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OCW Presents: Massacre
LIVE! February 13th 2023
FROM The OCW PROUD and STRONG Cruise Ship
On the Coast of Antarctica

We enter the second week of February. MID FEBRUARY, some might call it. Others might refer to it as the week when men are held at financial ransom by their significant other. Get them chocolate. Get them flowers. Get them a nice dinner. Get them diamonds. OR ELSE. But we here at OCW call it ILLUMINATUS SEASON and we’re midway, baby. Midway.

THE PROUD AND STRONG continues to divide the southernmost waters of this great globe while the talent aboard conquers the competition...and the booze. Antarctica draws closer.

Last week the PROUD AND STRONG, a cruise ship that makes all other pro wrestling cruise ships look like life preservers, barreled forward, surrounded by an endless blue seascape.

Now? Now the PROUD and STRONG has land in its sights. Antarctica, the destination, is straight ahead. The massive cruise ship containing the very best in the industry will dock and host its weekly event LIVE from the coast of Antarctica.

Meanwhile. THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS looms. Off in the horizon. A giant, ice, stone pyramid that will house the most brutal, epic, and treacherous of matches on the 26th awaits.

One event is down. One event is here. And one event remains.

The journey toward history. The journey toward Illumination. The GREAT ILLUMINATUS draws closer.

~It’s a frigid Antarctic night aboard the OCW PROUD AND STRONG but the faithful have once again braved the roughest of conditions to show their support for the single greatest wrestling organization in the history of our sport. The pool deck has been transformed with the wrestling ring affixed in the middle. The fans are bundled up in their winter coats, blankets, scarves, and most importantly… alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. The OCW drink package goes above and beyond to say the least. Regardless, whether it’s the alcohol, the anticipation for Massacre, or a combination of both, the rough and rowdy crowd is becoming increasingly vocal. Belvedere makes his way to the center of the ring as the fans begin to cheer. One particularly randy young woman exposes herself to him and asks him to sign her cleavage. He declines and grabs a microphone.~

Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen… welcome to Monday Night Massacre!

~They pop hard. Even if it’s the exact same way he opened last week’s show.~

Belvedere: It is my privilege to introduce to you… the OCW CHAMPION OF THE WORLD…

~He doesn’t have to finish. The crowd goes crazy. The amount of jumping up and down and sheer adulation cause the ship to rock more than usual and the party’s just getting started. “Raise Your Hands” by Bon Jovi cranks up through the speaker system and the faithful are lit. As the intro comes to a close, PIC pops up on the moon deck with the OCW world title affixed around his waist. He panders to the fans down below on either side as he sings along with his entrance music. He then hooks himself to a harness and repels down to the pool deck and into the center of the ring, ala Shawn Michaels at Wrestlemania if that exists in this universe. After landing on his feet, he releases himself from the harness and celebrates in the center of the ring as the crowd continues to pour out their support for the champ. PIC is all smiles as the music fades out. He stands in the ring taking it all in for a few moments before taking the microphone from Belvedere.~

Smith: The champ is here to kick off tonight’s extreme cold Massacre!

Hood: Soon-to-be ex-champ after TLS cashes in.

Smith: That remains to be seen, but you’re right. The potential of a cash in has loomed large over PIC’s head for well over a month now. His on again/off again friendship with TLS appears to be off again at least until the issue is resolved.

Hood: I’m no TLS fan by any means, but anything to get this idiot out of the spotlight.

~The crowd begins to die down as PIC speaks.~

PIC: Ladies and gentlemen, it truly is an honor to be out here tonight to speak in front of such dedicated fans such as yourselves. To take time out of your busy lives to join us on this cruise to Antarctica for an entire month is truly an incredible undertaking. So from the ring crew, to the front office, and most of the boys and girls in the back… thank you.

~The faithful cheer loudly as PIC smiles in the ring.~

Smith: We really do appreciate the sacrifices these fans have made to be with us this month.

Hood: Like any of these people had actual jobs to start with. It wouldn’t shock me if Leo just went out and found a bunch of homeless people to fill out the crowd.

Smith: Homeless or not, they certainly seem glad to be here.

Hood: An open bar will do that to a lot of people.

~PIC continues as the crowd dies down.~

PIC: Now, onto more pressing matters. You guys saw me last week in the casino nearly get accosted from behind by what most believe to have been TLS.

~A mixed reaction emanates from the crowd.~

PIC: You guys know my history with Tommy. We go back a long way and have had our ups and downs to say the least. After the Mix, I thought we’d put our differences aside and things were on the up and up. But I went on to win the world title and he sat there for months with his contract just waiting for the right opportunity to cash in. He thought it’d be Outcast, but now that I have the belt… well, let’s just say that’s where things get messy.

~PIC pauses as a large wave crashes against the boat causing the ring to shift slightly.~

PIC: So here I am, fresh off the heels of another amazing victory against Thunder Knuckles and well on my way to the run of a lifetime with this belt, but TLS continues to play his mind games. I’m here to tell you that they’re not working. You see, when you’ve known someone as long as I’ve known Tommy, there’s very little about their character and how they operate that you don’t already know. It would take a lot for him to surprise me at this point, so whether it’s in the casino, the bathroom, or out here in the middle of the ring in front of all of the OCW Faithful…

~Cheap pop.~

PIC: I’m willing to stand face to face and squash this issue for good. If Tommy wins, so be it. If I win, then at least he’ll know once and for all where he stands on the OCW food chain.

~The crowd claps as PIC takes another pause.~

Smith: Strong words for TLS from the champ there, Hood.

Hood: Blah, blah, blah. All this guy does is talk. If he wants to fight TLS then he should just call him out and fight him.

~PIC continues.~

PIC: As for the Illuminatus, my hand is almost 100% healed from the beating it took at Decadence. I’ll be ready to go, perched high atop that monstrosity as I await my opponent. Twenty men and women are entering with aspirations of knocking me off and taking this belt around my waist, but just like Outcast, Mason, Zybala, Bifford, TK, and even TLS… they’re going to find out the hard way that there is no taking this belt from me. I’ve been a champion in this company since July 31, nearly 200 days of being at the top of my game. That’s not going to change anytime soon. At Carpe Noctem, you can dig up the ghosts from OCW past, present, and future but it won’t change a thing. I am PIC. I am the OCW World Champion. I am The Great Illuminatus!

~PIC drops the mic to the roar of the crowd as “Raise Your Hands” once again kicks up over the speaker system. PIC drops out of the ring and smacks a few hands as he circles the ring and walks down the entrance ramp and out of sight.~

Smith: There he is, Hood. One of the greatest OCW Champions we've ever had.

Hood: Sounds like the beginning of an obituary.

Smith: Well, he's got a lot on his plate in a short amount of time. First, TLS and his eventual cash-in. And...THE ILLUMINATUS.

Hood: THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS

Smith: Yes, sorry. Our champion's head has to be spinning. If he could just eliminate one of those two issues I think things might get alot clearer for him.

Hood: Well, there's only one that can be eliminated before the 26th and, well...

Smith: Indeed. It might be time for the champion to get more aggressive when it comes to TLS. Stop waiting for TLS to make a move...maybe push the envelope a bit.

Hood: He did kick off the show with an impassioned promo. Perhaps he'll do just that...or maybe he looked in the mirror, saw his hair, felt cute and decided to cut a promo.

Smith: I wouldn't know. Regardless...we're off to a tremendous start, having heard from our champ! We've got four action packed matches coming your way folks...but first, let's head backstage!

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~In Columbus Ohio, seated at a desk with his defense lawyer Cornelius Cook, Bifford’s manager Kenny the Intern looked nervous. The courtroom was quiet, with people other than the two in question all intensely reading from documents. Cornelius leans over to Kenny and whispers:~

Cornelius: Pretty quiet around here.. where the hell is everyone?

Kenny: Well, the demon Bifford summoned as a child has taken his exwife and my aunt to live on a mysterious island.. Bifford is attempting to make his way to Antarctica without assistance other than the ghosts, Martin and his dad, who have gone with him. Earl is on the cruise ship with OCW trying to get coordinates to the pyramid and send them to Bifford. I’m in prison. You’re my lawyer. That’s the whole team, presently.

Cornelius: You people are always up to trouble, aren’t you?

~Kenny shrugs.~

Kenny: Why don’t they just throw me into jail? We’re going to lose.

Cornelius: We’re gonna win.. you see all those glasses on the jury?

Kenny: Yeah, they’re able to see… See right through your crazy defense.

~Cornelius gives Kenny a dirty look.~

Cornelius: I’ve got the perfect line ready, Kenny. I’ve been working on it for weeks.

~Kenny rolls his eyes as the scene switches back to Hood and Smith~

Smith: You have to feel for Kenny.

Hood: Why? He's a mass murderer! I hope he gets what he fuckin deserves.

Smith: No he's not! He's a patsy! Set up by Bifford and then given horrific legal representation!

Hood: Well, that's just your side of the story. Sounds a bit biased, if you ask me. And coming from a man who wears glasses? You should be ashamed of yourself. Turning against your own people.

Smith: This is insane. Let's cut to commercial.


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~We see Brooke Blakely walking backstage as she is approached by Who'Re~

Who'Re : Brooke you are getting ready to go out there and debut against Maria Caruso. How are you feeling?

~Brooke swipes her blonde hair behind her ear as she speaks softly.~

Brooke : I am nervous but confident. The Vilaro System has prepared me for this match. I am excited to show the OCW faithful what I can do.

~She flashes a huge smile as Who'Re continues~

Who'Re : We are in Antarctica. How will that play into your match?

~Brooke laughs lightly as she shakes her head.~

Brooke : Just means I need to make quick work of Maria so that I can warm up.

~Brooke's cellphone rings~

Brooke : That is my trainer, Marisol Vilaro. I need to take this.

~Brooke walks off talking on the phone before her match~

Smith: A quick look at Brooke Blakely.

Hood: I can confidently say that I like what I see.

Smith: Okay. Alright fans, Brooke's coming out now to face Maria Caruso...it's the debut of Brooke Blakely! The return of Maria Caruso...it's next!

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Singles Match
Maria Caruso (1-0) vs. Brooke Blakely (0-0)

~We’re outside on the deck of the PROUD AND STRONG where the ring for this week’s Massacre has been set up. Fans surround the ring...all dressed in their warmest PROUD AND STRONG gear. Hoodies, sweat pants, gloves, couple layers of socks and, of course, lots of shots of whiskey for internal heat. In the background looms ANTARCTICA. Belvedere’s voice booms out, waking all the creatures that surround~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for our opening contest! This match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…

~Queen by Loren Gray hits and Maria Caruso makes her way to the ring. She’s got her cellphone out, filming her entrance so that it can stream on some live platform. She’s obviously WAY better at this than the guy who’s typing her match. Caruso reaches the ring and walks around, too busy to pay attention to the fans or anything other than her live stream~

Belvedere: From Westfield, New Jersey...standing 5’6 and weighing in at 125lbs...she is the Social Media Influencer...she is...Maria Caruso!!!

~Fair amount of boos for the arrogance, aware or not, of Caruso~

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

~"Atta Girl" by Lainey Wilson hits! The fans give a slight POP as they see the attractive, eager, and excited Brooke Blakely exit the interior of the ship and hustle down to the ring...she high fives fans and actually acknowledges them, giving her the home crowd advantage over Caruso. She reaches the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope before springing to her feet~

Belvedere: From Houston, Texas...standing 5’2 and weighing in at 110lbs...Brooke Blakely!

~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~

Smith: Brooke Blakely making her debut against Maria Caruso...a woman so infatuated with her social media presence that she not only ignores all the fans but only cares to appear in the ring every other month.

Hood: Being a social media influencer isn’t easy, Smith. You know how hard it is to set up a live stream online?

Smith: Not THAT hard if twelve year olds are doing it.

Hood: You’re gonna pay for that remark!

~Blakely is ready to fight but Caruso continues to live stream. Brooke pauses, not sure how to approach or what the proper etiquette is in this situation. Caruso then looks at Brooke and starts to laugh, addressing her stream. Brooke gets the fairly certain vibe that Maria is mocking her on the stream. The fans start to boo~

Smith: Might want to put that phone down, Maria.

Hood: I bet that live stream is FIRE right now. She’s so talented.

Smith: It doesn’t take talent to talk about yourself online, Hood.

~Brooke is tired of waiting...she might be a rookie and maybe a bit timid, but she’s pretty sure she’s allowed to harm Caruso once that bell sounds. So she moves forward. Caruso continues to laugh and mock. Brooke then unleashes a spinning heel kick, smacking the phone out of Maria’s hand and into the crowd! The fans go wild! Maria is incensed. She charges at Brooke only for Brooke to dodge. Maria hits the ropes but holds on! Brooke charges in and Maria lifts her up and over the top rope! Brooke lands on the apron, atop her feet! Maria doesn’t care to notice...she marches toward the center of the ring, arms outstretched, head in the air...the fans boo her arrogance~

Smith: Uh, you might wanna turn around, Maria.

Hood: Man, too bad she doesn’t have her phone. THIS MOMENT would probably up her view count to, like, twenty million people.

~Maria finally turns around...Brooke flips over the top rope and BAM! She takes Maria down with a Buckshot Lariat (Primetime Elite)!!! Maria is on the mat, looped. Blakely doesn’t waste any time, kipping up and heading for the nearest corner. She leaps to the top buckle with tremendous ease, staring down at Maria, who hasn’t moved. Blakely leaps off and CONNECTS with an impressive 630 Splash (Frenzied Spirit)!!!! She makes the cover! Scruff slides in as the fans count along~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...BROOKE BLAKELY!!!!!

Smith: Brooke Blakeley with the impressive debut win!

Hood: Damn. She ruined Maria’s stream and it was all downhill from there.

Smith: As most streams tend to run.

Hood: DAD JOKE ALERT

Smith: Brooke Blakely with an impressive debut win. I’m hearing we’ll see her in next week’s battle royal!

Hood: That’ll be much tougher, no doubt.

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~We catch HARMON EGAN backstage from a voyeur handheld camera peek in. We hear the breath of him panting heavy, like some type of large animal laying in wait. The shot nearly approaches Harmon in an attacking posturing, then backs away as other staff and people come in and out of Harmon's presence. Short breaths turn into longer ones. Several times you can feel the heated frustration as people get in the way of making a statement less than two weeks away from Carpe Noctem II: The Great Illuminatus. We stay facing forward... the angered focus holding the camera tucks into the men's locker room. Brushing past jobber assholes, two hands slam the sink countertop. In the mirror, we see the camera dangle from the next of a psychotic looking Standard. Across the room, Steffin stans awaiting instructions~

St☠n _ "GOODDD DAMNITTTT! WHY DOES EVERYONE ADORE THIS ASSHOLE?!"

~Ferociously kicking in the hand-dryer on the wall next to him~

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~Collecting himself, just barely, on the verge of rage~

St☠n _ "SYNN FUCKED THIS UP! I NEVER WOULD TAP! I have to figure out a way... to grab Harmon's attention and make it burn deep within him to get revenge! To get back into the ring. I will right this wrong... at any cost..."

~Steffin sighs deeply. Stan shoves him again the tile wall. Steffin squeals in fear~

St☠n _ "HEYYY!!!!! WHO ASKED YOU?? You scrawny fuck- WWELL!? KEEP UP!!"

~Standard slams the camera down into pieces on the bathroom floor. Steffin's eyes follow, with a sense of dread consuming the last moments of the shot~

Smith: The Standard is furious and, well, I can't really blame him. That wasn't a tap last week.

Hood: Yea, another case of a wrestler wearing too much face paint. Couldn't see what was really going on.

Smith: I don't think SYNN's face paint had anything to do with it, Hood. She's clearly inexperience as a ref.

Hood: So, are you blaming WELSH for this?

Smith: I...I'm just saying it was unfortunate. Stan came so close to defeating Egan only to have an accidental error by an inexperienced special guest ref cost him. He wants another shot and, well, I think he probably deserves one.

Hood: Lots of opportunities coming up for the guy. He was named Newcomer of the Month for a reason. He's got a bright future.

Smith: Indeed...alright fans, let's take a quick commercial break and, when we return, more in-ring action!


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~Backstage, Jacki is seen sitting on some crates with her head down as a Halloween Pumpkin Candy bucket occupied her lap. After a few minutes went by, she noticed the camera on her and gave a half smile as she tried to wrap her head around what transpired in her title match against Dylan Thomas.

Jacki O'Lantern: Lantern Army, I'm sorry I was unable to bring the gold to us. Dylan is a very tough opponent, but as I said before at least I left with my pride. I think Dylan may have forgotten his. Anyway, I won't get discouraged. Losses happen. I'm sure I will receive another opportunity in the near future, and when I do, I'll be ready.

~She runs fingers through her hair and smiles, thinking about her own thoughts before continuing to speak.~

Jacki O'Lantern: Diana Watts, I don't know you personally, bud, but I do want to thank you for making a save for me out there after the match. No telling what Dylan would have done had you not been there. I hope to thank you in person one day, but for now, please accept this. What's on my agenda now? I feel like there are still unresolved issues with Steve Black that haven't been fully addressed. I'd like to address that soon, but other than that, expect to see me back in the ring soon enough as well. I am motivated more than ever. I want to showcase that.

~She winks and hops off the crates and walks away from the frame.~

Smith: Have to admire her spirit! She took a tough loss last week, didn't cry about it, and is now ready to come back and fight harder than ever.

Hood: It always bears repeating...but YOU NEVER LOSE UNTIL YOU QUIT. Don't quit. Keep fighting.

Smith: Yep and Jacki O'Lantern is a fighter. Alright, speaking of fighters, Brett Daniels, a heavy handed, brawler who darn near won the Margarita Mix in 2021 steps back into the ring to face one of the more impressive newcomers we've seen in awhile in Natural ICE Beckman.

Hood: These two were made for each other.

Smith: Let's get down to ringside for this one!

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Singles Match
Natural ICE Beckman (1-0) vs. Brett Daniels (2-4)

~Back out on the deck of the PROUD AND STRONG...the continent of ANTARCTICA continues to loom. It’s getting later in the evening...the sun is nearly set and the temperature continue to drop. Fans are huddled together, keeping warm. Inside the ring we see Brett Daniels standing in a corner, double fisting some Budweiser. The electric heaters surrounding the ring, beating down on him to give his body warmth~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, he is the 2021 Margarita Mix runner up...he is...Brett Daniels!!!

~Hearty ovation for the lovable drinker. He raises both budweisers before throwing them back with impressive ease~

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~"Feel Good Inc" by Gorillaz hits and the fans give a strong ovation for the impressive OCW newcomer, Natural ICE Beckman!! Beckman struts to the ring bumping fists and elbows with the occasional fan. He reaches the ring, hustles up the steps and enters through the ropes~

Belvedere: From Foam Lake, Wisconsin...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 250lbs...he is Natural ICE Beckman!!!

~Another strong ovation from the fans. Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~

Smith: Natural ICE Beckman had an impressive debut win last week. This week? He faces Brett Daniels.

Hood: No shit, man. We just heard the entrances.

Smith: Well EXCUSE me.

Hood: I swear this arctic air is making you dumber than usual.

~Brett reaches into an ice chest and pulls out two more Budweisers. He heads for the center of the ring and tosses one to Beckman. Beckman looks like a dude that enjoys a good, cold, hard (I guess) beer. Beckman catches the Budweiser...Brett goes for a toast...but Beckman slings the beer out of the ring. CRACK! It hits some fat wrestling fan in the head, knocking him out. Beckman reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a can of NATTY ICE!! The PROUD AND STRONG GO WILD~

Smith: Natural Ice! I hear that beer isn’t very good…

Hood: Hey, you try being an alcoholic with a very, very tight budget. You won’t turn your nose up at Natty Ice, Busch, Red Dog...that stuff will taste like the nectar of the gods.

Smith: Hopefully we pay these guys enough to afford better beer than those!

Hood: LMAO

~Beckman pops the top and throws it back. Daniels eyes bulge...NATTY ICE? He rushes forward with his ice cold bottle of Bud in his hand. He slings the bottle at Beckman’s head...but Beckman responds by blocking it with his can of Natty Ice! A duel begins, Brett trying to hit Beckman with his bottle of Budweiser while Beckman plays defense with his Natty Ice~

Smith: Which beer will out duel the other?

Hood: I mean, I gotta go with the bottle over the can, man.

~The ultimate CLASH takes place...the bottle in Brett’s hand shatters. He looks down...a mixture of suds and dark brown shards in his palm. He shakes them free before looking up and receiving some heavy right hands from Beckman! The crowd goes wild as “NATTY LIGHT!” chants fill the southern atmosphere. Antarctica is buzzing with adoration for Natural Ice...which, ya know, kinda makes sense. A giant haymaker lands on Brett’s head, knocking his hat off...he stumbles into a corner, stunned~

Smith: Beckman with some vicious punches!

Hood: Natural ICE can throw!

Smith: Brett’s a very, very talented brawler...so the fact Beckman’s got him shaken is extremely impressive.

~Brett tries to grab Beckman to bring him in close but Beckman head butts Brett, sending the veteran reeling. He then delivers a ferocious uppercut right into Brett’s chin. The MIX runner up stumbles forward, right into Beckman’s waiting arms as he hoists Brett up and drops him onto the mat with THE DRUNK TANK!!! Daniels rolls over onto his front, wincing in pain...BIG MISTAKE. ICE grabs his leg and rears back, locking in The Booze Hound Burden (Texas Cloverleaf)!!! The fans go wild! Brett’s face twists with extreme pain...but he is refusing to tap~

Smith: Brett is not a quitter, Hood. ICE might break his leg.

Hood: That’s okay. You can still drink lots of beer with a broken leg.

Smith: I mean, that’s not a lie.

~Brett won’t give up! Beckman is about to break his leg. A few fans hop the guardrail! Brett looks on...they reach into the ring for his ice cooler of Budweiser!!! They take it!! Brett quickly taps out!! Scruff calls for the bell! Beckman releases the hold and Brett rolls out of the ring, limping and hobbling after the beer thieves. ICE pays it no mind, returning to his feet to get his hand raised as he pulls another NATTY ICE from his pocket and cracks it open~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...NATURAL ICE BECKMAN!!!!!

Smith: Well, Brett wasn’t going to tap until he saw some fans steal his beer stash.

Hood: That’s enough to make any man quit.

Smith: Despite that foolishness, ICE Beckman dominated from start to finish earning himself a second win in as many matches. Like Brooke, I’m told Beckman is going to compete in next week’s Battle Royal.

Hood: BIG step up. Let’s see if ICE has what it takes...win or lose next week, I think this dude is going to be an OCW mainstay.

Smith: He’s certainly got that CLASSIC OCW vibe...no doubt about it.

~ICE exits the ring and heads toward the inside of the boat~

Smith: Wait! I'm being told LEO is trying to grab ICE on his way out!

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LEO: I am backstage to try and get a word from one of the fresher faces here in the OCW, Natural ICE Beckman. ICE...ICE...Over Here!

ICE: Sorry, I need to go.

LEO: I just want to ask you about that last match.

ICE: You know what, you might want to see this, come with me.

~The camera man follows ICE Beckman and Leo as the begin to head backstage. They pass a few stagehands, interns, and other OCW staff members as they reach the dressing room door for OCW’s General Manager, Marcus Welsh.~

LEO: What is all this commotion?

ICE: Welsh is about to find out what happens when I feel under appreciated.

~A group of girl scouts are pounding on Welsh’s dressing room door. Finally Welsh throws open the door.~

Welsh: What is going on out here!?

Girl Scout Leader: We heard you wanted to set an all-time cookie purchase record.

Welsh: I never said anything at all like that.

Girl Scout Leader: But please, our troop is made up entirely of poor, orphan girls who spent last Christmas in a sweatshop making OCW merchandise.

Welsh: No comment about that, but hell, I do like Thin Mints.

Girl Scout Leader: Actually, all we have is Toffee-Tastic gluten free cookies.

Gloria: Out of the ways little girls, a true experienced woman is here now.

Welsh: Who the hell are you?

Gloria: I am here to see a Mr. Welsh, I’ve heard he has been a bad, bad boy, and could loosen up a little...or is it me you want to see loosen something?

Welsh: You’re old enough to be my grandmother.

Gloria: I am Gloria the Granny Stripper! And wrinkles I got; singles I need.

Charity Head: I am sorry to interrupt whatever all this is, but I am here to speak with a, Mr. Welsh.

Welsh: What now?

Charity Head: I am the head of the St. Jude’s Children Hospital charity. And I was told a Mr. Welsh has a rare piece of artwork that he would like to donate to our worthy cause.

Welsh: I truly know nothing about that!

Worker: I think I do...I was told to bring this here.

Charity Head: I sure am excited to see this brilliant piece of art.

~The charity head pulls a cord attached to a giant elegant picture frame. The cord causes the draping over the painting to fall and reveal...a very Photoshop, but completely tasteless, image of a nearly nude hunk with the head of Marcus Welsh on the top.~

Girl Scout: What does that little sign over his privates say?

Girl Scout Leader: Will Book Matches for Sex.

Welsh: That sign is not that little, not that-

Doug: Excuse me, Mr. Welsh, I presume?

Welsh: What the holy hell now?

Doug: I am Doug, from the Better Business Bureau, I’ve recently received a complaint about how you conduct your business around here. And by the look of these children, that nearly nude old lady, and whatever this “artwork” is supposed to be, I think I am just where I am needed.

Welsh: This is all a huge misunderstanding.

Doug: We’ll see about that; is this your office? Good, I think we need to have a word, or two...or many.

~Just as Welsh’s face is turning its brightest shade of red, ICE Beckman walks up to him.~

ICE: Hey boss, name is Natural ICE Beckman, just wanted to make sure you knew that, since I’ll be crowned a champion around here pretty soon. Oh, and this little “bit” is just a quick reminder that I hate when the front office doesn’t use me to my complete potential. But right now, it looks like your hands are full, so let me just leave you with my business card.

~ICE hands Welsh an empty can of Natural ICE beer and then walks away with a smile from ear to ear on his drunken face. Welsh crushes the can with an angry fist as Leo jumps back in front of the camera.~

LEO: Well, that is one way to get the attention of the boss.

Smith: Hopefully for ICE’s sake, any attention is good attention, but I am not sure that is going to be true in this case.

Hood: Crap, I just remembered earlier a group of pissed off Eagles fans asked me where Welsh’s car was parked.

Smith: Why do they care about that?

Hood: They told me some guy named ICE told them, Marcus Welsh is that ref that made that holding call last night at the end of the Super Bowl.

Smith: Well Uber, I am guessing Welsh might be needing your services later. Alright fans, let's take another commercial break and when we return, TLS will step into the ring to face off against another very impressive rising star, Donnie Harris.


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Singles Match
TLS (32-8) vs. Donnie Harris (4-1)

~Back on deck...the PROUD AND STRONG psychopaths are going wild, ready for their next match. The liquor is taking effect and, well, I’m sure all the jumping and cheering is helping keep these people cool. In the background we see a Polar Bear devour a penguin. That can only mean one thing. It’s time for Donnie Harris~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, our following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!! Introducing first…

~"You'll be cryin' like a bitch!" hits! The line from the chorus blasts over the speakers before the song opens with its opening drumline. As soon as the lyrics start, Donnie slowly emerges from inside the ship wearing a loosely-tied BJJ gi top and a pair of standard boxing shorts. He stands for a moment, in a pair of amateur wrestling shoes that match the shorts. He slowly starts walking toward the ring halfway into the first verse~

Belvedere: On his way to the ring... standing at 6-foot-3-inches tall, weighing in at 228 pounds...Donnie Harris!!!

~Harris reaches the ring and starts to march up the steps when he’s jumped from behind!!! The fans go wild!! Harris falls to the ground! Standing over him is TLS!! TLS puts the boots to Donnie, stomping, stomping, and stomping. Belvedere bails from the ring. Scruff looks on from inside...the match hasn’t started yet, so there’s nothing he can do~

Smith: It’s that sneaky TLS! He just jumped Donnie Harris!

Hood: Hey, if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

~TLS drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around Donnie’s neck, choking the impressive newcomer. Harris coughs, trying to get TLS off of him...he reaches up, clawing at TLS’ face...TLS pops to his feet, pulling his face to safety. Donnie gets onto all fours and reaches for the barricade only to have TLS kick him right in the ribs!! Donnie flips over, onto his ass, seated up against the barricade...TLS jams his foot into Donnie’s throat, applying all the pressure he can into Donnie’s throat~

Smith: This match might end before it ever begins!

Hood: Lesson learned...never let your guard down out there, especially when you’re facing an OCW veteran.

Smith: Yep. TLS is a mastermind when it comes to shady, sneaky behavior.

~Harris tries to remove the foot lodged in his throat but he can’t...the pressure gets to be too much. Donnie goes limp. TLS takes his foot off the gas, so to speak, and looks up at Scruff. Scruff is like, “You gotta get his ass in here so I can ring the bell if you want to win.” TLS looks around, wondering if it’s worth it...wondering, maybe, if PIC is out there~

Smith: TLS has a lot on his mind these days.

Hood: Yep, but if you’re calling him a victim then he’s a victim via his own actions. He started all this.

Smith: Normally he’s the one hiding in dark places...but with a scheduled match, PIC knows exactly where he is and how to find him.

~TLS sees something in the crowd...he narrows his eyes...is that PIC? The ground suddenly evaporates beneath his feet...the OH SHIT contract holder face plants onto the floor! Donnie has taken hold of his right foot...the right foot that was used to choke him earlier. Harris starts to twist and bend it with an ankle lock!~

Smith: Donnie Harris has regained his breath...his awareness and he’s trying to break the ankle that helped put him down to begin with!

Hood: The mind games are, perhaps, finally taking their toll on TLS.

Smith: Yea, I don’t know if that was PIC in the crowd but whoever it was...it was enough to distract him.

~Harris has a good hold on the ankle of TLS and, unlike TLS, he’s very, very focused on winning this match...so he maintains his grip while hopping onto the apron and rolling inside the ring...he gets to his feet, dragging TLS up and onto the apron, showing tremendous strength...he continues to twist on the ankle as TLS head and arms dangle over the apron...he tries to grab onto something...the apron cloth, but it isn’t strong enough...Harris yanks him under the bottom rope and into the ring, torturing the ankle of TLS! Scruff sees that both men are legally in the ring and he calls for the bell! The match is officially underway~

Smith: Okay and NOW we can have a winner and a loser.

Hood: What is TLS thinking? Guy has a cash in opportunity and he wants to WRESTLE...wrestle against a man as skilled as Donnie?

Smith: All part of his plan, Hood.

Hood: Best laid plans and all.

~TLS, the master of the small package, manages to push up enough to where he can tuck his head under and rolls Donnie over!!! He holds onto Donnie’s legs for a pin! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

Smith: Big kick out by Donnie Harris!

Hood: Yea, but TLS showing that no matter how dire the scenario...those wheels are always turning.

Smith: He really is like the cockroach of OCW, isn’t he?

Hood: LOL that’s kinda fucked up to say, especially only two weeks after San Francisco got beat in the playoffs.

~Both men sit up, TLS behind Donnie...he reaches forward, locking in a sleeper...but Donnie gets to his feet, showing tremendous power. TLS wraps his legs around Donnie’s torso, trying to bring him down but Donnie grabs TLS by the head and flips him over!! TLS lands on his feet and runs into a corner, leaping onto the second rope...he springboards off with a reverse cross body!! But Donnie catches him!! TLS tries to wiggle free but Donnie’s got too strong of a grip...he drops to one knee and slams TLS’ ribs across his knee~

Smith: Ouch...bruised ribs, at the very least.

Hood: Germ derm this Donnie guy is strong.

Smith: Tremendous core strength. Combine that with his ferocious attitude and, yea, you’ve got one hell of a threat inside that ring.

~Donnie holds TLS’ body over his knee...he then frees up his right arm and starts to hammer TLS in the face with some fists!! TLS’ head absorbs quite a bit of punishment before Donnie stops and positions his elbow for some downward elbow strikes. SMASH! An elbow bashes TLS across the face. Donnie brings his arm up for another one but TLS frantically reaches up and rakes Donnie across the eyes!! Donnie loses his grip on TLS allowing the veteran to roll off his knee and onto the apron for safety...he holds his ribs and his head while Donnie remains on one knee, center of the ring, rubbing his eyes~

Smith: TLS was a very, very desperate man there. Another elbow like that and he would’ve been knocked out.

Hood: Donnie Harris is showing us all that he’s not one you fuck around with.

Smith: Nope. He takes his very seriously and is very, very focused on one thing and one thing only...winning.

~TLS pulls himself up using the ropes. Donnie gets his vision restored and rises...TLS shakes some pain out of his right ankle before leaping up and springboarding off the top rope! Donnie braces for impact...but TLS lands in front of him, drops to one knee, and delivers a thrusting punch into Donnie’s throat! Donnie is staggered! TLS reaches out, trying to take Donnie over with THE SMALL PACKAGE...but Donnie resists...he holds on and pulls TLS up, tossing him over his shoulders into a Fireman’s Carry!! The crowd pops for the showing of strength from Harris. Harris then simply falls back, allowing gravity to do the work, crushing TLS into the mat with a Samoan Drop!! TLS yells out, immediately reaching for his ribs~

Smith: TLS tried to surprise Donnie with his Small Package.

Hood: LOL what?

Smith: You know what I mean!

Hood: Repeat what you just said.

Smith: I will do no such thing!

~Harris immediately spins around, facing TLS...he’s on his knees and he starts to try to mount TLS to punch him into submission. TLS fights like hell to prevent Donnie from getting a fully mount...Scruff tries to get a good view of the scramble. TLS sees Scruff is blocked, so he lifts a quick knee into Donnie’s crotch! Donnie stops fighting, grimacing in pain. TLS is able to slide out from under Harris, backing up against the ropes before grabbing the top rope and pulling himself up. Donnie, still on his knees, looks up at TLS...TLS charges forward and throws a penalty kick into Donnie’s face! But Donnie ducks it and he grabs TLS by his right ankle~

Smith: Donnie looking to apply that ankle lock again!

Hood: If he injures TLS then I think it’s safe to say that cash in isn’t happening any time soon.

Smith: TLS might have pushed his luck a little too far taking this match with Donnie Harris.

~TLS gets to one foot, hopping to keep his balance. Donnie has his other ankle and is trying to twist it far enough to send TLS to the mat. TLS blasts Donnie in the chest with a mule kick!! Donnie is stunned. TLS hops, gets his balance and he leaps off his left foot with an inverted spinning heel kick with the back of his left foot smacking Donnie in the jaw!! Donnie releases his grip on TLS’ ankle and he stumbles into the ropes. The fans go wild~

Smith: These fans have been behind TLS all year. I think they feel it’s his year to finally reach the top of OCW.

Hood: I’ve always been told the day TLS wins the OCW Title is the day this place shuts down.

Smith: I don’t know how to feel about that.

~TLS gets to his feet, a little ginger on that right ankle...he runs forward, clotheslining Donnie...but Donnie ducks and he hoists TLS over the top rope all the way to the floor! TLS lands on both feet but winds up crashing at ringside. Harris staggers into the corner, continuing to recover from the kick to the face. TLS is down on his back...he glances toward the ring before reaching out and lifting up the apron...he then rolls over and starts to dig under the ring for something~

Smith: What is he doing?

Hood: Grabbing a Gatorade so he doesn’t get dehydrated.

Smith: I doubt that!

Hood: I’d peg him as a red Gatorade kinda guy.

Smith: You can’t sleep on orange. Orange Gatorade is really good.

Hood: Orange Gatorade is for pussies!

~Harris refocuses and heads for the ropes. TLS is on all fours, hiding something. Donnie reaches through the ropes, grabbing TLS by the hair...as he does, TLS reaches back, trying to hit him with a chair!! But Donnie grabs the chair and he rips it away from TLS...Harris gets to his feet and looks at the chair like, ‘You son of a bitch!’ He tosses the chair, angrily across the ring, it hits the mat and slides up against the bottom turnbuckle...where it conveniently comes to rest. Harris goes back after TLS, who is now standing with his back to the ring...Harris reaches over the top rope, grabbing TLS by the head to pull him up...but TLS kicks his legs up and flips over, winding up on Donnie’s shoulders in the Electric Chair position!! The fans pop! Harris stumbles around, confused...TLS looks down, trying to figure out what he’s going to do now. He punches Donnie in the top of the head a few times~

Smith: Tremendous agility by TLS! He might be old but he can still move!

Hood: I hear trolls are very agile, Smith.

Smith: I’ve actually heard the exact opposite, but okay.

Hood: They live under bridges, man. You have to be agile to live under a bridge...especially in London, cause they are always falling down.

Smith: ha ha ha

~TLS leans forward to bite Donnie...but Donnie grabs him and takes him down with a Michinoku Driver! Out of nowhere!! TLS is down!! Donnie holds on for the pin!! Scruff slides in~

1!

2!

3!!

NO!

Smith: Kick out by TLS! But gosh darn! Donnie’s instincts kicked in and he pulled off a near PERFECT Michinoku Driver!

Hood: Dropped TLS right on his fuckin head.

Smith: But, TLS survives...for now.

~Donnie remains focused in spite of the nearfall. He grabs TLS by the head...TLS spits in his face!! Harris leans back...TLS sits up and crawls away...but Harris quickly lunges out, grabbing the right leg of TLS...TLS snares the middle rope! Donnie gets to his feet and he tries to pull TLS off the ropes. TLS throws another mule kick...but Donnie is a quick learner, he grabs the leg of TLS and tosses him over with a wheelbarrow suplex!!! TLS lands hard!! Donnie sits up, moving with a sense of urgency~

Smith: He’s got TLS staggered...thrown. Now is his opportunity!

Hood: He’s tossing TLS around like nothing...look out, OCW. Donnie Harris is a fuckin beast.

~Harris pulls TLS to his feet...TLS fires off some knife edged chops!! Harris stumbles back!! TLS might be injured and taken quite a bit of punishment, but he’s gonna keep fighting. He’s got Harris backing up against the ropes...the fans are on their feet. TLS whips Donnie off the ropes...but Donnie reverses!!! TLS hits the ropes, bounces off and Harris catches him~

Smith: SPINEBUSTER!

Hood: Oh shit! Lights out, TLS!

~Donnie lifts TLS for his Avalanche Spinebuster!!! But TLS holds onto Donnie’s head...Donnie drives TLS into the mat with tremendous force! But, in doing so, he also winds up suffering a DDT!!! TLS is down from the spinebuster...Donnie is down from the DDT...the fans are on their feet, going wild~

Smith: TLS did all he could in that situation...he was gonna get laid out so he returned the favor!

Hood: Fuckin guy...you might be right, he might really be a cockroach.

Smith: Nothing can kill him!

~Donnie pushes up with his arms...he gets to all fours and he stares at the mat. He then looks over at TLS, who hasn’t moved. Donnie gets to one knee, holding his head...he finally reaches his feet and staggers around. He regains his equilibrium and stares down at TLS, who still hasn’t moved. Harris kicks at TLS, making sure he’s not faking...or trying to, anyway. TLS’ is limp...dead weight. Confidently, Harris reaches down to grab TLS...but TLS springs up and rakes Donnie across the eyes!! Donnie spins around...TLS grabs him and pulls him to the mat with a roll up! They’re near the corner...so the back of Donnie’s head hits the chair!!! TLS rolls up on top of Donnie with a handful of tights...Scruff slides in, unable to see the handful of tights...he makes the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...THE LOST STRANGER!!!!!

Smith: TLS did it!

Hood: Yea, thanks to that chair! He played fuckin possum and then tossed Donnie back on his head into that chair, rolled him up AND held the tights. Plus, I’m pretty sure Donnie’s body was close enough to be in the ropes.

Smith: That’s not what Scruff said.

~TLS rolls back to the center of the ring. He gets to all fours and looks over at Donnie, who is down, holding his head. TLS knows he’s gonna be pissed once he recovers...so he rises back to his feet, sprints forward and stomps on Donnie! Stomps and stomps and stomps before kicking him out of the ring. The fans are giving a mixed reaction to TLS’ antics...they’re not really sure it’s THAT cool to kick a tough competitor while he’s down~

Smith: TLS seems a little unhinged there.

Hood: The mind games he’s been playing are impacting him as well, Smith. He’s scared Harris is gonna get up and lay him out. Plus he’s got the threat of…

~The crowd goes wild!! TLS is facing the corner, staring outside the ring at Donnie, who is down. TLS hears the crowd’s ovation and his jaw tightens as he slowly turns around to spot OCW Champion, PIC! PIC is in the center of the ring, holding his OCW Championship~

Smith: It’s PIC!

Hood: He’s not gonna try and run and hide from TLS this week. He knows exactly where he’s at and he’s going to keep his eye on him.

Smith: The mind games of TLS...have they run their course? Have they turned, resulting in the opposite of their intended effect?

~TLS approaches PIC. PIC shows TLS his OCW Title and says, “Here. Cash in. Let’s get this over with.” TLS looks down at the belt and up at PIC. The fans chant, “YES! YES! YES! YES!”~

Smith: PIC wants TLS to cash in!

Hood: Of course he does! TLS just went through war with Donnie Harris. His ankle is hurt. His ribs are hurt. PIC, meanwhile, has been out here getting some sun, drinking virgin daiquiris and blow drying his hair.

Smith: Always about his hair.

Hood: Look at his hair...it’s both glorious and maddening at the same time!

~TLS smirks. He’s not budging. PIC throws the title in the air with one hand and motions for the crowd to cheer with the other. “DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!” TLS rolls his eyes. PIC turns his back to TLS to continue to rile the fans up~

Smith: Oh no, don’t do that, PIC

Hood: What is he thinking?!

~TLS looks over his shoulder and sees the chair. He slowly backs up and grabs it. PIC waves his arms up and down, getting the crowd louder and louder. TLS has the chair in his hands and he’s standing behind PIC~

Smith: Turn around, PIC!

Hood: MIND YOUR SURROUNDINGS

~PIC finally turns around and BLAST!! TLS slams the chair into his face!! PIC hits the mat, dropping the belt. The fans start to boo! TLS slams the chair into PIC over and over and over and over and over~

Smith: The fans don’t like this!

Hood: Why not? They were JUST chanting for TLS to cash in!

Smith: Yea, for a fair fight...not like this!

Hood: THIS is what the cash in is all about, Smith!

~The chair is warped and bent. TLS throws it out of the ring. The fans are going wild...and not in the ‘yay TLS’ kind of way...almost a riotous vibe as he’s decimating the champ right before their eyes. TLS grabs the OCW title and he rams it into PIC’s head as the champion is laying on his side atop the mat. BAM! BAM! BAM! Belt shot after belt shot...the champ goes limp. TLS tosses the OCW Title aside and looks up at Scruff~

Smith: Oh no, don’t do it.

Hood: Now’s the time!

~TLS says, “I’m cashing in!” Scruff’s eyes widen. The crowd gasps. Scruff then nods and turns to Belvedere~

Belvedere: I’ve just been informed that TLS is cashing in his OH SHIT CONTRACT! This OCW Championship match starts NOW!

~The bell rings! The fans are going crazy~

Smith: No! Don’t let it end like this!

Hood: This is how it was always going to end, Smith!

~TLS promptly makes the cover! Scruff slides in with the count! The fans chant along~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~NO!!!~

Smith: WHAT?!

~TLS is yanked off PIC before Scruff can count three! He’s pulled from the ring by a recovered Donnie Harris~

Smith: Donnie Harris just broke up the pin!

Hood: Geezus. That dude just altered OCW history!

~He spins TLS around, who is in state of shock and starts punching him! TLS, outside the ring, leans up against the apron, absorbing the blows while in the background PIC remains on his back, the OCW Title near him. The fans don’t know how to react...so much shit going on~

Smith: Harris is upset...he knows TLS bent and, or broke just about every rule to beat him.

Hood: Yea, he came prepared to wrestle...not to deal with TLS’ mindgames and sneaky tactics.

Smith: But now he’s cost TLS what was a guaranteed OCW Title win.

Hood: Fuck around and find out.

~Donnie finally picks TLS up and delivers a modified SPINEBUSTER into the edge of the apron! TLS falls to the ground, holding his back. The fans boo Donnie...but he doesn’t care, the guy got his revenge and took care of his business. He marches around the ring, heading back toward the inside of the boat...he catches a glimpse of TLS and the OCW Title. Maybe one day, Harris. Maybe one day. He leaves...both PIC and TLS are down with the OCW Title hanging in the balance~

Smith: TLS has been decimated! Donnie is out of there having left his mark on OCW history.

Hood: Well, TLS lost the guaranteed win...but it’s not over.

Smith: Nope. He can still win this...it’ll just be, well, like a real match. No clear advantage.

~Scruff looks around...he sees the carnage...he sees two men down and he does what any ref would do...he starts to count. ‘ONE!’ Nobody moves. ‘TWO!’ Nobody moves. ‘THREE!’ nobody moves. ‘FOUR!’ nobody moves~

Smith: Oh no...a double countout?

Hood: What does that even mean?

Smith: It means both wrestlers are simultaneously counted out.

Hood: Well, I know that, mother fucker. What does it mean as far as the OCW Title is concerned?

Smith: Sticks with PIC, I believe.

~ ‘FIVE!’ Scruff yells. Nothing. ‘SIX!’...the fans yell back, “PICK UP STICKS!” haha, classic ocw, baby! But still, nothing. “SEVEN!” NOTHING. Scruff pauses and looks at PIC...he then looks outside the ring at TLS...he’s face down, holding his back, kicking at the ground. “EIGHT!!” The tension is rising~

Smith: Only two seconds left. Neither man has moved.

Hood: C’mon...somebody get up!

~PIC suddenly sits up! The fans go wild!! He reaches for his OCW Title, clutching it, crawling for the ropes...he gets to his feet!! Scruff yells, “NINE!” PIC looks toward the side of the ring where TLS was pulled out. We see TLS’ hand reach up, grabbing onto the apron. Scruff has nine fingers up...he brings them down, ready to call for ten. PIC doesn’t urge him on, he just watches. Scruff hesitates~

Smith: Scruff giving TLS a little extra time here.

Hood: Will it matter?

~TLS’ head pops up...he looks in the ring at PIC. PIC looks back at him, holding the title. TLS then gives PIC the middle finger before dropping back to the floor! Scruff yells, “TEN!!!” and the bell rings! The fans go wild!!! PIC stumbles into a corner, clutching his OCW Title~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND STILL OCW CHAMPION...PIC!!!!!

Smith: PIC survived!

Hood: Lucky mother fucker.

Smith: Had it not been for Donnie Harris...we’d have a new OCW Champion.

Hood: TLS’ sneaky...somewhat underhanded tactics bit him in the ass in a big way tonight.

Smith: What goes around, comes around. TLS remains devoid of an OCW Title win...losing out on what was, probably, his easiest route.

Hood: Sucks.

~TLS grimaces, leaning up against the guardrail...his back screaming from that spinebuster into the apron. He stares into the ring at PIC holding the OCW title...he knows he lost, big time tonight...but there’s still time. He’s not finished yet. PIC stares down at his former tag partner and current tormentor. He’s happy he survived the cash in...but also feeling a bit of sorrow for his longtime frenemy’s inability to capture the OCW Championship~

Smith: A lot of history between those two men, Hood.

Hood: Yea. TLS has come so close so many times. Meanwhile, he looks in the ring and sees one of the men he came up with in this business holding the very title that’s eluded him for twenty years.

Smith: Life is tough. OCW is tougher.

Hood: Right fucking on.

~PIC doesn’t gloat. He takes his title and leaves. As he heads to the back, he passes by a man who looks JUST LIKE Earl...if Earl had a very, almost ridiculously thick and fake looking mustache and eyebrows. TLS remains seated against the barricade, staring off into the distance...along the horizon...his eyes find the tip of THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS. We slowly fade to commercial~

Picture

~Harmon Egan stood at the prow of the Proud and Strong with the growing landmass of Antarctica slowly growing in the distance. He was enshrouded in a parka, but still a thin film of ice appeared on his hair and eye brows. His revelry was soon interrupted by a strong burst of air. Harmon whirled to see a mini torrent of gusts buffeting about on the deck, and then, from those blasts of wind, emerged Corey Smith and his boyfriend Pan~

~Harmon raised a hand to them in “hello”, but all this drew was a gruff look from Pan. He whispered something to Corey before stepping back into the portal he had created from the winds and was gone. Harmon looked at Corey now, whose features seemed grave and uncertain. Harmon tried another wave, and Corey waved back, weakly. Carefully going for his pen and paper so it wouldn’t be borne away by the chill gusts, Harmon started to write.~

How was Neverland?

Magical. Corey replied, but without a hint of joy or wistfullness as it usually did. Look, can we talk?

Of course.

Corey scratched the back of his wool capped head, as though reluctant to continue. But finally, he did so. If there was thing going on between us you’d say so, right?

Harmon just shook his head in confusion.

I mean, if you had something you had to tell me.

I did tell you what was going on, Corey. I kept seeing these creepy visions of The Faith.

I know. I know about that. I mean…something else… Corey trailed off. Harmon still looked confused. Are you angry with me?

Harmon’s features pricked up in an expression denoting mild annoyance. Corey, what is this about?

Just answer the question. Are you mad at me?

Of course not.

Corey turned his head to the side, looking out at the waters. He somehow didn’t seem convinced.

What’s going on? Tell me.

I…it’s…hard to explain…

You’re acting like you don’t trust me.

I know…I know, it’s just…. Corey looked frustrated, unsure how to proceed.

Harmon slashed out another note. Well, why don’t you come find me when you catch your tongue. I’ll be below decks. With that, Harmon curtly returned his note pad to his pocket and walked past Corey without a second glance.

Corey turned to watch him go, a combination of feelings written on his face. Frustration. Sadness.

Fear.

~The shot cuts back to the announce position with Smith and Hood~

Smith: An odd interaction there between the Craze Champion and his manager Corey Smith.

Hood: Yeah, maybe Corey found out something bad about Harmon. Or maybe he’s just on the outs with the Velvet Mafia.

Smith: Velvet Mafia?

Hood: Yeah, you know. Corey and Pan are both gay. Maybe Harmon’s on the outs with the gay mafia all of a sudden. You know how catty they can be!

Smith: Oh would you stop it! That’s homophobic!

Hood: Hey, don’t make claims like that! If Corey and Pan catch wind of it they’ll never let me go to Neverland.

Smith: Oh, you think they’re going to take YOU?

Hood: I bet the elf bitches there are hot as fuck.

Smith: Oh for…*Smith’s imagination drifts* ….now I kinda want to go to Neverland.

Hood: Fuckin grow up.

Smith: YOU GROW UP! *ahem* Folks, we're getting late in the evening...it's getting cold out here. That can mean only one thing...Sub Zero temperatures are heading our way. It's our main event! A Sub Zero match for the Massacre Championship and it's coming your way, after this commercial break!


Picture

Picture

~The sun rises slowly over the shore in southern Argentina. Men and women bustle about at the docks, readying fishing boats, preparing passenger boats for tourists, and loading crates onto commercial ships. Ushuaia was the southern most port city in South America. It was bustling, busy, exciting. Everyone was in a hurry… except one man and two ghosts. The Big Bifford, followed by his dead former manager Martin Ka’Berryon’s ghost and the ghost of Martin’s father, stepped onto the port and looked out. He looked pleased with himself.~

Bifford: This is step one boys.. we are heading to Antarctica.. wait until you see the style we are going with.

Martin: I hope you didn’t sacrifice safety for style.. like you always do.

Bifford: Silence, Martin.. we are all about style.

~The three men.. or man and two ghosts.. walked toward the edge of the dock. Bifford pointed out into the horizon.~

Bifford: See her? She’s beautiful.

Picture

~Martin and his father both look out with their mouth’s open and eyes bulging. The camera turned out and looked out to the water and saw.. a massive Spanish Galleon sailing toward the port. The massive multi-decked sailing ship, popular from the 16th to 18th century, with its three masts, looked majestic.~

Martin: Hold on a second.. we are taking THAT THING to Antarctica? We are going to the most dangerous place on earth and you’ve decided to not use a ship with motors but rather to harness THE POWER OF THE WIND to get us to the scariest place on earth? We’re going to get into a big wooden casket and let THE WIND take us to the shores of Antarctica? There ain’t no way we’re doing that.

Bifford: Yes you are.. and yeah, we will make it. Don’t worry. This is my destiny.

Martin: You know that you don’t have to try to make this journey more dangerous, right?

~Bifford shrugged and rolled his eyes.~

Bifford: We’ve got some work to do this week to get THE BIFF EXPRESS in tip-top shape and then we will set sail this weekend.

~Bifford walks toward the dock where it appears his SPANISH GALLEON will land, leaving the two ghosts alone.~

Martin: Well, dad.. you always said you wanted him to die to get revenge for the multiple times he killed you.

Dad: I just hope its really brutal.. I was thrown out of a hot air balloon and had a lion statue dropped on me.

Martin: There’s no way this ends well..

Dad: We keep saying that.. and yet..

~The two men sigh and then follow Bifford toward the dock as the scene changes back to Hood and Smith~

Smith: Bifford leading those men to their death.

Hood: They're already dead, aren't they?

Smith: Maybe.

Hood: Can you die twice and, if so, what happens?

Smith: I couldn't tell you. I stopped dealing in the arts of the dead six and a half years ago.

Hood: ...

Smith: Alright fans, it's main event time! Dylan Thomas became the first ever Massacre champion one week ago! Tonight, as per the rules of this new title, he must defend it...who is his opponent? A returning Claudius Augustus! It's a Sub Zero Match and it's for the Massacre Title...and, it's nexxxt!

Picture

Massacre Championship
Sub-Zero Match
Dylan Thomas (c) (22-17) vs. Claudius Augustus (8-6)

~We get a shot of the PROUD AND STRONG cruise ship. Our view dramatically shifts to THE COAST. A metal box is embedded into the snow several hundred feet off the slushy coastline. It looks like something that dropped straight out of the sky. Probably did, actually. OCW always half asses this shit. CLASSIC OCW, BABY. Anyway, a group of eskimos (?) or are they just undercover nazis? We’re not sure. But it’s a group of locals hired to help brave the conditions. They work and pull and pry at a giant, metal door...finally getting it open, breaking through a thick coat of ice. The inside howls like a gaping asshole after an all night mexican buffet. Tuff, OCW’s fourth most reliable referee, leans back upon being hit by the stale, frozen air from inside this giant, metal cube. It’s dark and deep inside. But, Tuff is a man who is proud to make 13k a year...which means he feels as though his existence is meaningless. So, he just leaps inside, ready to brave whatever is waiting to greet him. Belvedere’s voice booms from the cruise ship~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...it is now time for our Main Event of the evening! This is a Sub Zero Match! These two wrestlers will do battle inside a frozen, metal box...battling each other AND the sub zero conditions until one emerges as the winner and the OCW Massacre Champion!

~Huge ovation from the crowd~

Smith: This is the third ever Sub Zero Match, Hood. Supreme Machine and Ed Houston were victorious in the previous two!

Hood: I don’t know why people sign up for this shit. And did the narrator say ‘gaping asshole’?

Smith: I’m unable to hear narration. So I wouldn’t know. -folds arms-

Hood: Well you don’t have to be such a bitch about it.

~The thrum of helicopter propellers rises on the air in time with the opening drum beat and unmistakable guitar notes of ‘Fortunate Son’ by CCR. Both Hood and Smith pause to look around confused.~

Hood: What the hell…?

“Some folk are born– made to wave the flag— ooh they’re Red, white and Blue,” John Fogarty sings.

~Cut to an amazing montage of wicked aerial footage of two military choppers flying over the ocean towards the Proud and Strong, inside both aircraft are a near uncountable throng of faces.~

“And when the band plays ‘Hail to the Chief’-- they point the cannon at you, Lord”

~Zoom in on Brad Stokes wearing sunglasses and a badass bandana as the wind whips all around him. He’s sitting in a wheelchair, one hand gripping a handle. This is so fuckin’ badass.~

~Both Hood and Smith look up with increasingly perplexed expressions, trying to make out what’s going on as both helicopters circle the forecastle of the Proud and Strong before touching down.~

Smith: I, uh, I don’t think this is that kind of sh–

“It ain’t me! It ain’t me! I ain’t no Senator’s Son, son!”

~Pouring out of the helicopters, stooping beneath the whirring propeller blades, at least 15 people of varying shapes and sizes are now aboard, surrounding the helicopter with Brad Stokes, puzzling over how to get Brad Stokes and his wheelchair off the helicopter and onto the deck.~

Smith & Hood in unison: It’s the Stokes Family Dynasty!

Smith: My god how many of them are there?

Hood: But this ship doesn’t have wheelchair access.

“It ain’t me! It ain’t me! I ain’t no fortunate one!”

~Arriving to the same conclusion, Chad, Tad, Thad, Paddy and Brad Junior have opted to lift Brad out of the helicopter and onto the deck. Brad slaps all of their hands away as behind them, a striking, utterly gorgeous blonde pushes Brad’s wheelchair toward Smith and Hood.~

Hood: Oh… it’s Maddie. Let me just fix my tie.

~While Hood is making himself presentable, Fortunate Son by CCR fades and Brad is wheeled up beside them and fitted with a headset~

Smith: It appears we’re being joined by the Legend Brad Stokes. Hello Brad.

Brad Stokes: Hey! Nice to see you guys, hey!

Hood: Why didn’t you bring the whole family, Brad?

~Brad glares.~

Smith: Quite the entrance.

Hood: You know you don’t need theme music when you call commentary, Brad.

Stokes: What, that old thing? That’s my everyday entrance music. Just a little thing I threw together at the last minute, no big deal. So what are we doing, calling a match?

Smith: That’s right.

Stokes: Alright, let’s do it. I might be a little rusty, but who the hell do you think invented commentary?

Hood: Well–

Stokes: Exactly, buddy boy. Exactly! Let’s get right down to brass tax, shall we!

~We cut to the frozen water. A block of ice glides across the thick, wet coast, making it’s way toward shore. Standing proudly atop the block is OCW Massacre Champion, Dylan Thomas. He’s fully decked out in appropriate attire. PROUD AND STRONG members paddle the block of ice to shore, carrying the champion to his destination~

Belvedere: Introducing first, he stands 6’2 and weighs in at 222lbs...he is the current OCW Massacre Champion...he is...Dylan Thomas!!!

Stokes: I could’ve done that better.

Smith: I’m sure you could, Brad. Thomas dressed appropriately this go around. If you’ll remember, he competed in the last Sub Zero Match and, well, dressed like the Mortal Kombat character which turned out to not be near enough clothing resulting in his near death.

Hood: Yes we almost had ourselves a murder on that fateful night.

Smith: A mysterious person threw in the towel, ending his night. A mystery that, apparently, was never solved.

Hood: Hmmmm

~Thomas reaches the shore and marches through the ice, his thick boots protecting his susceptible feet. Reaching the giant, metal cube...he looks inside. He hears Tuff whistle before yelling, “COME ON IN, FELLA!” Dylan looks around, he takes in a deep breath and steps forward. Instant cut. We’re not inside the giant Sub Zero cube. It’s a big, thick, icy, metal dungeon with a wrestling ring in the center. Everything is coated in snow and ice. Save for one corner, well lit. In the corner is Claudius Augustus, stoking a warm fire. Tuff joins him, to keep warm, rubbing his hands together. Opposite side of the cube Dylan’s body comes sliding down, into a pile of snow~

Belvedere: And, his opponent, currently in the cube, making himself at home...he is the Modern Day Roman Emperor...he is...Claudius Augustus!

Smith: Claudius ALREADY in the cube.

Hood: Makes sense. He’s getting used to his surroundings.

Stokes: Nice, nice. A cube. You know back in my day we wrestled in circles?

Smith: You don’t say, Brad?

Stokes: That’s right. SQUARED circles. Kids today, am I right?

Hood: It’s despicable, is what it is, Brad. Disrespectful, even.

Stokes: Hear, hear.

Smith: We haven’t seen Claudius in months. He was, in many people’s minds, the most talented wrestler of 2022 to never win a title. That could all change tonight.

~Thomas pulls himself out of the pile of snow he slid into. He’s sporting a thick, blue hoodie, gloves, thick blue pants, and boots. He steps forward, slowly pulling the hood back and tossing his eyes toward Claudius. Claudius stands, slowly removing the fur coat around his shoulders to reveal a thick, armor-like attire. The malicious eyes of Claudius land on Dylan...he steps away from the fire. Tuff, marshmallows in hand, cries out, “aww man!” throwing them to the ground, realizing it’s time to work. Dylan and Claudius come face to face along the side of the ring...about 6 feet of space from the ring to the side of the cube. A stare down is underway~

Smith: These two men are trying to psyche each other out!

Hood: Or have they frozen in place?

Smith: They aren’t frozen!

Stokes: Could be low blood sugar?

Hood: Is that what happens to you?

~Brad glares before glancing back at Maddie.~

Stokes: Get me my heart medication, please.

Maddie Stokes: But you already took your–

Brad Stokes: Get me more, dammit, these kids are gonna be the death of me.

~While Maddie wrestles with the dilemma of potentially over-medicating her dad, arrogantly, Augustus shoves Dylan back. Dylan responds by firing up with a right hand...but Claudius blocks it!! He unloads on Dylan with right hand after right hand after right hand!!! Dylan stumbles over the ring steps, nearly falling. He regains his balance only to eat a kick into the midsection, which results in his body being thrown up against the ice cold, metal wall of the Sub Zero Cube. Augustus charges forward and lifts a knee into Dylan’s midsection...but Dylan doesn’t react. Instead, Claudius stumbles back, holding his right knee in pain, taking a seat on the ring steps~

Smith: What the?

Hood: Dylan’s abs are frozen!

Smith: They are not!

Stokes: Funny thing, I used to know a Dylan Thomas a few years ago. Poet. Same guy, you think?

~It’s Smith’s turn to glare at Brad. Dylan reaches into his hooded coat and removes the Massacre Championship from around his waist. Claudius curses under his breath. Thomas rushes forward, trying to hit Claudius in the head with the belt...but Claudius easily avoids the impact, diving at Dylan’s legs, taking them out, resulting in Thomas’s face slamming into the steps! The impact breaks the sheet of ice coating the steps, sending a bunch of sleet/snow falling to the ground. Thomas quickly rolls off the steps, holding his face in pain. Claudius finds the Massacre title, ripping it from Dylan’s hands and staring into it...will it be his? We’re about to find out~

Smith: Can’t rush in on Claudius. He’s too smart.

Hood: You think he’ll let PIG touch the belt?

Smith: I don’t know! Probably? Again, I DON’T KNOW

Stokes: Shit this is exciting. Maddie! More heart medicine!

Maddie Stokes: But you just–

Stokes: Heart medicine! Now!

~While Brad downs another dose of meds, Augustus drops the belt to the ground. It lands near Dylan. He reaches to grab it but Claudius grabs him first, pulling him up to his feet before unleashing a chop across his chest. It doesn’t have the intended impact so Claudius leans in with a headbutt, stunning the champion. He then grabs the zipper on Dylan’s coat and yanks it down, opening it up. Underneath Dylan is wearing a long sleeved shirt...Claudius delivers a few chops to the exposed underwear which find the mark. CHOP! CHOP! CHOP! Dylan leans forward, wincing in pain. Claudius grabs him and slings him away from the ring toward the wall...his feet slip and slide, sending him flying into the wall, back slamming into it, hard. His body falls onto the cold, frozen, wet floor~

Smith: Uh oh

Hood: I know...you’re thinking what I’m thinking. What we’re ALL thinking. KEEP DYLAN WARM

Stokes: My god I was thinking that. This damn kid’s telepathic!

Smith: Claudius unzipped that thick, outer layer. If Dylan gets exposed to the elements...this, well, this won’t be good.

Hood: Do we have any white towels aboard the ship?

Stokes: Only the ones my kids aren’t stashing in their suitcases.

~Before Dylan can get up, he’s met with a boot from Claudius. The emperor then grabs Dylan by the back of his coat, trying to pull him up...he does, but also removes the coat, mostly. So much so that it’s got Dylan’s arms caught in the sleeves, behind his back. He’s almost in a straight jacket. Claudius laughs, shoving him up against the wall. He then punches away on Dylan’s face with the Massacre Champion unable to protect himself~

Smith: Oh dear, Dylan is in trouble now.

Hood: He should’ve just forfeited the match. Sub Zero is his kryptonite. Man just doesn’t know how to dress for the occasion.

Stokes: Brilliant technique. Pretty sure I invented it. Called it the Stokes Jersey Maneuver.

Smith: To be fair, he dressed far more appropriately this go around. Claudius is just being a jerk about it.

Hood: Why is the zipper so easy to unzip, huh? Look at Claudius. Probably needs the jaws of life to remove his armor. Dylan? Nah, just zip the fucker down. Some shit off the rack from Academy.

~Claudius palms Dylan’s chin and thrusts his head back against the steel wall. Dylan grimaces as the painful, cold surface bites into his head. Augustus leans forward, staring into Dylan’s eyes...the look of threat. Dylan fires back by shaking his head free and leaning forward, driving his shoulder into Claudius!! He charges ahead and drives Claudius all the way back into the apron of the ring!! Augustus winces in pain, reaching for his back. Dylan steps back, jumps up and delivers a dropkick, smacking Claudius in the chest with both his feet!! The emperor falls, holding his chest. Dylan is on the ground, sliding around, trying to get his arms free~

Smith: Fight back, Dylan! Don’t let Claudius bully you like that!

Hood: It’d suck to win a title after months of failure only to lose it the next week.

Smith: Let’s not entertain such a horrible scenario.

Hood: Why not?

Stokes: I’ll entertain every goddamn scenario I goddamn well want. I want to see Claudius beating Dylan to a pulp while wearing a set of recently lopped off polar bear hands.

Smith: ….

Hood: Unlikely, but not impossible, Brad. Significantly less likely than Dylan Thomas losing the title.

Stokes: You are such a coward. Be a man, for god’s sake.

~Claudius catches his wind and gets to one knee. He eyes Dylan squirming. Claudius reaches his feet and heads over, snaring Dylan...he pulls Dylan up...but Dylan reveals that his right arm is free!! The fans aboard the PROUD AND STRONG go wild, watching it via big screen on the deck. Dylan hits Claudius with right hand after right hand after right hand! The emperor is reeling against the ring...Dylan whips him forward and Augustus SLAMS his back into the steel wall. He stumbles forward...Dylan boots him in the gut, hooks him, lifts him up and tosses him over with an Exploder Suplex!!! Claudius lands into a pile of snow at the foot of the ramp that leads in and out of the cube!!! The fans aboard the PROUD AND STRONG are going wild~

Smith: Dylan Thomas is on fire!

Hood: NOT LITERALLY!

Smith: Speaking of, there is an actual fire in that cube.

Hood: Yes, we saw. And some uncooked marshmallows. Tragedy has struck inside the cube.

Stokes: Speaking of, either of you guys ever see that movie ‘Cube’?

Hood and Smith: ….

Stokes: What?

~We see Dylan rubbing his arms. The cold is starting to get to him. He pulls Claudius out of the snow...he slings him into the steel ring steps, Claudius hits HARD! The sheet of ice coating the steps shatters, flying into the air. Augustus sits up against the steps, stunned. Dylan removes his gloves...the cloth is soaked and doing more harm than good. He throws them at Claudius, pelting him in the face...more annoying than anything else. Dylan then rushes forward, looking to drive a knee into the head of the emperor...but Augustus moves!! Dylan leaps up, adjusting on the fly, landing on the top step...the broken ice allows for his feet to get a good grip on the surface. Claudius scrambles to his feet...he turns around, Dylan leaps off, spins around and he hits Claudius with a enziguri!!!! The emperor is down!! Dylan makes the cover! Tuff cartwheels in and makes the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!!

Smith: Wow! Dylan nearly had it!

Hood: The gloves are off, Smith. LITERALLY

Stokes: Maddie! HEART MEDS!

Smith: Are you going to make it, Brad? Speaking of, those hands have zero protection against the elements, now.

Hood: Again, why did he buy gloves made out of material that just soaks up water? C’MON, DYLAN

~As if he can hear the announcers, Dylan looks at his hands. They are getting red and cold and slightly numb. Time is of the essence. He pulls Claudius up and slings him into the ring...the emperor slides across the frozen mat. Dylan marches up the ring steps which are devoid of ice. He carefully steps onto the frozen apron, stepping through the frozen ropes. Claudius tries to get to his feet but he keeps slipping, unable to get a good base with his feet. Dylan rushes forward...part running, part sliding, but he catches Claudius with a clothesline, sending him HARD onto the frozen mat! The emperor reaches for the back of his head, wincing. Dylan grabs onto the ropes for support but his hands are numb...they are BRIGHT red and fucking cold. He sees that fire in the corner of the cube where Claudius was waiting. He drops to the mat and slides out of the ring~

Smith: Dylan needs to warm those hands up.

Hood: Can’t beat a man if you can’t grab hold of him.

Stokes: I think I could beat both of these men, even with that stipulation.

Smith: Nope. I also think that maybe this should be the last Sub Zero Match Dylan competes in. He’s nearly died in one of them and might be close to losing a hand in this one.

Hood: So he should just puss out is what you’re saying? WEAK ASS

Stokes: I couldn’t agree more. Down with Dylan Thomas and every single man, woman or child like him!

~Dylan gets near the fire, rubbing his hands together. He’s got to hurry. The emperor is down but he is far from defeated. Over his shoulder we see Claudius get to one knee. Dylan rubs those hands together, the heat feeling like a warm embrace. He works the fingers in and out, the hand open and shut. Augustus is now on his feet, staring down at Dylan...he slowly slides out of the ring. Thomas is just about done with Claudius grabs him from behind!! He tries to thrust Dylan’s face into the fire!! But Dylan blocks it and elbows Claudius into the gut!! The fans aboard the PROUD AND STRONG GO WILD! Augustus stumbles back. Dylan punches him in the head again and again and again!! The emperor is reeling against the apron. Dylan rushes forward...but Claudius ducks and lifts Dylan into the air!! Dylan lands on the apron! Claudius turns around and eats a mule kick in the face!! He stumbles against the steel wall. Dylan spins around, leaps off and he delivers a HUGE knee into the face of the emperor...the back of his head slamming into the metal wall!! Augustus collapses to the ground. Dylan falls, catching himself with his hands...in the process they get buried in a pile of snow~

Smith: Augustus might be out!

Hood: Yea, and Dylan’s hands might be frozen.

Smith: Ugh, that’s gotta be painful.

Hood: Yep, glad I’m up here, aboard this ship, drinking a nice, warm Baileys and coffee.

Stokes: Share?

Hood: You’ve literally just downed 6 heart medications.

~Thomas rips his hands out of the snow, feeling the immediate sting. They remain red. The temporary alleviation from the fire all but iced away. He looks at the fire...should he go back? He looks at Claudius. He doesn’t have the time. He grabs the emperor and slings him into the ring. Claudius slides toward the center, on his back. Dylan gets inside and makes a cover...Tuff tumbles into view, with the count~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP!!

Stokes: MY GOD! Maddie! More meds! The palpitations are on the rise. Why do these kids put themselves through this, Claudius might be dead!

Smith: He’s down. But he’s not out!

Hood: Brad or Claudius? Dylan’s hands are fucked.

Smith: Yep, won’t be long before they are useless. If he’s going to win it...he needs to win it now.

~Thomas fires back to his feet. Fighting through the cold, freezing pain. He pulls Claudius up, both men slipping atop the frozen mat. Dylan gets Claudius into position for PERFECT FINISHER (Double knee gutbuster). He tries but can’t keep his footing...the mat is too slick, his hands are too cold. He keeps trying...knowing that if he can hit this, it’s over. He finally manages to get both knees into Claudius’ gut and tries to fall back...but the emperor holds him up! What strength! Claudius lifts Dylan up and carries him into a corner...but the Emperor slips!! The slip results in Dylan landing safely on the top buckle. Claudius staggers back~

Smith: Dylan’s in position to hit something big!

Hood: Fuckin frozen mat! WHAT THE FUCK

Smith: Hey, it’s a Sub Zero Match, Hood. What did you expect?

Hood: A wrestling ring AND mat that fuckin work.

Stokes: Geez, these kids are insane. Madz… meds. Now.

Smith: You got that right!

~Thomas looks at his hands...their usefulness moving forward is highly questionable. They couldn’t even manage to grab Claudius strong enough to deliver his finisher. This might be his last chance to put The Emperor away. Dylan, sitting on the top buckle, tries to climb up to the very top with his feet...but they slip...everything is frozen. He can’t get good footing...so he remains...he stands atop the middle buckle and struggles with his footing...he leaps off with a superman punch!! But Claudius ducks!! Dylan hits the mat, the ice cracking beneath his feet. He turns around and gets kicked in the gut!! Claudius brings him in, hoists him up and drops him with The Gladius (Jumping Piledriver)!!! Dylan’s head SLAMS into the mat!! The impact shakes the mat, breaking the ice free!!! The ice flies into the air, leaving a large amount of sleet/snow on the mat!! Claudius makes the cover...Tuff flips into view, making the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!

Stokes: I don’t believe it.

~The bell rings~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND NEW OCW MASSACRE CHAMPION...CLAUDIUS AUGUSTUS!!!!!

Smith: NO!

Stokes: Madz! More medicine!

Hood: Yes! Finally! The Emperor has gold!

Smith: A true heartbreaker for Dylan.

Stokes: For everyone that was rooting for Dylan Thomas. I HAD MONEY ON THAT MATCH, DAMMIT!

Hood: Tough luck, old man. Dylan Thomas just can’t compete in the cold, man. 0-2 in Sub Zero matches...both losses chalked up to succumbing to the elements.

Smith: Just when you think the rough times for Dylan were over...ugh. Brutal.

Hood: Hey, that’s life in OCW, pal.

~Claudius slides out of the ring...he locates the Massacre Title off the cold, steel floor and tosses it over his shoulder. He looks down at the thick, water resistant material covering his hands and smiles...his eyes slowly shift toward Dylan, who is curled up, trying to stay warm, keeping his hands close. With a sneer, Claudius turns and slowly marches out of the Sub Zero Cube~

Smith: We’ve all known that one big win, one spark could spell disaster for OCW. That is a very, very dangerous man.

Hood: About time some royalty got over around here. HAIL CAESAR!

Smith: Makes me sick.

Stokes: Me too. Don’t Hail Caesar! NO. Dylan Thomas captured our SOULS with his words, at the same time, failing to recapture his title. I don’t feel good about any of this. At. All… Come to think of it, I don’t feel good. Maddie, take me home please.

~Maddie smiles apologetically to Smith and Hood before gripping the wheelchair handles and pushing her father back to the helicopters, behind her trailing along are the various Stokes children~

Smith: And there goes the Stokes Family Dynasty.

Hood: That Brad is something, isn’t he?

Smith: That’s an understatement.

Hood: Practically invented wrestling. Was, probably, the first wrestler ever inducted into the Hall of Fame. And he can, apparently, ingest a million heart pills during a wrestling match without keeling over. Dude is a fuckin legend.

Smith: He’s also extremely capable at reproduction.

Hood: Yep, that Stokes name isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

Smith: Meanwhile...speaking of legacy...Claudius Augustus has been preaching for months. Trying to get his message across. Tonight? Well, tonight he finally broke through with a career defining win.

Hood: That’s the good news.

Smith: You say that like there’s some bad news.

Hood: Well, I mean now he’s obligated to defend that thing every single Massacre.

Smith: Two Massacre Title matches and two Massacre Champions...if that’s a sign of things to come then, well, that division is going to be wild. Alright fans, we’re wrapping things up here...I’m told we have one more segment and then we’re gonna close up for the week.

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Media Availability
Newspaper Excerpts
February 13th, 2023
OCW Monday Night

02:46pm NY Post-Sports
Behind the scenes tonight at Massacre rumors are flying about the Mob. Trying to gather more intel before a formal article. Unclear information at this point.

02:53pm ESPN 8 The Ocho
In other obscure sports news, Nicky Moretti, the mobster has decided to take his show to the OCW? This should be HILARIOUS! The Gangster whose mission is to cleanse the world of the hard Mafia image and show the heart his people are truly made of. Italians without grudges? Mafioso's without tough guy routines? Bold.

03:01pm NY Post-Sports
Sources have confirmed that a former Mafia boss has signed a deal with OCW Management. When asked to sum up the importance of the contract over the phone, head honcho Marcus Welch's office was unavailable for comment immediately following the report.

03:05pm Yahoo Big Baller Brand
NAILS COMING TO OCW!!!

03:47pm NY Post-Sports
Update: Nicholas Moretti confirmed to be the aforementioned Italian Gangster. He did serious time after keeping his mouth shut. He's been out around three years according to court documents. Apparently, the interest from Online Championship Wrestling comes in the form of the gym Moretti founded, behind his resort and casino. Moretti is the President of the Board at the Bermuda, that new development on the old Wynn property in Vegas. The Bermuda Wrestling Club sponsors Nicholas Moretti, and OCW was looking for cash, as usual. More at 7!

05:12pm ESPN 8 The Ocho
This is by farrrrr the drunkest article we have everr published! Okay, top 5...

06:02pm Yahoo Big Baller Brand
Moretti has already announced his participation in next week's Massacre! In a month already filled with The Great Illuminatus and the Big Bifford Discrimination story we had for you first, right here at BBB, February is shaping up to be one of the biggest in OCW HISTORY!

06:43pm Wall Street Journal - Investigative Branch
Crime. A Tradition of blood and torment. Is OCW ready for the bad press that comes with having a Mafia boss operating under their nose? Is Nicky Moretti worth the gamble to get ratings for Marcus Welch? We have key witnesses and never before seen documents that suggest,,, just maybe, the newest talent in OCW is also...

a really nice guy. Full Report online.

07:00pm NY Post-Sports
We don't have any more at 7, we fucking lied to you. Go! Get!

~We cut back to Smith and Hood~

Smith: Nails Moretti...apparently coming to OCW!

Hood: His name is Nails. And his last name is Moretti. I mean, he's gotta be tough, right?

Smith: One would think. Alright fans, that'll do it for this week's episode of Massacre. We've officially crossed the half point threshold of this treacherous month. Next week we will come to you inland...on the coast of Antarctica as several OCW wrestlers will do battle for a very special prize.

~Smith reaches for his earpiece~

Smith: What's that? OH MY!

Hood: What?!

Smith: I've just been informed the winner of next week's Battle Royale will receive...AN OH SHIT CONTRACT!

Hood: OHHHH SHIT!

Smith: The winner of next week's Battle Royale could very easily, very seriously...very SOONLY become the NEXT OCW Champion!

Hood: Geezus. That's like a golden ticket to the OCW Title...if they play it right.

Smith: Holy smokes, folks. The next two weeks are going to go a LONG way in defining OCW's future.

Hood: I'm going to need some of Brad's heart meds.

Smith: We'll see you all next week!

And so, another week has reached its end. Another Massacre tucked away within the historical PROUD AND STRONG book of, umm, history.

A new champion was crowned while THE champion survived. New faces debuting. Rising faces continuing to ascend.

But unease remains. The PROUD AND STRONG remain restless.

It looms.

~We get a shot of a suite located deep within the PROUD AND STRONG cruise ship. A waiter knocks on the door, “MR SYREN, WE HAVE YOUR NEEDLE FULL OF DRUGS”~

THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS is on its way. Legends await their return. Former champions await another shot at glory.

~Another door leading into an opulent suite is shown. Another crew member exits, smiling, “Boy that MJ Bell sure is a sweetheart.”~

Sequestered aboard the PROUD AND STRONG for a month. These warriors are eager to do battle.

One more week to go.

Until.

All hell breaks loose.

THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS is 13 days away.

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