LIVE! February 14th 2022
From Graceland Wedding Chapel
IN Las Vegas, Nevada
~An ad for a TV show begins to play. It’s a remake of ALF! At first, we’re excited because we see the badass, legendary lothario known as ALF on our screen. But, then reality starts to hit as we figure out what the remake entails. It’s a new take on ALF. You see, in this remake ALF isn’t a furry, funny alien at all. Nope, he’s a maligned, angry ELF who’s been persecuted and held down by taller forces. Most notably, the privileged and racist SANTA. It’s an extremely progressive show focused on ELF taking what’s his and lecturing the world on how not to treat others. ELF’s desire is to expose Santa for the narrow minded, oppressive asshole that he is. Can ELF dethrone Santa and alter the way Christmas is celebrated forever? Don’t miss all the laughs and wacky hi jinks as ELF begins airing on THE COCK this Summer! Oof, well that looks fun, I GUESS. Oh, hey, the OCW logo!! It fades into the Massacre logo...which means it’s TIME for some OCW action!! We cut to the streets of Vegas...a street right outside of the Graceland Wedding Chapel. Yes, once again, the ring is set up OUTSIDE. That damn chapel is too small to host an event. Fans line the streets, chanting ‘OCW!’ A bunch of Elvis impersonators stand out front of the chapel, swiveling their hips and singing ‘BURNING LOVE!’ A bunch of discount hookers jump around, able to totally relate to this song. Above it all, on a lifeguard-esque seat/platform is Greta Angelou~
~Greta has never looked better! She crosses her legs and leans forward, arm over her bare breasts. And, of course, her head chopped off by the top of the screen. It’s clear based on her movements that she’s super eager to find out who she’ll be painting the town red with this evening. We shift our focus to Smith and Hood who are across the street in a parking lot...announce table set up~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to another episode of Monday Night Massacre! We are LIVE in Las Vegas, right outside the Graceland Wedding Chapel!
Hood: People say I’ve been inside that place but I can’t remember.
Smith: Uh oh. You might have a wife and some kids running around you don’t know about, Hood!
Hood: And it better fuckin stay that way.
Smith: Fans we are less than TWO WEEKS away from Carpe Noctem and THE GREAT ILLUMINATUS. The Pyramid Scheme Match which will go a long way in determining the course of OCW’s 2022 future and fortune.
Hood: Yea, or, in other words “Congratulations on a stellar 2021, Outcast. We really respect and appreciate your hard work and loyalty. Now, good luck in fighting off EVERY WRESTLER ON THE PLANET to retain your belt.”
Smith: Nobody said being OCW Champion was easy, Hood.
Hood: Yea and they also never said it was impossible.
Smith: As we continue to figure out exactly WHO will compete inside the Pyramid Scheme Match...the evaluation of the roster and talent unfolds before our very eyes. Including a most promising and intriguing main event.
Hood: Okay, now I’ll admit that I’m stoked about this one.
Smith: Bob Grenier introduced Gideon Cross to CLASSIC OCW, BABY at Access Denied and he looks to do the same to another promising newcomer tonight...that newcomer’s name is Kelson Hewitt.
Hood: I haven’t seen OCW so excited about a newcomer since I joined the promotion back in 1999.
Smith: Lies
Hood: Kelson’s getting pushed straight to the main event where it’s feast or famine. He could become a superstar overnight, Smith. But, the dude’s gotta beat one of the greatest wrestlers in OCW history.
Smith: Indeed, if Kelson is able to knock off Bob Grenier tonight then I think it’s safe to say we’ve got ourselves an official OCW star.
Hood: Can’t wait.
Smith: Also, last week we saw the debut of The Cowgirls From Hell! Meghan and Tamika Strader showed up in Roswell to meet with Marcus Welsh and, in doing so, they not only signed with the company but are helping finance OCW during these mysterious times.
Hood: Sounds like that pyramid was only half built. Leave it to a couple of hot ladies to fully erect something.
Smith: Sure. They’ll face Tornado Alley tonight. It seems as though OCW decision makers are eager to get CFH into the Tag Title picture sooner rather than later.
Hood: Lockwoods, CFH, and THE EVIL DRAVERS...man, that division is looking stout.
Smith: Indeed! Plus, many other stars in action...Veronica Strader is back in the ring after her brutal win at Access Denied! As is Dylan Thomas!
Hood: Good to see neither of those two were maimed for life. CLASSIC OCW, BABY
Smith: Zybala looks to rebound with a win...this time facing his nemesis...or, one of his nemesis, ZyBALDa.
Hood: Didn’t ZyBALDa vanish with Poblano? How did they find him?
Smith: I’m not sure. Supreme Machine makes his return to an OCW ring...after his shocking appearance at Access Denied. He’ll face...Batbear.
Hood: Yea, sure, whatever.
Smith: I’m told the logic behind that one is...BRIM defeated a Panther at Access Denied. Can SuMa stop a bear?
Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY
Smith: TLS is back in action against Renee McRae. And, Gideon Cross looks to get back in the win column as he faces a man who throws boulders with pinpoint accuracy...Dane Princeton.
Hood: What a nerd...Princeton. Not Gideon. Gideon’s my boy.
Smith: So much action and it’s all ready to get started! Massacre begins, NOW
~We cut to ‘earlier in the fucking day’ footage. Various OCW backstage crew are standing around, pretending to be earning that paycheck when the cameras pan back to the parking lot where a limousine pulls up. The OCW Faithful don’t recognise it so remain quiet - at least until the doors open. From each side of the limousine step out four recognisable feet. It’s the Dravers twins in very sharp, tailor made suits. They each are chewing gum and look arrogant as fuck. Stepping through the doors, the various members of the backstage crew give them the stink eye but the twins don’t care. They walk past the various OCW backstage crew ignoring them completely. That is until one of them decides to mumble something under his breath~
Jonathan: What?
Nathan: You say something Welfare boy?
~The OCW crew member remains quiet as the twins get closer to him to intimidate him. The crew member cowers in fear as the Dravers boys peer down at him~
Nathan: Yeah. That’s what we thought.
Jonathan: Buuuuuutttttttt…..Just to be safe.
~The twins out of nowhere rear back and **SMACK** lay the guy out with the Seeing Double. They then laugh as they walk away~
~It’s now live as we pan over the OCW Faithful and then take things to Smith and Hood~
Smith: And we’re back! I...I don’t know what to say about those Dravers. Used to be such sweet boys.
Hood: What are you, their granny? Can’t think of a better way to start this show than with the footage we just saw with the Dravers twins!
Smith: They kicked a backstage crew member’s head off!
Hood: I know! Ha! It was awesome! Y’know I always liked those two.
Smith: First Alice Knight last week, Gilbert backstage a few days ago and now one of the backstage crew! Is anyone safe from the new attitude of the Dravers Twins?
Hood: I know! I loved it. I - Wait, Gilbert? Who the fuck is Gilbert?
Smith: He had his debut last week on Equality against Batbear. Kinda.
~The Boys are back by Dropkick Murphy's begins to play....RECORD SCRATCH. The voices of Nathan and Jonathan echo over the speakers. 'There's no need for that anymore!' And then Bad Guy by Eminem kicks in as the OCW Faithful begin to booooooo!!!~
Smith: Speaking of the Dravers twins…..
~At 'it's revenge that I seek', the twins emerge through the crowd and are showered with boos, which they ignore. They look round at the Faithful, with surly looks on their faces. They walk down to the ring with purpose, leap over the top rope and into the ring. They run towards the corner and act like they're going to climb up but don't. Instead, they shake their heads and flip off the OCW Faithful, earning more boos~
Hood: Ha! Love you guys!
Smith: Just what has got into these two?!
Hood: It’s as I’ve said already, the twins are finally growing up! Hell, look, they don’t even have hair dye anymore!
Smith: That’s what made them unique and quirky.
Hood: You are such a nerd. Though I will say it’s gonna be much harder to tell them apart now.
Smith: THAT we can agree on.
Hood: About you being a nerd, or that it’s harder to tell the twins apart?
Smith: ……………..
~The music dies down and the twins have demanded microphones. The OCW faithful boo harshly and the twins soak it all in~
Jonathan: Don’t make out like this is our fault, you bunch of ingrates!
Nathan: You turned on us at Access Denied! Now, pipe down, we have something to say!
OCW Faithful: Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!
Jonathan: All week long…all we’ve been hearing is ‘why Dravers, why?’
~Nathan nods in agreement~
Nathan: Yeah. And it’s like I said, this is all your fault!
~Nathan starts pointing around at random members of the OCW Faithful~
Nathan: This is your fault. And your fault. And your fault………
Jonathan: But more than anyone…. This is Alice Knight’s fault.
OCW Faithful: Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!
Smith: No!
Hood: FUCK YES!!
Jonathan: You see at Access Denied… we saw what kind of woman Alice Knight really is! Keeping a promising young talent like Gideon Cross down so last week, we struck her down before she had a chance to do the same to us!
Nathan: We are only REACTING to what happened….WE are not the bad guys here!!! In fact, each and every one of you should be ashamed of yourselves. Look what YOU and Alice made us do!! We cannot AND WILL NOT be held accountable for last week’s actions. It was totally justified!
Hood: Well….they are right.
Smith: How can you say that?!
Hood: Easy. THEY. ARE. RIGHT.
Jonathan: Which brings me to Guss….. That nerdy little cretin that we kicked the head off of last week. Boy, we know you wuv Alice Knight and that’s fucking adorable. It really is…….
~Nathan whispers in Jonathan’s ear~
Jonathan: I’m sorry. ‘Gilbert’. But we’ve spent enough time around Alice Knight to know that after being around her, you need to do a hell of a lot more than wash your hands. Get me?
~The twins laugh as the OCW Faithful goes nuclear with boos!~
Smith: That’s disgusting!
Hood: Yeah. She is. You’re right, Smith.
Smith: That’s not what I meant!
Jonathan: Gilbert…. As I said last week, someone like you, doesn’t get to call out us, OK?! In fact, next week……find yourself a partner big man….. We’ll kick your head off.
~The twins drop their mics and exit the ring~
~We return to Massacre. We get a view of a fan doing a tequila shot off the body of one of those discount hookers. He sucks the tequila right out of her belly button...he licks the trail of salt up her body before taking the lime from the woman’s mouth! He goes wild, throwing his arms in the air, triumphant! He spits the lime out and we see a cold sore instantly form on his mouth. We cut to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Oh dear.
Hood: Vegas, baby. LOVE IT
Smith: I hope that kid gets that treated QUICKLY. There are some things you experience in Vegas that can’t be left behind.
Hood: Look at you speaking as though you have experience. Only body shot you’ve ever experienced was last night when Leo punched you in the stomach and took your poker chips.
Smith: You just had to bring that up, didn’t you?
Hood: I mean, it was pretty hilarious.
Smith: Whatever. Moving on...fans, it’s time to get the in-ring action started! We’ve got eight matches set for tonight.
Hood: And if we don’t get started quickly, we’ll be here all night. You don’t want to see what a mob of Vegas partiers looks like at 5am, Smith.
Smith: That we can agree upon. Gideon Cross stood up to the challenge and took Bob Grenier to the limit at Access Denied. Tonight, he’s back in action looking to notch his third OCW win. Let’s send it to the ring for our opening contest!
Gideon Cross (2-1) vs. Dane Princeton (0-0)
~We’re JUST getting started here in Las Vegas. The sun is out...but not TOO out. Just kinda out, know what I mean? It’s burning down before fading away. Fans surround the Graceland Wedding Chapel, hopping around, drinking their drinks and smoking all kinds of plant filled cigarettes. Greta Angelou sits atop her throne, staring down on the competition. Her gorgeous body on full display (minus her head, of course). Belvedere enters the ring to a huge ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...it is now time for our first match of the evening!!!
~Everybody goes wild...even the homeless people~
Belvedere: Introducing first…
~Belvedere spins and points toward an Elvis impersonator out front of the chapel. He begins to sing “YA AIN’T NOTHING BUT A HOUNDGOG” as The ‘Efed Ladies Man’ Dane Princeton steps out of a stretch limo~
Smith: And there he is...the man we’ve heard so much about...Dane Princeton.
Hood: I don’t know what an ‘efed ladies man’ is but if THAT’s it...count me the fuck out.
~Dane hurries out of the limo. The driver gets out, yelling about getting paid. Princeton just blows him off and leaves him upon entering the sea of fans. On his way to the ring he yells about throwing boulders with ‘PINPOINT ACCURACY’ and he mentions several times that he’s been out making that ‘real money’. He reaches the ring and has trouble getting his sizable girth onto the apron and under the bottom rope~
Belvedere: Dane Princeton
~Dane manages to finally wedge his ass into the ring~
Smith: About as unenthusiastic as I’ve ever heard Belvedere.
Hood: Can you blame him? That guy is a total loser.
Smith: His last name IS Princeton. You think he attended the esteemed university?
Hood: He might have played as Princeton in a fuckin video game but that’s as close as his ass ever got close to anything ‘ivy league’.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"I'm Better Than You" - by Mickey Avalon ft. Dirt Nasty hits. BOOS from the fans. Gideon’s personalized stretch limo THE ENTERPRISE bullies Princeton’s run of the mill pay by the hour limo that he couldn’t even afford out of the way. Caledon is out first, looking dapper. He steps aside as Gideon emerges to a HOARD OF BOOS. Behind him we see Arabella Evers. Caledon begins to lead the way. Gideon stops, hearing the limo driver yelling. He shakes his head, reaches into his pocket and tosses some money at the driver~
Hood: Look at young Gideon...paying Princeton’s debt. He’s feeding that man’s family, Smith.
Smith: He didn’t have to throw the money at him like that.
Hood: Gideon’s a busy man, Smith. Plus, that limo driver probably has herpes of the phalanges. He’s trying to not get his phalanges covered in herpes.
Smith: Did you JUST learn that word today?
Hood: Herpes? Fuck no, man. I’ve know that word for a LONG time.
~Caledon holds the ropes open for Gideon and Arabella. They both enter. The Vegas crowd continues to boo them until they see him stand near Princeton. Then, well, they aren’t so negative. Caledon rips the mic from Belvedere~
Caledon Young: Ladies and gentlemen being accompanied to the ring by Arabella Evers, he hails from Cross Manor estates and weighs in tonight at an astounding Two-hundred and Fifteen chiseled pounds of pure muscle and stands approximately Six foot Zero inches in an astounding height.. he is "The Brat Prince” he is.. the one the only.. GIDEEEEEEEON CROSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!
~This introduction doesn’t win the fans over...in fact it pushes them back into the ‘okay, fuck this guy’ category. The boos resume. We get a shot at Greta Angelou’s body. She seems to be a-okay with Gideon, so far. We cut back to the ring. Belvedere has exited. Caledon is helping Arabella to the outside while Gideon focuses on Princeton~
Smith: A grand introduction by Gideon’s...man servant?
Hood: His name is Caledon, Smith. GET IT RIGHT
Smith: I apologize to Mr. Caledon’s family.
Hood: He doesn’t have any family, Smith. GET IT RIGHT
Smith: Is that true?
Hood: I dunno
~The bell rings. Dane Princeton leans back in his corner. Shades covering his face, grease stained t-shirt barely covering his gut. Dirty blonde hair remaining perfectly still despite the Vegas breeze...obviously too crusty to bend. Gideon just kinda takes the dude in and sneers, “What a loser.”~
Smith: Is Dane...is he awake?
Hood: I think he’s looking for a boulder.
Smith: I get that throwing boulders with pinpoint accuracy would be deemed an amazing feat IF it were humanly possible...but that implausible skillset doesn’t necessarily translate to wrestling.
Hood: You’re way overthinking this.
~A fan yells at Princeton ‘DO SOMETHING’ and another chimes in ‘OR GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE RING!’ the fans laugh. Gideon steps forward and he gets in Dane’s face. One whiff of his AURA and Gideon steps back and slaps Dane across the face. The fans actually pop. Princeton’s shades fly off his face to reveal the eyes of a moron. He looks up at Gideon, holding his face in an amalgamation of pain and shock~
Smith: I don’t know what Dane was expecting.
Hood: He was waiting for a boulder, Smith. I think Dane’s kryptonite is when he’s without boulder.
Smith: Well that’s bad news for his pro wrestling career.
Hood: You can say that again.
~His pride (what little he has) assailed, Princeton charges at Gideon. Cross, not really too eager to touch the guy, tosses him over with a Japanese Arm Drag!!! Dane struggles to his feet and runs at Gideon...however, Cross reaches his feet WAY before Dane and smacks him in the face with Anointed (Running Bicycle Knee Strike)!!!! Princeton nearly falls to the mat, saved by the ropes. The crack of Gideon’s knee into his chin echoes throughout the entire city of Vegas. Greta leans forward with great interest~
Smith: It seems young Gideon has caught the eye of Greta!
Hood: No shock there. But Greta might have to deal with Arabella IF she picks Gideon.
Smith: That is true...Arabella is in a relationship with Gideon...Arabella is also one of our newest signings. We hope to see her in the ring soon.
Hood: You can’t rush greatness, Smith!
~The ropes shove Princeton off as if they are saying ‘get the fuck off of us’...Dane stumbles forward, Gideon hoists him up, spins around and plants him in the center of the ring with Heir to the Throne (Arn Anderson Spinebuster)!!!! Princeton is out. Gideon stands and places his foot on Dane’s chest. Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner….“THE BRAT PRINCE” GIDEON CROSS!!!!!
~Cross pops to his feet. He stomps on Dane until the boulder throwing madman is out of the ring. Arabella enters and hugs Gideon. Caledon steps in and pats Gideon on the back...the group celebrates while THE ENTERPRISE waits on their return. Greta leans back (her head still chopped off by the screen). She taps her index finger against her knee, as though she’s in great thought. Her other arm continues to cover her breasts~
Smith: An impressive performance by Gideon Cross and a much needed rebound after Access Denied.
Hood: Kid’s a star, Smith. I’ll keep saying it until you all accept it.
Smith: I’m curious as to what will happen IF he wins the night out with Greta.
Hood: If that happens you won’t have to wait much longer for Arabella’s debut. She’ll fight Greta TONIGHT.
Smith: Indeed
~In their magnificent robes, Chard Vargas and Bob Grenier, Collectively known as "WORDS BLURRED BY OCW" are standing by the dumpsters in the parking lot. Bob is smoking a massive joint, as Vargas slams cans of budweiser from a cooler he is carrying. Nearby, Clarence and Samuel are busy slaving away on Vargas and Greniers wrestling gear as they diligently wash them with old fashion washboards in the canal behind the wedding chapel.~
Bob: Can you believe this shit? We can't even say "WORDS BLURRED BY OCW". The name of the most unbeatable tag team in the history of this business. We could always call ourselves "The White Man's League"
Chad: That'll turn some fuckin' heads.
~Bob takes a massive haul from his joint and ponders this~
Bob: We'll settle the name at a later date, Big Bad Chad, Tonight is a big night.
Chad: Your wrestling a fuckin nobody and I'm just here to have a few cold ones.
Bob: Are these choads gonna let us in the building? I got a match tonight and we're locked outside. What the fuck is going on around here?
~Vargas pulls a crowbar from under his robe. He uses the crowbar to pry open the back door to the arena. Clarence and Samuel bring the freshly washed gear ashore~
Bob: You've done that before haven't you?
~They enter and a security guard stops them~
Guard: Sirs, You are prohibited from entering the arena as per state laws regarding promoting hateful imagery and hatespeech and well. We fear your presence may incite a riot. Your both just obnoxious assholes.
Vargas: So you try to lock us out of the goddamn building?
Bob: Samuel! Slap that boy.
Samuel: Yessir, Boss.
~Samuel backhands the security guard with all the force he can muster from his malnourished frame. Bob then snaps his fingers and Samuel produces a massive joint, He places the joint in Bobs mouth and proceeds to light it for him. Bob gives Samuel a couple of Oreos as a reward and he devours the cookies in quick fashion.~
Vargas: You got em' trained up pretty good don't ya?
~They laugh. Clarence then produces a Marlboro and an ice cold beer for Master Vargas and they continue to walk down the hall of the arena. They find an unoccupied dressing room and claim it as there own~
Bob: Did they really think they'd keep us out of the building? I have a major announcement pertaining to next week. I'm in the main event tonight.
Vargas: Not to mention I'm Chad fucking Vargas.
~Bob checks his phone and smirks~
Vargas: What do you keep laughin' at?
Bob: The Ian Bishop GoFundMe has raised $2,318 in less than an hour.
Vargas: The what?
Bob: I just have to make sure that when we break him, Like really batter him, His medical expenses are covered. I'm just doing my part.
~Bob checks his phone again and realizes the GoFundMe has now raised $7,318~
Bob: Ian Bishops GoFundMe just recieved a donation of $5000 from "Nighthawk" out of Knoxville, Tennessee.
Vargas: Yeah, I think that oughta cover a broken neck and maybe an arm or leg. What do you think?
Bob: $5000 should suffice.
~He checks his phone and another $1000 comes in from "LP" from The East Bay. All of a sudden Clarence starts trying to put Chad's wrestling gear on him. Vargas shoves him away, Clarence then tries to remove Chad's boots and Chad shoves him into a wall~
Chad: I.. ain't.. wrestling.. tonight.. dummy..
~He says each world slowly and clearly so Clarence can understand Samuel tries to take off Bob's shirt and he tells him to roll joints instead~
Bob: He's good back on the farm but once our boys get together, They really fuck up a lot don't they?
Vargas: Yeah they do.
~Bob snaps his fingers and is handed a lit joint~
Bob: Next week..
~Bob begins to make an announcement and is interrupted by The Lockwood Party~
Tim: Just wanted to come in here and let the people know, Next week on this program, The Lockwood Party.. We're back!
Jack: Danger Boiz, Where you hiding out at?
Bob: I had this huge announcement for next week.. Then you guys waltz in here and steal my thunder. Next week on this program,, It's Ian Bishop appreciation night! All night long only on Monday Night Massacre!
~Vargas laughs and spills some of his beer.~
Vargas: Ain't nobody celebrating that fuckin goober!
Bob: It would have sounded better if I could have made my announcement first.
Vargas: Why am I even here tonight?
~Bob smokes joints in preparation for his match and Chad again has to fight off Clarence trying to dress him in his wrestling gear. Samuel continues to roll a mountain of joints~
Catch the Replay for the Ultra Low Price of $69.69!!!
~ The OCW camera and the lovely WHO’RE are seen on the nearby street by a big long, and shiny all-black MARATHON COACH tour bus that says COWGIRLS FROM HELL along the side with a large chrome Cow Skull on the front of it. Who’re knocks on the door which then slides open, and she is greeted by TAMIKA STRADER and the fans watching monitors set up along the outside of the Chapel and the street give a cheer. ~
Smith: It seems the Cowgirls are fairly popular with the fans, Hood!
Hood: Well, they are paying our wages which gives them a show to watch. So I don’t know why that surprises you, Smith. They are no Alisa, though.
Smith: Hoot.
~ Tamika smiles, dressed in her ring gear of white boots with black laces, fitted black leather pants, and a black tank top with the CFH skull logo on her chest. ~
Tamika: Who’re, right? Come on in.
Who’re: Yes, and thank you, Miss Strader!
Tamika: Miss Strader is my aunt; you can call me Tamika. You do kinda look like our Aunt Vanessa, though.
Hood: So, their aunt is a slut as well?
Smith: Hood, you better hope they won’t watch this after.
~ Meghan is dressed similarly, but her top is white. Who sits down on the right side of a luxury black leather couch, Meghan on the other end, and Tamika sits down between them. ~
Hood: Ahh, black leather couch, Who’re should feel right at home.
~ Who’re turns to the camera that catches all three women inside the clean version of a Motley Crue-like tour bus, but we don’t recommend grabbing any of these ladies (or others dirtbag) by the vagina. ~
Who’re: Honestly, ladies, it feels so long ago now when Victoria pestered me for a job, so I gave her one on my way out as a “Gotcha” to Welsh but look how that turned out! She is a future star here!
Tamika: Well, don’t let her hear you calling her that name.
Meghan: Well, it’s not her name, right? It’s Veronica.
Who’re: Right, my mistake, ladies. So you decide to come out of retirement, and the first thing ya do is do a favour for “Thunderin” Terry Marshall. You whipped the Party Boyz around, and now you are here in OCW! Why OCW, and what is your ultimate goal?
Meghan: Well, being close to family was one part, but OCW is the place to be. Even through the roughest years here, there is always an elite skill level between the ropes.
Tamika: It’s true. Look at them foolish fools being “wrestling in hanging out the strip club on Friday after a match,” ya know? It’s pathetic, mannnn.
Who’re: That’s great! OCW is awesome! Why did you decide to bankroll Welsh and Zybala?
Tamika: We want a place to be ourselves, and they were willing to give us that. We knew they couldn’t sustain much without Poblino’s money so, give us a place to run over everyone and grab tag team gold; that means something, and we’ll fund OCW. Keep everyone here employed. Aren’t we fucking awesome?
Meghan: Yeah, Meeks. We are pretty awesome.
Tamika: Plus, we get to suck the wind right out of Tornado Alley outside a chapel!
Meghan and Tamika: (sing-songy) Goinnnnnnn’ to the chapel, annnnnnnnnd were gonna get beat up Tornadoooo Alleeeeeey!
~ The Cowgirls do the fist-bump explosion, and the fans outside cheer. ~
Who’re: Stay tuned, OCW Faithful as the Cowgirls From Hell will take on Tornado Alley tonight!
~We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Love their attitudes!
Hood: I guess
Smith: They seem happy to be hear and, well, that's what OCW is looking for. The Cowgirls from Hell will make their in-ring debut later tonight. But, first...
Hood: -leans forward with excitement
Smith: Mike Zybala returns to the ring!
Hood: -throws headset in frustration
Smith: Will ZyBALDa show up? Can Mike get some measure of revenge for everything ZyBALDa has caused? It's Mike Zybala against Mike ZyBALDa and it's next!
Mike Zybala (12-5) vs. Mike ZyBALDa (0-0)
~A gas station casino behind Hood and Smith erupts with cheers. A fan has hit THE JACKPOT. The machine spits out a shit load of nickles. Belvedere pauses in the ring, waiting for the commotion to calm~
Smith: Some lucky fan back there is walking out of here a big winner.
Hood: He’s gambling inside a gas station, Smith. So, I mean, is he REALLY a winner?
Smith: Financially, yes.
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL!
~The group of Elvis impersonators standing in front of the Graceland Wedding Chapel get into position. That familiar beat starts up. They begin to swivel and shake their hips. JAILHOUSE ROCK plays~
Smith: Oh one of my favorites!
Hood: Those guys sound an awful lot like the real Elvis.
~We zoom in on a computer hooked up to some speakers showing the original rendition of Jailhouse Rock playing from Youtube. OH WELL. The Elvis Impersonators continue to dance and lip sync. As they do, the masked, nefarious ZYBALDA emerges from the crowd and marches toward the ring. Fans yell at him ‘YOU’RE GONNA BE DOING THE JAILHOUSE ROCK, ZYBALDA.’ He ignores the jeers and reaches the ring, sliding in~
Belvedere: From the exact opposite of Buffalo, New York. He’s the treacherous, the lecherous, the heinous and...the HAIRLESS
~ZyBALDa goes after Belvedere, but Scruff gets in his way. The fans laugh~
Belvedere: ZyBALDa!!!
Smith: I don’t know what he’s so upset about. His name is zyBALDa. Not like his hairloss is some huge secret.
Hood: He’s just sensitive, Smith. He’s got an image to maintain.
Smith: An image of being BALD.
Belvedere: And, his opp…
~The Elvis impersonators are still going wild~
Belvedere: Ahem, and his opp…
~The Elvis impersonators continue to swivel and sing~
Belvedere: GENTLEMEN!
~They stop in their tracks. Looking up at Belvedere they nod and apologize “Sorry” “Sorry” “Sorry” “So sorry” “Suh-suh-sorry”~
Belvedere: That’s quite alright.
~In unison they reply back “thank ya very much.” Belvedere rolls his eyes~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~DREAMWEAVER starts to the play and the fans go wild! The OCW owner himself, Mike Zybala superkicks his way through the crowd. The fans reach out and pat him on the back. He stops and throws some money in the air...ALRIGHT...now some of these degenerates can head back to the tables. Zybala reaches ringside and looks inside the ring at the masked evil doppelganger~
Belvedere: From Buffalo, New York...standing 5’6 and weighing in at 175lbs...he is the Owner of OCW...he is...Mike Zybala!!!
~Zybala hits the ring! Belvedere exits. The bell sounds. ZyBALDa throws a sloppy clothesline. He spins around and eats A SUPERKICK!!!!! He crumbles the mat!!! The fans go wild!!! “ZYBALA! ZYBALA! ZYBALA!” Mike Zybala covers the evil doppelganger with no hair...Scruff slides in...the entire city of Vegas is on their feet~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings. Vegas goes wild~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...MIKE ZYBALA!!!!!
~Zybala pops to his feet. He looks up at Greta Angelou. He throws her a superkick. She gets goosebumps along the arm that’s covering her boobs~
Smith: Uh oh. Is Zybala number one in Greta’s eyes?
Hood: I think she might be cold.
Smith: I mean, you have to think she’s a little uncomfortable out here without any clothes on.
~Zybala turns and looks down at ZyBALDa. He drops to one knee and reaches for the mask. He looks out at the fans...they yell ‘TAKE IT OFF!’ Some girl in the crowd rips her top off~
Smith: Not you, sweetie.
Hood: Some dad in middle america is about to overdose on pills.
~Zybala RIPS the mask off to reveal...CARL THE CUSTODIAN~
Smith: HEY
Hood: That’s not ZyBALDa.
Smith: It’s Carl the Custodian! OCW’s new and improved janitor.
Hood: And he would have gotten away with it, too...if it weren’t for that pesky Zybala.
Smith: Got away with WHAT?
Hood: I dunno. Just wanted to say that.
~The fans boo. Zybala sands, frustrated, looking down at Carl. Suddenly, from behind, a figure enters the ring. The fans yell. Mike turns around and gets hit in the head with THE OWL STATUETTE!!! He collapses to the mat. Holding the statuette is the real ZyBALDa!~
Smith: It’s ZyBALDa! He’s back!
Hood: And he’s got that owl statue thing...GET IT!
~OCW security floods the ring...but not before ZyBALDa dives through the ropes and sprints through the crowd. Security follows...it’s a mad dash. Welsh and Zybala NEED that statuette. ZyBALDa enters the nearest port-o-potty by ripping the door open and tossing some dude taking a massive piss out. He slams the door shut~
Smith: He’s trapped! Yes!
Hood: Finally, now let’s destroy that statue and rid this place of ZyBALDa, Poblano, and all this owl voodoo crap.
~Security surrounds the port-o-potty. Zybala fights through them, holding the back of his head. He rips the door open...and...IT’S EMPTY. The crowd gasps. Zybala sticks his head in, confused. He gets a whiff inside and quickly pulls it out, slamming the door shut~
Smith: He’s gone!
Hood: Fuck. That’s just great.
~Hands on his hips, Zybala feels a shadow flash over his body. He looks up and sees a giant owl flying overhead. Turning around, he follows it until it seemingly vanishes into the clouds~
Smith: And the visual of an owl flying overhead lingers above as a reminder that Poblano and the owl goddess Ragana remain very much alive in OCW.
Hood: Owls. Fuckin owls, man.
Smith: Who would have thought. The night is still young, folks. We've already seen a middle aged bald man vanish inside a port-o-potty so WHO KNOWS what's in store as the night rolls on. Let's cut to a commercial break...more Massacre when we return!
~We cut to earlier in the week. It’s Vegas. It’s the strip. We’re inside the high roller room at Caesars. Marcus Welsh is at a $500 minimum black jack tables. He’s dealing in yellow ($1000) chips. He’s got a stack of five out for his current bet. He’s the only man at the table. Dealer throws him an Ace. Dealer flips over a six. Dealer throws him six. Dealer tucks his second card. He waits Welsh’s move~
Cocktail Waitress: Your old fashioned, sir.
~Welsh hands her his empty glass and takes the fresh beverage. He’s visibly inebriated. He hands her a twenty five dollar chip. She goes about her way. Welsh takes a sip and eyes his hand. He reaches down and grabs the five remaining yellow chips and slides them out~
Marcus Welsh: Double down.
Dealer: Doubling down.
~The pit boss slides in from the back to observe. Dealer throws Welsh a five~
Marcus Welsh: Ugh.
~He’s sitting with a 12. Hoping like hell the dealer busts. The dealer flips a five under his six~
Marcus Welsh: Son of a bitch.
~Dealer’s got an 11. He throws down another five. Welsh perks up~
Marcus Welsh: C’mon. Bust. Let’s go!
~The Dealer pulls a card and throws down a...five. That gives the dealer 21~
Marcus Welsh: Uggggghhhhhhh
~The Dealer reaches out, taking Welsh’s 10k. He leans back, sipping on his drink. He thinks for a moment before tossing his player’s card on the table~
Marcus Welsh: Marker. Give me another marker.
~The Pitboss overhears~
Pitboss: Another? This will be your fifth.
Marcus Welsh: I told ya. I’m good for it. I’m good for it.
~Behind Welsh we see OCW rising star Gideon Cross enter the high roller room with Arabella Evers on his arm. He sees the very drunk Welsh at the blackjack table and makes his way over to say hello to the boss~
Gideon Cross: Sir.
~Welsh is a bit delayed in his reaction. But he finally turns his head around to catch Gideon take the chair to his right. He smiles and motions toward the bar~
Marcus Welsh: Gideon, MY MAN. Would you like a drink?
~Cross has no response, taking stock of the situation. He leans back and whispers to Arabella~
Gideon Cross: Why don’t you go play that machine you like over there. I’ve gotta talk with Welsh about a few things.
~She doesn’t protest or ask any questions. She heads toward a machine in the high limit room. While passing Marcus, she pats him on the back~
Arabella Evers: Good to see you, sir.
Marcus Welsh: And you, too! We gotta get you in the ring!
~Welsh’s voice is a little loud and aggressive but, he’s drunk. The Pitboss slides the form across the table for Welsh to sign, taking out another marker. Gideon’s hand blocks it from reaching Welsh~
Marcus Welsh: Hey!
Gideon Cross: Sir, do you really want to take out another marker? The interest on these things is ridiculous.
Marcus Welsh: Are you trying to tell me what to do?
~Cross sighs and looks at Welsh as if to say, ‘Relax’. He reaches into the pocket of his blazer and pulls out a wad of cash. He slaps it down and slides it in front of Welsh. Welsh eyes the cash with the hunger of a thousand starving humans~
Gideon Cross: That should cover you for...well, the rest of tonight, hopefully.
Marcus Welsh: That’s a lot of money, Gideon. What’s the interest?
Gideon Cross: No interest.
~Welsh looks over at Gideon. Even in his inebriated state, he knows there’s GOT to be a catch. There’s ALWAYS a catch~
Marcus Welsh: What do you want in return?
~Gideon smiles and we cut away~
Smith: Weird. What do you think Gideon wanted in return?
Hood: Probably Alice Knight’s destruction.
Smith: Well, in that case, I hope Welsh turned him down!
Hood: Please. He was drunk and spiraling at a black jack table...there’s NO WAY he turned down ‘free’ money.
Smith: I’m sure we’ll find out exactly what type of deal was struck in the very near future. In the meantime, we’ve got more in-ring action heading our way.
Hood: Oh? What we got?
Smith: Tag team action! The new financiers of OCW are set to make their in-ring debut!
Hood: …
Smith: Hood, choose your words carefully.
Hood: yay hooray can’t wait
Smith: That’s the spirit! Meghan and Tamika are on deck, teaming against Tornado Alley! Will this begin an ascension to the OCW Tag Titles? Many people think so! Let’s see how they fare!
Cowgirls From Hell (0-0) vs. Tornado Alley (0-0)
~ “Respect the Wind” by Van Halen hits before the Elvis Impersonator’s can begin. They lower their heads and slump their shoulders. VERY SAD ELVIS MOMENT. Vortex heads to the ring, spinning around with his arms extended. Debris follows, dropping trash out of his pockets. They reach the ring and slide in, reaching their feet and continuing the act~
Belvedere: The following contest is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first...Vortex and Debris...Tornado Alley!
~Vortex continues spinning. Debris continues following and dropping trash. Scruff sighs and follows them, kicking the trash out of the ring~
Smith: Tornado Alley returning to OCW Television.
Hood: First tag match on Massacre in 2022!
Smith: Indeed. The tag division is on fire after Access Denied. The tag title match between The Dravers and Danger Boiz has lit up the industry. It’s a strong, early candidate for OCW match of the year.
Hood: And now we’ll get a look at this tag team I’ve heard SO MUCH ABOUT.
Smith: The Cowgirls From Hell carry a tremendous reputation upon arrival. There is no doubt that they will get their shot at the OCW Tag Titles sooner rather than later.
Hood: I mean, sure...unless they lose tonight.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~Burn it Down – AWOLNATION hits! The fans rise with great anticipation. Even Greta Angelou stands, keeping her arm over her breasts...and her face remaining cut off by the top of the screen. The loud engines of motorcycles add to the ambiance of ‘Burn it Down’ playing throughout the Vegas night sky. Tamika and Meghan ride their bikes to the ring, carefully through the parted sea of fans. Reaching the ring, they both stop and rev the engines a bit before each raising a fist into the air. The fans go wild~
Smith: Those are some loud motorcycles!
Hood: Every motorcycle is loud, Smith. Unless you’re talking about those really stupid ones that sound like a fuckin blender.
~Meghan and Tamika kill the engines and hop off. They hustle up the steps and enter into the ring. They take opposite corners and hop onto the middle buckles, throwing their arms in the air~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 290lbs...please welcome to OCW and its tag team division...Tamika and Meghan Strader...the Cowgirls From Hell!!!
~HUGE ovation. Tamika and Meghan take it in...their eyes looking out at the crowd and out onto the Vegas horizon...the strip popping in the distance. Might be some partying over there shortly. They hop off the buckles and head into their corner. Meghan takes the apron. Tamika hops around, loosening up. Vortex takes the apron, giving Debris the starting nod. Belvedere exits and Scruff motions for the bell. It rings~
Smith: And here we go! The Cowgirls From Hell in action for the first time right here in OCW!
Hood: So we’ve got owners and financiers as active competitors on the roster?
Smith: Yes.
Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY
~Tamika approaches Debris. Debris meets her in the center of the ring. She extends a hand, a show of good sportsmanship while also, probably, trying to project a good image as a financier. Debris looks at the hand and he reaches into his pocket...he removes a used bag of In-N-Out and throws it in her face. The fans respond with a very loud ‘OOOOOOHHHHH’. Vortex claps and cheers, ‘THERE YOU GO, DEBRIS!’~
Smith: Not sure that was the wisest move.
Hood: His name is Debris, Smith. That’s literally his gimmick...throwing trash all over the place.
Smith: But not in the face of his opponent.
Hood: Why not? That’s probably the best use of his gimmick, to be honest.
~Tamika looks up at Debris...and, well, any goodwill or pleasant exchange has been discarded. She lunges forward with some forearm strikes, staggering Debris into the ropes. She whips him off the ropes, he sprints across the ring, hits the opposite ropes, bounces off and eats a Spinebuster!!! He hits hard, arching his back in pain. Tamika pops back to her feet, fired up~
Smith: All that trash move did was fire Tamika up!
Hood: Maybe she owns stock in In-N-Out and she was really pissed to see the brand disrespected on tv like that.
Smith: I doubt it, Hood.
~Debris stumbles to his feet, stunned. Tamika grabs him, hooks him and throws him over her head and into his team’s corner with an Exploder Suplex (Vroom Vroom Muthaducka)!!!! Debris hits hard and slides to the mat, upside down, landing on his head. Vortex reaches in, tagging in by slapping the leg of his partner. Tamika backs up and reaches out, Meghan tags herself in to the cheers of the fans~
Smith: And here comes Meghan Strader...the mother of TransAtlantic Champion, Veronica Strader
Hood: How does it feel being placed lower on the card than your daughter, eh?
Smith: You want her to authorize your next paycheck?
Hood: Err, I mean, you must be so proud over how AWESOME your daughter is.
~Vortex extends his arms and spins toward Meghan. But, Meghan ducks his ‘attack’. He hits the corner and looks up...Tamika elbows him in the face. He stumbles back...Meghan spins him around, she hooks his head, turns facing her team’s corner, runs up it, flips over and drops Vortex with an Acid Drop (Vengeance)!!!! He’s down!!! Meghan pops up and reaches out, tagging Tamika back in. Tamika leaps up onto the top rope~
Smith: Uh oh...The Cowgirls From Hell are looking to end this one early!
Hood: Why not? I’m sure they’ve got a busy night planned.
Smith: We are in Vegas.
Hood: Plus, don’t want to leave those bikes out there unattended for too long. Knowing the kind of fans we’ve got...they’re likely to be stolen or pissed on.
Smith: Goodness! I hope not!
~Meghan pulls Vortex up and she slips behind him. She ducks and hoists him onto her shoulders. Tamika leaps off the top rope and flies through the air, clotheslining Vortex off of Meghan’s shoulders!! He flips over, landing front first on the mat with a huge SPLAT! The fans go wild!! Meghan spins around, watching while Tamika rolls over Vortex over and makes the cover. Scruff slides in as the fans count along~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners...COWGIRLS FROM HELL!!!!!
Smith: Impressive win! The Cowgirls from Hell wasted NO time in dispensing of Vortex and Debris.
Hood: Love that finisher...do your job, Smith. What’s it called?
Smith: Cemetery Gates!
Hood: Appropriate. Worst part of all this for Tornado Alley is the sun hasn’t even gone down yet and they’re already knocked out. Vegas, man.
Smith: The Cowgirls From Hell look as strong as ever! There’s some injury concerns but if you were to judge them based off this performance, it looks as though they are as healthy as can be.
Hood: Yea but, seriously, let’s all chill the fuck down. We’ll see how healthy they are when they face The Dravers or The Lockwoods...or the tag champs. Give them some real competition.
Smith: Word on the street is that we may see one or BOTH of these women inside The Great Illuminatus.
Hood: There ya go! Let’s see if they can walk in there AND walk out. If so, then you’ll have me buying into the hype.
Smith: Regardless, they look as good as anyone could have hoped in their debut! Tremendous win for Meghan and Tamika Strader!
~ Who’re stands with our OCW Trans-Atlantic Champion, Veronica Strader, who is already in her ring gear and ready to go with the beautiful white expensive leather TA championship belt fastened around her waist. Her hair is in a rare ponytail as she hates them outside of the squared circle. Roxxie G, Marcy The Headmistress and former TPW Play by Play Madison Addison are standing behind her. Chuck is in the arms of Madison with his little face smiling, resting on her chest.
Hood: Take a look at the Bewb Squad there, Smith.
Smith: Hood! *shakes his head* Her entourage is only getting bigger!
Hood: Went up a whole new cup size!
Who’re: It’s me again, your friendly Neighborhood Who’re! I am certainly popular being requested by both CFH then our Trans-Atlantic Champion! Veronica, how are you?
Veronica: I wish TLS would quit this game of hide and seek!
Who’re: You’ll get used to it. So tonight, you face off against Victoria’s ex-girlfriend. Has this been a long time coming?
Veronica: Yes, definitely. She has skated by since she and Victoria’s grandfather got together, and we were lucky enough not to have to deal with her when he tragically met his maker.
~ Not even a flinch. ~
Veronica: I was willing to let her suffer in her own self-pity, losing the Cowgirls From Hell as mentors, her career taking a nosedive, not being to catch a win in over a year. That trend? It continues tonight when I put Mad Max down in the centre of the ring for the One. Two. Three.
Who’re: Good luck tonight, Veronica. I speak for all when I say I hope you gain vengeance for Victoria tonight and that you eventually find The Lost Stranger!
Veronica: Thanks, Who’re!
~ Veronica walks off the screen, followed by her entourage, the camera pans to the other side revealing TLS. He stands motionless. ~
Smith: There he is.
Hood: Probably standing there the whole time. Typical women, not looking around.
Smith: Will TLS pick Veronica Strader OR will he go with PerZag? We seem to be getting more questions than answers.
Hood: I guess...I mean the dude is just standing around. Maybe he was pondering today's Wordle puzzle.
Smith: I don't think so, Hood. He's playing mind games and, hopefully, Veronica has learned enough int his business to not fall prey to the distractions TLS throws her way.
~We cut to earlier in the week. A man that looks an awful lot like Hood stands at a bar inside Caesar’s Palace, waiting on a drink. Next to him stands a woman that looks an awful lot like ALICE KNIGHT. Drinks are served. Money exchanges hands. The two turn around to reveal themselves as...Hood and his girlfriend, ALISA. They take a sip and head through the casino~
Hood: Ah, what a delicious beverage.
Alisa: This sure has been a great Valentine’s Day Weekend, Hoodie.
~Hood’s eyes bug. He looks around to see if anybody heard. He leans in~
Hood: Babe, in public, call me Hood.
Alisa: Oh, sorry.
~She looks around before saying quite loudly~
Alisa: HOOD
~Hood smiles. A few men look their way. They spot Alisa and make some comments~
Guy: Damn
Man: Whoa
Dude: Smokin!
~Hood and Alisa walk by all the male admirers. Beaming with pride, he says~
Hood: Take it in, gentlemen. That’s right. Drink her in, boys. She’s one of a kind.
~Alisa blushes~
Hood: And, she’s all mine.
~A dude seated at a video poker machine looks over and is taken by Alisa’s appearance~
Machine Dude: Whoa...is that ALICE KNIGHT?
~Record scratch. Hood stops and turns, staring at the dude~
Hood: What the FUCK did you just say?
~Hood goes straight for the dude. On his way, he grabs the metal arm of a slot machine and rips it right off, preparing to use it as a weapon to murder the man. The dude looks up at Hood with wide eyes as we cut away. We are back live with Smith and Hood~
Smith: What do you have to say for yourself, Hood?
Hood: The beating I gave him hopefully corrected his vision.
Smith: That beating also cost this company quite a bit of money. The Cowgirls From Hell are generous but they aren’t stupid. Another move like that and you could find yourself in the unemployment line.
Hood: He insulted my girlfriend, Alisa! I had to defend her honor, Smith. Otherwise, what kind of man would I be?
Smith: He merely…
~Smith sees Hood is about to explode~
Smith: Ya know what, never mind. Just try not to assault fans of the promotion in the future.
Hood: Fine.
Smith: Good enough. Alright fans, he returned to OCW at Access Denied and scored a huge win over Erin Gordon. Since, he's been playing mind games with both Veronica Strader and PerZag. Tonight, he's back in the ring. The Lost Stranger is next!
The Lost Stranger (4-2) vs. Renee McRae (0-0)
Belvedere: The following match is scheduled for one fall!
~ The Elvis impersonators start singing the French National Anthem as the fans are unsure of the Rambo-looking mother fucker steps out from the Chapel, the vegetable oil very close to dripping off his body.~
Belvedere: He weighs something but we aren’t sure what because he kept slipping off the scale...
~ Renee salutes the Elvis Impersonators, wiping away oily tears of his “home” country's anthem. He starts towards the ring. ~
Belvedere: Hailing from New Jersey, France...
~ Renee goes to grab the top rope but slips and falls on his ass, and the fans laugh. He shakes it off and slides into the ring but almost comes out the other side with a large skid mark of oil across the grey mat making it very visible. ~
Belvedere: RENEE MCRAE!!!!
Smith: I feel like the body oil is excessive.
Hood: Maybe he got tips from Mack O’Connor about how to make prison-life more comfortable.
Belvedere: And his opponent...
~ The Elvis Impersonators have acoustic guitars and start to play The Police’s “Every Breath You Take” in that beautiful Elvis twang. TLS doesn’t appear out of the Chapel entrance but it doesn’t phase anyone. ~
Belvedere: Weighing in at two-hundred-thirty-five pounds...
~ Still no TLS, but people are really getting into the Elvis Impersonators and haven’t noticed yet. ~
Belvedere: Hailing from Parts Unknown... THE LOST STRANGER!
~ Again, still no TLS but a loud commotion from down the street now has captured the peoples' attention. ~
Smith: Where’s TLS?
Hood: Who cares, I wanna know what’s going on down the way!
~ The camera takes to a man in a car talking to a Vegas Hooker. ~
Man: I wanna fuck you in the ass!
Woman: Stick it up your own ass, asshole!
Man: HAHAHA! I would if I could... biiitch!
~ The man speeds off and the fans laugh, and we return to the ring TLS is there but something seems off. ~
Smith: Why is TLS wearing oilfield gloves, boots, and kneepads?
Hood: Better question is why is he laying down on his back in the middle of the ring?
~ DING DING DING ~
~ McRae turns around and is taken back by TLS laying in the middle of the ring. He cautiously walks over to the mythical character. He is unsure. ~
Hood: Pin him stupid! He obviously slipped on your oily discharge and is out cold!
Smith: He’s wearing big Dunlop non-slip boots as they use on the drilling rigs, I doubt he slipped. Plus he has oil-resistant gloves on.
~ McRae eventually shrugs and goes to pick him but TLS is suddenly alive and SCHOOL-BOY ROLL UP! ~
1!
2!!
3!!!
~ DING DING DING~
Belvedere: And here is your winner... TLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Smith: Classic TLS
Hood: Even against inferior mental competition he still feels the need to trick them. Should we just call him THE TROLL?
Smith: I'm not sure he'd like that, Hood.
Hood: He could be one, Smith. I can't ever recall seeing his face. Hmm, we might need to investigate this.
Smith: Yea, have fun with that. TLS with another impressive win as he looks like he's returning to his 2015 form. Could this be the year TLS finally reaches the top of OCW? He's got the talent to do just that.
~ Veronica Strader appears on the screen, followed by just Madison this time. Roxxie and Marcy took Chuck to the casino in hopes the little guy could cause a distraction and make some easy money; the condo fees of the Condo/Penthouse Vee gave the Equality stars weren’t exactly cheap. Vee approaches the CFH giant tour bus and knocks on the door. Tamika answers. ~
Tamika: Veronica, what’s up, homeskillet?
Veronica: Tamika, hi. Not much; match coming up soon, but I have been looking for The Lost Stranger. Have you seen him by any chance?
Hood: He literally JUST wrestled!
Smith: Quiet, Hood. She's obviously too busy preparing for her match later tonight.
Hood: Whatever.
~ Tamika motions for the two women to come in. ~
Tamika: Come in, something you should see.
Veronica: Something I should see? Yeah, all right.
~ We follow Vee and Maddie walk up the steps and are greeted by Meghan. Meghan goes to hug her daughter but stops herself and places a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. ~
Meghan: Ready for Maxine tonight?
Veronica: Born ready. Good job on your debut tonight. You made pretty easy work of Debris and Vortex.
~ Tamika curls her lip, being extra with her nodding. ~
Tamika: Yeah, like a couple of G’s, yo.
~ Maddison laughs. Meghan motions for them to sit on the couch. They do, and Meghan walks to the blacked-out bar, reaches under and pulls out a bouquet of black roses. She walks over and hands them to Veronica. Vee nods her head towards Madison, who takes it. ~
Veronica: For me? You shouldn’t have.
Meghan: Well, they aren’t from us, but they are for you. I guess the lack of dressing and locker rooms made us the go-to choice. There is a card.
~ Veronica raises her brow, sifts through the roses on Madison's lap and pulls out a card. ~
Veronica: Heh. This guy, he’s something else. Thanks, ladies.
~ Madison and Veronica stand up, and they nod at CFH before they walk out of the CFH Tourbus. Tamika puts her arm around her big sister and looks at her as Meghan stares blankly at the front of the bus. ~
Tamika: She’ll come around. I mean, she showed up at our bus. It’s a start.
Meghan: Yeah, I guess. Let’s find Zybala and Welsh. Find out what the plan is for next week.
~We cut to commercial break~
~We cut backstage where we see Dylan Thomas, Perfection Personified himself, warming up before his match, running up and down a stairwell. Lissandra counts how many ‘laps’ he does as he goes~
Lissandra: 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30! Not bad, baby.
~Dylan stops at the bottom of the stairs and the A-List couple share a kiss~
Dylan: We still need to find out who threw in the towel in the Sub-Zero match at Death March.
Lissandra: Yes, I know. I’ve still got my best people on it…
Dylan: Did Mike come up with anyone?
Lissandra: Mm. No. Well if he has, he hasn’t said just yet.
~It is then that Dylan and Lissandra notice the camera. They smile~
Dylan: Vee Strader. I know you can hear this, so I’ll get straight to the point. I heard your comments last week on Massacre, saying that I was your most difficult opponent that you’ve faced thus far. I must say the same though, about you. I’m still aching from those nails down my back…
~Dylan pauses with a smile~
Dylan: But Strader anytime you wanna dance the dance again, you know where to find me.
~Dylan winks at the camera as we fade out~
Smith: Wars breed respect and it appears a bond has formed between Dylan and Veronica after what they went through at Access Denied.
Hood: That was a fucking epic battle.
Smith: We could very likely see a rematch down the line. However, on an equally interesting note...someone threw the towel in on Dylan Thomas back at Death March ruining his chance to retain the Craze Title. That person remains unidentified.
Hood: The guy should really come forward and be commended for saving Dylan's life.
Smith: I think he remains in hiding...
Hood: OR SHE
Smith: Yes, OR SHE...THEY remain in hiding because they know Dylan is going to take major issue with their act. But, the truth ultimately surfaces and I'm sure we'll all find out who cost Dylan the Craze Title at Death March very soon. In the meantime, he's ready to return to the ring and turn his focus toward his next crowning achievement. Dylan Thomas is in action and it's next!
Dylan Thomas (10-5) vs. Middle Finger Man (0-0)
Belvedere: Our next match is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~ The sound of glass shattering is heard is followed by a MIDI version of a well-known guitar riff but Zybala doesn’t need any cease and desists on YouTube from Connecticut. Middle Finger Man walks out from the wedding chapel, fists held high, fingers completely erect!
Belvedere: He is the arch nemesis of the one and only DICK BRAIN…
~ MFM struts down to the ring banging his around like he has severe Tourette’s and slides into the ring wagging his head side to side to Belvedere who shakes his head when MFM hits the corners to flip off the crowd. On purpose, or not? We’ll never know. ~
Belvedere: He is… THE MIDDLE FINGER MAN!
Hood: Smith, did I hear Belvedere right… MFM’s arch nemesis is Dick Brain?
Smith: Yes you did, Hood.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
Belvedere: And his opponent!
~'Watch Me Shine' by Fozzy starts up and Dylan Thomas emerges through the Chapel Entrance arm in arm with his wife Lissandra Thomas. Both have a huge air of arrogance about them. The street is FILLED with cheers at these two~
Belvedere: weighing in at two hundred and twenty five pounds…
~They make their way to the ring with huge smirks on their faces and Dylan helps Lissandra up onto the apron, holding the ring ropes open for her. She climbs through and kisses her man as she does so~
Belvedere: hailing from Los Angeles, California accompanied by the intoxicating LISSANDRA!!!
~In the ring, Dylan salutes the fans whilst on the nearest corner and Lissandra stays in the ring showing off her man, applauding~
Belvedere: he is the former Craze Champion… DYLAN THOMAS!!!
~As the music dies down, Dylan helps his wife out of the ring before eyeing MFM across the ring~
Smith: This is Dylan’s first match up since ACCESS DENIED!
Hood: Looks like those syringe marks are healing nicely, think he’s had any cravings for DRUGS?
~DING DING DING~
~ Dylan rolls his shoulders, cracking his neck, as he moves into a collar and elbow tie up, but it’s for MFM to keep a grip with just middle fingers on his hands. Dylan slides his arm around MFM’s head taking him into a headlock, and wrenches hard on the bald head of MFM. He runs forward and brings the man down hard with a bulldog. The fans on the Vegas street cheer loudly for the 2021 Face of the Year. ~
Smith: Nice bulldog from Thomas!
Hood: I’m just glad that BULLBITCH Alice isn’t here.
Smith: Hoot!
Hood: ... I hate you.
~ Dylan stands back letting MFM stand back up. MFM looks mad and runs at Dylan going for a Lou Thesz Press but Dylan side steps him. MFM smacks his nubs again the mat and is back up quick. Another Collar and Elbow tie but Dylan knees the bastard in the gut and hits a double knee gut buster~
Smith: PERFECT FINISHER!!!
~ Dylan makes the cover. ~
1!
2!!
3!!!
~ DING DING DING ~
Belvedere: and your winner... DYLAN THOMAS!!!!!!!
Smith: Tremendous win for Dylan Thomas as he looks as strong as ever.
Hood: You think he impressed Greta Angelou?
Smith: I'm sure he did BUT I doubt he'll be enjoying a night out with Greta because...
Hood: Because he's insecure about the wounds on his back from Access Denied?
Smith: No, Hood! Because he's happily married!
Hood: Pssh, like that ever stopped anybody from having a good time in Vegas.
Smith: Ugh. Your words disgust me. Dylan Thomas with an impressive bounce back performance! He looks primed to be a major contender within The Great Illuminatus!
~We cut to a scene from earlier in the day as we see the number 42 written on a door in front of us. Presumably that means we may be in a hotel somewhere, but as to ensure that no fans try to find the hotel, we only see the inside. A reporter comes into view, a microphone in hand, and he knocks on the door to room 42. After a few moments the door opens up to reveal none other than PerZag. He sticks his head out of the door to see who it is and upon seeing the reporter, he opens the door up the rest of the way~
PerZag: Ah, yes, I was expecting you. A little bit earlier than expected, but it is good to get this out of the way.
Reporter: Yes, sorry, traffic wasn’t that bad, so we got here a bit quicker than expected. Apologies for that. May we begin.
~PerZag nods his head and steps out the door, shutting it behind him~
PerZag: Yes you may.
Reporter: Perfect. Well, this won’t take too long. We have only got a few questions for you. So, firstly, do you have any intentions on turning up to Massacre tonight? You have no match scheduled, so do you have any plans for the show?
PerZag: I don’t know. As you said, I don’t have a match. I really don’t have any reason to be there tonight. Nobody there is truly WORTH my time right now. So, we’ll see. Maybe I will just get you to send this in when we’re done.
Reporter: Yes, of course, I will be much obliged in doing that. But, the second question I have, what about The Lost Stranger?
~A smile appears across the face of PerZag as the reporter mentions him~
PerZag: Ah, yes, The Lost Soul or Lost Stranger or whatever the fuck his name is. You see, I’ve been asked this question a few times this week, and to be honest………. WHY?
Reporter: Well, because he…………………
~Before the reporter has a chance to finish, PerZag cuts him off.
PerZag: Attacked me?
~The reporter nods his head~
PerZag: Think about this for a second. Think about Veronica Strader’s promo from last week and then think about mine. She was hell bent in getting The Last Soul to pick her. Her whole promo was about him. That’s all she talked about. Whereas I didn't say a single word about him. You wanna know why?
~The reporter nods his head again~
PerZag: It didn’t bother me. That’s why. It honestly didn’t do a damn thing to affect me. He just took an opportunity where he saw fit. It’s not like he injured me or bruised me or anything. He just hit me and stared at the Crave Championship. I was back up, title in hand and out the back within a minute. It was honestly, pretty pathetic.
So, I didn’t need to have a hissy fit about it or anything. I mean, maybe I have just grown up. He saw an opportunity and he took it. That’s it. I mean if Strader wants him so badly, she can have him. There are many WORTHIER opponents for me to fight instead.
Reporter: A very bold statement there. I have one last question, and it is about something you said before. Your promo from last week. You talked about people proving their worth to you. What does that entail? And secondly, have you had any takers?
PerZag: No, I have not had anybody talk to me just yet. And as to what it entails, well let me put it this way. There are athletes out there that are wanting to prove themselves. That are wanting to prove that they have what it takes. I was there once, wanting to prove myself. I wanted to prove to everybody that I truly was The Worthiest of Them All. And I did, and it wasn’t without aid.
Whether it was people by my side or across the ring, I learnt the craft and I truly became The Worthiest of Them All. Capped it all off with a big title win in 2017. I proved my WORTH then. And then I came back here, last month and proved my WORTH all over again. I destroyed Ed Houston within a couple of minutes. And this is after not wrestling for nearly a year. And I defeated him with ease.
Out there, there are people trying to prove themselves in this industry every day. Whether it is Chad Vargas trying to win back the OCW Title or Outcast trying to hold onto it. Or Strader trying to prove that she is a fighting champion or Alice Knight trying to prove she isn’t a waste of space. Or the Dravers, just last week, proving that they don’t need Alice Knight anymore. And that’s just some of the people within this company.
There are many out there, outside of it that need a break. That need to prove something. And that’s why I am telling everybody out there, to come to me. To show me what you’re made of. To step in that ring with me and prove yourself. Everybody needs help in this industry. I was lucky to have Scott Syren and that took me to championship glory and the Hall of Fame.
Everybody out there has something to prove and to those who are struggling to find IT, come to me. Show me what you’ve got. Show me what you’re made of. Fight me in the ring, ask me for critique, either way, until you do that, you will never………………
PROVE YOUR WORTH!
~As PerZag finishes his newly found slogan, the door opens up behind him and a woman’s voice is heard from inside~
Woman’s Voice: PerZag? Someone’s on the phone.
~PerZag looks through the gap in the door and nods his head towards the woman, he then turns back to look at the reporter~
PerZag: That’s gonna be it, I have got to take this call.
~PerZag turns around and walks back into his motel rooms, shutting the door behind him. The reporter turns to the camera~
Reporter: Abe, make sure you send that to OCW. I want to be seen on live television.
~And with that the footage cuts out~
~A large image approaches from the darkness. The ground seems to move in a very strange and abnormal manner. Smith’s voice sounds out through the darkness~
Smith: He’s joined The Family! He’s just made OCW’s most dominant faction THAT MUCH stronger!
Smith: This man is one of the most dominant physical forces we’ve seen in quite some time.
Smith: He’s one victory away from competing for the OCW Title!
Smith: He shows no mercy, Hood. Absolutely none.
Smith: Ugh, I’m sick. This man, this ROACH has absolutely decimated our dear Alice.
~The figure steps into a beam of light revealing his identity. It’s ROACH! And, the ‘moving’ ground is merely a bunch of roaches scrambling around at his feet. He leans forward and stares into the camera~
~We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: I’m glad he’s back. I just hope he keeps his hands off of Alice.
Hood: Last time he returned he put her in a helmet for like 9 months. LOVE ME SOME ROACH
Smith: Regardless, Roach has the talent to win The Great Illuminatus should he decide to enter. Another major player has returned.
Hood: PROUD AND STRONG
Smith: A major player joining a board already flush with vital chess pieces. And, no piece is more vital than the one stepping through the ropes next. Veronica Strader was an initial member inside the walls of the PROUD AND STRONG OCW. She’s run up an undefeated record and stands tall with her TransAtlantic Championship.
Hood: Hey, I’ll admit. She’s killing it.
Smith: Tonight is her first match back since Dylan nearly put her on the shelf for several months. How will she look? Well, let’s find out! Veronica Strader faces her former lover in her first match back since defending her title in a match of the year candidate! To the ring!
Veronica Strader (8-0) vs. Mad Max (0-0)
~The sun is beginning to set. But there’s JUST ENOUGH light outside for natural visibility! These fans continue to drink and rock with some street music keeping them entertained during intermissions. Belvedere is back in the ring which signals we’re about to get rad...once more~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is scheduled for one fall!
~He pauses as the camera zooms in on the Elvis Impersonators. They scream into their mics “WELL SINCE MY BABY LEFT ME” and off we go with HEARTBREAK HOTEL! The inebriated fans jam to the song...a few reach for their hearts, tearing up at the lingering memories of heartbreak. And, on cue, Mad Max enters the picture, heading to the ring~
Smith: And here comes Mad Max...the former lover…
Hood: Rug muncher?
Smith: HOOD! This is 2022!
Hood: What? I’ve heard she chews on the rug at her house. Did you think I meant...oh man, no way!
Smith: You’re not fooling me, Hood. Please keep the slanderous words off our television program.
~Mad Max is sporting leather and spikes. She heads up the steps and enters the ring looking very much but not really at all like Mel Gibson from that movie in the 80s~
Belvedere: Introducing first...Mad Max!!!
Smith: Mad Max looks fierce.
Hood: I thought jobbers were supposed to be goofy and weak. This bitch looks like she eats lead and shits bullets.
Smith: I don’t know what to make of that analogy.
~The Elvis Impersonators continue to croon and wail. Mad Max glares at them...one by one they see the STARE OF DEATH. And, one by one, they cease their singing until the final Elvis continues on, eyes shut. The others clear their throats and tap him on the shoulder, tentatively. When that doesn’t work, one of them yells out, “KING 2!” He stops and looks...the point at the voracious glare coming from Mad Max. He swallows hard and ceases the singing~
Smith: Mad Max isn’t much for the singing. I think she wants to get her hands on Veronica.
Hood: Haha, yea she does!
Smith: Hood…
Hood: Smith…..
Smith: -narrows eyes-
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The crowd rises. Just A Girl by No Doubt hits! The fans give a strong reaction as the PROUD AND STRONG TransAtlantic Champion, Veronica Strader makes her way to the ring. The tiny head of Chuck by her side...barely visible. She reaches the ring and hustles up the steps, TransAtlantic Title over her shoulder. Chuck remains on the outside~
Belvedere: From Tampa, Florida...standing 5’10 and weighing in at 140lbs...she is Proud and Strong! She is the OCW TransAtlantic Champion...she is the undefeated Veronica Strader!!!
~Strader steps through the ropes, handing the title through the ropes to Chuck...who has to climb onto the apron to receive it. As she does, she’s attacked by Mad Max!! The crowd boos! The bell rings! Mad Max pummels Veronica in the back with some stiff right forearm blows to the back, sending her crashing into the corner, face buried into the middle buckle. Belvedere exits quickly~
Smith: Mad Max is going right after Veronica! I think it should be clarified that Max dated Victoria NOT Veronica.
Hood: Oh for fuck’s sake...like there’s a difference. IT’S THE SAME PERSON
Smith: No it’s not, Hood. Two completely different personalities.
Hood: Only person allowed to be two different people, IMO is Supreme Machine and, well, that’s because he frightens me.
Smith: Well, I’ll be sure to let Veronica know what you’re saying...pretty sure she’ll frighten you as well.
Hood: Oh no, that’s okay. She’s a big girl. You don’t have to tell her anything.
~Max drills Strader in her ribcage with a few sharp knees. She drops to one knee and slams Strader in the back with a double axe handle. Returning to her feet, she slams her foot into the back of Vee’s head, shoving her face into the middle buckle. She keeps it there for an extended period, jamming her face and smothering the oxygen from her lungs at the same time. Scruff rushes over, administering a five count. He finally gets Max off of Vee after five seconds~
Smith: We might be looking at the upset of the year.
Hood: That would be hilarious. I mean, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Max was scorned, right?
Smith: I’m guessing so, given how angry she is.
~Strader falls to the mat turns around, sitting against the buckles looking up at Max. The look in her eyes change. It’s almost like a complete shift in personality. Her indifference toward Max shifts to a look of emotion. She leans forward, slowly shifting to all fours, reaching out for Max. Max shoves Scruff away and looks down at Strader~
Smith: Wait
Hood: Is she about to quit? Give up her TransAtlantic Title?
Smith: Hood! I think that’s Victoria! I think she’s emerged from her subconscious prison!
~Max scowls, frowning and looking down on her former love interest. She reaches down and yanks Strader’s head back via a handful of hair. She gets a look into Strader’s eyes and sees something familiar. Something that lowers her guard. Max shows signs of emotion. And, at that precise moment, Strader’s eyes return to their state of aggression and she delivers a low blow to Max!!! Max doubles over, wincing in extreme pain~
Smith: And Veronica has returned.
Hood: Pssh. She never left, Smith. She’s just fucking with Max.
Smith: I think it runs deeper than that, Hood.
~Strader stands and looks down at Max with disdain. She hooks her arms and promptly drops her on her face with The Wild One (Pedigree)!!!! She flips Max over and makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...the OCW TransAtlantic Champion...VERONICA STRADER!!!!!
Smith: Mad Max got the jump but, in the end, Veronica prevailed.
Hood: Man, she wasted that bitch. Veronica doesn’t fuck around.
Smith: Undefeated champions rarely do, Hood.
~Strader pops to her feet with a wry smile on her face, looking up at Greta Angelou. Greta’s naked body from the neck down shifts in her chair a bit...this probably means she’s enjoyed what she’s seen. Strader looks down at Max and delivers a swift kick into her head, keeping her down. The act draws some negative jeers from the crowd. She heads for the ropes and steps through them, hopping off the apron where Chuck hands her the TransAtlantic Championship~
Smith: Say what you want...theorize all you like...the fact remains that Veronica Strader took care of business. Her first match since retaining at Access Denied in an absolutely brutal affair.
Hood: She might legit be the meanest female wrestler we’ve ever had.
Smith: Mean. Ruthless. Or simply a fierce competitor...whatever the case, Veronica is all about winning. And, so far, nobody has been able to stop her.
Buddy Bomb: I still don't think it's fair.
Brent Bomb: Life's not fair.
~Elsewhere, we see the personal security of James Copeland sitting in chairs beside each other. Buddy has a frown on his face, readjusting his shitty glasses that make his eyes look bigger than they are~
Buddy Bomb: How come he gets a contract?
Brent Bomb: Because.
Buddy Bomb: Why don't WE get a contract?
Brent Bomb: Because.
~Buddy huffs, crossing his arms, while Brent sits there staring out in space~
Buddy Bomb: Do you think he's gonna blow it?
Brent Bomb: Dunno. Don't care.
Buddy Bomb: What if he doesn't have what it takes?
~Brent scoffs~
Brent Bomb: Not like you need a lot to get far here. Give it a few weeks and he'll have a title around his waist.
James Copeland: BINGO!
Buddy Bomb: AH!
~Coming up from behind The Bomb Brothers is the sneaky Copeland, sporting a bright pink shirt and some cargo shorts~
James Copeland: Always good too see my top tag team is always supporting me. I love it, I especially love it when I know the weak link of the team isn't talking SHIT behind my back like a little PUSSY.
~Copeland shoots Buddy a look~
James Copeland: You're not a PUSSY who's talking shit about me, right Buddy? I sure hope not, because little PUSSIES don't get my fuckin' money.
~Buddy nervously shakes his head~
Buddy Bomb: Not a-at all, not me, nope. No way. You have my full support Mr. Copeland!
~James smiled, before reeling his foot back and booting Buddy in the side of the face, causing him to fall down. The poor little shit is holding back tears, but stands up~
Buddy Bomb: Thank you... it's an honor to be kicked by you.
James Copeland: Your welcome. Now then... Online Championship Wrestling! Ain't this exciting? This... this...
~James tries to come up with the right word as his arms are spread, but as he looks up at the sky, he lets his arms drop~
James Copeland: This is shit. Absolute shit.
~James looks at The Bomb Brothers~
James Copeland: When my father, God bless him, told me I'd be getting my chance to wrestle in one of the biggest promotions today, I didn't realize he was lyin' to my face. First, I find out some old, crusty fuck named Outcast is the champion of the whole fed, then, I find out Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas, two racist cunts are allowed here.
Brent Bomb: A shame.
James Copeland: A DAMN shame at that! It makes me so irritated I could just kick the shit out of the nearest foured eyed motherfucker!
~James looks at Buddy, and proceeds to punt him in the shin, causing him to fall over in a painful fashion. James spits at him, and takes a pause, thinking for a moment~
James Copeland: Now, fellas, there's a few different routes we can go... there's Option A... be a good human being and try to make my way to the top through hard work...
Brent Bomb: Nope.
James Copeland: Option B... get hooked on drugs... more drugs... make everyone feel bad for me, and comeback cloathed in a white robe with a pointy hood like Bobby-boy...
Buddy Bomb: Why do you hate Bob?
~A quick punt to the chin of Buddy by James~
James Copeland: Because I don't pay enough attention to this company, and he's easy to pick on! He's also fat. Fat as fuck. Fat people make easy targets to pick on. What're they gonna do? GET UP? TRY TO CHASE ME? HA! He belongs on 4Chan or Reddit, not in a wrestling ring.
Brent Bomb: No to Option B... sounds like a lot of work. Option C though?
~James smiles~
James Copeland: Option C? That's Option Copeland... which means be James Copeland, which means... be The Ultimate Package... and keep these OCW fans waiting too see what I can do.
~James rubs his hands together like a villan, smirking as the camera fades to commercial~
Check Out Alice Knight's Carpe Noctem Promo!
- 'O W L' -
~We cut to a very floral, very beautiful interior shot of the Wynn Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. One of the nicest, most prestigious casinos on the STRIP. A young woman, mid 20s, is staring at some of the flowers, dressed in a nice attire. Her boyfriend approaches, wearing a blazer with nice jeans~
Girl: Are they open?
Boy: Yep, our reservations are booked. We should be seated in about thirty minutes.
Girl: Great!
~She’s so happy and excited. This place is amazing. She looks around her boyfriend, spotting the casino~
Girl: Do you want to go play a few...OH MY GOSH
~She gasps, covering her mouth. Looking down, she finds her boyfriend on one knee, holding a little black box~
Boy: Stacy, these past few years have been amazing. I don’t have the words to describe how happy you’ve made me. How enriched my life has become since you entered it. So, I’d like to ask you…
~She’s welling up. He’s choking up. WHAT A MOMENT. And then, a foreign voice calls out~
Voice: EXCUSE ME, HAVE YOU TWO ACCEPTED OCW INTO YOUR LIVES?
~The boy and girl are shocked. Thrown. They turn and see LEO approaching~
Leo: Since you two are just standing around, how about I tell you a little bit about OCW. OCW is fucking badass and on fire like never before. So, please, head on over to http://www.onlinechampionshipwrestling.com/join.html and join the PROUD AND STRONG today!
~Leo reveals a JOIN OCW sign~
Leo: Eh? EH? EH?!
~The boy, enraged, stands. He turns to his girlfriend~
Boy: Was this your idea? Are you making fun of me?
Stacy: Huh? What?
Boy: Don’t act like you forgot about that OCW wrestler you slept with when they were in town!
Stacy: That was before I met you!
Boy: Whatever.
~Enraged and embarrassed, the dude pockets the ring and storms off. The girl watches him leave feeling an amalgamation of confusion and disappointment. She then turns to Leo~
Leo: I THOUGHT you looked familiar.
~Her face turns puce~
Leo: You okay? Is this a bad time?
~She balls up a fist and slugs Leo in the face, knocking him to the ground. She bends over and yells~
Stacy: You ruined my proposal, YOU ASSHOLE
~She storms off after her boyfriend. We cut to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Yikes.
Hood: I wonder who she slept with...couldn’t have been Leo.
Smith: That’s none of our business, Hood. All I can really say is Leo might need a few lessons on when and how to recruit.
Hood: Nah, he’s doing just fine.
Smith: My condolences to that young, promising couple. I hope they got everything sorted out.
Hood: And, if not, Stacy, babe, we’re gonna be in town one more evening! I’m staying at Caesars...JUST SAYIN
Smith: Hood, what about Alisa?
Hood: ...so who’s up next?!
Smith: Well, since you asked...the REAL Savage Champion, Supreme Machine is up next as he faces...A bear.
Hood: Oh fuck yes...let’s get to this shit!
Smith: It’s weird. It’s wacky and it’s next!
Supreme Machine (0-0) vs. Batbear (0-0)
~The lights are on. We’re officially UNDER THE LIGHTS...yes the name from that magical evening when Outcast defeated Xander Cruz for the OCW Title. Belvedere stands in the ring...the Vegas temperature is in the midst of it’s precipitous drop. No sun equals no fun if you aren’t properly dressed in the desert. Speaking of which GRETA ANGELOU is handed a coat. She puts it on. It’s totally see through so we can still ogle at her body. Her face remains cut off by the screen~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The strum of a sweet guitar fills our ears. The Elvis Impersonators all huddle and lean into a giant mic. “IN THE GHETTOOOOO” they croon. The fans begin to sway as a cage is lowered to the ring with BATBEAR inside. He’s chewing on some meat~
Smith: This is so ridiculous.
Hood: Extremely emotional song for Batbear. Few people know this but when Batbear was a young batcub he was at a batopera with his batparents and they decided to leave out the back and on their way out some batthugs robbed and killed his batparents. A very emotional moment for the young batcub which shaped him into the Batbear he is today. The Ghetto...the place where his parents were gunned down...holds a very special place in Batbear’s batheart.
Smith: Please stop talking.
~The cage nestles softly against the mat. The door opens and Batbear emerges, giant bone covered in meat that’s been ripped, shredded, and chewed. He bearwalks his way to a corner and sits down, gnawing on the raw food. The Elvis Impersonators continue to sing ‘IN THE GHETTOOOOOOOOO’. Batbear turns and ROARS at them. They go silent~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"Warheart" by Children of Bodom hits and the crowd goes silent. As intimidating as A WHOLE ASS BEAR might be...it’s nothing compared to the aura and fear that the mere presence of Supreme Machine instills. The monster appears through the crowd...fans run and scream, making way. His Savage Championship is draped over his shoulder as he reaches the ring. SuMa marches up the steps and pauses, looking over the ropes and into the ring at Batbear, who continues to maul a giant bone covered in meat. The cage has been raised~
Belvedere: And, his opponent...standing 6’9 and weighing in at 315lbs...he is, recognized by some, as the one, true Savage Champion...he is the undefeated Supreme Machine!!!
~Belvedere dives out of the ring. Dude was sweating bullets...but, being that he’s a total pro, you never would have known it. SuMa steps in through the ropes. Scruff is inside, unfazed...being a lifelong homeless man, he’s experience way scarier shit than a bear. The bell rings and we’re underway~
Smith: The bell rings and SuMa still has his Savage Championship over his shoulder.
Hood: There’s a fuckin bear in the ring, Smith.
Smith: Fair.
~Batbear seems less than interested, content to gnaw on his bone. And, I mean what kinda bone is that? It looks...ah, nevermind, the less we ask the better. Suddenly, a light flashes across the sky. It’s THE BATBEAR SIGNAL high into the clouds. Batbear rises in his corner and stares out at the light with wide, eager eyes~
Smith: I’m at a loss.
Hood: The signal! He’s being called to action!
~SuMa seizes his opportunity. Batbear may be a WHOLE ASS BEAR but SuMa is a fucking monster. He rushes forward and boots Batbear right in the fuckin face!!! Batbear falls back into a corner, snorting and shaking it’s head. He looks at SuMa, who stands in the center of the ring, breathing heavily. Batbear ROARS and gets on all fours, preparing to charge~
Smith: I don’t think that kick did much.
Hood: It was like the buzzing of flies to him.
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Random Ghostbusters 2 reference.
~Batbear charges at SuMa. SuMa ducks his shoulder in...looking like a defensive posture. Batbear rises. SuMa gets under him, lifts him onto his shoulders for the briefest of seconds before dropping back and slamming Batbear into the mat with a Samoan Drop!!! The crowd gasps with shock and awe!! Batbear is on the mat, releasing a roar that sounds more like a wail. SuMa scrambles for his Savage belt while the beast is down~
Smith: Wow, he actually picked him up.
Hood: It’s official. Supreme Machine is stronger than a bear.
Smith: Not sure I’d go THAT far...but he’s holding up surprisingly well.
~SuMa collects his Savage Belt and starts to bash Batbear in the head with it...over and over and over and over again until Batbear is motionless on the mat. SuMa looks at the faceplate of his belt...it’s smeared with blood. He takes a moment to catch his breath~
Smith: Would this be considered animal abuse?
Hood: Survival.
Smith: Either way, it’s an impressive showing and every bit as intimidating as BRIM’s decimation of that panther.
Hood: OCW: Where no animal is safe.
~SuMa uses all the strength he has to roll Batbear onto his front. He places the Savage Title under Batbear’s face. He grabs two handfuls of fur from Batbear’s arms, pulling them back as far as his strength will allow before curb stomping Batbear’s face into the title. The fans all react with a ‘UGH MAN POOR BATBEAR’. SuMa rolls Batbear over and covers him~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...The OCW ‘Savage Champion’...SUPREME MACHINE!!!!!
Smith: Well, that settles it. Supreme Machine is, in fact, a monster.
Hood: BRIM murdered a panther. And Supreme Machine basically killed Batbear.
Smith: A rough night for Batbear...but Supreme Machine setting the stage for what should be a brutal match up against BRIM.
~The cage is lowered and crew members rush to get the badly beaten Batbear back in there. SuMa grabs his title and exits...having executed his objective. Greta Angelou looks on, the muscles in her arms tense...obviously nervous over the prospect of spending a night with Supreme Machine~
Smith: The stars are shining brightly tonight and no star rests higher in the sky than Supreme Machine. He’s as menacing as ever.
Hood: When you defeat and nearly murder a bear with your BARE hands, haha...when you do that, man, you’re gonna be feared by just about everyone.
Smith: Except BRIM.
Hood: Well, I mean, BRIM’s the size of a fuckin bear. Wish that match was next week! Fuck.
Smith: When those two lock up it’s going to be brutal.
~The ring is empty. The Bear has been removed. Why are we mentioning this? Probably because an in-ring segment is coming up~
~The fans outside the Graceland Wedding Chapel, surrounding the ring, are buzzing about all the action they’ve seen thus far. Wagers are being placed. Did SuMa seriously defeat a FUCKING BEAR? Will Hewitt shock the world and knock off Bob Grenier in his debut? Was that The Lost Stranger they saw in the back of the Spearmint Rhino? But all their questions are shoved aside when the very annoying voice belonging to ZEUS molests their ears~
Zeus: EVERYBODY! EVERYBODY LISTEN!
~Zeus powers through the crowd and tries hopping on the apron but he doesn’t quite make it. Some fans laugh...Zeus turns, staring at them, threatening to STRIKE THEM DOWN with his godly powers. He then rolls up on the apron and into the ring, reaching his feet. Flood lights beam down on him with the sun pretty much set at this point~
Zeus: I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY AND SEEING AS I’M THE GOD OF ALL GODS YOU’D BETTER LISTEN.
Fan: WHY ARE YOU TALKING LIKE CAP SLOCK?
~Zeus narrows his eyes. But, that fan is right. He brings his voice down a few decibels~
Zeus: I’m a former tag team champion. I’m a god. And I’m being treated like a laughing stock. Last week? Everybody laughed at me. And it wasn’t the first time. I’m sick of it! SICK OF IT! Why can’t I earn a date with Greta...it’d be an honor for you, Greta, to spend the evening with ZEUS.
~Since we can’t see Greta’s head and only the arm covering her boobs and her amazing ass...we can only assume she’s rolling her eyes~
Zeus: Whatever. The point is I want to be taken seriously. And that starts tonight. I’m throwing down an open challenge right here in Vegas. To anyone who thinks they have what it takes to defeat a god. So, come on...get down here and get your ass kicked by the king of the gods!
~Zeus drops the mic. As he does the flood lights shut off. We’re covered in darkness. All we see are lit up cell phone screens moving around in people’s hands. The crowd yells...they murmur...they hold their breath, waiting to see what’s about to happen~
Hood: Ah shit. Did someone pull the plug on those lights?
Smith: I don’t think so, Hood. I think Zeus’ challenge is being answered!
Hood: By the god of darkness? Is there even such a thing?
Smith: I’d be absolutely shocked if there weren’t.
Hood: Even more shocking would be if that exact gimmick didn’t exist in this fuckin sport.
Smith: Indeed
~The lights suddenly flash on and the crowd goes wild!! THE MOP rests in the corner behind Zeus!! Zeus looks around, confused~
Smith: IT’S THE MOP!
Hood: Oh for fuck’s sake.
Smith: THE MOP IS IN VEGAS! THE MOP HAS ARRIVED
~The Mop, nestled against the corner with it’s handled pressed against the mat and it’s ‘head’ I guess you’d call it, up against the top buckle. Zeus slowly turns and he sees THE MOP!! He stumbles back, shocked. The fans go wild. They start chanting “MOP! MOP! MOP!”~
Smith: These fans are CRAZY about The Mop!
Hood: It’s the most over piece of cleaning equipment, including janitors, this promotion has ever seen...and it’s not even close!
Smith: Indeed!
~Zeus gathers himself and eyes The Mop. Zeus slowly makes his way towards The Mop. The Mop remains firm, solid, stoic~
Smith: What’s Zeus gonna do?
Hood: Break that mop. At least, that’s what I’d do.
Smith: And...what is the MOP gonna do?
Hood: The fuck you think? It’s a MOP. It’s just gonna lean there.
~Zeus gets up in THE MOP’S face. He talks shit. A gust of wind picks up, tossing some of the fabric ends around like hair. Zeus steps back, raising a fist. The fans yell and boo~
Smith: Did THE MOP just warn Zeus?
Hood: Of course not...it was the fuckin wind!
Smith: Was it, Hood? Was it?
Hood: YES! I feel like I’m losing my mind over here.
~Zeus threatens to punch The Mop but the fans BOO super loud! It’s clear we might have a riot on our hands if Zeus assaults The Mop. Zeus lowers his fist and he eyes The Mop saying, “Okay. Okay.” He backs away, pointing at The Mop, “I’ll see you next week, MOP!” Zeus steps through the ropes, leaving The Mop behind~
Smith: Zeus just challenged The Mop to a match next week! He didn’t want to give anything away before their encounter.
Hood: This is why Zeus can’t win a match. He won’t even confront a FUCKING MOP
Smith: He wasn’t prepared to face The Mop, Hood.
Hood: IT’S A MOP
~Zeus disappears into the crowd. The fans chant ‘MOP! MOP! MOP!’ as The Mop remains in the ring, leaning against the corner. We get a shot of Greta Angelou as she criss crosses her legs a few times, obviously a little hot and bothered over THE MOP. We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Could THE MOP win the night out in Vegas with Greta?
Hood: I will fucking quit if that happens.
Smith: Fans, yes...I’m being told it’s official. Zeus will face The Mop next week on Massacre!
Hood: Hope he breaks that mop in half.
Smith: Folks, we're going to take one final commercial break. When we return...it's Main Event Time!
OCW Presents: Carpe Noctem
LIVE! Sunday, February 27th!
From The Great Illuminatus
In Death Valley, California
Featuring The Pyramid Scheme Match
~We return to the live feed. Smith and Hood are prepared for some Main Event action. The Mop has left, but the fans are still buzzing over its apperance~
Smith: It’s been a wild and wacky night but we’ve got one, final item on the agenda.
Hood: Well, let’s get to it,
Smith: There’s not much to be said, really. It’s a legend taking on one of the most promising newcomers in recent memory. Can Kelson Hewitt do the unthinkable? Or, will Bob Grenier put another ‘young lion’ in his place. Let’s find out! Our Main Event is NOW.
Bob Grenier (3-0) vs. Kelson Hewitt (0-0)
~It’s dark. The flood lights overheard shine brightly on the inebriated Las Vegas crowd...most of whom are probably from other places. They’ve been enjoying themselves the entire evening...liquid libations and physical vibrations. But, now, there’s a density in the air that was previously non-existent. Because it’s time to lace up them boots and put on that game face because a bonafied, legit main event is on the horizon. Belvedere stands in the ring, ready to do his schtick for the final time this evening~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our main event of the evening!!
~Huge ovation~
Belvedere: Introducing first…
~"No One Like You" by Scorpions fills the Vegas night air, colliding with the already eager atmosphere. This creates a strong reaction from the faithful...nodding, bouncing, singing to the music, drinks in hand. A spotlight locates a figure marching through the crowd toward the ring. It’s OCW rookie Kelson Hewitt. His first appearance on OCW TV and he’s already coming off as a star. Fans pat him on the back and urge him to the ring. Hewitt has a look of focus that states he’s far more than your average rookie~
Smith: These fans are already behind Kelson Hewitt.
Hood: Yea, well, it’s easy to buy into the hype of an impressive newcomer. People are fascinated with locating the next big thing and Kelson has a chance to be that.
Smith: Well, he’s going to face about as strong a test as a wrestler can face in any match, let alone their debut.
Belvedere: From Nashville, Tennessee...standing 5’11 and weighing in at 201lbs...he is the self proclaimed ‘Man of Steel’...introducing...Kelson Hewitt!!!!
~Kelson looks up at the ring, the flood lights shining down on his composed expression. He walks on the steps, stepping up on the second rope near the corner, and reaches out a singlehand with his fingers extended, feeling the energy of the crowd before leaping down to the canvas. The fans pop! He nods at Belvedere before finding a corner and hopping around, anxious for the match to begin~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The Elvis Impersonators lean into their mics...some very NON ELVIS SOUNDING music begins to play and the group of impersonators begin to sing, in their Elvis voices...WHERE THE HOOD AT. The fans pop and dance around to the very odd but surprisingly decent cover. Belvedere raises a very curious and concerned eyebrow...concern over the future of music. Kelson lowers his head, remaining focused~
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs...he is a former OCW Champion...he is in the OCW Hall of Fame...he is...Bob Grenier!!!
~The music ends. The Elvis Impersonators all high five, excited over their ability to adapt their style to ‘modern’ and ‘hip’ lyrics. All is well aside from one fairly crucial piece missing from this weird puzzle...there is no Bob Grenier~
Smith: Uh, Bob?
Hood: Don’t tell me he fell off the wagon.
Smith: Well, it IS Vegas.
~Greta Angelou’s body moves around...we can only guess, without seeing her face, that she, too, is curious. Doors open. Our view shifts and the doors to the Graceland Wedding Chapel open, ominously. Inside, darkness. Kelson looks up. Belvedere steps out of the way. If wind could speak, the air pushing from within the chapel would be extending a verbal invite to Kelson~
Smith: Okay...first time a wedding chapel has felt haunting.
Hood: You kidding me? All chapels are haunting. It’s where men go to die.
Smith: That is an extremely cynical view on one of humanity’s happiest traditions.
~Hewitt heads for the ropes. A few fans are like “DON’T DO IT, KELSON!” but Hewitt isn’t the type to shy away from a challenge. Hell, he bypassed an automatic win in his debut so he could face the biggest and the baddest OCW has to offer. He hops out of the ring and steps through the Elvis Impersonators. He reaches the Chapel’s entrance, takes a beat, and enters. The doors shut behind him~
Smith: Good luck, Kelson.
Hood: That chapel just ate him!
Smith: It didn’t eat him.
Hood: It opened it’s mouth, he walked in, and it closed. IT ATE HIM
Smith: That chapel isn’t alive, Hood.
~Via the magic of television teleportation, we’re taken inside the Graceland Wedding Chapel. It isn’t all that big. Kelson quickly locates the prestige of the entire location...the place where couples are forever bonded. Standing the back with a few rows of tiny pews in front of him, Hewitt eyes the altar. It’s dark. Few lights are on. But, one thing is certainly distinguishable...Bob Grenier sits on the altar, his feet on the floor. Arms hanging over his knees, his head bows. The light from outside shining against his hunched silhouette~
Smith: There’s Bob looking very much like a groom who’s been stranded at the alter.
Hood: He’s waiting. Making Kelson come to him and the rookie has done just that.
~Slowly Bob’s head raises, his eyes landing on Hewitt. Kelson heads Bob’s way. Grenier stands and takes a few steps forward...in seconds, the two meet in the middle of the aisle, fists swinging. The crowd outside goes wild! Bob and Kelson trade right hands...Bob’s fists outweighing Kelson’s both in actual density and in experience. Kelson starts to give up ground~
Smith: And we’ve got a brawl inside the Graceland Wedding Chapel!
Hood: Bob hates marriage, Smith. If I’m not mistake he had his heart shattered several years back.
Smith: Yes, we are getting older but I do seem to recall Grenier being stood up on his wedding day.
~Realizing he’s giving up ground and about to experience some serious pain, Kelson diverts from punching and throws a swift kick into Grenier’s gut! The legend doubles over and staggers. Hewitt smacks him with a quick uppercut, straightening Bob out and sending him walking back toward the alter. Hewitt slices through Bob’s chest with three knife edged chops!! Bob’s reeling...his heels back up against the raised alter! Hewitt measures Grenier~
Smith: And the rookie is fighting back! He’s going to send Bob tumbling onto the alter.
Hood: Well, he’d better be quick about it. We saw Gideon gloat and take his time against Bob at Access Denied and that, among other bullshit, cost him the match.
Smith: Indeed. These legends give you zero room for error.
~Hewitt throws a roundhouse kick!! But Bob ducks!! Hewitt spins around. Grenier instantly hooks him around the waist for a German Suplex onto the alter. He throws Kelson over his head!! Kelson flips over and lands on his feet. Bob manages to land safely...he pops back up and spins around...Hewitt runs and jumps off the alter with a cross body! Grenier catches him!! Hewitt wiggles, trying to break free but tosses him over his shoulder and eyes the podium at the head of the alter~
Smith: Bob’s going to put Kelson head first through that wooden podium!
Hood: Meghan and Tamika have to be wondering what the hell they got themselves into, funding this company.
Smith: And this wasn’t even scheduled to be a falls count anywhere match.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~Grenier charges forward, attempting to launch Kelson head first into the podium. But Hewitt slides off his shoulder!! He tries to push Grenier from behind through the podium, but Grenier reaches back, grabs Kelson and slings him forward, sending Hewitt’s body crashing through the podium!!!! The podium is destroyed!! Hewitt goes all the way through it, landing hard on the wooden alter!! The crowd outside goes wild! These drunken gamblers love their violence. Grenier blows snot out of both nostrils onto the ground before marching up onto the alter and across the shattered wood that recently comprised a podium. He stands over Kelson, who is face down, struggling to regain his bearings~
Smith: And Kelson takes the first big hit of the match.
Hood: He brought a water pistol to a super soaker gun fight!
Smith: Those were fun toys.
Hood: Imagine filling one up with acid and then robbing a store. The clerk is all “Haha you have a toy gun” then you spray him in the face to show him you’re not fucking around.
Smith: Your imagination is horrible.
~Grenier grabs a hand full of hair, yanking Hewitt to his feet. Kelson surprises Bob with a punch in the gut. Grenier pauses, wincing. Kelson rises up and blasts Bob across the face with a piece of wood from the shattered podium!! Bob shuffles backward, off the alter. Hewitt drops the wood, rushes forward, leaps up, wraps his legs around Grenier’s head and spins around, tossing Grenier around and into the pews!!! Grenier’s 222lbs crashes into the pews! His weight and impact shatters the first few rows, leaving him covered in rubble. Kelson remains on one knee, holding his head from his encounter with the podium, regaining his focus. Outside, the crowd continues to cheer...the bloodthirsty heathens that they are~
Smith: A tremendous counter by Kelson! He’s not backing down!
Hood: Bob throws the guy through a podium so Kelson is like ‘Meet the pews, bitch!’
Smith: Yea, sure.
Hood: Pew! Pew!
Smith: They aren’t shooting guns, Hood.
~Hewitt fights through the debris to locate and pull Bob back into the aisle. Yanking Grenier to his feet, Kelson looks toward the exit, eager to get this thing in the ring. Grenier smacks Kelson in the ribs with a right hand, temporarily paralyzing the OCW rookie. Bob drops to one knee, grimacing, holding the back of his neck. Kelson sees the act and shakes off the punch, snaring Bob by the neck and pulling him up...he spins Grenier around and attempts a neckbreaker in the aisle. Grenier, however, reaches out with his hand and he rakes Hewitt across the face! Kelson releases his grip and leans to the side, against the unaffected pews, holding his face. Grenier sneaks up behind, he hooks Hewitt over his shoulders and throws him into the pews with a modified Death Valley Driver (Attitude Adjustment)!!! Hewitt crashes into the pews, wrecking the other side. Again, the fans outside cheer. Grenier rubs the back of his neck before kicking through the broken wood, heading for Hewitt~
Smith: Back and forth we go with each man using the other’s body as a demolition device.
Hood: Graceland Wedding Chapel is getting a makeover very soon...thanks to the deep pockets of the Strader women.
Smith: Quite a bit of violence already and we haven’t even had the bell ring.
Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY
~We cut outside the Graceland Wedding Chapel. The Elvis Impersonators look up at the giant screens around the ring like everyone else, taking in the action. They see themselves on TV and they go wild, swiveling their hips and shaking their arms. As they do, the front doors behind them burst open and Kelson Hewitt’s body flies forward, smashing into them. The Elvis Impersonators tumble forward. The front doors start to shut, but Grenier’s angry foot kicks them back open as he emerges from the Chapel~
Smith: And they’re out of the chapel and nearer the ring...progress.
Hood: It’s a rough night to be the king...or the kings.
Smith: I think they’ve had, overall, a solid evening.
Hood: It ain’t over.
~The Elvis Impersonator’s gather themselves. Upon doing so, they see Kelson sprawled out in front of the entrance. They help him up, “You okay, son?” “C’mon little buddy.” “Here ya go, brother.” Their philanthropic efforts bear little fruit as Grenier storms forward with both arms, clotheslining all the Elvis Impersonators to the ground. One by one, he picks them up, slugs them in the face and throws them to the side~
Smith: Yea, okay, I spoke too soon.
Hood: I wonder if this is all payback for Elvis’ deep rooted hatred of Canada.
Smith: What? He didn’t hate Canada.
Hood: Oh, he very much hated Canada. After ever set he’d murmur under his mouth ‘fuck Canada’.
Smith: I don’t buy that at all.
~With the Elvis Impersonators eliminated from the scene, Bob stands in front of a mic, still standing. He then looks out into the crowd and does a quick SWIVEL of the hips to a mixture of cheers and boos. He smiles and spits into the mic before slapping it away. Rising behind him is Kelson! The crowd pops! Kelson leaps onto Bob’s back, trying to lock a sleeper onto the legend. Grenier stumbles forward, away from the chapel, to the ring apron. He reaches back, trying to grab Kelson’s head. Hewitt lets go and drops to his feet. Bob spins around and Hewitt leaps into the air and dropkicks Bob in the face!! Grenier’s back slams against the edge of the apron, sending him to his knees, reaching for his back. Hewitt braces his fall on the concrete outside the ring as best he can. He remains down for a second, reeling from the punishment Bob’s dished out thus far~
Smith: Kelson Hewitt fighting back as, this time, it was the legend who let his personality and antics carry him away from the task at hand.
Hood: Bob just wanted to swivel those hips. Show everyone he’s got some KING in him.
Smith: Well, it allowed Kelson Hewitt to get back in this match.
Hood: Trust me. I think Bob knows he’s got this. If he thought Kelson had a chance he wouldn’t have impregnated all the women in Vegas with that hip move.
~Kelson rises to his feet. He runs at Bob, who remains doubled over...but Bob lifts Kelson into the air! Hewitt flies over Bob, over the apron and onto the ropes...he lands on the middle rope and springboards off with a moonsault. Bob turns around and Kelson takes him down onto the street!!! The crowd goes wild!! Hewitt hurries back to his feet, picking Bob off the ground and slinging him into the ring, under the bottom rope. Grenier rolls across the mat, into the center of the ring. He scrambles, trying to reach his feet...stumbling and fumbling around due to his mixed equilibrium. Kelson hops onto the apron and waits for Bob. Bob reaches his feet...Hewitt jumps up and springboards off the top rope taking Bob down with a springboard Meteora!!! The crowd increases their cheering, rallying behind the impressive newcomer. A ‘KELSON!’ chant starts up. With both men in the ring, Scruff signals for the bell and it finally rings~
Smith: And FINALLY this match is underway.
Hood: Fuck, Bob’s in trouble.
Smith: Yep. Not only won’t Kelson Hewitt go away but he seems to be gaining momentum as the match carries on.
Hood: Bob, man, you gotta focus, buddy. This guy is legit.
~Kelson bypasses going for a pin. He pops back to his feet and pulls Greiner up, delivering a forearm uppercut that spins the former OCW Champion around. Hewitt grabs him by the head for a reverse DDT but, instead, lifts him up and drops him with a Backstabber (The Real Backbreaker)!!! Bob arches his back in pain...Hewitt springs forward and covers the legend. Scruff slides in, the fans all lean forward, holding their collective breath with the count~
1!
2!
3...NO! KICK OUT
Smith: Grenier kicks out! But, barely!
Hood: Okay, great. Kelson’s had his moment. We’ve all been entertained. Time for Bob to put this kid down.
Smith: I’m not sure it’s going to be that easy, Hood.
~If Kelson is frustrated by the near victory, he’s not showing it. He promptly returns to his feet, bringing Grenier along with him. He knees Bob in the gut, keeping him stunned. He hooks Grenier for a T-Bone Suplex...he looks over his shoulder, locating the corner behind him. He steadies...he’s about to throw Bob into the corner...but, Grenier leans in and bites Kelson on the ear!! Hewitt yells and shoves Grenier back, releasing his grip. Bob stumbles into the center of the ring...Hewitt holds his ear and looks at his hand, he spots a bit of blood. Kelson slings the blood from his hand to the mat and charges at Grenier...Grenier ducks, hoists Kelson up and slings him down onto the mat with a tremendous Alabama Slam!!!! The back of Hewitt’s head bounces off the mat! He holds his head in pain for a moment before going still~
Smith: Tremendous force behind that Alabama Slam
Hood: Now that’s some classic OCW shit, man. Bite that guy’s fuckin ear...do whatever you can to survive.
Smith: Grenier is nothing if not a survivor.
~Bob drops to one knee, reaching for his back. He’s taken quite a bit of punishment from the newcomer. Plus, he’s not getting any younger. He fights through and crawls toward Kelson. He gets his hands on Kelson’s face and starts to pull and dig at his features. Hewitt tries to fight him off. Scruff comes in, yelling at Bob to stop. Grenier gets frustrated with Hewitt’s resistance and grabs his head, slamming the back of it into the mat. Kelson goes still. Grenier snares a handful of hair and begins to pummel Kelson in the head~
Smith: Grenier is mauling Kelson Hewitt.
Hood: Yep, he’s pissed. Old men don’t like it when you attack their back.
Smith: He’s not THAT old.
Hood: By pro wrestling standards he is. A 40 year old pro wrestler is, like, a 60 year old person who does literally anything else.
~With Kelson down and motionless. Bob ceases the punching and shoves both shoulders to the mat. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Kelson has some life left in him!
Hood: Bob needs to tape some brass knuckles onto his fists. That’d get the job done.
Smith: That’d be cheating!
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~Grenier snatches Kelson’s head and grips a front face lock, yanking Hewitt back to his feet. He stands Kelson up and kicks him right into the chest! The impact sends Hewitt’s body crashing back into a corner. Bob charges in and squashes Hewitt’s body with a clothesline. He promptly hooks Kelson, drags him out of the corner, lifts him up and drops him down with an Exploder Suplex!!! The crowd pops from the high impact! Grenier goes for another pin~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP!!
Smith: Kelson hanging in there, but Bob’s assault is increasing.
Hood: That finish line is visible. A few more moves and he should be clear.
Smith: Indeed. Hewitt desperately needs to shift this thing back in his favor.
~Feeling he’s on the precipice of victory, Grenier hurries back to his feet. He kicks at Kelson, getting him onto all fours. Hewitt struggles to one knee. Bob slaps him across the face, yelling “GET UP!” Kelson reaches his feet, staggering to the side. Bob spins, throwing a discus elbow...but Kelson ducks!! Grenier spins all the way around...his eyes wide with shock that Kelson avoided the impact. But, Hewitt remains off balance...so, Bob throws a bicycle kick...but Hewitt ducks again...this time, the two pass each other...as they do, Kelson grabs Bob by the head and drops him with a neckbreaker!!! The crowd goes wild!!! Grenier writhes around on the mat, holding his neck in pain. Kelson remains down, continuing to catch his wits and breath~
Smith: Kelson with a neckbreaker! He’s not out of this yet!
Hood: Gert Derm it! This kid won’t go away. I hate to say this but...WHERE’S ALICE? We need Alice out here to drop Kelson on his head like she did Gideon.
Smith: Oh, so you want Alice?
Hood: The fuck you just say? Don’t make me stab you in the eye with a needle.
~Kelson sits up. He rolls over and gets to his feet. Grenier is on his side, holding his head and neck. Hewitt grabs Bob and pulls him up. Grenier shoves Kelson back. He throws a straight right hand, but Kelson blocks it and kicks Bob in the gut! He brings Grenier in and hooks him for a swinging neck breaker. Bob winces and grunts, his neck bothering him quite a bit...Hewitt swings Grenier back and then forth, turning him over...but Grenier keeps the momentum going, spinning them back into their original position before lifting Kelson up onto his shoulders!!! The crowd rises! He has Kelson in position and drops him to the mat with HOLLINGER PARK HANGMAN!!!! The crowd pops!! The ring shakes!! Scruff jumps up and down, waiting for a pin. Grenier holds his neck...the impact bothering his already afflicted body~
Smith: Hollinger Park Hangman!! Finisher of the Month in January!
Hood: Alright! Order remains in OCW and Bob’s heading into The Great Illuminatus with ALL the momentum.
~Grenier sits up, holding his head. He sees Scruff eager to make the count. He quickly turns around and dives on top of Hewitt. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!! NO! SHOULDER UP
Smith: Kelson got the shoulder up!
Hood: Mother fucker. Drop him on his head again, Bob! C’mon!
Smith: I’m starting to believe, Hood. Starting to believe that this might be Kelson’s night.
~Both men are down. Bob holds his neck, wincing in pain. Kelson is on his side, body limp. Grenier sits up, slapping the mat out of frustration. He looks over at Kelson and punches him in the ribs. Hewitt’s body snaps with pain as he covers his ribcage. Grenier struggles to his feet...he bends over, continuing to hold his neck. He grabs Kelson and pulls him up. He hooks him for a suplex...looking to pick Hewitt up and hit another Hollinger Park Hangman. Hewitt, though, delivers a couple of forearm shots into Bob’s midsection. Grenier loses his grip and stumbles back. Hewitt stands up. Grenier throws a punch, Kelson blocks it and hits Grenier with a forearm to the head! Bob’s neck screams with pain, paralyzing him momentarily. Kelson boots him in the gut and drops him with a DDT!!! He holds on, rolling through and pulling Bob up where he spins him around and drops him with a Swinging Neck Breaker!!! Grenier is down!! Kelson struggles to his feet and staggers around...he sees the nearest corner and stumbles in that direction. The fans are going wild, they can feel the upset...they cheer Kelson on...he feeds off their energy~
Smith: Kelson’s got the upper hand! He’s about to pull the biggest upset in recent memory!
Hood: Damnit...we need some Canadian Bacon out here...maybe a Moosehead beer. Some maple syrup...something to revive the Canadian Icon, Bob Grenier!
Smith: Sadly, we’re about as far from Canada as possible.
Hood: We’re in the South Pole?
Smith: No.
~Kelson climbs to the top. He reaches and looks down at Bob. Grenier’s near the ropes so it makes for a difficult path but, this is Hewitt’s first and likely only opportunity. So, he takes flight and maneuvers his body in midair landing on Bob Grenier with Mighty No. 123 (Shooting Star Senton)!!!! The place erupts!! Kelson’s lower half is hanging out of the ring...he quickly shifts his body inside the ring and covers Bob. Scruff slides in with the count...the fans all chant along~
1!
2!!!
3!!!!!
NO
FOOT ON THE ROPE
Smith: Bob got his foot on the rope! I can’t believe it...I didn’t see it...I thought this was over!
Hood: So did everyone else, including Scruff.
~Kelson doesn’t notice the foot at first. All he heard was Scruff hitting the mat three times. He rises, arms in the air, the fatigued look of victory on his face. Scruff runs up to him and grabs him, trying to point out Bob’s foot on the rope. We get a quick instant replay of Scruff’s hand coming down for that pivotal third mat slap...just before it hits the mat, Bob’s foot sneaks off the mat and onto the bottom rope. The fans watching all groan with disappointment~
Smith: That was sooo close! Kelson’s gotta refocus.
Hood: Fuckin Scruff hit the mat three times...tell me this dude isn’t trying to screw Bob.
Smith: Hood, that foot on the rope was literally a fraction of a second before Scruff hit the three count.
Hood: I dunno, just seems extremely anti Canadian to me.
~Kelson looks down at Scruff and receives the bad news. His eyes widen with shock. He turns around, frantic. As he does, Bob’s on his knees. Grenier reaches out and punches Kelson in the dick!!! The fans BOOOOO!! Kelson doubles over. Scruff scolds Bob but doesn’t DQ him. Grenier laughs and rises to his feet, wincing and reaching for his neck~
Smith: NO!
Hood: Haha...Classic OCW, baby!
~Grenier hooks Kelson in a front face lock and knees him in the gut a few times, bullying him into a corner. He picks Hewitt up and places him on the top buckle. Bob climbs to the middle buckle. The fans rise...there’s a ‘oh shit’ vibe...something big is about to go down~
Smith: Oh my...Bob’s going for a Hollinger Park Hangman from THE TOP
Hood: Whew, man...Kelson, buddy, it sure was fun. Thank you for that spectacular two week run.
Smith: C’mon, Bob! There’s no need to ruin this kid’s career...let the new talent flourish!
Hood: Fuck off with that shit. If people like Kelson want to be stars, they gotta survive shit like this. If they can’t, fuck em. They can go wrestle with janitors.
~Grenier grabs Kelson’s head and starts to hook it under his arm. But, Hewitt battles back, realizing this is it. He can’t survive Hollinger Park Hangman from the top. Grenier rakes his hand across Hewitt’s face, stunning him. Hewitt, half blinded, reaches up and grabs Bob by the hair, jerking his head to the side...Bob’s neck shrieks with pain. His body seizes up and he drops to the mat, landing on his feet. He struggles but fights through the pain, reaching for Kelson’s feet. Hewitt kicks back, landing a flush right foot into Bob’s neck!! Grenier falls to the mat. Kelson hops to his feet on the top rope~
Smith: Oh my!
Hood: OH SHIT
~Hewitt leaps off and soars through the air! He comes crashing down on top of Bow with a second Mighty No. 123!!! This time in the center of the ring! He hooks both legs. Scruff slides in! The fans count along~
1!
2!!!
3!!!!!!!!!!!!!
~The bell rings! Vegas goes wild~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...KELSON HEWITT!!!!!
Smith: He did it! Kelson did it!
Hood: Son of a BITCH
Smith: Kelson asked for a challenge and he got one. What a debut!
Hood: This is fuckin bullshit, man. Grenier wasn’t ready for this. He had no idea what he was walking into. Rematch...RIGHT NOW.
Smith: The record stands, Hood. Maybe these two will cross paths inside The Great Illuminatus.
Hood: Fuck.
Smith: Can’t you be happy that we have what appears to be a fresh new star?
Hood: The more you try and sell me on this the harder I’m going to resist it, Smith.
~Kelson rolls over, laying on his back, staring up into the dark sky exhausted, exhilarated. Grenier rolls onto the apron, holding his midsection. Scruff helps Kelson to his feet and raises his hand. The fans go wild~
Smith: Congratulations, Kelson! You earned it!
Hood: I think Bob might have caught a slight case of AIDS or something. He clearly wasn’t himself.
Smith: A slight case of AIDS? That’s ridiculous!
~Bob sits up on the apron. He looks up at one of the screens above the ring and sees the replay of the pin. He grits his teeth and hops out of the ring. He reaches underneath and gets a steel chair. He slides into the ring, preparing to hit Kelson with it~
Smith: NO! Stop him!
Hood: Let’s restart the match!
Smith: That’s not going to happen.
~Bob rears back with the chair until a voice breaks through, interrupting him~
Marcus Welsh: Not so fast, Bob.
~The crowd pops! Marcus Welsh walks to the ring, mic in hand. Bob and Kelson both turn. Kelson sees Bob behind him with the chair and he immediately raises his guard. Welsh slides into the ring and pops to his feet~
Marcus Welsh: You fought hard, Bob. But, face it, you lost. Take it like a man.
~Bob doesn’t like that. He moves to get in Welsh’s face...but OCW’s head of security, Knux hits the ring quickly, getting in between Bob and Welsh~
Smith: Bob has never cared for Welsh. Bob’s a ‘Dean’ guy. He’s always seen Welsh as second rate.
Hood: Yea, well Welsh runs this place. He has for years.
~Welsh turns to Kelson and extends his hand~
Marcus Welsh: Kelson, you pulled it off. Congratulations.
~The crowd goes wild as Kelson shakes the GM’s hand. Marcus nods for Kelson to turn around. He does and we see the amazing body of Greta Angelou standing just outside the ring with a red carpet awaiting her and whoever she’s selected to enter a limo for a night out in Vegas. We still can’t see her head~
Marcus Welsh: To be honest, there were a number of wrestlers worthy of a night out with the striking and fierce Greta Angelou. However, given what you were able to pull off tonight, I figured the choice was obvious. So, head on down there and enjoy yourself, Kelson. You’ve earned it. The road won’t get any easier, I can promise you that.
~Kelson thanks Welsh. OCW security doesn’t really give him a choice on whether or not to accept the offer. They just kinda usher him out of the ring and toward Greta. They then escort the two down the red carpet toward the limo. Whatever happens after that is...NOT UP TO ME (says the narrator). We return to Welsh. He spins around, eyeing Bob Grenier~
Marcus Welsh: Look. I know you’ve never cared for me. And, to be fair, I saw you and Vargas as nuisances more than anything when I took over. But, I respect you, Bob. You stood up and took Kelson’s challenge when nobody else would. You haven’t backed down from a thing and, as far as I can tell, you look like a strong contender to win The Pyramid Scheme Match. So, what do you say? Bygones?
~Welsh extends his hand to Bob. It’s clear Marcus isn’t the man he used to be. Knux steps aside. Bob looks at the hand~
Smith: C’mon, Bob...shake it! Let’s bury the beef between you and Welsh once and for all!
Hood: Man, I don’t know about trying to settle old scores RIGHT AFTER a close, bitter loss. Kinda lacking in professional awareness.
~Grenier reaches out, grabs Welsh’s hand and pulls him close. He lifts Welsh up onto his shoulders and drops him with Hollinger Park Hangman!!!! The crowd BOOOS! Grenier rises back up. Knux goes after him, but he wastes Knux with a chair shot. Bob threatens Scruff...but Scruff dives out of the ring. Grenier slings the chair out of the ring and storms around, holding his neck, furious~
Smith: This isn’t going to go over well.
Hood: You think Bob Grenier gives a fuck?
~Bob stands over Welsh and yells~
Bob Grenier: You want to censor me and then shake my hand? Fuck Off!
~Grenier spits on Welsh and turns to the camera yelling “YOU CAN’T CENSOR THE KILLAZ!” He motions around his waist, “That OCW Title is MINE.” The fans boo. Empty drink containers and other forms of trash are thrown Bob’s way. He slaps them out of the air and makes lewd gestures toward the crowd~
Smith: It’s getting pretty rowdy out here.
Hood: No shit.
Smith: Bob Grenier may have been defeated but his spirit remains indefatigable! He’s a clear cut favorite to walk out OCW Champion in two weeks.
Hood: Yea, good luck censoring Bob and Chad if they are facing each other for the OCW Title in the main event of our March PPV.
Smith: Indeed! Folks, we’re out of time! We’ll see you next week LIVE from Bedrock City in Arizona! Goodnight everyone!
~Bob continues to incite the crowd as we cut away~