OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, August 5th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida

~It’s that night of the week again…MONDAY NIGHT! We’ve spent the past few hours surfing the dark side of Youtube and Reddit. Horror stories…paranormal mysteries…unsolved crimes…real super spooky shit. Not gonna lie. We’re kinda creeped out. Every little noise…flicker of light causes a snap of attention, a quickening of breath, a decreased size in penis. The television suddenly turns on. Our eyes widen. IS THIS POLTERGEIST? The OCW logo flashes…oh, whew…that’s right it IS Monday Night! We’re such a die hard OCW fan that we’ve got our tv somehow scheduled to come to life whenever Massacre is about to start. Get on our level. The OCW logo fades into the super sweet Massacre logo before bleeding away to a cut of the sold out OCW Arena!! The fans are going wild chanting “OCW!” “OCW!” A multitude of fans are throwing superkicks…honoring Zybala. Several others are drinking out of flasks. Change is in the air! We instantly cut to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood.

Hood: Fuck, it’s great to be back in Key West.

Smith: Indeed it is! North Korea was an experience but I think I can safely say…for all of us here at OCW, that we are happy to be home.

Hood: Yep, sounds like we had about a 99% return rate.

Smith: Yes, poor Welsh.

Hood: Hey, going over there was his fuckin idea.

Smith: We’re on the heels of Redacted…a foundation shifting event that saw the undefeated Mike Best fall to OCW veteran, Mack O’Connor.

Hood: Mack put the 1 in 16-1!

Smith: Indeed…he did something most thought was unthinkable. He bested Mike Best. We also saw Ed Houston become a two time Craze Champion by outlasting Crash Rodriguez.

Hood: Great match…Crash has gold in his future.

Smith: The greatest feud in human history was capped off by CM!F defeating The Big Bifford via The Great Article 50.

Hood: Farthington is the best gentleman to ever step foot in OCW. Confirmed.

Smith: He’s also the Paradigm Champion. Logan continued his impressive rise up the ranks by defeating Vossler to capture the Savage Title.

Hood: That belt remained with one guy for 8 months. Now, it’s a hot potato.

Smith: Duce and his father Krayzie enjoyed an emotional win over R.O.S.E. and The Dravers. In doing so, Duce and Krayzie capture their first championship success in OCW.

Hood: It took Duce about four months. It only took Krayzie, like, twenty years.

Smith: Better late than never. Lurrr was able to get revenge on Scott Stevens and…

Hood: Yea, let’s talk about it.

Smith: Somebody orchestrated an attack on Andrea Hernandez.

Hood: Somebody? If by somebody you mean ALICE FUCKING KNIGHT then you’re damn right. She knew she couldn’t beat Andrea, so she had a bunch of FREAKS in owl costumes beat her up.

Smith: Alice is innocent until proven otherwise, Hood. She’s too sweet and nice to do something like that…

Hood: She’s the anti-christ, Smith. Her rise is coming and if we don’t stop it, we’ll all be condemned to an eternity of hoots.

Smith: Well, that’s your opinion. Redacted is behind us, everyone…expect some fallout, expect some new faces…expect the unexpected! The road toward Declassified begins…NOW!

~We cut backstage as the cameras zoom in on Mike Zybala’s office door, which looks cleaner than ever after all of Lilith’s graffiti had been washed off a few weeks ago. Inside the office a familiar voice can be heard, which we immediately recognize as belonging to the self proclaimed ONLY legend in OCW, Lilith~

Hood: I'm starting to get a bit jealous of how much time this crazy but super hot woman pays Zybala…

Smith: Really?! No, just… NO!

~We listen on as Lilith continues to talk extremely loudly seemingly to her boss.~

Lilith: Sooooo you're saying I gets to have THREE MILLION dollars per match and ALSO a year pass to Disney World AND Universal Studios andddddddd all the cookies I can ever wants?! Zybala Bear I think you gots a deal!

Smith: Did she just say three million dollars per match?!

Hood: She's worth every cent, Smith.

Lilith: I'd also like it written into my contract that I can challenge for ANY title, at ANY point, at ANY time… and if I don't ACTUALLY want to fight for the championship the current champion just gots to hand me the title cos am MUCH better than them anyhow AND also because I'm Lilith… which is the most important point of all!

~Lilith pauses for a second and then responds sounding even happier than she did before.~

Lilith: Yes, you're super right, Zybala Bear… I AM Lilith! I'm glad some-bear-dy FINALLY noticed. You want an autograph? OH speaking of being Lilith… in my contract I also want it so I am recognized as being the ONLY legend and Hall of Famer in this company! Weak little bitch bears like MJ Ding Dong and Alice the Owl need to get the HELL out! Agreed? Yayyyyy I'm super happiful you agree, Zy---

~At this point someone walks in front of the camera and opens the office door, the camera crew following them inside. This man is instantly recognised as being the REAL Mike Zybala. In the office, in his chair, sits an actual Zybala teddy bear wearing an adorable little business bear suit. Lilith is seated opposite him, now smiling sweetly up at the real Zybala~

Lilith: Oh hi, Zybala! I was just finishing up my contract with the REAL Zybala, you're welcome to join us if you wants? I'm sure he'll give you a super good contract too!

~Zybala shakes his head as he walks over to his chair. He grabs the bear, gently picks it up and places it in a sitting position on his desk to face Lilith. With both the real and fake Zybala facing Lilith, the owner addresses his employee~

Zybala: I see you found our new merchandise. OCW in association with Build-A-Bear presents Wrestle-Bears! All the roster has their own plush bear counterparts and they're available at every merch stand during the shows AND every Build-A-Bear factory nationwide. Plus we have a small B.A.B. stand in the concession area so the fans can get their bears customized any way they want! Of course, each wrestler gets a cut of their bear sells. Also, since you calling everyone a bear led to me having this idea, you get a small cut for each bear sold.

~Lilith shakes her head and starts to laugh as she looks across the table at the boring version of Zybala. She tries to look all serious at him but this just makes her laugh even harder~

Lilith: Let me get this stuffs straight… you want to rip off my bears… make some kinda wannabe bear thinggys… stealing MY stuffs and you'll give me… ME!!! LILITH!!! A “small cut” of the moneys you makes from trying to copy ME?! Nope nope nope nope NOPE!!! You think the bears would EVER want to be with Mikey Worst or Cecilduck?! COURSE NOT!!! They're terrible! So if you want to do this stuffs you'll give me ALL the moneys! ALL the percentages… EVERYTHING!!!

~Lilith pauses and smiles sweetly at Zybala~

Lilith: OR!!! You'll just not do it at alls and instead I'll just shove MY Zybala Bear down your ugly little throat! Beach! Love youuuuuuu, Zybalaaaaaa!

~Zybala chuckles a bit and returns Lilith's smile~

Zybala: Oh Lilith. You don't understand. While you did call everyone bears, you didn't come up with the concept of the teddy bear. I took your quirk of calling people bears, and the fact people love teddy bears, and I came up with this idea. Plus, since it's with Build-A-Bear, everything is copyrighted. Something you didn't have the foresight to do. I legally don't have to give you a cut of anything except for Lilith Bear sales. I'm offering you a 5% cut out of the kindness of my heart.

Lilith: Pfffffft! Okayz okayz fineeeeee! I'll take your stupidly low 5% of all bear rehoming but we gots to rehome A LOT of them! Imma be MEGA rich after all this!

~Zybala reaches down under his desk and pulls out lead pipe~

Zybala: Now, do we haggle and discuss your contact, or do we just go right to the violence?

~Lilith looks down at the lead pipe and lets out a short laugh~

Lilith: I already discussed my contract with Zybala Bear! A super good one was decided! Cookies, Disney World, THREE MILLION DOLLARS PER MATCH… EVERYTHING! But I guess if you wanna talk about it with me too…

~The brunette reaches into her bra and pulls out an extremely girly looking revolver with a pink diamond encrusted grip. She leans back in her chair and points the gun directly at Zybala with a weirdly calm smile on her face.~

Lilith: Let's discuss.

Zybala: That's pretty. I only have a regular 9mm Luger, though the ammo I use is silver because you never know. Anyways, your three mil is a bit too pricey. Hell, we're offering all the OCW champs a thousand per match plus a merch cut. Unfortunately, since you lost at Redacted, you no longer fall under that category. The standard offer is three hundred per match, but I have a special deal for you, Lilith.

~Zybala looks calmly at Lilith, despite the gun, and slides an envelope over to her. Lilith just nods her head, sitting toward in her chair again~

Lilith: Well we both knew this was going to happen, didn't we?! You just couldn't WAIT to rub this stuffs in my face. Yeah… YEAH! We lost at Redacted… Go ahead and laugh, Zybala! LAUGH!!! That match wasn't FAIR and we BOTH knows it! T’wasn’t a triple threat AT ALL!!! It was a damn handicap match! NOT FAIR!!! Had YOU not put us into a TOTALLY NOT FAIR position in the first place we'd STILL be the Champs! We ARE still the Champs! Poop and Daddy Poops win DOESN'T COUNT!!! They won like a bunch of cowardly MOUSES!!!

~Lilith slams her fist onto Zybala’s desk, still pointing her revolver at him, still ignoring the contract deal sitting in the envelope in front of her~

Lilith: You hand my titles back to me right MEOW!!! And then after that you pay me the way I deserve! Do I LOOK “standard” to you, jerk face?! I'M LILITH!!! LILITH!!!

~Zybala slowly lowers his hand to a drawer in his desk. Lilith keeps to gun pointed at him, confused at how he's staying so calm. He pulls the drawer open, reaches in and pulls out an OCW teddy bear. This one is dressed like Lilith, complete with a miniature box of fake cookies. Zybala sits in on his desk next to his teddy avatar~

Zybala: This is Lilith, too. Lilith Bear to be exact. A standard seller at all our stands. But do I think the real article is standard? No, you're not standard at all. You were a champion, and you have the drive to be one again. I'm not making fun of you. I'm telling you not to focus on the title loss. Focus on getting the next title WIN.

~Lilith looks down at the Lilith Bear for several minutes before finally turning her attention back onto her boss.~

Lilith: Wait… WAIT!!! You're telling me… people actually WANT Lilith Bear?! REALLY?!

~Zybala smiles and nods~

Zybala: The Lilith Bear was one of the market prototypes. It was very popular, so we went ahead with the whole operation.

~Zybala places the bears next to each other and looks at Lilith~

Zybala: Do we have a deal, Lilith?

~Lilith continues to look at the Lilith Bear in disbelief for a short while, eventually turning her attention onto the envelope, pulling out the letter within and reading it over quickly.~

Lilith: Soooooo… 5% cut on the bear rehoming… and all this other stuffs in my contract? Okayz, okayz fine. You gotta deal! BUT!!! Know this Zybala Bear… I WILL be getting my titles back at the Area 51 show thinggy and THEN imma get even better stuffs from you! By the way, I look forward to having you deliver my cookies to me on a weekly basis, Mistah Zybala!

~Lilith winks at her boss as she stands up, still pointing the gun directly at his face. She grins wickedly as she steps around the table and stands mere inches away from him, gun pointed at his forehead.~

Lilith: By the way… your bullets might be made out of silver but mine are made out of even more fun stuffs!

~And with that Lilith pulls the trigger, water squirting him in his face, soaking him a little bit.~

Lilith: Water! Anywayyyyyy I'll see ya later, Boss. I gots BIG stuffs to be doing! Byeeeee!

~Lilith smiles and waves as she practically skips out of the room. Zybala wipes off the water and puts the bears away. He pulls out a package of cookies~

Zybala: She needs to learn patience… oh well. I'll get these to her when I gotta use the can.

~We cut back to Hood and Smith at commentary~

Smith: Interesting start.

Hood: That's one way of putting it.

Smith: Lilith is obviously reeling from their tag title loss at Redacted. I have a feeling we haven't heard the last from those two this evening.

Hood: Yea man, Twilight was not pleased with dropping the titles so quickly. You'd be a fool to expect them to just step aside...R.O.S.E. is doing to want a rematch.

Smith: It'll be up to the men in charge, Zybala and Langston as to whether or not that request is granted. In the mean time, let's head down to the ring for our first match POST-Redacted! Robert Uchiha makes his debut against our commissioner, Vincent Langston.

Singles Match
Vincent Langston (29-4) vs. Robert Uchiha (0-0)

~The OCW fans are rabid!! They are happy!! Some are even RELIEVED that their favorite stars all returned SAFELY from Pyongyang, North Korea. And yes, I said all. It was not a misprint…because we ALL know nobody was cheering for Welsh. “OCW” chants echo throughout the OCW Arena in Key West, Florida. Belvedere, center of the ring, appears happier than usual. I suppose spending a handful of days in a place like North Korea might make you appreciate Key West. He clears his throat to a HUGE ovation~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…welcome to Monday Night Massacre!!! The opening contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~As the arena is filled with the sound of pure Weeb energy that is the song "Deja Vu" by Inital D, the fans in attendance pull out their waifu body pillows and Robert Uchiha hits the stage. He starts weaving handsigns at break neck speed. He then punches in place as he, and the crowd, let out a rush of "ORA ORA ORA ORA ORA". The crowd is hyped, and the weeb that is Robert Uchiha walks down the ramp, hand ever ready on his trusty katana that he got from a flea market for a whopping $2,600. As he enters the ring he unsheathes his blade and shows his expertise in the ancient arts of the sword via spasmatic spinning motions. The crowd eats it up. He begins to slice the air in front of him in his almighty power stance. He sheathes his blade and bows, as the crowd scream japanese phrases showing their love for the anime icon, Robert Uchiha~

Belvedere: From The Village Hidden in the Ring…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 150lbs…Robert Uchiha!!!

Smith: Getting our first look at Robert Uchiha who, for some reason, was allowed to bring a SWORD to the ring.

Hood: The guy weighs as much as a cup full of jizz. He needs it.

Smith: He could injure someone!

Hood: Only person he might injure with that thing is himself.

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, D.C....standing 6’4 and weighing in at 230lbs…he is a former OCW Savage Champion…he is the OCW Commissioner…he is…Vincent Langston!!!

Smith: Langston returning to action.

Hood: Yea man, I think people kinda forgot he was an active competitor.

Smith: He’s very much an active competitor, despite his commissioner status. The OCW Title has evaded him in 2019…something I’m sure he’s looking to capture.

Hood: Yea, he’s in the Mix and I’m pretty sure we’ll see him in the Rumble.

Smith: Indeed.

~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~

Smith: And here we go! Langston looking to win his first match since Not Safe For Work.

Hood: Only way he doesn’t win this is if Robert impales himself on that sword and Langston is dq’d for murder.

Smith: Well, let’s hope that doesn’t happen.

~Langston stands, hands on his hips, eyeing Robert. He motions for Scruff to come over. Robert is busy channeling his inner Naruto (or whatever that means…I, the narrator, am old and playing a bit of catch up with Uchiha’s lexicon). Scruff nods and walks over to Robert who is summoning his powers. Scruff manages to grab Uchiha’s focus and informs him that the blade must be removed before battle can commence. Robert seems disappointed~

Smith: A fair request.

Hood: I’d say so. You don’t want to bring fists to a sword fight.

~Sadly, Robert removes his blade and places it outside the ring. He turns to face Langston. Satisfied, the commissioner heads toward Robert. Uchiha suddenly drops to all fours and begins running/galloping around the ring. Langston raises an eye brow…this, is weird~

Smith: What on earth is he doing?

Hood: Let’s be fair, it takes some type of skill to move like that.

Smith: I…I guess.

Hood: Sadly, I think Robert has been misinformed. There are no pizza rolls at the end of this violent rainbow.

~Robert pops to his feet, behind Langston. Vincent turns around, growing annoyed. Upon turning around he’s hit with a palm strike!! Langston’s head jerks to the right. Uchiha holds the pose, eye shut…he breathes in, channeling spirts or powers or whatever. He slowly opens his eyes, looking down on the mat, expecting to find a defeated Langston. Much to his chagrin, Langston is far from defeated…if anything, he’s just getting fired up~

Smith: Young Robert is on the precipice of a serious wrestling lesson.

Hood: Yea, this isn’t some lame ass video game. You’re not going to end Langston with one palm strike.

Smith: I just hope he impressed his Waifu.

Hood: What the fuck is Waifu? I thought he was talking about WiFi and found it odd that an internet connection would come from a pillow.

Smith: *explains Waifu*

Hood: Jesus Christ.

~Langston’s head pivots around. Uchicha swallows hard. He reaches into his pocket, removing an Alka Seltzer. He’s apparently not feeling so great in the digestive region. Langston slaps the bottle away and grips Robert’s throat. He lifts the tiny man up and throws him halfway across the ring, into the nearest corner. Uchiha hits HARD!!! He coughs and winces…leaning forward, arms draped over the ropes. Langston charges in and delivers a crushing elbow which smashes Robert into the corner. Uchiha drops to his ass, wincing…he’s probably wishing he were playing video games~

Smith: And just like an oceanic shelf, things have fallen off a cliff here for young Uchiha.

Hood: Watch a lot of Shark Week?

Smith: A bit.

Hood: Fuck that pondicherry shark.

Smith: Yes, that was a bit of a letdown.

~Langston yanks Robert from the corner and instantly locks him in NO PEACE (Crossface). Robert waves his free hand in the air like crazy. Scruff is confused. Langston cranks back, harder. Robert’s body looks to be on the verge of breaking in half~

Hood: The fuck is he doing…waving at his MOM?

Smith: I think he’s trying to tap out.

Hood: He doesn’t know how to tap out?

Smith: It’s the little things that often go overlooked, Hood.

~Scruff grabs Robert’s arm and shows him the proper way to tap. Robert takes a moment, suppressing the incredible amount of pain he’s feeling to thank Scruff (he is a momma’s boy, after all). He then proceeds to pound the mat furiously. Scruff calls for the bell. It rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner….VINCENT “THE LEGEND” LANGSTON!!!!!

Smith: Easy win for the commissioner.

Hood: You learn something new everyday, Smith. Today, Robert learned how to tap out.

Smith: Indeed.

~Langston releases young Robert…he has no desire toward hurting the inferior man. The commissioner stands and looks down at Uchiha. Something in Langston’s eyes speaks to us. They seem to say, “This man has the X-Factor.” Langston exits he ring. OCW medics hurry to the ring to check on Robert, who seems to be in quite a bit of pain~

Smith: Uchiha feeling some pain after his encounter with Langston.

Hood: You make it sound like he got raped.

Smith: Pick your mind up out of the gutter, man! Strong win for Langston, fun debut for Uchiha…an absolute win to kick off Massacre!

~Treat Cassidy walks into a crowded bar, grinning from ear to ear. He looks around and sees the man he's looking for: Mack O'Connor. With the crowd cheering them on, Mack is squaring off against another bar patron in an arm wrestling match. The man struggles, and Mack finally finishes him off and slams the man's arm back. The crowd generally doesn't approve, but there are a few cheers here and there. Treat walks over as Mack begins to gloat~

Mack: What were you saying, pal? Something about being undefeated, right? Got it.

~Mack laughs to himself, grabbing his beer and chugging the rest of it down. His opponent sulks away. He signals to the bartender~

Mack: Another one, sir!

~Treat walks over, giving Mack a pat on the shoulder~

Treat: Mack! Haven't seen you since we left North Korea! Haven't had a chance to properly congratulate you, my friend! So congratulations! Nice job!

Mack: Thanks, buddy.

~The bartender sets a beer on the bar near Mack. Treat offers up his own credit card~

Treat: Barkeep, don't take this man's money! Drinks on me!

Bartender: Yes, sir. What can I get for you?

Treat: Give me a White Claw. Mango if you got it, Lime if you don't.

~The bartender pauses for a moment, but then turns to go see what he has. Treat turns back to Mack~

Treat: I'm psyched, man. Finally back on top!

Mack: Yup.

Treat: So where is it? I never got a good chance to see it on you.

Mack: Where is what?

Treat: The belt! Show me the belt! I have to get a good picture of you with it on for my social media.

Mack: Oh... Umm...

~The bartender returns, holding a Black Cherry flavored White Claw~

Bartender: Here you go.

Treat: What is this? I'm not trash.

Bartender: This is the only one I have, my friend.

~Treat looks a bit disappointed~

Treat: Fine.

~Treat takes the White Claw can and raises it to Mack, getting everyone's attention~

Treat: To the new world champion! Mack O'Connor!

~The crowd raises their glasses, and they all drink~

Treat: So where is it? Where's the belt?

Mack: Um... I'm not sure.

Treat: What do you mean you're not sure? Did you leave it at home?

~Mack thinks for a moment, trying to figure it out, looking like he's solving a very complicated geometry equation~

Mack: Um... No, not at home... Maybe...

~Treat looks concerned~

Mack: Where is it, Mack?

~They stare at each other for a minute. Mack eventually gives a slow shrug. Treat shakes his head, turning back towards the bar~

Treat: Close me out, please.

~Treat chugs the rest of his delicious White Claw, then turns to the door~

Treat: Lets go, Mack.

~Mack follows quietly: Even he knows this could be bad~

Smith: Did he just lose the OCW Title? The Title Lurrr put ont he map? The title that barely fit around Syren's roid fueled waist?

Hood: I don't know...but he apparently struggles with Geometry.

Smith: I hear that's fairly common.

Hood: Only obtuse people find geometry interesting and useful.

Smith: Well, I certainly wouldn't go that far. Hopefully...I can't believe I'm saying this...hopefully the OCW Champion is able to locate his belt, relatively soon. In the meantime, we head down to the ring for our second match this evening as Trinity Reed makes her debut!

Singles Match
Trinity Reed (0-0) vs. Shootah (0-3)

~The OCW fans are primed for some FRESH action. Fresh action, you say? That sounds like the makings of an in-ring debut! A few middle aged, totally single gentlemen worm their way toward the barricade in hopes of getting an up close view of OCW’s newest star. Belvedere clears his throat~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~“Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang hits. A few fans in the audience dance around – it is a catchy beat. The lonely, single middle aged men sigh with frustration, wondering why…WHY Shootah is getting an entrance tonight. Shootah steps out from behind the curtain wearing football pads. He’s got a helmet under his left arm. He sucks down a breath of faux courage before marching toward the ring~

Smith: Shootah in full gear for tonight’s in-ring encounter.

Hood: Guy’s wising up. If you’re gonna get your ass kicked you may as well level up on the armor.

Smith: I hope this doesn’t become an ongoing thing. This week football pads…next week an armored suit.

Hood: HmmmmmmMMMmmmmm

~Shootah stumbles up the ring steps, looking like a guy learning to use his legs for the first time. He, somehow, manages to enter into the ring through the ropes~

Belvedere: From Hollywood, California…Shootah!!!

~Shootah jumps with fright at the increase in Belvedere’s cadence. He stumbles into a corner, grasping at his chest, attempting to slow his heart rate. “Be still, my shaking heart,” he says~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~“My Woman” by Biting Elbows begins to play. The confident, strong, and beautiful Trinity Reed steps out from behind the curtain, carrying a cup of coffee in her hand. Her focus finds the ring…it locates Shootah. She lasers in on the poor bastard before marching down the ramp. Upon reaching the bottom of the ramp she hears a few cat calls from the sexually frustrated middle aged men hoping to get a close up. She turns and throws her coffee in the face of one of the men. The guy shrieks like a woman before running away. Trinity returns her focus to the ring, heading toward the steps~

Smith: Well, I guess that’s what you get for acting lewd in public.

Hood: Some intern nearly died getting her that coffee, Smith. I think he deserves a raise.

Smith: Intern’s don’t get paid, Hood.

Hood: Huh. No wonder Kenny is always so frustrated.

~Reed enters into the ring, keeping her eyes on Shootah. She loosens up by stretching her arms, working them in and out~

Belvedere: From Boston, Massachusetts…standing 6’0’ tall and weighing in at 180lbs…she is the self-proclaimed Whole F*ckin Business…she is…Trinity Reed!!!

~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~

Smith: And the debut of Trinity Reed has arrived!

Hood: Shootah better get that fucking helmet on. I have a feeling Trinity hits hard.

Smith: Where did you hear that?

Hood: All of her former interns. They requested they remain nameless for fear of being struck again.

Smith: Too bad you just outed them on national television.

~Reed doesn’t waste any time, heading directly for Shootah. Shootah’s eyes turn to saucers. He begins to tremble. He realizes he needs to secure the helmet over his head. He reaches up, fumbling the helmet. He bobbles it…he drops it onto the canvas. He slowly looks up, scared to death. Trinity is standing right in front of him. She casually kicks the helmet out of the ring~

Smith: Well, so much for the helmet.

Hood: Who the hell can’t put on a fucking helmet?

Smith: A scared Shootah, apparently.

Hood: Might as well call him The Intern, Shootah. Because he’s about to get smacked.

~Reed leans in and cracks Shootah in the head with a vicious headbutt!!! Shootah’s knees break…he tries collapsing to the ring, but Reed holds him up via a handful of hair. She grimaces, Shootah’s hair is greasy, dirty, nasty as fuck. But, she’s used to dealing with shit in order to be successful, so she guts through it. She drags him toward the center of the ring~

Smith: Shootah might be out.

Hood: Well he had the right idea with the helmet…but he gets a total F in execution.

Smith: Poor Shootah.

~Reed yanks Shootah to his feet and manages to hoist him up, onto her shoulders. The crowd is impressed by her strength. She suddenly flips Shootah around and drops him with Hostile Takeover (F5)!!!! Shootah is a broken, beaten man. Reed flips him over and shoots both legs, leaving nothing to chance. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…TRINITY REED!!!!!

Smith: Impressive win by Trinity Reed. Did you see the strength she had to lift Shootah up onto her shoulders?

Hood: Shootah has the frame of a crack head, Smith.

Smith: Still, it was impressive.

Hood: Yea, it was…but she needs to work on something else if she’s going to face…pretty much any other man on our roster.

Smith: Well, she’s just getting started, Hood. She’s focused, driven, and determined…I’m sure she’ll do what she needs to be successful.

~The scene switches backstage where lead OCW interviewer, Who'Re stands in front of an OCW Massacre backdrop. Joining her at her sides are the newly crowned OCW Tag Team Champions, Duce Jones and Krayzie. With a sultry smile on her face, she receives her cue.~

Who'Re: I'm back here with Duce Jones and his father, Krayzie...the brand new OCW Tag Team Champions! Congrats on winning the titles at Redacted.

~Duce and Krayzie both smile, the younger Jones adjust his title on his shoulder.~

Krayzie: Thank you… What's your name again?

~Duce quickly intervenes.~

Duce Jones: Ya won't believe ha' if she told ya.. But Miss Lady, we both thank ya fo' havin' us right now.

~Krayzie nods in agreement.~

Who'Re: Fair..

Duce Jones: Howeva'... Tha NEWWWW!!!! OCW Tag Team Champions are in tha buildin'..

Krayzie: That's right son..

~Krayzie reaches over and fist bumps Duce.~

Krayzie: For me, this has been over twenty years in the making. Years of hard work and now I stand here with my son as a champion. A champion in the very company that molded me into the man I am. Besides… my son wanted to make an impact and I'm glad that I was able to help him make it..

Duce Jones: Hell yea.. It's nothin' I cherish mo' than shuttin' a bitch's mouth.

Krayzie: Duce.

~Duce rolls his eyes while adjusting his title.~

Who'Re: While we're on the subject of making an impact...you and your father sent shock waves throughout the wrestling community by showing up at WarGames this past Saturday evening. What was the point of showing up and where do you hope things go from here?

Duce Jones: First of all, fo' tha fans who stayed up ta watch dat shit show, I apologize fo' tha horrible dub job they did ova' my voice which, apparently, wasn't approved fo' their broadcast. As if I'd really speak like dat, right Pops?

~Krayzie rolls his eyes this time.~

Krayzie: I should've kept your ass in Arkansas instead of letting you move back to Memphis..

Duce Jones: What can I say? They're very influential.. But dat's not that point! Pops an' myself are Tag Team Champions.. A feat dat we've both individually accomplished an' now share…

~Duce and Krayzie confidently pat their respective belts.~

Duce Jones: These OCW Tag Team straps.. A feat dat we accomplished togetha'... an' we're not here ta boast or brag..

Krayzie: We're simply here to kick ass and PROVE that we are THE best tag team in this business.

Who'Re: Well you two get a head start as you have the Ministry of Parkness in the main event.

~Duce smiles and looks intensely into the camera. Krayzie hangs and shakes his head, even taking a moment to rub his bald noggin. Duce produces a pair of shades from his jeans pocket and places them over his eyes.~

Duce Jones: Hahahahaaaa! I gotta new name fo' every tag team dat steps in tha rang wit' us. I call 'em pedal pushas! If tha morons would kno' anythang bout it. They'd kno' where we puttin' em!

~Duce points aggressively at the camera, Krayzie throws his arms in the air out of shame and disappointment.~

Duce Jones: Duce an' Krayzie mean bizness in OCW! An' we're gonna take every tag team dat we can OUT!

~Duce is confident and proud, removing the shades from his face. Krayzie looks extremely upset with Duce.~

Krayzie: Blatantly? You ripped the shit off word for word?

Duce Jones: Dat shit was nice huh?

~Krayzie looks over at Who'Re who stands between him and his son.~

Krayzie: It was nice meeting you sweetheart..

~He then looks at Duce, turns and leaves the interviewer and his son standing there. Duce looks over at Who'Re, giving her a quick once over.

Duce Jones: I thought it was funny..

~Duce checks Who'Re out again and follows after his father.~

Smith: It's great seeing those two with tag team gold!

Hood: What was that shit about WarGames?

Smith: Duce and Krayzie showed up at WarGames this past Saturday evening and confronted the HOW Tag Team Champions. An apparent dub job took place on the broadcast, covering up Duce's...well, you know, his unique way of speaking.

Hood: Huh, who was behind the dub job?

Smith: I have no idea...could have been the HOW tag champs. Could have been anyone, really.

Hood: It was probably Frank Stallone.

Smith: I doubt it was Frank Stallone. Tonight the OCW Tag Champions are back in action against the 'pedal pusher' Tony the Spider and his partner, Ubertaker.

Hood: Talk about some WEAK ASS BOOKING

Smith: It's the post Redacted Massacre, Hood. The people in charge need a break...some respite.

Hood: *sigh* I guess...

~Massacre cuts backstage where Andrea Hernandez is seen walking in the hallway as well as she can when you consider the events of Redacted. She’s in far from a good mood all things considered~

Andrea: I swear to god, if I see ONE owl tonight, I will not be happy…

~And sure enough, Andrea has to pause her walk along the hallway due to the sudden presence of a random, owl drawing that someone pinned to the wall. This causes Andrea to merely roll her eyes~

Andrea: Really?

~Andrea shows how she’s not in the mood to be messed with at all as she rips off the drawing from the wall before tearing it in half and tossing it aside. She still can’t get anywhere just yet as a doctor suddenly approaches her with a clipboard and pen~

Doctor: Andrea…

Andrea: What?

Doctor: You do remember that you’re wrestling tonight despite the fact that I made the decision not to clear you, correct?

Andrea: Yeah? And?

Doctor: I need you to sign this waiver freeing OCW from all potential liabilities should you suffer any debilitating injuries tonight in your match against Chelsea LeClair.

Andrea: It’s Chelsea…. CHELSEA! Do you honestly think she’s even capable of injuring me? Please!

Doctor: Well, she does have an obsession with being better than you and making your life a living hell and of course, it’s possible she may be behind the owl attack.

Andrea: Fine! But I’m only doing this so I can have Chelsea out of my life for good so you better understand that!

~Andrea picks up the pen and reluctantly signs the waiver that would enable her to wrestle against Chelsea later in the night. She then brushes by the doctor just to continue to be on her way but then again, she just can’t catch a break as far as this is concerned because now it’s interviewer AKB that is standing in her way shortly after leaving the doctor behind~

AKB: Andrea…

Andrea: What now?

AKB: I just wanted to get your thoughts on Redacted…

Andrea: If you saw what happened last week, you already know. I don’t think there is any need to get my thoughts on it. I don’t know WHO staged that attack. I don’t know WHO is responsible, but I will tell you one thing, I am going to find out who is responsible and I am going to get my revenge. I don’t give a damn who they are, they’re not going to get away with it, especially because I have never been, nor will I ever be, the kind of woman that lets anyone get away with anything. That was a dream match for me that was taken away all because of the selfish actions of ONE person… and that person… if they value their career… they better be praying to God that I don’t find out who they are.

AKB: Of course, if you need some help, Jack Puffer can always be on th….

Andrea: FUCK JACK PUFFER! The guy’s as much of a hack as a professional wrestler as he is a detective. He’s not going to solve SHIT! Now are you going to be serious about this or should I just tell you to fuck off right now?

AKB: Easy… easy… hey, I feel you. What happened to you was pretty brutal. Even Alice Knight herself has been suspected of this…

Andrea: Right… and I really hope it’s not her because she’s never seemed like the kind of person to pull that.

AKB: But what if it is?

Andrea: That’s a possibility I don’t even want to think about to be honest. Of all the people on the roster… I just… I can’t. It’s hard for me to even ENTERTAIN that possibility.

AKB: You don’t think Chelsea may have something to do with it?

Andrea: It wouldn’t surprise me but knowing her like I have all these years, considering her stupid display of nonsense with her owl mascots and Hooters cheerleaders, I strongly doubt that she’s even smart enough to pull that off. Still… she’s going to be the one suffering the wrath of my anger tonight whether she’s responsible or not. I can’t wait for that embarrassment of a professional wrestler to be out of my life forever! So… to any non-Chelsea possibility out there responsible for the assault… what happens to her tonight… will happen to YOU 10 times worse…

~Andrea gives one more brush off, this time to AKB who knows better than to try to stop her considering the massive amount of anger she’s clearly exhibiting. Once she disappears, the scene fades to black~

Smith: Andrea is furious and she has every right to be. She had a dream match taken away.

Hood: It was Alice. It was totally Alice. Hey, Smith

Smith: WHAT

Hood: You know how when you're watching a thriller and there's that really obvious suspect. And then, at the end, it turns out that the culprit is the really obvious suspect? Alice is the obvious suspect.

Smith: I REFUSE to indulge your fantasies. I just know that we WILL get to the bottom of this attack and I will laugh...you hear me? I will LAUGH when it's revealed be someone not named Alice Knight.

Hood: Well, it'll be no laughing matter, then.

Smith: I hate you. Ahem, anyway, it's time for our next match, folks as Logan, the brand new Savage Champion, takes on The Road Dawg...a man who tried to, sorta, kinda murder Logan last week in Pyongyang. Let's head down to ringside!

Singles Match
Non-Title
Logan © (10-1) vs. The Road Dawg (1-1)

~The fans stand around, enjoying a very nice, relaxed Monday evening. Post PPV Massacres are always chill…a great opportunity to take a breath, enjoy a beer, shamelessly hit on the married woman next to you – good times. Belvedere clears his throat~

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

KEEP ROLLIN ROLLIN ROLLIN ROLLIN! KEEP ROLLIN ROLLIN ROLLIN ROLLIN!! KEEP ROLLIN ROLLIN ROLLLIN ROLLIN!!!!

~The ROAR of a heavily fueled bike tears through the OCW Arena atmosphere. The signature bike belonging to The Road Dawg growls into view, coming to rest at the top of the stage. The Road Dawg looks to his left. He looks to his right. He snarls and spits a big wad of brown spit onto the stage before leaning forward, working the handles and burning rubber!!! The back wheel spins and spins, creating way too much dust before the bike shoots down the ramp. The short trip is made even shorter thanks to The Road Dawg’s reckless acceleration. He jerks the handle bars to the left, coming to a sharp stop in front of the ring. Pretty impressive in a very Ace Ventura type manner. The Road Dawg kills his bike and stands up, raising one fist~

Smith: The Road Dawg back in action! It’s nice to see that he managed to evade North Korean authorities last week.

Hood: He tried to make a statement, Smith. I don’t know what that statement was…we never found out due to Great Scott’s interference.

Smith: I think it’s pretty clear that The Road Dawg was looking to hit Logan in the head with a weapon while speeding toward him on his unnecessarily loud motorcycle.

Hood: Maybe he was going to scoop Logan up and give him a ride to a local medical facility. Not everybody is a bad person, Smith!

Belvedere: From Parts Unknown, NA...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 220lbs…he is The Road Dawg!!!

~The Road Dawg marches up the steel steps and enters into the ring. He stomps around the canvas yelling about yards and dawgs~

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, the Savage Title is secured around his waist. 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 to follow Logan as he 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 Sharpe finds herself in the ring first, sitting on the middle rope for her love. Logan hits ringside, climbing the ring steps, and getting inside the ring stepping through the middle rope that Crystal has lowered without acknowledging her. Logan climbs the nearest turnbuckle, gazes around at all the fans booing at him, and he raises his arm up into the air. After a moment, Logan finally steps down, taking off his vest and throwing it to the outside, and then paces the ring while Crystal takes her place at the apron outside and the music fades~

Belvedere: From Chesapeake, Virginia…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 250lbs…he is the OCW Savage Champion…he is LOGAN!

~Logan removes his Savage Title, handing it over to Belvedere, who exits the ring. The bell sounds~

Smith: Can Logan keep his momentum going or will The Road Dawg secure the biggest win of his OCW career?

Hood: Please…that’s like asking if a third party candidate will win the presidential election.

Smith: Some have gotten…kinda close.

Hood: You’d have a better chance of breaking through whatever hellish friend zone you’re currently immersed.

Smith: My personal life is not for public debate!

~TRD looks ready to maul Logan. That is, until his attention is diverted. Sharpe, on the apron, places her foot on the seat of TRD. TRD is curious. She runs her foot along the leathered surface~

Smith: What is she doing?!

Hood: Isn’t it obvious? She wants a menage with The Road Dawg and Logan.

Smith: How is that obvious?

Hood: You have to read the foot language, Smith. And that foot is saying “Three way, let’s go.”

~Crystal manages to get her foot under the seat, gaining some leverage. She kicks forward, knocking the bike over! This act evinces hate, anger, and RAGE from TRD~

Smith: She kicked his bike over!

Hood: Casus belli…

Smith: Casus belli?

Hood: Casus belli.

~TRD’s eyes flare…he yells ‘BITCH!’ and heads toward Crystal. He begins to step through the ropes. Crystal hops off the apron. Logan runs forward and knees TRD in the ribs!!! TRD is stunned, leaning over the middle rope, which sets precariously between his legs. Logan snares the middle rope and yanks up, racking TRD’s crotch!!! TRD rolls into the ring, curled up, wincing in pain. Logan looks down at Crystal. Her eyes gleam for approval. Logan half scoffs and turns around, focusing on TRD~

Smith: She needs to get away from that man.

Hood: Don’t worry, Logan took care of that man. Crystal is safe.

Smith: I’m talking about Logan…he’s a horrible influence on Crystal.

Hood: She’s dating a champion, Smith. Would you rather she slum it and date someone like Vic Vinegar?

Smith: I don’t know enough about Mr. Vinegar to have an educated opinion.

~Logan kicks TRD in the head, keeping him down. TRD tries to fight to his feet. Logan brings his leg back, going for a soccer style kick. TRD rises to his knees. Logan throws the kick…but TRD catches the leg!! He throws the leg to the side, staggering Logan. TRD lunges forward with a lariat…but Logan ducks and hooks TRD in a sleeper!!! He flips over, dropping TRD with The Connector!!! TRD’s head snaps back! He hits the mat hard. Logan makes the cover~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Smith: Easy win for Logan.

Hood: The Road Dawg might have had better luck facing those North Korean officials.

Smith: I think Marcus Welsh would disagree.

~Sharpe rushes around the ring, snaring the Savage Title. Logan, on his knees, grabs TRD’s face with his hands and begins ripping and tearing at every orifice and/or vulnerable area. TRD kicks his legs, yelling in pain. Sharpe slides into the ring, handing Logan his belt. Logan gladly accepts. He raises the belt high, looking to bash TRD’s face in. Before he can bring it down…the crowd gives an unnatural reaction~

Smith: What’s got this crowd reacting this way?

Hood: It certainly isn’t anything going on inside the ring.

Smith: Indeed…I…hold on…IT’S ERIC DANE!

~Indeed. It is, Eric Dane. The Only Star is power marching down the ramp with an “I’m not fucking around” look on his face. Logan spots Dane. His eye widens. He slowly gets to his feet, holding the Savage Title. Crystal gets to her feet, as well. She tries to stand behind her man~

Smith: Eric Dane participated in War Games over the weekend.

Hood: Yea, I don’t think he was pleased with his performance.

Smith: He’s a warrior, Hood. A competitor…of course he wasn’t pleased. And now…now it looks as though he wants to take those frustrations out on the Savage Champion!

Hood: Well, the last time we saw Dane he was gunning for that title.

~Dane stomps up the steel steps, very much moving around like the final boss that he truly is. He steps through the ropes and stares down Logan. Logan swallows hard…he gathers the loose strap of his Savage Title, readying it as a weapon. Dane, giving zero fucks, walks toward Logan. Dane’s unflinching, fearless, angry demeanor stifles Logan’s aggression. He responds by grabbing Crystal and throwing her at Dane~

Smith: What a coward!

Hood: Hey, behind every great man is a woman willing to take a beating.

Smith: That is awful.

~Eric has no use for Crystal. He casually pushes her aside and continues marching toward Logan. Logan backs into a corner…he’s trapped. So, he lashes out, lunging forward with the Savage Title. Dane ducks!! Logan turns around and Dane DRILLS him in the head with a right hand!! Logan stumbles into a corner, dazed. Dane marches toward Logan with a visible thirst for violence~

Smith: This could get ugly really quickly.

Hood: Logan didn’t expect this, that’s for sure.

Smith: I don’t think anybody did, Hood. Eric Dane, as far as we knew, had set up permanent residence in Tampa.

Hood: I think we can all agree on one thing…the man hates the taste of Yuengling.

~Eric’s frustrations are boiling over. He looks ready to eviscerate the stunned, unprepared Savage Champion. That is, until The Only Star is hit from behind!! He stumbles forward a bit…his jaw tightens, he slowly turns around to face The Road Dawg~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Damnit, Road Dawg…quit fucking up!

~A smarter man than he gets credit for, Logan seizes this opportunity to drop to the mat and slide out of the ring. He, along with Crystal, rush around the ring and head up the ramp, putting as much distance between them and Dane as possible. Eric is too focused to notice. The Road Dawg is now the object of his nefarious desire. TRD throws a punch…Dane blocks it and lifts a knee…a Virbranium knee!!! He hits TRD right in the gut. TRD coughs and collapses to one knee, paralyzed with pain~

Smith: That knee brace! That darn thing should be outlawed!

Hood: Why? So Dane can tear his ACL? You’re heartless, man.

Smith: There are plenty of knee braces in existence that aren’t comprised of dangerous metal.

Hood: Yea, but Eric’s knee is so damn powerful…vibranium is the only substance that can hold it in place.

Smith: I have my doubts.

~Eric hooks TRD by the waist. He hoists him up with ease and heads toward the edge of the ring. He throws TRD from the ring!!! TRD descends upon his bike via a powerbomb to the outside!! He lands atop his bike HARD!!! TRD is down…the bike appears wrecked. Eric looks down at TRD…his anger, frustration…his rage remains~

Smith: Eric Dane just powerbombed The Road Dawg from the ring onto his bike!

Hood: Dude’s not fucking around, Smith.

Smith: Oh my gosh! If I were Logan I’d take the rest of the night off.

Hood: Rest of the night? Try the rest of the Pay Per View period. Eric Dane is out for blood!

~Dane doesn’t appear finished. He steps through the ropes and hops off the apron, to the floor. A hoard of OCW security rush into view, grabbing Dane and forcing him against the apron. Dane throws security members around…the man is uncontrollable!! Thankfully, the dozen or so security members are enough to prevent Dane from murdering The Road Dawg. They are able to force Dane up the ramp while The Knife Man tends to TRD’s injuries. Dane picks one of the security members up and throws him from the stage to the cold, hard, unforgiving floor. The fans start to boo The Only Star. He doesn’t give a shit. The man realizes his path toward TRD is blocked…so he turns and heads backstage, perhaps in pursuit of Logan~

Smith: That man needs to be put in captivity…some place safe until he can calm down.

Hood: Calm down? Fuck off, man. Dane’s a legend in this business…he’s won more titles than the most popular video on Pornhub has views. It’s about fuckin time this man got the respect he deserves!

Smith: Well, he’s certainly made an impact tonight. The man is unbeaten in OCW…with one of those wins coming against Hall of Famer, Bob Grenier. Will all of this be enough to garner a Savage Title shot? Or, will he be forced to further prove himself?

Hood: Give him the shot!

Smith: I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what Commissioner Langston and Owner Mike Zybala have to say about all this. In the meantime, let's cut to some footage from earlier today.

~We cut to the parking lot where THE KNIFE MAN is spotted walking, proudly toward the OCW Arena. If he weren’t wearing an emotionless mask we’d probably see a giant smile plastered across the benevolent man’s face. Sadly, we’re forced to pick up, solely, on body language to gauge this man’s mood. He’s strutting…he’s marching…he even takes the time to do a full, three hundred sixty degree pivot spin, showing off his panache. Jones looks over and points at him~

Jones: Look at The Knife Man Go!

~The Knife Man does the ‘kliq’ double hand point (his right hand wielding the giant, deadly knife). He continues to strut, whistling a catchy tune. Cap Slock lowers a pair of shades down the bridge of his nose upon seeing The Knife Man~

Cap Slock: LOOK AT HIM GO! LOOKING GOOD, KNIFEY!

~The Knife Man does the ‘double gun’ salute toward Cap Slock, somehow managing to keep the dangerous, giant, murderous weapon under control. He resumes his strut…he is the COCK OF THE WALK this Monday afternoon. AKB spots The Knife Man…he yells out~

AKB: Wa-hoa! Somebody’s getting their dick sucked tonight!

~We can almost see The Knife Man’s mask blushing. Who’Re steps into view. The Knife Man comes to an abrupt halt…his giant blade flails around due to the force, deceleration, and gravity…however that shit works. If you listened to OCW Radio you know I’m no science whiz. The Knife Man chuckles, reaching for his heart~

The Knife Man: My dearest, Who’Re! You gave me quite the fright, cutting in there like that!

Who’Re: I’m so sorry, Knifey! I just wanted to get a word about your apparent promotion…how are you feeling?

The Knife Man: Democracy is a beautiful thing, Who’Re. The people have spoken and they have decided that I, The Knife Man shall…

~“The Stroke” by Billy Squire begins to play, loudly. It interrupts The Knife Man’s train of thought. He and Who’Re turn to find a rocket red convertible cruising into view. It comes to rest across several parking spots. The driver’s door opens and a foot covered by a very expensive, very modern shoe hits the pavement. We slowly pan up to find a well dressed man. Skinny jeans cover his lower half…his upper body is consumed by a sports coat which loosely hugs a rocket red t-shirt that says “JOCK REASONING” on the front. As we get to the man’s neck and head, we see a well manicured face, a pair of expensive shades, and thick, gelled hair. The man (Jock Reasoning) slams his door shut and marches toward The Knife Man, who seems taken back by his ostentatious arrival. Who’Re is smiling~

Jock Reasoning: Did somebody ask for JOCK Reasoning?

~Jock chuckles. He shoves his way in front of The Knife Man, consuming the interview. The Knife Man shuffles into the background, dumbstruck~

Who’Re: JOCK REASONING! We haven’t seen you since Survivor!

Jock Reasoning: Yes, life has been busy for Jock. But, it appears as though OCW needs a man with reason. A man with that jocular sense of camaraderie. OCW is in need of JOCK REASONING. Apparently some poll was started, asking who should fill this new role…the role of blatant exposition. I forget who won it…it’s not really important. The important factor is that OCW came to their senses and sent for JOCK Reasoning.

The Knife Man: Uhm, excuse me, Mr. Reasoning, if I may…

~JOCK turns around and looks at The Knife Man as if to say ‘who the fuck is this guy?’ Jock pats The Knife Man on the chest and hands him the keys to his car~

Jock Reasoning: You must be the valet. My car is over there, hoss. Take good care of it and there’s an extra five spot in it for ya. Now, if you two don’t mind, I’ve got some splainin’ to do.

~Jock struts toward the OCW Arena. He walks past AKB, giving the man a BRO fist bump. We cut back to Who’Re. She looks at The Knife Man. His knife, once pointed up, toward the heavens…is now hanging limply, facing the ground. His shoulders slump…he sulks toward Jock’s car, prepared to park it. We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Poor Knife Man

Hood: When did people start calling him knifey?

Smith: You should spend more time backstage...maybe go out for drinks with the staff.

Hood: No thanks, I see enough of you people on Mondays.

Smith: Rumor has it #JusticeforKnifeMan is trending nationwide...or, at least, within a 10 mile radius of OCW HQ. Let's hope The Knife Man is compensated for the emotional trauma he is currently enduring.

Hood: Hey, it was the right call. Jock is a way better expositionist...is that a word? Whatever, we're going with it. He's way better at that shit than some dude in a mask.

Smith: Democracy continues to wilt, one day at a time.

Hood: You can take the fed out of North Korea but you can't take North Korea out of the fed.

Smith: I..I guess.

~The arena is roaring when the lights go dim without a warning and silence settles in. A few seconds pass when suddenly the opening riff of “21st Century Schizoid Man” replaces the vacuum of silence and with it the adoring chants pouring from the audience~

Hood: These fans are cheering Crash. He may have lost at Redacted but both his personalities seemed to win over a ton of fans.

Smith: I don’t think it’s very nice to joke about a person’s psychological issues. Having said that, Crash put on one heck of a performance at Redacted. He’s a true star in the making. Some are even speculating that he’s in for the biggest push in wrestling history.

Hood: A golden push the size of an iceberg, perhaps?

Smith: I cannot speculate.

~Crash Rodriguez makes his way to the ring microphone in hand, his crown of barbed wire hanging loosely atop his head. He rolls into the ring rather lazily before sitting cross-legged in the center of the ring. He rocks back and forth as the crowd continues to shower him in applause. The young rookie taps the top of the mic before bringing it to his lips~

Crash Rodriguez: “Hello… As you can see I’m fairly alright. You know, since coming home after Redacted, after the loss at the hands of Ed Houston, I would be lying if I said I’m only a tad disappointed in myself. No. I’m very upset with myself because I know that I had more to give! I know for a damned fact that I had much more fight in me. Ed… We sent each other to hell and back again, but somehow you came out the victor. I spent the last few days licking my wounds and thinking. THINKING! Why? Why did I not walk out with my hand raised? Until this morning when it hit me. You fought for something. Somehow the idea of a gold belt gave you enough hope to fight. What was I fighting for? I honestly couldn’t say… But Ed, Mr. Spaceship or whatever you call yourself. I think you should come out here and hear what I have to say.”

~Crash lowers his microphone hoping to be met in the ring by Ed Houston. The sound of a rocket taking off fills the arena. It is followed up by “You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid,” a moment later as Ed Houston heads to the ring. The crowd is almost exactly split. Some fans passionately cheer while others haven’t forgiven Ed for his recent antics. Ed doesn’t seem to mind, he’s proudly wearing the Craze Championship around his waist. He points to it several times before sliding into the ring. He reveals a microphone and smiles at Crash~

Ed Houston: “Oh Crash. It’s Mr. Rocket Man to you and I reached a very important settlement with Paramount to make sure that nobody forgot it. So I would appreciate it if you could remember it. This gold belt did spur me to victory and man it feels great to be a champion once again. I have a few minutes of free time tonigh so what’s on your mind, street rat?”

~Crash rises to his feet, his face is hidden behind his long tangled hair. He brings his mic to his lips and speaks~

Crash Rodriguez: “Whatever you say, Eddy. I must admit, you won. You got that gold to prove it. And as I said earlier, I was pondering how… Why I lost. I can only sum it up to one simple thing. You wanted that silly gold belt, to somehow justify your self-worth. You wanted your glory. At first, I thought it was foolish but now I want something. I want that Craze Championship. Ed, you have to admit I pushed you to your limit, and you brought the big guns yourself. You refused to die. YOU REFUSED TO GO THROUGH THAT DAMNED TABLE! Yet, I feel there’s still some unsettled business between us. You won the first battle, but to me, this is war now.”

~Crash drops his mic to the floor as the crowd erupts hoping to see another battle between the two, he stares at Ed Houston, anticipating his response Ed smiles~

Ed Houston: “It’s good to see you realize that this is what matters.”

~Ed holds up his Craze Championship~

Ed Houston: “You might have come close last week but I didn’t go through the table and instead you did. You crashed and burned. You might be the top newcomer here or whatever but you gave me your best shot and didn’t take me out. You might want another shot, the fans might want another shot but I don’t want to give you another shot. This is my championship now. If Mike Best can just pick and choose contenders I can too and I will never choose you.”

~Houston drops his mic to the ground and stares a hole through Crash. The crowd boos, wanting to see another battle between these two that seemingly won’t take place anytime soon. The two men stare each other down, neither breaking eye contact until Crash finally leaves the ring and walks up the ramp angrily~

Smith: These two went to war one week ago. It appears as though their issues are far from settled.

Hood: Yea, too bad they weren't "randomly" paired in the MIX.

Smith: That would have been something. But, you bring up a good point, Hood...these two could cross paths in the Mix.

Hood: I always bring up good points.

Smith: I wouldn't go that far.

~The camera shot changes to backstage, inside Zybala's lavish suite. Zybala is nodding about what he's just seen, taking it in, before turning back around in his chair to look behind him. Standing there, looking a little frustrated, is the OCW Commissioner, Vincent "The Legend" Langston. Who knows how long he has been waiting there.~

Zybala: So where were we?

Vincent Langston: I don't remember starting.

~Zybala laughs, and then gestures towards the seat sitting to the side. Langston stares at it as if it was a pincushion, but finally pulls it over and takes a seat on the very edge. His military training makes it hard to relax. Zybala studies him for a few seconds before continuing.~

Zybala: Look, Vincent, it's time we came to an understanding. We've had our differences. You took the Commissioner position away from me. I made some.. decisions that you weren't happy with.

Vincent Langston: You cost me the Savage Title, and you made me be a referee at a pay-per-view instead of letting me wrestle.

Zybala: No, I gave you the match that you had been asking for, and I gave you the opportunity to choose your own opponent if you wanted to go back for the Savage Championship once again. I approve of your choice of Logan, by the way, nice choice.

Vincent Langston: Logan.. is a question for another day.

Zybala: True, true. Because we are talking business. With Marcus unfortunately.. detained, you and I are now running things here in OCW. We need to find a way to work together, to make this company the greatest it can be. Marcus and I never saw eye to eye, and it hurt the organization. We don't need to do that, do we? After all, this is all about your niece, right? Earning a good living for her sake?

~Langston doesn't say anything, just staring, but Zybala takes this as a sign of encouragement.~

Zybala: If you find a way to be more reasonable in your decisions, and you run OCW in the correct way, I see no reason why there needs to be too many vetoes. See, I want us to work together. So what do you say? Truce?

~Zybala extends his hand towards Langston, waiting. It takes a few moments, but Langston finally, slowly, reaches his hand out as well, shaking Zybala's hand briefly. Zybala grins and leans back in his chair, happy.~

Zybala: That's the right decision, Commissioner. We're going to make OCW great again. Declassified is going to be incredible! We'll meet again later!

~Zybala turns away, looking back through his large window towards the arena. Langston stands, still looking down at the hand that shook Zybala's. He turns towards the door, still open, and departs the office to parts unknown.~

Smith: Finally, some managerial cohesion.

Hood: For now

Smith: What do you mean, for now?

Hood: Once Langston starts actually DEALING with Zybala...he will fee Welsh's pain.

Smith: I'd imagine Welsh is feeling a lot of pain right now.

Hood: Too soon, Smith. Too soon.

Smith: It will be interesting to see how this dynamic plays out over the next several weeks. In the meantime, friends are about to do battle. The justifiably angry Andrea Hernandez continues her crusade against the anonymous, owl clad attackers as she takes on OCW's version of TMZ, Chelsea LeClair!

Singles Match
Andrea Hernandez (13-5) vs. Chelsea LeClair (5-3)

~"Chelsea" by STEFY hits and the crowd boos loudly as Chelsea LeClair comes through the curtains accompanied by her publicist Cynthia Winters, who is carrying a clipboard. Chelsea scoffs on the stage before she and walks down the ramp with Cynthia walking behind her, completely ignoring the fans as she wastes little time getting into the ring. Once she gets there, she walks up the steps and stands on the apron, pausing for both a quick photo op with photographers conveniently stationed at ringside and to soak in some more heat from the crowd. Scoffing once more, she steps between the ropes and heads for the corner, ready to take care of business~

Belvedere: This contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, from Anaheim, California… Chelsea LeClair!

Smith: This match for Chelsea is absolutely personal! She has always felt like she’s in Andrea’s shadow and now she’s got the chance to prove that she can be just as good if not better.

Hood: Honestly, I think she IS better…

Smith: You’ve got to be kidding me…

Hood: You can’t disparage such natural talent. Personally, I find Chelsea very entertaining and I think the powers that be favor Andrea and are holding this bright young lady back…

Smith: You must be out of your mind if you think that’s anywhere near true. Chelsea is talented, no doubt… but maybe she’d be in a better position if she actually tried… instead of wasting her OCW career as an Internet troll…

~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She she acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for what comes next~

Belvedere: And from Sedona, Arizona…. Andrea Hernandez!!!!

Smith: I’m surprised that Andrea can even wrestle tonight considering that assault she suffered last week in Korea.

Hood: The doctor didn’t even clear her! She can’t be in that much of a good shape to compete here tonight. It’s not only the assault… but this melodramatic bitch is actually wrestling her first match since NSFW…

Smith: And that has anything to do with this because…

Hood: Princess Melodrama is probably suffering from psychological issues from NSFW still that plus not being 100%... yeah, I think Chelsea’s going to shock the world.

Smith: You need to quit living in the past. Andrea’s grown well past allowing herself to be a victim. This is personal for her too… considering how much she wants Chelsea out of her life for good.

~The bell rings and Chelsea makes a beeline right for Andrea who simply sidesteps Chelsea’s sudden attempt at a shoulder tackle. Chelsea pauses right before she crashes into the turnbuckle, but when she turns around, Andrea plants her with a hard forearm to the jaw that sends her right into the corner. Andrea fires some hard rights at Chelsea right in the jaw as the referee’s concern grows. He goes in to interrupt but Andrea stands back before he can even begin a five count. Chelsea drops to her knees in the corner and Andrea grabs her around the waist and throws her over her head with a release belly to belly suplex. Chelsea lands hard on her back and tries to roll away but it’s to no use as Andrea kicks Chelsea right in the ribs to stop her, before pulling her up by the hair then picking her up off the mat and dropping her with a vertical suplex. She then runs toward the ropes, bounces off of them and lands a springboard moonsault right into the first cover of the match….~

1…

2….

No! Chelsea kicks out!

Smith: Andrea is starting off as if she’s having little effects at all from that assault… and it doesn’t look like she’s “psychologically affected” by NSFW like you were speculating…

Hood: Who cares? It’s early! I wouldn’t anoint her just yet! She’s wrestling like she’s on raging PMS right now…

Smith: Did Chelsea pay you to drop that line?

Hood: I’m not answering that. GO CHELSEA!

~Andrea looks pretty pissed about this as she locks in a sleeper hold and drags Chelsea up to her feet before lifting her up and slamming her into the mat with a facebuster. Andrea is all business as she walks back to the corner and goes to the top rope. Chelsea struggles to get up, but she’s able to do just that. Andrea then leaps off the top rope hoping for a forearm strike, but Chelsea moves out of the way and Andrea lands on her feet. Still, Chelsea walks up to her from behind and grabs her, hitting a release German suplex. Andrea lands near the corner and she winds up sitting up, but she has no time to breathe as Chelsea screams “DIE BITCH” as she runs at her with a running knee to the skull. Andrea goes down and Chelsea continues to let her have it with repeated stomps to the chest.~

Chelsea: I’M BETTER THAN YOU!!!! I’VE ALWAYS BEEN BETTER THAN YOU!!!!!

Hood: YEAH! YOU TELL THAT BITCH!

Smith: I think Chelsea is the one that’s psychologically scarred right now…

~Chelsea lifts up Andrea and then with that she nails her with a Fisherman’s suplex right in the center of the ring, directly leading into a cover~

1

2

Andrea kicks out!

Chelsea: FUCKING DIE ALREADY!!!!

Hood: YEAH! FUCKING DIE!

Smith: You didn’t have sex with the woman, did you?

Hood: ...unfortunately, I couldn’t get that far…

Smith: Oh for the love of god...

~Chelsea climbs to the top rope and she’s got a smirk on her face. She looks down at Andrea and then screams “CANCELLED” at her.~

Hood: YES! She’s looking to finish this early!

Smith: I don’t think this is such a good idea…

Hood: SHUT UP SMITH!!!! You are watching GREATNESS about to ascend to her destiny!!!!

Smith: She must have paid you GOOD MONEY to kiss her ass…

~She then leaps off the top rope to attempt the corkscrew moonsault finisher of hers… but Andrea blocks it with her knees.~

Hood: NO!!!!!!

Smith: Well… maybe if she didn’t scream out her finisher before she went for it… that wasn’t smart…

Hood: SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!!!!

~Chelsea rolls away holding her ribcage and in quite some pain and Andrea stands up with a really pissed off look on her face. Chelsea is slowly able to stand but Andrea grabs her and plants her right into the mat with an STO. Andrea maintains the angry look in her eyes as Chelsea gets to her knees. Andrea responds with a straight running Busaiku knee kick right into the chest that causes Chelsea to fall face down on the mat. After this, Andrea applies a camel clutch just to torture Chelsea in the middle of the ring~

Smith: This is not Andrea’s typical style! She’s certainly wrestling pissed off tonight!

~Chelsea screams out in pain, but Andrea is having none of it as she just pulls back on the move even more. The referee asks Chelsea if she’s going to quit, but Andrea doesn’t even let her respond as she drags up Chelsea from the mat and then plants her with a full nelson facebuster!~

Hood: What has gotten into this wannabe telenovela jumping bean?

~Chelsea seems to be out. Andrea sits next to her and glares at Chelsea… still with anger in her eyes~

Smith: Andrea can go for the cover here...

~Rather than go for the cover, Andrea instead applies a Fujiwara armbar on the left arm. Chelsea isn’t even responding initially but soon enough she’s screaming in pain at the torture she’s going through. Chelsea is not making any effort at all to get to the ropes as Andrea just pulls back on the arm even harder. As soon as the referee drops down to check on Chelsea, Andrea breaks the hold on her own.~

Hood: Bitch, what’s your problem? What is your childhood trauma?

Smith: I think Andrea’s just wanting to torture Chelsea now… I’ve never seen her this angry.

~Chelsea rolls away holding onto her left arm. She slowly stands up but Andrea is giving her absolutely no room to breathe as she kicks her right in the gut, grabs her, runs to the ropes, bounces off of them and connects with a springboard DDT! Andrea turns Chelsea over… briefly thinking about a cover… but instead she stands up and steps through the ropes.~

Hood: And she throws away ANOTHER chance to win?

~Standing on the apron, she hears cheers from the crowd that knows exactly what is coming next. Chelsea is barely able to breathe as she slowly and gingerly gets up and once she does, Andrea springboards off the ropes right into the SKY HIGH! The finisher connects with perfection right into the cover…~

1…

2…

~Andrea breaks up her own pin…~

Smith: WHAT? Why’d she do that?

Andrea: Screw you, bitch!

Hood: Okay, now you’re just running up the score...

~Andrea then applies… the TTFO?!?!?!?~

Smith: The TTFO!!! Andrea has Chelsea trapped in her OWN FINISHER!

~Andrea bridges Chelsea’s own submission move against her that leads to Chelsea screaming in pain and she taps out immediately.~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…. ANDREA HERNANDEZ!!!!

Smith: Holy crap… she just tortured and humiliated her former best friend… and I believe that’s a message sent to whoever was behind that owl attack at Redacted!

Hood: Can she just break the damn hold already? God!

~Andrea doesn’t break the hold right away as Chelsea continues to helplessly tap and only on the referee’s intervention does she finally break the hold. Andrea stands up and the referee tries to raise her hand, but she’s not having it as she snatches it away from him and rolls out of the ring, walking up the ramp without even celebrating.~

Smith: Apparently, Andrea believes that beating Chelsea is no cause for celebration. She absolutely routed her tonight! I thought this would be close… but this was Andrea destroying her former best friend. Clearly… a message sent…

Hood: Not like Alice Knight is worth sending said message to…

Smith: Don’t be ridiculous…

Hood: Come on… we all know SHE’S the one behind it…

Smith: Enough conspiracy theories… the bottom line is that Andrea clearly took out so much frustration from Redacted out on Chelsea LeClair… pretty scary stuff considering she absolutely dominated and destroyed her…

Hood: Melodramatic bitch… can we move on now? God, I can’t stand her!

~Backstage.~

~OCW’s intrepid reporter Jones, otherwise known as Jonesy to almost nobody, finds himself a’huffin and a’puffin as he power-walks his way up behind probably the most likely person to bite his head off in the Locker Room right now.~

~Finally, he catches up.~

Jones: Mr. Dane! Can I get a word?

~The Only Star stops dead in his tracks. He turns on Jones with the same tinge of violence in his eye that saw The Road Dog get Powerbombed out of the ring and onto his own motorcycle just a few short minutes ago.~

Eric Dane: What, Jonesy, what could you possibly want to ask me? What was it that was left unsaid out there tonight?

~The journalist steels himself for a split-second before standing in and doing his job.~

Jones: The last time we saw you, you put a serious beating on Evin Empire, one that we all assumed was meant to send a message to the OCW Lockerroom as well as as the new management that had just taken power-

~He is interrupted.~

Dane: Yeah. And?

Jones: And we haven’t seen or heard from you since.

~The Only Star’s patience appears to be wearing thin.~

Dane: Yeah. And?

Jones: And what gives? You walked into the door, talked a huge game, took out a Hall of Famer, took out a couple of more people, and then poof, gone! What happened? What are you doing back? What can we expect-

~Another interruption.~

Dane: You can expect more of the fuckin’ same, Jonesy, and not that it’s any of your fuckin’ business, but right around the same time that Zymbala and Langston did whatever it was they did to take power, the preliminary contract that I signed with that moron Welsh came up and nobody seemed in too big a hurry to sign a new one.

Jones: What changed?

~Eric’s eyes narrow.~

Dane: I had a bad weekend.

Jones: You mean HOW’s War Games?

Dane: I had. A bad. Weekend. I made a call, I drove to town, I signed a new contract, and I beat the shit out of a couple of guys who didn’t deserve it all to make myself feel better about myself!

Jones: So then you’re back in OCW?

Dane: That’s right, Jonesy, The Only Star is back! I’m back, and I’ve still got my eyes on that Savage Championship! Not only that, but let me go ahead be the first person to officially declare my entrance into the OCW Rumble at Declassified!

Jones: Wow! That’s great news!

~He leans in close, a growl in his voice and murderous intent in his eyes.~

Dane: Maybe for me, Jonesy… Not for anybody else.

~With that, Dane turns and walks away toward wherever he was going in the first place. Jones, ever the professional, is quick to fill the dead air with more of his own voice.~

Jones: Well folks, there you have it! Eric Dane is back here in OCW and he’s out for blood! And now back to you guys at ringside!

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: Eric Dane is back and he has his sights set HIGH

Hood: Of course he does...the man's a champion, Smith. A living legend!

Smith: He's already announced his intentions on entering the Rumble. So we can count on Dane appearing in that match...plus, there's no doubt he's gunning for Logan and that Savage Title.

Hood: Picking up where he left off. Got a bad taste in your mouth? Rinse that shit out...that's what Dane's doing.

Smith: Indeed.

Smith: Well we are going to cut to the parking lot now where none other than the OWL is Night herself, Alice Knight is waiting by. Can you hear us, Alice?

Hood: Smith, please don't do this to me...

~We cut to Alice Knight in overalls, hair tied back and swinging a baseball bat a few feet away from the camera man. She is alerted that she is live on the air and approaches the camera.~

Alice: Huh?

Smith: Can you hear us Alice?

Alice: I CAN HEAR YOU, SMITH!

Smith: That's great, Alice.

Hood: She can hear us, hurray for modern technology and the fact that her ears actually work. Hurray!

Alice: Is that Hood? Smith, I don't have time to talk to that idiot shit head, Hood. I have been waiting in the OCW arena parking lot since 7pm tonight. Hooting loudly and waiting for the Parliament of Owls to show their faces. But still nothing yet, guys. They have yet to arrive at the arena. But i did grab a hot dog and a fountain drink. This new vender didn't have my homemade mustard though, which was disappointing to say the very least. But i still managed to make him put lots of regular mustard on it. He was like 'This is too much mustard.' and I was 'it's not even CLOSE to enough mustard.' But I did get the perfect amount of mustard on to the hotdog by the end, Smith. That was about an hour ago.

Hood: Please kill me...

Alice: But don't worry, i got this homeless man named Gooby to keep an eye on the entrance while i argued with the vender over how much was too much mustard...see he thought it was enough, Smith. But me, I thought other wise...

Smith: We get it Alice.

Hood: Correction. Please kill HER...

Smith: Shush...

Alice: I will remain out here until they show up in their stupid costumes and with their leader to explain why they attacked poor Andrea Hernandez at Redacted before our match. But I'll keep you guys posted...

Smith: Thanks Alice...

Hood: Is it over yet? Can we move on now?

Smith: I admire Alice's pursuit for justice. That's a fine woman.

Hood: It's a FARCE, Smith. She's acting so brave because SHE's the culprit. Fuckin hell...AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES THIS?!

Smith: Alice makes a good point...I may have to start trying a little more mustard on my food.

Hood: Oh for fuck's sake

~The lights go out as a purple spotlight centers on stage. The beginning chords to "Evil In Me" by Thomas Edwards begin to kick in. The crowd boos MASSIVELY~

Belvedere: Please welcome to the ring… Lilith and Sarah Twilight… R.O.S.E.!!!!!!

~Pyros shoot up from both sides of the entrance ramp and the melody finally kicks into high gear as Lilith appears at the top of the entrance ramp. She is quickly flanked by Sarah Twilight. The two join hands and begin making their way down the entrance ramp. Lilith points and laughs at the crowd, mocking them as Sarah stares forward, ignoring the sheep. The couple part at ringside as Lilith makes her way to one side of the ring and Sarah to the other. Rolling into the ring they take to opposite turnbuckles. Sarah stares forward coldly as Lilith enjoys some self appreciation among the enraged boos of the fans~

Smith: The former OCW Tag Team Champions on their way out and they do not look happy.

Hood: Why should they be? You saw what happened at Redacted, they were jumped! Four versus two and they still damn near overcame it all!

Smith: I tend to see it as justice being served. Lilith wrote too many checks with her mouth that her ass couldn’t cash.

Hood: That’s very disrespectful. Do you know how hard that woman works? How hard they both work?

Smith: Give it a rest.

~Inside the ring Lilith SCREAMS at the timekeeper to pass her a microphone, the fans at front row covering their ears so they don't go deaf. She is finally given what she wants as she snatches it out of the staff members hand, glaring at him~

Hood: See what happens when you take your time giving Lilith what she wants?

Smith: Oh shut up.

~Lilith turns her attention onto the fans, smiling sweetly at them, they still boo her.~

Lilith: Yeah shut up, no body cares what you gots to say. You know what?! If anything I should be going boo on ALL of you! You all saw’d what happened at Redacted and how many of you took a stand against that nonsense?! How many of you had strong words to says on social media?! Ummmmm… zero?! ZERO?!! Am I right on that?! YEAH I AM!!! FUCK YOU ALL!!!

Smith: Oh my… folks we apologize for her language.

Hood: No I don't, she's right.

Lilith: For weeks now I've stormed into Zybalas cute little office demanding that YOU idiotic, scummy, yuck faced SLIME BALLS!!! show me the respect I deserve and cheer me! But you knows what?! If Redacted taught me ONE thing it's that you JERK FACED ASSHOLES don't even DESERVE to cheer us! You don't even deserve to be in this arena when we're here! So get the HELL out of my company! GET OUT OF MY ARENA!!! OUT!!! ALL OF YOU!!! GET THE HELL OUT!!!

~The fans don't move, instead they just boo and chant at Lilith even harder.~

Crowd: SHUT THE FUCK UP… SHUT THE FUCK UP… SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!

Smith: Is she for real? Nobody can be that insane.

Hood: These idiots showing a total lack of respect! They should all be thankful that the former tag champs have even graced them with their presence.

~With Lilith completely pissed off and fired up, Sarah gently eases the microphone away from her. Lilith continues to yell, even without the microphone. Sarah waits a few moments and let’s her wife vent before she begins herself~

Sarah Twilight: I don’t give a shit whether any of you stay, go or rot where you sit. To me, this isn’t about any of you. This is about me and my WIFE! This is about what the fuck we came here for!

~She pauses momentarily as she paces the ring, growing angrier with each passing moment~

Sarah Twilight: Did you think I was going to let this go? Did you actually fucking think that?!

Smith: You lost, get over it.

Hood: I believe Miss Twilight has the floor, Smith. ZIP IT!

Sarah Twilight: You tried to disfigure and maim my wife … you sick fucks tried to DISFIGURE AND MAIM MY WIFE! And you fucking think you get to ride off into the sunset with the tag belts like everything is fine? … is that what you THINK? FUCK NO!

Smith: You can’t say Lilith didn’t deserve it, she ran her mouth for over a month.

Hood: She absolutely did NOT deserve what happened to her at Redacted. Sure, she ran her mouth but trying to maim her? Come on!

Smith: That’s a little exaggerated.

Hood: You wanna have a look at the footage again?

~The Mistress of Mischief is completely seething as she runs a hand along Lilith’s cheek as the raven haired beauty frowns, remembering the things that were done to her~

Sarah Twilight: If you think this is fucking over, you had better wake the hell up because this is only the BEGINNING! I don’t give a shit what you want, what your worthless daddy wants, or what any of the mindless fucking sheep want. The ONLY thing that I want is to rip your spinal column out through your damn eye sockets! As the former champions, we are entitled to a rematch, and if you make the mistake of thinking I am simply coming after you for a fucking belt you can kiss your ass goodbye because I am coming for blood … I am coming for revenge and I am coming to fucking END YOU!

~By now, Lilith was the calmer of the two … and that’s saying something. Sarah was absolutely FURIOUS. Lilith looks at Sarah and holds out her hand asking for the microphone, Sarah nods as she passes her it. A few of the fans in attendance can be seen covering their ears again not wanting to listen to her.~

Hood: Sarah Twilight is an angry, violent bitch most of the time … but I don’t know that I have ever seen her THIS pissed off and violent! … Nevermind, Kitty Petrova happened, yes I have.

Smith: It’s saying something when Lilith of all people is the less psychotic of the two at the moment.

Lilith: Yeah! The thing that's getting me all Grrrrrr, Ducey McPoop, is the fact that we both know that you shouldn't have even been in that match in the first place. You only were BECAUSE OF ME! I was nice enough to allow it, if not for Lilith you and Daddy Poop would have been TOTALLY forgotten! But after you CHEATING to win and taking MY titles away… do you gots the niceness to go “I'm sorry, Lilith, we don't deserve these… have them back”?! NOPE!!! But the thing is you KNOWS I'm right! You DON’T deserve to hold my titles after cheating and making the match TOTALLY not fair turning it into a handicap match NOT a triple threat LIKE IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN!!! Yes we could get our titles back at Declassified but am not waiting that long! I want them back... right MEOW!!! Zybala I knows you're watching this… get out here and give me what I DESERVE!!! And then after that out of the KINDNESS of my heart I will give Poop and Daddy Poop a rematch at Redacted. I pinky promise!

"WHEN IT'S TIME TO PARTY, WE WILL PARTY HARD!"

~The fans boo as Zybala walks out onto the stage with his hands behind his back, looking at the former tag champs. He does his best to ignore the boos, possibly planning on addressing them later (Chekhov's gun). Lilith looks at Zybala, a little confused. Zybala smiles sweetly at his what many would call "frenemy."~

Lilith: Ummmmm… Zybala it's SUPER great that you're out here to give me what I want AND what I deserve buttttttt you seem to be forgetting something. I can't help but notice that you don't actually gots the tag titles on you right there… Unless you're hiding them behind your back…

~Sarah looks at Lilith, then to Zybala, then back to Lilith who hands the redhead the microphone~

Sarah Twilight: Unless you’re out here to give me Duce Jones and his bitch ass father, I suggest you turn right the fuck back around because today is NOT the day and I am NOT the one to piss off!

Smith: Might want to think twice before threatening the boss.

Hood: I think she’s thought about it, and doesn’t care.

~Zybala pulls one hand from behind his back. It is not holding a tag title, but a microphone. He raises it and begins to speak~

Zybala: Ladies, I think you both make valid points. However, the decision stands and The Jones' are still the OCW tag team champions. I do think that you two do deserve a rematch, but it won't be tonight. Duce and his father already have a match, and I believe the tag title scene needs some new blood in it. Some OUTSIDERS blood! So tonight we will see Duce and Krazyie versus Tony the Spider and The Ubertaker for the tag team titles!!

~Sarah is absolutely losing her mind in the ring, as is Lilith. The crowd is currently in a mixed reaction to the news. Some boo while more cheer. They do love their underdogs.~

Sarah: Are you fucking kidding me? Are you actually fucking kidding me?! Fuck this …

~She drops the mic and heads to exit the ring, clearly after Zybala. Lilith has to prevent her from doing so. Despite the fact that Lilith isn't holding a microphone you can still clearly hear her as she talks to Sarah so loudly~

Lilith: Sarah! No! Stop it! Fighting him won't get us anywhere… I already tried that and all that happened is I… became his friend… kinda? WAIT A MINUTE THAT'S A GOOD POINT!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO OUR FRIENDSHIP ZYBALA?!! FRIENDS GIVE OTHER FRIENDS WHAT THEY WANT!!! THEY DON'T KEEP ANNOYING THEM FOR THE FUN OF IT!!!

~Lilith glares at Zybala and looks back to her extremely furious wife.~

Lilith: On second thought maybe we SHOULD kick his ass! Maybe he'll learn his lesson… THIS TIME!

~Zybala calmly brings out his other hand, which is holding a baseball bat. His smile never wavers as he looks at the enraged ladies~

Zybala: Careful you two. As my buddy Lilith can attest, I'm not afraid to get violent. My ruling does stand, but I'm not an unreasonable person. You two WILL get your tag title match at Declassified, but who it's against will be determined later tonight. Now if you don't mind, I have some more contracts to double check and get through legal.

~Zybala turns around and walks back to the locker room area as Sarah Twilight and Lilith look on with frustration~

Smith: Not what R.O.S.E. wanted...but better than nothing.

Hood: That match...if it winds up being R.O.S.E. against Duce and his father...it will be a blood bath.

Smith: I tend to agree. It's been a busy night for Zybala. With the Welsh buffer eviscerated due to some shady South Korean dealing while visiting North Korea, Zybala is finding life as owner to be...taxing.

Hood: I think he likes it. The man has an unrivaled LUST for power. I just hope he quits mentioning Outsiders.

Smith: I doubt that will happen. Zybala has dealt with Lilith. He's dealt with Langston. There is, however, one person remaining he needs to address.

Hood: The best of them all...the former Undefeated Champion.

Smith: We've yet to see our former champion tonight...but I'm told he's backstage and, as one could assume, he is not in a great mood.

Hood: Good. Kick some ass!

Smith: Fans, our main event is right around the corner...but first, let's cut backstage

~Mack O'Connor and Treat Cassidy are tearing apart Mack's dressing room backstage, apparently looking for the World Title belt. Well, Treat is looking everywhere while Mack sips a beer on the couch~

Treat: Retrace your steps, Mack! When was the last time you had it? Think!

~Mack takes another sip of his beer. He shrugs~

Mack: I don't remember, man.

Treat: You don't remember? What? Are you serious?

Mack: I don't know what to tell you.

Treat: It's been a week! You don't remember where you put it?

~Mack shakes his head, sipping his beer~

Treat: Fine. Lets think back. You're in the ring. Scruff hands you the title. Zybala throws Welsh under the bus... Then what?

~Mack thinks for a moment~

Mack: Okay, so I went back to my locker room, I took a shower, changed clothes, packed up, and...

~Mack stands up, his eyes going wide. Treat is on the edge of his seat~

Treat: What? Then what?

~Mack actually looks a bit nervous. He just stares at Treat. Treat squints a bit, trying to figure Mack out. It begins to dawn on him~

Treat: You didn't... No... No way... You didn't...

~Mack slowly nods~

Treat: YOU LEFT THE OCW TITLE BELT IN NORTH KOREA?!?!

~Mack stares at Treat, taking another sip of his beer. Treat throws his hands in the air, storming towards the door~

Treat: Where's a White Claw when you need one?!?!

~He storms out, slamming the door behind him. Mack reaches into his fridge, grabbing another beer~

Smith: Oh no

Hood: Well, Mack does have one thing in common with the legendary Scott Syren

Smith: What's that?

Hood: Both men lost their World Titles. Syren managed to find his, though.

Smith: Yea, after like ten years.

Hood: Hey, it offered a loophole which enabled Syren to refer to himself as the World Champion all that time.

Smith: Ugh, that man was a vile human. There's still hope for Mack...he better find that title before Declassified.

~Massacre cuts to outside of the medical room where there’s nobody in the distance but someone is heard screaming inside~

Voice: I SAID GET AWAY FROM ME YOU HACK!!!!

~The door suddenly bursts open and Chelsea LeClair walks… or rather… limps her way out of the medical room. Considering she had tapped out to her own finisher in humiliating fashion, she can barely even walk. She doesn’t even bother trying to get back to her locker room to grab her stuff~

Chelsea: Ow… ow…

~The exit to the arena is only a short distance away, but to Chelsea it feels like a mile and the presence of interviewer Who’re doesn’t help matters~

Who’re: Chelsea…

Chelsea: Get away from me WHORE!

Who’re: Is there anything you’d like to say about what happened earlier?

~Chelsea says nothing~

Who’re: Is there anything you want to say to Andrea considering you’re out of her life forever?

Chelsea: ...it wasn’t me… I’m not behind the attack… now FUCK OFF!!!!!

~She does what she’s told as Chelsea is left alone. Chelsea then limps by some metal crates as she’s having a hard time even getting to the exit~

Chelsea: Can this get any worse?

~Almost on cue, the metal crates open up and four masked people pop out of the crates. They all blindside Chelsea from behind, completely mugging her and assaulting her and subjecting her to further punishment as they toss her into a couple of crates, into the wall and eventually quadruple powerbomb her right into the floor. She’s completely out at this point. All four masked men are wearing long sleeved shirts with the letters “FCC” on them, with one of the men talking~

Masked Man: Chelsea… by order of the FCC… you have been officially… CANCELLED!!! Let’s get her out of here.

~The crowd doesn’t know how to react as the four men drag Chelsea LeClair out of the arena… and from the sounds of it… possibly out of OCW. The scene fades on this as we cut back to the ring~

Smith: What just happened?!

Hood: Chelsea's been cancelled! Alright!

Smith: I think it's rather mean to cheer for that...the woman has been trying to find her place, Hood.

Hood: And she's found it...AWAY from OCW.

Smith: Callous, cold, and downright disrespectful. However, one mustn't mourn forever! It's main event time! The NEW Tag Team Champions are...apparently DEFENDING their titles tonight against the Ministry of Parkness. To the ring we go!

Main Event
Tag Team Championship
Duce Jones & Krayzie © (1-0) vs. The Ministry of Parkness (0-1)

~The action has been hot and now it all leads to this.. The Main Event! Belvedere stands in the center of the ring, looking professional as ever. He CLEARS his throat and the OCW fanatics go krayzie.. uh… crazy..~

Belvedere: The following tag team contest is your MAIN EVENT and is scheduled for ONE FALL! Introducing first..

~The opening chord of "I'm Wit Whateva'" by Biggie Smalls creeps in over the sound system.. the lights go from orange to crimson in a flickering motion. From behind the curtains step the father-son tandem that is Duce Jones and Krayzie. The newly crowned OCW Tag Team Champions come to a halt on the stage, Krayzie has his title strapped around his neck, Duce's hangs off of his back shoulder.~

Belvedere: Making their way to the ring.. At a combined weight of 460lbs.. They are the OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS! DUCE JONES AND KRAYZIE!!!

~The duo make their way towards the ring, both of them sharing a common intensity about themselves. Making it to ringside, Krayzie walks up the steps as Duce hops up onto the apron.. Both come to a halt and look out to the crowd for a moment before entering the ring and going to their designated corners to take off entrance gear, handing them along with the tag titles to the ring attendant and talk strategy.~

Smith: What a magical moment we witness at Redacted, the father-son team of Duce and Krayzie were able to dethrone the former tag champions, R.O.S.E for the titles.

Hood: Yeah a sappy moment indeed.. I totally thought Twilight and Lilith were going to pull out the win with the odds heavily in their favor but Duce seemed to have went to a different place that night.

Smith: Yes he did but it was enough for him to gain those belts for his team and a GREAT moment ruined by the very lackluster crowd..

Hood: Yeah.. that whole experience was.. weird.. But these people here tonight have done more than enough to make up for that here tonight.

~Dark, ominous music begins to play. A cloud of manufactured mist fills the entrance area as THE UBERTAKER makes his way from behind the curtain, down the ramp. He’s looking super ominous. Wild laughter is heard as TONY THE SPIDER steps out, bouncing his head forward and backward like THE COCK OF THE WALK. His circular shades cover his eyes…and the traditional TONY THE SPIDER fanny pack adorns his waist. Behind them struts JAM G and DEANGELO VICKERS.~

Belvedere: Their opponents.. being accompanied by DeAngelo Vickers and Jam G! The team of The Ubertaker and Tony the Spider.. MINISTRY OF PARKNESS!

~A fan yells out “HEY UBER!” He turns and smiles, waving…he realizes he’s breaking character and instantly returns to his SPOOKY behavior. The quartet reaches the ring and awkwardly climbs onto the apron before stepping in through the ropes~

Smith: And here comes the Ministry of Parkness…

Hood: Have we figured out who placed Tony in charge of payroll? I'm truly concerned that what I could actually be making, is instead going to his one-eyed cousin..

Smith: Not yet, but we definitely need Zyabala or Langston to check into that.

~Belvedere makes his exit as Tony stands confidently inside of the ring like a superhero posing with their cape flying in the wind. Only it's his fanny pack that drapes aimlessly from his torso. On the other side, Duce looks to start things off as his father steps to the apron. Seeing that both teams are ready to go, Scruff signals for the bell.~

Smith: We're set to get things underway and hopefully the MoP doesn't get destroyed too badly.

Hood: I mean they're a decent team if you need a ride to go place a bet.

~Tony the Spider cockily struts up to Duce. Duce questionably looks down at him. Tony puts up his dukes. Duce laughs and turns towards Krayzie, pointing back at Tony. The smaller Tony feels insulted.. as soon as Duce turns his focus back to him, Tony slaps him weakly across the face. The fans let out an instigating, "OH!" Jones grabs his face in shock. Tony smiles.. Duce retaliates and CRACKS him with a headbutt! Tony hits the canvas on his ass. He's no longer smiling.~

Smith: Skull rattling headbutt by Duce! I think Tony will second guess slapping anyone else in the face.

Hood: He should've followed up.. at least four more slaps probably would've done the trick.

~Duce slowly advances on Tony but he quickly back crawls towards his team's corner where he tags in a surprised Ubertaker. A slight argument begins between the two, Uber clearly not ready to step in the ring. However he does and Tony goes to the apron. Duce motions for Uber to bring it. Uber doesn't want to bring it. He tags a befuddled Tony back in.~

Smith: Clearly, neither one of these men want to do battle with Duce.

Hood: Everyone saw how batshit crazy Duce went at Redacted. At the very least these dudes are trying to play it safe.

~Duce is annoyed, he walks back over to his dad and leans in the corner, waiting on the MoP to make their decision. Tony stares daggers into The Ubertaker as he climbs back through the ropes. Tony begins to fire himself up. DeAngelo and Jam G shout words of encouragement from ringside. Tony straps his fanny pack securely and snuggly around his waist. Duce looks nonplussed. Tony strokes his mullet and flings sweat from his fingers. Duce yawns. Tony lets out a wild laughter and charges forward. Duce comes firing from his corner as Tony nears. BICYCLE KNEE STRIKE by Jones! Tony is out on his feet, stumbling back towards his corner where he blindly tags an unsuspecting Uber! The Spider stumbles through the ropes and to the outside where Jam G and Vickers are quickly over to check on him.~

Smith: Things look to be going bad early for Tony as he can't seem to find an opening.

Hood: Duce is effortlessly kicking his ass right now.

~The Son of Krayzie allows Uber enough space to enter the ring, he's not budging.. more like refusing.. Duce drops his head in disappointment. He looks to Krayzie and asks if he wants some of the action. Krayzie rebuttals, "what action?" Duce shrugs and extends his hand. Krayzie looks at it and then at the unsure Ubertaker. Krayzie sighs deeply and decides against it. Duce asks if he's sure.. Krayzie nods in the affirmative. Duce is disappointed, he converses with his dad about it. Jones is rolled up from behind!~

1!

2!

Kickout!

Smith: Duce was almost pinned by The Ubertaker!

Hood: Dude.. that would've been funny as shit!

~Duce rolls to his knees bewildered at Uber's pin attempt. He pops to his feet and charges forward, taking Uber down with a forearm shot! Duce brings him back up and tosses him into his team's corner where he unloads with repeated chops and punches. Uber's stunned and Duce races across the ring before charging back in. Uber unconsciously falls to the canvas. Duce miscalculates and crashes into the turnbuckle pads. BOTH MEN ARE DOWN! Tony begins to stomp on the nearby steps, trying to rally the fans behind Uber but they could care less. Krayzie shakes his head in frustration at his son's eagerness.~

Smith: Duce seemed a little too anxious just then but the uncanniness of The Ubertaker has just worked in his favor.

Hood: Dumb luck.. But what is Jam G doing over here?

~Duce slowly rises to his feet, clutching at his chest. The camera then switches over to Jam G who's grabbing a chair from beside the commentary table. Feint boos ring out as Duce gains his bearings and witness Jam G sliding into the ring with the chair in tow. Uber cowardly crawls away. Duce points at Jam G as Scruff pleads for him to exit. Jam G doesn't listen, instead he charges like a madman at Duce. Duce sidesteps and trips him. Jam G and the chair crashed to the mat. Jam G's momentum sends him sliding out of the ring and smacking the floor. Duce retrieves the nearby chair. TAG! Tony gets the tag from Uber and comes running in like a wild child. Duce hears him and spins. Tony trips and crashes face first with the edge of the chair. Duce is shocked. He looks at Tony, then at Krayzie, then at Scruff. Scruff signals for the bell!~

Smith: Well…

Hood: What the fuck just happened?

~Duce is confused as well. Scruff talks to Belvedere. He nods his head and makes the announcement. Duce and Krayzie watch on in anticipation.~

Belvedere: Here are your winners.. by disqualification..

~Crowd instantly boos.~

Belvedere: THE MINISTRY OF PARKNESS!

~Duce is irate, instantly in Scruff's face debating the call! Krayzie enters the ring to back up his son's argument. Scruff tries his best to explain but the tag champs aren't hearing it.~

Smith: Well from the looks of it. The chair that the Ministry of Parkness' own Jam G introduced into the match, apparently worked in their favor..

Hood: WEAK ASS OFFICIATING!

Smith: Why is Vickers grabbing the tag titles?

~In the midst of the champs arguing with Scruff, DeAngelo Vickers has taken the tag titles from the attendant and is gathering up his dazed and confused crew. The discombobulated group haven't totally realized themselves, what has truly happened. Vickers hands them the titles and they begin to celebrate as they make their way up the ramp.~

Smith: I don't think Duce and Krayzie have realized that their titles have been stolen.

Hood: Well they better stop arguing with that furry bastard and pay close attention!

~It's almost as if Krayzie hears him. He spots the MoP in his peripheral, then looks towards the attendant. They shrug their shoulders and point. Krayzie becomes infuriated and slaps his son on the back, pointing towards the thieves and explaining the situation. Duce screams, "FUCK!" and they both quickly exit the ring and give chase to the MoP who have already hightailed it out of there.~

Smith: You can’t win a championship via a DQ…but the MoP have other ideas!

Hood: Those goofy fuckers probably have no idea. Geezus

Smith: Talk about a wild week after the biggest win of your OCW career. Krayzie has got to be wondering what he got himself into.

Hood: Insanity. I’ll say this, R.O.S.E. wouldn’t have allowed those titles to be stolen. Their voices wouldn’t have been dubbed, either.

Smith: They lost fair and square…although now that they know the tag titles are in the hands of a couple of incompetent nincompoops…

Hood: The fuck did you just say? For the love…cut to something else before you embarrass yourself any further…

~Alice and the homeless watchmen Gooby are both sleeping on the concrete back to back as disturbing sounds of 'HOOTS' can be heard from the dark area of the parking lot. Alice gets to her feet and tells the homeless man to run. He runs towards the dark as Alice tries to stop him but all can be heard is feathers flapping and clubbing noises. The costumed Owl Parliament reveal themselves as they slowly approach Alice. She starts setting up her ball bat for a swing at them if they get too close.~

Alice: You wanna try and ruin the OWL is NIGHT reputation you pieces of shit? And I bet after you took care of Andrea, you want to club me to death, do sexual things to my dead body and do some weird nasty bukaki to me? Well I'd love to see you try... come on and get me!!!!

~ The Owl Parliament begin to circle her. One of the costumed Owls hoots at another one and it hoots back as they slowly walk away backwards from Alice. She who looks confused. They disappear into the darkness, leaving a befuddled Alice. She turns and shrugs toward the camera. We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Whew…that was a close one!

Hood: No, it wasn’t close…you want to know why? BECAUSE SHE’S BEHIND IT

Smith: I think that proves she isn’t behind it, Hood. They almost defiled her corpse!

Hood: That proves nothing…you hear me? NOTHING!!!!

Smith: Okay, relax.

Hood: Sorry…I swear, that woman is going to give me a stroke.

Smith: Well fans, it’s been an eventful night thus far…it appears as though we are winding…

"WHEN IT'S TIME TO PARTY, WE WILL PARTY HARD!"

~Andrew W.K.'s most popular song hits as OCW owner Mike Zybala walks out from behind the curtain to a mixed reaction from the crowd. The cheers are louder, but there are definitely some boos.~

Smith: Looks like we'll be hearing from the boss...again. This time to close out the show!

Hood: This crooked man should be locked up for the way he ROBBED Mike Best in North Korea!

Smith: I wouldn't say arrested, but he should be ashamed of himself. He ruined what was a classic match.

Hood: Fucking travesty!

~Zybala gets in the ring and the music dies down. We can hear the boos more clearly. He raises a microphone and starts talking.~

Zybala: I know, I know. I would boo me too. I ruined a great match by letting my want for revenge cloud my better judgement. I shouldn't have let the fact that Best cost me not only my GM job, but what would have been my biggest OCW victory, make me cost him the OCW title and his undefeated streak. For that, I am truly sorry. I promise to not only make it up to him, but the fans as well. Which leads me to the real reason why I'm out here. I have a huge announcement! I have.....

~Zybala gets cut off as “Everybody Loves Me” by OneRepublic hits the speakers.The fans in attendance pop huge for the now former OCW Champion, Mike Best, as he steps out from behind the curtain. His shoulder is in a heavy duty flex brace, and he stares daggers into the ring at Mike Zybala with a microphone in his left hand.

Mike Best: That’s it, dipshit? You stole the Craze Championship from me. You stole the OCW Championship from me. You stole my undefeated streak, my entire brand… my way of LIFE… from me. And now that you’ve taken EVERYTHING from me… now you’re going to come out here and think you can just clear your conscience by saying you’re SORRY?

~He spits the final words, venom in his mouth as his eyes narrow toward the ring.~

Mike Best: I’m gonna save you some time, Zybala. I know this routine-- I’m a Best, and this is basically what we do for a living. So let me save us some back and forth. I want a rematch. I can never get the streak back, but I can sure as hell reclaim the OCW Championship, and I want that rematch at Declassified!

~The crowd begins to roar, but Mike cuts them off immediately and continues.~

Mike Best: But don’t get excited yet people, because this is Booking 101 right here. See, now Zybala comes back at me and tells me that if I want a rematch, he’s going to give me a shot at one. By allowing me to enter the Rumble like EVERYONE ELSE-- and because he knows what an elite athlete I am, he’s going to let me enter the ring at NUMBER ONE! And then you all boo, and I stare him in the eyes, and I tell him I’m going to do it. So why don’t we just skip all of it, Zybala? Why don’t you just tell these people what I have to do to get my rematch, and we can all move on with our evening.

~Zybala looks at Best, reflecting on the words that were spoken to him. After a moment, Zybala starts to speak.~

Zybala: That would be a good idea if I had any ill will left in me towards you, Mike. You are a Best, and still technically THE best in the company. Even without the belt, even with the loss, you still have the best record OCW. And you know what? You’re right. I owe you a rematch. No more games. No more grudges. You want a match against Mack O’Connor at Declassified, for the OCW Championship? You’ve got it. And as a show of goodwill, and to show you that we’re all square, I'm also going to give you an opportunity to do what only one person has done before in OCW history. Which brings me to the announcement I was going to make.

~The owner of OCW clears his throat, turning his attention away from Mike Best. The former champ looks unimpressed, hand on his hip as he stares up at Zybala.~

Zybala: This is something Marcus fought with me for a long time about. He didn't want anything to do with it, but now he's gone and I'm in charge. Before OCW had it's little…..hiatus… we had a little "starter league" for lack of a better term…

~The fans starts to buzz with excitement. Zybala isn't going to say what they think he'll say, will he?~

Zybala: It was a little place where current members of the roster like JAM G, Ubertaker, and Guy Cashe got their start. Even Tony the Spider and John Two Wins honed their skills in the confines of this place. I am, of course, talking about OCW, Outsiders!

~The eyebrows of the former OCW Champion furrow to a point in the middle of his head. Slowly, he begins to walk down the ramp, the crowd buzzing as he makes his way toward the ring with the microphone.~

Mike Best: No, fuck you. No. Absofuckinglutely not. Shut up. No one gives a fuck about your little backyard dogshit pet project, Zybala. No one. You wanna wrestle in your underwear in the backyard, that’s on you, but this isn’t about Outsiders. This isn’t about whatever bullshit you were about to announce. This is about you and me, and if you think rolling over like a sad dog is going to make us even, you’re outta your fuckin’ mind.

~Slowly, he climbs the ring steps. The crowd is buzzing louder now, as he ducks through the ropes and steps into the ring. For the first time since this all began, Mike Best is standing face to face with Mike Zybala, and the crowd isn’t sure how to feel.~

Zybala: Listen, Mike… I know that I what I did was wrong. And I’m trying to make it right. I can’t give it all back to you, but I can give you an opportunity. I gave you your rematch. Now if you’ll allow me to continue with my announcement, I was saying that beginning this month, OCW Outsiders is com--

~With a snarl, Mike Best slaps the microphone out of Zybala’s hand, dropping it to the mat with fury in his eyes. The crowd is torn, with some cheering for what’s coming and others seeing with their own eyes that Mike Best has never changed. He never became a “good guy”-- they changed, not him.~

Mike Best: Focus up, you little pipsqueak fuck! Because of your “boy” Mack, I’m not medically cleared to wrestle. Because of your “boy” Mack, I wake up in the middle of the night screaming, because my rotator cuff looks like it’s been run through a trash compactor. You took everything from me, Zybala. You took it all, and you can’t give it back. You can’t give me back my shoulder, you can’t give me back my streak, and you can’t give me back my title. I’m gonna take that rematch and I’m gonna make the best of it. I’m going to become a two time OCW Champion. But you and I? We’re not even just yet.

~The former champion pulls away, as Zybala looks legitimately saddened in the ring. He knows what he’s done, and there is no ill will or secret motive in his actions tonight. He’s ready to get back to normal. He’s ready to...~

*THWACK!!!!!*

~In a sudden flash, Zybala’s chin snaps back, sending him thundering to the mat after a snap superkick from Michael Best. The crowd is shocked, having not seen it coming-- honestly, they don’t even know how to react after all of this. The former OCW Champ stands over Zybala, as he writhes in pain, holding his jaw.~

Mike Best: Now. NOW we’re even. And you just paid me a fucking GRAND for that, kiddo.

~With a huff, Mike Best throws the microphone to the side, ducking through the ropes and making his way out of the ring. Security and attendants rush the ring to check on Zybala.~

Smith: Mike Best just laid out the owner of OCW!

Hood: Good.

Smith: I know there's some form of justification in what we just witnessed...but let's strip this down to the bare bones. He just beat up his boss!

Hood: So? It's pro wrestling.

Smith: Nobody EVER laid a hand on Welsh. Same with Dean...this is ultra rare in OCW.

Hood: The Zybala Era, Smith. It's a jungle out there.

Smith: I can't fathom this going unchecked. What a night...Mike Best was granted a rematch. He responded by kicking our owner in the face. Eric Dane is back! The Ministry of Parkness have stolen the tag titles. Mack O'Connor has apparently LOST the OCW Title.

Hood: Chelsea's gone. Andrea's trying to discover what we already know, that Alice attacked her. Meanwhile, Alice is acting (badly) like she's innocent. Ed and Crash are at one another's throat...dogs and cats, living together...MASS HYSTERIA!

Smith: What a night, ladies and gentlemen! If this is any indication, Declassified is going to be wild. We'll see you all next week as the ROAD toward Declassified continues!

Hood: THE MIX!

Smith: Oh yes...and the Margarita Mix begins NEXT WEEK! So long, everyone!

~Our final shot is of an unconscious Zybala being checked on by stunned and shocked employees. There is an uncertain vibe permeating throughout the OCW Arena. We fade to black~