. He tucks and rolls, popping to his feet, only to get nailed by a Codebreaker from Zion!!! Storm’s body snaps back! He’s down…Crash is down. Zion pops back to his feet and heads toward Best~
Smith: Zion needs to keep his mind on the match…not Mike Best.
Hood: Yea, what the fuck is this guy’s deal. Did Mike Best fuck his mom or something?
~Zion says something that sounds like “You’re just scared to face me, aren’t you?” Best is nonplussed. He looks around before saying, “What are you talking about? This match is to face Ed Houston you idiot!” Zion doesn’t seem to believe Best. From behind, Crash crawls over and rolls Zion up! Best drops to his knees and makes the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Zion kicked out!! He’s going to blow this opportunity if he doesn’t get his head in the match!
Hood: What is wrong with this guy? It’s like he used Michael Bay’s Pearl Harbor to write an essay on the actual event in history class.
Smith: That…would not turn out well.
Hood: No shit.
~Zion is back up, furious. His anger is partially directed at Mike. He claims the count was fast. Mike is just ignoring Zion at this point. Crash is back on his feet. He delivers a forearm to the back of Zion’s head. He whips him into the ropes and spins around for a discus elbow…Zion ducks, hits the ropes, jumps onto the middle rope, springboards off and looks for roundhouse kick. It connects!!! Crash drops to a knee, stunned. Zion is back on his feet, fired up~
Smith: Despite his mental meandering, Darin Zion remains a major threat to earn the Craze Title shot AGAINST ED HOUSTON.
Hood: The guy is fucking talented. It’s all about focus at this point, Smith.
Smith: Indeed.
~He lifts Crash up, via his foot. He taunts Mike, telling him to ‘watch this’. Crash gets to his feet and Zion spins around, smacking him in the face with The Flash Point!!! Crash…crashes, face first onto the mat. Zion rolls him over. Mike gets into position, making the count~
1!
2!
3…NO!
Smith: Crash kicked out!
Hood: Was that count…slow?
Smith: Absolutely not!
Hood: I think Darin might disagree.
~Darin, in fact, does disagree. He disagrees quite vociferously, actually. He pops to his feet and gets in Mike Best’s face. He’s cursing and screaming…the man is irate. Mike’s doing everything he can to avoid getting physical with young Zion. He’s really in this to call the match down the middle…WHAT A GUY. Zion pokes Mike in the chest…an act NOBODY likes. He turns and heads back toward Crash. Crash is on one knee. Zion lifts him up, placing Crash over his shoulders~
Smith: Zion is looking to hit The Devastation!! If he hits this, it’s over!
Hood: Talk about talented! Guy spends the entire match focused on the wrong man and still wins…Darin Zion says ‘fuck the world’!
~Zion tosses Crash in the air…but Crash grabs him by the head and rolls him over with a Small Package. Mike is in position…he makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Crash countered Zion’s finisher into a near pinfall! Great scouting job by the rookie!
Hood: Was that count fast?
Smith: Absolutely not!
~Zion rushes to his feet. He wants to go after Mike, but he can’t. Crash is already on his feet, ready to fight. The two men begin to brawl in the center of the ring. Crash’s punches are wild and unpredictable. They gain the upper hand on Zion. Zion stumbles into the nearest corner. Crash continues to unload! The fans actually get behind the wild, impassioned violence. Zion slouches…the punches finally wearing him down. Crash takes off…running across the ring…he charges forward, only to receive a boot to the face!! This staggers him. He drops to a knee. Zion looks at Crash, holding his face in pain. But, he heads toward Mike, yelling “what the fuck!”~
Smith: Let it go, Darin!
Hood: He can’t…it seems as though once he focuses on something, there’s no breaking that focus.
Smith: Both a positive and negative characteristic.
~Zion pokes Mike in the chest again. He’s really laying into the OCW Champion. Mack is heard yelling “PUSSY!” from ringside, obviously referring to Mike’s patience with Zion. Mike, finally, has had enough. He jumps up, kneeing Zion in the face!!! Zion staggers back. Crash is behind him. Crash hooks Zion around the waist and throws him over his head with a German Suplex!!! Zion flies through the ropes, landing on the apron, hard, before tumbling to the outside. The fans chant “HOLY SHIT!” Crash pops back to his feet. Mike looks at him as if to say, “Nice move.” He’s impressed. Crash starts to shake…he’s fired up…his energy and adrenaline return. He turns and finds Mark Storm, who is slowly reaching his feet~
Smith: Zion is out!! This is Crash’s chance!
Hood: From rookie to title shot at the ppv? No glass ceilings around here, apparently.
Smith: C’mon, Crash!! A shot at history awaits!
~Storm reaches his feet. Crash snares him by the head, spins to the mat and drops Mark Storm with Twisted Memories!!!!! Storm is out!! Crash makes the cover, Best slides in with the count. The fans count along~
1!
2!
3!!!!!!!!!
~The bell rings. The place pops like crazy~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender for the OCW Craze Championship…“THE CROOKED MAN” CRASH RODRIGUEZ!!!!!
Smith: Crash did it!! He’s going to Redacted!
Hood: Dude was offered an opportunity and he took full advantage. Good on him.
Smith: He just pinned Mark Storm while also besting Darin Zion! What a night for Crash!
Hood: Fucking Zion needs to get his shit together. But, hey, I think we’re all overlooking the most amazing fact.
Smith: What’s that?
Hood: Mack actually rang the bell after the correct finish.
Smith: Oh yea…well, good for Mack, I guess.
~Mike Best steps forward as Crash pulls himself to his feet. Best takes Crash's hand and raises it in the air as Zion and Storm clear the ring, making their way to the back. Outside the ring, Mack stands up from his chair with a devious smile~
Smith: Unsurprisingly, it looks like Mack was down here for a reason.
Hood: Why else would Zybala make him the timekeeper? To entertain us!
Smith: Or to inflict pain on Mike Best.
Hood: Same thing.
~Mack takes one last sip from his flask before tossing it aside. He moves towards the ring, eying up the OCW Champion with bad intention in his eyes.~
Smith: Wait! It's Cecilworth Farthington!
~Smith isn’t wrong-- as Mack slides into the ring behind Best, who is still holding up Crash's hand, CM!F jumps the barricade, determined not to let his buddy down this week. The Paradigm Champ reaches in as Mack stands up, grabbing one of Mack's feet and pulling hard, sending Mack stumbling to the mat! Best lets go of Crash's hand in a flurry and spins around, not surprised at all by Mack's presence in the ring. Mack looks up, bringing himself up to one knee, and makes eye contact with Best. His eyes go wide as Best rushes forward, climbing off his knee and nailing him dead to rights with a running shining wizard!~
Smith: I KNEED A HERO! They were ready for Mack this week! They knew it was coming!
Hood: I’d fuckin’ HOPE SO, Smith. How many weeks can you get the shit beaten out of you before you get a clue?
~Crash leaves the ring with a "Not my fight, not my problem" mentality, while Mike Best stands over Mack, jawing off and talking shit as the crowd goes wild! He begins to lay stomps into his Redacted challenger, as Farthington slides into the ring and joins the assault.~
Hood: What a cowardly attack on Mack O'Connor!
Smith: Mack has spent several weeks now jumping Mike Best. Now he's just getting a taste of his own medicine.
Hood: Fake news, Smith!
~Farthington picks Mack up off the mat, holding him groggily on his knees as the OCW Champion backs up to lay into him with another shining wizard. Mack just can’t shake it off, as hard as he’s trying to get free, and the champion begins a two step approach!
Smith: We’re about to KNEED A HERO again, Hood!
The crowd suddenly rises in an uproar-- at the top of the stage, two familiar faces appear from behind the curtain and onto the stage, charging the ramp! It’s Chad Vargas and Bob Grenier! Best and Farthington notice, glancing at each other and trying to decide if it’s worth it to stay and fight. As Vargas and Grenier hit the ring, Best and Farthington simultaneously slide out. The two pairs begin yelling insults at each other, as a triumphant Best and Farthington make their way up the ramp to the stage~
Smith: Vargas and Grenier have just saved Mack from a savage beating!
~Mack slowly picks himself up, standing in between Grenier and Vargas. Best and Farthington stand next to each other on the stage, Farthington exchanging insults with Grenier and Vargas. Best and Mack remain silent, intensely staring at each other with hatred.~
Smith: Mack has help!! It's Team 2015!
Hood: Minus PerZag
Smith: Yes! Team 2015 MINUS PerZag! They're out here to help Mack against the eMpire.
Hood: I think it's clear that Team 2015 is backing Mack, hoping he's the one to dethrone the eMpire and their reign over OCW.
Smith: Indeed. Can Mack dethrone Mike Best? Is he the one to bring the OCW Title back to an original roster member? Or will Mike Best continue to muscle through the competition? Redacted is LESS THAN TWO WEEKS AWAY! Tune in next week as we hopefully receive more answers as the Redacted puzzle is fully put together!
Hood: Less than two weeks...ah fuck. That means I have to actually prepare for North Korea.
Smith: Indeed...for Hood, I'm Smith saying goodnight everyone!
~We fade to black~
