OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, August 12th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida
~This spot is typically reserved for mental meanderings, stream of consciousness, random thoughts pertaining to some guy who will forever go unnamed. I’d like to really give you guys a BANG UP NARRATION…but I’m totally spent. Exhausted. My creative juices are as dry as ninety year old pussy. I really hope to never find out what that feels like, btw. Just sayin! So, hey, after that horrifying metaphor, how about we tune into some OCW Massacre! The OCW Arena is sold out, blah blah…fans are going wild, yadda yadda…it’s Monday night, folks! Let’s get to it!
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always is Hood.
Hood: Yo.
Smith: The Margarita Mix is scheduled to begin tonight. How excited are you, Hood?
Hood: I’d be way more excited if it weren’t for this nagging hangover.
Smith: Nobody put a gun to your head, Hood. You should rethink drinking on certain nights.
Hood: Hey, it’s my life and I’ll do what I want.
Smith: Well, okay then. Fans we’ve got nine action packed matches tonight, including first round action in the Margarita Mix. We’ve got a #1 Contenders match within the X-Factor division. And, Eric Dane returns to in-ring competition.
Hood: Sweet. Let’s get this shit going.
Smith: Indeed! Massacre begins, now!
Smith: Here comes one of the best-known OCW wrestlers of all time!
Hood: Coming off his first PPV win in awhile.
~The crowd all turns towards the entryway, letting out a cheer.~
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
~The curtains part, revealing LURRR. The original OCW Icon makes his way to the ring with a sour expression. He hops onto the apron, steps through the ropes and snares a mic from some faceless employee~
Lurrr: You know I stand here in this ring…
~The OCW Crowd goes crazy as they wait for the first true Legend of this company to speak. The crowd is chanting ICON, ICON, ICON. Lurrr holds the mic to his mouth and pauses~
Lurrr: I have been here for 20 fucking years. And I have tore this whole place down over and over…
~The crowd continues their ICON chant. Lurrr holds the mic to his mouth again and pauses to relish in the appreciation~
Lurrr: 20 years…. And I look at every single fucking one of you and realize you have no respect or appreciation for what I have done night in and night out…
~The crowd begins to turn on Lurrr. Now the chants start… Fuck You Lurrr, Fuck you Lurrr~
Lurrr: You know what Fuck you!!! Fuck all of you!!! Fuck Zybala, Fuck Mike Best, Fuck Marcus Welsh wherever the fuck he is!!! Fuck that retard Tony the Spider!!! Hell fuck Mack O’Conner!!! Fuck all of you!!!!
~The crowd boos and continues their Fuck you Lurrr chant. Lurrr smiles. The chant continues~
Lurrr: You inbred retarded mother fuckers done???
~Lurrr pulls the mic back and hops up on the top turnbuckle. He sits there waiting for the OCW crowd to quiet~
Lurrr: Are you done because I can do this all fucking night???
~The OCW Crowd begins a new chant.. Overrated, Overrated, Overrated. Lurrr sits on the ropes with a huge smile. The crowd has now begun to throw a few pieces of their hard earn money into the ring.. collector cups, popcorn, bottles of water into the ring. Lurrr hops off the ropes and encourages it~
Lurrr: I have given everything up for this fucking company. I have given up a normal life with a wife and kids for this fucking company. I have bled and sweat for this company for 20 years!!!!!!
~The crowd continues to boo~
Lurrr: And this is the respect I get after 20 years? Man, fuck all of you!!!! You people in the seats right now, hell even the fucktards in the locker room….. I do all of this for one person… MEEEEE!!!! I am sick and tired of coming out here night in and night out and giving the OCW fucking ratings. You people can boo all you want but the fact of the matter is you pay to see MEEEEE!!!!
~The OCW crowd continues to throw trash into the ring~
Lurrr: I prove myself over and over… to be honest with you I shouldn’t have to but I played politics.. hell, I have been great with handling politics over the years. You can ask the former owner Dean. You can ask fucking Bifford. You can ask Maurako. You can ask fucking Syren. I normally run this fucking joint and do things my fucking way!!! But there seems to be a miscommunication with our new owner Zybala.
~The crowd begins to cheer for Zybala~
Lurrr: Yeah, yeah that jackoff is a fucking idiot!!!! And I am only going to say this once to that jackoff… you better start paying attention to the ICON who made this fucking company!!!! I want my rightful OCW Title shot!!!!
~The OCW crowd begins to chant “You Don’t Deserve It, You Don’t Deserve It”~
Lurrr: Ahhh yes… the fucking idiots that think a return by The Incredible One or Paul Paras will solve things… let me tell you morons something… if they thought they could compete here they wouldn’t have left!!!! Meanwhile I continue to sit here every night and show you what a real champion looks like.
~The crowd begins to chant Fuck You Lurrr, Fuck You Lurrr~
Lurrr: Fuck all of you… I am here for one fucking thing… I came back for one fucking thing… and that’s MY OCW TITLE!!! That’s right the championship that I built from the ground up and I will get it back by hell or high water I guarantee that… Alright fuck all of you let’s bring this piece of shit Vic Vinegar out and get on with Massacre so they can cash in on the admissions that I brought in……
~Lurrr hops back up on the top turnbuckle and leans back while throwing the mic away~
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Singles Match
Lurrr (8-3) vs. Vic Vinegar (0-0)
~These fans are RIPE. Ripe for violence, stupidity and, above all else, hand typed match writing because that dictation software sucks. Belvedere, standing in the center of the ring, clears his throat to a strong ovation. It’s time for the in-ring action to begin~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~He's a man! Such a man! plays out loudly throughout the arena. As the second Such a man! echoes, Vic Vinegar walks out wearing a sick duster and a pair of sunglasses. The screen shows him busting out sick karate moves except they are all poorly done. Vic has never been trained at Karate. This doesn't stop him from confidently swaggering down to the ring. As he gets to the ring, he removes his glasses and throws them to the crowd. He puts his sick duster on the ground because those dusters are kind of expensive. He catches his breath because you know it kind of was a long walk down. He then sort of rolls his way into the ring~
Belvedere: From Philadelphia, Pennsylvania…standing 6’0 feet tall and weighing in at 280lbs of ‘straight mass’…please welcome Vic Vinegar!!!
Smith: Our first look at Vic Vinegar.
Hood: I don’t normally spring for charity. But can we give the guy some quarters to wash his fucking clothes.
Smith: Look at you, being all charitable.
Hood: Ah, you’re right, fuck that guy.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Smith: Why are we getting this entrance? He’s already in the ring!
Hood: Because we paid lots of money for this song. Might as well play it gratuitously.
~The crowd all turns towards the entryway, letting out a cheer.~
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
~Lurrr stands in the ring, enjoying his theme. He nods his head to it and mouths the words “It ain’t bragging mother fucker if you back it up.” ~
Belvedere: From Houston, Texas... he is a three-time OCW Champion and an OCW Hall of Famer...the original ICON of OCW... he is LURRR!!!
Smith: A very different entrance.
Hood: Yes, its’ almost like this entrance was already written…the a segment came in altering this entrance and the CREATOR OF LIFE (aka owner of OCW) decided to edit this shit as little as possible.
Smith: Cut him some slack, it’s already past midnight.
Hood: I will never cut the CREATOR OF LIFE as we know it slack.
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: Rumors have been circulating that Lurrr felt entitled to an OCW Title shot following his victory over Stevens.
Hood: I think Lurrr always feels entitled to an OCW Title Shot. As he should, he’s the man.
Smith: From what I’m told, he was in the discussion…however, AT THE END OF THE DAY…a rematch was decided as the best course of action.
Hood: Lurrr is fucked again! He’s the 2019 Chad Vargas!
~Vinegar sizes up Lurrr. He’s giving him the infamous OCULAR PATDOWN. Lurrr furrows his brow. He’s like, ‘what the fuck is this guy looking at.’ Vinegar finishes the OCULAR PATDOWN and begins to stalk Lurrr~
Smith: We saw the infamous Ocular Patdown earlier this week when Vic Vinegar was utilizing his bodyguard services to some neighborhood ruffians.
Hood: That’s one way of putting it.
Smith: What’s the other?
Hood: That some middle aged, fat guy was hanging around with kids in a parking lot, looking like a fool.
~Lurrr’s ocular patdown turns up a threat level of -69. So, he remains statuesque, giving his back to the pacing Vinegar. Vic, wearing his unnecessarily large, long, and thick duster, pauses. He sees Lurrr’s back and tries to take advantage. He charges forward with a karate CHOP into the back of Lurrr’s neck. Lurrr takes a forced step forward, lowering his head. His temperature begins to rise as his temper boils. It didn’t hurt…but it hurt, if you know what I mean. Just enough to piss the guy off~
Smith: If you’re going to do that, you should probably knock the man out.
Hood: If you’re going to shoot at Lurrr you best not miss, amirite?!
Smith: In so many words.
~Vinegar looks at his hand, confused. He says, “I’m a yellow belt. That should have taken Lurrr down.” Lurrr turns around, annoyed. His eyes shoot daggers in Vic’s direction. Vinegar actually tries to do the matrix evasion, as if real daggers were fired in his direction. Vinegar loses his balance, falling to the mat. Lurrr rolls his eyes, walks forward and grabs a handful of Vic’s thick hair~
Smith: Well, so far we’ve witnessed Vinegar’s lack of balance, weak karate chop, and ineffective ocular patdown. That’s three massive failures in the span of a few minutes.
Hood: Pretty impressive in unimpressive categories.
Smith: I guess.
~Vinegar’s rotund body is forcibly brought to a standing position. Lurrr, out of sheer malice, tosses Vinegar into the ropes, forcing the out of shape bodyguard to run. Vic stumbles across the ring, the tail end of his duster flapping along the manufactured breeze. He hits the ropes and bounces off. He approaches Lurrr, dropping to his knees, asking that there be no more running. Lurrr lifts a sharp knee into Vic’s face, knocking him over~
Smith: It appears running or, well, light jogging might be Vic’s kryptonite.
Hood: How the fuck did this guy pass a physical?
Smith: You don’t have to be in perfect shape to pass a physical, Hood.
Hood: This is all Zybala’s fault.
~Lurrr waits for Vic to get up. It doesn’t take long for the original ICON to realize this isn’t happening any time soon. So, he pulls Vic up and steadies him. Vinegar mumbles something about “Free Taekwondo.” Lurrr takes a step back before lunging forward with THE WAKE UP CALL! Vinegar crashes into the mat. Lurrr makes the cover, Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…LURRR!!!!!
Smith: Lurrr with a decisive victory as his road toward respect continues.
Hood: Yea, the only three time OCW Champion in company history really, really wants that fourth reign.
Smith: Well, Meyhu’s up to two. Mack’s up to two. Paul’s up to two. Mike could be up to two. People are threatening his status as the only three time champion.
Hood: Starting to make it sound like we’ve got a glass ceiling around here, Smith. All these guys with two OCW Title victories…so many with zero.
Smith: It takes an extraordinary amount of talent to claim the OCW Title, Hood. Very few have the ability to do so.
~We cut backstage as we find a giant bunch of brightly colored balloons, all of which say “Get Well Soon” on them, almost appearing to float down the corridor by themselves as there are simply so many of them that they were covering up whoever was holding them~
Smith: Someone is ill backstage?! What's all this about?
Hood: I have… no idea but they better stay the hell away from me! I don't want to be catching whatever it is that they've got!
~The balloons stop just outside Mike Zybalas office, as the camera angle adjusts a bit and we now find that the balloons and a giant “Get Well Soon” teddy bear are being carried by the former OCW Tag Champion, Lilith.~
Hood: Awwwww she's just concerned about Mr Zybala after what that coward Mike Best did to him last week.
Smith: Coward?! Zybala had that coming! And besides, as far as I'm aware he's totally fine! There's not a thing wrong with him aside from maybe a bruised ego. This is ridiculous!
Hood: Oh shut up. You're just jealous that Lilith doesn't care about you this much.
~Without even knocking Lilith opens the door and shoves all the balloons and the giant teddy bear inside, completely interrupting Zybala who appeared to be mid conversation on the phone. Balloons bounce all around in his office, the two of them barely being able to see each other due to the sheer amount of them.~
Lilith: Zybala Bear! I'll… errrrrr… get to you in a second. Hang on!
~Lilith pushes a bunch of the balloons aside as she jumps up onto his desk, knocking a bunch of stuff over, including whatever he was drinking as it spills all over the desk and onto the floor. Lilith just gets right into his face, grinning at him sweetly.~
Lilith: Hi! Now I know you're not feeling too good right meow… so please let me take care of you!
~Lilith grabs him around his face and forces his eyelids open, looking deep into his eyes with a curious look on her face. She then grabs his jaw and yanks it open looking inside his mouth.~
Lilith: Say “ahhhhhhh”.
~Zybala says "ahhhhh" without a fight. He must realize that this is a rare occasion when Lilith doesn't break into his office with this sweet of a demeanor. Lilith releases his face and steps back a step, concern still on her face. Zybala talks to the person on his phone.~
Zybala: I'll have to call you back. Lilith just came into my office…….Okay baby….. I love you too……. Goodbye my love.
~Zybala hangs up his phone and looks at Lilith~
Zybala: Hey buddy. I appreciate the concern, but I'm okay. My pride hurts more than my jaw. I gotta ask. How did you navigate the halls with all these balloons?
~Lilith gasps at Zybala, looking at him with absolute terror on her face. “Buddy”? He NEVER called her that. And he was now also pretending that he had a wife? Or a husband? Lilith didn't judge but she knew no one would be desperate enough to marry him. ~
Lilith: Nope nope NOPE! This isn't good stuffs at all!
~The brunette beauty steps around his desk, stepping behind Zybala and holds her hand to his forehead pulling a sad face as she does so~
Lilith: You're BOILING UP, Zybala! You gotta cool down!
~She reaches down and YANKS at his shirt, pulling it apart, buttons flying everywhere. She then bends down a bit and blows in his ear watching his reaction. Lilith seemed happy with the way his body responded as she slapped her hand across his right cheek again watching his reaction~
Lilith: Hmmmmm… interesting!
~Again she bends down, her extremely large and visible cleavage now pressing against the back of his head. She holds up some fingers in front of his eyes.~
Lilith: How many do you see?
~Zybala grumbles at the treatment. He has the money, but that doesn't mean he wants to buy new shirts all willy nilly like. (Or shoes… BIFFORD!) He takes a deep breath and looks at Lilith's hands~
Zybala: I can't tell, Lilith. Your hands are practically covering my eyes. But really, I'm fine. Thank you though. Plus, I'm only warm because the AC is on the fritz. Can you please get your boobs off my head? I don't want your wife or mine to think something more than friendship is going on between us.
~Lilith gasps again, this time even harder.~
Lilith: OH MY GOD BEAR… HE'S DELUSIONAL!!! Don't worry, Zybala Bear! I knows EXACTLY what to do here!!!
~And then Lilith yanks her bosses chair back, causing him to fall backwards down onto the floor. She quickly jumps down on top of him as the two of them begin to wrestle and roll around on the floor amongst all the balloons~
Lilith: This is the WORST case of Mike-Bestitis I have EVER seen! Imma--- arghhhhh! Damnit Zybala stay still… OH MY GOD!!! I KNOW WHAT THIS IS!!! ARGHHHHH!!!
~Lilith tries to duck as Zybala thrashes around on the floor trying to strike her in the face. She bursts into tears thinking she's losing him~
Lilith: YOU'RE HAVING CONVULSIONS ZYBALA!!! I NEED YOU TO STAY STILL!!! Why?! Why couldn't you just get rid of the Mike Best yuck virus stuff when I tolds you to?! None of this would has happened if you'd just done that! Now my third bestest friend is DYING and it's ALL HIS FAULT!!!
~Lilith sits on top of Zybala, sweating a bit as her boss reaches up and in an attempt to pull her off of him he grabs hold of her top. This doesn't work though as instead of it pulling her off of him, her shirt tears and rips off of her, leaving her on top of him wearing nothing but her black and white stripe miniskirt and a black lace plunge bra. Lilith tries to cover up a bit as she gasps the office door opening once again. Fright and horror quickly spread across her face as she finds her wife, Sarah Twilight, standing in the doorway staring down at her wife who was still sitting on top of her boss~
Lilith: Sarah! I… ummmmm… this isn't what it looks like!
~Lilith looks down at herself noticing that she's only wearing a bra, very clearly showing off her large chest, and a miniskirt. The man beneath her was also almost topless. Lilith looks extremely sad~
Lilith: Ummmmm… I… I was just trying to help him, Sarah! He gots a bad BAD virus and it's killing him!
~Sarah Twilight just stands there, arms crossed shaking her head. Just as quickly as she entered the office, Sarah walks off in what appears to Lilith to be disgust. Lilith just remaining on top of Zybala looking totally heartbroken~
Lilith: SARAH!!!
~Zybala looks at the door then at Lilith, who starts to sob on top of him. He is able to sit up and get out from under Lilith. He then stands and helps the crying lady to her feet~
Zybala: What are you waiting for? Go get her! Make her listen. Shit, we have a camera man who filmed the whole thing. You did get that, right?
~The camera nods. Zybala breathes a sigh of relief~
Zybala: See, proof that it was all a misunderstanding. You won't be in that much trouble once Sarah calms down, and we won't need to file a H.R. incident report. Go! Get your wife!
~Lilith nods her head, wiping away some of her tears as she runs out of the office not even caring that a bunch of OCW employees were staring at her bra covered chest~
Lilith: Sarahhhhhhhh! Wait!
~We cut back to Hood and Smith on commentary as Lilith chases down her wife.~
Hood: Can we always have wardrobe malfunctions like that?
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Singles Match
Andrea Hernandez (14-5) vs. Jack Puffer (0-3)
~The OCW Arena is rocking! B-52’s LOVE SHACK is playing. We’re not sure what this has to do with anything…seems more of a DJ’s choice than anything else. Regardless, fans are dancing and having a good time. The song hits its inevitable end. Belvedere clears his throat to an equally strong ovation as the pick-me-up has these fans ready for some action. Inside the ring we spot Jack Puffer~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, from Aurora, Illinois…he is OCW’s resident detective…he is Jack Puffer!
Smith: I don’t have any proof that Puffer is on the owl parliament case but, knowing his thirst for detection, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Hood: We better not be paying his dumb ass. Fucker is probably planning a trip to the UK to figure out this ‘parliament’ deal.
Smith: Many things about this place surprise me. That, wouldn’t be one of them.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits the venue’s soundwaves. Andrea appears on the stage to some strong cheers from the crowd. She she acknowledges the positive reaction that she's getting as she makes her way toward the ring, completely focused on the task at hand. She gets up to the ring apron and uses the top rope to slingshot herself into it, continuing to soak in the cheers she gets as she leans against the corner, confidently waiting for what comes next~
Smith: And there she is! Andrea back in action! She disposed for Chelsea last week…her first action since that brutal beat down in Pyongyang.
Hood: Andrea is NO fan of sensationalized journalism. Which sucks because that’s basically all journalism these days.
Smith: Andrea is hoping to get to the bottom of who was behind that dastardly attack which prevented her from testing her skills against the greatest female competitor in company history, Alice Knight.
Hood: We’re still playing this game? ALICE KNIGHT WAS BEHIND THE FUCKING ATTACK
Belvedere: From Sedona, Arizona…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former Craze and Paradigm Champion…she is Andrea Hernandez!!!
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: And here we go!
Hood: When was the last time Andrea wrestled two weeks in a row?
Smith: I…I don’t know. It’s been awhile.
Hood: Looks like that owl beating woke her up.
~Puffer approaches the wary Hernandez. He begins to speak. The two are standing near the center of the ring. We can’t pick up on every word Puffer is uttering but we get the gist of the conversation. He’s attempting to inform Andrea ‘not to worry’…and that he’s ‘on the case’. Andrea is far from fucking convinced. Puffer holds up one finger, perhaps staving off an attack~
Smith: Puffer’s investigation into Andrea’s attack confirmed.
Hood: I seriously wonder how people like Jack Puffer make it beyond the age of, like, 12.
Smith: America does its best to protect its own, Hood.
Hood: Man, if EVER there was a case against vaccinating your kid.
~Puffer pulls something out of his pocket. It appears to be a plane ticket. We zoom in to see that it is, indeed, a plane ticket to the UK. Andrea looks down at the plane ticket. Puffer smiles, nodding his head…he says, “I’m all over it. Don’t you worry!” Andrea shakes her head, her jaw tightens, it’s clear the fire within this woman is rising~
Smith: Well, you called it.
Hood: The dude is a MORON. But, he’s a predictable moron.
Smith: That’s something, I guess.
~Andrea slaps the ticket out of Jack’s hand. Jack’s eyes widen. “That was at least a thousand dollars!” he yells. Andrea doesn’t care, she kicks him in the lower abdomen, barely above the crotch. She grabs the back of his head and drives him face first into the mat with a Sitout Facebuster!!! Puffer pops to his knees, holding his face in pain. We see his eyes over his hands, they are confused…hurt. He rises to his feet. Andrea takes off, hitting the ropes. She bounces off and DRILLS Puffer in the face with a Busaiku Knee!!! Puffer flips backwards, over his head, landing on his stomach. Andrea marches toward the ropes~
Smith: She nearly took his head off!
Hood: Down goes Puffer! If he can’t fly due to head trauma, you think OCW would let me go instead?
Smith: No, you have a job to do. You are stuck here, forever.
Hood: One glorious day this place will be shut down for good. Then I will be FREE.
~Andrea finds the apron. She grabs the top rope…she leaps into the air, springboards off the top and lands on Puffer with SKY HIGH!!! The ring shakes from impact. Andrea rolls Puffer over and makes the cover. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ANDREA HERNANDEZ!!!!!
Smith: Whew, that was quick and brutal.
Hood: It appears as though Puffer’s efforts were stymied by Andrea. Let’s hope he got cancellation insurance on that flight.
Smith: Knowing the good detective…I doubt he even knew that was an option.
Hood: Fuckin Puffer.
Smith: Andrea has been breathing fire since returning from Pyongyang. She’s focused on identifying her attackers and, when she does, I will have no sympathy for what she puts them through.
Hood: You’re gonna eat those words when Andrea is pummeling your girl.
~Dark, ominous music begins to play. A cloud of manufactured mist fills the entrance area as Deangelo Vickers appears at the entrance ramp. He has a mic in hand. ~
Vickers: Ladies and Gentlemen I Present to you, the OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WORLD! UBERTAKER! TONY THE SPIDER!JAM G. THE MINISTRY OF PARKNESS!!!!!!
Hood: these guys actually think they've won the tag titles via a dq last week.
Smith: what in earth are they doing.
~ All 3 member of the MoP show up at the entrance ramp. The tag titles have been clipped together and are wrapped around all 3 men. They walk uncomfortably towards the ring. ~
Hood: 3 guys 1 belt.
Smith: i feel bad for JamG being sandwiched in the middle there.
~ most of the crowd in attendance is using this time to get a snack and a bathroom break. The ones still in their seats give no reaction, they are probably updating their Facebook statuses.
Deangelo Vickers disappears back behind the curtain but quickly reappears with a box in his arms. He walks slowly down towards the ring, mea while Uber, Tony, and JamG are near standing at the apron of the ring trying to figure out how to get each member in the ring without having the belts come undone. They all decide to hop up on the apron at the sane time. Uber starts the count. 1...2...3. Jump. JamG and Uber make it in the apron okay but Tony fails miserably and tumbles to the floor. The belts come undone as Uber and JamG reacts quickly to prevent them form dropping to the floor. Tony dusts himself off and slides into the ring. Meanwhile DeAngelo Vickers slides the box under the ring and makes his way inside. ~
Hood: who decided to give these guys airtime? Who thought this was a good idea?
Smith: what's in that box?
~the UberTaker grabs a mic and begins to speak ~
Uber: last week we made history, by defeating Duce and Old Duce for the tag titles. This week we will make herstory by defending it against 2 married women who call themselves ROSE. Just remember that every rose has it's thorn. Just like every night has it's dawn.
Hood: i think he just plagiarized Poison.
Smith: i knew it sounded familiar.
~ Uber pauses for dramatic effect, then passes the mic to JamG.~
JamG: every cowboy sings a sad , sad song. But tonight we are not here to be sad or to sing. We are here to celebrate the greatest tag champs in the history of the OCW.
THE M OH P!!!!
~Vickers opens up the box and brings a bottle of champagne, he hands it over to Tony to open. Tony's face starts to turn red as he has trouble getting the cork off. He hands the bottle over to Uber who successfully uncorks the bottle. Vickers reaches inside the box abd produces 4 glasses. He hands a glass to each MoP member and keeps one for himself. JamG pours the sparkly beverage in each person's glass. ~
JamG: now it's not a celebration without Strippers!
~ the crowd hearing the word strippers start to finally pay attention. ~
JamG: Before these strippers come out and shpw us all a good time. My man Tony has a few words he would like to share.
~JamG passes the mic to Tony~
Tony: If they only knew. Hahahahahaha!
~Before Tony's able to inform the fans of any knowledge that they had lacked, "I'm Wit Whateva'" by Biggie Smalls plays throughout the OCW Arena. Concerned looks come over the MoP members' face.. The crowd cheers as the REAL OCW Tag Team Champions, Duce Jones and Krayzie step out onto the stage. Duce looks ready to fly down the aisle but his father places a had on his shoulder to keep the junior calm. In his other hand is a microphone which he brings to his lips~
Krayzie: Tony.. I think you need to calm down..
~However Tony continues to laugh, far from calm. Duce is seen pleading with Krayzie but the senior denies his request~
Krayzie: Duce, you need to calm down as well..
~He turns his focus back to MoP~
Krayzie: Now guys… I think there's been a misunderstanding. See when y'all won by disqualification, that did not mean that you guys became tag team champs. So if you would be so kind.. hands us those belts over if you don't mind.
Hood: I think the MoP should leave the belts in the ring and get out of there.
Smith: it looks like that is exactly what they are doing.
~DeAngelo Vickers packs up the box as Tony, Uber, and JamG drop the belts in the ring. ~
DeAngelo: okay okay. All yours boys.
~The members of MoP exit the ring as Duce abd and Krayzie walk towards it. Duce feigns a punch at Tony who flinches and screams like a little schoolgirl. Duce and Krayzie hop into the ring and stare at the tag belts. Duce looks pissed. Krayzie holds the belt up. ~
Hood: the Ministry just pulled an okie doke.
Smith: it's those shitty twitter tag belts that we saw on the ocw newsline ahile back.
Hood: i didn't know those things were real. They have got to be the ugliest looking belts I have ever seen.
~the The MoP are standing at the entrance way with the actual belts. They run backstage as Duce slides under the ring and chase after them. Krayzie picks up the shitty Twitter belts and follows behind.~
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Singles Match
Eric Dane (2-0) vs. The Road Dawg (2-2)
~The OCW Arena is buzzing with excitement. Is it the half off margaritas? Or, are they super excited to see the in-ring return of THE ONLY STAR? One can’t help but theorize that it might be – BOTH. Belvedere, standing inside the ring, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~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: Nice to see The Road Dawg up and moving around after last week’s encounter with Eric Dane.
Hood: Even more impressive…the bike seems fully functional!
Smith: Good observation, Hood!
Hood: You know me, I’m always looking at the super important details.
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 light drop.~
CUE-UP: “The One You Love to Hate” by Halford
~Silver spotlights hit the stage and out steps The Only Star, a smirking grin spread wide across his face as he takes in everything that the contentious and belligerent crowd has to give him. He eats it up, almost as if it fuels him.~
Belvedere: Now coming to the ring, hailing from New Orleans, Louisianna…
~More boos. The crowd hates him. Eric Dane loves it.~
Belvedere: Weighing in at two-hundred and forty pounds and standing six feet and four inches tall…
~He swaggers to the ring, stopping occasionally to jaw with one of the more vocal fans, but for the most part pre-occupied with himself and how goddamned awesome he is.~
Belvedere: He is The Onnnnnnly Staaaaaaaaaar…
~Dane climbs into the ring and pops to his feet, circling backward with both arms thrown wide so that everybody in attendance can get a good look at him. Just as the announcer gets to his name he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and again throws an arm high into the air. The sheer voracity of the jeering is electric.~
Belvedere: Eriiiiiiiic DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!!!
~More boos, he drops down to the ring and begins his pre-match routine, oblivious to the crowd, the referee, opponents, or anyone else. Eric Dane is a man obsessed and right now he is focused on the match at hand.~
Smith: And here’s Eric Dane! Back in the ring for the first time in a long time.
Hood: Way to be specific.
Smith: Well excuse me if I don’t have that information in front of me!
Hood: I don’t think I can excuse such a glaring omission.
~Belvedere exits and the bell rings. The Road Dawg continues marching around, pacing…back and forth, back and forth. He glares at Dane. Eric looks back with an expression that says, “Don’t give me that look.” TRD pauses, picking up on Dane’s nonverbal threat. TRD yells out, “C’mon, boy!” Dane doesn’t have to be told twice~
Smith: Well, The Road Dawg is calling out The Only Star.
Hood: How did he get cleared for competition? The man clearly has brain damage!
Smith: He believes that ring is his yard, Hood. Plus, he probably wants revenge for what Dane did to his bike last week.
Hood: Bikers and their bikes…almost as bad as nerds and their waifus.
~The Road Dawg gets his fists up. His hands are covered in MMA gloves. Dane isn’t wearing any gloves. He’s not some MMA wannabe slapdick. He’s got bare fists…like a man! TRD jukes and jives while Dane approaches. He throws a few phantom punches, trying to intimidate Dane. Dane keeps moving forward. TRD sort of pauses, wondering if Dane is going to stop or get into a fighting stance. Dane continues moving toward TRD, closing in. TRD gives up ground, confused (and possibly slightly terrified). TRD’s back hits the corner. He looks around, trapped. Dane is upon him. The Only Star reaches out for TRD. TRD puts his hands up and shrieks! Dane consumes him, bringing TRD in close and tossing him over, on top of his head with a Saito Suplex~
Smith: Well, that didn’t wind up the way The Road Dawg had envisioned.
Hood: That’s because he’s delusional and, likely suffering from brain trauma.
Smith: He has had a couple of terrible falls the past few weeks.
Hood: The Knife Man loses his promotion and our medical department goes to shit!
~TRD is laying on his side, groaning, barely moving. Dane, back on his feet, kicks TRD around like a predator fucking around with wounded prey. He reaches down, snaring TRD by his stupid dreadlocks. He leans in with a HUGE headbutt, buckling TRD’s knees. He spins TRD, grabs his arms and tosses him over with a Dragon Suplex!!! He lets go…TRD is folded up, knees to his ears. Dane returns to his feet, looking at his arm…he brushes off some of TRD’s germs, arrogantly. He turns his attention back to his unfortunate adversary~
Smith: This is ugly.
Hood: Yea, The Road Dawg needs to cut those dreads.
Smith: I never understood Caucasian’s going with the dreadlock look.
Hood: You might be treading in racist territory, bro.
~Dane tosses TRD’s legs back to the mat, flattening him out. He snares TRD by the dreads, yanking him up. He effortlessly hoists TRD onto his shoulders before dropping him with Ushigoroshi right across the vibranium knee brace!!! TRD hits the mat, his body begins to convulse due to the impact, the pain, THE FUCKING TRAUMA. Dane, back on his feet, appears ready to end this snuff film~
Smith: I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it…that brace needs to be outlawed!
Hood: Does it need to be outlawed or does it KNEED to be outlawed?
Smith: I will not entertain your play on words.
~Dane sits TRD up. TRD’s convulsions have ceased. He leans forward, slightly…it’s clear the man is out. Dane looks down at TRD…he then looks down at his knee brace~
Smith: Oh no…surely not. You’ve done enough to this man.
Hood: And his bike!
~Dane sighs. He reaches down, grabbing TRD by the neck, yanking him to his feet. TRD is propped up 100% by Dane’s strength. The Only Star has apparently decided using the knee brace blatantly against TRD at this juncture isn’t worth the potential noise. So, he hooks TRD’s head, lifts him up and plants him face first into the mat with Stardriver (Stalling Brainbuster DDT)!!! TRD is down. Dane flips him over and makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…“THE ONLY STAR” ERIC DANE!!!!!
Smith: I don’t really know what to say other than…that was brutal.
Hood: Hey, at least The Road Dawg’s bike survived.
Smith: What’s this now? Dane’s calling for a microphone!
Hood: Alright! Dinner and a movie!
~A moment passes while a ringside attendant gets his shit together and gets The Only Star a hot mic, Dane taps it once and turns to face the hard camera.~
Dane: Well then…
~He lets it hang on the air as TRD finally manages to roll himself out of the ring with the help of the referee. Dane smirks.~
Dane: I’ve been saying it all week, and I’ll say it again right now, It’s good to be back in an OCW wrestling ring!
~Despite the crowd’s general distaste for The Only Star, this gets a decent pop.~
Dane: So, now that the formalities are done, let’s get down to brass tacks. Logan…
~Another pop, not for Logan.~
Dane: You know I’m coming after you, you know I’m going to beat your brains in, and you know I’m gonna take that Savage Championship from you. So, why don’t you just go ahead and polish it up real pretty for me, pry that ugly name-plate off the front of it, and pitter-patter on down here and save yourself some embarrassment by handing it over while you can still chew solid food.
~The fans get a good laugh at that one. Dane turns his attention to the entrance ramp and leans on the top rope, waiting.~
Smith: You know I doubt very seriously that Logan-
Hood: Has a pair of balls?
Smith: That’s not what I was going to say and you know it!
Hood: Was it? Do I?
~OCW owner Mike Zybala steps out, mic in hand. He’s ready to address Mr. Dane~
Smith: Well now the Owner is here!
Hood: Doesn’t he have a match to be getting ready for?
Smith: Yeah, a match with Logan involved as a matter of fact!
Hood: It’s all starting to come together now…
Smith: You’re an idiot.
~Mike Zybala, of course, has his own microphone.~
Zybala: Look here, Eric, we all know you’re a big hotshot and you’re used to getting what you want, when you want it…
~Dane smiles and nods, it’s always nice to be recognized.~
Zybala: ...but I’m not in the habit of just giving out title shots.
Dane: Is that so?
Zybala: It is. And besides that, Logan is already booked tonight!
Dane: Yeah, him and some broad against you and some broad. So do us both a favor and send him on out here now so I can mangle him and you can just pick up the pieces later! That way everybody wins…
~The Only Star chuckles.~
Dane: Well, everybody but Logan that is.
Zybala: As much as I’d love to see that, I’m afraid it’s just not gonna happen tonight, Dane!
~Eric give a shrug and a nod.~
Dane: Yeah, okay, fine. I know where he’s gonna be later on tonight anyway, now don’t I?
~With that he flips his mic back to the attendant at ringside and “The One You Love to Hate” starts up on the arena’s sound system again. Dane dexterously slips through ropes and out of the ring where a couple of the ringside fans are actually cheering and looking for high fives and the like.~
Hood: Logan’s says are numbered, Smith.
Smith: You’re sure?
Hood: Are you kidding? Dane’s called every shot he’s made here so far in OCW and he has yet to disappoint! If I were Logan I’d be looking into a life model decoy or something!
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Singles Match
Vincent “The Legend” Langston (30-5) vs. Roach (7-9)
~The OCW faithful who have faithfully filled the OCW Arena sit, full of faith that the impending match will bring them great fruit. Belvedere, standing in the ring, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~Lights go out then Halloween theme song begins to play then ”Reason to fight” by Disturbed hits the speakers and the light come back in as Roach makes his way out wearing Mike on his head. Roach slowly walks down the ramp. He gets to the bottom and slides into the ring under the lower rope, he stands straight up . He backs up and takes the Mike Myers mask off his head, he sets Mike on the turnbuckle and gets ready for the match~
Belvedere: From Windsor, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 265lbs…he is ROACH!!!
Smith: Roach back in action. It’s been a rough year for the OCW veteran.
Hood: Yea man, he looked like a breakout star in December. It’s been all downhill since.
Smith: Yes, his career was derailed just as it was beginning to really take off.
Hood: It all started to get fucked when he teamed with Alice. Coincidence? I THINK NOT
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 the Commissioner of OCW…he is Vincent “The Legend” Langston!!!
Smith: Second week in a row our Commissioner has requested in ring competition.
Hood: I guess that’s what happens when you get dropped on your head by a guy named Vossler. You seek REVENGE
Smith: I don’t know what Roach has to do with Vossler, but okay
Hood: They are men living a strong life with one name.
~Belvedere exits. The bell rings~
Smith: Langston looking for his second win in as many weeks. Roach, meanwhile, looking to make a huge statement.
Hood: This would be the biggest win for roaches since surviving the nuclear apocalypse.
Smith: I think that’s more of a theory, not an actual fact.
Hood: You just had to take the ONE thing away from their species, didn’t you?
~Roach gets right up in Langston’s face, showing his signature tenacity. He snarls and spits at Vincent’s feet. Langston looks down at the oddly colored spit. No telling what’s been in Roach’s mouth (no homo). Roach notices Langston’s diverted focus and delivers a forearm to the side of the commissioner’s head! Langston stumbles back, into the ropes. Roach shoots him off the ropes. Vincent hits the opposite ropes, bouncing off…Roach throws a lariat. Langston ducks and comes to an abrupt stop. Roach turns around…he’s caught with a quick, left jab, staggering the big man into a corner~
Smith: Sharp left jab by our commissioner!
Hood: That canvas is going to require DEEP CLEANING after this match.
Smith: Perhaps…I don’t think Roach is very picky when it comes to what he puts in his digestive system.
Hood: He’ll eat anything. Aside from Kale. He HATES Kale.
~Langston marches toward Roach. Roach tries to rise out of the corner, only to get bashed in the head with a double axe handle. His body is stunned, falling back into the buckles. Langston hooks Roach’s head, dragging the big man out of the corner. He hoists him up, holding him in the air before dropping Roach on his head with a brianbuster. Roach is down. The Commissioner sits up, takes a breath, and returns to his feet~
Smith: And things are taking a negative turn for Roach.
Hood: It’s the invention of RAID all over again.
Smith: So roaches are apparently equipped with the ability to survive a nuclear blast…but they can’t survive a household product?
Hood: Hey man, I’m no scientist. I just work here. Enough with this big brain speak.
~Vincent yanks Roach back up. Roach sways, clearly dazed. Langston delivers a flurry of punches, culminating in a headbutt. Roach nearly topples over. Vincent delivers a huge spinning heel kick!!! It SMACKS Roach right in the face. Roach falls backward…the ropes catch and shoot him forward. Langston accepts the gift, snaring Roach and taking him down with No Peace (Crossface)!!!! Roach yells and taps almost instantly. Scruff calls for the bell~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…VINCENT “THE LEGEND” LANGSTON!!!!!
Smith: Langston submits Roach with No Peace!
Hood: He won with that last week, too…didn’t he?
Smith: He did. Scars of War has defeated many competitors…but it appears as though Langston has turned his focus on this submission finisher of his.
Hood: Hey, nothing wrong with having two forms of finishing a match. Especially when you’ve got The Big Bifford roaming these parts.
Smith: Indeed.
~We cut backstage to the view of the office door of OCW Owner Mike Zybala. His nameplate is visible as the camera zooms out and shows Zybala’s Margarita Mix partner, Jenna, standing there, staring at the nameplate. With a heavy sigh, she knocks on the door. The door opens and out peaks the head of OCW Head of Security, Knux. He closes the door as quickly as it opened but only a few moments passed as he opens it again fully, welcoming Jenna into the office. Jenna walks in, approaching Zybala, who is spinning in a circle in his office chair.~
Jenna: Mr. Zybala...
Zybala: Really? Jenna, you can call me Mike!
Jenna: Okay… Mike… I’m here to collect my dad’s merchandise cheque.
~Zybala looks confused and blinks a few times before answering.~
Zybala:...... That should be in the payroll department. I don't go around handing out the checks. Knux, you can leave by the way.
~Knux nods and leaves the office. Zybala looks at Jenna.~
Zybala: So. Are you ready for tonight?
~Jenna reveals an envelope and passes it to Zybala. He begins to open it as Jenna speaks.~
Jenna: Payroll wants you to authorize that I can pick up his cheques, since I’m his only family here who can collect them… as for tonight… I’ve trained the last year for a moment like this. I don’t want to let you down… but I am worried about our chances at winning.
~Zybala takes the envelope and opens it. He pulls out the paper and reads the contents. Seeming pleased with what he reads, he signs and hands the paperwork back to Jenna.~
Zybala: Being worried is good. I don't know if your dad ever told you this, but overconfidence is a match killer. You go in expecting to lose, but do your damnedest to make sure that doesn't happen. You get what I'm saying?
Jenna: I get you, but that’s not what I’m talking about… I’m talking about… your list of enemies; Outsiders; your owner duties. Now the Mix… are you going to be able to focus on us getting to Declassified?
Zybala: Trust me kiddo, you have nothing to worry about. Outsider's is a little ways away, and I have a whole staff of people to help me with the owner duties. They do all the research of everything, give me the finished data to go over and I give the final word. My main worry is facing you one on one at the Mixer finals. Even though we'll probably develops a friendship, I won't go easy on you.
~Zybala says this with a wink and the smile of a man who has no worries~
Jenna: I’d be insulted if you did go easy on me. When I was trying to figure out if my dad was really my dad, I went through the Boardwalk catalog… you basically won every title there. I know you’re no pushover. Besides you running this place - I’m glad, as a wrestler, you’re my partner. I can’t wait to go out there and prove some people wrong about me.
Zybala: Lets go out there and show them how wrong they really are about us.
~Jenna nods, with a small smile of confidence, as she leaves Zybala’s office.~
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X-Factor #1 Contenders Match
Tony the Spider (10-9) vs. Robert Uchiha (0-1)
~The OCW Arena fans are yelling “WE GOT EVERYTHING WE EVER WANTED!” Belvedere looks around, clearly NOT A FAN of that song. The fans keep singing until they yell, in unison ‘YO YOU DEALIN WITH THE X-FACTOR!’ Belvedere clears his throat to a huge ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a number contender match in the X-Factor Division. The winner will receive an X-Factor Title Shot next week! Introducing first…
~A huge, pent up orgasm is released across the OCW Arena. A flood of juicy soundwaves descend toward the ring. Belvedere recoils with disgust…this man is a professional! How…WHY are these fans so into this shit? Anyway, he remains stoic, hiding his contempt for such tomfoolery. 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: Uchiha lost his debut match and, naturally, was rewarded with a #1 Contenders match the following week.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby.
Smith: Indeed.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~”JUMP” by Van Halen hits!!! A bunch of manufactured smoke via a moderate smoke machine fills the entrance ramp. A loud ‘HAHAHA!’ is heard as a small, rotund figure begins to emerge from within the smoke. It’s TONY THE SPIDER! His circular shades cover his jovial eyes. He’s sporting the signature yellow TONY THE SPIDER spray painted t-shirt. He’s wearing a pair of black biker shorts to go along with an old, dirty pair of white, New Balance shoes. And, let’s not forget, the signature YELLOW fanny pack strapped around his waist. He begins the march down the ramp, jiving his head back and forth like a chicken to the music. He reaches the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope~
Belvedere: And, emanating from Sally’s Doghouse…please welcome Tony the Spider!
Smith: Tony the Spider returning to action.
Hood: Where’s his tag title?
Smith: It isn’t HIS.
Hood: Hey, possession is like 9/8th’s of the law.
Smith: That…makes no sense.
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: Alright, while Tony claims a championship he has a shot to earn an actual title shot by winning tonight.
Hood: Take a good look at Tony, Robert. That’s you in, like, ten years.
Smith: You think he’s going to get married?
Hood: Fuck, good point. Nevermind…Tony’s life arch is beyond Robert’s reach.
~Scruff approaches Robert about his BLADE. Robert is unwilling to part with it. Scruff is growing annoyed. We turn our focus to Tony. He reaches up, slowly. We zoom in, tight on his shades. He slowly removes them to reveal a BLACK EYE. Tony’s hand reaches up, rubbing the war, puffy mass surrounding his ocular socket. He chuckles…with a hint of melancholy. Scruff turns, spotting Tony’s shiner. He walks up, asking Tony if he can continue. Tony gives a confident laugh, motioning around his waist~
Smith: Apparently Scruff is concerned that a black eye might be too much for Tony.
Hood: Sally’s got a mean right hook, Smith.
Smith: How would you know?
Hood: I’m just saying. She’s got a mean right hook.
~Tony hands Scruff his shades with a chuckle that says, “Keep these safe, cowboy.” Scruff nods and hands the shades through the ropes to Belvedere. Uchiha yells something in anime before charging at Tony!! Tony laughs and ducks. He runs toward the ring, his glorious mullet parties in the back. He hits the ropes and reaches for his fanny pack, unzipping it. Robert turns around. Tony procures a handful of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. He throws them at Robert, nailing him RIGHT IN THE FACE! Robert reaches for his eyes, yelling in pain. Tony comes to a stop and laughs~
Smith: Geezus.
Hood: You can say that again…probably smoke coming out of Uchiha’s eyes. Flamin Hot Cheetos are NO JOKE.
Smith: This is an embarrassment. Have we really sunk this low?
Hood: You act like there’s jobber jizz in the ring. This ain’t low, bro.
~Tony reaches into his fanny pack and pulls out a yellow set of brass knuckles! Scruff tries to stop Tony…but The Spider will not be denied. He places them over his right hand and grabs Uchiha with his left. Robert willingly capitulates to every physical command Tony is applying. Uchiha stands, already on the losing end of this contest. Tony reaches back for a jaw bruising shot. But Robert ducks!! Tony stumbles forward. Robert rubs his eyes, finally opening them. He looks around…he sees the fans watching with some form of amazement. He takes off, hitting the ropes. He bounces off and collapses to one knee yelling, “THAT HURT!!” Tony spins around, seeing a prone Robert. He has the brass knuckles still on hand. He approaches~
Smith: And, apparently hitting the ropes is too much pain for young Uchiha.
Hood: Just because he lives in his parents’ basement doesn’t qualify him as young.
Smith: You do have a point there, Hood.
Hood: I am a very pointy man.
~Tony looks prepared for a knux shot that is NO LAUGHING MATTER. That is, until he looks up, spotting something in the crowd. It is a woman hoisting up a sign that says “JUSTICE FOR CHIHUAHUAS.” Tony chuckles, nervously, backing away. Robert drops to all fours, holding the skin underneath his arm. It appears broken, bleeding…this poor boy needs to get out more~
Smith: Uh oh, Tony’s midweek transgressions are being brought to light.
Hood: Dude, it was a fucking Chihuahua.
Smith: So?
Hood: Those aren’t REAL dogs. It’s like a Pomeranian. They…they are, like, the toys you get in happy meals or out of cereal boxes. They mean NOTHING.
Smith: They mean the world to their owners!
Hood: If that’s the case, then their owners should be culled from society.
~Uchiha appears ready to roll over and die. He just wants his basement and his waifu…his precious, precious waifu. He can almost feel her tender touch. He smiles thinking about how, after several minutes of sensual grinding, he’ll turn her over, feeling that soft, cool backside before going to town. A trail of scent hits his nostrils. His eyes flare…he turns to spot…PIZZA ROLLS! It’s the same woman with the Chihuahua sign. She, apparently, is very well versed on what’s going on with the X-Factor division. Robert pops to all fours and begins galloping around the ring like a spastic dog~
Smith: And here we go…
Hood: Dude moves uncannily quick for a dude devoid of athleticism.
Smith: We all have hidden talents that are useless in our everyday lives.
Hood: This talent could be of some use. If he uses it correctly.
~Uchiha gallops into the back of Tony’s legs, taking him down!! Tony laughs, painfully, reaching for his legs. Uchiha continues galloping, trampling all over Tony, really putting the limbs to work. Tony’s body spasms and writhes like a victim absorbing a bunch of bullets. Uchiha is galloping a MUD HOLE in Tony. He finally stops and reaches his feet, beckoning for those Pizza Rolls. The woman holding them does the ‘throat slit’ gesture while pointing at Tony. Robert presses his palms together and does a bow…he now knows what he must do to achieve victory~
Smith: Why does she have pizza rolls? Fans are banned from bringing outside food into the arena!
Hood: She was probably bitching about a dog being murdered on OCW Television during the week. You really want to poke that bear?
Smith: Well, I guess you have a point.
Hood: Again, I am a pointy man.
~Robert reaches for the handle of his BLADE. Scruff yells out, “NO, NO, NO, NO!!” Robert unsheathes the BLADE. Women and children (and some men) shriek out of fear upon seeing the deadly BLADE. Tony gets to his knees, looking on the brink of defeat. His back faces Robert. Uchiha tries to twirl the blade. Scruff runs away…his body language clearly says, “fuck this.” The BLADE hits the top rope, awkwardly, nearly bouncing back and sliding Robert. Uchiha, however, manages to recover control…he crouches and points the BLADE at Tony~
Smith: Is this his take on HIDDEN BLADE?
Hood: Yes, but with an actual blade.
Smith: I mean…if he pulls this off…he’s got to be arrested, right?
Hood: Oh, most definitely, Chekhov.
~Robert yells something in anime before charging forward with his BLADE. He slides it toward Tony…but WHIFFS with great tenacity. The BLADE flies from his hand like a bat escaping a hitter’s grasp. Fans run and scream. Robert covers his mouth…his eyes widen. Tony rolls him up from behind!! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender to the X-Factor Championship…TONY THE SPIDER!!!!!
Smith: Oh my gosh! I hope those fans are okay!
Hood: This why we need Blade Control in this country!
Smith: Hey! Don’t use a potential tragedy to spin your agenda!
Hood: I have a feeling this line of conversation is detouring into dangerous territory.
Smith: Indeed…back to the fact. Tony the Spider capitalized on a mistake by Uchiha to score the pin and earn a shot at Skittlez!
Hood: Tony is competing for another title. What a fucking world. WEAK ASS BOOKING
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Tag Team Match
Technical Authority (0-0) vs. Tornado Alley (0-2)
~The fans in the arena are patiently watching Tornado Alley (Vortex and Debris) do their thing inside the ring. Vortex is spinning around, arms outstretched while Debris follows closely behind, dropping random bits of trash. The increasingly frustrated OCW employee tasked with cleaning up their mess follows Debris with a push broom, sweeping the trash out of the ring. Belvedere, a man of impeccable equanimity, swallows, clears his throat, and speaks~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…Vortex, Debris…Tornado Alley!
~The mildest reaction a reaction can be without descending from mild into lame~
Smith: Tornado Alley back in action.
Hood: During hurricane season…existential crisis?
Smith: I doubt it. But enough about Tornado Alley, they aren’t the story tonight.
Hood: What is the story, morning glory?
Smith: Your jokes are not appreciated.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~No Music. Kenneth Marshall walks out first, and looks over at Alec to ensure that he's not playing to the crowd. Instead, Marshall shouts final words of encouragement to his partner, before the two men walk with purpose towards the ring~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 456lbs…Kenneth Marshall and Alec Kirkland…they are Technical Authority!!!
~Marshall pauses at the bottom of the ramp and motions for Kirkland to enter the ring first. Alec doesn’t protest, charging forward and sliding in under the bottom rope. Marshall takes his time, walking up the steps, wiping his feet on the apron and entering like a professional. Alec looks at the sold out Arena. He’s feeling the vibe. Kenneth pats him on the back and kindly ushers him into their corner, working to keep the man focused. Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~
Smith: Getting our first look at Technical Authority. Kenneth Marshall is a no-nonsense veteran. Alec, on the other hand, is a little more of a wild card.
Hood: I wrote on here that these guys hate each other.
Smith: That doesn’t look like your hand writing.
Hood: Okay, so the whore backstage wrote it for me. Big deal.
Smith: It is a big deal! You’re not doing your job…but, to respond to ‘your’ note…I wouldn’t go so far as to call it hate, but these two have definitely failed to see eye to eye in the past.
~Marshall seems to suggest that he start the match. Alec is mildly disappointed but, it’s their first match, no need in blowing shit up this early. So, he takes a spot on the apron. Kenneth turns around and locates VORTEX, the unquestioned leader of Tornado Alley. Vortex marches toward Kenneth. Kenneth does the same. The two competitors meet in the center of the ring~
Smith: Marshall is a ring general, Hood. He takes wrestling very seriously.
Hood: Well, good for him.
Smith: Alec is more of a maverick. One of those naturally gifted individuals who can tend to lose focus at times because everything has come so easy, athletically.
Hood: Sounds like the star of the team, if you ask me!
~Vortex extends his hand for a friendly shake. Kenneth has no issue with this. He reaches out…Vortex pulls his arm back and begins to spin around in a ‘twister’ motion. Kenneth shakes his head. He reaches out, grabs Vortex by the hair, pulls him back, hooks his head and drops him with a Reverse DDT! Vortex is down. Marshall promptly returns to his feet, looking down at the foolish member of Tornado Alley~
Smith: Bold strategy by Vortex. It did not pay off.
Hood: He’s just trying to get himself over, Smith.
Smith: Instead, he’s about to go under.
Hood: You think you’re real clever, don’t you?
Smith: Only on Mondays
~Kirkland calls out from the apron. Kenneth looks down at the broken opponent. He looks over at Debris…the man’s expression says ‘I want no part of this.’ Marshall snares Vortex by the hair and rips him from the mat. He heads over and tags Alec in. Alec hops into the ring, over the top rope. He urges Kenneth to hook Vortex around the waist. Alec seems very eager. Kenneth does as Alec requests~
Smith: I think we’re about to see something painful.
Hood: Only if you’re Vortex.
Smith: Indeed.
~Alec measures Vortex up. He’s playing it up a bit. Kenneth is clearly anxious for Alec to get on with things. Kirkland finally lunges forward with a huge SUPERKICK into the face of Vortex! Kenneth utilizes the momentum by hoisting Vortex up and dropping him right on his head with a Backdrop Driver!!! Vortex goes stiff before his body turns limp. Marshall pops back to his feet. Alec rushes in and rolls Vortex over. Kenneth makes it to the apron, abiding by the rules. Alec chooses a sloppy cover…something Kenneth doesn’t seem too fond of. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…TECHNICAL AUTHORITY!!!!!
Smith: Dominating win for Technical Authority!
Hood: Yea man, these two are definitely talented. But shit’s easy against Tornado Alley…they start facing the legit teams, we could see some issues.
Smith: No doubt they’ve got some ironing out to do but it looks as though the talent is most certainly there.
~Alec looks ready to celebrate the win. Marshall steps in and motions that his partner needs to secure the leg, go for a tighter pin next time. Alec seems to not really care about the impromptu lesson…he wants to bask in the glow of victory. But, he’s not going to make a big deal about it~
Smith: Technical Authority looking strong in their debut!
Hood: Duce and Krayzie have a stacked division underneath them.
Smith: Indeed…I wouldn’t be surprised to see these two competing for the Tag Titles at some point in the not too distant future!
~OCW cameras cut backstage as we see Jenna, OCW newcomer and daughter of OCW Hall of Famer the Incredible One. The crowd cheers for her appearance as she walking around, looking for someone. She keeps glancing down hallways and into corners, a girl on a mission, before finally she spots who she is searching for as the camera pans, showing Erin Gordon. The crowd also cheers for her as Jenna takes a big breath before approaching Gordon.~
Jenna: Hey, Erin, do you got a second?
~Looking up from her contemplation, the Oncoming Storm offers up a faint smile at the sight of her opponent--albeit an awkward one. Erin clears her throat softly before she speaks.~
Erin Gordon: I reckon so, yeah. What’s up?
Jenna: I wanted to make an effort to approach you before our match. This may sound silly since I barely know you, but during my training - watching you compete here - it’s shown me that maybe I can have success in OCW. Basically, I’m looking forward to our match whatever the outcome and wanted to wish you good luck.
~Jenna smiles and extends her hand for a shake… and Erin doesn’t leave it hanging for long, her own calloused hand taking the younger woman’s and shaking it.~
Erin Gordon: Well thank you, first off--but I gotta admit to bein’ a little confused. Not that I don’t appreciate your kind words, but you’ve got a far better example to aspire to be like--Hell, you’ve got dozens of’em. I’m just a wrestler workin’ hard to get to the top, same as just about anyone else here.
~Jenna cocks her eyebrow, akin to her father, as she looks a little confused.~
Jenna: Far better example? Are you talking about my father?
~The Oncoming Storm nods.~
Erin Gordon: In the ring, at any rate. I ain’t gonna comment about beyond that since, honestly? It ain’t my place to. But beyond him, there’s been dozens upon dozens of talented wrestlers to walk through OCW’s doors and, while I wanna be remembered among’em, I ain’t earned it. Not yet.
Jenna: My father, yes, is a great wrestler. One of the best, if not the best. In terms of what he’s good at though, that’s it. I know the fans out there may not appreciate my crast comments about my “beloved” father - but he’s no role model.
~The crowd gives a mixed reaction, as she predicted, while she continues.~
Jenna: You’re right too - there have been plenty of people who have come and gone through OCW’s doors and some of these people have been successful. I guess what I wanted to do is give you recognition for not only your great start in OCW but also your cause. You set a great example for everyone. Most people who have walked through these doors have their own selfish agenda. Not Erin Gordon.
~An actual, full-on sheepish chuckle leaves Gordon as she shakes her head.~
Erin Gordon: I wouldn’t go that far since there ain’t no way to succeed ‘round here without it bein’ at someone’s expense, but thank you all the same. Good luck out there.
Jenna: Thanks. Looking forward to tearing the roof off the building.
~Jenna gives a smile and a nod before leaving Gordon’s side, the camera cutting to ringside soonafter.~
Smith: A rare showing of respect among opponents here tonight, Hood!
Hood: Do you got a bucket?
Smith: No… why do you need a bucket?
Hood: I’m going to puke, that’s why!
Smith: Oh, come off it! Surely not from this exchange?
Hood: Do you truly believe that they’ll stay friendly with each other? It’s to determine a shot for the OCW Championship!
Smith: Indeed, but there doesn’t always have to be good versus evil.
Hood: Makes for shit TV if you ask me.
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Tag Team Match
R.O.S.E. (4-1) vs. The Ministry of Parkness (2-1)
~It’s growing late in the Monday evening. The fans are still HYPED, however…they know some super sweet tag action is on the way! With Technical Authority showing that they are a force to be reckoned with, these fans are more than eager to see how the former champions respond. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a tag team match scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~Some UBER creepy, dark, demonic music starts to play. The same SMOKE MACHINE used earlier for Tony’s entrance fires up, delivering a cloud of GREEN smoke. How is the smoke turned green? Well, it appears as though someone has piled up a strand of Christmas lights in front of the smoke machine…replacing any non-green colored bulb with a green colored bulb. Modern solutions, people. Emerging through the smoke are Ubertaker and his minion, JAM G. They are in possession of those coveted OCW Tag Titles. The duo march to the ring trying to look ominous. An elderly woman spots Uber and yells out, “Hey! It’s me! Your Aunt’s friend, Mary! You’ve grown up to be so big.” Uber, trying to stay in character, nods while giving a surreptitious smile before going back to his DEVIOUS FACE. JAM G has no expression because he’s wearing a mask. They reach the ring and climb up the steps~
Belvedere: Hailing from some dark place. Please welcome Ubertaker and JAM G…they are the Ministry of Parkness!
Smith: Pretty brave of these two showing up with those tag titles.
Hood: Why shouldn’t they? They are the champs!
Smith: No they are not.
Hood: They look like the champs to me.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~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: And their opponents ... From Los Angeles, Califonia ....making their way to the ring at a combined weight of three hundred pounds .... Lilith ... Sarah Twilight ... they are 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: This has ‘disaster’ written all over it…if you’re a fan of the Ministry of Parkness.
Hood: They have fans?
Smith: I said IF.
Hood: I mean, Uber has his Aunt Ruth. But I don’t know anybody who likes JAM G.
Smith: Perhaps the local mask store.
Hood: Ah, yes…perhaps.
~Ubertaker removes the tag title. He tries handing it to Belvedere. Belvedere looks at it the title and walks away as if to say, “I don’t want no part of that shit.” Uber’s eyes narrow. He tries to look evil but comes off looking blind. He turns and hands the belt to JAM G, for safe keeping. JAM G drops them onto the top step of the ring stairs. The bell sounds. A loud SCREAM is heard. Uber turns around to spot Lilith charging at him~
Smith: Uh oh.
Hood: First time Uber has ever had a woman run toward him. He appears confused.
Smith: There’s running and then there’s charging. That is charging.
Hood: You never want woman and charging in the same sentence...it can get ugly.
~Lilith leaps into the air, taking Ubertaker down with a Thesz Press!!! They hit hard!! Uber looks up at her with wild eyes…is he about to be mauled? Raped? Both? He tries to decide if he’s willing to give sexual consent. There is no time…his decision is made for him. No sexual consent is needed because Lilith is there to kill him. She starts clawing at his face. Uber yells out. He reaches for his hood, pulling it over his face for protection. Lilith begins choking Uber. Scruff counts to five, forcing a break. Lilith release and gets to her feet…while returning to her feet, she knees Uber in the groin. We hear Uber groan through the fabric of his hoodie. Scruff pushes Lilith back to give Uber some space~
Smith: Lilith looking as vicious as ever with the claws in full effect here tonight.
Hood: She wants to get this match over as quick as she can. Remember she does have to compete in the main event tonight.
Smith: Indeed she does, but do you think it was a good idea for her to compete twice?
Hood: Of course I do. You know why?
Smith: Please spare me..
Hood: Because she's LILITH!
~Uber retreats to his corner where JAM G tries to console him. Lilith is still being restrained by Scruff as Uber uses the ropes to get to his feet. Once he does, Lilith shoves Scruff out of the way and races across the ring again. She leaps up an crushes the Ubertaker with a splash! Uber drops down in the corner and cowers, JAM G screams at Lilith to leave Uber alone. She stares at him and smiles, right before poking him in the eyes! JAM G clumsily falls from the apron and smacks the floor~
Smith: Well that wasn't very nice..
Hood: Who gives a fuck about being nice? R.O.S.E were cheated out of those tag titles that and Duce and his old ass dad didn't have the balls to even keep them.
Smith: Well to be fair, Duce and Krayzie were tied up with the questionable call..
Hood: What the fuck ever.. They lost fair and square.
~Lilith drags Uber by his hood across the ring towards her wife and makes the tag. Sarah enters with malice in her eyes, snatching Uber from the canvas. She lifts him up off his feet, places him in the corner upside down and tied in the tree of woe. She climbs the corner as Lilith cackles like a maniac. Twilight reaches the top and applies pressure on Uber's ankles which forces him to reach up in pain. Big mistake as Twilight jumps up and drives her full body weight through Uber with a double stomp! The crowd cringe from the impact of the move, JAM G has recovered on the outside and slides inside of the ring to come to his master's aid. JAM G gets destroyed by an incoming Lilith with a stunning spin elbow!~
Smith: And we can pretty much call this one. The MoP are absolutely no match for the former tag champions.
Hood: Damn right they're not and at Declassified.. I guarantee you'll be looking at the NEW two time tag champs in R.O.S.E..
Smith: Bold prediction there Hood.
Hood: Not a prediction.. a SPOILER ALERT!
~The crowd boos the former champions furiously. Twilight stands in the center of the ring, looking dominant as ever. Lilith crawls provocatively towards her lover, seductively pulling herself up Twilight as they now stand side by side. They embrace in a loving kiss which makes the fans erupt in violent jeers. R.O.S.E isn't fucked up.. Lilith bounces up and down gleefully pointing towards Ubertaker. Twilight smiles deviously as she heads back towards an unconscious Uber. She places him backfirst against the bottom buckle, looking ready to unleash the Bitch Breaker. She winds her knee back to unload hell but she's distracted as Tony the Spider and DeAngelo Vickers comes racing down the aisle to plead with her~
Smith: I'm glad somebody's down here to stop this.. we all remember what happened to Kitty Petrova..
Hood: Who?
Smith: Former Paradigm Champion?
Hood: Fuck all that, get those dweebs off the apron and let her destroy Uber.. Not like it's the first time..
~Twilight and Lillian are annoyed, complaining to Scruff. Tony and Vickers feel thankful that they stopped the inevitable. Soon they too are distracted as the OCW fans erupt with cheers. Duce and Krayzie now making their way down the aisle, looking ready to take back what belongs to them. Tony panics and goes to giving out orders. Vickers drops down and pulls Uber from the ring. JAM G sees what's going down and grabs the titles from the steps and takes off like a bat out of hell. He leaps over the guardrail like a seasoned veteran, nearly kicking a fan in the face!~
Smith: That would've been a lawsuit for sure..
Hood: He's good, Lou Pohl got his back.
Smith: Everyone one seems to be highly upset with the Ministry of Parkness.
Hood: Poor Sarah and Lilith, caught in the middle of this fuckery.
~Vickers carries Uber over his shoulders as him and Tony try to ease around ringside. Krayzie and Duce stalking like vultures. The tag champs nears and Vickers launches Uber right at them! Thankfully they catch Uber, a sigh of relief can be seen from his apprehended body. They toss him overhead though and Uber lands almost like a cat on his knee, foot and hands. The Ministry all take off in different directions, the father and son confused on which way to go. The duo does the most logical thing to them, they split up chasing after random members of the MoP.. Sarah Twilight looks ready to rip heads off as Lilith stomps and pouts around the ring in frustration~
~In OCW's press room, the room is someone full as reporters wait on some sort of announcement. After a moment, Mack O'Connor steps out to the podium, Treat Cassidy a few steps behind him. Mack exchanges a glance with Treat, Treat offering a nod of encouragement. Mack leans into the microphone~
Mack: I want to start by thanking everyone for joining us here this evening. This shouldn't take long.
~Mack takes a breath~
Mack: So... Mr. Cassidy and myself have been on the receiving end of insults and condescending remarks following the release of the roster's contracts. Specifically, many critics have pointed out that the OCW champion is making far less than some of his counterparts. I'd like to publicly address these criticisms... I'm not a greedy man, and I'm content with my contract. I know that, as champion and a Hall of Famer, I'm more than entitled to up to triple the amount I agreed to. With that said, I'm not here to penny pinch OCW, and I'm more than happy to take my reasonable contract so that OCW can use that money for other purposes: Give raises to other members of the roster, give raises to the staff, and possibly put money down to upgrade facilities. I will continue moving forward to do what I can to help improve this organization for the employees, roster, and especially the fans. Thank you so much. I'll take a few quick questions.
~Mack points to a reporter~
Reporter: Mack, can we get a photo of you wearing the Championship belt for this week's edition?
~Mack pauses~
Mack: No further questions. Thank you.
~Mack quickly
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Margarita Mix – 1st Round
Jenna/MikeZybala vs. Logan/Erin Gordon
~The lights in the OCW Arena suddenly change. The typical lighting you’d find in just about every generic, WEAK ASS arena setting become funky…tropical…some might even say it conjures up images of MARGARITAVILLE. Cyan and pink lighting consumes the arena as the Margarita Mix trophy appears on the OCWTron. It appears to be locked away, somewhere secure. On the nameplate we see ‘Chad Vargas – 2017’ and ‘Vincent Langston & [Retconned – Legal Reasons] – 2018’. The crowd pops! This can only mean one thing…it’s time to shake things up with the 2019 Margarita Mix! Belvedere clears his throat to a HUGE ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time to begin the 2019 Margarita Mix!!!
~Orgasmic ovation~
Belvedere: The opening match for the 2019 Mix is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~ The explosive bass beats of Taylor Swift's '...Ready For It?' try to destroy to OCW sound system as fans begin to cheer. Jenna walks out onto the stage, doing a hashtag symbol with her hands as she smiles to the crowd and then waves. A "#Jenna" chant begins as she makes her way down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans, and stopping to take selfies with young children~
Belvedere: Making her way to the ring, residing in Key West, Florida, weighing in this evening at 130lbs... JENNA!
~She climbs the turnbuckle and again throws the hashtag symbol up before doing a backflip off the turnbuckle. She begins to stretch for her match as her music fades out~
Smith: Jenna making her second in-ring appearance!
Hood: Who is this again?
Smith: You know who she is! She’s TIO’s daughter!
Hood: Oh, you mean Saxon’s side piece.
Smith: I’d watch it if I were you!
Belvedere: And, her tag team partner…
~Sizable pop from the OCW Arena as the Owner’s music hits. He was booed last week…but this week, after watching him get kicked in the face, the fans seem to have softened on Zybala. Speaking of, Mikey Z lunges out from behind the curtain, throwing superkicks into the air! He’s fired up, rushing down the ramp…he pauses, spotting a sign that says “Zybala for Emperor!” he smiles and gives a thumb up, before rushing to the ring and sliding in under the bottom rope. He pops to his feet, throwing a few more superkicks~
Belvedere: From Buffalo, New York…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 175lbs…he is the owner of Online Championship Wrestling…he is…Mike Zybala!!!
Smith: Mike Zybala back in the ring…first time he’s entered competition since Block Party.
Hood: How’s that chin looking? Is it busted up?
Smith: News circulating backstage is that he’s got some swelling and soreness but, outside of that, he’s ready to go.
Hood: Mike Best always knows how to leave a mark.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…introducing first…
~The overhead lights slowly go dark as the first strummed chords of 'Hurricane' fill the air, the crowd's cheers rising in response to the woman that is about to emerge. Gray lights flare into being around the curtain when the song starts proper, illuminating the outline of the Oncoming Storm as she stands with her shoulders square and her hands curled into fists at her sides. The wind machine is on behind her, blowing her hair around as her gaze moves over the assembled crowd and the surroundings alike... before it settles upon the ring. As 'Hurricane' cuts to the chorus, she makes her way down the aisle, not shying away from the hands that reach out for her~
A tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away.
Another fight into the night until nothing else remains.
How do we find harbor from the hurricane?
~Erin's focus never wavers, even as she grabs onto the ropes and hauls herself up onto the apron. Wiping her feet, she climbs into the ring between the top and middle ropes before she heads to her corner, turning to rest her back against the turnbuckles. Only then does she play a little to the crowd, a single fist thrusting itself skyward to earn more cheers as her music fades~
Belvedere: From Blooming Valley, Pennsylvania…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 154lbs…she is The Oncoming Storm…Erin Gordon!!!
Smith: Erin back in action…we haven’t seen much of her since Not Safe For Work.
Hood: She was close to earning a Craze Title shot…then took a break. But she’s back now and looking mighty fine.
Smith: Easy, Hood…this is 2019.
Hood: Oh fuck off, it’s not like I went all Tony the Spider on her!
Belvedere: And, her tag team partner…
~The slow march of a drum roll hits the speakers carrying into "Treachery" by Bleach. Logan slowly steps out onto the entrance ramp to a chorus of boos. He stands at the top of the ramp, slowing looking around at the masses. He's wearing his signature attire, with a black leather sleeveless vest over it. Crystal Sharpe comes out 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!!!
Smith: I think it’s safe to say that Logan is the hottest wrestler in OCW.
Hood: Yea, dude beat Vossler at Redacted. Last week he mauled The Road Dawg. This week, he looks to take another step…I’d like to say Langston or Vargas or Grenier or one of the other ‘veterans’ in this tournament is/are the favorite…but Logan has been pretty fucking unstoppable.
Smith: Indeed…however, he’s got some issues of his own…namely, Eric Dane.
Hood: Ah yea, that’s right. The Only Star is back and he wants that Savage Championship.
Smith: Yep and given Dane’s demeanor over the past few weeks, Logan will likely be looking over his shoulder this entire match.
~Belvedere exits. The bell sounds~
Smith: And here we go! The Margarita Mix is officially underway!
Hood: Okay, so who ya got in this one?
Smith: That’s tough. Jenna’s the most unproven…but she’s in there with the owner. Meanwhile, you’ve got Logan, one of the hottest wrestlers in OCW, teaming with the very underrated Erin Gordon.
Hood: In other words, we’ve got a fuck ton of talent in there right now.
Smith: Indeed
~Logan waits to see who’s going to start the match. It’s Zybala. Logan sneers and steps through the ropes, onto the apron. Erin looks at him like, “Thanks for discussing this.” It’s sarcasm, of course. Logan, annoyed by all the women in his life, ignores her non-verbal sarcasm. Erin turns around, making the best of the situation, focusing on Zybala. The two begin to circle one another~
Smith: Generally when a male and female square off, the male has the size advantage.
Hood: Not in this situation…I mean I guess Zybala weighs a little more.
Smith: About twenty pounds heavier. The height, however, is even.
Hood: There was a lot of talk about Zybala being a woman earlier this week…mostly from Logan. Do you think he’s one of those transformers?
Smith: I refuse to respond to that question.
~”The One You Love to Hate” - Rob Halford hits, suddenly. Erin and Zybala pause. Everyone, including the people in the ring, turn toward the entrance to spot THE ONLY STAR making his way down the ramp. Logan’s lone, good eye narrows. He grips the top rope, Savage Title still around his waist. Eric Dane marches down the ramp, avoiding eye contact with the individuals inside the squared circle. He chooses to walk around the side of the ring opposite Logan. He reaches the announce table and looks down at Smith and Hood~
Smith: Uh…err…Mr. Dane…nice to see you.
Hood: Get that man a mic, Smith! He’s here to learn us some things!
Smith: Well, this wasn’t on the program for tonight but, okay.
~Smith acquiesces and hands a mic to Dane. Dane finds a chair which is magically placed next to Smith. He sits and leans forward, interlocking his hands, finally placing his eyes on the ring. Logan, hands gripping the upper edge of his Savage Title, glares at Dane, ready to attack if the situation calls for it. Zybala heads toward the ropes, yelling at Dane~
Smith: Zybala doesn’t seem happy you’re out here, Eric.
Dane: I can promise you, I don’t give one quarter of one fuck what Zybala does or doesn’t seem happy about. In fact, he might wanna pay attention to the match at hand…
~Logan, picking up on a potential opening, rounds the ring post. Zybala, leaning over the top rope, continues to chastise Dane. Suddenly, a big boot flies into view, kicking Zybala across the face!!! Everyone is stunned!! Zybala spins around. Erin catches him. She looks to her right…then to her left…she’s been caught off guard. Logan yells “SLAM HIS ASS!” Erin, instincts perhaps kicking in, hoists Zybala up and drills him into the mat with a Uranage!!! Zybala hits hard, his body convulsing upon impact. Erin goes for the quick pin~
Dane: See what I mean?
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Zybala kicks out! That would have been terrible!
~Erin pops back to her feet, looking down at the owner. The mental math seems to be coming up with an incorrect equation. Fighting one’s boss is always sort of a moral conundrum. Logan is growing frustrated on the apron. He yells out “TAG ME!” Erin bends over to pull Zybala up and carry him into their corner. Zybala shoves her away and throws a SUPERKICK! Erin ducks, narrowly avoiding disaster. She turns around only to get small packaged by the OCW owner. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3…NO!
Smith: Whoa!! Erin’s hesitation nearly cost her and Logan their spot in the mix!
~Erin pops back to her feet. A gear has been shifted. Zybala kips up to his. Erin charges at him with a lariat. Her arm SLAPS into Zybala’s chest. Zybala staggers back. He lunges forward with a lariat of his own, right into Erin’s chest. Erin staggers back but fires up. The two get in each other’s face. Zybala throws a forearm. Erin responds with one of her own. Zybala fires back. Erin does the same. The two begin to trade wild, jaw jarring forearms into one another, each trying to gain the advantage…neither backing down. The fans begin to cheer the entertaining violence~
Smith: Well, Erin woke up. She’s borrowing some of Logan’s moral turpitude and applying it to the head and neck of Mike Zybala.
Dane: I’ll say this, that little girl can throw a ‘bo…
Hood: Yeah, she can take one too!
~Both competitors finally start to falter. The blows are taking their toll. Erin drills Zybala with a huge forearm. He staggers back before firing up and delivering one of his own! Erin stumbles into the ropes, thankful that they are there to catch her. Leaning against them, she looks at Zybala and yells, firing up. She charges at Zybala, spinning around with a roaring forearm. Zybala ducks. Erin runs into the ropes. She turns around only to be met with an enziguri from Zybala!! Erin falls through the ropes, onto the apron. She fights to her feet, stumbling a bit along the way due to a scattered equilibrium. Zybala leaps into the air and dropkicks Erin the face! Gordon flies off the apron and slams into the barricade…the fans at ringside scatter. Mikey Z turns to and tags Jenna~
Smith: Erin went for a knockout blow, but missed. Now, Mike Zybala is in charge.
Hood: That’s the funniest shit you’ve said all night…
~Jenna, standing on the apron, faces Erin. Erin struggles to her feet, using the aid of the barricade. Jenna leaps off, wraps her legs around Erin’s head, kicks off the barricade and spins around, tossing Erin toward the ring with a hurricanrana!!! Gordon’s body tumbles into the cloth hanging from the apron. Her upper body disappears under the ring. She is down, front first, moving very slowly. Jenna pops back to her feet, fired up~
Smith: She’s young, she’s athletic…she’s full of energy! That can be a hard opponent to defeat, Hood.
Hood: That also means she’s inexperienced and reckless as fuck. Isn’t that right, Mr. Dane?
Dane: Maybe, but there’s something to be said about recklessness, to a point. I can’t say there hasn’t been a time or two when I’ve had to just throw it all against the wall to see what stuck. Plus, don’t forget, she’s got this sport in her DNA!
~Jenna grabs Erin by the legs, dragging the larger woman out from under the ring. Unlike previous spots where opponents have found themselves tossed under the ring, Erin is not holding any sort of weapon. She’s recovering from the onslaught of kicks, forearms, and ranas to her head. Jenna grabs a handful of Erin’s hair and yanks her up, tossing Gordon back into the ring. Gordon rolls in under the bottom rope, coming to rest on her back, center of the canvas. Jenna leaps onto the apron, hops onto the top rope and springboards off with an elbow drop!! She drives the elbow right into Erin’s sternum, causing Gordon to cough and wheeze for air~
Smith: Jenna displaying some of the athleticism she inherited from her Hall of Fame father.
~Erin manages to sit up, clutching her chest. Jenna looks down, surprised as the woman’s will to rise up. It’s common for a rookie to underestimate her competition. Jenna throws a flush kick right into Jenna’s chest, attempting to prevent the necessary oxygen from returning. Erin fights to her feet, clutching her chest. She turns her back toward Jenna and stumbles near the ropes. Jenna, displaying instinct, keeps her body in between Erin and Logan. Erin turns around, leaning against the ropes. Jenna charges forward with a HUGE knife edged chop! Gordon leans forward. Jenna uses her momentum to jump over Erin’s head, she grabs onto Erin’s body and seamlessly transitions into a Tarantula lock!! Erin’s elevated…her body is being pulled on in painful fashion. She winces in pain, stifling any yells. Scruff rushes in, he begins a five count. He hits five and yells at Jenna to release. Jenna holds on for as long as she can until the threat of a DQ becomes very real. She finally releases and manages to manipulate the descent enough to land on her feet. Erin drops to her knees before collapsing to all fours. Her body is aching, so, she turns and leans over the middle rope, giving her shoulders a rest. Jenna’s eyes light up. She slides in, under the bottom rope~
Smith: Jenna is schooling the veteran, Erin Gordon! I knew she’d be good but I didn’t think she’d be good this quickly!
Hood: She’s a regular Beethoven!
Smith: Don’t you mean Mozart?
Hood: Who was the blind guy?
Smith: Neither.
~Jenna, back in the ring, takes off. She hits the ropes, bounces off and charges at Erin. She leaps forward, looking to hit ‘Don’t @ Me’ (619). And she does…NOT. Erin grabs young Jenna’s legs. Erin struggles to her feet, with Jenna’s legs in her grasp, showing great determination. Jenna kicks and wiggles, trying to break free (like Freddy Mercury). Erin manages to hook the legs under her arms…she falls back and catapults Jenna’s throat right into the middle rope!!! Jenna hits hard!!! She rolls into the ring, kicking her feet and coughing while clutching her throat. Erin turns and spots Logan. She then looks over at Jenna…another moment of moral conundrum ensues~
Smith: Erin’s got a great shot to get her team the win if she can muster the…well, I don’t know what you’d call it…perhaps instead of muster I should go with stomach…yea, there we go. If Erin can stomach tagging Logan, they will likely win this match.
Dane: But will they, though? I mean look at that guy, he looks like a raving lunatic.
~Logan’s eyes are ravenous. They are almost lust filled. Crystal, on the outside, looks up at Logan. Her eyes become green (not literally). Her envy is showing. Erin sees the look in Logan’s face and crawls toward the ropes, pulling herself up. Logan’s palm is inches away from Erin. He shakes it yelling, “Tag me, bitch!” Erin turns her back on Logan, going after Jenna. Jenna manages to get to her knees, holding her throat. She looks up and sees Mike Zybala. The benevolent owner has his arm outstretched, urging Jenna to make the tag. Jenna gets to her feet…two hands reach into view, grabbing her from behind, by the head. They belong to Erin. Erin pulls Jenna back across her knee with Downpour!!! Jenna’s back is cracked!! She hits the mat, arching her back in pain. Erin makes the cover~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kickout by young Jenna…but she’s gotta get out of there. She can’t take much more of this.
~Gordon does not relent, she’s got the prodigious second generation star on the proverbial ropes. Erin, back on her feet, yanks Jenna to hers. Jenna throws a wild palm strike, Erin ducks, spins around and SMACKS Jenna right in the face with Stiff Breeze (rolling elbow). Jenna’s knees collapse, she falls on her ass. Erin takes off, hitting the ropes, she bounces off and clobbers Jenna with Dragging Winds (sliding lariat)!!! Jenna is down!! Erin goes for the pin. Zybala slaps the top turnbuckle, urging Jenna to kick out. Logan looks on, pissed~
1!
2!
3!
NO!
Dane: Would ya look at that!
Smith: Jenna kicked out! My gosh the heart and determination within the precocious woman. Erin’s throwing everything aside from the kitchen sink at Jenna yet is unable to get the win.
Hood: Look, I know Erin likes doing the dishes. But it might be time to rip out the kitchen sink and put it to some violent use.
Dane: I’ll cosign on that.
~Logan yells out, like a broken record, “TAG ME!” His request goes unanswered. Erin yanks Jenna up. Jenna, on her feet, wobbles…about to collapse back to the mat. Erin measures her up, spins around and delivers Nor’easter!!!! But Jenna ducks!!! Erin spins around, her back winding up facing Jenna. Jenna jumps up, wraps her legs around Erin’s head and drops her with an inverted Frankensteiner!!! Erin lands, spiking the top of her head. She lands front first on the mat. Jenna is down. The fans stomp their feet…the arena sounds as if its rumbling. Logan is irate, throwing his hands in the air. Zybala hops up and down, yelling for the tag~
Smith: Jenna just flipped this match right on it’s head, literally!
Hood: Bitch needs to tag Logan.
Smith: I think she’s been trying to keep him from Jenna. Logan isn’t exactly the type of man you want hanging around a teenage girl.
Dane: Goddamn sex pervert… I knew I didn’t like that guy.
Hood: Hey, aren’t you-
~The Only Star cuts him off with a murderous glare.~
Dane: Don’t test me, Hood.
~Jenna looks over and spots Zybala. She begins to crawl toward her tag partner and owner of OCW. Erin does a half push up, spotting Logan. She rolls over and sees Jenna making her way toward Mike. Logan continues to yell for a tag. Jenna crawls and crawls…she gets closer and closer. Zybala reaches out, begging for the tag. The fans are about to go WILD. Jenna lunges for the tag but is...pulled back into the ring by Gordon! The Oncoming Storm sucks the wind right out of the Arena. She flips Jenna over and looks to grab Jenna’s other leg. Jenna wiggles, fighting to remain semi-free. She throws her free leg into the side of Erin’s leg, dropping Gordon to one knee. Jenna throws another kick, underneath Erin’s chin. The impact causes Erin to rise to her feet…albeit in a state of mental disarray. Jenna gets to her feet…she takes a few steps back before lunging forward with a front dropkick!!! The impact shoots Erin into her own corner, slamming hard. Logan reaches in and slaps Erin in the back! Scruff signals for the tag. Jenna’s eyes widen…she sees Logan entering into the ring. She turns and hurries toward Zybala, trying to reach him before Logan reaches her. Logan is stopped, momentarily by Scruff. He’s forced to remove his Savage Title. He hurriedly does so, dropping the belt to Sharpe. He finally enters and goes right after the struggling Jenna~
Dane: Let’s see what this peckerwood’s got…
Hood: HA! Peckerwood!
Smith: C’mon, Jenna! Make the tag! Hurry!
~Jenna lunges and MAKES THE TAG!! The approaching Logan comes to a stop, reevaluating the fluid situation. Zybala leaps into the ring, over the top rope. He charges at Logan, nailing him with right hands!! Logan stumbles toward the ropes, leaning against them. Zybala continues to pepper Logan’s head with strong right hands before shooting him across the ring…Logan reverse, into a short arm clothesline. Zybala ducks, jumps onto Logan’s back and takes him down with a Crucifix Bomb!! Logan hits hard! He rolls over, onto his knees. Zybala kips up…the crowd is going wild, chanting “ZYBALA!”~
Smith: He’s more than a superkick machine, ladies and gentlemen!
Dane: Let’s not go overboard, Smith, it’s one move…
~Logan is in a prime position for a SUPERKICK. Zybala looks ready to pull the trigger…but he backs off, faking Logan out! Logan dives front first onto the mat to dodge the ‘would be’ superkick. Zybala leaps into the air and comes crashing down into Logan’s back with a double foot stomp!!! Logan rolls around, reaching for his back in pain~
Dane: Well I’ll be damned, maybe the boss does know a thing or two…
Smith: Haha! Fake out by Zybala! You’d be a fool to think all this man does is superkick people!
Hood: Call me a fool, then. Because the only other move I remember him pulling off, aside from a superkick, is the ‘march down to the ring’.
~Zybala finds a neutral corner. He crouches down. Perhaps NOW is the time for the Zybala SUPERKICK. Logan struggles to his feet, knowing he’s got to fight to get back into the match. He succeeds. He turns around. Zybala throws a SUPERKICK. Logan ducks!! Logan wraps Zybala’s head in a sleeper!! The crowd responds with visceral fear. Zybala kicks his legs up, against the top rope, pushing back!! Logan falls over…Zybala lands on top of Logan in a pinning predicament. Logan’s arms are locked, he appears helpless. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!
NOOO
Smith: Logan used every ounce within that frame to hoist Zybala off of him just before three!
Hood: It’s tough pinning people when you’re the size of Ant-Man.
~Zybala, back on his feet, remains undeterred. His focus is true. Logan returns to his feet, still trying to catch up to Zybala’s speed and offensive flurry. Zybala runs forward and leaps into the air for a codebreaker!! Logan holds on, keeping Zybala up. He tries tossing Zybala over his head, but Zybala turns it into a sunset flip. He holds onto Logan’s legs, trying to bring the Savage Champion down! Logan is about to topple over when he drops to one knee, crushing his knee cap into Zybala’s throat!!! Zybala rolls away, instantly, reaching for his throat. The fans “BOOOOO”~
Smith: Ugh! Brutal! Why knee the man in the throat?
Dane: Because it hurts like fuck.
Hood: Because he wants to win?
~Logan snarls and farmer blows each nostril, one after the other. He’s regenerating…and he’s pissed. He grabs Zybala by the neck, ripping him off the mat. He throws Zybala into a corner and charges in with an elbow smash!! He steps back and begins to punch Mike in the face. The punches are sharp, precise, and harmful. Zybala leans into Logan…Logan grabs Mikey Z, hooks him by the leg and tosses him over with a Fisherman’s Suplex!! He foregoes the pin, preferring to taunt a guest commentator, instead~
Smith: Logan had better remain focused on the match. I know you two have had some recent issues…but the Mix should be his primary focus!
Dane: I’d say his primary focus might ought to be on saving his own life, I swear to fu-
~Logan yells something down at Eric Dane. We *think* we hear the word ‘WarGames’. But, we can’t be sure. What we do HEAR, loud and clear, is the sound of a headset being torn away and thrown to the ground. Logan’s back is already to the commentary team. He pulls Zybala up and locks in a sleeper~
Smith: Dane! Where are you going?
Hood: Oh shit, Logan provoked the Only Star. Here comes a supernova.
~Zybala tries fighting out of the sleeper, knowing where it leads. He manages to back Logan into the ropes…the Savage Champion, however, lifts a knee into Zybala’s kidney area, stifling his resistance. He’s about to finish Mike off with the Connector when a heavy, hard hitting knee SMASHES him in the back!!! Logan releases the sleeper and drops to his knees. The Only Star is on the apron with his knee (encased in a Vibranium Knee Brace) slightly lifted in the air~
Smith: Dane just kneed Logan in the back with that knee brace!
Hood: Payback is a bitch!
Smith: Payback for WHAT?!
Hood: For talking shit. Everybody knows you don’t talk shit to Eric Dane…the highest paid man in OCW.
~Dane steps into the ring. Scruff looks nervous. He tries to order Dane out. Dane throws Scruff to the side before leaping into the air and bringing that devastating knee down into Logan’s forehead!!! Logan writhes around a bit before coming to rest. Dane takes both hands and wraps them around Logan’s throat. Scruff, on his knees, sees the violence and has no choice…he calls for the bell. It rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners via Disqualification ...ERIN GORDON AND LOGAN!!!!!
Smith: Dang it!! He just ruined this great match!
Hood: Eric Dane, like Zybala’s wolverine…which somehow wound up in a person’s backyard in Key West, Florida…is marking his territory right in the center of that ring!
Smith: This just isn’t fair! Our owner has NEVER had a clean match in OCW. He’s always been screwed!
Hood: Too bad Jenna got stuck with Mr. Superkick. She should have spent more time seeking advice from her dad.
Smith: He’s more than just a Superkick!
~Crystal Sharpe can take no more. She slides into the ring, holding Logan’s belt. She slams it into the back of Eric Dane. Dane pauses. He’s unfazed, unless you call ‘annoyed’ being fazed. He stands and turns his attention toward the pregnant Sharpe. Her eyes widen. She becomes nervous…so nervous she’s practically paralyzed. Dane reaches out and grabs Sharpe by the hair. Crystal screams for help, but Logan is down. She drops Logan’s Savage Title~
Smith: Let her go!! Don’t do this…don’t be a monster!
Hood: What if Logan and Crystal’s kid is the fuckin anti-christ? Dane would then, theoretically, be saving humanity. Our savior!
~Dane is suddenly BLASTED from behind via a Savage Belt shot from – Erin Gordon!! He stumbles forward and turns around. Erin and flings a strap toward Crystal. She catches it. The two women, holding the Savage Title in unison, charge forward and slam the belt into Eric, sending him over the top rope and to the outside. He lands on his feet, stumbling back into the barricade. The crowd goes wild~
Smith: Yes! Finally! Some teamwork!
Hood: And, to think, it took a potential forced abortion to get Erin on the same page as team psycho.
Smith: Harsh terminology but, I guess, whatever works.
~The Only Star quickly regains his footing but rather than rushing the ring he jabs a finger at Gordon.~
Dane: You better find your way outta my business!
~And then he returns his attention to Crystal.~
Dane: And you’d better back the fuck off or next time I bring a coathanger!
~Dane, annoyed but having proven his point, exits the ringside area. Crystal and Erin check on the Savage Champion...Crystal throwing envious glares while doing so. Zybala watches Dane head up the ramp, shaking his head...he's extremely annoyed. Young Jenna sits on the apron, hanging her head...it's her first professional loss and, like every professional wrestler, she's taking it hard~
Smith: Eric Dane has ruined this portion of the Mix Bracket. What a shame.
Hood: I think he's sending Zybala a clear message. Give him that title shot and get out of his way...or else.
Smith: I'm sure our owner will have something for Eric Dane...whether or not Eric Dane likes it is another story. Regardless, Logan and Erin Gordon will advance to meet the winner of tonight's main event.
~The OCW Newcomer of July, Crash Rodriguez is sitting on a production box, lacing his boots. He seems calm and focused, yet on the verge of snapping any minute. As he ties the boots tight, he sits up and pulls out a pack of smokes from his pocket. Taking one out, he places it between his lips and lights it with the familiar silver zippo. With a deep inhale, he releases the smoke, a calmness flows through his body. But that's suddenly interrupted as the sounds of feet racing down the corridor catches his attention. Looking up, he sees none other than one of his opponents for the night, Duce Jones coming to a halt near him. Duce's breathing was labored as he appears to have been running for a substantial amount of time. He tries to catch his breath as he places his hands on his knees. Crash curiously looks down on him as Duce appears to be heavily exhausted~
Crash Rodriguez: You alright?
~Duce is unable to respond as he continues to try and calm down, holding up a finger, asking Crash to give him a second. Jones stands up straight and inhales deep himself, trying to gather as much oxygen as he can~
Duce Jones: Wooo shit!
~Crash continues to give Duce the side eye.. Jones looks over at Rodriguez who continues to casually smoke his cigarette~
Duce Jones: Have… you seen… ~takes another breath~ three…
~Duce pauses as he takes a seat on the production box next to Rodriguez. Crash appears apprehensive at first, the thought of what his opponent in tonight's main event had up his sleeve. Duce is finally able to calm down as he looks over at the anxious Crooked Man~
Duce Jones: My bad… I kno' dis is kinda awkward an' shit but I was wonderin' if ya seen three goofy lookin' muthafuckas runnin' round here wit somethin' dat don't belong ta 'em?
Crash Rodriguez: Still looking for those tag belts? Don't you think tonight's match is a bit more important?
~Crash hops off the production box taking another puff. He lowers his guard a bit, yet remains ready incase his opponent tries anything. Duce looks over at Crash, a bit amused~
Duce Jones: No doubt I got you an' Lilian on my brain.. I'll be ready when dat bell rangs.. It's just….
~Duce looks down in disappointment, contemplating his next comment~
Duce Jones: How tha fuck? Dat's all I been askin' myself y'kno'? How tha fuck did I let dem…?
~Jones appears a bit heartbroken as he points his arms straight out, almost causing Crash to have a flex reaction but he restrains himself~
Duce Jones: Damn.. here I am.. bout ta lay all my troubles on you an' ya gotta team wit Lilian…
~Jones shakes his head~
Duce Jones: What's tha odds'a dat shit happenin'?
Crash Rodriguez: I don’t know the odds but I don’t like em. It’s obvious I am not thrilled about pairing with her. I WOULD RATHER SMASH HER SKULL IN. I’d rather slap her face than tag her hand, but don’t think I’m not focused on beat you and Stevens tonight. No offense.
~Crash casually takes a final puff of tobacco before throwing the remainder to the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. Jones smiles, his platinum plated grill shining bright~
Duce Jones: None taken my guy.. Real recognize real.. An' it's gonna be a pleasure ta share dat rang wit ya.. Hell I kno' I'm gonna have a good time kickin' ha ass.. But it's somethin' bout ya bruh..
~Jones nods his head in affirmation, looking his opponent up and down.. he then holds up his fist for Crash~
Duce Jones: May tha best team win….
~Crash eyes Duce’s fist for a second, before deciding to bump his fist. Crash nods at his opponent~
Crash Rodriguez: Nice to finally meet somebody who feels they don’t have to talk up their game. I’ll see you in the ring.
~The Crooked Man begins to walk away before stopping and pointing down the corridor to his right~
Crash Rodriguez: They went that way, just so you know.
Duce Jones: Dat way?
~Duce points in the same direction that Crash is pointing and Rodriguez nods~
Duce Jones: Good lookin' out..
~Jones hops off of the production box and heads in that direction as Rodriguez continues on his path~
~We cut backstage to find R.O.S.E. exiting their locker room. Both Sarah Twilight and Lilith out of their ring gear and dressed in their street clothes. The couple carries their bags with them as they make their way towards the parking lot. Lilith is holding her dark furred bear under her arm, her other two in their travel case.~
Hood: I think Lilith is making good on her promise!
Smith: She’s … actually walking out on her tag match with Crash?!
~AKB catches up with the two of them before they can exit the building.~
AKB: Lilith! Sarah! Hang on a second!
~Lilith glares at the interviewer before Sarah even has chance to look in his direction.~
Lilith: What the FUCK do you want?!
~AKB jumps back a little and recomposes himself to do his job.~
AKB: Well …. Lilith … you still have a match to compete in … and it’s next. Where are you going?
~Now Sarah steps in, placing an arm in front of Lilith to prevent her from demolishing this guy.~
Sarah: Where does it look like she’s going? We’re LEAVING!
AKB: I … I can see that but, she’s scheduled to take part in the Mar---
~Lilith pushes Sarah aside as she lashes out on the interviewer, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pinning him up against a wall. Lilith practically snarls into his face as she proceeds to scream at him.~
Lilith: MY PARTNER IS SARAH TWILIGHT!!! CRASH CAN GO FUCK HIMSELF!!! DON'T ASK STUPID QUESTIONS YOU PATHETIC LITTLE SHIT!!!
~Lilith drops him and straightens up his shirt, ruffling up his hair and throwing his head back. ~
Lilith: Now, do you have any more questions for me?! Or are you going to leave us THE HELL ALONE?!!
~AKB places his hands in front of him, clearly not wanting any trouble as he backs away~
AKB: Nothing else. Have a good evening.
~Lilith takes hold of Sarah’s hand and the couple continue to the parking lot. The cameras follow them as they get into their Jeep Wrangler and leave the arena.~
Smith: Crash Rodriguez is now going to be on his own against two very capable competitors! Man, he really did have bad luck with his pairing for the mix.
Hood: It’s all about where loyalty lies. Lilith made that very clear. R.O.S.E. only has one thing on their mind right now and that’s the OCW Tag Team Championships.
Smith: Crash isn’t going to be happy about this. And on the flip side, if you’re Vossler and watching this … what has to be going through your head? Is Sarah Twilight going to do the same thing to him next week?
Hood: That’s a good question. I think if I’m Vossler, I’m going to spend the next week making sure I’m on the same page with Twilight. I don’t know what’s gonna happen but this just may have changed the entire course of the Margarita Mix!
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Margarita Mix – 1st Round
Scott Stevens/Duce Jones vs. Crash Rodriguez/Lilith
~The OCW Arena lights transition back into their Margarita Mix hue! The fans buzz…we spot a few individuals chugging margaritas. Others, standing around, rush to the concession stand before they close…this is definitely Margarita drinking weather. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his opulent throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following match is a first round contest in the Margarita Mix tournament!! It is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area as a guitar begins~
♫ “God Was Never On Your Side” by Motorhead♫
~The video screen lights up and static appears before silhouettes fill the screen as the arena is polluted in jeers. The crowd knows who is about to walk out and they are letting him know it by chanting his favorite chant as the silhouettes come together to form a white mask as red letters slowly appear and form a message and that message reads in bold, capitalized letters… SCOTT STEVENS~
Belvedere: Now coming to the ring, from The Great State of Texas……………
~The wait is finally over as a spotlight shines towards the top of the entrance ramp and Scott Stevens appears from behind the curtain wearing black suit and the ominous white mask. As Stevens makes his way down the ramp he is focused on what is in front of him and ignores the vocal bashers~
Belvedere: Weighing in at 256 pounds…he is….SCOTT! STEEEEEEEVEEEEEEEENS!
~Stevens slowly makes his way around the ring until he reaches the nearest set of ring steps and proceeds to enter the ring. Once inside, Stevens goes to the nearest corner and ascends the ropes; looking out amongst the crowd he slowly takes off his mask and places takes a long look at it before dropping to the canvas as a loud chant erupts from the crowd.~
“FUCK YOU, STEVENS!” Clap x5
~The Texan shows no emotion as places the mask and his suit jacket under the bottom rope as he stretches out on the ropes waiting for the rest of the competitors~
Smith: Scott Stevens back in action after losing a tough match to Lurrr.
Hood: No shame in losing to Lurrr…especially after kicking out of THREE Wake Up Calls.
Smith: Scott Stevens is a hard headed man, in more ways than one!
Hood: I feel this dude is going to break out at some point…just waiting on it to all come together.
Belvedere: And, his tag team partner…
~The fans are buzzing, but soon turn to a mixed reaction as a voice begins to speak through the PA system~
“And the whole world loves it when you sing the blues… Da. Da.. Da. Da. Da.. Da….”
~The opening sounds of “Godspeed” by Don Trip begins to play as the lights inside of the arena turn a crimson hue color, soon the stage filling up with smoke. After about a minute of waiting, Duce Jones slowly emerge through the fog, mixed emotions coming from the crowd.~
Belvedere: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds! From Memphis, Tennessee… DUCE JONES!
~Slowly making his way towards the ring, Jones ignores the cheers and jeers that the fans are giving, as he soon makes it to ringside. Climbing onto the apron, Duce goes to the corner to his right, climbing onto the second rope and peering out into the crowd. Finally done, he jumps over the top rope, landing inside of the ring and removes his hooded vest as he prepares for action~
Smith: It’s been a strange few weeks for Duce Jones. It started on a high, winning the OCW Tag Team Titles. Then some mess involving HOW took place…which, I’m told the powers that be are still ironing out. After that, he saw his freshly earned tag titles taken by the Ministry of Parkness.
Hood: Should have kept the belts on R.O.S.E.
Smith: You may get your wish, Hood. They are gearing up for a rematch at Declassified.
Hood: I can’t believe Lilith is showing up to Declassified. Doesn’t she realize they may recognize her, realize she escaped, and abduct her back into captivity?
Belvedere: And, their opponents…introducing first…
~ As the opening riff of "21st Century Schizoid Man" fills the arena, Crash Rodriguez, wearing a crown of barbed wire. starts to walk down the ramp. As the second verse, "Blood Rack, Barbed Wire", plays Crash holds his head and starts to squeal and shaked, as if calming the pain inside his head. As he regains his composure, he removes his barbed wire crown and he enters the ring as the solo begins playing, he leans against a turnbuckle and falls to a seated position, rocking back in forth until the solo fades away~
Belvedere: From Kansas City, Missouri…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 204lbs…“The Crooked Man” Crash Rodriguez!!!
Smith: Crash Rodriguez, the reigning newcomer of the month for July!
Hood: Last time we saw this dude he was getting put through a table by Ed Houston.
Smith: That was one heck of a match…unfortunately, someone had to come up short and that someone was Crash. However, I see big things in this man’s future.
Hood: Dude could win the Mix, Smith.
Smith: He’s got a 1/16 shot!
Belvedere: And, his tag team partner…
~'Imaginary-Remix' by Evanescence hits. The camera zooms in, focusing on the entrance ramp as the people in attendance await the arrival of Lilith~
Smith: Lilith taking her time.
Hood: There may have been some leftover cookies in catering.
Smith: Seriously? I thought they were all gone.
Hood: Relax…I’m sure they were all gone. I’m just trying to justify her tardiness.
~Our POV remains focused on the still, lifeless curtain. Fans begin to grumble. Where IS Lilith? The song’s about halfway expired by this point. The shot shifts to the ring. Duce and Stevens are slightly annoyed with Duce having this ‘figures’ expression. Crash is showing double the annoyance, given it’s his tag partner who is apparently AWOL~
Smith: I…I don’t think she’s coming?
Hood: That’s with an ‘o’ and one ‘m’, right?
Smith: Of course! Do I look like some kind of reprobate to you?
Hood: Normally I wouldn’t ask…but when it…com…err…when it relates to Lilith and Twilight, I must be sure.
~The song comes to a close. There is no Lilith. Crash paces, trying hard not to lose his temper. Belvedere reaches toward his ear, eating the information he’s being fed. He nods and speaks~
Belvedere: I have just been informed that this match will begin with or without Lilith! If Lilith does not show up, Crash will be forced to compete in a two against one handicap scenario.
~Crash is nearing the point of becoming livid. He walks up to Belvedere…Scruff gets in the way, preventing Crash from reaching OCW’s famous ring announcer. Belvedere exits the ring. Scruff, while holding Crash back, signals for the bell. It rings. Crash is furious. He shoves Scruff back and balls up his fist, ready to strike the ref~
Smith: Don’t do it, Crash! I know these odds aren’t in your favor…but if you hit Scruff, you’ll be disqualified!
Hood: Fuckin Lilith. She’s the worst!
Smith: Maybe she got held up, Hood. She could come down here at any second…another reason for Crash to control his composure!
Hood: Man, Crash is already battling his psychosis. Now they pair him with LILITH? It’s like OCW didn’t WANT him to win the Mix.
~Duce flies into view with a knee lift, stabbing Crash right in the spine!! Crash stumbles into the ropes. This allows Belvedere a chance to get out of the ring. Duce stays on top of Crash, smashing him in the back with forearm after forearm. He beats Crash down onto one knee…he clasps his hands together and bashes Crash in the back of the head with a double axe handler!! Crash flips over, landing on his back, atop the mat. Duce drops his knee into Crash’s throat, cutting off his air. Scruff begins the five count~
Smith: Duce Jones is really taking it to Crash!
Hood: Talk about some WEAK ASS BOOKING. Dude’s out here, all alone in a two on one match AND he gets jumped from behind.
Smith: These are the hazards of being paired with a stranger, Hood.
Hood: And this is AFTER Lilith made him compete in some weird as fuck obstacle course.
~Duce removes the knee. Crash rolls onto the apron, coughing, holding his throat. He uses the ropes to pull himself up. Duce takes off, hitting the ropes, he charges toward Crash and jumps up with a D-Trigga! Crash drops to the apron!!! Duce gets hung up in the ropes. Crash rolls in under the bottom rope. Duce does his best to get untangled…he does and turns around only to get SMACKED in the head with a roundhouse kick!!! Duce staggers into a corner. Crash charges in with a SPEAR!!! After the spear, he uses his momentum to flip over, wrapping his legs around Duce’s head and tossing him out of the corner, into the center of the ring with a Frankensteiner!!! Duce hits hard, arching his back in pain~
Smith: Crash flipping the momentum…what a move!
Hood: Duce went for the D-Trigga and it cost him. Rumor has it the D-Trigga is the most used move in all of pro wrestling.
Smith: I’m not sure how a person could accurately calculate such a stat.
Hood: Me neither…but they can, and did.
~Duce tries crawling toward the big Texan, Scott Stevens. Crash rushes up, fish hooking Duce’s mouth. Duce flips over and kicks Crash away. Crash stumbles back before charging in and throwing a penalty kick at Duce’s head. Duce ducks down and kips up. He spins around…Crash stumbles near Duce’s corner, getting a good look at the huge Texan. He hesitates before turning around. Duce leaps forward with a D-Trigga. Crash spins and hooks Duce around the waist. Duce reaches out for the tag but Crash hoists him up and drops him on his head with a German Suplex before Duce can make the tag. Duce hits hard, reaching for his head and neck~
Smith: And still no Lilith.
Hood: Maybe he doesn’t need Lilith. Guy might be better off without her.
Smith: Still doesn’t make it right. Why sign up for a tag tournament if you don’t want to tag with anyone other than your wife?
Hood: Because, Lilith.
~Crash, back on his feet, stands over Duce…he extends fully and dives with a headbutt right into Duce’s face!! Duce reaches for his face, kicking his feet. Crash rises to his knees and starts to choke and gouge Duce. Duce yells out, Scruff rushes in, administering the five count. Crash releases at the count of five. He grabs Duce by the head and begins to smash the back of his skull into the mat, repeatedly~
Smith: Crash is taking the gloves off, so to speak. We’re seeing a more violent version of Mr. Rodriguez.
Hood: Yea, he attempted to turn up to eleven at Redacted and it cost him.
Smith: Indeed. But that sort of insane behavior may be necessary in this sort of scenario.
Hood: You mean this fuckening?
Smith: An unfortunate situation for Crash, to be sure.
~Crash ceases with the pounding. Duce is down. The Crooked Man reaches his feet, finally showing some semblance of sanity. Duce, instinctively, reaches up…Crash grabs his arm and pulls Duce to his feet before whipping him roughly into the nearest corner. Duce hits hard. Crash’s back is facing Duce…he turns around and charges in with a HUGE splash. He backs away and begins to unload on Duce with a wild flurry of lefts and rights. The man is going OFF on Duce, pummeling him like the fucker owes him money or fucked his wife…or fucking his wife for money and never paid. Either way, he’s really giving it to Mr. Jones~
Smith: Crash calls that Crash Report!
Hood: He’s really laying it in, Smith. This would be a good time to tag in Lilith…let her take a few blows to the mouth. Oh wait, that’s right…SHE NO SHOWED HER MATCH.
Smith: Yes, we know. However, to Crash’s credit, he’s making the most of an unfortunate situation.
Hood: We get a DQ in our first Mix Match…and now this. The Mix is off to a strange start.
~Crash finally ends the punching. Duce leans forward, out of it. He’s gasping for air…his face looks on the verge of puffing out due to internal bleeding. Crash snares Duce by the head and drags him toward the middle of the ring. He flips Duce around and hooks his head. He looks at Stevens, the angry Texan is itching to get in the ring~
Smith: Crash is looking to end it with Twisted Memories!
Hood: If the dude pulls this off then I say we just give him the Mix trophy.
Smith: It would be a tremendous feat…but, that might be a bit much.
Hood: You’re always holding the young guys down, Mr. Glass Ceiling.
~Crash does the ‘throat slit’ while staring, maniacally at Stevens. Stevens shakes his head, grits his teeth and chokes the top rope with both hands. His knuckles are white with tension. Crash spins Duce over…Duce slips out and shoves Crash away. Crash hurries forward only to eat a D-Trigga!!! He staggers…Duce delivers a second D-Trigga!!! Crash falls into the ropes, landing on the apron. Duce drops to one knee. Stevens is across the ring, behind him. He looks over his shoulder…Stevens extends his arm~
Smith: Two D-Triggas!! Crash is down!
Hood: And Stevens is aroused…not, in that sort of way…he’s just ready to get in there and give it to Crash…err, umm…fuck, my phrasing is off.
Smith: That’s okay, Hood. We’re all prone to an off night here and there.
Hood: Too much drinking yesterday. Gets me every time.
~Duce gets to his feet and turns around. He hesitates, wincing, feeling the pain from Crash’s offensive onslaught. He shakes it off and focuses…his mission is clear, tag in the former HOW Champion. Stevens has his arm stretched as far as it can go and, since the dude isn’t fucking Gumby, it won’t reach any further. Duce staggers around, taking his time, unintentionally. Crash fights to his feet. He sees Duce heading for Stevens. Crash realizes what this means…the advantage coming into play. He steps through the ropes. Duce is nearing Stevens..he’s just about there. Crash charges forward and throws a huge boot. Duce hears Crash coming and moves out of the way. Crash’s boot DRILLS Stevens in the face!! Scott falls off the apron and lands hard on the outside. Crash hops over the top rope, again utilizing his momentum. He climbs to the top buckle and looks down. Duce looks up…Crash leaps off with a cross body…but Duce catches him with a CODEBREAKER. Crash lands face first on the mat. Duce rolls him over for the pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Kick out by Crash! He was able to prevent Stevens from coming in but that two on one disadvantage still cost him.
Hood: What do you think Lilith is doing right now? Do you think she is murdering a litter of kittens?
Smith: Well, I’d certainly hope not.
Hood: I really hope Crash pays her back for this shit.
~Duce pops to his feet. He’s fired up, feeling the energy, riding the momentum! He pulls Crash up and grabs his arms, looking for a ripcord headbutt! He pulls Crash in…but Crash gets his knee up!!! Duce’s forehead slams into Crash’s knee!! He lets go of Crash’s arms and staggers back. Crash reaches his feet, shaking his head, trying to get his mind clear. He boots Duce in the gut, hooks him and drops him with The Crash Report (Avalanche DDT)!!! Duce hits hard!!! Crash rolls him over for the pin…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!
NOOO
Smith: What the heck?
Hood: Stevens yanked him out!
Smith: Talk about unfair!
~Stevens spins Crash around and socks him in the face with a HUGE right hand. Crash leans against the apron, reeling. Stevens snares Crash and throws him toward the ramp. Crash tumbles up the ramp, winding up on his ass. Scruff looks through the ropes, yelling at Stevens. Duce is still down. Stevens stalks Crash, pulling him back to his feet. He throws Crash off the ramp!! Crash slams into the barricade. The fans in the front row scatter. Stevens hops off the ramp. Crash is hanging over the barricade, his upper body leaning into the crowd~
Smith: Disqualify them, Scruff!
Hood: I think Scruff wants to give these teams some leeway, given what’s at stake.
Smith: Leeway for one team penalizes the other!
~Stevens hops over the barricade, into the crowd. Scruff begins a count. He yells ‘ONE!’ Stevens grabs Crash by the head and drops him with Toxic Sting (Cutter) across the barricade!!!! Crash hits hard and falls to the floor, right outside the barricade. Stevens returns to his feet…he eyes the fans around him…they back away. Scruff yells “TWO!”~
Smith: Oh my gosh! He drops drove Crash’s head, neck, and chest into that barricade! Crash might be injured!
Hood: Scruff is ruthless, man. In there counting.
Smith: Yea, we saw a DQ in the first Mix match. I’m not sure why we aren’t getting one here.
Hood: If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because Stevens is IN the match whereas Dane was not.
Smith: Still doesn’t work for me.
Hood: yea, well fuck off.
~Scruff yells “THREE!” Stevens steps over the barricade and walks over Crash, heading for the ring. Scruff yells “FOUR!” Stevens marches up the steps. Scruff yells “FIVE!” Duce starts to stir, returning to his feet. Scruff yells “SIX!”~
Smith: C’mon, Crash! Get up!
Hood: Why? So he can get his ass kicked some more? Might be time to call it a night and regroup for another day when he doesn’t have a shitty partner.
Smith: Maybe Duce will step in and break this count.
~Scruff yells “SEVEN!” Duce gets to one knee. He stares at the canvas, shaking his head. Crash starts to move! He reaches up, grabbing the side of the ramp, trying to crawl back onto it. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Duce gets to his feet and turns around, he sees Crash rolling onto the apron and sitting up. Scruff yells “NINE!” Duce heads for the ropes but Stevens, on the apron, extends his hand, stopping Duce from breaking the count by exiting the ring. Crash gets to his feet…he starts to march toward the ring. Scruff hesitates…he waits…he holds. Crash drops to his knees! Scruff yells “TEN!” and calls for the bell. The fans are disappointed…they begin to boo. Duce looks over at Stevens, not exactly thrilled with the outcome~
Belvedere: Here are your winners via countout…DUCE JONES AND SCOTT STEVENS
Smith: Disgusting!
Hood: Hey, take a win however you can get it.
Smith: Lilith no showed. Crash fought his guts out…he appeared to have the win only for Stevens to take him down and cost him the Mix!
Hood: Too bad, so sad.
~Stevens hops off the apron and heads up the ramp. He passes Crash but gives the man zero attention. Duce leans over the top rope, dealing with some moral strife~
Smith: Two Mix matches, two questionable outcomes.
Hood: Hey, anything can happen, Smith.
Smith: Well, that’s it for us everyone. Thanks for tuning in! We’ll see you next week.
~Fade to black~