OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! Monday, February 4th 2019
From The OCW Arena in Key West, Florida

~Why do we always make this mistake? Why, when given the option, do we choose to take FRIDAY, rather than MONDAY off? It’s Super Bowl weekend…SUNDAY is the climax, the day when our bodies are most ripe with alcohol. Which eventually transforms into a downtrodden, depressed, dilapidated Monday morning experience. So why oh why don’t we take Monday off? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Oh well, the punishment over that short sighted decision is beginning to wane. It’s Monday evening. All day we’ve listened to people argue over whether or not last night’s game was the worst Super Bowl in history. Personally, we enjoyed the game. We’re also fans of the Patriots – but we don’t really go around bragging about that, too much. It’s nice to be home, in the quiet, air conditioned confines of our personal space. We sit back on the couch with a Gatorade in our hand. We begin to think about Throwback. While the NFL continues to parade their static FACE…the FACE of OCW has changed. One week ago we saw Paul Paras dethrone Matt Meyhu. It’s a NEW ERA…and it begins tonight! This gives us a burst of energy, enthusiasm! We turn on the TV to find that awesome OCW logo…it fades into the Massacre graphic before cutting to the sold out OCW Arena!! The fans are on their feet, chanting the iconic acronym that stands for Online Championship Wrestling. We land on Smith and Hood who appear ready to go~

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

Hood: Back again…we survived ANOTHER PPV

Smith: Indeed we did…and what a night it was! We have a new OCW Champion and his name is a familiar one – Paul Paras

Hood: Never thought I’d see Paras hoist that belt again. Life can be awfully strange, Smith

Smith: Indeed it can! We also saw Vincent Langston emerge victorious in his Bloodsport Match…he will now take on Paul Paras at Social Justice for the OCW Title.

Hood: It appears as though Langston may be the emerging FACE of OCW…great win for the burgeoning ‘legend’.

Smith: Ed Houston broke through by winning the Paradigm Championship over Mack O’Connor

Hood: Bah, I still call SHENANIGANS on that one

Smith: Andrea Hernandez is the new Craze Champion…it’s her second title reign in her short OCW career

Hood: Bester needs to bounce back, Smith. Guy has lost two out of three matches

Smith: Lurrr had a victorious in-ring return which saw his union with PerZag defeat the unique team of Alice and Roach.

Hood: Paras is the OCW Champion and Lurrr could be the Tag Champion by the end of the night…the fuck is going on around here?!

Smith: Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas defeated CJ O’Donnell and Curt Canon in a very…unique affair. They, too, are in the running for the tag titles.

Hood: No team would be more deserving.

Smith: Kitty Petrova put an exclamation behind her first month of OCW competition by defeating Noah Hanson, Mike Harrison, and Dangerous Dan to earn a shot at Ed Houston and his Paradigm Championship.

Hood: I still think Hanson’s foot hit first! MORE SHENANIGANS

Smith: And, finally…we saw a very shocking event take place. Maurako, in great position to defeat Bifford, was blasted…not once, but twice by his close friend, Silver Cyanide.

Hood: Blasted by a SUPERKICK…one to the back of the head and one to the fucking face!

Smith: This led to Mario being pinned by Bifford for the second time in as many PPVs. Cyanide walked out, leaving his partner in a no-win situation. I don’t know why Cyanide would do such a thing...but, I can tell you this, Maurako will be looking for an answer.

Hood: Those guys go way back…almost to the womb. Cyanide was probably the LAST person Mario would pick as a potential betrayer. Hell, even as close as Mario and Paul are…Mario doesn’t entirely trust Paul, given certain situations. I mean, those two have a wild history.

Smith: Yep…Cyanide may have been the person, in this business, that Mario trusted most.

Hood: And that trust was defiled last night. It’s nice to see Silver Cyanide is still the man.

Smith: Well, I don’t know about all of that…all I know is Throwback was a tremendous event. 2019 is off to a hot start and tonight will go a long way into shaping the road toward Social Justice!

~Massacre cuts backstage. We find ourselves in the parking garage of the OCW Arena where a crowd of Key West residents and tourists can be spotted lining up for a chance to see any late-arriving OCW stars as Zybala’s crack security squad holds them back. Sure enough, as one typically does, a sleek white limousine pulls into the garage, prompting the crowd to cheer and applaud. The limo stops, and the blue-suited driver wheels around to the side our cameraman stands (also as one typically does). He opens the door, and the crowd lets out a collective gasp.~

Hood: Who is it, Smith?!

Smith: I can’t quite see, but with an entrance like that, I have a feeling we’re about to hear from our new…

~Smith stops mid-sentence as a man in a similar blue suit to the driver steps out of the limo. The two men each doff their hats to each other and to the crowd, whose cheers have been replaced by baffled silence.~

Hood: No seriously, who IS that?

Smith: It looks like another driver? I thought we might be getting a word from our new…

~A loud horn sounds in the distance, interrupting Smith’s thought again as the crowd turns their attention away from the limo. A Key West Transit bus flashes its lights and rolls into the parking garage! The bus comes to a stop just behind the limousine, and the door folds open, letting a spirited group of OCW fans off to join the rest of the crowd. Once the bus has been emptied, the driver steps out—a driver wearing jeans, a black t-shirt that reads “No One is Unbeatable,” a retro black bomber jacket, the OCW World Heavyweight Title belt over his shoulder, and a familiar smirk on his face—causing the patient fans to go wild!~

Smith: AS I WAS SAYING, it’s our new OCW World Champion! The man who defied the odds and the years at Throwback, the Perfect One!

Hood: Our champion took the BUS to work?

Smith: Paras has been all about creating change, so maybe he’s working on saving the environment by taking public transportation?

Hood: What kind of World Champion cares about the environment?

~Paul Paras soaks in the adoration of the fans and calmly turns toward the pair of drivers, flipping a set of keys to the man who was being chauffeured.~

Paul Paras: Thank you for your wheels. She drove like a cloud on a summer’s day. How was your limo ride, brother?

Bus Driver: Perfect!

Paul Paras: Stellar. Those OCW limos were already paid for on Welsh’s dime, so why not put them to good use? Feel free to use it to take the kids to Applebee’s later. Me, I prefer to be a man of the people.

~Paul motions toward the crowd, who respond with a raucous cheer. Paras adjusts the golden belt on his shoulder and begins walking into the arena with our cameraman following him. Paul passes by many a familiar face offering congratulations, while the Zen-filled champion wistfully takes it all in.~

Who’Re: Congratulations, Paul! That belt looks really great on you!

Paul Paras: Many thanks, Miss ‘Re.

Cap Slock: WHAT AN AMAZING ACCOMPLISHMENT, MR. PARAS. I WILL UPDATE YOUR FILE WITH THE APPROPRIATE SALARY ADJUSTMENTS.

Paul Paras: You said it, Cap. You said it loudly… but you said it.

Jones: You did it, Paul! Even though they said Meyhu couldn’t be beaten! Even after you two almost ruined my Hall of Fame ceremony!

Paul Paras: JOINES. You still work here?

~Jones/Joines thinks Paul is joking and gives him a hearty slap on the OCW Title. Paras halts his progress and stares a hole through the announcer. Jones’ expression grows grim as he scrambles all over his suit jacket, eventually finding a pocket square, which he uses to quickly wipe his handprint off the belt’s golden faceplate. Paras continues to stare at him as Jones inches away.~

Jones: I’ll…uhh…catch up with you later, old buddy!

~Jones flees the scene as Paras turns back and comes across the KNIFE MAN, who appears to be working on fixing a lighting rig with the utmost precision with the blade of his knife. It’s really quite incredible. He peers up at Paul through his mask, and the champion doesn’t appear fazed at all.~

Paul Paras: I see the yoga is really helping your concentration.

~Knife Man blinks several times and returns to his work. Paras continues walking and shouts over his shoulder.~

Paul Paras: Look for 3PY Volume 4: Champion’s Edition to be released soon! Everywhere but Wal-Mart!

~Finally, Paul reaches the gorilla position and takes a deep yoga breath, the roar of the fans inside the OCW Arena growing louder and louder just on the other side of the curtain. The champion nods toward the sound technician to his left, prompting a button to be pressed, “It Doesn’t Seem to Matter” by Army of Anyone to play, and the Zen Master to march into the arena.~

Smith: And here he is, Hood! This place is electric!!

~Paul Paras steps out onto the stage and takes in one of the loudest ovations the OCW Arena has heard in years. Paras nods acceptingly and coolly raises the title belt into the air, somehow making the arena even louder. Paul replaces the belt on his shoulder and strides down the ramp.~

Hood: I still can’t believe it. He beat Meyhu. Meyhu lost a match.

Smith: A lot of folks are still coming to terms with that, just like you. But those same people never gave Paras credit for the wrestling clinics he’s put on inside that ring all these years, and if you ask him, I’m sure he’d tell you that his win over Meyhu wasn’t an upset at all.

Hood: I wasn’t a believer before, Smith, but maybe Paul’s onto something with his yoga.

Smith: It certainly brought him results. First Ultimate Survival, and now, he’s in the history books as a two-time OCW Champion.

Hood: Maybe I’ll get one of his DVDs.

Smith: You with a yoga mat? THAT, I’d love to see.

~Paras enters the ring with the air of a conquering Hero of Lore. He procures a microphone from Belvedere, who also offers congratulations before Paul begins to address the capacity crowd.~

Paul Paras: Seventeen years, ten months, eighteen days. Two hundred fourteen months. Six thousand, five hundred, thirty-three days. That, my friends, was the time it took for OCW to find its center and for this title to return to its rightful place. But, as it always does, the sun has risen on this day at long last.

~The crowd responds with another sonic wave of cheers as Paras remains stoic.~

Paul Paras: I refuse to stand here and bore you all with lists like the last person to hold this belt did, so I plan to keep this to-the-point. This company is the place that made me who I am. It’s my home. And for the first time in those six thousand-plus days, it feels like home once again. Thank you.

~The famous “YOU DESERVE IT” chant rings out, at which Paras shakes his head in disapproval.~

Paul Paras: While I appreciate your support, the word “deserve” has no meaning. It’s empty. It’s relative. It’s a work of fiction created by authors who felt only they could determine the characters’ fate, much in the same way OCW’s management wrote me out of the story years ago; they didn’t believe I deserved to lead this company. Marcus Welsh didn’t believe I deserved to win at Death March. The pundits didn’t believe Paul Paras deserved to main event a Pay-Per-View in 2019 because really, what shot did I have of defeating the unbeatable Matt Meyhu? But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over all these years on this mortal plane, it’s that people are fallible… one could say that no one is Perfect…

~Paras smirks, getting applause from the audience.~

Paul Paras: And that also means their opinions and their views are fallible. I intend to use this second chance, this opportunity, to influence those views like never before. And it all started at Throwback. There, Matt Meyhu and I went to war, and only one of us could emerge victorious. You had an indomitable champion facing off against an insatiable force of nature, and when it came down to it, it was difficult to tell which one of us was which.

Standing here before you today, the result is clear, and it is one of the greatest feelings of my life. However, I want everyone watching tonight to make sure you don’t make the same mistake twice and let Matt get written off like I was for those nearly eighteen years. Matt Meyhu is one of the toughest opponents I have ever faced, and while he liked to talk about it an awful lot, let us not forget, he most certainly was a fantastic OCW Champion. At Throwback, just as I said I would be, I was the better man, and I’m proud to have stood across the ring from that younger version of myself, who very likely someday will be just as good.

~Paras encourages the crowd to applaud Matt Meyhu. They do so enthusiastically.~

Paul Paras: And with that lovely thought keeping the world in balance, Matt Meyhu, I’m certain we’ll meet again someday, and I would ask this one request of you when we do—do not mistake my honor for weakness. Because if and when we step into this ring again, believe me when I say that the result will be the same-- I would gladly kick your head off again. Which brings us to another line on the horizon…

~Before Paras can finish his thought, the familiar sound of “I Am Legend” by Colton Dixon begins to rumble over the OCW Arena speakers.~

Smith: Hold on, we have another champion making his way out!

Hood: He's only champion because of Zybala, that bast-

Smith: Remember, Hood, Zybala controls your paycheck now.

Hood: …

~Vincent Langston walks out of the back and stands on the stage, looking around at the boos coming from the crowd and smiling at them. He's got the OCW Savage Championship around his waist. His arm is in a sling, after the damage that Aidan Collins did to it. He makes no move to come down the ramp, as Paras watches him from the ring, ready for anything.~

Smith: Whether you like it or not, Hood, Langston won the #1 Contendership this past week from Aidan Collins, making him the first opponent to get to face Paras for his title.

Hood: I may hate how it ended, but I won't take anything away from Langston. He was a monster at Throwback. But looking at him now, I've seen better-looking corpses on The Walking Dead.

Smith: The Legend is still clearly healing up from that brutal Bloodsport match. Hopefully nothing permanent was done to his shoulder.

~Langston walks to the edge of the ramp but does not continue, instead bringing up a mic in his other hand.~

Vincent Langston: Paul Paras. The Hall of Famer. The Comeback Kid. Some might even say… you're a legend.

~The crowd loves this sentiment. Paras smiles drearily at their reaction, but doesn't change his stance.~

Vincent Langston: I came out here for one reason, Paul. To congratulate you. You did what many thought was impossible. You beat the man that most thought was undefeatable. You took down Matt Meyhu, and now you've proven that you're the best wrestler in OCW.

~More cheers from the audience. They are agreeing with everything Langston has to say.~

Smith: This is not what I was expecting to hear.

Hood: Hey, Langston loves a good fight, and we got a great one in Meyhu and Paras at Throwback.

Vincent Langston: When I came to OCW, Paul, I only had one goal. I wanted to fight the very best in the world. I carried some dead weight to the OCW Tag Team Titles. I beat down a bunch of supposed up-and-comers to get the Oh Shit! contract. I proved time and time again that I am the most savage of the OCW Savage Champions. And now, I've earned myself the opportunity to fulfill my goal. To face the very best. A legend... vs. The Legend.

~The crowd reaction is mixed, but most seem excited about the upcoming fight.~

Vincent Langston: Now as you can see, the doctors aren't fully satisfied with how my recovery is going. The General Manager, Zybala, he told me that I was going to have to wait before I can have any physical contact for a time. I have to be signed off before I can do what I was born to do. He told me that I'll get my opportunity against you at Social Justice. I just have to be patient.

~Langston looks down at his arm, then suddenly makes a motion, pulling his arm out and discarding the sling.~

Vincent Langston: I've never been known to be a patient man.

~Langston drops the mic beside the sling and starts down the ramp, to the roar of the crowd. Paras prepares himself, stepping to the middle of the ring and laying out the OCW Championship in front of him with his ever-confident smirk crossing his lips. Before Langston can get there, though, there's a rush around him, as OCW security comes out of every direction. The fans’ adulation turns to a chorus of boos instantly.~

Hood: I've never seen security respond this quickly!

Smith: Zybala must have known that Langston would want to fight tonight. He had everyone ready!

Hood: Once again, Zybala ruins everything!

~The wave of security works to keep Langston back from the ring, ordering him away. Langston looks ready to start killing chumps, but Paras by then is back on the mic.~

Paul Paras: If it’s a fight you want, Brother Langston, you’ve come to the right place… though as any wrestling fan can tell you, the right place does not always cross paths with the right time. But not to worry…

~Paras reaches down and picks up the title belt, placing it back over his shoulder as the security continues to push Langston back up the stage. Paul exits the ring and speaks as he slowly walks up the rampway toward Langston as the fans’ cheers pick up again. Langston nods his head as if to say “come any closer and I’ll rip your head off.” A few members of Zybala’s security crew rush over to Paras to stop him from going after Langston. Paras, nonchalant as ever, shrugs them off as if they aren’t there.~

Paul Paras: Unfortunate timing, Vincent, is merely timing that lacks fortune, but be assured that when Social Justice rears its head, fortune will no doubt shine upon you… just not the fortune you seek. Go. Get your arm healed. I want you at 100% and nothing less. You’ll get the fight you crave, but believe me when I tell you, this championship doesn’t come with it. Because at Throwback, you’re going to face the two-time OCW World Heavyweight Champion, the two-time OCW Hall of Famer, the Minnesota Messiah, “Perfect” Paul Paras.

~Paul stops a few feet from Langston, a double-wide wall of security between them. Paras looks Langston up and down and nods approvingly.~

Paul Paras: You’ll be fortunate if I only break one of your arms.

~The fans respond with a loud cheer as Langston yells at Paras to bring on a fight. The World Champion smirks and continues sauntering up the ramp knowingly and disappears to the back amidst his theme music and the roar of the crowd.~

Smith: Some harsh words shared between champion and challenger tonight. I cannot wait for Social Justice to see this match… no, this fight.

Hood: Yeah, don’t forget, Smith, even though their approaches are different, both these men are trained fighters. We saw what they both did to their opponents at Throwback.

Smith: Meyhu’s invincible streak was shattered, while we may never see Aidan Collins in an OCW ring again. There may not be a bigger fight feel in OCW than Paul Paras vs. Vincent Langston.

Hood: Yea man I keep thinking we've seen the greatest OCW Title match in company history only to look like a fucking fool the following event

Smith: That's what happens when you have a strong roster of members forced to earn their way to the top, Hood.

~In the hallway somewhere inside the OCW Arena, outside of the male locker rooms is James Kelloggs personal locker room, the childrens plastic playhouse. Joe Jones walks up to it as the door to it is shut tight. Joe taps on the top of it~

“Hold on motherfucker! Jesus! Fuck! I’m getting dressed!” James shouts out from inside of the “dressing room”

~Joe then slams his open hands on the roof of the playhouse several times like he’s playing the drums~

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I SWEAR TO GOD!” James shouts from inside the dressing room.

~The door to full size male locker room opens up as some guys walks out of it. No idea who he is. We’ve never seen him before. Joe then kicks the fuck out of the dressing room and dashes into the locker room sliding in as the door slowly shuts. This causes James to bolt from his locker room full of piss and vinegar.~

“COCK SUCKER!!! I SWEAR!!! I WILL….” James says as he emerges from his locker room to a empty hallway. James is all fired up, he can kill at this moment.

~Joe then opens the door to the locker room, the grown ups room and walks out acting like nothing happened.~

“James!” Joe says.

James looks at Joe.

“Who was the last bitch to leave that fucking room?” James demands.

“No idea who that guy was. Some indy hopeful looking to cash in and pad his bank account with some OCW checks. They got him wrestling Nanook later.” Joe says.

“What is this bitches name? Motherfucker kicked my personal dressing room!”

“I’m calling him pinky dick but I doubt that is his real name.”

“When you see him again, point him out! I’m going to fuck his night up. Jealous motherfucker.”

“Will do little guy!”

~James balls up his fists.~

“Hey! You available later? I had a heart to heart with Bester this week. He wants to say something and he wants to address Andrea Hernandez. This is the breaking news segment you have been wanting to do.”

“Yeah! I’ll make time.” James says through snarled teeth.

“Fantastic! Thanks buddy! High five!” Joe says and holds his hand up in the air, way, way out of the reach of James. James glares at Joe.

“You kicked my dressing room didn’t ya?”

“What? Why I would never! Who talked to Welsh to get you that room? I can’t believe you would even think I would do such a thing! I thought we were friends.”

“Hmm.”

“You know what! I’m going to talk to Who’re….ungrateful little prick.” Joe says as he walks away pretending to be offended. James watches him walk away before opening the door to his dressing room and finishing getting dressed.

Smith: I'd feel sorry for Kelloggs if he wasn't such a disgusting man

Hood: He certainly doesn't do much to champion the little man movement...if there is such a thing

Smith: I'm sure

Hood: A million man march for little people.

Smith: Okay, enough...I don't like where this is going. But it does sound like we are going to hear from Bester, the former Craze Champion, later on tonight

Hood: Guy's going to break, Smith. I predict it

Smith: You'll have to excuse me if I don't run to the betting window with that prediction

Hood: Oh, speaking of...do I have time to lay a bet down on Depth? Some late money came in on the guy...those odds are delciious

Smith: Nope, too late

Hood: Son of a bitch...EVERY DAMN TIME

Smith: Let's head down to ringside for our opening match!

Singles Match
Nico Gamble (0-0) vs. John E Depth (0-2)

~The fans are stoked! It’s the Monday AFTER Throwback! They want some in ring action! These fans are anxious to get a look at where OCW is headed as the march toward Social Justice begins. Belvedere clears his throat. We see John E Depth in the ring, sucking on a lollipop, pelvic thrusting to some generic porn theme that is playing throughout the OCW arena. We can only guess this is his entrance music. We guess because we never hear it~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, from Hollywood, California…John E Depth!

~Depth removes his lollipop and hurls it into the crowd! Women and men scatter. Parents hide their children. The saliva soaked sweet hits the floor head first and sticks! A perfect landing! Depth throws his arms into the air, triumphant~

Smith: The highlight of his year, perhaps

Hood: Do you think he knows how many licks it takes to get to the center?

Smith: No

Hood: And why’s that?

Smith: Because he’s always throttled with a kick or a punch before he can finish

~We cut backstage where Nico Gamble is heading toward the ring. He’s got that super convoluted purple coat on. His soccer mom hairstyle appears to be nice and fluffy. He’s cracking his knuckles when, suddenly the lights backstage go out!! The crowd inside the arena murmurs, curiously. We hear a scuffle. Nico is heard yelling, “Where are you? Who are you? AHHHH!!” He’s finally silenced. The OCW screen goes black~

Smith: What the…

Hood: Maybe he got his giant coat caught on a loose nail or something

~The lights in the arena dim. SPOOOOOOOOOKY music begins to play. The fans are confused. People are like, “WTF this isn’t HALLOWEEN?!” Belvedere’s mic is heard moving around~

Smith: What’s going on?!

Hood: I don’t know but that spooky music is very spooky

Smith: How does it get so dark in here? You’d think…

~And, as if on cue, the lights turn on!! A man in a giant sheet is standing in the ring, staring at Depth! He brings a wine cooler to his mouth, taking a swig. The spooky music ends. The crowd gasps with surprise~

Smith: What the…who is that?!

Hood: I don’t know but that has to be the shittiest ghost costume I’ve ever seen

~An OCW employee rushes up and whispers into Belvedere’s ear. Belvedere seems confused. He looks to the employee for clarification. The employee is equally perplexed. So, Belvedere, being a TRUE professional, makes chicken salad~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…due to Nico Gamble’s unexplained disappearance…taking his place tonight will be…

~Belvedere pauses, looking at the man in the white ghost sheet. It’s obvious he has no name so Belvedere must improvise~

Belvedere: GHOST MAN!

~The bell sounds~

Smith: Well…GHOST MAN is going to face John E Depth

Hood: Depth might win this!

Smith: I’d have to see that to believe it

~Belvedere promptly exits. Ghost Man raises his arms and makes some very SPOOOOOKY noises. Depth charges at him, leaps into the air and thrusts his crotch into Ghost Man’s face!!! He rides Ghost Man’s face all the way to the ground, slamming the back of Ghost Man’s head into the mat!! The wine cooler flies out of the ring, landing right between the two breasts of a buxom MILF. The crowd is stunned. They can’t believe Depth got some offense in~

Smith: Hood…you might be right!

Hood: Shit! Are you SURE the sports room is closed?

Smith: It is closed

Hood: FUCK

~Depth looks down at Ghost Man. He’s probably the most surprised person in the ring. The fans begin chanting “DEPTH! DEPTH!” Depth looks around…his eyes are full of hope. He stands with Ghost Man’s spooky head between his legs. He leaps into the air as high as he can and slams his ass right into Ghost Man’s face!!! Ghost Man is out! Depth leans forward, palms on the mat and pins Ghost Man by placing his crotch on Ghost Man’s face. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings!! THE FANS GO WILD~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…JOHN E DEPTH!!!!!

Smith: He did it!! I can’t believe it!

Hood: He defeated THE GHOST MAN

Smith: John E Depth has claimed the first victory of his professional career!

Hood: That may not sound like much…but the guy’s been wrestling since 2017.

Smith: Yes, an exceptional drought

~Depth spots the woman with the wine cooler between her breasts. He hops out of the ring and gives her a hug. He removes the wine cooler and takes a swig. He hands passes it back to the woman who says “YOLO!” and takes one as well. Depth hops over the barricade, throws his arm around the MILF and escorts her through the crowd, backstage. A kid is left behind who may or may not belong to the woman. We won’t speculate. The lights immediately cut out again~

Smith: NOT AGAIN

Hood: Tis a very spooky evening, Smith

Smith: I’m getting tired of these shenanigans!

~We hear some SPOOOOOKY music play. The lights come back on. GHOST MAN has vanished~

Smith: Terrific

Hood: Hmm, this might be a mystery for…

Smith: DON’T SAY IT

Hood: Jack Puffer!

Smith: Ugh…let’s cut to something semiserious, PLEASE!

~The scene cuts backstage in the office of General Manager Mike Zybala. It seems… larger than the old office of Marcus Welsh…. as if Zybala had a wall removed or something to make the office more spacious. He is busy with some paperwork when there is a knock on the door. He looks up and beckons for whoever it is to enter. The door slowly opens and in walks the new Commissioner, GREG!! Zybala smiles as he gets up from his desk and walks over to Greg. The two shake hands~

Zybala: Greg! Great to see you. Welcome to your first day on the job.

Greg: Why thank you, Mikey.

~Greg leans in for a hug as part of his hand shake. Zybala seems surprised but goes with it. The hug lasts a second longer than what we’re used to. It finally ends. Greg stands back and takes in the surprisingly capacious office~

Greg: Is it just me or is it easier to breathe in here? Hot dog, Mikey. Marcus is going to love this when he gets back!

Zybala: Well you see Greggers, in the beginning, I tried my very best to work with Marcus like a team. I wanted us to run smoothly. But you saw how that turned out. I don't want that to happen to you and me. I want us to be a team. That's why I had the extra space made in here. This will be OUR office! Your desk will be right here next to mine.

~Greg seems to really like the idea of working in such close proximity with the man, Mike Zybala. He surveys the room, finding a corner that really seems to fit his aesthetic needs~

Greg: I think I’ll take that corner over there. How do you feel about the color purple?

Zybala: I am totally used to it. It's my wife's favorite color so I am more than okay with it. You see? We're getting along already. This is what I wanted with Marcus. No doors, no one having a bigger office to differentiate positions in the company. I wanted companionship and possibly friendship so we can make the best O.C.W. possible. Now for your desk and computer and computer accessories. I went ahead and got you a budget of seven grand to get everything you need. I wanted a little more so you had more leeway with your options, but payroll wouldn't budge. I hope it will be enough, but if you need more, let me know and I'll help with the cost.

~Greg accepts the temporary credit card with a seven thousand dollar limit. His eyes sparkle. A slideshow of purchasing options flash before his intoxicating visage. He slowly pulls himself away from the dream like state. He reaches over and touches Zybala on the shoulder~

Greg: You just made my night. I haven’t been shopping since Marcus went on his...I think he called it a ‘walkabout’. I’m in desperate need of a new war...computer. I’ll be sure to have the seven thousand dollars spent by the end of the week.

~Greg slides the card into his pocket before it can be taken away~

Greg: Now, I wanted to talk about Social Justice. I just love that term. It’s about time we initiate justice in a social manner. While Marcus hasn’t given me the green light on this, I’m sure he won’t mind. He’s a progressive man. I think we should have a female commentator help call the show alongside Smith and Hood.

Zybala: I admire how you worry about how Marcus would feel. I don't want to cause any problems between the two of you. If you feel you want to run things past him, that's fine. Just remember, you and I are in charge, not him. You can tell him that he has no worries about O.C.W., I'll hand the reins back over to him at the end of the year with the company still intact; dare I say even better than before! And I think that a female commentator is a great idea. Real forward thinking. Hood may not be on board, but we can always count on Smith to be professional. Did you have anyone particular in mind?

Greg: Well I could always throw on a wig and…

~Greg pauses, catching Zybala’s expression. Greg starts to laugh, patting Zybala on the shoulder before pulling his arm back, allowing his hand to graze over Mike’s chest~

Greg: I’m just kidding, Mikey! Wouldn’t that be a hoot? That girl, the one with the french name and blonde hair. I think she’d be great. Hoo-reigh, is it?

~Zybala chuckles at Greg's humor~

Zybala: Oh you. Maybe for the Halloween show. We can have a Rocky Horror Picture Show theme. I believe you're talking about Who”Re. I think she would enjoy that idea very much, especially if it gets her away from that sleeze Sugar Valentine. Look at us though. Not even ten minutes together and already working better than Marcus and I did. But listen, I need to finish up some paperwork here. Why don't you go get acclimated with the backstage crew and maybe take a peek at some office supply website so we can get you up and running for the next show. And do try not to splurge too much on clothes.

~Zybala gives Greg a knowing smile and wink~

Greg: Oh I’ll stay within my lane, Mikey. Don’t you worry

~Greg giggles. His phone rings. He pulls out a giant phone covered with purple rubber out and stares at the screen. His eyes widen~

Greg: I have to take this. Thanks for everything, Mikey. You’re the best!

~Greg squeezes Zybala on the arm before exiting. We hear him answer the phone, “Mar..” That’s all we get before he shuts the door behind him, terminating our access to his voice~

Smith: Greg seems to be settling in...Zybala definitely making things comfortable for our new commissioner

Hood: Why is he commissioner? What qualifications does he have other than the fact he blows...

Smith: You better be on the verge of saying 'your mind' otherwise I might have to cut your mic

Hood: He does not blow my mind

Smith: It was Zybala's decision. He wanted Welsh but Welsh is pouting.

Hood: Can you blame him? His Ferrari is being driven by Ferris fucking Bueller

Smith: That reference would have been so much better one week ago

Hood: Yea, I know

Smith: It does seem as though the rapport between Zybala and Greg is already better than previous GM and Commissioner relationships. However...I have a suspicion that Welsh isn't as detached as we think

Hood: Come home, Welsh. We need you!

Smith: Only thing we need is to cut backstage for our next segment!

~James is pushing his step stool into place and picks up the mic that is resting on the top step. James snatches that up and quickly climbs to the top step thus making him “eye level” with the camera. He looks into the camera and smiles.~

James: Thanks guys for giving me this time. At this time I want to welcome a dear friend of mine, Double J Joe Jones.

~Joe comes waltzing in while humming a tune, a tune that sounds an awful like SirMixalot’s I like big butts.~

Joe: I like big dicks and I cannot lie…

~Joe sings as he walks up to and stands next to James.~

James: Joe.

Joe: James.

James: You requested this time.

Joe: Sure did!

James: You told me that Bester had something he wanted to say.

Joe: He sure does, but first! Let’s go back to last week shall we?

James: To Throwback?

Joe: That’s a big 10-4 little buddy! At Throwback, Bester, who you will see in just a minute defended the OCW Craze championship against Andrea Hernandez!

James: And Andrea is now the new Craze champion.

Joe: She sure is and I like that you were paying attention. Now, I’m not going to stand here and say anything negative about our new champion. She fought hard, she earned that belt. I’ve got nothing to take away from her. She took the fight to Bester and came out victorious in the end. What I want to talk about is what happened after the match.

James: After the match?

Joe: Yes sir little buddy! Post match!

~James is getting red in the face.~

James: If I recall, nothing happened after the match between Andrea and Bester.

Joe: Nope.

James: So…? Are we going to talk about Andrea’s post match shower? That would be noteworthy to me.

Joe: Nope my pint sized perv. What happened after the match is that I sat down with Bester and we had a heart to heart!

James: Oh?

Joe: The defeat to Andrea in a way was a good thing for Bester. I was able to show him the errors of his way. You see, much like our new Craze Champion, Bester is still pretty green in this sport. He isn’t thinking about the big picture, the long term picture. But we had a come to Jesus talk and today. Tonight!

~Joe motions for Bester to join him. ~

Joe: I am happy to have the old Bester here tonight! Not the angry, only thinking about himself Bester. The happy go loving Bester.

~Bester steps in and stands next to Joe. He removes his hat and holds it in his hands with both hands and looks to be very sorry. He looks down at the floor reminding you a little kid who got caught in a lie.~

Joe: And James, Andrea. OCW. Bester here has something he would like to say.

~Joe puts his arm around Bester as James, using his telescopic microphone that was custom made for him, extends it towards Bester.~

Bester: I’m sorry.

~Bester says sheepishly.~

James: Sorry? Sorry for what?

Bester: Sorry for acting like a poopy head. Sorry for acting like a bully. Sorry for being so mean to Miss Andrea. I hope she can forgive me. I shouldn’t have been so mean and said all of those things I did to her.

~Bester uses the back of his hand to wipe his check and slowly looks up at the camera. The camera slowly starts to pan in on him.~

Bester: Sorry for turning my back on all of my Rainbow Warriors. Sorry for letting down my Shining stars. Sorry to my Little Buddies for, for, removing my OGDA mask and leaving all of my fans high and dry. I shouldn’t have done that. I am better than that. It was….

Joe: It’s okay Bester. Go ahead.

Bester: It was the pressure. The pressure of Death March. The pressure of being the OCW Craze champion, of being the OCW Superhero champion. Of carrying around and caring for Belty, It stressed me out and I cracked under the pressure. I wanted to be a champion so badly, to bring the belt to a new level, and in turn raise the status of the OCW along with it, that I just…..just….didn’t want to let Mister Welsh or Mister Zybala down. I’m so sorry!

~Bester breaks down and begins to cry. He bolts off camera.~

Joe: Best! Buddy! It’s okay! Man! James, Sorry to have ruined your segment. I’ve got to go!

~Joe chases after Bester and James is left holding the mic. He’s speechless. After a awkward moment, we cut back to the ring~

Smith: Best...OGD...the former Craze Champion seems to be taking the loss harder than we anticipated

Hood: Maybe he's off his meds and viewing things as a functioning adult

Smith: I think Joe is playing with his head. Perhaps if he left Bester alone, the former Craze Champion might begin to flourish once again

Hood: That's just about the worst idea I've ever heard

Smith: Whatever. Tom Ambrose will be making his debut soon...but first, let's head backstage

~Backstage, D’eangelo Vickers is with Chad Vargas and Bob Grenier for a sensitivity class~

Vickers: You two have been pegged as two of the most offensive men here in OCW, That’s why I have been assigned to try and help you.

Bob: Look Vickers, I don’t like you, You don’t like me. You can try to change me and my ways, But it’s never gonna happen.. Bury your head in the sand and wait for the fucking prom ok?

Vickers: Oh, The Breakfast Club! I love that movie. That John Bender was a real bad dude. Is that who you want to be? That isn’t a proper role model. Bob, You are in the public eye! People, Women and children look up to you! You should learn to act appropriately!

Vargas: What am I even doing here with this ass jockey! This is a waste of time.

~Vargas slams a beer and tosses the half empty can in the direction of Vickers. It narrowly misses him. Bob and Vargas laugh as Vickers wipes foam off his face and jacket~

Bob: Look Vickers, In not our fault these insensitive fuck bags can’t handle us. We’re as real as it gets around here and nobody is gonna censor us. Not even you!

~Bob lights a huge joint and blows smoke in D’eangelo. Vargas cracks another beer and chugs it. He again whips the empty can across the room. Bob laughs~

Bob: Dude, You aim is fucking off tonight! I’ll show you…

~Bob takes one off Chad’s beers, Chugs it and throws the can, Nailing Vickers in the forehead. Vickers looks really sad at the abuse he is taking~

Vargas: Look, He’s about to cry!

~Bob and Vargas laugh hysterically~

Vickers: (Talking to himself) Come on D, You can do this. They said it would be tough, but you can do this!

~Vickers regains his composure~

Vickers: Gentleman, Please refrain from drinking and smoking during my sensitivity seminar. I’ve asked you nicely. I’m going to get really really mad if you keep this up. I know you two are better than this!

Vargas: You don’t know me Vickers! Fuck off!

Bob: How amusing! He thinks we’re better than this! This is us dude, fucking deal with it.

~Vargas and Grenier high five each other. Both men leave their seats. Vargas stands face to face with Vickers and Bob crouches behind him on all fours~

Vargas: Vickers, If I had a goddamn dime for every time some liberal yahoo tried to censor me, A dime every time some pansy ass fuckwad like you tried to “straighten me out”...

~Vargas shoves Vickers hard and he trips over Grenier and crashes to the floor. They both laugh. They then pull a stunned Vickers to his feet.~

Grenier: So sorry! Didn’t see you there fuckstick..Fix your tie dude! Look presentable for fuck sakes! How will anyone ever take you seriously looking like this?!

~Vargas and Grenier laugh again. Vargas grabs Vickers by the tie and begins to jerk him around as Grenier blows weed smoke in his direction~

Vargas: There you go!

~Vargas gives him a soft slap to the face and ruffles his hair a bit~

Bob: Better luck with the next class Vickers! We’re out of here. We have OCW Tag Team Titles to claim.

~Vargas and Grenier exit, Iggy Hardy enters as they do and with him is the ugliest looking hooker anyone has ever seen. She is scantily clad and missing a few teeth~

Iggy: This the sensitivity class?

Vickers: Yes, It is. You must be Iggy Hardy!

Iggy: You must be Vickers! Heard so much about ya! You mind?

~Iggy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of a mysterious white powder. He snaps his fingers and on command the hooker bends over a table. Iggy proceeds to dump a generous amount of the white powder on this girls pimply ass. He rolls up a dollar bill and offers it to Vickers first, Vickers steadfastly refuses. He looks horrified as Iggy proceeds to rail a monster line. He gives her ugly ass a smack. Vickers puts his fingers to his temple~

Vickers: Please just leave!

~Iggy and the girl leave and Vickers massages his temples, Quietly talking to himself~

Vickers: Stick with it D, Just stick with it. You can get through to them if you just keep trying.

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: Deangelo could snap

Hood: He's too weak to snap. You have to be stiff to snap. He'll just fucking fold

Smith: I like Deangelo...I hope he can hang in there. Hang in there, Vick!

Hood: Vick?

Smith: We've had some sessions. He urged me to call him what I felt most comfortable calling him. He's guided me through some dark times

Hood: You? Dark times? Like, what, depressed over the fact you couldn't find the blueberry cheesecake shake at Chick Fil A?

Smith: You...you wouldn't understand

Hood: No, I would not

Smith: Well, fans...it's time for the debut of Tom Ambrose! Let's head down to ringside!

Singles Match
Tom Ambrose (0-0) vs. Jack Puffer (0-2)

~Jack Puffer is already in the ring waiting for his opponent~

Belvedere: His opponent.. From London, England, Standing 6 foot 1, Weighing 225 pounds, Tom Ambrose!

~Judas by FOZZY hits and the newcomer, Tom Ambrose walks with a certain swagger towards the ring while Jack Puffer looks on un amused. Ambrose stops in the middle of the aisle to make sure his hair is just right and the crowd lets out a small chorus of boos. Paying the crowd no mind he struts the rest of the way to the ring and over confidently walks up the steps, He arrogantly wipes his feet on the apron and makes his way into the ring, he climbs to the top rope and holds out his arms, smiling smugly as the crowd lets him have it. He seems very arrogant~

Smith: This newcomer, Tom Ambrose, is certainly not winning over this crowd.

Hood: Not with the that attitude he isn’t.

~Ambrose hops down from the top rope and make his way over to Puffer, They stand face to face in the center of the ring. As soon as the bell rings, Ambrose kicks Jack Puffer in the crotch and laughs as Puffer falls to the mat. The crowd boos a little louder`

Smith: What was that?

Hood: What a cheapshot from this coward.

~Ambrose makes his way back over to a downed Puffer and beckons him to get back up, Ambrose again begins to fix his hair and admire himself when all of a sudden Puffer surprises him with a rollup`

1..

2..

~Ambrose kicks out just in the nick of time and looks incredibly pissed off~

Smith: He almost got caught there!

Hood: That would have been pretty embarassing.

~Incensed, Ambrose whips Puffer into the ropes and hits him with a back body drop, Puffer is down again and Ambrose darts to the middle rope, quickly hitting a knee drop. He picks up Puffer again and tosses him into the corner where he begins to grind Puffers face into the middle turnbuckle with his foot. Looking confident, He grabs Puffer off the ground, Instead of continuing the attack, Ambrose again panders to the crowd and they are having none of it. Puffer rolls him up again!~

1..

2..

~Ambrose again kicks out!~

Smith: That’s twice. This kid is a little too confident and it may just cost him this match.

Hood: Puffer has never won a match here in OCW, but Ambrose should have done his homework. He’s been in the ring with some of OCW’s finest.

~Looking even more pissed, Ambrose picks up Puffer and proceeds to hit him with a powerbomb directly into a Boston Crab. Rather than go for a pin, Ambrose continues to play it up to the unloving OCW crowd.~

Smith: This kid needs to pay more attention.

Hood: Should have went for the pin after that impressive move, Who does this kid think he is?

~Ambrose picks up Puffer again and whips him into the corner, He again begins to grind Puffers face into the middle rope with his foot. Puffer is on the ground and Ambrose mounts him and begins to deliver vicious punches to his forehead. ~

Smith: A little aggression there but he can’t let up or it’s certainly going to bite him.

~Ambrose doesn’t let up this time and he stays on Puffer, He pulls him up off the mat and hits a few vicious knife edge chops, He whips Puffer into the ropes and hits him with an impressive float over neckbreaker. Ambrose turns his attention back to the crowd as they boo loudly, Puffer regains his composure and slowly gets himself to his feet, He sneaks up behind Ambrose and hits him with a quick belly to back suplex. Ambrose is down and Puffer goes for the cover~

1..

~Ambrose kicks out with ease and slams his hands into the mat in frustration at being caught by Puffer a third time. He kicks Puffer in the gut and hits a double arm DDT, Putting Puffer to the mat again. He begins to stomp away on Puffer relentlessly. Ambrose picks Puffer up and hits him with a superkick. Ambrose confidently goes for the cover with just his foot on his chest.~

1..

2..

~Puffer grabs Ambrose by the foot and jerks him down to the mat, Putting him and ankle lock. Ambrose writhes around for a few moments but manages to break himself free, He pushes Puffer back with both feet against his chest and hops back up, He jams a thumb in Puffers eye and whips Puffer into the ropes, hitting him with a Codebreaker!~

1..

2..

3!!!

Belvedere: Here is your winner….TOM AMBROSE!!!!

Smith: Ambrose with some solid offence tonight, but he needs to tone down the cockiness if he wants to make a name for himself in OCW.

Hood: That's terrible advice! Believe in yourself, kid and great things will happen! And by believe in yourself I obviously mean back stab, cheat, and break the rules...all to serve your own narrative

Smith: Now THAT's terrible advice. Regardless, great showing for Ambrose in his debut match. It should be interesting to see where he goes from here.

~We cut backstage to two ring workers chatting when a door opens and out walks OCW Hall of Famer, the Incredible One, to a generous amount of cheers. He begins to walk around the backstage area, looking for someone, until he finds himself face-to-face with AKB.~

AKB: My main man TIO, how’s it going?!

~TIO looks at AKB confused before responding.~

TIO: Listen, I’m a little busy, who’s in charge around here now that Welsh is nowhere to be found?

AKB: Zybala, dude!

TIO: Okay, thanks...

~TIO goes to leave but AKB cuts him off with a question.~

AKB: Hey, TIO, answer me this? Why did you request this match with Harrison? Are you going to request matches with Curt Canon and CJ O’Donnell?

~Frustrated, TIO takes a long sigh before turning around, trying to compose himself.~

TIO: It’s simple AKB. Harrison and I have never faced off in a match before. He took me out before Death March – so I need to show everyone that I’m not going to let Harrison get away with what he did and prove he’s no match against me.

AKB: ...And Curt and CJ?

TIO: No. I’m not going to request matches with those two. I’ve beaten them before – I’ve pinned both of them before. I don’t need to prove anything to those... low lives. Now, excuse me, I’m going to look for Zybala.

~TIO turns to leave but AKB grabs him by the arm to the alarm of TIO.~

AKB: One more question – maybe you can give me the inside scoop on why you’re looking for Zybala?

~TIO eyes widen, looking at AKB and then looking at his arm. AKB chuckles frantically, taking his hand off TIO’s arm.~

TIO: I said this before at the Hall of Fame ceremony two weeks ago. I’m coming back for one reason and one reason only – and that’s the OCW Championship. Right now, you’ve got Social Justice where Paul Paras will defend the title against Vincent Langston. No plans have been announced for the number one contendership yet and I want to let Zybala know one thing – his number one contender is right here!

~The crowd roars as TIO walks out of the camera’s view, AKB looking pumped up after that interview. Moments later, TIO comes back and picks AKB up by the collar.~

TIO: Grab me by the arm again – and I’ll floor you.

~TIO lets AKB go before once again heading to Zybala’s room as the feed cuts to ringside.~

Smith: TIO making his intentions known – he wants another shot at the OCW Championship!

Hood: Eh, does he really deserve it? He’s only been back for a week, shouldn’t he earn it?

Smith: He’s held numerous titles in OCW and is a Hall of Famer, I’m sure his credentials speak for themselves.

Hood: Fuck, if this was anyone else, they’d have to earn it. Jump the line for TIO!

~‘Eye of the Tiger’ by Survivor blasts over the PA system as most of the crowd starts cheering for the man known as PerZag, whilst a small amount boo him.~

Hood: And it’s time to inject this show with pure Worthiness.

Smith: Yep, the worthiest of them all is here.

Hood: Come on Smith. That’s not how you say Worthy. It’s not worthy. It’s……...Worthy.

Smith: Sounds the same to me.

Hood: That’s cause you’re not Worthy.

~PerZag finally walks out onto the stage carrying a briefcase, as the crowd look to see if Lurrr is with him. PerZag looks behind him, and then back out at the crowd, shaking his head, and shrugging his shoulders. He walks towards the ring, microphone in hand, as all the crowd sit down, wondering what the fuck is in that briefcase. PerZag gets to ringside, walks up the steps, and steps into the ring. He walks around it, getting the feel of the size of the ring, before finally addressing the crowd, and anyone else that may be listening.~

PerZag: Well there you go guys……… Worthiness is here!

~The crowd start cheering once more, as PerZag smiles in the ring.~

PerZag: What’s going on? First I get Lurrr to return to the ring to be my tag team partner, and then a photo with me and a little girl that hates Alice Knight goes viral, and now you all cheer me. Well, how about that? That didn’t take much effort now did it.

~The crowd start chanting ‘We Want Lurrr’ as PerZag smiles and nods along.~

PerZag: I know, I know, and that will happen tonight. I’m sure of it. Especially when those OCW Tag Team Titles get placed on us. But, I am out here for a different reason right now. And that is this……

~PerZag drops his briefcase onto the mat. He crouches down, opening the briefcase, and lifts up the lid. PerZag stands back up, and looks back out at the crowd.~

PerZag: In this briefcase right here is a contract. A contract for the Main Event of next week's Massacre in what will be the second Worthy Challenge of 2019. And, it’ll also be another win in the win column of PerZag. So………

~PerZag turns towards the entranceway, and stares straight towards the stage.~

PerZag: If anyone out there deems themselves Worthy enough to take on the 2019 undefeated PerZag, then this is your time to step up. This is your chance to prove that you have what it takes.

~PerZag stops, and watches the stage. He watches, and watches, and watches as nothing happens. PerZag shakes his head, and turns around.~

PerZag: Fucking weak ass pussies. Seriously. Nobody has the balls to come out here and accept a Worthy challenge. Fucking Worthless trash roster. Come on people. Step up and face The Worthiest of Them All.

~PerZag waits once more..

Where the hood

Where the hood

Where the hood at…

~Bob Grenier busts through the curtain and makes a dash for the ring, Never taking his eyes off PerZag. He smirks as he makes his way over to Belvedere and demands a microphone.

~PerZag drops his arm down in the ring, and yells out to the crowd something like ‘Not this fucking douchebag’. Bob Grenier steps into the ring with the microphone in hand and paces around the ring staring a hole through The Worthiest of them all.~

Bob: Tell me you are not that delusional. Do you really think that you are going to be handed the OCW Tag Team Titles? Sure, you and your life partner scored a nice victory at Throwback but dude, You are not going to just march back into this building and be handed something that Vargas and I deserve. Vargas and I, we aren’t just some thrown together team, we’re undefeated last time I checked. The Southsiders, Team 2015, Whatever you wanna call us, We’re 4-0 and you, look at you, you look like you bag your own shit homie.

~Bob laughs and the crowd laughs with him.~

Bob: I carried your worthless ass on my back when we formed Power & Worth and I’ve paved the way for you to be here. While you were on vacation, training hard for this pathetic comeback of yours... I kept the doors of this place open for you to even have the opportunity to be here again. Tonight, Vargas and I will become OCW Tag Team Champions, next week, I am going to destroy my first round opponent in the Mike Roth Memorial Tournament and then in the main event, I am going to stomp a hole in your goddamn face and show you just how “irrelevant” I am.

~PerZag rolls his eyes, and turns to face the crowd, disregarding Bob as the Worthless trash he is.~

Bob: Don’t roll your eyes at me. You look at me when I’m fucking talking to you!

~PerZag doesn’t turn to face Bob. He still looks out at the crowd, shaking his head at this Worthless human being. Though, not looking at Bob, he finally addresses the situation.~

PerZag: Before Bob here spews out some more bullshit, I should warn all you family members out there that have brought their children with them to this show, that they should hide them real quick. Otherwise, Bob here will hunt them down, and add them to his record of molestations. How many do you have now Pedophile Bob?

~PerZag finally turns around, facing Bob, but before Bob can respond out of frustration, PerZag cuts him off.~

PerZag: One hundred and twenty molestations. That’s a high number……...Bob, that is what you sound like whenever you open that fucking mouth of yours. You sound like some absolute bullshitter. You talk bullshit, you are bullshit, there is nothing appealing about you. When this crowd laughs, it is not with you, it is at you. Hell, you are a bigger joke than Shootah.

~Bob turns to the crowd and looks stunned at the accusation. He then smiles.~

Bob: Look at PerZag, trying to be controversial, trying to get under my skin. I know I look like some fucking cretin, with my beady little eye and the scar tissue that lines my forehead. Children look at me and yeah, they run in the opposite direction... It’s because I’m a scary motherfucker. You’re pushing the wrong buttons pal and I’d be very afraid. Dude, You just signed your own death warrant, I’m gonna sign it as well.

~PerZag starts acting scared, shaking on the spot, with a huge smile on his face. Bob reaches to try and grab the contract and PerZag pulls it from his reach.~

PerZag: Do you really think you fucking scare me? You and I were once mates, and Power and Worth were a fucking dominant team, but that was because of me. Not you. I was the one holding you up. I was the one Main Eventing, whilst you dropped down and won the Internet Championship that I already had held, and progressed from. You, Bob, you seriously are Worthless Trash. And you would never have gotten a chance at the OCW Championship if it wasn’t for me bringing your Worthless ass back into contention. Bob, you were nothing without me. Your Hall Of Fame spot would not exist, if it wasn’t for me. You are just Worthless fucking garbage.

Bob: You can sit there and take credit for my success but the fact of the matter is this, After I lost the Internet Championship to Legion, I went on a winning streak, a winning streak that you could only dream of having. I believe that winning streak included beating you and Mack O’Connor in a Penalty Box Match for the #1 Contendership. Once I punched that ticket, the ride continued with you riding my goddamn coat tails and the ride ended at Hood Rich with me becoming the OCW Heavyweight Champion. I did that, You didn’t pin Vargas’ shoulders to the mat for me fuckstick, I did that. So give me that contract, let me sign it and we will settle this bullshit in the middle of this ring next week.

~PerZag stares across at Bob, before looking out at the crowd, and then down at the contract in his hands. He throws the contract on the ground, and looks Bob straight into his eyes.~

PerZag: If you really think you have a fucking chance at beating me, then sign that fucking contract.

~Bob takes the contract off the ground and signs it with a grin. He drops it back at PerZag’s feet and puts a finger in his face as they stand toe to toe. Bob tells him “he made him”. PerZag smiles, and crouches down picking up the contract. He stares at it, before looking straight at Bob.~

PerZag: You should really know something about this contract, Bob. There is a clause that I have made in this contract known as the “Tearable Clause”. And, no, it’s not to say that it is a shit contract. It basically states that this contract shall be torn, if I determine that my challenger is Unworthy. And, Bob……...YOU ARE!

~PerZag pulls his head back, and throws it forward, headbutting Grenier on the bridge of the nose, dropping him down to the mat in an instant. Bob reaches for his nose, which starts to bleed as PerZag lifts the contract up for everyone to see, and rips it in half as the crowd cheers, obviously liking PerZag more than Grenier. Grenier slowly makes his way back to his feet after the cheap shot, willing to fight PerZag right here, right now, but PerZag kicks him straight in the groin, lifts him up into a powerbomb position, throwing him up and landing him onto PerZag’s knees delivering The Worthiest Move of Them All. PerZag walks over to the briefcase which was knocked to the edge of the ring after the scuffle, and picks it up. He slides out of the ring as he reaches for another contract in his briefcase, pulling it out. He grabs a microphone off of Belvedere on his way past him, and starts laughing at Bob in the ring.~

PerZag: Come on, Bob, I wouldn’t let some Unworthy piece of shit sign a Worthy Challenge contract. You have to at least be deemed Worthy before that can happen.

~PerZag makes it up to the stage, before placing the briefcase back down, and looking towards Bob who is still knocked down in the ring. He lifts the unsigned contract in the hand not holding the microphone, motioning it out to the crowd.~

PerZag: And seeing as nobody else is willing to come out here and prove themselves Worthy, then I guess this unsigned contract shall be torn too.

~PerZag goes to tear the contract in half, but before he can, the crowd erupts into cheers, confusing the former OCW Champion.~

Smith: Oh my God!

Hood: PerZag! Look behind you!

~PerZag’s expression grows more perplexed as he slowly turns around. His eyes bulge from his head as he comes face-to-face with the CURRENT OCW Champion, PAUL PARAS!!!~

Smith: PerZag may not have thought Bob was Worthy, but what can he say to the Minnesota Messiah?

Hood: I have to admit, they don’t get much Worthier.

~PerZag regains his composure as he confidently utters some words we can’t hear to the OCW Champion. Paras simply gazes at the Worthiest in his dreamy, nonchalant manner. PerZag points back at Bob in the ring and then raises the contract and points at it for emphasis. Paras doesn’t say a word but suddenly swipes the contract out of PerZag’s hand!~

Smith: What?! Is Paras going to accept the Worthy Challenge?

~PerZag looks on, unsure of how to approach this unexpected turn of events, as Paras scans through the fine print of the contract. After an extended moment, Paras shrugs his shoulders, clicks the pen, and signs his name on the dotted line, causing the Massacre crowd to explode into cheers! PerZag cracks a satisfied smile as Paras produces a microphone from his jacket pocket.~

Paul Paras: Just one thing. These people don’t want to waste their endless numbered hours with more waiting. I’m here to influence change, after all. So next week, let us not delay-- I’ll see you in the FIRST MATCH OF THE NIGHT.

~The fans remain electric as Paras extends his hand. PerZag thoughtfully considers as both men look out into the sea of fans for support. Looking Paras in the eye and with a Worthy show of confidence, PerZag reaches out and shakes Paul’s hand, causing the crowd to go ballistic. The two adversaries give a competitive nod as “It Doesn’t Seem to Matter” blares over the speakers.~

Smith: It’s on! An OCW dream match will open Massacre next week! I can’t believe it, Hood! PerZag vs. Paras! A clash of two eras!

Hood: World Champion vs. World Champion. Hall of Famer vs. future Hall of Famer. Worth vs. Perfection. It doesn’t get any better than that!

~Mack O'Connor sits in his dressing room, sipping on a beer and staring at a blank TV screen. Treat Cassidy stands in the corner~

Cassidy: How's the ankle?

~Mack doesn't answer, taking a sip of his beer~

Cassidy: Come on, man. Talk to me.

Mack: The ankle is fine. Sore, but fine.

Cassidy: Good... That's good...

~They sit in silence for a few more moments~

Mack: Fuckin' bullshit...

Cassidy: What?

Mack: I don't know what the fuck happened. I froze. I've taken hits before, and he didn't even catch me that hard... But I froze. Fuck...

Cassidy: It happens, Mack.

Mack: No, it doesn't. Not to me.

Cassidy: You're getting older. These things happen on the downside of your career.

~Mack looks up at Treat with anger~

Mack: Older? Downside? I'm only 31 you fuckin' rat.

Cassidy: I don't mean it like that... You have to admit, Mack, you're not the healthiest guy. Your drinking, your smoking, and your... Well... Whatever else it is you do. All of it is catching up to you.

Mack: Fuck yourself.

Cassidy: I'm just trying to look out for you. I always have.

Mack: Maybe I can turn my shit around? Maybe I can quit drinking and get myself back together.

~Mack and Treat exchange a doubtful look to one another. Mack lets out a sigh and takes another sip of his beer~

Mack: What then? What do I do now? Retire?

Cassidy: Not necessarily. I think we just have to look at what's feasible for you. Maybe we should start talking about your legacy.

Mack: Never thought about that before.

Cassidy: Maybe now's the time. What kind of legacy do you want to leave behind once you're out of this business? How do you want people to remember you?

Mack: Not as the guy who lost his title due to a simple kick to the face.

Cassidy: Fair enough. Then think. What can we do right now that can cement your reputation here?

~They both think for a moment. Mack raises an eyebrow as he looks up at Cassidy~

Cassidy: What? Think of something?

Mack: We need to talk to Zybala. Tonight.

~We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Uh oh...what does Mack have planned?

Hood: Depends...how much has he had to drink?

Smith: He seemed fairly lucid

Hood: So maybe a twelve pack...hmm, well, given that bit of information, I have to say that I have no idea what he's planning

Smith: Impeccable reporting as always

Singles Match
Ariel Shadows (3-1) vs. the Queenslayer Legion (3-1)

~The crowd is on their feet ready for some significant in-ring action! They’ve seen some squashes and some, well, interesting happenings. But they want some competition!! Belvedere clears his throat, much to the fans delight! They pop~

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

~The sound of a clock counting down hits the P.A. system and there is a mixed reaction from the fans as the arena is plunged into darkness. As the clock winds down, the image of a novelty snow globe comes up on the big screen. It’s fashioned like a snow globe, except it looks as though there is a desert sandstorm going on within! Being buried by layers upon layers of sand, it seems as though a miniature Starlight is in a deep slumber..~

Belvedere: “Coming to us from AOKIGAHARA, JAPAN..”

~The desert snow globe shatters loudly as the main part of the song kicks in. The Legion inside is wide awake with purpose. Like a true ronin, the miniature Legion from the globe is up to her feet and ready for action, and she becomes full size in front of the eyes of the fans on the big screen. The fans cheer as the house lights fade back in, accompanied by neon blue searchlights emanating from the side of the ramp, and they cheer even louder as the curtains are thrown back and Starlight appears on the entrance ramp with a confident, knowing smile..~

Belvedere: “Standing at FIVE FOOT THREE INCHES tall and weighing in tonight at ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SEVEN POUNDS! REPRESENTING JAPAN”

[Violin drop]
Shatter me!
Somebody make me feel alive
And shatter me

~Legion makes her way down the ramp at the same pace as the music, reaching ringside and climbing the steps before leaping majestically over the top rope and throwing up her trademark taunt to another cheer..~

Belvedere: “Ladies and gentlemen, this is THE QueenSlayer, the Last Ronin Legion

Smith: The December Newcomer of the Month looks to get a winning streak going. She was victorious two weeks ago against Shootah. Tonight, she takes on a fellow 3-1 competitor.

Hood: Legion’s been here nearly two months yet I feel as though I know very little about her.

Smith: Well let’s hope that changes as we move forward. She’s talented and certainly capable of carving out a nice career here in OCW

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

~“Jan Brady” by Lunachicks begins to play! The fans stand and give a stronger than usual response to the OCW newcomer, but wrestling veteran – Ariel Shadows. Ariel makes her way to the ring with a look on her face that says, “Here we go again.” She hustles up the steps and enters into the ring, keeping a close eye on Depth~

Belvedere: From Anchorage, Alaska…standing 6’1 and weighing in at 141lbs…Ariel Shadows!!!

~Belvedere exits the ring. The bell sounds~

Smith: Alright! Legion and Ariel Shadows…the winner goes to 4-1…the loser drops to 3-2.

Hood: Records do mean something around here. It’s a long, arduous climb to the top…but the more you win, the quicker you can reach the summit

Smith: Indeed

~Legion heads toward Shadows. Ariel looks at Legion, somewhat nonplussed. Ariel’s read a bunch of interesting stuff about her partner. Legion glares back. Shadows begins to rotate her hands, focusing very intently on them. It’s as though she’s trying to conjure up some DARK MAGIC~

Smith: What is she doing?

Hood: I think she’s trying to summon a fireball. At least, that’s what I heard she’d been practicing

Smith: Is that even possible?

Hood: Depends on where you wrestle, I suppose

~Ariel’s intensity grows…her hands rotate faster and faster. The fans, at first, scoffed at the idea. Some laughed…but, as her intensity grows, as her hand speed picks up they begin to…believe. Everyone leans in, curious to see if she can generate a legit fireball. Legion even stands, somewhat nonplussed (emulating her opponent from moments earlier). The tables have turned, friends. Ariel moves faster and faster and faster and faster~

Smith: Surely this is ridiculous, right?

Hood: My name ain’t fucking Shirley, you dick

~Faster and faster and faster until she rears back and thrusts her hands forward!!! The crowd gasps. Legion winces, slightly. Shadow’s hands open to reveal – nothing. There is a slight pause in the atmosphere as everyone is a bit confused and disappointed. Ariel charges forward, taking advantage of the elaborate distraction and drills Legion in the sternum with a Thrust Kick!!! Legion flies into a corner. Ariel stays on top of her, lowering a shoulder into Legion’s gut before climbing to the second rope and delivering a series of right hands into Legion’s head~

Smith: Props to Ariel for remaining so dedicated to that ridiculous act that some of these fans and, to a lesser extent, Legion…bought it

Hood: You bought it, don’t lie

Smith: No comment

~Shadows ceases with the punching and drops down to her feet. She grabs Legion by the arm and yanks her forward, looking for a short arm clothesline…Legion ducks and catches Ariel’s head on the way by, dropping her to the mat with a neckbreaker!!!~

Smith: Nice counter by Legion…he needed something to get this match back to par

Hood: Ariel threw a pretty elaborate trick at Legion to gain the early advantage. Is she a one trick pony?

Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. I think Ariel was merely poking fun at Legion

~Ariel sits up, holding her neck. It’s not injured or anything, just stinging. Legion pops back up rather quickly, showing the spryness of her youth. Ariel returns to her feet, turns around to face Legion and is met with a forearm to the head. Ariel backs into the ropes…Legion whips her off…Ariel runs across the ring, she hits the ropes, bounces off and is dropped with a Big Boot! Legion stands over Ariel, jumps into the air and drops a knee into the face of Shadows!! Shadows immediately rolls over, covering her face and kicking her legs~

Smith: And now Legion is asserting herself. She’s got Ariel down and in trouble

Hood: Nothing like a good, old fashioned knee to the face to teach someone a lesson

Smith: And what would that lesson be?

Hood: If you’re gonna throw a pretend fireball at someone…you best not miss

~Legion takes advantage of an opportune situation by sitting on Ariel’s back and locking in a Camel Clutch!! She wrenches back, really applying the pressure to the neck and back of Shadows. Ariel doesn’t scream or yell…but the look on her face tells the story – this does not feel good. We see a giant red welt beginning to form on her forehead from Legion’s knee~

Smith: Legion is wearing Ariel down. Shadows desperately needs something to turn the momentum

Hood: She is a veteran…she’s been through a lot…this may be too much for her, Smith.

Smith: I hope not…OCW management has high hopes for Ariel. Then again, they like Legion a lot, too

Hood: The roster is so hot right now, Smith. Just like Hansel.

~Ariel, realizing she’s in a tough situation, starts to power up. She’s showing the true grit of a veteran. Legion tries to keep her grounded…but it’s becoming increasingly obvious that Shadows is going to overpower her and get this thing to a standing position. Legion does the only thing she can think of to stymie the momentum…she leaps up, looking to slam her ass into Ariel’s back. Ariel, though, feeling the release of pressure with Legion in the air, uses this window to get to her feet! Legion wraps her legs around Ariel’s waist to keep from falling to the mar. Ariel snares Legion by the hair and turns around, facing the center of the ring. She slings Legion to the mat with a snap mare. She takes a few steps back and runs forward, flipping over, grabbing Legion’s head and delivering another blow to the neck via a rolling snap mare!! Legion’s body snaps back, slamming into the mat~

Smith: Ariel has fought back! She’s got a chance to win this!

Hood: Damn she’s trying to break Legion’s neck

Smith: It’s wrestling 101, Hood. You find an area and you work it over

~Ariel returns to her feet and grabs Legion’s legs…she hooks them under her arms and falls back, catapulting Legion from the mat toward the corner. Legion lands on the middle buckle. Ariel, seeing this, pops back to her feet and turns around. Legion leaps off with a moonsault!! Ariel catches her coming down with a cutter!!! Legion flips over, onto her back!! Ariel hustles over for the pin, Scruff counts~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP

Smith: Wow! I thought that was it!

Hood: No shit, man. Legion was caught BIG TIME

Smith: Indeed…a testament to her toughness and will to win that she was able to kick out and remain in this match

~Ariel shows no signs of frustration. She’s been in these types of situations before…she knows you have to keep moving forward. She grabs Legion by the hair and drags her toward the ropes. She hangs Legion’s arms over the middle ropes and throws a few vicious forearms to the side of her head to keep her in position. Shadows takes off…she hits the ropes, bounces off and charges at Legion. She jumps into the air and comes down…Legion moves!! Ariel slips through the ropes and lands roughly on the outside. The fans at ringside all wince from her unprotected landing~

Smith: Ouch

Hood: I hope she didn’t break a hip

Smith: She’s not that old!

~Legion, kneeling near the ropes, sees Ariel fighting to her feet. Legion pops up and runs…she hits the ropes, bounces off and flies through the opposite set of ropes spearing her body into Shadows with a Suicide Dive!!! Shadows slams, back first, into the barricade. Legion lands surprisingly easy on her feet…she whips Ariel into the apron…again, Ariel’s back SLAMS into a hard surface, this time the edge of the apron. Legion leaps up with a bicycle kick, drilling Ariel in the face!! Ariel collapses to the floor~

Smith: Legion is in total control. This feels like a lead that could be insurmountable

Hood: Man it’s like a fucking switch flipped. Legion went from just another wrestler to ultra-aggressive

Smith: She was feeling another win slip away. The loss to Collins was one thing…a loss here could prevent her from securing a spot at Social Justice

Hood: Fuck man that shit’s like five weeks away. We’re already talking about spots on that show?

Smith: Limited spots, Hood. And, with a roster like this…those spots become increasingly difficult to attain

~Legion smirks. She’s beginning to feel confident. She grabs Ariel by the hair, yanks her up and tosses her back into the ring. Legion steps up onto the apron and through the ropes, stalking her wounded competitor. Ariel gets to all fours, showing that she’s got some fight. Legion hooks her legs, lifting her into a wheel barrow position. She tosses Ariel up, catches her around the waist, bends back and slams her into the mat with a German Suplex!! She bridges for the pin…Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!!

Smith: Whoa! So close!

Hood: Damn that Legion chick is strong

Smith: She’s very talented…people keep overlooking her. I’m telling you, don’t sleep on Legion

Hood: Can I sleep beside her?

Smith: You watch your mouth!

~Legion shows no signs of frustration. She returns to her feet and leans against the ropes, waiting for Ariel. Ariel gets to her feet, staggering around. Legion ricochets off the ropes and charges at Ariel. She leaps into the air with Ronin’s Revenge!!! Shadows drops to her knees!! Legion flies over Ariel, landing on her back. She springs to her feet, a bit thrown off. She turns around…Shadows pops to her feet and spins around with The Kicker!!! Legion catches her~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Legion’s got Ariel!

~Legion looks to hit a Capture Suplex. She tosses Ariel over her head…Ariel lands on her feet. An unsuspecting Legion turns around and walks right into THE KICKER!!! Legion hits the mat!! Shadows makes the cover, Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…ARIEL SHADOWS!!!!!

Smith: Wow! I did not see that coming!

Hood: Ariel is more resilient than I gave her credit for

Smith: Indeed! She smacked Legion with The Kicker and earned that win. Huge win for Ariel!

Hood: Yea and a tough loss for Legion

Smith: Legion shouldn’t be disappointed, though. She gave an extremely talented competitor a hard fought contest…heck, Legion almost won!

Hood: She was in control until the very end

Smith: Indeed great showing by both competitors. I can’t wait to see where they go from here!

~Massacre cuts backstage, where OCW World Heavyweight Champion, Paul Paras, leans casually against a shipping crate in the hallway. Across from him stands OCW announcer JONES, who has either just heard something incredibly funny from Paras or is otherwise uproariously laughing at his own joke. Either way, the Champ remains in his stoic dream world as usual and merely smiles at Jones’ enthusiasm.~

“Excuse me.”

~Jones turns to face the man whose hand is now on his shoulder, the large Italian-American hand of one Mario Maurako. Mario muscles his way past Jones, mostly ignoring him while his attention is squarely on Paras. Jones doesn’t seem to take the hint.~

Jones: Oh man, it’s Perfectly Marvelous, together in the same room!

~Maurako turns back to Jones, annoyed, while Paras appears amused.~

Mario Maurako: Sure is.

Paul Paras: Yes.

Jones: OCW’s only two-time Hall-of-Famers!

Mario Maurako: Yep.

Paul Paras: Still yes.

Jones: This would be a career moment for me! Greg would put me back in the announce booth for sure! Could I get you guys to do an interview for an old friend? Maybe you can tell me all about your closest ally, Silver Cyanide, and how he…?

Perfectly Marvelous: No.

~They respond simultaneously as if they knew the other’s response before he gave it (as any good tag team does; it’s in the tag team rule book, right next to wearing matching gear). Jones tries to hide his disappointment and sheepishly backs away down the hall, leaving Mario to turn back to Paras.~

Mario Maurako: Who the hell was that?

Paul Paras: No idea. What’s up?

Mario Maurako: Cyanide has again been avoiding my calls and texts. Have you heard anything from him?

Paul Paras: Not a word.

~Paras adjusts the OCW Heavyweight Championship over his shoulder, which instantly catches Mario’s eye.~

Mario Maurako: Oh shoot man, I’m sorry. Congratulations on winning the OCW Title for a second time. You’re going to be the perfect champion for OCW moving forward.

Paul Paras: Thank you, and I understand, my brother.

~Mario stares at the OCW World Heavyweight Championship for an awkwardly long time, until Paras finally breaks the silence.~

Paul Paras: You want to touch it?

Mario Maurako: Huh?

Paul Paras: The Championship? Do you want to...you know... touch it?

~Mario laughs nervously.~

Mario Maurako: No, I was just realizing that this has been like the closest I’ve ever really been to the championship.

Paul Paras: Well the offer stands.

Mario Maurako: I appreciate that, but I don’t want to touch it or hold it until it is mine. Now if you’ll excuse me I know Cyanide is here somewhere. I’m just going to head to the ring and call him out. That usually does the trick.

~Paras looks expectantly at his tag team partner. Mario’s brow wrinkles.~

Mario Maurako: What?

Paul Paras: Come on, touch it. You know you want to. Everybody’s doing it. You wanna be cool, don’t you?

~Mario hesitates and laughs under his breath. He shakes his head at the aloof Paras and leaves to head for the stage. Paras smirks to himself, gazing at the belt.~

Voice: I’d like to touch it.

~Paras’ gaze darts to the left as a woman’s voice disarms him from his meditative state. Our camera catches the surprised glint in the champion’s eyes as a young woman, likely in her late 20’s with straight, dusky brown hair walks into view. She wears an oversized “PARAS: Two-Time Hall of Famer” t-shirt as a makeshift tunic, tied with a belt at her waist, over black yoga leggings printed with white flowers. She meets Paras’ stare with a purposely-crooked smile.~

Woman: …If you’re still offering.

~She darts cheerfully up to Paul and wraps her arms around him in a firm embrace. Paras’ face tells a story of perplexed amusement.~

Paul Paras: Raleigh? What are you doing here?

Raleigh: Oh, you know, traveling the world, looking for purpose, and studying my Triple P Yoga. I was in town, so I thought I’d find the Master himself for some tips! Also… you sorta saved my life once (thanks for that)… so I figured I at least owed you dinner… Champ.

~Paras begins to speak but holds his tongue, instead contemplating the girl’s sudden appearance and the night he’s already had. His smirk returns.~

Paul Paras: I suppose my work is done here. And you do owe me dinner. At least.

~Paul casually shrugs at his visitor and drifts past her down the hallway. The woman apparently known as Raleigh watches him for a moment before flashing a bright smile and hurrying after him. We cut back to ringside.~

Hood: Paul has groupies everywhere, doesn’t he?

Smith: Perks of being the champion. Meanwhile, it sounds like Mario Maurako is determined to find some answers for Silver Cyanide’s betrayal at Throwback.

Hood: Cyanide derailed the High Impact Express! I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes with an angry Maurako running around.

~Kickstart My Heart by Mötley Crüe hits and Mario Maurako makes his way out onto the stage and down the ramp microphone in hand. Mario walks with purpose not taking any time to slap hands with the fans and he clearly is in a foul mood. Mario climbs up the steps and enters the ring and stands in the middle.~

Mario Maurako: For those of you living under a rock, last week at Throwback I had The Big Bifford right where I wanted him again. Then the unthinkable happened. My so called friend and tag team partner went into business for himself in what was the kick heard around the world.

~The fans boo at the mention of the double cross last week. Mario pauses and waits for the fans to settle back down.~

Mario Maurako: Cyanide, you’ve been ducking me for a week, and now is the time and this is definitely the place. Get your ass out here and explain yourself to me, these fans, and the entire World what was going through your mind last night; and maybe, just maybe, I won’t rip your leg off and beat you to death with it.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA

FEEL GOO--FEEL GOO--FEEL GOO--FFFFFFF

~A record scratches as Feel Good Inc. by Gorillaz starts to play over the speakers. The crowd gets on their feet and a quiet wave of boos and some cheers come from the stands. After a moment of musical silence, G.O.A.T. by Polyphia begins to play. Mario lowers his microphone and looks up towards the ramp as Silver Cyanide steps out from behind the curtain in his street clothes and sunglasses, his own microphone in hand. The response is decidedly mixed as Cyanide stops on the ramp and stares down at Mario. Mario stands in the ring, silent and expectant, eager to hear what Cyanide has to say. Cyanide begins to slowly walk towards the ring.~

Cyanide: Mario...listen to me. What I’m about to say is very important. Do you remember asking me for your help back in November? When you needed to build a team? I never thought you wanted to ask me to actually wrestle. You never give me that much credit. You always want me around, but you always want me around to play second fiddle. You need a manager or a sidekick or a hype man, but you never need a PARTNER...so I was surprised when you asked me to get back in the ring.

~Cyanide makes his way to the ring steps and climbs up and into the ring.~

Cyanide: Then you wanted me to actually team up with you like the old days. Bring back the HIEx. Even though Paras is here, and you share a Hall of Fame plaque with him, you chose me to be a tag partner to go after Bifford. I thought I was done for good, and yet here you are asking for my partnership, and I think I’ve got one more match in me. Then you talk about a tag run. You talk about tag titles. You talk about getting up and climbing the mountain and getting the OCW Championship...and I realize I’m just a pawn in your game. You never took me seriously, Mario. And THAT’S why I kicked your head out of your head!

~The crowd boos...there are a few more boos than cheers this time around.~

Smith: Did Cyanide just say he kicked Mario’s head out of his head?

Cyanide: But let’s face it, Mario. You’re washed up. You were washed up YEARS ago. Your closest taste of the OCW Title was almost twenty years ago, and you STILL got your ass handed to you. You’re never going to hold the big belt. Paul can still swing it, obviously. I could probably swing it if I wanted to, but I don’t. I wanted my goodbye run, my retirement ceremony where the whole locker room comes out and applauds me in the ring, but you insist on using me to get to the title, when you have never, ever been good enough to grab it. And now? Dude, Mario, you’re not even healthy enough to grab it! I’m not going to have you kill my legacy with losses to 85-year-old men while simultaneously killing yourself physically!

Mario Maurako: Is that what you think? You must’ve started drinking that Kool-Aid that Bifford has been passing around. Which is kind of funny because it isn’t like him to share any sort of caloric intake with anyone. Why don’t you take off those proverbial rose colored glasses you’re wearing and let me hit you with some truths? Truth #1, I’ve had one opportunity in a singles match for the OCW Title. You’ve lost in OCW Title matches three times. Truth #2, I’ve never lost a SINGLE championship I’ve ever won here in OCW. None of them! Go ahead I’ll wait for you to google it. I’ve held each of the active championships with the exception to the OCW Title and Paradigm Championship and they’ve all been stolen from me. Truth #3, I’m better than half of the former OCW Champions, and Truth #4; I’m better THAN YOU.

Cyanide: Blah blah blah. You just keep telling yourself those things. You want to prove yourself? How about this… Silver Cyanide vs Mario Maurako in a Hazardous Ladder Match at Social Justice?

~The crowd erupts for the return of the Hazardous Ladder Match. Mario is in the ring smiling and laughing.~

Mario Maurako: I’ll fight you in any kind of match, but I shouldn’t have been surprised that you would call for the Hazardous Ladder Match. The only question I have is what are we going to hang over the ring Einstein?

Cyanide: I’m glad you asked, just give me one second.

~The fans murmur and Mario stares at Cyanide, confused. Cyanide walks over to the edge of the ring. Someone comes over with a velvet bag and hands it to him. Cyanide accepts it and turns to face Mario again.~

Cyanide: Now...I’ve got some sway here at OCW. Seeing as how I’m a Hall of Famer...much like you...and also a multi-time OCW World Champion...unlike you...I’ve got the ear of the powers that be. So… at Social Justice we will fight for this!

~Cyanide opens up the end of the velvet bag and produces...a foam and plastic replica OCW Title from the merch booth. The crowd begins to laugh, then begin to boo. Mario shakes his head, clearly not finding this very amusing. Cyanide drops the bag and flings the title over his shoulder, puffing his chest out and slapping the face plate.~

Cyanide: Yeah...that looks nice. How about it, Mario? You’re never going to get a real shot. And even though you claim you’re better than me, I think it’s pretty obvious you aren’t. The only reason you’re in the Hall of Fame is: A) Paul Paras, and B) You’ve been here for fifty years. What do you say? Wanna prove me wrong? I’ve been out of the game for a decade and I will still whoop your ass.

~The smirk is gone from Mario’s face as he stares down Cyanide. The tension between the two is so thick you can cut it with a knife. Finally Mario raises his microphone back to his lips.~

Mario Maurako: I accept!

~Mario immediately follows up the acceptance with a forearm shot to the chest of Cyanide causing the faux title to fall to the mat. With Cyanide staggered and surprised Mario hooks Cyanide’s left arm and then lifts him into the air and drives him down to the mat with a ferocious Simply Marvelous! Mario immediately gets back to his feet and kicks the faux belt from the ring and stares at the downed Cyanide, and then slowly backs out of the ring.~

Smith: Mario Maurako and Silver Cyanide at Social Justice in a Hazardous Ladder Match!

Hood: Can Mario even climb a ladder?

Smith: I'm sure he can

Hood: What if he climbs a faulty ladder and falls? Would he be capable of getting up?

Smith: Again, I'm sure he's capable of getting up, Hood.

Hood: Hmm, I don't know about this. I think Cyanide just suckered Mario. It's going to be tough if Mario can't win a fake OCW Title.

Smith: Mario is due a big win. I can't think of a bigger win on his resume than a potential victory over Silver Cyanide at Social Justice in a Hazardous Ladder Match -

Hood: For a fake OCW Title!

Smith: Right. We're five weeks away from Social Justice...three matches have been announced and already this show is looking like a potential show of the year.

Hood: March 11th is shaping up to be a long night!

Smith: Indeed.

~While James Kelloggs, Joe and Bester were doing their thing, Nanook, Bester’s old manager was standing off in the shadows wearing a plow truck driver’s get up. It was Joe’s idea to try out a new gimmick of a plow truck driver for the city of Buffalo in a dark match, so Carhartt overalls, complete with grease stains. Big thick and heavy winter boots, two flannel jackets, a insulated winter cap, work gloves, walkie talkie and Nanook is sweating like a whore in church in the florida heat. Nanook just about had a heat stroke wrestling in this get up~

~As he watched Bester pour his heart and say he’s sorry, the gears in Nanook’s mind started to turn. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out his phone. After a few swipes he launched the Ebay app! Ignoring the reminder to leave feedback for the crap he bought for this plow truck driver stuff, he does a quick search~

“OGDA Mask.”

~After a couple of seconds, there is one listing.~

“Genuine OGDA Mask.”

Nanook clicks on it. He’s pretty sure it’s Bester’s mask, he’s only been looking at the stupid thing ever since Mexico. In the description the seller states that he found it on a beach one morning in Key West. Buy it now for $1200.00

Nanook clicks to buy it and 30 seconds later, he pays for it.

“Miss the mask Bester? Why don’t your old buddy Nanook fix that for you.” Nanook says as he switches off his phone………..

~We cut back to ringside~

Smith: What on Earth is he doing?

Hood: Buying some wrestling memorabilia

Smith: He's playing mind games, Hood

Hood: Always thinking the worst of Nanook, man. He may want it autographed, but, aside from that...I'd say it's a fairly innocuous act

Smith: That man disgusts me.

Hood: That's only because you have the stomach of a six year old girl

Smith: Strange analogy...anyway, it's time for our next match folks as The Incredible One makes his return to the ring! Let's head down to ringside!

Singles Match
The Incredible One (19-6) vs. Mike Harrison (7-3)

~The crowd is enjoying themselves. Many of them seem to be having a hot debate. They are talking about the Super Bowl. Fans from 31 NFL teams are calling it the worst Super Bowl ever. Fans of the Patriots think they are crazy. Only one thing can bring these sides together…Belvedere clears his throat. The crowd goes wild~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring…he is a former Craze Champion…Mike Harrison!

~Harrison appears confused, distracted. This is definitely NOT the Mike Harrison we are used to seeing. Perhaps TIO’s attack last week has him keeping a constant eye over his shoulder~

Smith: The dreaded ‘non-entrance’

Hood: Mike Harrison fans may want to turn away for the next, oh, minute and a half

ARE YOU READY?!

~The thunderous boom of Disturbed's singer screaming the lyrics causes the crowd to cheer. The Incredible One walks out onto the stage, glancing into the OCW crowd. He curls his arms, before letting out a roar as he throws his leather jacket off and makes his way down the ramp. He slides into the ring from the mat and goes up a turnbuckle, posing for the crowd~

Belvedere: Currently in the ring, from Halifax, NS, Canada, weighing in at 235lbs... THE INCREDIBLE ONE!

~TIO jumps off the turnbuckle and climbs another, repeating the pose before coming down. His music fades as he stretches the ropes and loud "TIO" chants echo throughout the arena~

Smith: The former OCW Champion…the Hall of Famer…The Incredible One is BACK

Hood: Nice to see he’s looking his opponent in the EYE this week. Damn sneak attacks at Throwback. WEAK ASS ATTACKING

Smith: He was simply giving them their receipt

~Harrison approaches TIO. His fists are down. He seems to have a proposal. He starts talking to TIO about ‘teaming up’. TIO tilts his head slightly as if to say “Really?” Harrison continues to argue his point~

Smith: Interesting strategy by the former Craze Champion

Hood: Yea, TIO may have considered this BEFORE the attack that ended his hopes for Death March

Smith: Indeed

Hood: But I don’t think TIO wants any dead weight dragging him down in 2019…shit, he’s already got an aging dog

Smith: Don’t you disrespect November!

~TIO pats Harrison on the shoulder, trying to calm the anxiously eager competitor down. Once Harrison stops talking and ‘calms’ down TIO looks him in the eye and says “No.” Harrison’s jaw drops. He tries to throw a punch…TIO blocks it and unloads on Harrison with right hands!!! Mike stumbles into a corner. TIO kicks Harrison in the gut over and over and over until Harrison drops to the mat. TIO continues kicking him, stomping the man into oblivion! The fans go wild! TIO ceases the stomping and throws a final kick into the face, the cap things off~

Smith: I think that’s an emphatic decline

Hood: Jerk…he could have just circled ‘no’ on the RSVP

Smith: I don’t believe that was an option, Hood

~TIO snares Harrison by the hair and drags the wounded man near the center of the ring. He straightens him up and delivers a knife edged chop that blasts through the OCW atmosphere. He quickly pulls Harrison in, hoists Mike onto his shoulders and drops him to the mat with a Fireman’s Carry DDT!!! Harrison is out, ready to be pinned…but the former OCW Champion isn’t finished~

Smith: This is going to be a short night for the returning TIO

Hood: Just what the doctor ordered

Smith: Yep…he looks to be in tip-top shape!

~TIO pulls Harrison to his feet. We all know what’s coming next. He boots Harrison in the gut, hooks him, lifts him up and drives him into the mat with That Damn Incredible!!! Harrison is WRECKED! TIO goes for the pin, Scruff makes the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner….THE INCREDIBLE ONE!!!!!

Smith: Dominant win for TIO as his revenge tour continues!

Hood: He took no fucking prisoners…and by no fucking prisoners, I mean he killed Mike Harrison

Smith: Metaphorically speaking, you are correct

~ After the match has ended between TIO and Harrison the camera zooms to “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell who begins to slowly wheel himself down the way to ring. The crowd begins to boo as TIO directs his attention to O’Donnell. CJ picks up a microphone from his lap as he stops halfway down the entrance way. ~

CJ O’Donnell: Bravo .. Bravo TIO! I must admit I am glad you found some of your balls and they didn’t die when your wife did. I was kind of worried you would come back to OCW as a referee or a legend contract with half the other roster.

~ CJ smirks at TIO.~

CJ O’Donnell: You may not admit it but the old TIO is starting to slowly but surely come out. A man you despise you helped at Throwback. A man you yourself said you had no respect for. Don’t you remember why Matt and I came here when you asked us. You were tired of guys like Vargas who tried to steal the spotlight from you. You wanted to make an example out of them. You wanted a trio that would strike fear into the hearts of everyone on the OCW payroll.

~ O’Donnell takes a breath as he rolls about another ten feet forward. ~

CJ O’Donnell: Face it TIO. You were jealous that Matt and I outshined The Incredible One in such a short period of time. You couldn’t stand to share success. I called you a brother and look what you did to me.

~The fans cheer as they love the fact that CJ is in a wheelchair. ~

CJ O’Donnell: I put you on the shelf so you could become the man you were meant to be. You got soft. You wanted your happily ever after but face it TIO for guys like that Happily Ever After does not exist. You have been lying to yourself TIO and it is time you face the facts. TIO your wife was a whore … She was sleeping around with Marcus in his office. I even heard a rumor she gave Hood head the entire Massacre the night before we had our epic Triple Threat with Meyhu…

~ You can tell that TIO is obviously heated over the last statement CJ made. O’Donnell has a smirk on his face. ~

CJ O’Donnell: And that’s not even the worst of it.

~Pause for dramatic affect.~

CJ O’Donnell: I heard a train was ran on her by guys like Vargas, Grenier, Scruff, Puff and even Gruff. I guess TIO wasn’t that incredible in the bedroom huh?

~The crowd has begun a thunderous “asshole” chant, directed towards CJ, who smirks at his own comments. TIO takes a few deep breaths before advancing towards the ring ropes, glaring a hole into CJ.~

TIO: ...Are you finished?

CJ O’Donnell: Hmmm …

~CJ looks at TIO and can tell his blood pressure is at an all time high. ~

CJ O’Donnell: Why do you think Knux was always around. He was pimping her out behind your back and reaping the rewards. Hell she didn’t even know about it but Knux sure has been living the lifestyle since she showed up back in your life TIO hasn’t he? Think about it TIO everyone you have ever called a friend has stabbed you in the back and you had no idea.

~CJ waits for the crowd to quiet down with the “asshole” chants as he has some more to say but he wants to make sure everyone will hear.~

CJ O’Donnell: Maybe you should ask Knux for like twenty percent or something for his cut as the rumor backstage is that wonderful daughter of yours isn’t even yours. By the way, who named her wasn’t it Knux who gave you that suggestion? Or maybe it was Vargas or Grenier or Marcus. Did you ever wonder why she has been set for life in OCW? Why she dumped you the moment she saw an opportunity. TIO you are weak. You act like a badass but like a good Canuck you were used as you have always been so gullible. TIO have you seen TLS by any chance I heard a rumor he was going to bring your wife back to life just so he can play “Operation” with her.

~TIO shakes his head, even chuckles slightly, before slowly exiting the ring and standing in front of CJ in the wheelchair. He looks to the crowd, who are hot for a brawl, as he turns his attention back to his former partner and friend.~

TIO: I’m glad you got that off your chest… let’s go for a walk.

~TIO drops the mic as CJ begins to shout at him to not move him. TIO grabs the wheelchair and begins to roll CJ up the ramp at a slow pace. They make it to the stage where TIO looks around while CJ is yelling. TIO finds a spot he likes as he takes ahold of the wheelchair once more before running with it and shoving the wheelchair, with CJ in it, off the stage into a group of tables with electrical equipment on it! CJ cries out in pain as TIO watches from the top of the stage as the crowd chants “you deserve it!”. TIO goes to exit backstage as referees go to attend to CJ. TIO stops though, looks back at his carnage, and begins a faster pace towards CJ. He slides off the stage and throws the referees out of his way before grabbing CJ by his beard and begins dragging him away from all the broken tables. He takes a hold of CJ’s right leg as CJ pleads for him to not hurt it, but TIO takes the leg and smashes it against the side of the stage. CJ screams from the pain, holding his leg but TIO grabs it again and smashes it even harder on the corner. TIO picks CJ up, placing him on his shoulders, before hitting the “This Damn Incredible” argentine piledriver right on the concrete! “Holy shit” chants go throughout the OCW Arena as security finally comes out to break TIO up from CJ. Knux is with the security team, and as he passes TIO, the two stare at each other for a moment, before Knux goes to look at CJ. TIO climbs the stage and heads to the back as we cut to ringside while EMT’s come to CJ’s aid.~

Smith: I'm no fan of CJ...what he said out here tonight was deplorable. However, nobody deserves that

Hood: TIO is the man we always knew him to be. He's no father. He's certainly no husband. He's a maniac with an uncontrollable temper.

Smith: He has been a vile individual throughout his OCW tenure. I was hoping the past year was a sign that he'd matured into a benevolent man...those hopes are diminishing.

Hood: I just hope CJ is okay. He might need some medical marijuana...kinda ironic when you think about what happened last week

Smith: Don't remind me. I hear Checkers is finally beginning to sober up, though

Hood: Well thank goodness for that

Smith: TIO has decimated CJ. It's an attack that would leave most men out for good. However, knowing OCW's Ironman...I have a feeling we'll see CJ back in the not-too-distant future with his sights set on paying TIO back

~General Manager Mike Zybala sits behind the desk in the GM office. He looks perplexed as he stares at the two men sitting across from him: Mack O'Connor and Treat Cassidy~

Zybala: So... You want me to do what now?

Cassidy: Mack has won four different titles during his tenure with this company. That constitutes him being honored as a Grand Slam Champion.

Zybala: But he's never won the Tag Titles.

Mack: It doesn't matter. Requirements say four major titles. It doesn't specify.

Zybala: I'm not sure if I agree... I think you're right about four, but I'm not sure it can be any four.

Mack: You're wrong. Any four can count.

Zybala: I think it just depends on your school of thought...

~Mack's hands, which were resting on the table, clinch up into fists. Zybala pauses before continuing~

Zybala: I'll tell you what... I'll look into it, okay? But even so, I only have Mack on the record of having earned three titles.

~Zybala looks at a piece of paper in front of him~

Zybala: The World Title, Paradigm Title, and Savage Title.

Mack: What about the TransAtlantic Title?

~Zybala looks confused~

Zybala: The which now?

Mack: TransAtlantic. I won it the same night I won the World Title.

Zybala: I literally have no record of that title. Literally.

Mack: I took the TransAtlantic Title from Alice Knight at Last Man Standing!

~Mack slams his fists down on the desk. Zybala hesitates, not sure what to say, but he holds strong~

Zybala: I'm not doubting that... But we simply have no record of that title.

Mack: I literally have the belt in a box in my garage in LA.

Zybala: Even so, I can't recognize a championship when I have no paper trail to prove it even exists.

~Treat leans forward, trying to be the reasonable one~

Cassidy: Look... What can you do for us? How can we move forward on this?

~Zybala takes a breath, looking at his paperwork~

Zybala: I guess, either way, he needs to win the Tag Titles or-

Mack: Put me in a Tag Title match then.

Zybala: You don't have a partner.

Mack: I'll be my own partner.

Zybala: That's not how that works.

~Treat shoots a glare at Mack, clearly embarrassed at Mack's antics. Treat then looks back to Zybala~

Cassidy: Look, Mr. Zybala, you're a man of great integrity and intelligence. What can we do to take a step in the right direction?

~Zybala, indulging on the compliment for a moment, thinks~

Zybala: I suppose while we look into what actually defines a Grand Slam champion... You haven't won the Craze Title yet.

Mack: Are you fuckin' serious?

Zybala: I'm just saying.

Cassidy: Mack, relax.

Mack: That's a fuckin' insult. I'm supposed to demote myself and fight for the fuckin' Craze Title?

Zybala: Not exactly...

Cassidy: What do you mean?

Zybala: I can't just give you a shot at the Craze Title. You have to earn it.

Mack: Excuse me?

Zybala: Maybe we can book something next week, or maybe I can even get you into the Mike Roth Tournament and...

Mack: Are you fuckin' kidding me?

Zybala: It's all I can do for you.

~Mack is about to explode, but Treat pulls him aside for a moment so only they can hear each other~

Cassidy: This is something, Mack. You don't have to like it, but it gets you closer to that goal. Okay?

~Mack takes a few deep breaths, then glares back at Zybala~

Mack: Book it.

Zybala: Book what?

Mack: Craze Title. Book it.

Zybala: Mack, I just said I can't...

Mack: BOOK IT!

~Mack stands up and abruptly leaves the office. Cassidy looks embarrassed, but supports his client~

Cassidy: He's a bit temperamental.

Zybala: You think?

~Cassidy shrugs and follows after Mack. Zybala shakes it off and continues his work~

Smith: Mack has his sights set on completely the GRAND SLAM in OCW. All he needs is, apparently the Craze Title

Hood: A familiar foe owns that title

Smith: Indeed...Mack defeated Andrea via CHEATING at Serial Thrillers to win the Paradigm Championship.

Hood: Oh man it would piss her off if he went through her again to claim the Grand Slam

Smith: He's got to earn it, Hood...according to our GM

Hood: Ugh, Zybala sucks

Smith: I have to disagree...I think OCW is in a much better place since he took over. We've got many exciting happenings on the horizon including the Mike Roth Memorial...let's take a look at the brackets

Hood: Those brackets look a little wonky. I seem to remember the Margarita Mix brackets, when Welsh was in charge, looking way more symmetrical

Smith: Given who the tournament is memorializing, I'd say they look appropriate

Hood: Low key jab right there!

Smith: Anyway...our first match of the Mike Roth Memorial is next!

Mike Roth Invitational
Singles Match
Roach (6-6) vs. Tony the Spider (7-6)

~The crowd is buzzing. Who knows what they are buzzing about…could be anything, maybe even BEES. Belvedere clears his throat to a rousing ovation! The fans turn toward the ring, ready for some action~

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

Fans: ONE FALL!!

Belvedere: And it is the first round of the Mike Roth Memorial Tournament. Making his way to the ring first…

~”JUMP” by Van Halen begins to play. Smoke fills the entrance way as TONY THE SPIDER emerges! The crowd goes wild! Tony is looking buff and ready for this match. His mullet is in FULL FORCE. Some smoke gets in his eyes. He fires up and kicks the smoke machine out of the way. It flies into the crowd, but a fan catches it and immediately starts trying to sell it. Tony marches down the ramp, toward the ring. He rolls in under the bottom rope~

Belvedere: From Emilio’s Garage…standing 5’6 and weighing at a weight considerably over 190lbs…Tony the Spider!

~The fans cheer as Tony flexes a little and poses for the crowd~

Smith: Tony seems to be in the best shape of his career.

Hood: Considering what he looked like before, that's not much of an accomplishment.

Belvedere: And his opponent.....

~There is a shrill scream over the speakers before the Halloween theme begins to play. The fans give a somewhat mixed reaction…although boos seem to be prevailing over cheers, though the cheers are apparent. Roach emerges from behind the curtain sporting his Michael Myers mask. Roach heads to the ring, and some fans actually reach out for high fives. Maybe teaming with Alice has softened the fans view of the big man. Roach looks at the hands confused, not sure how to handle positive fan interactions, but just keeps making his way to the ring. He rolls under the ropes and stands up, taking off his mask in the process~

Belvedere: From Windsor, Ontario, Canada…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 265lbs…Roach!

~The fans still boo with some scattered cheering mixed in there~

Smith: It's seems some folks are starting to get on Roach's side a bit. Maybe it has something to do with him and Alice teaming up?

Hood: The worst thing he could have ever fucking done! I regret bringing him back last year.

~Roach and Tony are both checked by Puff, who then calls for the bell. Tony walks towards Roach and holds his hands up to demand a test of strength. Roach obliges and locks up with Mr. The Spider. The two struggle against each other for a bit before Tony starts pushing Roach back!!~

Hood: DRUG TEST THAT MAN!

Smith: Why?

Hood: There is no way Tony would be ever to push Roach.

Smith: True, but take a look at Roach.

Hood: What do you mean?

Smith: He's grinning.

~Roach indeed has a savage grin on his face. He lets Tony push him back all the way into the ropes before Roach has enough and shoves Tony half way across the ring. Tony lands on his ass as the fans continue their mix of cheers and boos. Tony scrambles to his feet and Roach just motions for Tony to bring it. Tony rushes over and starts peppering Roach's body with rights and left. Roach stands there unfazed~

Hood: And Tony is trying to do something with a barrage of Spider Bites.

Smith: He wants to advance in the tournament and break the losing streak his been on.

Hood: I personally hope he beats the Owl lover.

Smith: I don't think he loves Alice..

Hood: He didn't throw her off the scaffold head first. That's love in my book.

~Tony keeps up with his barrage when one fist catches Roach in the face. Roach staggers back, mostly out of surprise. Tony let's out his trademark laugh until he sees the look of unyielding rage in Roach's face. Tony doesn't have time to regret his decision before Roach starts pummeling him with punch of his own, and unlike Tony's, these are very effective. Tony is being pushed back against the opposite ropes when Roach grabs him and whips him in the ropes. As Tony comes back, Roach drops him with a giant big boot. Tony falls to the mat and Roach quickly goes and lifts him back up. Roach puts Tony's head between his legs and lifts him up for a powerbomb. Roach then runs towards the corner and launches Tony into the turnbuckles. Tony crashes into the corner and as he bounces forward, Roach spins him inside out with a wicked clothesline!~

Hood: There we go. This is what we expected from this match.

Smith: I don't think anyone will argue with that.

~Roach drags Tony back to his feet, tucks Tony's head under his arm and lift him up with a vertical suplex. Roach holds his opponent up for what seems like forever before slamming him to the mat with an earth shattering jackhammer!! Roach covers his opponent and Puff makes the count~

One......

two......

THREE!!

Belvedere: Here is your winner….ROACH!!!!

~Roach gets up from Tony and steps on him to walk over him. Puff tries to raise Roach's arm, but Roach yanks it away and leaves the ring~

Smith: And with that, Tony's hopes of winning the tournament get buried 6 Feet Under.

Hood: How about you leave the puns to the professionals?

Smith: Whatever you say, Hood. Roach advances to the second round, bringing him one step closer to challenging for the Craze Title!

Hood: Has he ever held a belt in OCW?

Smith: Nope

Hood: Shit...and to think some bitches cut and run when they lose one match. Roach is the man

Smith: He's worked hard over his five year career. Here's hoping it pays off in 2019!

~ The camera pans backstage in the OCW Arena to reveal newcomer Kitty Petrova emerging from a darkened hallway, moving towards the crimson light spilling from the EXIT sign. In black, from eyebrows to the knee-high stiletto boots on her feet, she appears as though she just appeared out of thin air, conjured from the darkness itself. She pushes the door open, propping it with the toe of her boot before lighting a cigarette. She takes a few puffs before leaning against the wall, peering into the darkness, squinting against the smoke curling up from the cigarette clamped between those bright red lips. ~

Petrova: Saturday night, I wasted an hour of my time, having words with an imbecile who said that there's no reason to compete in a company unless there's a promise of gold on the line. He went on to act as though in correcting his twisted world view, I was attempting to add a little shine to myself. Tell me, OCW, is that what I need? A little borrowed shine to prove myself?

~ She shakes her head slowly, dramatically rolling her eyes. ~

Petrova: Don't scramble for an answer, snowflakes. It was rhetorical. I'm not in love with the sound of my own voice like some of these other poor, unfortunate souls. Not at all. When I speak, I do so with the intent to say something worthwhile. Promises made. Promises kept. You know how it goes. And until Social Justice, I must keep my thirst for blood and violence and gold slaked just enough that I don't do more damage than I should. We wouldn't want that. No matter who ends up in my crosshairs, no matter whether they're coming at me with stars in their eyes, or fire in their guts – it all ends the same.

~ Flicking the cigarette out into the night, she lets the door slam shut as if trying to illustrate the point. A wry, dark chuckle slips past those smirking lips as she turns back. ~

Petrova: The lies. The truth. The future of the Paradigm Championship – hell, this very company has been thrown out in the open, under those hot lights, in front of that bloodthirsty crowd. We're going to dance, Rocket Man and I – we'll dance like nobody's watching and he didn't plagiarize his moniker from an overplayed Elton John hit. Oh, but we all saw what happened at Throwback. We watched the championship change hands – a PARADIGM SHIFT, if you will. We watched a man get lucky-

Houston: Is that so?

~ The crowd pops as Ed Houston appears from the shadows in much the same way Kitty did, shaking his head as he rests his hand on the belt resting over his shoulder. Petrova can't keep her eyes off that golden faceplate for a moment and when she does finally look up to meet the champion's eyes, he's got a knowing look written all over his face. Houston smiles. ~

Houston: It has a nice glow to it, doesn't it? So, you think I got lucky, Kitty? You won your match by an inch. I managed to pin the great Mack O'Connor two out of three times. Continue to eye this title. It's the closest you're ever going to get to it. And after Social Justice, you'll fade back into the dark abyss of OCW space.

~ She shakes her head and waves her hand dismissively, pressing the bar on the door behind her back. It eases open slightly as she speaks to cover up the sound. ~

Petrova: Oh sweetie, you've got a terrible poker face and you're about as unconvincing as good ol' "420" Bob Grenier when he sounds off about being a pillar of the business. Making idle threats is pathetic and sad. You don't want me to feel sorry for you, do you? I mean, here I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt that we were going to have a nice, competitive, INTELLIGENT match. I was trying to build you up, Buttercup. Starting to think the only "dark abyss" is that void between your ears.

~ She smirks, waiting to see if he tries to come at her for the insult. When he shifts his weight slightly, she slips out the door, letting it bang shut behind her and leaving the champion alone. Ed Houston jumps in surprise as the door closes. The surprised look subsides and gives way to noticeable confusion as he stares at where Kitty was just seconds ago. His fist is still slightly cocked. ~

Houston: What the heck? She was just here.

~ He motions to the now empty space next to him then he turns back to the closed door. The camera focuses on his furrowed brow for a minute before cutting away. ~

Smith: Ed's got a tough task ahead of him. He's never faced anyone like Kitty Petrova

Hood: Is it weird to say that she kinda turns me on?

Smith: Weird? No. Unprofessional? yes.

Hood: Well, in any event, she's way better than Alice Knight

Smith: YOU WATCH YOUR MOUTH

~Smith clears his throat and finds composure~

Smith: Well, folks...it's time for the second first round match of the Mike Roth Memorial...let's head down to ringside!

Mike Roth Invitational
Singles Match
Hellraven (7-5) vs. Shootah (0-3)

~The Social Justice promo is airing for the live audience only. They are intrigued, watching the incredibly hilarious cut up done by some super intellectual man with a ravenous wit. It ends and they are all disappointed…UNTIL, Belvedere clears his throat. They turn and cheer, knowing that some in-ring action is on the proverbial horizon~

Belvedere: The following match is another first round match in the Mike Roth Memorial Tournament and is scheduled for one fall!

Fans: ONE FALL!!!

Belvedere: Coming to the ring first...

~The lights go out and the arena is bathed in darkness. Suddenly, the big screen lights up with a large, purple V. followed by a large I. then a P.! The fans are buzzing at this when "Shadow Boxing" by Parkway Drive starts playing and the fans absolutely lose their shit!~

Hood: No fucking way!!!

Smith: It couldn't be!!

~The lights come back on and we SHOOTAH walking out from behind the curtain. The fans begin to boo as Shootah makes his way to the ring.~

Belvedere: Coming to the ring.... Shootah!

Hood: Hah! Shootah played us good. I'll admit that was a good prank.

Smith: I'm actually getting word that Shootah went to the sound crew and begged to have an actual entrance with music and everything. Apparently our sound truck just recycled an old entrance instead of making a new one.

~Shootah gets to the ring and he his beaming. Maybe he finally feels like a real competitor instead of just an "enhancement talent.”~

Belvedere: And his opponent...

~The sounds of a thunderstorm echo across the arena speakers as purplish-blue spotlights come to life near the entrance ramp. At their centre, head down, arms folded, is a tall and slender figure, their long hair falling forward onto their face and partially obscuring it.~

~The figure remains in this position until a moment later, when the rainstorm transitions into the iconic opening guitar lead to Slayer's 'Raining Blood'. At the same time as this transition occurs, the blue spotlights go out, leaving the house lights to illuminate what is now clearly seen to be a young woman.

~As the riff begins, she uncrosses her arms, holding them out to each side in a double show of the metal horns as she indulges in a spot of headbanging~

~Then, as the legendary lead gives way to mid-tempo riffing, the girl makes her way down the ramp, keeping her focus on the ring but not neglecting the occasional outstretched hand in her path. Once at ringside, she scales the steel steps and lets herself in through the middle rope. From there, she makes her way across the mat to the furthest turnbuckle and slumps down into a seated position, her arms resting on her knees~

Belvedere: From Tokyo, Japan…standing 5’7 and weighing in at 130lbs…Hellraven!!!

~Belvedere exits the ring as Scruff goes to check Hellraven. She watches as Scruff walks over and checks Shootah. Scruff is satisfied with the competitors and calls for the bell to start the match. Shootah is pandering to the fans. Perhaps the theme music and entrance has gone to his head but he is acting like a big deal. Shootah turns away from the fans to face Hellraven, only to be later out with a discus lariat!!~

Smith: Quoth The Raven!!

Hood: See ya Shootah. It was good to see ya.

~Shootah drops to the mat and Hellraven quickly covers him and Scruff makes the count.~

One......

Two........

THREE!!

~The bell rings and Hellraven gets to her feet. She let's Scruff raise her hand as the fans cheer.~

Smith: And as quick as the match started, it's over just as fast.

Hood: Did you expect Shootah to really put up a fight?

Belvedere: Here is your winner….HELLRAVEN!!!!!

Smith: Wow! Dominating win by Hellraven

Hood: First time we’ve seen her since Death March, right?

Smith: Indeed…she’s getting better and better…2019 could be a breakthrough year for the youngster.

Hood: This year’s Ed Houston!

Smith: It could happen…and it could all start with the Mike Roth Invitational. Two more wins and she’ll challenge for the Craze Championship

Hood: Who does she face next...we got some updated Brackets?

Smith: We sure do!

Hood: HEY! What's with the different font face?

Smith: I have no idea

Hood: Are you telling me the nimrods backstage didn't keep a record of the original font style and had to go with some different face?

Smith: I don't know...maybe?

Hood: Ugh...Classic OCW, baby

~The crowd in Key West is beginning to prepare for the main event and the ring appears to be ready for it as the referee for the Veronica-Dazi match is already in there.~

Belvedere: THIS MAIN EVENT CONTEST IS SCHEDULED FOR ONE FALL…

Voice: HELL NO!!! NOT NOW!

~Suddenly, a bunch of stagehands come bursting out of the curtains with two high chairs in hand, running down the ramp. Chelsea LeClair suddenly comes through the curtains with a microphone in hand~

Chelsea: You are NOT going to have this “main event” until I say what I have to say. Rule number one, when it comes to wrestling television, I’m ALWAYS the main event.

~The crowd boos Chelsea as she begins to walk down the ramp while the stagehands set up the two chairs inside of the ring~

Chelsea: And you beer drinking rednecks have the PRIVILEGE of seeing the on-screen debut of CHELSEA TV… because unlike that Handler bitch… I’M Chelsea Lately! So… put down your beer, put away the fantasies you have of being with me and enjoy the show. Referee, get out of my ring. You’re not having this fake main event right now.

~Chelsea pauses as she steps into the ring and walks to stand in between two chairs~

Chelsea: I want to say that the OCW Savage Championship is a DISGRACE to professional wrestling! Hardcore wrestling is TRASH and I can’t stand that you people in this building stand for this crap. Hardcore wrestling is something that needs to be BANNED by federal law. Don’t you ingrates realize the concussion spike that is associated with hardcore wrestling? Don’t you monsters realize that you can bankrupt your favorite wrestling company by increasing the medical expenses they have to cover? I bet that’s why OCW has gone on a ton of hiatuses, am I right? And worst of all… hardcore wrestling DESTROYS any semblance of anyone having a high quality of living so you people that support this crap… you should all be ashamed of yourselves because you are the degradation of America and I’m here to build a barbwire wall around hardcore wrestling… maybe YOU IDIOTS pay for it and MAKE PURE WRESTLING GREAT AGAIN!!!!

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

Chelsea: Thank you, you’re all too kind. My mission is to win the Savage Championship and END hardcore wrestling as we know it and I am going to rename that title the OCW CHELSEA CHAMPIONSHIP, BITCHES! ANYWAY...now that I got that PSA out of the way… you will be seeing me in action again very soon but tonight… is a Chelsea TV RARITY… a night where… I actually have a guest and there are very few people privileged to share the stage with but one person that is… you know her very, very well but nobody knows her more than ME! You love her… more than you love me as much as I hate to admit it… and she just overcame hardcore wrestling TRASH to become the OCW Craze Champion… ladies and gentlemen… my best friend… ANDREA HERNANDEZ!

~The crowd cheers wildly as “Ultranumb” by Blue Stahli hits and Andrea Hernandez comes out with the OCW Craze Championship slung over her shoulder. She seems to be in quite a good mood as she enters the ring, grabbing a microphone along the way. Chelsea offers a hug as Andrea walks in the ring, but Andrea rolls her eyes and sits down, quietly dissing her. Andrea’s music fades as Chelsea sits down across from her~

Chelsea: Way to greet your lifelong best friend, Andi! Oh wait, you haven’t told these people that we used to be tag team partners! That we were tag team CHAMPIONS! You have your little open book tour but you leave that part out. Why? Are you embarrassed by me?

Andrea: Is this what you brought me out here for?

Chelsea: No no… I’m just curious.

Andrea: Chelsea… I’m not embarrassed by you. It’s just… I didn’t think you would come to OCW. But why did you bring me out here? So you can make yourself famous off of my name?

Chelsea: It has nothing to do with that. Andi, you know I love you. We’ve known each other for like… 25 years… thereabout. I want to ask you about… what you just won. Last week on Throwback, you beat Bester Fruend in that… weird ass toy box match… to become the new Craze Champion! Are you ashamed of yourself for winning it in such a TRASH HARDCORE MATCH?

Andrea: Honestly, I was more ashamed of ever having to carry you in Sedona Sky.

Crowd: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!

Chelsea: Okay… okay okay okay… fine… you’re lucky you’re my best friend.

Andrea: Look, if you want to disrespect what I did last week, I will kindly walk out of here because I’m not going to deal with that from ANYONE… not even you. Because week after week following Death March… I had to hear Bester disrespect me, mock me, blame me for Death March and despite his so-called “hero status”, he tried to make me out to be the most useless wrestler in OCW history and it felt so damn good to beat him in his own match, to take his title away from him, to make that title mine and to make him eat every single word he ever said about me. And really, I’m not in the mood to deal with it from you. So, you’re going to ask me some real questions or else I’m gone… or even better... I’ll get up off this chair and beat your ass!

Chelsea: Okay Andi… okay! It’s all about you! Like THAT’S never been the case. I do have a legit question for you though. After Serial Thrillers, and especially after Death March… you faded into the shadows, you went COMPLETELY brood on everyone and you acted like… I don’t know… the world was gonna end. Yet, now you’re the Craze champion and you’re acting like… well… you’re whole again. My question is… why so serious, Andi?

~Andrea sighs, but doesn’t get frustrated~

Andrea: I admit that after Serial Thrillers, my behavior went awry. I even blamed my inner child for “being so weak” and I shouldn’t have. I didn’t behave the way a true champion should have. I took what happened at Serial Thrillers very personally and I know I made some mistakes along the way and even disappeared for a while after Death March. I was ready to hate the entire world and then… I won this…

~Andrea raises her Craze Championship in the air to a nice pop from the crowd~

Andrea: I saw what Bester was becoming and it was like a flash right in the eyes for me. Seeing how he was acting? Seeing how he was taking Death March? He took that WORSE than I ever took Serial Thrillers and the night before the match… I had a moment of clarity. I looked at him and I saw a wrestler I was slowly becoming… but a wrestler I REALLY didn’t want to be so facing him? It was like facing the worst of me and it gave me this new perspective that really… life isn’t so bad after all.

Chelsea: Well… you know your title reign isn’t going to last for eternity so… I’ll remember everything you just said when you lose that title and see if you really mean what you say. So that’s it then? No more broody Andrea? No more miserable bitch? Is that what you’re saying?

Andrea: That’s exactly what I’m saying!

~The crowd delivers a loud cheer for this~

Andrea: I need to be the respectful champion I hadn’t been acting like since Serial Thrillers. BUT… I want the entire company to know this. I’m NOT going to be a pushover. Inside that ring, nothing changes. I’m not going to sit back and do what most of my generation does in OCW… which is stand in awe of the legends and the Hall of Famers and admire them like starstruck children. No. I’m going to face them, I’m going to beat them, and I’m going to be better than them. I’m not the wrestler that’s just happy to be here, Chelsea. You know that, more than anyone. So… for those out there calling me the next Alice Knight… for those calling me the next MJ Bell… scratch all that. I’m the first Andrea Hernandez and someday, you’re not only going to see me up there with those two women, you’re going to see me as BEYOND those two women!

Chelsea: You’re so full of yourself, you know that? But… hey… you do you! I just have one last question. Wanna reunite? You know… now that Miss Broodypants has left the building… you and I can have fun again, just like old times! We can eliminate hardcore wrestling, destroy the fabric of everything OCW is all about and cripple all the legends! You know you have that darkness in you Andi… and you and I together… we can make that happen! We can RULE OCW! You know and I know that this company is filled with pure evil! It’s filled with the Greniers and the Vargases of the world that are bitter old men that want to hang on to their spots for too long. You and me… we can put them in their places.

~Chelsea stands up and extends her hand to Andrea. Andrea stands up and reaches for her hand and then pulls it back~

Andrea: Yeah… no…

~Andrea drops her microphone and turns around, but the moment she does that, Chelsea runs up to her and knocks her down with a forearm to the back of the head~

Chelsea: FINE!!! Then I’m just going to have to cripple YOU… BITCH!!!!

~Chelsea drags Andrea up to her feet and throws her across the ring. She drops the Craze championship in the process and Chelsea is quick to pick it up. Andrea stands up and Chelsea takes a swing, but Andrea ducks underneath the belt. Chelsea turns around right into a kick to the gut followed by a swinging neckbreaker, laying Chelsea out on the mat. The crowd goes nuts for this comeback as Andrea picks up her title. Chelsea stands up and Andrea chases after her with the belt, but Chelsea is quick to scurry out of the ring to boos from the crowd. Chelsea holds her neck as she backs up the ramp looking pissed off. Andrea picks up the microphone for some final words~

Andrea: See what happens when you disrespect me now?

~Andrea shoves down both chairs as she watches Chelsea back up the ramp and through the curtains frustrated about her show being ruined~

Andrea: And the rest of OCW better get that message loud and clear!

~Andrea tosses aside the microphone and her music plays again as the crowd cheers loudly for her. She raises the Craze title one last time before she exits~

Smith: Andrea is showing some fight! I like it!

Hood: Some friend she is!

Smith: Hey, she wants to carve out her own path. Create her own legacy. Nothing wrong with that

Hood: Man she'd better be careful. A scorned friend makes for a really nasty enemy

Smith: Well, that is true.

~Greg sits in the co-inhabited GM office behind Zybala's desk, filing his nails. Across from him sits Mack O'Connor and Treat Cassidy. It seems they are already mid-conversation~

Cassidy: So you understand? Due to the TransAtlantic Title being considered a non-qualifier, we think its only fair that Mack gets put on a streamlined path to achieve his goal. And Zybala is being so unreasonable about the whole thing.

Mack: It's more than fair.

~Greg doesn't respond for a moment, continuing to file his nails. Mack and Cassidy shift uncomfortably, until finally Greg looks up at them~

Greg: I suppose I can see what I can do. I can't make any promises, but let me look through everything and see if we can slip you in the running somewhere for a Craze Title shot.

Cassidy: That's so kind of you, Greg. You seem to be a really generous man.

Greg: Oh, I am. You should ask Mack about that sometime.

~Mack's shifts uncomfortably again as Cassidy glances over at him~

Cassidy: Is that right?

~Greg giggles slightly, leaning back into his chair and filing his nails again~

Greg: Mm hmm... Now if you boys wouldn't mind, I have some more work to do. Shoo, now.

~Greg waves them off as if they were flies. Cassidy and Mack both nod and exit the office. They walk down the hallway, and Cassidy looks over at Mack~

Cassidy: Should I ask?

Mack: The man massaged my hands once. That's it.

Cassidy: Mack...

Mack: That was it! Okay?!

~Mack storms off fuming. Cassidy chuckles for a moment before following~

Smith: Hmm...Treat attempting to circumvent our GM

Hood: That's how you get shit done, Smith

Smith: I can't imagine Andrea is a fan of this brewing situation

Hood: I so hope this happens

Smith: Yea, you would...Greg can do what he pleases but the final decision will be Zybala's. Mack is going to have to pay his dues if he wants a shot at Andrea's belt.

Hood: The guy has already paid his dues...like ten times over!

Smith: Have you SEEN the roster? This isn't 2014...this isn't 2015...this isn't even mid 2018...this roster is STACKED. If he wants a shot at a title, he's got to earn it.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

Smith: Solid comeback. Anyway, fans...it's time for our Main Event! Two weeks ago Veronica Taylor attacked Dazi backstage before her match. This cost Dazi a chance at competing on Massacre as well as a potential slot in the Paradigm Contenders match which took place at Throwback. Dazi was, obviously, not happy. Tonight, she gets a shot at revenge. Let's head down to ringside

Grudge Match
Veronica Taylor (2-1) vs. Dazi Miyashita (1-0)

~The fans are primed for some main event action!! It’s been a fun filled in-ring night thus far…not too heavy, not too light. These fans are just right! Belvedere clears his throat…a CLEAR indicator that things are about to get real…really real. The crowd pops~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!! This match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~"Of Angles" by The Cruxsahdows hits the pa. You see her manager, Carlton coming out in face paint and an all-black suit on. He has a Singapore cane in hand, pointing it at the entrance as Dazi come out. She stares at the crowd, turning to see all the faces and then turns to Carlton. He gives a nod and the pair march down to the ring. There are no theatrics when Carlos gets in the ring. Dazi, however, stares out at the crowd before doing her signature splits, ducking under the rope and then turning to the ramp. She glares at her opponent on her knees with that wicked grin on her face, Carlton behind her with the Singapore cane in his hands~

Belvedere: From New York City, standing 5’4 and weighing in at 121lbs…being accompanied to the ring by Carlton Walsh….Dazi Miyashita!!!

Smith: First time we’ve seen Dazi inside an OCW ring in nearly three weeks.

Hood: Yea, Veronica Taylor is, apparently, not a fan

Smith: She attacked Dazi two weeks ago before Miyashita had an opportunity to compete in her second OCW match. Tonight, Dazi seeks revenge

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

~Turn my Swag on by Keri Hilison hits over the pa system as the lights begin to flash all over the arena, as the fans give a loud ovation of booing. As, a makeshift runway appears, and soon a red carpet is rolled on top of it. As, out from the back steps Veronica Taylor with outstretched arms as the fans boo her, before grabbing her mirror and blowing herself a kiss. After, a few moments she begins to do a model like strut on the red carpet runway as a few photographers appear to take her photos, as she poses arrogantly. She, then takes a look around her grabbing her perfume from Veronica's Secret and sprays it around to get rid of the "stench" in the arena~

~Veronica then stands at the end of the entrance ramp, doing some more poses. Before, raising her arms in the air as the fans fill the air with more boos. Before, she mouths to the camera "So damn first class baby", before blowing a kiss to the camera. As, she then moves to the ring apron, yelling at the referee to lower the ropes for her, which he does as Veronica enters under the bottom rope. As, she then stands in the center of the ring raising her arms in the air, before lowering them slowly. Then, she grabs out her perfume and sprays it all around killing the stench in the ring. As, Veronica then takes off her diamond necklace and hangs it on the corner, as she grabs her compact mirror and makes sure her makeup is done flawlessly. As she fluffs her hair, and blows herself a kiss~

Belvedere: From Beverly Hills, California…standing 5’8 and weighing in at 122lbs…Veronica Taylor!!!

Smith: Taylor is all about Taylor. She may be the most arrogant competitor in OCW

Hood: You think we should make an award for Most Arrogant?

Smith: I don’t think that award would ever lack in competition

Hood: It might even bring TGO back! The one award he truly deserves

Smith: Yea, sure…Veronica may be arrogant, but she’s also dangerous. We all saw that when she attempted to put Dazi on the shelf two weeks ago. Unfortunately for Taylor, Dazi is back and she’s focused.

~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~

Smith: And off we go! Who do you have, Hood?

Hood: Taylor…she’s got the attitude, the confidence, the ego…all requisites to being a star

Smith: Yea, but Dazi is focused…and, she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. I think we might see an unshackled Dazi Miyashita tonight!

~Dazi heads toward the middle of the ring, ready to go. Taylor takes a few steps forward but pauses. She poses for the crowd. They boo. Dazi stands upright, relaxing her fighting stance. It’s clear she’s annoyed by Taylor’s antics. Veronica ceases her posing and returns her focus to Dazi. The two circle one another, preparing to lock up. They coil and...Taylor dodges Dazi! Veronica flips her hair back and does another pose. The boos are even louder this time~

Smith: Oh come on! You’re in there to fight so, fight!

Hood: Hey! She’s a model slash wrestler, Smith. She’s simply giving us a nice glimpse of what we can expect when her summer catalog comes out

Smith: I don’t care about her summer catalog

Hood: Wow…let me make a note here. Smith…does…not…find…women…attractive…got it!

Smith: That’s not what I said!

~Taylor ceases her pausing. An increasingly frustrated Dazi motions with her hands as if to say, “Are you ready, now?” Veronica places her index finger at the tip of her chin and contemplates the question. She removes her finger from her chin and displays the ‘one second’ gesture to Dazi. She begins to form a third pose. The crowd BOOOOS. Dazi’s had enough. She rushes forward and clobbers Veronica in the side of the head!! Taylor stumbles toward the ropes, falling through them and onto the apron. Dazi takes off, hitting the ropes…Veronica gets to her feet, stunned. Dazi bounces off the ropes, charges at Taylor and leaps into the air with a dropkick!!! Taylor flies off the apron and SLAMS into the barricade outside!! The fans go wild!! We get a ‘DAZI’ chant~

Smith: There we go!! Dazi is full of fire and ready to go!

Hood: Attack the model mid-pose…that’s so wrong!

Smith: Somebody forgot to inform Veronica that this is NOT a modeling competition

Hood: Life is a modeling competition, Smith

~Dazi hops through the ropes, landing on her feet outside. Taylor is leaning against the barricade, stunned. Dazi rushes up and lifts a knee into Taylor’s face!!! Taylor immediately reaches for her nose. She turns and hurries off, trying to protect her moneymaker. Dazi gives chase. She catches up to Taylor, snaring the beauty by her hair. She spins Taylor around and throws her into the steel steps!!! Taylor hits hard! Scruff hops through the ropes and chastises Dazi for her offense~

Smith: Scruff attempting to maintain order.

Hood: Maxim is going to be pissed of Dazi fucks Taylor up. I heard Veronica is set to be named the sexiest woman of the year.

Smith: I hadn’t heard that rumor

Hood: It’s not a rumor, Smith! It’s a fact!

~Dazi ignores Scruff, going back after Taylor. She yanks Taylor away from the steps, pulling her to her feet. She whips Taylor into the post! Veronica manages to prevent her face from hitting the post, but her shoulder SLAMS into the unforgiving steel. She flails atop the stairs before rolling, painfully down each step, back to the floor. Scruff motions for the bell. This gets Dazi’s attention. Dazi argues with Scruff, citing the damage Taylor did to her a few weeks earlier. Scruff, though, isn’t budging…he’s enforcing the rules~

Smith: Scruff doing his job – for once

Hood: I think he just really wants to see those Veronica Taylor Maxim photos

Smith: So you think he’s protecting Taylor?

Hood: Yea…well, on second thought…I doubt he can afford a Maxim magazine

~Miyashita grunts in frustration, heading back over to Taylor. She yanks Taylor up and hoists her into the air for a bodyslam. She aims for the steel steps. Scruff yells “NO!” and points toward the bell, ready to call for it if Dazi follows through. Miyashita measures the cost against the satisfaction. While doing so, Taylor slips from behind and delivers a front dropkick into Dazi’s back!!! Dazi flies forward, her knees slamming into the steps while her head PINGS against the ring post!! The crowd BOOS heavily! Taylor stumbles back, the barricade catching her from falling. Scruff looks around, stunned and, perhaps feeling a bit guilty~

Smith: Is he not going to call for the bell?

Hood: No way. I’m telling you…he’s on Team Taylor

Smith: This isn’t fair!

~Taylor fixes her posture and heads toward Dazi. Scruff shakes his head, feeling somewhat responsible for what’s taken place. Taylor yanks Dazi off the steps and throws her into the ring. Dazi’s body rolls into the center of the ring. She’s on her back, prone. Taylor hops onto the apron…she jumps up, springboards off the top rope and drops a Guillotine Leg Drop across the neck of Dazi!!! She goes for the pin! Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Dazi kicked out!

Hood: Count faster, Scruff!

Smith: It was a fair count, Hood

Hood: Not if you’re objective is to put Veronica over!

~Taylor screams and gets into Scruff’s face! Scruff backs up, into a corner with eyes that seem to say, “Holy shit, this bitch is crazy.” Taylor turns around in a huff. Dazi is trying to get to her feet. Taylor reaches for her, but Dazi rolls her over into a Small Package! Dazi doesn’t hold on for the pin, though, instead she takes side mount and begins to poke, pull, and scratch at Taylor’s face!! Taylor screams out in horror, kicking her legs. Scruff rushes over, counting and pulling Dazi away~

Smith: Dazi is unhinged!

Hood: Man, some serious Stockholm syndrome going on with Scruff. The more Taylor shits on him the more he fawns over her

~He gets Dazi off of Vero. Dazi throws an elbow, nailing Scruff in the head! Scruff falls to the mat, holding his face. The elbow appears to have been inadvertent. Dazi stumbles to her feet and takes a second to look back at the downed ref. Taylor reaches her feet, runs over and rakes Dazi across the eyes!! She lifts a knee into Dazi’s chest!! Dazi flies back into the corner. Vero throws a stiff roundhouse kick into Dazi’s ribs. Dazi leans forward…Vero grabs her by the head, lifts her up and drops her with the Uggo Remover!!! Dazi is down!!! Vero heads over to wake Scruff~

Smith: Scruff needs to get up for Veronica Taylor to have a chance at scoring the pin!

Hood: He should just DQ Dazi!

Smith: Well, that would be an option

~She finally gets Scruff to her feet only to find that Dazi is already returning to her feet. A frustrated Vero pie faces Scruff away, perhaps desiring to get his likely dirty façade away from her opulent aesthetic…she heads over toward Dazi, throwing a kick. Dazi catches her leg and yanks her in close. Dazi drops the leg and hooks both of Vero’s arms…she begins to deliver head butt after head butt into Vero’s upper chest/lower neck. Vero’s motions slow. Dazi spins Vero around, hooks her arms into a straitjacket, lifts Vero up and drops her with a Straight Jacket Suplex!!! The fans are back on their feet cheering for Miyashita~

Smith: Dazi’s got Vero down! This could be it!

Hood: At least she had the human decency to avoid the face while delivering those head butts

Smith: If you say so

~Dazi is on her feet, foregoing a bridge into a pin. She heads over toward Walsh, looking for the Singapore Cane. Walsh, this time, does not hesitate. He hands it over. Dazi turns around with the cane in her hands. Scruff gets in her way yelling “NO!” Dazi tries to fight past Scruff to get to Vero, who is on one knee, dazed~

Smith: Dazi going for that Singapore cane!

Hood: She’s crazy!

Smith: She’s not crazy, she’s out for revenge, Hood

Hood: So I guess she’d rather injure Veronica than win?

Smith: Maybe

~Veronica returns to her feet. Dazi finally fights through Scruff only to receive a flying CLAYMORE kick into the face!! Dazi hits the mat hard!! The cane drops to the mat. Veronica hustles over, going for the pin. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Dazi kicked out! She’s still alive!

Hood: If she’d quit trying to break the fucking rules she might win this thing

Smith: Well, I can’t argue that

Hood: That’s IF Scruff would allow her to defeat his crush, Veronica Taylor

~Vero is flustered. Her frustration mounts with the ‘slow’ counts. She looks at Scruff and screams. Scruff just sorta backs away. Vero returns to her feet and runs her hands through her beautifully conditioned hair. Her eyes located – the Singapore cane. She heads for it~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Turnabout is fair play, Dazi

Smith: How’s that?

Hood: She brought it into the match…it would be apropos if it were used against her

~Taylor snares the Singapore cane and tosses a few surreptitious looks over each shoulder. Dazi returns to her feet, shaken (BUT NOT STIRRED). Taylor’s back is facing Dazi. Miyashita heads toward Vero and reaches out. Vero feels Dazi’s hand on her back and spins around. As she does, Dazi spins around and nails Vero with HARDCORE PUNISHMENT (Roundhouse Kick)!!! She kicks the cane right into Vero’s face!!!! Taylor falls to the mat, dropping the cane. Scruff stands upright, staring at the cane for a second. He’s at a moral impasse. He looks at the cane…he looks at the pin…he looks at the ring bell…he finally says ‘fuck it’ and drops to his knees, making the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner…DAZI MIYASHITA!!!!!

Smith: Dazi wins!

Hood: She fucking cheated and Scruff let it slide!! Damnit, Scruff…just because a woman doesn’t want to fuck you doesn’t give you the license to fuck her over!

Smith: What was he supposed to do? Veronica was going to use the cane. It was HER fault that it came into play

Hood: NO! It was Dazi’s fault the fucking thing was in there to begin with!

Smith: I think he made the right call

Hood: No surprise there!

~Dazi takes a moment to realize and soak in the win before turning her attention to the Singapore cane. Vero is still on the mat, holding her face. Dazi heads for the cane~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: Of course…winning isn’t enough…let’s ruin the woman’s face while we’re at it!

~Dazi snares the cane and heads toward Vero…however, Scruff gets in the way! The crowd boos. Scruff doesn’t flinch…doing his job to protect the competitors both before and after the match. Vero rolls out of the ring, to the floor. The booing only increases. She looks up, spotting Dazi with the cane and yells some mean insults at Dazi. Dazi threatens to go after her with the cane…Vero hustles around the ringside area before heading up the ramp. Dazi remains in the ring with the cane in her hand. Walsh slides into the ring. He grabs Dazi’s arm and raises it in triumph…the fans respond with a loud ovation~

Smith: Tremendous win for Dazi Miyashita. She got revenge for Veronica’s attack two weeks ago…however, I get the feeling she might want more.

Hood: Ya think? That woman is a fucking bloodlust. She wants to tear Veronica apart.

Smith: Dazi has all the makings for a Savage Title contender. That’s just the way her mind works.

Hood: That’s fine…put her in there with Langston. Give her Iggy Hardy. But keep her the hell away from my Veronica!

Smith: YOUR VERONICA?

Hood: Err, um…The PEOPLE’S Veronica!

Smith: I don’t know about that, Hood. Well fans it's been a great night of action...but we've got one big announcement left

Hood: Tag Titles, baybay!

Smith: Indeed...before we crown new Tag Team Champions...let's cut to an exciting vignette which is a follow up to what we saw air at Throwback!

~The Massacre feed jolts to black. So too does the big screen inside the arena. Suddenly, the legendary voice of Tyler Durden from FIGHT CLUB rings out in its methodic drone inside a megaphone:

“You are not special. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.”

The darkness is replaced by newsreel scenes as the voice repeats itself:

US border patrol agents teargassing crowds of immigrants trying to cross into the US.

“You are not special. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.”

Women’s March participants marching on Washington.

Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump shaking hands in several different settings.

The California forest fires raging.

~The drone becomes louder~

“YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL. YOU ARE NOT A BEAUTIFUL AND UNIQUE SNOWFLAKE.”

Sarah Huckabee Sanders furiously repeating rhetoric to reporters.

Body cam footage of Eric Garner telling police “I can’t breathe” followed by protestors rallying in the streets.

Trump stepping off Air Force One at Mar-a-Lago again…and again…and again.

“YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL. YOU ARE NOT A BEAUTIFUL AND UNIQUE SNOWFLAKE.”

~The screen cuts back to black with a sudden stop. The wind begins to howl and the same windchime we heard at Throwback begins to sound as a single wispy flake of snow careens down the screen. It is followed by two, then three, then too many to count. Atop the snow, the words are handwritten in a deep blue over the white:

~The rapidly-falling snow steadily overtakes the screen, and we are suddenly shot back to darkness as Massacre returns.~

Smith: Another chilling message like the one we saw at Throwback. What do you think, Hood?

Hood: You are not special, Smith. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake.

Smith: Thanks, partner. Moving along…it's time we find out who will be named the NEW Tag Team Champions...let's head down to ringside!

~We cut to ringside where Jones stands, mic in hand. He looks totally excited. Mike Zybala is next to Jones with the tag titles…one over each shoulder. Zybala nods to Jones, giving him permission to commence~

Jones: Ladies and Gentlemen, it’s now time to name the NEW OCW Tag Team Champions! I’d like to start off by thanking Zybala for giving me this amazing opportunity. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything meaningful placed in my hands. I can assure you, Mr. Zybala that I will not let you down.

~Zybala nods, giving Jones a thumbs up~

Jones: At Throwback you all witnessed six team take part in three matches. It was an evaluation of sorts. A chance for OCW to sit back and measure the talent and cohesion of each team before naming the new champions. Now, obviously, one of those teams immediately removed themselves from consideration…

~The crowd boos. We see a few fans break silver crayons in half, throwing them away. They are VICIOUSLY angry at Cyanide over his actions~

Jones: Yes, a vile act indeed. As much as we all love Mario we simply cannot give the titles to one man…so, High Impact Express were instantly eliminated.

~Zybala gives a somber nod~

Jones: It was at that point when GM Zybala started to really evaluate the teams, post-performance. Being a fair man…a man who once excelled inside this very ring…Mike Zybala realized it would be silly to give these titles to teams who failed to win their match at Throwback. So, that eliminated the teams of CJ and Canon along with Alice and Roach.

~A bunch of HOOTING sounds out. Fans flap their ‘wings’ and chant for “OWL! IS! NIGHT!” Jones laughs and does a halfhearted ‘flap’. Zybala pats him on the shoulder and urges him to get serious. Jones feels instant shame over being told by Zybala to get serious. But, he does~

Jones: So that left three teams. The team of Grenier and Vargas. The team of Lurrr and PerZag. And, the team of Bifford and Ehud.

~The crowd tries to cast their vocal vote. Fans yell “LURRR!” Some yell “VARGAS!” We hear a very old, faint “EHUD!” A guy wearing a Dangerous Dan shirt yells “ANYBODY BUT BIFFORD!” Jones hears this guy…well, sorta~

Jones: Bifford, eh? You’d like to see Bifford as tag team champion?

~The fan’s eyes grow wide. He rushes toward the barricade yelling “I SAID ANYONE BUT BIFFORD!” Jones laughs, unable to hear the fan due to all the other people in attendance growing louder, hoping they’ll be singled out~

Jones: Haha, Bifford fans…gotta love them! GM Zybala…what do you say…should we give these titles to Bifford and Ehud?

~Zybala looks out into the crowd. The one fan is desperately trying to ‘change’ his plea. Zybala looks around…he holds his thumb sideways. He starts to turn it up before turning it down. The crowd is mixed on this decision~

Jones: It was deemed that Bifford and Ehud hadn’t done enough to warrant these titles. And, besides, it would be somewhat reckless to place these belts on two individuals who could die at any moment. So Bifford and Ehud were eliminated from consideration. This elimination left two teams…

~The fans go crazy! A “BOB!” chant starts…it is rivaled by a “ZAG!” chant…a “VARGAS” chant jumps into the fray…all three are eventually drowned out by a “LURRR!” chant. Jones looks around and mouths ‘wow’. He looks at Zybala who seems impressed~

Jones: It would seem as though we’ve narrowed this thing down to the two best teams. So…who do we go with? GM?

~Zybala takes the mic~

Mike Zybala: I’m no fan of handing titles over. I’ve always believed that titles should be won…earned inside the ring. However, given the circumstance behind these belts…the recent history of OCW’s prestigious tag team titles…this was the inevitable conclusion. So, I had to select a team truly worthy of these titles.

~The crowd pops at the word ‘worthy’~

Mike Zybala: Sorry for the pun there…I haven’t been around PerZag long enough to firmly associate Worthy with the man from Australia. But, as I was saying…I had to give these titles to a team that has truly earned them. A team comprised of two individuals who show up here week in and week out, giving this promotion the best they have to offer. Two men who sometimes go overlooked. Two men who BLEED OCW. Two men who would cherish these belts. Two men who epitomize what OCW is all about…I had to look back…look back to a year…look back to 2015…

~The crowd goes wild~

Mike Zybala: And, upon looking back…upon realizing how much these two men have done and continue to do for this federation, the decision became crystal clear. Ladies and Gentlemen…your NEW OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…BOB GRENIER AND CHAD VARGAS!!!!!

~The crowd erupts! It’s not as though Bob and Chad are great guys…it’s simply due to the fact these men deserve this achievement. Vargas and Grenier promptly emerge from behind the curtain and head down to the ring. They slide in, under the bottom rope. Zybala hands over the tag titles. Bob and Vargas take the belts and hold them up high before shaking hands. Both men are grinning ear to ear…they haven’t tasted gold in a long, long time~

Smith: Well deserved!

Hood: No shit man…these guys bust their ASS. When’s the last time either guy held a belt?

Smith: I don’t know…2015?

Hood: That’s a fucking crime against wrestling

~Vargas ascends one corner, holding his tag title high. Grenier finds the opposite corner, doing the same. Zybala clears his throat~

Mike Zybala: There is one more thing.

~The celebration hits the brakes – for a moment~

Mike Zybala: Given how close Lurrr and PerZag were to winning these titles…they have the option of facing you two for the tag titles at Social Justice.

~The crowd pops. Vargas shrugs and says “Bring those fuckers on!” Bob piles on with, “I’ll fuckin smoke those choads!” Zybala laughs and exits the ring, urging Jones alongside. The stage is set for Vargas and Grenier to celebrate~

Smith: Congratulations to Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas…you two truly deserve this honor

Hood: A-fucking men. And…holy sht…what a match that would be…Lurrr and Zag taking on Vargas and Grenier for the tag titles…damn!

Smith: That’s IF Lurrr and Zag accept. I can’t imagine Lurrr is too pleased about being passed over. He might have bigger sights set for Social Justice

Hood: Ah, I get what you’re throwing out there

Smith: I’m just saying…

Hood: Lurrr defending his Hall of Fame title against…

Smith: Hey! That’s so far from being anything more than a hypothetical…let’s not get these people’s hopes up. Let’s focus on what we know...Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas are the new Tag Team Champions and I have no doubt they will treat those belts with the respect they deserve.

Hood: You got that right

Smith: We hope you all enjoyed tonight’s show, fans. The road to Social Justice is well underway! Enjoy the rest of the week…for Hood, I’m Smith saying so long!

~We get one final shot of Vargas and Grenier clinking their titles together in a celebratory toast as we fade out~