LIVE! July 11th 2022
FROM Fifth Third Arena
In Cincinnati, Ohio
~We cut to a shot of TMZ winning the Tag Titles from Dangerous Dan, Crazy Chris, and those dastardly DRAVERS Twins back at Technical Difficulties before Thaddeus Duke swooped in to save the entire roster before a volcano destroyed an entire island and civilization. Zybala is in tears. TLS is looking around awkwardly like, “Why is this grown man crying so much.” We fade out on the image. We cut to a local 7/11 where LEO is standing by~
Leo: Two months ago Mike Zybala won his first OCW title as he teamed with The Lost Stranger to defeat The Danger Boiz for the Tag Titles at Technical Difficulties.
~A chime sounds as the door to the 7/11 opens and a couple of fat guys walk out sipping on giant cups filled with soda. Leo looks at them and smiles~
Leo: Big Gulps, huh? … Alright!
~They look at each other like ‘wtf’...Leo turns back to the camera~
Leo: Tonight, Zybala and TLS will put their coveted tag titles on the line against the upstart team of Bob Grenier and JAM G. And, it should be noted, the last time the tag titles changed hands on Massacre was when the team of Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas were HANDED the tag titles BY...you guessed it, current owner MIKE ZYBALA.
~Interesting. Even more interesting are the two fat guys behind Leo staring at him, growing angrier by the second. One says, “Did he just fat shame us? IS HE FAT SHAMING US?”~
Leo: Zybala handed the tag titles to Grenier on Massacre back in 2019. Tonight, will Grenier TAKE the Tag Titles from Zybala? Can JAM G compete with three OCW legends? Will TLS break dance in the middle of the ring? What role with PTSD play in this? The Tag Team Titles are on the line in tonight’s main event sponsored by...7/11!
~Our camera pans to the 7/11 logo shining brightly in the darkening Cincinnati sky. We pan back to a smiling Leo~
Leo: Monday Night Massacre begins...NOW!
~The two fat guys yell at Leo. Leo turns and has a Big Gulp thrown at him. He dodges it and takes off as the two obese patrons chase after him. We cut to a sold out Fifth Third Arena in Cincinnati, Ohio! It’s filled to the BRIM (pun intended) with screaming, raving, sexed up OCW fans! Signs and chants add to the already hype vibe. We pan around before settling on Jones and Hood~
Jones: Welcome to Massacre! Excitement is in the air as the prestigious OCW Tag Titles are on the line TONIGHT.
Hood: I don’t know how prestigious they are considering JAM FUCKING G is involved.
Jones: Can BAM G shock the world or will Zybala and TLS keep their streak going?
Hood: Can’t believe I’m about to say this...but go Zybala.
Jones: We’ve got John Nash Strader making his debut. CJ O’Donnell, Easton Alexander, and Crash Rodriguez are all in action. Sahara makes her IN RING debut against Claudius Augustus AND Amick Dogeron looks to keep his momentum going as he faces Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson who is looking for a bounce back from his Prison Yard performance.
Hood: Some of that sounds rad. The rest sounds pretty bad.
Jones: Fans I’m getting word that an attack is happening in the parking lot.
Hood: We are in Cincinnati. How violent can it possibly be?I bet someone just tripped in a pothole and twisted an ankle.
~ The camera goes backstage to the parking lot and you see CJ O’Donnell attacking Killa Kali with a steel chair across his back. Another chair shot but this time to the ribs of Killa. Kali is leaning on the hood of a Blue Honda Accord. ~
Jones: I guess you were wrong Hood…
Hood: I never said I was perfect. But these two men have some hatred from one another.
Jones: CJ feels Killa stole his OCW Title opportunity in that Prison Yard Match.
Hood: It could have gone either way as both men went to war.
~CJ rams the head of Killa into the hood of the car. Killa tries to fight him off with a few elbow to O’Donnell’s abdomen but CJ with a thumb in the eye and then throws Killa head first into the driver side window. Kali is slumped over half inside half outside the car as CJ has a sadistic smirk on his face.~
Jones: These two men are going to seriously hurt one another.
Hood: That is the point. CJ and Killa are from the old school and want to just inflict pain on one another.
~ CJ gives Killa a few forearm shots to the back before he pulls him out of the car. Killa is busted open and CJ headbutts Killa a few times. Killa somehow sneaks a finger poke to the left eye of CJ. Killa shakes off the cobwebs as CJ grabs his eye and stumbles backwards a little. Killa goes running at O’Donnell ..~
Jones: CJ was playing possum and Killa paid the price.
Hood: Yeah getting hip tossed onto the hood of a car is not good for your back no matter how you land.
~Killa is laying on the hood of a Black Pathfinder as the blood continues to flow from his forehead. CJ hops up onto the hood of the car and picks Kali up. CJ smacks Killa and Killa smacks him back. Killa with another smack and then a knife edge chop. CJ stomps on the foot of Kali and then drives his thumb into the open wound on Killa’s forehead. CJ kicks him in the gut and then DDTs Kali through the windshield of the Black Pathfinder. CJ and Kali are both half in the vehicle as OCW officials finally arrive backstage. O’Donnell has a huge smile on his face as officials are checking on Kali. ~
Jones: When these two men do finally settle this score I bet it is going to be one of the most violent and bloodiest matches of OCW all time.
Hood: Neither of these men will ever be the same. They are going to take it to extreme levels and nothing is going to stop them.
Jones: On that, we agree. Folks, we're off to a fast start. More Massacre is coming your way!
~The camera cuts to the backstage area as Amick Dogeron is walking down the hall. One of the OCW staffers comes up to him.~
OCW Staffer: Hey Amick, don’t want to bother you but I was told to come find you to do some promotional photos for Truth or Consequences. Do you have a couple of minutes?
Amick: Sure man, just let me go take a leak and I’ll be right there.
~The staffer thanks Amick then heads around the corner as Amick continues walking. He rounds the corner when he spots Mike Zybala entering the bathroom.~
Amick: Hey Mike, wait up!
~Zybala doesn’t appear to have heard Amick and continues into the bathroom. Amick picks up his pace a bit and enters the door as well, but there is no one to be seen.~
Amick: Hello?
~He hears some grunting from behind one of the stalls and walks up to it.~
Amick: Hey man, it’s me… Amick.
~Aside from poop noises, no response.~
Amick: Listen, I know this maybe isn’t the time or the place, but there are some things I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and well… when I saw you come in here I… I just couldn’t wait any longer.
~Amick lets out a deep breath, then tightens his face a bit.~
Amick: Wow, that’s… that’s a really strong odor you’re putting out there. Umm, anyway, like I was saying, I’ve been watching you these past few weeks and I’ve noticed you seem to really be having a hard time. You just haven’t seemed like yourself lately and I’m starting to worry. I mean, that performance you put on at the PPV? That’s not you, not the you that I know anyway. And then last Monday, in the ring with the rest of PTSD… what was that? I never pegged you for the type of guy that would succumb to peer pressure like that.
~More poop noises. Amick’s face is turning red as he tries to hold his breath.~
Amick: You have always been someone I’ve admired. Maybe it’s not a thing wrestlers typically say to each other, but I look up to you, man. In some ways I’m probably modeling a little of my OCW run after you. And I know it’s gonna sound a little cliche, but… I think you’re better than PTSD. There, I said it, and I don’t regret it. You can do better than the rest of them.
~The toilet flushes, but more grunting occurs. It’s clear it was merely a courtesy flush.~
Amick: Thanks for that, I appreciate it. So, anyway… what I’m getting at is, well you know the Margarita Mix is coming up…
~An affirming grunt comes from the other side of the stall door.~
Amick: …and I know you have a partner lined up…
~Another grunt, followed by more poop noises.~
Amick: Ok, here goes. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m just a guy, standing in front of a bathroom stall, asking you to be my partner for the Margarita Mix.
~Amick pauses, but no response comes from the other side. I guess he’s not a Notting Hill fan.~
Amick: You might be asking yourself, why you? Why me… why us? It was a million little tiny things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together, and I knew it!
~Still no response. C’mon, Sleepless in Seattle?~
Amick: So I came to here to this bathroom tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your career tagging with somebody, you want the rest of your career to start as soon as possible.
~Amick waits, thinking surely he’d respond to the When Harry Met Sally reference. Still nothing. Time to pull out the big guns. The Notebook, here we come!~
Amick: Look, it’s not gonna be easy. It’s gonna be really hard and we’re gonna have to work at this every day. But I wanna do that because I want you as my partner. I want all of you as my partner, forever. You and me. Every day.
~Another flush comes from the other side of the stall. Amick takes a step back as the handle of the door begins to move. The door flings open, revealing… The Lost Stranger. Amick seems embarrassed after pouring his heart out to the wrong person. The Stranger just stares at him for a second, then walks over to Amick and gives him a big hug.~
TLS: You had me at hello.
~TLS turns and walks out of the bathroom, his Jerry McGuire reference leaving Amick confused.~
Amick: He didn’t even wash his hands…
Jones: And there it is again...three weeks away.
Hood: Rumors swirling it's Bobbinette Carey...which, if it is, get ready to learn how to act like your listening when you're really thinking about something else.
Jones: She talks that much, huh?
Hood: Yes
Jones: Is it Carey? or is it someone else? Epic Summer DROPS on July 31st at Truth or Consequences!
~The OCW Faithful POP loud in Ohio (being so close to Canada it might as well be a shitty province since they have Canadian Pennies) as the OCW CRAZE CHAMPION TAMIKA STRADER and VERONICA STRADER come in through the back door of the arena.~
Jones: Last week Hood, The Big Bifford gave Veronica Strader an OCW title shot and I bet she’s here to sign the dotted line!
Hood: But Plethora the Perilous is the champion, Jones.
Jones: We are still doing this?
Hood: I will die on this hill… or be killed by a scythe.
~Tamika looks to her niece on her right. A big smile on her face.~
Tamika: I’m so excited for you! You deserve this. The success OCW has found is because of your dedication and loyalty.
Veronica: Dylan, Zybala, The Stranger, BRIM, Outcast, Ed, PerZag… were just as much a part of it as I was, but I was pretty damn special and important.
Tamika: That you were and still are. I’m glad to see you back here. I know you had issues with how things worked out with the family and Duke, but it was for the best.
Veronica: *shifting uncomfortably in thought* I get it. I do. Anyways. Let’s find Marcus.
Tamika: Yeah, Eddy, Phil or Knifey have to be around here somewhere. Stay out of catering tho, that walking pair of tata’s is filled with bad jokes.
Veronica: So you two probably get along, huh?
Tamika: Hey! Yeah ok, that stacks.
~ The Strader women share a laugh as they commence the search for Marcus Welsh, who may or may not be crying in his office.~
Jones: It’s going to be officially official! Veronica vs Bifford. OCW title! July 18th!
Hood: Settle down, you mark.
Jones: Oh look it’s Alice!
Hood: ALICE?!
John Nash Strader (0-0) vs. Mad Max (0-3)
Belvedere: The Following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing Mad Max’s opponent…
Jones: This should be over and done right quick, Hood.
Hood: So will this mean every Strader has spanked that ass?
Jones: Pretty sure she could crack your skull with her thighs, Hood.
Hood: Don’t kink shame me.
//Who’s that writin’? John The Revelator//
~The sound of a vinyl record coming to a screeching halt fills the arena and the cool bluesy riff from Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top starts to play “Concrete and Steel” and the sound of 1942 Harley Davidson Panhead can be heard revving from behind the entrance curtain.~
Belvedere: Introducing…
// Hard and cold, like a street of gold,
Hey baby, what's the deal?//
Belvedere: hailing from the nation of Mayhem…
~John Nash Strader rolls out (with Who’re riding in front of him as this bike has no bitch seat) on his blacked-out tank and frame Panhead as the engine and tailpipe are a blinding chrome. He smirks, raising his left fist, he salutes everyone in front of him.~
Belvedere: Another one of those damn Straders and accompanied by Who’re…
//A heart of stone make you feel alone,
Belvedere: He is the founding member of the Brothers of Mayhem Motorcycle Club… JOHN NASH STRADER!!!!!!!!
~He hits the throttle kicking it into gear and speeds down to ringside as Who’re throws her arms up in the air, fists raised up. . He circles the ring and parks to the right side of the ramp. He takes off his leather kutte, handing it to Who’re, along with his buck knife as well. He walks up the steps, wipes his boots and steps through the ropes. He follows up his panty moistening smile with the Strader Family Sneer leaning back against the ropes staring at Mad Max who has gotten used to that look from the other ones.~
~ DING DING DING ~
~ John cracks his neck, moving his head side to side moving to meet Max in the centre of the ring. He holds his hand up in a test of strength and as she accepts he sends a big boot right into her sternum, making her gasp for air. ~
Jones: JNS with trickery on the test of strength!
Hood: How is the Enhancement Talent still that stupid?
~ She goes to retaliate with a Tornado DDT, but he spins her around and nails THE UNFORGIVEN (Cross-Rhodes), and arrogantly stands up, placing his boot on her chest as Puff drops to make the count. ~
1!
2!!
3!!!
~ DING DING DING ~
Belvedere: And your winner… JOHN NASH STRADER!!!!
~ “Concrete and Steel” starts back up as John rolls out of the ring, and walks over to Who’re who puts his kutte on him. He sits down on his bike as Who’re takes a seat in front of him, leaning back and grabbing his legs for support. They ride up the ramp, filling the arena with Screaming Eagle tail pipe. ~
Jones: Those two bonded quick.
Hood: Of course they did. She’s a whore who likes big dick.
Jones: Hood! We are on a made up network! We don’t need to be cancelled!
Hood: #CBSCares
It's easy to find but so hard to hold.
Smooth and strong but it won't last long,
When the rust sets in, she'll be good as gone! Concrete, Concrete and steel. It's like concrete.
But what can you do when your hand is blown?
Hard as ice, it's like tumblin' dice,
Before you fall for her boy, you better think twice.//
~We cut to the stage as Ball Ball explodes out from backstage. His incredible length allows him to gain maximum distance due to his long ass strides. A bunch of Goons tunnel out quickly behind him. The music guy couldn’t even get the shit started in time. Ball Ball reaches the ring and grabs a mic and finally “Wild Thing” begins to play. Ball Ball takes a giant stride and steps into the ring. The Goons crowd around the ring~
Goons: YUURRRRR
~The crowd boos as Ball Ball reaches the center of the ring and raises his lanky ass arm. He begins to speak into the mic~
Ball Ball: Hello Ohio.
~The crowd is already not eating this up. They continue their efforts to try and boo him off the stage~
Ball Ball: Now Ball Ball knows America doesn’t like Ball Ball. Ball Ball hates America, but that’s beside the point. Ball Ball is here to make a name for Ball Ball. Ball Ball wants to be the best on the planet. The best wrestler known to mankind. To Allkind, you believe in aliens? Ball Ball doesn’t. Aliens believe in Ball Ball.
Crowd: BOOOOOOO! Get off the stage! Nobody cares!
~Ball Ball completely ignores all the boos and continues talking~
Ball Ball: Ball Ball just needs to make a few points and Ball Ball will be gone. Starting from the bottom.
~Ball Ball takes a deep breath before beginning his list~
Ball Ball: Sahara Duke, you’re a bum. Garry Nelson, you’re a bum. Alexandra Calaway, you’re a bum. Curt Canon, you’re a bum. Claudius Augustus, you’re a bum. Killa Kali, Amick Dogeron, Cypher, you’re all bums. Mark Storm, Easton Alexander, CJ O’Donnell, all the Straders, bums. BRIM and Mike Zybala, all bums.
~The crowd seems electric with boos. Nobody likes the fact that some dude who just got here is calling out almost everybody for no reason~
Ball Ball: As for Plethora and Jace Parker Davidson, you’re champions. So Ball Ball won't outright say you’re bums. But Ball Ball will say you’re both about as good as the last bunch of people Ball Ball has listed.
~Ball Ball points to Jones~
Ball Ball: Jones man, you’re also a bum, fuck you.
Jones: Bro what I do?
~Ball Ball drops the mic as the crowd begins to throw stuff at him. Burgers and hot dogs start flying into the ring as Ball Ball and his Goons start flooding out running backstage. A burger flies towards the camera and smokes it right in the lens as the screen cuts to black~
~ John Nash Strader stands outside Marcus Welsh’s office with his FRATERNAL twin, Tamika, chatting away. ~
JNS: Yeah, I mean, it’s not much of a win. It was only Maxine. Is it just me, or does she seem to have stopped caring? I mean, Meg beat the hell out of her when she was training her for this? They were almost tag team champions at one point. Now look at her, it’s a damn shame.
Tamika: Oh, yeah, we all have smacked her around now. That should cover the receipt this family owes her.
JNS: Have you ran into Victoria yet? I am not sure I understand how that’s even possible.
Tamika: None of us are. They went from being two in one to be their own individuals in their own bodies. Stay away for Porta-Potties here, they could be a PORTAL POTTY!
Jones: That’s right folks, at Technical Difficulties while stuck on Milftown Island, Veronica came out of the PORTAL POTTY after falling into it after a hellacious battle with TLS to retain her then TransAtlantic Championship, she was followed out by Victoria.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~ Tamika adjusts the Craze championship on her shoulder and John laughs to himself. ~
Tamika: What’s do damn funny, chuckles?
JNS: Do you wear that everywhere you go?
Tamika: Not everywhere. I don’t wear it in the shower. Bad for the leather.
~ Before John can reply Marcus’s door opens and outwalks Veronica holding up the contract. ~
Veronica: It’s official! Veronica Strader vs Plethora The Perilous, OCW title next week MAIN EVENT!
~ The Srader Clan celebrates in a group hug. John smiles proudly. ~
JNS: Proud of you kid, you have a chance to bring a top title back home to this family. I can’t say I am surprised that it’s you.
Tamika: He’s right. You have worked so hard to get to this point. You are gonna do great no matter what. Your mamabear is proud of you.
Veronica: I will give Bifford everything I have. For Outcast, and most importantly for me!
Jones: Hood, this is a battle of the ages. We know our Champion doesn’t care to acknowledge anyone he doesn’t have some sort of history with so him even giving Veronica Strader a title shot says a lot.
Hood: He’s probably trolling her.
Jones: Even so, it’s a huge boost and well deserved. Rumour is she had turned down shots while Outcast was champion so she could become the greatest TransAtlantic Champion in OCW history with names like Vhodka Black, Mack O’Connor, and Betsy Granger attached to the belt.
Hood: Fucking mark.
Jones: Whatever! I’m stoked! More action coming folks!
Hood: It better be what we wall came to see… HARDCORE NUDITY!
Easton Alexander (8-8) vs. Jack Puffer (0-3)
~Jack Puffer stands in the ring, investigating a major crime. Somebody seems to have misplaced their Ball Ball extra long Straw Straw. Puffer stands on the middle buckle looking into the crowd, trying to find it~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, The Good Detective, Jack Puffer!!!
~A moderate pop for the Good Detective~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~Maniac By Carpenter Brut hits as the light's start to move around the stadium, finally settling in a spot light on the ramp. Easton Alexander walks into the light looking straight into it, he removes his hood as sparks begin to fall behind him, deflecting off his shoulders~
Belvedere: From North bay Ontario Canada, He is The Canadian Dragon... EASTON ALEXANDER.
~Easton steps up into the ramp, and climbs the turnbuckle taking in the crowds energy, he extends his arms out toward the crowd as they ERUPT in cheers. he hops off into the ring, he removes his jacket and stands in the corner facing away~
Jones: And Easton back in the ring after his tough loss last week against Amick Dogeron.
Hood: His finisher is still banned, right?
Jones: Correct.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds~
Jones: And here we go!
~Puffer hops off the turnbuckle and turns toward Easton. Easton turns around and heads for Puffer. The two men lock up in the center of the ring...Easton lifts a quick knee into Puffer’s midsection, doubling him over. He hooks Puffer around the waist and throws him over with a Gut Wrench Suplex! Puffer lands hard~
Jones: Tremendous strength by Easton there with the deadlift Gut Wrench Suplex.
Hood: Easton’s coming on, for sure.
Jones: He went with a ‘breather’ this week. Not a bad idea to get a win and gain some momentum.
Hood: Hey, the match is still going!
~Easton pulls Puffer up and he blitzes him with three rapid fire forearm strikes before spinning around and DECKING the good detective with a roaring forearm! Puffer is out on his feet...Easton bends him over and double underhooks his arms. The crowd rises...they lean forward...they hold their breath. Easton stares into the camera~
Jones: Don’t do it, Easton!
Hood: Do it! Better to ask for forgiveness than permission!
Jones: But he KNOWS he’s not permitted to do this.
Hood: Rules were made to be broken, Jones. DO IT, EASTON
~Easton pulls Puffer up and spins around, dropping him with Cursed Night instead of Dragon Driver 98! The fans sigh with relief...crisis averted. Drama detoured. Easton covers Puffer and Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...EASTON ALEXANDER!!!!!
HOOD: Easton Alexander picks up the win here on Massacre in rather convincing fashion!
JONES: The man hasn’t had the best of luck of late and no doubt, it has to feel great for him getting back to victory lane tonight after Thaddeus Duke cost him his match last week!
HOOD: That’s not…
JONES: Did Thad have Easton distracted or not, Hood!?
HOOD: He did!
JONES: Thad knew what he was doing, Hood! He made his decision on Dragon Driver 98 right when Easton Alexander was about to put Amick Dogeron away! That was by design!
~Fresh off his victory, Belvedere hands Easton Alexander a mic. As soon as Easton grabs it you can hear how sharp and labored his breathing is.
Easton: If you all will just give me one second to collect my thoughts, I've got something to say.
~The faithful cheer, giving Easton a minute to catch his breath.
Easton: Well… Well… Well, Ohio I am not a very happy Dragon, for a month now it feels like my back has been against the wall… it feels like i have nobody to trust, and it feels like my dream is slipping between my fingertips, but tonight everythings gonna change, and it starts at the top… with “management.” SO… Mr Duke, would you please walk down to the ring so we settle this issue…
HOOD: Easton has some balls on him, that’s for sure!
JONES: Thad hasn’t been in the ring in almost two months, I like Easton’s chances here!
~With no answer from Thaddeus Duke, Easton goes to speak again.
Easton: Honestly i should have expected this, the great Thaddeus Duke would never lower himself to talking with a rookie… but Thad this has gone too far, you are actively trying to ruin my rise in this company and i want to know why, why do you feel that this is some fucking crusade against me, just what is your problem… SO THAD… get your ass down here right now.
HOOD: That may be the case, Jones, but Thaddeus Duke is a highly decorated world class veteran despite his youth and Easton would do well to be careful what he wishes for.
JONES: You might be right, but I think you’re underselling Easton Alexander’s abilities inside that ring.
~Still no answer, Easton is pacing around the ring prepared for anything, but no majority owner, Easton lifts the mic to his mouth once again.
Easton: Do they know Thad? Does she know? Your group of stooges that follow you around like puppies… Do they know? Do they know how much of a spineless, worthless, cowardly piece of human trash you really are, you have no idea who your fucking with, i dont have the same name value of some other guys but i know what im worth, and im worth more than this bullshit. You are taking money away from me… taking food off my table, so get down here so I can kick your ass and take back my life!
HOOD: Here comes the boss!
JONES: Jesus Christ, Hood, how’s Thad’s dick taste?
HOOD: According to my sources? Very good.
~At long last, Thaddeus Duke emerges from backstage to a mixed reaction from the capacity Cincinnati crowd.
JONES: That’s right home boy! We’re not in New York anymore!
HOOD: I hate to say Thad seems thrown off by the mixed reaction but…
~As the music fades, Thad goes to speak but is immediately cut off by Easton Alexander.
Easton: Finally… i've been waiting for so long to look you in the eyes and say this, do you know how much you’ve taken from me, it's not just the money… its my fucking dignity, its my love for this great sport, so here i am now… standing in front of my boss, a boss who doesnt see me as anything less than a burden, i know you expected something like this so let me just say it… if you hate me so much than why dont we settle this right now, me and you in a match right here right now!
HOOD: Strong words from Easton to Thad here tonight on Massacre!
JONES: I’m not even sure if Thad is even medically cleared to compete yet!
HOOD: Knowing Thad the way I do, I’m not sure it’ll matter!
~Thad starts to make his way toward the ring. Removing his shirt, he slows to a stop at the end of the aisle near the foot of ringside. Inside the ring, Easton paces back and forth, begging for Thad to get in the ring.
THAD: You can call me spineless, Easton. You can call me a coward all you like, but I’ve never, not once backed down from a fight. See, the problem is, you’re calling me out to fight you when I’ve not been medically cleared after heart surgery.
You do know how serious that is right?
~Easton rolls his eyes and stops pacing. Instead, electing to lean against the ropes, facing Thaddeus Duke.
HOOD: It’s very serious!
~Thad runs his finger down the length of his chest scar.
THAD: Did you know they crack your chest open at the sternum for that?
~Easton shrugs.
THAD: What you need to learn about me Easton, is nothing I do professionally is personally motivated. Everything I do, is what I feel is what’s best for business in every particular situation.
Banning you from using Dragon Driver 98 was never personally motivated as you seem to think it was. I banned it Easton, because you damn near broke Alexandra Calaway’s neck. See, I don’t really give a damn about you or about Calaway on a personal level but protecting company assets is what’s best for business.
Dragon Driver 98 is banned and it will stay that way.
~On the far side of the ring, a rather large, curly blond haired man steps over the security barrier at ringside, causing a small ruckus from the crowd as Thaddeus speaks. Easton though, doesn’t recognize it as the boss speaks.
JONES: I know who that is!
HOOD: So do I!
JONES: Behind you, Easton!
~Thaddeus Duke starts up the ring steps toward Easton. On the opposite side, behind Easton, the towering powerhouse starts up those steps.
HOOD: That’s Cyrus Braddock!
JONES: Former bodyguard to Thaddeus Duke!
HOOD: Unwavering loyalty to the majority owner!
~Thaddeus steps through the ropes and into the ring as Easton backs up toward the center of the ring. Behind Easton, big Cyrus Braddock also steps into the ring.
THAD: Easton, there’s nothing I’d like more right now than to mix it up with you and everyone else in OCW between these ropes. It just can’t happen right now.
What I will give you though… is Justice.
~Cyrus Braddock takes his cue and raises up onto his toes in anticipation. Easton senses something and turns to look behind him. Catching Braddock out of the corner of his eye, Easton turns to face him but not quick enough as he eats a standing lariat from the 6’9” Tower of Power. Easton falls to the mat, clutching his head and neck as Braddock stands over him. Thad meanwhile, backs off toward the corner and leans, watching the scene unfold before him.
HOOD: Down goes Easton Alexander!
JONES: This is ridiculous!
HOOD: Justice is being served!
~As the Cyrus Braddock ‘mood’ music plays and already having a match, also being stunned by the lariat, Easton is easy pickins for the large Duke bodyguard. Braddock reaches down, placing both hands around the throat of Easton Alexander. Powering him up off the mat to a vertical position, Cyrus Braddock lifts Easton high into the air one-handed and slams him to the mat with a chokeslam.
JONES: Easton Alexander is being assaulted here on Massacre! By the biggest goon in Thaddeus Duke’s employ!
HOOD: He called out the Lion, Jones! Knowing full well Thad is not medically able to get physical!
~Cyrus looks around the booing Cincinnati crowd before looking over at Thaddeus who nods at him with a smirk on his face. Grabbing Easton by his hair, Braddock lifts him to his feet and places his head between his legs. Braddock pauses and looks out around the crowd. Making a ‘T’ symbol in the air with his right hand while looking at his smiling boss, Cyrus lifts Easton up, spins him around, and slams him to the mat.
JONES: And a vicious powerbomb from Braddock to Alexander as this assault on Thaddeus Duke’s behalf continues!
HOOD: Easton Alexander brought this on himself, Jones!
~Braddock looks at Thad, who nods as ‘Animal Magnetism’ continues to play at low volume in Cincinnati. Again, Cyrus peels Alexander off the mat and again, he’s powerbombed right back down after the ‘T’ hand gesture..
JONES: This can not feel good on those ailing ribs!
HOOD: Good! He deserves every bit of this! I have it on good authority that Easton was responsible for Thaddeus Duke’s slashed tires after last weeks Massacre!
JONES: This is a vicious assault, Hood! On an up and coming star and I think Easton was right! Thad is just trying to bury him!
~A third time, Easton Alexander is peeled off the mat by Cyrus Braddock. For a third time, the big man makes his ‘T’ symbol hand gesture before planting Easton on the mat.
HOOD: That has never been Thad’s way! There’s something going on here that no one is seeing in regards to Thaddeus Duke. I’m not gonna be the one to explain what it is that’s happening, I’ll leave that to the boss to divulge that information at the appropriate time!
JONES: Hood, you can sugarcoat this all you want! This is assault, pure and simple!
~Thad holds up the stop sign as he lies on the mat next to Easton Alexander.
THAD: The justice I was referring to, Easton, was the Lion’s Justice.
I hope you’ll take tonight into consideration as we move forward here. Everything I do as it relates to OCW and wrestling in general, is because it’s what’s best for business and I know that phrase is uttered so much that it’s kind of a cliche, but what I need you to understand Easton, is that I don’t even dislike you.
But see, what you had to know is that I would retaliate for my slashed tires in some form or fashion.
~Thad turns his head toward the unconscious Easton Alexander.
THAD: I didn’t forget that, buddy.
~’Animal Magnetism’ increases in volume as Thad rolls out of the ring with Cyrus Braddock in toe. The Cincinnati crowd boos the duo heavily but Thad pays them no mind as they walk up the aisle toward the entrance way.
HOOD: Justice has been served to Easton Alexander tonight here in Cincinnati!
JONES: This is an absolute outrage, Hood!
~Curt Canon is backstage enjoying a steady diet of Double Stuffed Oreo's and Miller High Life when Bob approaches him with a Ukulele in hand. He strums a traditional Hawaiin tune.~
Curt: What is this?
~Bob strums a few more chords with a smile on his face. He sparks a joint. He then offers it to Curt, Who refuses~
Curt: Never touch the stuff. If Reefer Madness taught me anything it's that marijuana will turn you into an axe murderer or at the very least, A jazz musician.
~Curt shudders at the thought and Bob laughs~
Bob: Anyway.. Curt, Will you be my partner? For the Margarita Mix?
Curt: Whoa, calm it down. I’m retired. I’m only here to catch up with the boys, and to say some Hellos, and goodbyes.
Bob: You have been retired before, and have come back so why would this time be any different?
Curt: Well Bob, I have found a new calling in life. Ever since I lost Checkers, my lifestyle has changed, my motives have changed.
Bob: Look, you can tell yourself whatever you need to, but hear me out. You're a hall of famer I'm a hall of famer, You like Oreos I like Oreos…
~Curt cuts Bob off~
Curt: You smoke weed, I drink High Life.
Bob: See, it's fate Curt. This is meant to be.
Curt: I think you have been smoking way too much of the marijuana.
Bob: I don’t think you have been smoking enough.
~Bob takes a puff and slowly exhales it. Curt waves his hand in front of his face to make the smoke dissipate quicker.~
Bob: I figured there would be some push back, so let me sweeten the deal.
~Bob opens a nearby door, a monkey emerges.~
Bob: Allow me to introduce you to the third member of our crew, I know you'll never be able to replace your beloved Checkers.. But this is Millie.
~Millie runs up to Curt and jumps into his arms. Startled, Curt just stares and she stares back.. They hold eye contact until Millie tightens her grip around Curt and plants a kiss on his cheek.~
Curt: Millie…
Bob: Well, what do ya say?
Curt: Ya really know how to tug at my heartstrings. You got yourself a Mix partner, but don’t expect anything crazy, I’m old and tired.
Bob: I think this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful partnership..
Curt: Bob, one last thing though. Don't ever play the ukulele again.
~Curt grabs the Ukulele and chucks it into a nearby trash can. ~
Jones: Curt Canon and Bob Grenier are going to team up for the MIX!
Hood: And, by joining forces, they combine to equal one normal, functioning human brain.
Jones: I think we might have a new favorite in the MIX. TWO Hall of Famers.
Hood: Blah blah blah
Jones: The MIX field is the most competitive we've ever seen, fans! Stay tuned as teams continue to form! More Monday Night Massacre action after these commercials!
~CJ O’Donnel is walking down the hall when the janitors closet behind him opens. Killa Kali comes out holding a metal mop bucket. Swinging as hard as he can, it crashes into the back of CJs head, knocking him to his knees.. Reaching back in, Killa Kali grabs a mop and breaks it over CJs back. As CJ tries to rise, Killa Kali grabs a broom and breaks that over his head. Finally, CJ drops to the ground. Killa Kali stands over him, looking down at him~
Killa Kali: CJ, I gotta give it to you my little Irish friend. You are one tough motherfucker. I have to say, these little squabbles of ours are preparing me to take down the Fat Ass known as our World Champion.
~Sauntering down the hall, Killa Kali starts whistling like Omar from The Wire, laughing and remembering that great show~
Jones: And Kali returns the favor. You can’t attack the man and not expect some sort of retaliation.
Hood: I’d say that attack might hurt his odds in his match against Gilbert but...it’s Gilbert. He’ll be fine.
Jones: Kali and JPD seem to be on the same ‘let’s make friends’ tour. Will their paths wind up crossing?
Hood: I’d say so, as long as WEAK ASS BOOKING doesn’t come into play...which it always does.
Crash Rodriguez (6-2) vs. Sugar Valentine (0-4)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring.. SUGAR VALENTINE!
~Sugar walks out of his corner, waving at the crowd enthusiastically~
Belvedere: And his opponent…
~“No Love” by the Death Grips begins to play, filling the arena with ritualistic thumps. The crowd begins stomping and clapping to the beat, just as Crash Rodriguez takes the stage, as Louis Pohl carries Bash Rodriguez close behind. As the Crooked Man glances around, his lips curl into a crooked smile.~
Belvedere: From Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at 207 pounds, he is The Crooked Man, CRASH RODRIGUEZ!
~Belvedere exits the ring as Puff calls for the bell, and not a second sooner as Crash Rodriguez starts laying into Sugar Valentine with a barrage of forearms, pushing him into the corner. As he leans against the turnbuckle Crash lets a pair of wicked chops loose. Valentine holds his chest, as if fearful that his nipples would fall off.~
Jones: Crash comes out the gate red-hot.
~The Crooked Man grabs him by his hair, yanking him to the middle of the ring. Crash tugs at his hair, causing him to run towards him, only to be caught by a hellacious clothesline. He lays on his stomach, as Crash puts the boots to him, continuously battering away at his face and back. Outside the ring, young Bash is clapping as Louis Pohl cheers. The Crooked Dad smiles as he sees the two so happy with his work thus far. The Crooked Man leans over Sugar Valentine, lifting him up by his hair.~
Hood: Fucking Christ, there’s more hair pulling tonight than a lesbian porno
Jones: A dirty tactic indeed
Hood: All sex is dirty, Jones.
~Sugar wobbles and nearly topples over. He tries to make an escape, falling to the mat and rolling under the bottom ropes. Crash looks confused, as Puff starts the count~
1…
2…
3…
Come on, get in the ring!
~Sugar Valentine waves away Puff’s demand, he’s had enough of being a punching bag tonight. Crash looks around the crowd, as they boo Valentine’s decision to walk out. His lips curl into a crooked smile as he takes off towards the ropes. Throwing all caution to the wind, Crash steps up on the top rope and leaps towards his retreating prey. Crash comes down hard on Sugar Valentine with a crossbody. He pulls himself off of him, and looks at his body laying motionless at ringside now. Lifting him by his hair once again, he walks him back into the ring, sliding him under the bottom rope, before sliding in behind him~
Lou Pohl: Kill him!
~Crash smiles as he lifts Sugar up to his feet, only for him to quickly be hanging upside down on the Crooked Man’s back, the crowd goes crazy as Crash drops to his ass, hitting Sugar Valentine with THE CRASH LANDING! He lays in the center of the ring, all but dead, as Crash lifts him up again~
Jones: Oh come on! It’s already won, just pin him Crash!
~Crash once again hoists him upside down on his back. He steps around the ring, as if parading off his sickish act, before dropping him onto his neck for a second time with another CRASH LANDING! Crash slides over him for the pin, and Puff drops to his hands and knees, delivering exactly what the Crooked Man wants~
1…
2…
3!
~Puff calls for the bell, as Crash pulls himself off the nigh-dead Valentine and makes his way out the ring~
Belvedere: And the winner, CRASH RODRIGUEZ!!!!!
~Lou and Bash come running over, congratulating him. Crash grabs his son as he makes his way up the ramp~
~The camera cuts to Gilbert in the hallway. He’s changing out of his tighty whities and into his wrestling costume. His plushy of Alice Knight is sitting on a box nearby staring at him. Gilbert stares back while changing~
Gilbert: N-Now don’t give me that look Alice. I never wanted a rematch with CJ.
~Gilbert pauses, staring at the plush~
Gilbert: I suppose you’re right. And after this, when I win….do you think that I have a chance with real Alice? Not that you’re not perfect, but you know there’s laws against well….being with a plushy.
~The camera fades out back to Jones and Hood~
Hood: Don’t tell me that Gilbert has been having good times with his Alice Knight plushy?
Jones: I….think so, Hood.
Hood: **BARF** Hey, Thad…. Are you sure you want Gilbert around still?
Jones: Hood: He is going against CJ O’Donnell next.
Hood: Oh yeah, true. CJ, my man! Do what you do best.
Jones: It’s CJ vs Gilbert II and it’s coming up after this break!
Catch the Replay of Reformation for the ULTRA LOW PRICE of $69.69!!!!
~We open inside one of the locker rooms where we find Crash Rodriguez feeding the young Bash Rodriguez, as he sings him a song.
Crash is in great condition...Sugar didn't put up much of a fight~
Crash: So, ladies, yeah, ladies, yeah
~Bash finishes his bottle, and burps before letting out a chuckle~
Crash: Damn boy, you sure were hungry, huh? Gotta slow down or you’ll be bigger than Bifford.
~Crash stands as his son lays his head on his shoulder, preparing to fall asleep, when Lou comes barrelling into the room~
Lou: Kid! You gotta help me!?
~Crash spins around finding the former attorney in terrible shape. His eye is swollen shut, his nose sports a trail of dried blood that soaked into his once beautiful mustache. He limps forward, as he holds onto broken ribs, wincing in pain with each step~
Crash: JESUS FUCK LOU! Your suit’s ruined!
Lou: My suit? Kid, I’m bleeding internally. We gotta get to a hospital.
Crash: What happened?
~Lou looks away from Crash, as if wanting to escape from the question that lingers in the air~
Crash: Lou? What fucking happened to you?
~The former attorney leans his back against some lockers as he tries to steady his breathing~
Lou: I went to talk to that vile Strader woman. I know, I know, you wanted to drop it and move on, but I- I couldn’t just - oh fuck, my ribs - I couldn’t sit back and watch her play you a fool any longer.
Crash: Lou…
~Crash steps over to Lou, Bash reaching out his hands towards the sleazeball manager~
Lou: Sorry kid, It’s just... She sneaks away with the win, then parades around with that #TamikaCares nonsense. Well, I started unloading on her, and- Well, my verbal assault must’ve been too much to handle. So she did this.”
~Crash’s eyes widen to saucer size, before his face washes over with a look of pure rage~
Crash: Where is she?
Lou: Kid, I appreciate the idea, but we gotta go to the hospital man. I needa doctor.
Crash: Alright, Let’s get you going. Take it slow, don’t hurt yourself.
~Crash walks out the room carrying his son in one arm and holding Lou up with the other~
Jones: Crash going from in ring warrior to bottle feeding father.
Hood: Now THAT's talent.
Jones: Meanwhile, Lou is in bad shape. Sounds like Tamika Strader gave him a good WHAT FOR
Hood: He probably declined her offer to make another Strader.
Jones: I don't want to speculate...but I'm sure Crash won't be happy about this.
Hood: Neither will Bash. Did you see that look in his eye? He was PISSED
Jones: I must have missed it. Alright fans, it's time for more in-ring action as CJ O'Donnell steps back into the ring to face Gilbert for a second time!
Hood: See? This is what happens when you purge all the jobbers!
Jones: To the ring!
If you wanna roll in my Mercedes, oh yeah
Then turn around, stick it out
Even white boys got to shout
Baby got back
CJ O’Donnell (13-3) vs. Gilbert (1-5)
Belvedere: Our following contest is set for one fall with a fifteen minute time limit.
Jones: Gilbert looks a little more confident tonight since the last time we saw him.
Hood: Yeah but he is facing CJ tonight.
Jones: CJ seems to have taken a liking to Gilbert.
Hood: It is all a part of his plan. He is going to get Gilbert to trust him and then BAM lights out.
Jones: Well we will find out if CJ is a man of his word. He promised not to use Irish Knowledge again.
Belvedere: Standing in the ring to my right is Gilbert.
~Gilbert is in the ring. He stands in the corner and raises his arms up in the air. He begins to shadow box but trips over his own two feet and hits his face on the turnbuckle. ~
Hood: That looked like it hurt.
Jones: Gilbert seems to be okay as he gives a thumbs up to the Cincinnati crowd.
~ Gilbert gives a thumbs up and then fixes his glasses on his face. He goes back to the corner awaiting his opponent. ~
Hood: How long do you think this match is going to last?
Jones: Not too long Hood. I think CJ wants to make a statement here tonight and have an easy night. Especially since he is still recovering from that Prison Yard Match.
Hood: You think we may have a finger poke of doom match.
Belvedere: And his opponent from Boston, Massachusetts…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 178lbs…he is a former OCW Tag Team Champion … “The Distinguished'' CJ O’Donnell!!!
~“Kings Never Die” by Eminem hits. Boos fill the arena before the arrival of ‘The Distinguished’. CJ emerges from behind the curtain looking ready for combat. He soaks in the hate which acts as fuel motivating the man to be the best. He heads down the aisle way, arms outstretched which only draws more heat. A fan yells at him…CJ pauses and looks the fan in the eye. CJ laughs and continues heading to the ring, finding the fan to be pathetic. He hustles up the steps and enters into the ring. He looks at Gilbert and Gilbert stares back at him. ~
~DING DING DING~
Jones: And there is the bell …
Hood: GIlbert comes charging at CJ ..
~ CJ sees Gilbert charging at him and attempts a clothesline but Gilbert ducks underneath it. CJ looks shocked and turns around right into a right open hand slap to the chest of CJ. Gilbert with a boot to the midsection then a stomp on the foot before going for an uppercut but CJ blocks it with a knee to the gut. O’Donnell grabs Gilbert and irish whips him into the corner. Gilbert bounces out of the corner and goes for a clothesline. He connects but it does not knock down The Distinguished; it only staggers him. ~
Jones: I don’t think we will ever see that again.
Hood: Yeah CJ isn’t the biggest competitor in the ring. Gilbert is fighting like a man who has something to prove.
Jones: Yeah I wonder what got into him…
Hood: Maybe he got a taste of some poontang pie…
~ Gilbert open hands slaps CJ’s chest again and then bounces off the ropes. On the rebound CJ catches Gilbert by surprise with a dropkick to the knee. Gilbert clutches at his right knee. CJ then begins to stomp away at the back of the head of Gilbert as Scruff just looks on.~
Jones: I guess that second open hand slap woke up CJ.
Hood: Yeah I don’t think he was expecting this much of a fight out of Gilbert.
~ CJ picks up Gilbert and then scoop slams him to the mat. Within seconds he follows it up with an elbow drop across the sternum of Gilbert. Gilbert’s glasses fall off on the mat and CJ is about to step on them. He walks out and picks them up. He puts them back on the face of Gilbert. Gilbert is gasping for air…~
Jones: Look at that CJ actually doing the right thing and not destroying a man’s property…
Hood: Didn’t you see earlier in the night what happened to Killa?
Jones: Yeah I did but we are living in the present not in the past.
~ Gilbert tho shocks everyone and grabs CJ necks and hooks him with a small package. Scruff looks shocked as CJ is trying to kick out …~
ONE
TWO
KICKOUT
Jones: HOLY SHIT that was almost the upset of the millenium…
Hood: Yeah it certainly was. I don’t think anyone saw that coming, not even Gilbert ...
~Scruff holds up two fingers as CJ looks back at him and then back at Gilbert. Gilbert is getting back to his feet as CJ does a kip up. CJ and Gilbert lock up and O’Donnell being the crafty veteran that he is, drives his elbow into the side of the head of Gilbert. As Gilbert grabs the side of his head CJ connects with an uppercut that staggers Gilbert backwards and right into the corner. CJ wasting no time connects with a stiff clothesline. Gilbert is being held up by the ropes and this time CJ returns the favor with a slap across the chest … another slap … Gilbert grabs at his chest before CJ this time connects with a knife edge chop. Gilbert walks out of the corner holding his chest gasping for air. ~
Jones: This might be the longest match of Gilbert’s career Hood...
Hood: Yeah but look at CJ it looks as if he is going for Irish Knowledge…
Jones: Didn’t he promise Gilbert he wouldn’t use that move tonight?
Hood: He did. Let’s see if he keeps his word…
~CJ comes charging at Gilbert. Gilbert covers up his face with both his hands trying to block Irish Knowledge but it leaves him open. CJ connects with a spear. The impact of the maneuver knocks off Gilbert’s glasses flying into the air and Scruff catches them. He puts them on and immediately takes them off and shakes his head. CJ covers Gilbert as Scruff slides into position to make the count…~
ONE
TWO
THREE
Belvedere: The winner of this match … “THE DISTINGUISHED” CALEB JAMES O’DONNELL!!!
Jones: CJ getting back on the winning ways here tonight.
Hood: Was it ever a question.
Jones: Not really but Gilbert did put up a good fight. Stick around, folks! More Massacre after these messages!
Crash Rodriguez: STRADER!
~ Tamika, without her brother or niece nearby, turns around to see a very angry looking Crash coming at her full bore.~
Tamika: Whoa big boy, why you all aggro, man?
~ Crash steps right into her personal space. ~
Crash: You know why I am here!
Tamika: Out of formula already? Man, you know how hard that was to get? Did that bitch Lou make White Russians with it?
~ Crash leans back and cracks Tamika right in the face with a stiff forearm, sending her back into the wall. ~
Crash: He’s passed middle-aged and doesn’t train like us! How could you hit an old man like that?!
~ Tamika wipes some blood from her lip, as she grips her title belt. ~
Tamika: Wait, someone beat up Lou? That’s funny.
~ Crash goes to punch her but she holds up her Craze title and his knuckles connect centre-plate. He grabs his fist in discomfort and Tamika doesn’t hesitate as she slams his across the head with the strap. She drops the title and squares up with Crash, as they begin trading shots. ~
Jones: Oh man, I guess things weren’t settled at Reformation last month!
Hood: My man Crash wants that Craze Championship! Will he get a fourth shot ya think?
~ Tamika is about to drive Crash’s head into the wall when The Knife Man pulls Crash back, Machete Phil is holding back the onlookers and Eddy Bueger pulls Tamika away from him, her lip bleeding like a sieve. Marcus Welsh comes around the corner, shaking his head. ~
Marcus Welsh: Did you two not work this out at Reformation?!
Tamika: This idiot says I attacked Lou Pohl but I did know such thing!
Crash: Well, who beat him up then?!
Tamika: Maybe he kicked his own ass! Ever think of that?!
~ Crash “pffts” at her which just pisses off the Craze Champion as she goes to attack him again. JNS, Who’re and Veronica come around the corner seeing all the commotion and jump in to settle down the normally calm Strader Matriarch. ~
Marcus Welsh: Enough of this! We were having a difficult time figuring out who we could pair you against at Reformation, Tamika but I see the answer is obvious!
~ Tamika and Crash stop to look at Marcus and back at each other, teeth-gritting. ~
Marcus Welsh: It’ll be the rematch of the year… CRASH RODRIGUEZ VERSUS TAMIKA STRADER FOR THE CRAZE CHAMPIONSHIP!
Tamika: Oh, bring it on ya sack of crap!
Crash: Oh I will!
~ Again, they lunge towards each other, diving over the OCW staffers trying to keep them separate but Veronica and John are able to pull the Wiley-Tamika back and The Knife Man does the same with Crash. ~
Jones: WOW! Crash gets a rematch at the Craze Championship!
Hood: All because Lou got his ass kicked. Classic OCW, baby!
Jones: How much do you get to say that?
Hood: … fifteen cents.
Jones: They're paying you too much. Alright, the in-ring action is about to take a step up as Claudius Augustus returns to the ring to face Sahara in her OCW in-ring debut! Let's head to ringside!
Claudius Augustus (5-1) vs. Sahara (0-0)
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The lights go out, and a booming chant in Latin fills the air. “Aut Caesar aut nihil, Hic abundant leones, Hic sunt leones, Alea iacta est!” After these words a rhythmic drum blares through the speakers. Out walks Claudius Augustus, self-proclaimed Caesar of the New Holy Roman Empire. He stops at the top of the ramp, holds his arm straight out with thumb to the side as sparks engulf him in an impressive pyro performance. The sparks are higher than he is tall, and he disappears into the bright light. As the sparks fade, he drops his arm and smiles a confident smile and continues his descent towards the ring. Halfway between the entrance and the ring Claudius stops once again, this time sneering at the crowd, the peasants being within arms reach clearly annoying him. He turns to the entrance ramp as Pig, his sworn servant, somewhat reluctantly joins him. As he approaches the ring, he takes off his shiny gold leaf crown, placing it down with grace on the stairs leading up to the ring. He then ascends the stairs and enters the ring, soaking in the boos that rain down onto him, with each one seemingly making his smile grow bigger, while Pig remains at the ringside area.~
Belvedere: From Rome, Italy… standing 6’2 and weighing in at 235lbs… Claudius Augustus!!!
Jones: The self-proclaimed new Holy Roman Emperor is making his first appearance since his incredible performance at Reformation in the Prison Yard match. The crowd may not like him but he outlasted 5 other men and came within a millisecond of pinning Killa Kali, who later went on to defeat CJ O’Donnell to earn the coveted world title shot.
Hood: That match had everything, and when it came down to those three men it didn’t matter who won. They were all deserving.
Jones: It’s interesting to see his servant, the man he has renamed Pig here with him tonight.
Hood: It adds a different element to his game. He barely escaped with his life in the Prison Yard match. It’s smart for him to bring some backup tonight.
Jones: Backup or not, Claudius is going to have his hands full this evening as we finally get to see one of the most anticipated OCW in-ring debuts in recent memory.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~An eerie voice pipes through the arena PA~
it seems strange that my life should end
~As the lights dim, fog slowly rolls over the stage as if emanating from a dark beyond. The random sounds of a radio tuning through various stations floats over the arena as bright white lights suddenly shine up from beneath the stage, bathing the entryway in an angelic glow. Slowly, white webbing begins to appear on the darkened tron as of a spider spinning it's web…~
ADRENALIZE ME
~As the hard-hitting beat of In This Moment’s ‘Adrenalize Me’ begins pumping through the arena, The White Widow, Sahara Duke emerges through the ghostly fog…~
COME A LITTLE BIT CLOSER
~As Sahara moves toward the center of the rampway, her rows of platinum braids shine from within the shadows. Clad in black and white attire, one of her boots is emblazoned with the word White, and the other Widow. Her jaw is clenched tight, and her face etched with a permanent scowl of condescension. She slowly turns her gaze toward the fans before locking eyes on the squared circle as webs continue to engulf the tron, spelling out the name... SAHARA~
I'M HERE FOR ONE DRUG
~As the music continues to tell her tangled tale, she charges toward the ring and jump slides through the bottom rope…~
Belvedere: From Chicago, IL…
Hood: THE WHITE WIDOW!! The White Widow has graced us with her presence!!!
Belvedere: … Sahara Duke!!!
~The crowd continues to boo loudly.~
Jones: Folks, I know you can’t see it right now, but Hood is doing his best Vince McMahon meme impression in the presence of Sahara.
Hood: *orgasm sounds*
Jones: Good God, I think I just saw Hood’s vinegar strokes.
~Sahara slides into the ring, locking eyes with Claudius. She locks eyes with him and refuses to break her gaze despite the chants and slurs being shouted at both her and Claudius from the crowd.~
Jones: I may have to go it alone for a few minutes while my colleague cleans himself up. Sahara’s got Claudius in her sights and she’s not letting anything distract her, especially the crowd which seems to have a special kind of hatred for both of these contestants.
DING DING DING
~Claudius and Sahara begin circling each other in the ring. They go for a collar-and-elbow tie up. Claudius gains the upper hand, grabbing her arm and twisting it behind her back. He transitions to a side headlock. He wrenches it in, then spins around Sahara, takes her feet out causing her to land face first on the mat. He then quickly hops over her and grabs another side head lock, this time on the ground.~
Jones: Impressive chain wrestling from Claudius Augustus early on. Say what you want about his personality, but this guy gets it done in the ring.
~He pulls Sahara to her feet by the head, continuing to wrench the headlock in. Sahara manages to push him off. He bounces off the ropes and the two collide as Sahara is dropped with a shoulder tackle. Claudius hops over her bouncing off the ropes. She rolls toward him but he hops over again, bouncing off the other side as she pops to her feet. He comes charging at her but she leapfrogs him. As he bounces off the rope again, she hits him with a hip toss. He gets up and turns into an arm drag, then another, then Sahara lands a drop kick, sending Claudius over the top rope and onto the floor. Pig walks over to him to check to see if he is ok as a smattering of cheers can be heard throughout the arena.~
Jones: Sahara with some impressive maneuvers of her own as she sends Claudius to the floor. Hood, are you done doing… whatever you were doing?
Hood: Almost.
~Sahara, ever the opportunist, leaps to the top turnbuckle and with reckless abandon jumps onto Claudius and Pig with a frog splash/cross body maneuver. A few fans in front of her begin to clap. She looks at them, shouting “shut up”. She kicks Pig once more for good measure before grabbing Augustus and throwing him back into the ring.~
Jones: Sahara throwing caution to the wind there as she takes Claudius down on the outside.
Hood: She’s been known to take risks everywhere she’s been Jones. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn’t.
Jones: He’s back ladies and gentlemen! And with some good insight.
Hood: I’ve literally seen EVERYTHING Sahara has done.
Jones: I believe you.
~Sahara hops up onto the apron as Claudius gets to his feet in the ring. She uses the top rope as a springboard, hopping onto the top rope and flying toward him with a superman punch. Claudius ducks, grabs her head from behind, and lands a reverse neck breaker, sending both competitors crashing to the mat.~
Jones: Sahara went for the Widowmaker but Claudius got out of the way.
Hood: She usually reserves that move for when her opponent is almost beaten.
Jones: Something tells me Claudius has a lot of fight left in him. It was probably a little too early to go to that move.
Hood: Like I said… she’s a high risk, high reward kind of woman.
~Claudius is the first to get to his feet. He picks her off the mat, holds her head in his arms, and hits a swinging neck breaker. He quickly and smoothly hops over, picks her back up, and hits another swinging neck breaker. Sahara sits up, holding her neck in pain. Claudius seizes the opportunity and drops to the mat, driving his knee into the back of her neck while wrenching her head backwards towards him as she screams out in pain.~
Jones: Augustus has been working on the neck of Sahara this entire match and it seems to be working. She’s in a tremendous amount of pain here.
Hood: He definitely knows what he’s doing in the ring. But he needs to be careful, Thad isn’t going to like it if Claudius injures her.
Jones: It’s part of the business, Hood. Even Thaddeus Duke has to understand that.
~Sahara continues to gain a bit of crowd support, perhaps more due to their hatred for Claudius Augustus and less about their affection for her. He continues to pull back on her head and drive his knee into her neck. Scruff asks if she wants to give up and she screams “NO!!”. Sahara manages to scoot toward the ropes, sticking her leg out just enough to reach the bottom rope. Scruff calls for Claudius to release the hold, which he does after a 4.9 count. Sahara continues to roll on the mat in pain, holding her neck. Augustus stands in the middle of the ring, arms outstretched, spinning as he soaks in the boos from the crowd. Sahara begins to pull herself up by the ropes, as Claudius spins in her direction. She charges him, but he catches her and connects with a high belly-to-belly suplex, as Sahara takes the brunt of the landing on her neck rather than her back. Claudius once again poses, then puts his boot on her.~
1!
2!
Kickout!!
Jones: There’s still life in the White Widow as she kicks out at 2. I honestly didn’t know if she’d be able to do it after the damage she’s taken to her neck.
Hood: She’s a competitor, Jones. Come on Sahara, you got this!
Jones: You’re openly rooting for her against Claudius? I thought you LOVED him.
Hood: Not like I love her.
~Claudius stares across the ring at his prey. He panders to the crowd, then holds his fist out directly to his side, before giving her the thumbs down. The crowd boos as he smiles. Sahara manages to get to her feet slowly with her back to him.~
Jones: Augustus is looking to put Sahara away with his jumping piledriver, The Gladius.
~Sahara turns right into a kick to the stomach. Augustus positions her and goes to lift her up, but Sahara fights it off. He tries again, same result. He tries one more time, but Sahara sends him to the mat with a back body drop! She quickly grabs her neck in pain. Claudius gets to his feet and turns toward her only to be met with a kick straight to the groin. Claudius drops to his knees, holding himself while the crowd boos.~
Hood: Yes!! That’s how you do it!
~Sahara quickly capitalizes on the situation, hitting a series of kicks to Augustus’ chest. She hits another, then another, then another! Claudius is on his knees but reeling. Sahara steps back, flips her hair as if lining him up for her next move, then wences as she grabs her neck. Still, she lines him up, then connects with a vicious roundhouse kick to the side of Claudius’ head.~
Jones: Sahara is showcasing the devastating striking ability we’ve heard so much about.
Hood: He’s out cold!
~Claudius falls to the mat as Sahara drops down for a cover.~
1!
2!
3!! NO! Kickout!
Jones: I thought she had him! Claudius Augustus managed to get his left shoulder up at the last possible second.
Hood: No! She had this thing. Thad needs to fire Scruff ASAP!
~Sahara is frustrated but resilient. She brings him back to his knees and connects with a Shining Wizard. He falls too close to the ropes for a cover, so she hops over him and into the corner. Pig jumps up onto the apron only to receive a devastating back kick to the face! Sahara then climbs up to the top turnbuckle and without hesitation goes for a moonsault. She hits it… NO! Claudius gets his knees up, right into Sahara’s face! Her neck whips back as she screams out in pain. Both competitors are lying on the mat.~
Jones: Sahara went for it all again there and paid the price.
Hood: I can’t say this enough Jones, she’s always going to take risks no matter the consequences.
Jones: Even though he paid the price, that short distraction from Pig was likely all Claudius needed to get those knees up.
~Scruff begins to count as both competitors begin to stir. Claudius pulls himself up at 4… it takes Sahara until 7 to make it to her feet. Claudius rushes towards her with a clothesline, Sahara ducks, spins him around and kicks him in the gut. She hooks him for an exploder suplex, gets him off his feet, but immediately lets go as she grabs the back of her neck in pain. Claudius regroups, spins her around and hooks her for a German suplex. He releases her high into the air, but she is able to flip and land on her feet, jarring her neck in the process. She screams, grabbing the neck, but bounces off the ropes running full force toward Claudius. She leaps at him but he grabs her and hits her with a huge SPINEBUSTER! Her head bounces off the mat as Claudius makes the cover.
1!
2!
NO!!! Sahara gets her shoulder up at the absolute last second possible.~
Jones: I thought that was it, Hood. There’s no way she should have been able to kick out of that after the punishment her neck has taken.
Hood: I’m hoping she can get back in this thing, but I honestly don’t know how much more she can take. Thad needs to get out here and stop this madness!
~Claudius is showing clear frustration at not being able to put Sahara away. He gets to his feet, pulls Sahara up by the hair, and puts her head between his legs. He extends his arm again, giving Sahara a thumbs down to the disdain of the fans. He lifts her up, leaps high into the air, and plants her neck first into the ring, his jumping piledriver known as the Gladius. Claudius smiles as he makes the cover.
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner… Claud–
~Scruff yells toward Belvedere waving his arms wildly.~
Hood: Her foot is on the rope!!
Jones: Oh… my… God! Sahara somehow managed to get her foot on the bottom rope just before Scruff’s hand hit the mat for the 3 count. Unbelievable!!!
Hood: What? Are you Joey Styles now?
Jones: He wishes. But back to the action as this capacity crowd is on their feet, many of them cheering Sahara’s fighting spirit. Love her or hate her, she can clearly go in the ring.
Hood: She’s proving all the doubters, including herself, wrong. Anyone hating on her for her attitude can GTFO. She’s not here to make friends, she’s here for championships.
Jones: And catering!
~Claudius argues in the ring with Scruff but he’s having none of it. Augustus kicks Scruff in the gut and positions his head between his legs. He signals the thumbs down and hits Scruff with the Gladius as well. Scruff is out cold. Sahara is doing everything she can to get to her feet in the corner. The crowd is in an uproar and begins throwing things toward the ring. Claudius takes it all in as he holds his arms out to his sides, basking in the chorus of boos. He shouts to the crowd “are you not entertained?” mocking them. He goes over to Sahara and begins to laugh at her as he smacks her in the face. He pulls her up to her feet by her hair, positions her for another Gladius, and gives one final thumbs down. He goes to pick her up, then immediately drops her. He grabs his groin area and runs back into the corner screaming in pain!!~
Jones: What just happened? Augustus was about to end the match, and likely Sahara’s career with another Gladius, and he’s suddenly writhing in pain in the corner?
Hood: I think she bit his dick.
Jones: SHE BIT HIS DICK!?!
Hood: Sahara Duke just took a big ole bite out of the Papal’s Staple. I can’t believe it! Lucky bastard!
~The majority of the crowd is now fully behind Sahara as she gets to her feet. She gives a smile and a wink to the camera as she continues holding her neck, but wipes her mouth with her other hand. She walks over to the corner and begins stomping on Claudius’ groin over and over. Pig enters the ring to try to stop her, but she his a superkick to his jaw. Pig goes flying over the top rope and onto the floor. Sahara turns to Claudius, grabbing both of his legs and drops a knee straight to the affected area, causing him to scream out in pain. As he sits in the corner, Sahara climbs the turnbuckle above him, she looks around to the crowd who cheers her on. She flips them off, then leaps forward, landing a double stomp straight to Claudius’ nuts!~
Hood: VENOM DROP!!!
Jones: Sahara just hit her double stomp Venom Drop maneuver to Claudius Augustus’ manhood!! She took the gusto out of Augustus, if you will.
Hood: That’s… not bad.
~Sahara pulls Augustus to the center of the ring. She makes the cover as Scruff begins to wake up.~
1!
2!!
3!!!!!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner… SAHARA DUKE!!!!!
Jones: She did it! Sahara fought through the pain and came out victorious!
Hood: I knew she could do it!! She’s amazing in every way!
Jones: Claudius Augustus, to his credit, not only put up a hell of a fight, but was in control for almost the entire match.
Hood: If it wasn’t for Sahara’s keen ring awareness, he would have had the match won a long time ago.
Jones: You’re exactly right. One has to wonder if hitting Scruff with the Gladius was his undoing in this match. There’s no doubt in my mind if Scruff was awake to see what Sahara did she would have at least been disqualified.
Hood: Sahara Duke can do whatever she wants in this company, and whatever she wants with me… any time she wants. She’s earned that right.
Jones: And tonight, she’s earned her first victory here in OCW.
~Scruff raises Sahara’s hand but she immediately knocks his arm away, both of them holding their necks after the damage Claudius inflicted. Sahara drops to the mat and rolls under the bottom rope, walking her way back up the ramp. A few fans try to high five her but she’s having none of it. At the top of the ramp Thaddeus Duke emerges from the back, and the two embrace after her hard fought win. She puts her arm around him as he helps her to the backstage area.~
in such a terrible place…
BEFORE WE BEGIN
LEMME TELL YOU HOW I WANT IT
AND EXACTLY WHAT I NEED
I'M ONLY HERE FOR ONE THING
SO COME ON AND TELL ME
CAN YOU FLY LIKE YOU'RE FREE?
~“Fortune Days” by the Glitch Mob hits and the Cincinnati crowd voice their displeasure at the impending arrival of the TransAtlantic Champion. CYPH3R appears at the top of the ramp, clad in his traditional all-black hoodie, jeans and converse all-stars. The championship is slung over his shoulder and he holds it with confidence as he walks down to the ramp and into the ring. He snatches a microphone away from the announcer and brings it to his lips~
CYPH3R: Weird, sounds like you were all expecting JPD to come out here, is that the reason you're booing? Surely it can’t be for me.
~The mention of Jace Parker-Davidson seems to further rile the crowd, who are now even louder than before~
CYPH3R: Whatever, look I’m not here looking to pick beef with the entire roster. I’m only after one dude. He’s Irish, says FOOK a lot like he’s a demented toddler, and I knee’d him in the face last week - any takers?
Jones: I believe he’s talking about CJ, Hood.
Hood: Maybe...or he could be talking about Ball Ball.
Jones: HE’S NOT TALKING ABOUT BALL BALL
CYPH3R: That’s right, I can’t believe you dumb dumbs managed to figure it out. CJ O’Donnell is the one I’m after. But the thing is, I think I know what you all expect me to say. You want me to come out here and rage like a Twitch Chat member about what CJ has been saying on social media. About my sister. But nah, I’m not here to do that, because that’s exactly what he wants. Guy knows how to push buttons, and I think he was expecting me to walk out here and offer him a title shot just for pissing me off.
Jones: CYPH3R’s going to make CJ work for it.
Hood: What a tease. CJ’s been working for title shots since 2017...just give it to him!
CYPH3R: Not happening, so what am I gonna do instead, I hear you ask? Well, I put my hand up for this segment, and by my watch I’ve still got about 15 minutes, or two hours in JPD time. So I’m just gonna sit here and tell ya’ll exactly why Sahara Duke and I are going to win the Margarita Mix. That’s it, that’s the rest of the segment, so you Cincinnati losers better get comfortable, cos I’m bout to explain exactly why we’re super-
~ “Kings Never Die” by Eminem begins to play and the crowd boos. It drains Cyph3r's voice out and he looks not happy to hear the entrance music to “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell. O’Donnell still dressed in his ring attire from his match earlier before. He has a microphone in his hand and the Cincinnati crowd gets even louder as they do not like either man standing in the ring or the entrance ramp. CJ begins to walk down the ramp as he starts to talk.
CJ O’Donnell: Cyph3r my good old mate … How are you doing? Look at you coming out here trying to get some cheap heat by mentioning other peoples names like JPD and Sahara. That in itself says you are scared. You can no longer hide behind your keyboard and sneak up on people. The blueprint for you Cyph3r is coming to light and then everyone will watch you crumble into a million pieces … Oh and by the way not a fan of the word FOOK so how about FECK is that better for you?
~CJ is about midway down the entrance ramp and smirks at Cyph3r. He points to the TransAtlantic Championship over his shoulder~
CJ O’Donnell: You are not ready to be hunted? I can see it in your eyes you are already backpedaling and trying to figure out how to get out of our match at Truth or Consequences. No one wants to hear about your sexcapdes with Sahara and how much you wish you were Thad. Because while you might please her in the bedroom Thad’s money gets her things you would never be able to provide for her. Sahara will never leave Thad for your hacking arse …
~CYPH3R rolls his eyes as the crowd yell “BURN!”. He closes the distance between him and CJ, the two wrestlers now nose-to-nose~
CYPH3R: Bruh. You’re just mad I’m hitting that while your supposed “Queen” has left you in a perpetual dry spell. I’d probably be nailing Calway too if she was still around…oh yeah, what happened to her again? Ohhhh that’s right! You got dominated in last week’s main event and she walked because she couldn’t stand teaming with someone as pathetic as you again.
Jones: CYPH3R throwing some acidic shade.
Hood: Acidic shade?
Jones: I'm riffing.
Hood: Stop.
CYPH3R: You know what, you wanna fight? Fine. I’ll put this title on the line if it means I get to humiliate you in the ring. But let’s not wait until Truth or Consequences…let’s do this next Monday, on Massacre.”
~The crowd go crazy at the prospect of these two squaring off in a title match on free TV~
CJ O’Donnell: Not mad at all as everyone gets a turn at Sahara all you have to do is say hi and she gets moist. Yep you are such a good little boy toy that she is playing you like a fiddle. And don’t worry about Alice, that matter does not concern you.
~CJ walks up the ring steps and is now on the ring apron.~
CJ O’Donnell: Say another word about Alice and I’ll make sure not only to take your title but also you’ll be joining your sister six feet under. As far as Calaway goes you think you have the answers to all the questions but you are blinded by your ignorance. If you believe in your heart that you will never see The Dark Queen again then you obviously don’t know her as well as you think you do.
~CJ enters the ring and leans up against the turnbuckle as he continues to speak~
CJ O’Donnell: You really want to give the fans a match of this magnitude on a Massacre. I say we battle at Truth or Consequences and both get the cut. We don’t wrestle for free and the buyout for our match would be ridiculous. Don’t you want to buy Sahara a nice gift?
~CJ smirks as he points at Cyph3r~
CYPH3R: I don’t need to buy Sahara shit, she’s got everything she needs, including a reliable tag team partner. I didn’t have that when I was teaming with Calaway. Fine then, how about next week, I pick your opponent. Just to make it fair, you can pick mine.
~CYPH3R raises an eyebrow after making the offer~
CJ O’Donnell: Fine you have yourself a deal. I’ll let you even pick first. So hit me with your best shot Tyler.
CYPH3R: Crash Rodriguez.
~CYPH3R answers the question immediately and without hesitation~
CJ O’Donnell: That's interesting you would say that. I had a feeling you wanted to play hard ball but let’s see who shall I pick.
~CJ starts walking around the ring as he starts shooting off some names~
CJ O’Donnell: Maybe it should be one of the Straders sisters. Or wait, maybe JPD since you seem to love him so much. Would you be able to go toe to toe with Killa?
~Cyph3r goes to answer but CJ cuts him off~
CJ O’Donnell: I’m not done. It’s none of them. Your opponent will be …
~A small pause by The Distinguished as a smirk appears on his face~
CJ O’Donnell: Sahara Duke. Let’s test that so-called partnership out.
~CYPH3R stares down CJ, his huge eyes narrowing. Then he half-smiles, as if to say “well played”~
CYPH3R: You know what, I like it. Once I’ve given Sahara all she can handle and you’ve finished losing to Crash, I’ll see you at Truth or Consequences.
~CYPH3R raises the TransAtlantic championship above CJ’s head, then drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring as his music plays. CYPH3R makes his way up the ramp with the belt over his shoulder, smiling to himself with his back to CJ~
Jones: CJ vs Crash and Sahara vs CYPH3R next week!
Hood: Well, CYPH3R and Sahara WERE the favorites to win the MIX.
Jones: But that's not all...CYPH3R will defend his TransAtlantic Title AGAINST CJ at Truth or Consequences!
Hood: Now we're talking. CYPH3R won't know what the FOOK hit him when Irish Knowledge knocks him the fuck out.
Jones: CYPH3R's on a hot streak reminiscent of someone CJ knows very well...Matt Meyhu. Can CJ stop it or will he watch as yet another wrestler surpasses him in the OCW pecking order? We'll find out at Truth or Consequences on July 31st!
~We cut backstage where Marcus Welsh is staring up at a poster of Joe Burrow. This induces a strong pop from the pro BENGALS crowd. Welsh, hands in his pockets, shakes his head~
Marcus Welsh: Damnit, Joe. THIS close to the super bowl. Cost me thousands.
~There’s a knock at the door. Welsh turns to see Cap Slock~
Cap Slock: MISS CALAWAY IS HERE TO SEE YOU SIR.
~Welsh nods and Alexandra enters the room. Welsh leans against his desk, folding his arms and eyeing the mercurial talent~
Marcus Welsh: So, what are we going to do about this, Ally?
Alexandra Calaway: What do you mean?
~She looked at him, not sitting down, still standing with her hand on a chair~
Alexandra Calaway: I made a promise and unless you can find a reason for it, it looks like I must go. Do you know of any reasons why I can’t walk out that door right now and never look back?
~Welsh sighs, looking down and sliding some papers around. He holds up a promotional photo featuring Alexandra Calaway as an advertised talent in the MIX. He drops it, letting it fall on top of the desk~
Marcus Welsh: The MIX?
~Reaching down, he slides more papers around before unearthing promotional material advertising Calaway for Truth or Consequences. He tilts his head forward, raising an eyebrow~
Marcus Welsh: You signed up for BOTH of these, Ally. Now, I’m no tyrant but as a semi self-respecting promoter, I can’t just advertise someone and not deliver.
Alexandra Calaway: Semi Self-respecting. Paramount and I have been nothing if not loyal to OCW. Yet, we’ve become a joke to people and while I’d love to continue to prove everyone wrong, I did make a promise. There’s only one thing that can break that promise.. What does my contract say?
~Welsh snaps his fingers. A tony drone floats into view, a contract in its mechanical hands. Welsh reaches up, taking the contract away. He pets the drone saying, “Good future world dominator” before allowing it to fly away. He flips through the contract, comes to the right page, and flips it around, showing Ally~
Marcus Welsh: You’re signed up through the end of the year. Now, I COULD hold you to that. But, as I said, I’m not looking to be some kind of dictator. If you truly want out, we’ll let you out. It’s up to you. Obviously, I’d prefer it if you stayed…
~The crowd murmurs. They gossip. Is Ally gonna stay? Or is she gonna go?~
Alexandra Calaway: Can I have two weeks to think it over?
~She looked at him waiting to see his answer. She needed to think this over. She did sign a contract up until the end of the year. The crowd murmurs and there’s people looking at the jumbotron, with pleading looks. How could she say no to them? Welsh flips the contract back into order, placing it on his desk. He folds his arms, keeping his eyes on Ally~
Marcus Welsh: Alright. Two weeks. You take that time to get your mind right and figure out what you want. We’ll be here.
Alexandra Calaway: Thank you. Now I'll let you get back to your work.
~She places a thick envelope on his desk, enclosed was money, she starts for the door before turning around to look at him.~
Alexandra Calaway: For what it's worth.. your one hell of an owner .. you just need to make sure you don't falter when you should stand firm. Once I'm gone.. open it.
~She opens the door and steps out closing it behind her, with twenty thousand dollars. Welsh thumbs through the cash, smiling. Cap Slock pops his head in~
Cap Slock: SIR
~Welsh quickly hides the money~
Cap Slock: EVERYTHING OKAY SIR
Marcus Welsh: Yes, everything is okay, Captain. Now, shut the door and let me do what I do.
Cap Slock: YESSIR
~Cap Slock shuts the door, giving Welsh his privacy~
~We cut to the backstage area where Amick Dogeron is standing in front of an OCW backdrop.~
Amick: Good evening OCW faithful. I wanted to personally thank you for taking the time to tune in this evening, and give you the opportunity before almost anyone else to be the first to hear my brand new single LIVE TONIGHT here on Massacre. As promised, this song will go down in history as one of the single most important pieces of music ever written. In fact, it's so EPIC that even my opponent tonight, Garry Nelson, and his buddy Jacey couldn't even wait to hear it, so they literally found a leaked copy this past week. Word is, it's been playing on a loop in their cars ever since.
So without further ado, I present to you the OFFICIAL lyric video to the next Billboard Number 1 Hit... "BITCH BOY!!!!"
Jones: Well, that's not gonna make many friends.
Hood: OR, will it make ALL the friends?
Jones: We'll go ahead and call that the official debut as I'm pretty sure that video had a 'soft' open a few days ago in front of Garry Ray-Ray Nelson and Jace Parker Davidson.
Hood: I blame wikileaks and russia!
Jones: Okay. Speaking of Amick and Ray-Ray...they're about to let fists do all the talking! That match is coming up and it's coming up NEXT!
Amick Dogeron (7-2) vs. Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson (2-1)
~The fans in the arena...these people of Cincinnati, OHIO are primed and ready to go. More in-ring action is heading their way. Belvedere stands in the center of the ring, looking dapper as always. The dude is ageless...probably because none of these NPCs really age. Anyway, he breathes into the mic, creating an excited stir from the fans~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The American Flag waves proudly, united, strong, just like the nation of which he represents. Garry Ray-Ray Nelson emerges from the back, his majestic mustache on point, a few smears of motor oil on his face from having worked on the tractor just this morning. There are no days off for the farmer, after all~
~He strides down to the ringside area, slapping hands with all the children, giving salutes to the ones that have their Garry branded American Flag do rags. Ever the patriot, he ensures that his American track suit to touch anything, even the ropes, as he makes it into the ring. He raises his hands, large and caked with dirt from working the fields, to the sky, and the corners explode in a fireworks display of red, white, and blue~
Belvedere: From Nelson County, Kentucky...standing 6’9 and weighing in at 235lbs...Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson!!!
Jones: Garry Nelson returning to Massacre. When we last saw him he was competing inside the Prison Yard.
Hood: Yea, he was a darkhorse to win that thing. A dark horse that didn’t quite make it to the finish line.
Jones: Nope, but he’s back and he looks focused. Let’s see if he can rebound tonight.
Hood: Won’t be easy...Amick is as good as they come.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~“Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake begins to play over the PA system as the crowd erupts in cheers. The song begins slowly and they know every word. They stand to their feet in anticipation and sing along~
“I don't know where I'm going
And I've made up my mind
Here I go again
Belvedere: Now making his way to the ring originally from Charleston, South Carolina, weighing in at 232 pounds…He Is… Amick Dogeron!!
Though I keep searching for an answer
'Cause I know what it means
~Just as the chorus picks up, Amick Dogeron emerges from the curtain as the crowd cheers loudly. He begins to bob his head and wave his hand as the chorus blares throughout the arena. He joins the crowd in singing as he runs toward the ring, smacking hands and giving high fives to the fans along the way~
“Here I go again on my own
But I've made up my mind
~He circles the ring one time before hopping up onto the apron. He grabs the top rope and does a front flip over into the ring landing on his feet. There he drops to a knee, bows his head, and takes a moment to himself~
Jones: And there he is..the man who has been challenging JPD for the past two months. It started with a draw...which then lead to JPD stealing the win from Amick at Reformation.
Hood: Feels like Amick is losing ground with each match. I bet JPD pins him clean at Truth or Consequences.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds. We’re underway!~
Jones: And here we go!
Hood: Amick doesn’t dodge anyone...gotta give him that.
Jones: And Ray-Ray could have taken an easy win to help rebound from the Prison Yard loss. Instead, he wants one of the best wrestlers on the roster...gotta give him that.
Hood: Okay, so we’re in a very giving mood, I see.
~Amick remains bowed. Garry looks at him like he’s an idiot and heads straight for the mysterious masked wrestler. He reaches down to grab Amick with both of his huge hands, but Amick rises up and breaks through Garry’s grip, throwing right hands into Nelson’s head! A pretty decent size disparity going on, but Amick doesn’t let that daunt him. He hits Garry in the head, backing him up against the ropes. Garry’s red white and blue track suit touching the treacherous and stained red ropes of the OCW ring. Amick shoots Garry off...but Garry reverses!! Amick hits the ropes and bounces off...he leaps through the air at Garry with a flying forearm...but Garry catches him!! He hoists Amick onto his shoulders like a farmer would a bag of feed...he stomps around before taking Amick over and tossing him to the mat with a Fireman’s Carry Slam!! Amick hits hard. Garry drops to his knees and reaches out with his huge hands, grabbing at Amick’s head...but Amick rolls away, onto the apron, underneath the ropes~
Jones: Garry is a unique character, no doubt about it...but he’s big...and he’s strong.
Hood: Country Strong. A different kind of strength.
Jones: That’s for sure. It may not look as pretty as some guy who spends every waking moment in a gym but it’s just as dangerous, if not more so.
~Amick, laying on the apron, rolls over, onto all fours...the giant hands of Ray-Ray reach through, snaring him by the mask and pulling him forward. Amick tries to get away but Ray-Ray’s grip is too strong...he pulls Amick between the middle and top rope, head first. He places his hands around Amick’s head like he’s about to crush his skull...Amick is half in, half out...his legs hanging atop the middle rope...Ray-Ray then drops Amick face first into the mat with a draping facebuster! Amick’s face spikes into the mat! He rolls around, holding his masked face in pain~
Jones: Tremendous move by Ray-Ray. The strong southern grip was too much for Amick to escape.
Hood: Yea, but Amick’s got that mask on. Otherwise he’d be in the ER after the force of that impact!
Jones: I think you might be over-exaggerating JUST a little bit.
~Amick manages to crawl into a corner, seeking respite. None will be found as the dirty, country strong hands of Ray-Ray grab him by the neck, from behind and yank him to his feet and backward. He applies a double nerve hold for a minute, crippling Amick’s movements before shoving an elbow into Dogeron’s kidneys! Amick drops to one knee...Ray-Ray backhands Amick in the side of the head from behind...a loud CRACK! Amick falls over, holding his head in pain. Ray-Ray looks at the back of his hand, he squeezes his fingers into a fist...his knuckles irritated, but okay. He presses on~
Jones: I think ti’s pretty clear that Ray-Ray came to Play-Play tonight.
Hood: That’s fuckin awful. You should be ashamed of yourself.
Jones: I know. I’m sorry.
Hood: I have some cyanide capsules in my left pocket. I’ll gladly contribute.
Jones: I’m not that sorry.
~Amick returns to all fours, holding his head. He’s shaken up pretty good. Ray-Ray brings his giant fist down onto Amick’s head...but Dogeron moves and Ray-Ray punches the mat! He pulls his arm back, quickly, holding his fist in pain. Amick, witnessing the impact that nearly knocked him the fuck out, rolls away and sits in a corner. He reaches up, snaring the top rope, pulling his body to its feet. Ray-Ray shakes the pain from his fist and he moves forward...Amick throws his legs up, kicking Ray-Ray in the face! Ray-Ray stumbles back. But he moves forward...Amick kicks him again and again...the third kick puts a dent in Ray-Ray’s progress. Amick hops onto the second rope and leaps off...but Ray-Ray catches him, spins around and DRILLS Amick into the mat with the John Deere Buster (Spinning Spinebuster)!!!! He hooks the leg for the pin, Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Jones: Kick out by Amick. He’s hanging in there but, I gotta tell ya, Ray-Ray looks damn near unstoppable.
Hood: If we’d have gotten THIS Ray-Ray inside the Prison Yard...I dunno. The graphic for the OCW Title match at Truth or Consequences might look very different...much weirder. Or, well, weirder than it already is.
Jones: I can’t argue that.
~Ray-Ray is undaunted by the nearfall. He reaches out and wraps his giant, dirty hands around Amick’s throat. Amick’s eyes widen, beneath the mask, staring up at the passionate eyes of a TRUE AMERICAN. Realizing he’s about to get choked out, Dogeron reaches up and grabs the one thing that stands out, Ray-Ray’s mustache...he grabs it with his hands and he yanks on it, trying to rip it off! Ray-Ray lets Amick go and recoils, rising to his feet and holding his face in pain. Amick rolls under the bottom rope onto the apron, pulling himself up. Ray-Ray checks his hands...no blood...he feels around, stache intact. He breathes a sigh of relief...relief that is fleeting...Amick comes descending down on him with a springboard flying forearm! BAM! He hits Ray-Ray right in the forehead!!! Nelson stumbles into a corner, stunned but not down~
Jones: And here comes Amick! He’s found an opening!
Hood: He tried to rip Ray-Ray’s fucking mustache off. FOUL PLAY
Jones: I don’t think that’s technically against the rules, Hood.
Hood: Hair pull? HAIR PULL? A mustache IS hair, isn’t it?
~We cut to a guy who probably efeds trying to grow a mustache but not really achieving his mission~
Hood: Okay, that’s NOT hair. But what Ray-Ray has on his face is.
~Amick pops back to his feet...he pauses for a second, shaking the cobwebs from his head. He runs forward and leaps at Ray-Ray with another forearm...he smacks him right in the face. Dogeron hops up and plants his feet in Ray-Ray’s midsection, looking to throw him with a Monkey Flip...but Ray-Ray stands his ground and shoves Amick off. Amick lands in the center of the ring, on his feet. Ray-Ray throws a huge chop Amick’s way...but Amick ducks and hits the corner, he turns around. Ray-Ray charges in and leaps at Amick...Amick tucks and rolls forward. Ray-Ray lands on the middle buckle. Dogeron pops to his feet...Ray-Ray jumps onto the top rope and spins around, facing the ring. Amick spins around, facing Ray-Ray...Ray-Ray leaps off and slaps the ever loving shit out of Amick with Grizzly Wintergreen Straight Cut!!! Amick falls backwards, flipping over and coming to rest front first. Ray-Ray tosses him onto his back and makes the cover, hooking both legs~
1!
2!
3...No!
Jones: Shoulder up! Amick got the shoulder up!
Hood: I don’t know how...his heart was just slapped into another dimension.
Jones: Somehow, someway, the #1 contender to JPD and the Savage Championship remains alive in this one.
~Ray-Ray shakes his head...so close to three. The patriot from Kentucky fires back to his feet, clapping his hands. He stomps on the mat...he’s fired up, he’s measuring Amick. Slowly, Amick reaches his feet, definitely worse for wear. Stumbling around, Amick turns, facing Ray-Ray...Ray-Ray fires forward, spinning around and delivering Blood on the Plow (Roaring Elbow)...but Amick pulls out his best MATRIX impression, leaning back and dodging the match ending blow! Ray-Ray stumbles forward...he turns around and gets hit with a Pele Kick!!! He staggers back into a corner. The crowd pops for Amick~
Jones: Dogeron dodged that massive roaring elbow from Ray-Ray and landed a Pele Kick! He needed that!
Hood: Fuckin Ray-Ray, man. See? This is why you don’t fuck with farmers.
Jones: I thought it was because they supply the food that feeds this country.
Hood: Nah, we got McDonalds for that.
Jones: Spoken like a true American.
~Amick rushes to his feet and leaps through the air, landing on the middle rope where he punches Ray-Ray in the head several times...the crowd cheering and counting along. Ray-Ray grabs Amick by the legs and stumbles forward, trying to drop him with an Inverted Atomic Drop, but Ray-Ray avoids the somehow-legal low blow, landing beyond Ray-Ray’s knee...he then responds with a Roundhouse Kick that shakes Ray-Ray...his knees wobble...he drops to one. Amick hits the ropes, he comes off and he SMACKS Ray-Ray in the head with an Enziguri!!! Somehow, Ray-Ray remains upright...barely. Amick gets back on his feet...he hits the ropes, shoots off and flies at Ray-Ray with a clothesline, taking him to the mat!! Amick makes the cover~
1!
2!
KICK OUT
Jones: Big kickout by Ray-Ray!
Hood: Everything this guy does is big. I bet he eats a big steak.
Jones: How big? Like an 8oz filet?
Hood: What? No, you fuckin pussy. I’m talking a massive porterhouse. Shit, he probably chews it down to the bone and uses the bone to fend off critters trying to ruin his crops.
Jones: Okay
~The kickout is so violent and so COUNTRY STRONG that it sends Amick straight to his feet. Amick takes off...he hits the ropes, bounces off and runs at Ray-Ray, leaping into the air with a standing Shooting Star Press!! But Ray-Ray catches Amick and sits up and hurries to his feet, holding Amick in his arms! Amick tries to break free, but Ray-Ray’s dirty hands are too strong~
Jones: Unbelievable strength by Nelson.
Hood: No shit...I mean Amick may not be six foot nine but he isn’t exactly CURT CANON
Jones: Nope
~Amick tries to get free but Ray-Ray headbutts him in the ribs a few times, stifling his efforts. He then repositions Amick, moving the weight around like he’s carrying a small child. He’s got him into a piledrive position! Dogeron reaches up and rakes Ray-Ray across the eyes, staggering the big man. Amick sits up and punches Ray-Ray in the head...he tries to lean back for a hurricanrana, but Ray-Ray holds on, pulls Amick up and throws him forward! Amick lands on the top buckle, seated on his ass. He winces...it wasn’t the kindest of landings. Ray-Ray continues to stagger~
Jones: Ray-Ray threw Amick off of him right onto the top buckle!
Hood: Ah shit, I think know how this usually ends.
~Amick fights through the ASS PAIN and gets to his feet...his moment is now, time to capitalize on this fortuitous situation. He leaps off, diving at Ray-Ray...but Ray-Ray catches him!!! Ray-Ray has him hooked for an Alabama Slam!! A man from Kentucky channeling the STATE of Alabama!! The crowd rises...Ray-Ray slings Amick crashing down...but Amick wraps his legs around Ray-Ray’s head and takes him over with a hurricanrana...he hooks Ray-Ray’s legs! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...AMICK DOGERON!!!!!
Jones: He did it! Amick just stunned Ray-Ray!
Hood: How in the hell did he pull that move off?
Jones: I don’t know, but he did and he snuck in a three count!
~The fans pop! Ray-Ray kicks out right after three sending Amick tumbling to the center of the ring where he pops to his feet, hands in the air. Ray-Ray sits up, staring into the corner, his back to Amick...he shakes his head, pounding the mat with his fist~
Jones: A huge win for Amick and a tough loss for Ray-Ray.
Hood: Yea, it’ll be interested to see how Ray-Ray responds to this one. That’s two losses in a row. I’ve seen some wrestlers bounce when facing that kind of adversity.
Jones: It could happen. But he’s talented enough to go on a big streak, just like CYPH3R.
Hood: To quote Omar from The Wire, “Oh Indeed.”
~Amick overcomes the initial rush of the surprise pin...he looks down at Ray-Ray. Amick has his hands on his hips...he starts to extend his hand, waiting for Nelson to stand so they can shake...but Amick pulls it back and decides against it. He heads for the ropes to exit the ring as Ray-Ray remains seated, still frustrated over his loss~
Jones: Amick, usually a good sport about all of this, is foregoing the handshake.
Hood: There’s been some bad blood between Amick and JPD and, well, by proxy, Ray-Ray.
Hood: There’s been some bad blood between Amick and JPD and, well, by proxy, Ray-Ray.
~Ray-Ray clearly not having any of the disrespect pulls himself up to his feet then grabs Dogeron by the arm and stops him from exiting the ring. Amick turns around and shoves Nelson with both hands as it looks like both men are going to go at it once again. The crowd is on their feet when suddenly someone comes from out of the crowd and over the barricade~
Jones: What the hell is going on here?
Hood: The Savage Champion has arrived! This show has been saved!
~Jace Parker Davidson slides under the bottom rope into the ring behind Amick with a steel chair in hand. Ray-Ray has a smirk on his face and then holds his hands up and steps back like he doesn't want any problems with Dogeron. Amick shakes his head and turns around to leave again but gets blasted with a steel chair shot to the head by The Savage Champion. Amick crumbs to the canvas as the crowd boos loudly~
Jones: They had this planned all along!
Hood: Can you blame them? After everything that Amick has done? I call this justice!
~Jace raises the chair into the air and then unleashes a furious assault of repeated chair shots to the body of Amick Dogeron. Finally, Jace drops the steel chair to the mat and runs his fingers through his hair while breathing heavily. Davidson waves his hand at Ray-Ray then points down at Dogeron. Ray-Ray nods his head then reaches down and grabs a hold of the fallen masked wrestler. Ray-Ray puts Amick into position then lifts him into the air~
Jones: John Deere Driver onto the steel chair! We need to get some help out here!
Hood: It's fine, everything is fine! Amick wears a mask, that thing is practically a helmet!
~Ray-Ray gets to his feet as Jace laughs and pats him on the back. The crowd continues to show their hatred for the two men as Jace backs up into a corner. He waits patiently as the ever-resilient Amick Dogeron fights to pull himself off of the canvas. The crowd tries to get behind Dogeron to rally him against these two vile human beings. However, Jace races out of the corner then leaps into the air~
Jones: Bend the Knee onto the steel chair! Enough is enough, someone get down here and throw these two men out of the building!
Hood: Amick wanted to be a tough guy, he wanted to puff out his chest and act like he can hang with the big dogs. This is what happens when you talk too much but can't back it up.
~The crowd gasps in horror as Jace stands there with a wild, sadistic grin on his face. Ray-Ray finds a microphone and hands it over to The Savage Champion~
JPD: Well then, want to sing me a song now? Got any other clever little diddy to put out there, Amick? Maybe you want rip off some Taylor Swift song and put some mediocre lyrics on it with some grade school photoshop work attached to it next?
~The crowd begins chanting BITCH BOY towards Davidson, but The Savage Champion continues to focus on his fallen rival~
JPD: Maybe if you spent as much time training as you did making shitty YouTube videos on the internet then this wouldn't have happened. See the problem with you, and all these other so-called wrestlers on the OCW roster is that you all think you're funny. You think you're somehow witty but I gotta tell you Dogeron, you shouldn't quit your day job. You THINK you're persistent, you THINK you've got heart, and you THINK you're the face of this company. But at the end of the day? All you are... is annoying.
~The crowd once again roars in disapproval as Ray-Ray begins to lay in stiff kicks to the lifeless body of Amick Dogeron~
JPD: You had two chances to put me away, two matches where you couldn't beat me. And yet you THINK you're worthy of a shot at MY title? You have the nerve to come down to the ring last week to try and embarrass me? You think someone like YOU has what it takes to mock me? All the comedy and name calling in the world isn't going to hide the fact that you're simply not on my level, you bargain bin excuse of a wrestler!
~Jace reaches behind him and takes the OCW Savage Championship from around his waist. He crouches down near Amick's head and holds the belt up~
JPD: Since you're hard of hearing I will say it again, just like I said it last week. You will NEVER get a shot at me and THE Savage Championship belt. You can suck Marcus Welsh's nut sack all you want but it isn't going to help you. But fear not, while you're at home licking your wounds and being checked for a concussion. I'll be here next week on Massacre defending this belt against someone more worthy of my time. Next week I will go one on one The Raging Skull for the OCW Savage Championship belt. Word of advice for you, Edgar Allen Slow. If you can remember how to hold a pen, I would take some notes during that match to remind yourself why you shouldn't FUCK with those that are better than you!
~Jace drops the microphone on the canvas then rises to his feet as the crowd continues to shower their hate onto the Savage Champion. Ray-Ray walks over and raises Jace's free hand into the air while he holds the Savage Championship high into the air~
Jones: Completely and utterly unnecessary! He's making a mockery of that title!
Hood: Shut the fuck up! Amick tried to ruin a match of the year candidate and cut to the front of the line. JPD just stomped Dogeron out like the butt of a cigarette and now he's giving the people what they want! Dogeron is going to have a response to this next week, no doubt!
Hood: A normal person would. But he wears a mask so, no telling.
~Jace and Ray-Ray exit the ring and head back up the ramp as EMT's rush down to the ring to attend to the unconscious Dogeron~
But I sure know where I've been
Hanging on the promises
In songs of yesterday
I ain't wasting no more time
Here I go again
I never seem to find what I'm looking for
Oh, Lord, I pray
You give me strength to carry on
To walk along the lonely street of dreams”
Goin' down the only road I've ever known
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
I ain't wasting no more time”
~TLS is already in the ring with a mic as the crowd settles down~
TLS: So it seems as of late that the OCW has had an influx of babies and kids running around. Last week if it weren't for Tamika Strader, who knows what would have happened to baby Bash. We also have Amick Dogeron's kid running around trying to hook up with every young guy in sight.
~the crowd boos~
Jones: I don't think the crowd likes that dig at Sarah.
Hood: Well I mean have you checked her Twitter account? He ain't lying.
Jones: uh. Why are you checking her Twitter account?
~TLS acknowledges the boos by nodding his head~
TLS: She's a sweet girl and Amick's my mix partner, so I wouldn't want anything to happen to her. And then we have that plastic barbie that's been hanging out backstage in the back Sahara Duke. She's beginning to show a little bulge in the belly area. So either she's been eating too much shrimp cocktail, or she's incubating the devil seed of Thad's shrimp cock. Regardless, she'll probably need someone to watch that child when it comes.
Hood: that's tacky, if Sahara is indeed pregnant, he can't be the one to make that announcement.
Jones: maybe he's just full of shit .
Hood: or maybe Sahara isn't pregnant.
Jones: maybe she's full of shit.
TLS: and then we have the biggest baby in all of ocw. Jace Parker.
~the crowd begins to laugh~
TLS: Jace parker came into the ring last week, thought he was big and bad and then threw a tantrum in the ring about not getting a tag title shot. Jace Parker thought that his words would make people upset, but in fact they were laughing backstage. Mike Zybala peed his pants last week laughing so hard at watching a grown man throw a tantrum in the ring. So what do we do now? We have all these kids running around backstage, with no one to look after them. I've decided to start a business. The Babysitters Club. I'll watch after your kids while you handle your business.
I know what you're probably thinking. " who in their right mind would trust their children with TLS"? So I've invited an overworked mom and her terrible toddler here tonight to show you the type of service you will get when you leave your child with me.
~TLS motions to security, who let's a young mother and her toddler through. The young mother looks like she hasn't slept in days. She is dragging her little boy by the wrist. He seems to not want to listen. Once in the ring, the kid folds his arms and starts stomping around in the ring. TLS invites the young mother closer as the kid is throwing his hissy fit in the ring~
TLS: Hi there. Thanks for coming tonight. Can you tell me your child's name.
Mom:( let's out a big sigh ) his name is Ray Ray.
TLS: what's the matter with Ray Ray?
Crowd: HE'S A BUM! HES A BUM!
TLS: no. Not that Ray Ray. We're talking about this child here.
Mom: he's just a brat. None of the baby sitters that I hire lasts more than a couple days before quitting because he just doesn't listen. I'm at my wits end.
TLS: and what about his Dad?
Mom: I'm a single mother.
TLS: Ah. I see. He doesn't have a father figure in his life. That may be part of the problem. Hey Ray Ray.
Crowd: HE'S A BUM!
TLS: Come here son. Let me talk to you.
~Lil Ray Ray shakes his head no, then turns his back to TLS~
TLS: Lil Ray Ray, come here buddy.
~Again Ray Ray shakes his head. TLS reaches into his pocket and uses the Bifford voice modulator.~
TLS: I said get over here Ray Ray.
~Ray Ray slowly turns as if in a trance and walks towards TLS. TLS squats down and gets to eye level with the young brat~
TLS: now Ray Ray what the problem with you.
Crowd: HE'S A BUM!
~TLS tells the crowd to hush up. As Ray Ray leans into the mic~
Ray Ray: you're a moron and I hate you.
TLS: what did I do to you?
Ray Ray: I hate you. You're a moron.
TLS: ( turns to his mom) is that all he can say?
~The mom shrugs~
TLS: now Ray Ray, you know it's not nice to call people names.
Ray Ray: you're an idiot. ( He attempts to kick TLS in the shin, but TLS alertly moves his leg away, causing the child to fall down.)
TLS: ok. I see what the issue is here. Ray Ray needs a man to teach him how to behave. It seems he gets upset at the littlest things. He calls people names as a defensive mechanism. I think deep down inside, Ray Ray misses his daddy. Miss, I propose that the little child spends more time with me. I'll straighten him out. Are you okay with that?
Mom: Yes! Please take the devil child off my hands.
TLS: Okay. I'll take him under my wing. We can talk about compensation later.
Mom: Thank you!
TLS: ( turns back to Ray Ray) ok son, let's go. I've got to get ready for a match.
~Ray Ray again fold his arm and refuse. TLS points to the jumbtoron~
TLS: can we get an image of the Big Bifford on the screen?
~The screen flashes and a picture of the Big Bifford eating a plate of chicken appears. TLS grabs the child's head and turns it around~
TLS: you see that monster right there Ray Ray? His name is the Big Bifford, and he likes to eat little children. He's probably backstage right now waiting for you. So unless you want to be ground up and eaten like a chicken nuggets, you should come with me.
~All the kids in the audience hide their heads in their parents arms. Lil Ray Ray is frightened by the sight of Bifford and clutches TLS hand. TLS turns to the young mother~
TLS: I've got it from here.
~The young mother hugs TLS , then exits the ring leaving her young child with the masked man~
TLS: I can't do this alone, so if there are any wrestlers backstage that are looking to make some extra money, or if you have some early child development experience, come put in an application for the Babysitters Club. C'mon lil Ray Ray, before the big bad Bifford eats you.
~Lil Ray Ray grabs TLS's hand as they make their way to the back~
Jones: I don't know what I just saw there. Why would that woman just give her child to TLS?
Hood: You saw that little brat, he wouldn't listen to her. I think TLS is going to teach him some manners.
Jones: And while TLS is doing all of this, his MIX partner is backstage being tended to by THE KNIFE MAN after the beatdown he suffered at the hands of the two men TLS was just mocking.
Hood: Hey, just because they're partners for the MIX doesn't mean they are star struck lovers. Not yet, anyway. TLS is a man that needs to be wooed.
Jones: Well, I wouldn't know. This rivalry, it continues to heat up. JPD, TLS, Ray-Ray, Amick, and the rest of PTSD. Where will it lead? I'm sure we'll find out!
~Dylan Thomas is in the A-List Family locker room with Lissandra and Lord Allton when he looks into the camera with a smile`
Dylan: Now, fans…. I may not be taking part in the Truth or Consequences PPV but I am taking part in this year’s Margarita Mix partnering with honourary A-List member Mike Zybala…. Well you all saw us last week. But look, I need to keep myself fresh for the mix so let’s have some fun shall we? The July 18th Massacre…. Let’s have ourselves a little exhibition match. Me…. vs….well you. Whoever, ‘you’ happens to be.
Jones: Dylan Thomas returning to action next week!
Hood: Damn. Was hoping he'd take the whole month off, get rusty and cost Zybala the MIX.
Jones: Hood, I've got some news for you.
Hood: Hit me with it.
Jones: It's main event time which means...Mike Zybala is going to be wrestling!
Hood: KILL ME NOW!
Jones: To the ring!
Tag Title Match
TMZ (c) (2-0) vs. BAM G (5-0)
~The crowd in CINCINNATI has seen a lot. They’ve been privy to a ton of action. But they’re on the precipice of OCW’s in-ring action taking that next step. A fabled and famed championship is on the line...the OCW Tag Team Championship. Belts held by Mario Maurako, Paul Paras, Matt Meyhu, TIO, Jin Royale, The Danger Boiz, Sex & Violence, and, of course, Bob Grenier. Belvedere is in the ring, ready to get this shindig started~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is a tag team match that is scheduled for ONE FALL and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championship!!!
~HUGE pop from the fans in attendance~
Belvedere: Introducing first…
~ “WHERE THE HOOD AT” begins to play! The fans give a pretty strong reaction, cheering the ragtag team featuring one Hall of Famer and one Jobber to the Stars. Somehow, they’ve made it work. Will the Peter Principle come into play, smacking these two back down the ladder...OR will they continue to defy logic, rising to heights unpredictable? We’re gonna find out. Bob leads the way, a championship-like focus on his face, as he works the tape around his wrists. JAM G marches behind him, his eyes down, showing more than a few nerves~
Jones: For months these two have fought and won...fought and won...fought and won...all so they could get THIS opportunity.
Hood: Yea, JAM G has performed way better than I ever imagined. But this isn’t The fucking Viagra Boys or Greek gods. They’re stepping into the ring with the tag team champions.
Jones: It’s OCW championship competition. Reserved for the very best of the best.
Belvedere: One is an Outsider’s Legend...the other is an OCW Hall of Famer. Please welcome JAM G and, his partner, a former OCW Tag Team Champion himself...the one, the only….Bob Grenier!!!
~Grenier rushes up the steps, adrenaline hitting hard. JAM G slides in under the bottom rope. Bob steps into the ring and throws his arms into the air, receiving a strong ovation. JAM G hurries to his feet, stumbling a big. Bob grabs him and settles him down~
Jones: JAM G is clearly nervous. The main event of Massacre...OCW Tag Titles on the line. Breathe in, breathe out, JAM. Relax.
Hood: Yea, if you’re worried you’re gonna fuck it up...you’re gonna fuck it up.
Jones: Insecurity manifests failure. Every, single, time.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~Bob slaps JAM G on the back, trying to maybe smack some of that insecurity out of him...shake those nerves loose. JAM nods as ‘Dream Weaver’ starts to play! The OCW crowd sings along to the super familiar song. Mike Zybala steps out, with a bit of a limp. His knee is probably still bothering him...but The Knife Man will clear anybody. So, Zybala steps out, limping slightly, with his tag title over his shoulder. Striding up next to him is TLS, tag title over his shoulder. The team of TMZ stands proudly atop the stage~
Jones: And there they are...the tag champions. They haven’t defended those belts since they won them...back in April.
Hood: You say that like it’s a bad thing. Like it’s...WEAK ASS BOOKING
Jones: You said it. Not me.
~TLS slaps Zybala on the back, aggressively. It propels Zybala forward as he marches down the ramp, walking with more confidence, perhaps disguising the fact that some weakness remains in that leg. TLS is behind him, staring toward the ring. They reach ringside and Zybala marches up the steps while TLS hops onto the apron~
Belvedere: The team of Mike Zybala and The Lost Stranger...they are the OCW Tag Team Champions...TMZ!!!
Jones: TMZ defending their tag titles for the first time in months!
Hood: That’s months...PLURAL
Jones: Hey, they’ve been busy.
Hood: Busy partaking in some WEAK ASS BOOKING
Jones: You’ve said that twice now. Cool your jets.
~TLS and Zybala enter the ring at the same time. Belvedere takes their tag titles, exiting. Zybala looks like he wants to start things off. But, TLS blocks him from leaving the corner, persuading him to take the apron. Reluctantly, Zybala listens to his partner. Meanwhile, Bob is firing JAM G up. He’s yelling at JAM G to stop shaking and panting like a pussy...to man up and focus. It’s time to fight. He slaps JAM G in the face, hard. JAM G focuses. Bob looks into his eyes and nods, exiting the ring, giving JAM G the opportunity to start this thing off. JAM G stares across the ring at TLS. Scruff calls for the bell. It sounds...the fans are on their feet, cheering~
Jones: And here we go!! TMZ defending against BAM G!
Hood: Bob letting JAM G start a TITLE match. It’s a bold strategy, we’ll see if it pays off.
Jones: He’s showing a lot of faith. Hopefully, for BAM G’s sake, that gives JAM some confidence.
~JAM G approaches TLS, tentatively. TLS, far bigger than his opposition...a stark contrast compared to what he was dealing with at Reformation, waits, letting JAM G get closer. JAM G crouches, slowly reaching in. TLS moves with a purpose, snaring JAM G by the head...but JAM G slips out of it and shoves TLS forward from behind. TLS turns around...he reaches for JAM G but JAM G takes him over with an armdrag! TLS hits the mat...he hurries back to his feet and reaches for JAM G but, again, JAM G takes him over with an armdrag! TLS struggles to his feet, diving at JAM G but JAM G grabs his head and takes him over with a side headlock!! He leans on top of TLS, wrenching his head and neck. TLS slaps the mat, frustrated. Bob slaps the top turnbuckle...the fans cheer, chanting “JAM G!” Bob claps his hands and raises them in the air, increasing the chants. JAM G looks around, eyes wide...it’s like a dream come true~
Jones: Thousands of people gathered in Cincinnati, Ohio are cheering and chanting for JAM G!
Hood: It’s the biggest ovation he’s received since he pulled the fire alarm back in third grade to get everybody out of that spelling bee.
~TLS uses his immense size advantage to fight his way to one knee. JAM G keeps the headlock applied. He twists and wrenches, trying to stifle the momentum TLS is building. But, TLS is too strong and too experienced. Instead of shooting JAM G into the ropes, he hoists JAM G up and falls back, dropping JAM G on his head and neck with a Side Suplex!! JAM hits hard, right on the back of his head. He rolls over, coming to rest on his knees. TLS flips over, onto all fours, staring at JAM. He gets to his feet and reaches out, snaring JAM by the base of his mask...he pulls him up and brings him in for a DDT...but JAM yells out and charges forward, shoving TLS into the ropes. TLS smashes JAM in the back with some heavy forearms, sending him down to one knee. TLS then slings JAM through the ropes and onto the apron. TLS backs away, staring at JAM...JAM gets to his feet, holding onto the top rope...TLS charges in, looking to shove JAM off the apron...but JAM propels his body over TLS, diving into the mat and tumbling to one knee, hopping to his feet and spinning around to face TLS. TLS turns around and he gets CRACKED in the head with an Enziguri!!! TLS stumbles into his team’s corner where Zybala tags in! A sizable pop for the lone true good guy of PTSD. Zybala leaps over the top rope and into the ring, showing off the spring in his knee~
Jones: Great sequence...TLS looked to be taking control, but JAM G countered and landed a wicked kick to the head of his opponent.
Hood: JAM G schooling TLS. We’re definitely in the Upside Down.
Jones: Strange things, let me tell ya.
~Zybala almost pulls the trigger on a SUPERKICK. JAM G covers up. Zybala reaches forward, patting him on the back. JAM G looks his old mentor in the eye. The owner of Outsiders...a man who has mentored more shitty wrestlers than...well, any other mentor of shitty wrestlers. Another pet project is taking off before his very eyes and, once again, they’ve been forced to battle one another. Zybala extends his hand, “I’m proud of you, JAM.” JAM looks a the hand before firing up and nailing Zybala with a few forearm shots to the jaw!! Mike stumbles back...JAM G bends him against the ropes, we see Zybala smiling...JAM shoots Mike off the ropes...but Mike reverses! JAM sprints across the ring, he leaps up, springboards off the middle rope and spins around in mid air with a crossbody...but Zybala catches him with a CODEBREAKER!!! JAM G’s body flies into the air, hitting the mat and tumbling under the bottom rope, onto the apron. Zybala kips up to his feet, to a huge ovation! But, as he does, he limps a bit, reaching for his knee~
Jones: Zybala showing the agility and spring in his legs that we’ve all come to expect! The agility he had BEFORE his debilitating knee injury.
Hood: Yea, but I think he’s pushing it too far. You see that kip up? The knee damn near buckled.
Jones: That it did. A weakness I know Bob will look to exploit...if he’s able to get in there.
~TLS, back in his team’s corner, looks on, leaning forward. Zybala looks back at him...TLS extends his hand, but Zybala waves him off, heading for JAM G. He leans through the ropes, grabbing his former protege and pulling him to his feet on the apron. He chops JAM G across the chest!! The fans wince and ‘woo!’ JAM G leans back, close to falling off the apron. Zybala chops him again! A similar reaction from the fans. JAM G sways back...his right hand holding onto the top rope, barely. He holds on to his balance and leans back into the ropes. Zybala holds his hand high, readying for another chop...he brings the hand, knifing through the air...but JAM throws a front kick into Zybala’s bad knee!! Zybala staggers back!! The fans grumble...they aren’t booing, YET. But they didn’t like that. JAM G jumps up and springboards off the top rope, diving forward, over Zybala and pulling him down with a Sunset Flip!! He’s got Zybala pinned! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Jones: Zybala with the kick out...but yea, I think that knee is gonna be a problem.
Hood: Man, you take a guy in, raise him, give him an opportunity to chase his dream and he kicks you in your bad knee.
Jones: Life can be so…
Hood: Awesome.
~Zybala kicks out and rolls backwards. JAM gets to his feet. Zybala is on one knee...he rises and throws a kick with his good leg...but JAM catches the leg. Zybala hops on his tender leg, stuck. JAM looks around...the fans urge him to do the right thing...don’t take out that bad leg. TLS reaches out, trying to touch Zybala, but he’s too far away. JAM looks to Grenier...Grenier pulls a joint out of his pocket, he lights it up, takes a hit and calmly orders, “Sweep the leg.” JAM nods and he takes Zybala’s bad leg out!! Right from the side!! The fans boo!! Zybala falls to the mat, holding his leg in pain. JAM G stands over him, staring at his injured mentor. TLS slaps the top buckle, frustrated. Should they have gone with a different tandem? Probably~
Jones: No! Dang it, JAM G. You didn’t have to do that.
Hood: Of course he did. Zybala’s the idiot for wrestling with a knee that is almost but not totally healed...despite trying to convince us otherwise by kicking a stripper in the fuckin face. And TLS is even dumber for dragging the guy into this match when he had Kali and whoever that bitch is to pick from.
Jones: You sound very passionate about all this.
Hood: Sorry, I think my blood sugar dipped a bit. I need ice cream NOW
~Grenier snaps his fingers and waves JAM G his way. JAM grabs Zybala by his bad leg and drags him into his team’s corner. Bob extends a fist...JAM bumps it. Bob enters the ring, passing the fat joint to JAM. JAM takes the apron, holding the joint as it smolders and fills the air with smoke. Bob takes hold of Zybala’s leg and he drops an elbow across the knee...he pops to his feet and drops another elbow and another and another and another over and over and over...the fans counting at first and then screaming at him to stop. After what feels like 20 elbows to the knee, Bob pops to his feet and he kicks Mike in the face, flattening him out on the mat. He looks at his elbow, its skinned a bleeding...he laughs and takes the joint from JAM, taking another hit~
Jones: I mean, is this really legal?
Hood: Of course, elbows have always been legal in wrestling. Quit trying to screw BAM G over.
Jones: I’m talking about the narcotic in Bob’s hand!
Hood: Medicine, Jones! It’s medicinal! Look at his elbow...he needs it for the pain.
~Bob hands the fat, smoldering bundle of Grenier Kush back to JAM G. JAM holds it awkwardly. Grenier drags Zybala into the center of the ring, hooks the bad leg, turns Zybala over and sits back with a CANADIAN MAPLE LEAF! The entire nation of Canada (GREAT NATION TO THE NORTH) goes wild chugging maple syrup and riding moose. Grenier leans back, looking like he can sit in this position all night. Scruff asks Mike if he wants to give it up, already knowing the answer. Zybala fights through the pain...he reaches out for the ropes...for TLS...but he’s smack dab in the center of the ring~
Jones: This isn’t good. Zybala might be forced to tap. TLS might throw in the white flag.
Hood: He doesn’t have a white flag. Maybe he’ll throw his mask into the ring.
Jones: That would be a first.
~Scruff continues to ask Mike. Grenier yells, “Give it up, Mike. You’re fucked.” Zybala refuses. In the background, we see TLS step through the ropes, entering the ring. Scruff notices the ropes shaking and he turns around, stopping TLS. He pushes TLS back into his corner. As he does, SHE-LS emerges from under the ring! She slides into the ring behind Bob and runs forward with a SHINING WIZARD to the back of Grenier’s head!!! He falls to his side, releasing his hold! The crowd pops! SHE-LS dives out of the ring and scurries underneath...Scruff turns around like, ‘wtf happened’? JAM G looks on, surprised...the joint starts to burn his hand, so he tosses it on the apron and steps on it, putting it out. Bob and Zybala are both down~
Jones: And SHE-LS makes her presence felt!
Hood: Who invited HER to the party. Get back to Equality, woman!
Jones: Hood! That’s a very sexist thing to say.
Hood: Are we even sure that’s a woman? I have my doubts. It could be Tony the Spider.
~Zybala’s leg is hurt, but his head is fine. He looks toward TLS and begins the crawl. Meanwhile, Bob took a kick right to the noggin, keeping him down. Zybala SLOWLY crawls toward his corner...TLS extends his arm as far as he can. He stomps...the fans urge Zybala on. Bob isn’t moving so...it looks promising. But, a whiff of GRENIER KUSH tickles his nostrils. His eyes pop open and he shoots to his feet. He stumbles forward and tags JAM G into the match!! JAM G steps through the ropes...Bob hits the ground, rolls onto the apron and snares what remains of his once super lit joint. JAM G heads for Mike...Zybala reaches out to tag TLS...but JAM snares his bad leg!!! He drags Zybala away from TLS! The fans BOOO!! Mike turns onto his back...he kicks his good leg out right into JAM G’s face!!! JAM stumbles back!! Mike turns around and he dives forward making the tag!!! The fans go wild!!! TLS steps through the ropes, fired up and ready to go~
Jones: And here comes TLS! He’s fresh and ready!
Hood: I hope he trips with that mask on. Trip and fall!
Jones: He’s wrestled with a mask for twenty years, I think he can manage.
Hood: Maybe his eyesight is getting weak. Old people have bad eyes...so I hear.
~JAM G stands back, sorta in awe. Sure, he faced TLS earlier but the heat is picking up. We’re reaching the home stretch of a championship match and JAM G is all alone staring down one of the all time greats. TLS charges forward, taking him down with a clothesline! JAM struggles to his feet only to catch a BOOT to the face, sending him staggering into a corner. TLS comes flying in with a Stinger Splash!!! The ring shakes! TLS takes a few steps back before slugging JAM G in the gut a number of times until the former jobber to the stars is doubled over, groaning in pain. TLS hooks him by the head and he drops him with a swift and impactful DDT!!! JAM lands on his head, flipping over onto his back!! TLS turns over and dives on top of JAM G for the pin! Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP!
Jones: JAM G with the shoulder up! He’s keeping his team in this...barely.
Hood: We got too many masked freaks out here, man. Is this what has become of our tag division?
Jones: Still don’t know why masks bother you.
Hood: I’d rather not talk about it.
~JAM G is on all fours, trying to get away after barely avoiding a pinfall. TLS reaches out, fish hooking the pride of Outsiders. TLS gets to his feet, bringing JAM G along for a painful ride. TLS’s fingers hooked inside JAM G’s mask, yanking his mouth open...JAM G does the only thing he can think...he bites down!! TLS yells, ripping his fingers free. JAM G stumbles into the ropes...he leans in and shoots off, lunging at TLS with a lariat...but TLS catches his arm, he spins JAM G around and hooks him for a German Suplex...JAM G throws his head back, the steel mask smacking into TLS’ face!! TLS staggers back. JAM G dives forward, landing on his hands and throwing his feet into the air, around TLS’s head...he then spins to the ground, taking TLS over!! TLS spins down, landing on the mat hard!! The fans are wowed and cheer JAM G’s shocking athleticism and toughness. Bob is back on his feet, in the corner, the pretty much dead remnants of what was once a magnificent joint stuck in the side of his mouth...he’s chewing on it like an old dude would chew on a cigar. JAM G heads his way and tags the pride of CANADA into the ring~
Jones: And here comes Bob! Back into this match!
Hood: Yep, one masked freak is down thanks to another masked freak. Now, if we could get Zybala back in there in place of TLS we’d have a couple of regular freaks in the ring.
Jones: The momentum is siding with BAM G right now. New tag champs could be happening right before our very eyes right here on Massacre!
~TLS tries to get to his feet, rising to one knee but Grenier sends a double axe handle crashing into the back of his head. TLS falls to all fours...Grenier snares the back of TLS’ mask and rips him to his feet. TLS leans in with a head butt, but Bob dodges the attempt, hooks TLS and lifts him up, slamming him into the mat with a Rock Bottom! TLS is down. Bob pops to all fours, looking out into the crowd, chewing on that fat joint locked in the side of his mouth. He pushes his way up to his feet. He catches an eye on Zybala, who is on one knee, trying to get back to his feet in his team’s corner...Bob runs in and kicks Zybala in the face, sending him flying off the apron and to the floor, roughly. The fans boo. TLS struggles but gets to his feet...Bob turns around and boots him in the gut before snaring him and slinging TLS out of the ring through the ropes! TLS lands on the floor, hard! Bob throws his arms in the air, basking in the glory that is a Canadian whipping American ass on American soil~
Jones: Grenier in total control. He might be a little TOO relaxed given what’s at stake and who he’s facing.
Hood: Hey, let the man work. LET THE MAN WORK
Jones: Alright, fine. Geez.
~Grenier turns his back to the outside where TLS is laying. Scruff walks up, trying to get Bob to spit the joint out of his mouth but Bob just ignores OCW’s chief referee. Then, from behind, SHE-LS hits the ring! She pops to her feet and spins Bob around!! She kicks Bob in the gut (or possibly the groin) and takes him over with a Small Package!! Scruff is so confused...it looks like TLS and it’s TLS’ finishing move...but is it TLS? We know it isn’t...but Scruff isn’t sure, it’s all happening so fast. He dives in to make the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
NO!
Jones: Bob survived!
Hood: Shit, that weed probably slowing his reactions. He BARELY got out of that one.
Jones: Somebody needs to radio in there and let Scruff know that’s NOT TLS. That’s SHE-LS.
~Grenier rushes to his feet, thrown by the unexpected nature of things. SHE-LS, back on her feet, jumps onto the ropes...she spingboards off and spins around in mid air, grabbing Bob by the air and spinning around for a Tornado DDT!!! But Grenier holds on and lets out a MIGHTY roar as he throws SHE-LS off of him, launching her through the air and CRASHING down into his team’s corner! Her body is WRECKED into the buckles. Grenier charges forward with a HUGE clothesline, CRUSHING her into the buckles. Angry, he proceeds to deliver measured strikes into her skull...one after another after another after another~
Jones: The tide has turned! Bob is taking it to SHE-LS!
Hood: Lotta rumors it’s Alice under that mask. We all know how Bob feels about the owl lady.
Jones: They aren’t exactly the best of friends.
~Grenier reaches out and tags JAM G. SHE-LS throws her legs up and she kicks Bob in the face!! The saliva soaked joint flies from his mouth, out of the ring!! SHE-LS hits him in the face a few times, returning the favor until JAM flies off the top, grabbing her from behind and planting her into the mat with a Bulldog!!! SHE-LS is down!! JAM flips her over and makes the count. Bob places his foot on top of JAM’S back for leverage...Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
3!!
NO!
~Zybala flies in with a SPEAR into Bob, taking him through the ropes and out of the ring!! SHE-LS gets her shoulder up just before three!! JAM slams the mat, frustrated, but he returns to his feet. SHE-LS crawls for the ropes, but JAM drags her back into the ring~
Jones: Nope. You threw yourself in there...you can’t run now!
Hood: Boy, that’d be a thick whiff of karma...if SHE-LS eats the pin, costing them the tag titles.
~JAM pulls SHE-LS in tight and tosses her over with a Wheelbarrow Suplex!!! SHE-LS lands hard, reaching for the back of her head in pain. JAM hurries to his feet. Outside, we see Zybala and Grenier brawling, neither man gaining an advantage. JAM grabs SHE-LS by the mask, pulling her to her feet when he pauses, spotting Killa Kali at the top of the ramp. Kali's head is bandaged from the attack earlier in the night. JAM points at Scruff, “WATCH HIM!” he yells. Scruff heads for the ropes and yells at Kali to leave the ramp, head back through the curtain. Kali smiles, staying put~
Jones: That man cannot get in there. If he does, he’ll wreck everyone.
Hood: Feels like BAM G is fighting four people at once.
Jones: Pretty much what’s going on.
~With JAM G ordering Scruff and Scruff doing as he’s told, SHE-LS reaches up and LOW BLOWS JAM G!! He doubles over. SHE-LS rolls out of the ring, quickly. JAM G turns around, grimacing in pain. As he does, he runs into TLS! TLS pulls him over with his patented Small Package! Scruff sees the pin on the OCWTron and he dives into view with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners...AND STILL OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS...TMZ!!!!!
~Kali claps, laughing. He turns and heads back through the curtain, leaving the scene. TLS pops to his feet, staring down at JAM G who rolls out of the ring, holding his balls in pain~
Jones: Dang it! BAM G was in control for most of this match...until the chicanery began!
Hood: SHE-LS entered the plot and everything changed.
Jones: This was far from a fair fight, Hood. Far from a fair fight.
Hood: Record books show that it was fair. And, that’s all that counts.
~The referee presents the OCW World Tag Team Championship belts to TLS and Zybala before raising the hands into the air. Grenier helps JAM G to exit the ring and they head backstage. As the Champions have their moment in the ring suddenly two individuals race through the crowd and hop the barricade~
Jones: Not this again!
Hood: YES! Twice in one night? It's like my birthday and Christmas all in one!
~JPD and Garry Nelson slide into the ring both holding steel chairs. They get up to their feet and blast the Champions with shots to the back of their heads with the chairs. Both Zybala and TLS drop to the canvas hard as they lose their grips on the titles. Both Ray-Ray and JPD begin stomping away at TLS repeatedly while completely ignoring Zybala. The attack doesn't last long as SHE-LS slides into the ring and jumps onto the back of the tall Ray-Ray Nelson~
Jones: SHE-LS has entered the ring and is here to save her teammates in PTSD!
Hood: I don't think trying to climb the tree that is Ray-Ray Nelson like is squirrel is going to do much!
~Ray-Ray staggers around the ring as SHE-LS starts to unleash her fury on the Slap Fighting Champion. Ray-Ray reaches up and grabs a hold of SHE-LS on his back then flings her down to the canvas hard. SHE-LS is quick to get back up to her feet but Ray-Ray levels her with Blood on the Plow. SHE-LS falls to the canvas like a ton of bricks. Ray-Ray grabs a hold of her then deposits her over to the top rope and down to the arena floor like it was trash day. JPD continues to assault the fallen TLS but Mike Zybala and made it back to his feet and he measures up Davidson~
Jones: Let's go Mikey! Show him that PTSD isn't to be messed with!
Hood: Zybala has lost his ever-loving mind! When these two men are in the ring you stay down and play dead!
~JPD turns around and Zybala goes for a superkick, but Jace catches his boot. Jace spins Zybala around and shoves him into the chest of Ray-Ray Nelson. Zybala collides with Ray-Ray then steps back a bit. Ray-Ray reaches out and wraps his large hands around the neck of Zybala. Ray-Ray lifts the 10% owner of OCW into the air and begins choking the life out of his body. Mike kicks his legs wildly and waves his arms frantically feeling his windpipe being crushed. Ray-Ray continues squeezing the neck of Zybala like he's trying to pop his head off of his shoulders like a pimple. Zybala's limbs go limp, and he loses consciousness from the lack of oxygen~
Jones: Where is Kali? Someone needs to teach these two a lesson!
Hood: Are you crazy? Ray-Ray just shut up Mike Zybala. This glorious man just proves that miracles are real!
~Ray-Ray slings Zybala's lifeless body down to the canvas. Ray-Ray reaches down for one of the steel chairs and pulls it off the mat. The Slap Fighting Champion raises the chair into the air then slams the head edge of the top of chair down onto Zybala's once injured knee. Ray-Ray repeats the process over and over again as JPD heads over towards the ropes. Jace garners a microphone then walks to the center of the ring as Ray-Ray continues to try and destroy Zybala's knee~
JPD: Well, I guess this is where I say you were right and I was wrong, huh TLS? By some stroke of luck, you and your little twink over there managed to retain the OCW World Tag Team Championship belts. You just cost me $25 dollars you piece of shit!
~TLS tries to crawl is way over to Zybala but Jace gives him a stiff kick to the ribs~
JPD: Wait, I guess I'm crying again, right?
~Jace smiles out at the crowd who begin rain down boos much like earlier~
JPD: I guess I need a babysitter, but make sure she's hot and stacked because I missed lunch and need to be breast fed. For someone that looks like a rejected ass comic book character that couldn't wrestle his way out of wet paper bag, you sure talk a lot of shit. All that bravado, all that snark on social media and look at you now. You see I don't need to go "backstage" to get attention or anything like that. I come out here and simply take it. Just like Ray-Ray and I are going to take the OCW World Tag Team Championship belts away from you two losers.
~TLS continues to try and crawl his way towards Zybala to help prevent his friend from suffering a serious injury~
JPD: You and every other one of those uppity assholes in the locker room whined that title shots are given, they are earned. Well, TLS are we worthy now? We did earn our shot at those dead titles that you bum's carry around? Feel the itch to step into the ring with us now for those titles instead of your passive aggressive liking of tweets? Maybe you want to tuck your tail between your legs and run away from a real challenge. But I got some "Constructive Criticism" for you that I'm sure is going to go over well.
~Jace pauses and smiles before kicking TLS in the head a couple of times~
JPD: Everything about you and your group is absolute fucking garbage. You and all your circle jerk buddies are more worried about being friendly with each than you are winning matches. A majority of this roster is Charmin fucking soft and unless you have Marcus Welsh pandering to your fragile emotions 24/7? You get bent out of shape and claim you'll be "screwed" in matches against a higher class of talent. You're all so used to getting top spots on the card just by coasting your way through the federation against your friends and enhancement talent. Now that I'm here, now that Ray-Ray is here, and now that more and more talented wrestlers are joining OCW every day you can't stand it.
~TLS tries swiping at Jace's leg but the Savage Champion just kicks him away~
JPD: So, instead of becoming better wrestlers? You go make your little YouTube videos; you have your piss poor YouTube radio shows, and you start Babysitters Clubs like you're all 13-year-old girls. All of that, your bitching, your fragile feelings, pointing the finger like you're not at fault for your own short comings isn't going to make up for your lack of talent. I've had two... count them, TWO matches in this company and I'm not only a Champion but I'm #1 in the Heat Check rankings. While you? You couldn't keep the flame going on cheap Dollar Store cigarette lighter. You're so devoid of any type of heat we could store the leftovers from catering inside of you. But that's okay, I'm going to do you a favor and show you how to heat things up.
~JPD drops the microphone then taps Ray-Ray on the shoulder. The two men have a short discussion before Ray-Ray drops the chair and stops his assault on Zybala's knee. Jace exits the ring then reaches underneath it and pulls out a table. He begins to set the table up on the arena floor as Ray-Ray leans down and bad mouths TLS while slapping him on the back of the head. Once the table is set up, Jace pulls a bottle of lighter fluid out of his pocket and begins to soak the surface of the table~
Jones: Just what is this maniac thinking?!
Hood: I don't know but it's making me really horny!
~Jace tosses the empty lighter fluid bottle to the side before pulling out a lighter from his pocket. Ray-Ray grabs a hold of TLS off the mat inside of the ring slowly. Ray-Ray positions TLS then grabs a hold of him by the waist. Jace lowers the lighter to the surface of the table then sets it a blaze. The crowd is buzzing as the can feel the heat from the flames at ringside. Ray-Ray lifts TLS into the air and then powerbombs him over the top rope and through the flaming table~
Jones: Why can't Marcus Welsh or Thaddeus Duke stop these two? They should be fined and suspended for all they've done tonight!
Hood: Hey, PTSD had their own BBQ this week, so Jace and Ray-Ray decided to have one of their own here on live television!
~Jace slides back into the ring as both men reach down and grab the OCW World Tag Team Championship belts off the canvas. Each man places a single boot on the fallen Zybala before raising the belts high into the air~
Jones: Horrid behavior from two grown men. Instead of earning a shot for the titles inside of the ring by winning matches, they stoop to doing this!
Hood: You don't become Champions or reach #1 in the Heat Check by playing pattycake with your co-workers and waiting your turn!
~Suddenly #1 contender to OCW Championship Killa Kali comes racing down the ramp towards the ring along with his crew. Jace and Ray-Ray drop the tag belts and leave the ring in a hurry. The two men hop the barricade and make their way through the crowd towards an exit to the building. Kali and company hit the ring and begin to check on their fallen teammates~
Jones: Well, I don't know what to tell you folks. Ray-Ray and the Savage Champion like to pick their spots but when the odds start to get even, they get the hell out of dodge.
Hood: They came out here and did what they needed to do. They've put the entire OCW roster on notice and staked their claim to a shot at the OCW World Tag Team Championship belts.
Jones: We'll see what Marcus and Thad have to say about that but that's all the time we have for this week. Join us next Monday night for another edition of Massacre, you won't want to miss it because we packed card with PPV quality matches lined up. Truth or Consequences is right around the corner and I for one can't wait to see what the consequences are for those two jackals. Good night everyone!
~There is one final shot of Kali leaned over the top rope looking in the direction that both Ray-Ray and Jace ran off in with pure hatred before we cut to Jones and Hood~
Jones: Vicious and unnecessary in my opinion. JPD and Ray-Ray are going to start a war if they aren't careful.
Hood: START a war? They're taking the war to any and everybody that shows weakness. And, ya know what? I think they're winning.
Jones: Well, that remains to be seen. As far as tonight goes, mission accomplished...TLS and Amick, the main targets for JPD and Ray-Ray were left laying in the ring, despite their victories.
Hood: The long game, Jones. The Savage Title match at Truth or Consequences, that's what matters. An eventual tag title shot, that's what matters.
Jones: Indeed they do...alright fans, we're gonna take a quick commercial break and when we return, a word from your OCW Champion.
Hood: Oh geez. Fans, keep all arms and legs inside the barricade at all times.
Jones: We'll be right back!
~Gangsta’s Paradise by Coolio begins playing and Plethora the Perilous, in full robe, begins walking to the ring with the OCW title over his shoulder. Earl the Popcorn Salesman follows behind him with Martin Ka’Berryon (in full grape-cluster costume) following both of them. The crowd boos as the large cloak-covered man approaches the ring.~
Hood: THE WORLD CHAMPION IS HERE!
Jones: for once..
Hood: That was Jones that said that, Pleth!
~Entering the ring, Plethora stands with Earl and Martin on each side of him. He is handed a microphone and the music slowly fades out.~
Jones: Is Plethora gonna talk? He doesn’t usually talk with the robe on…
Hood: The robe on? We’ve never seen Plethora without a robe.
Jones: You know what I mean Hood… It’s Bifford.
Hood: IT IS NOT! DO NOT SPREAD LIES ABOUT THE WORLD CHAMPION, JONES!
~Plethora holds the microphone up to the shadow-filled hood and pauses. The fans boo louder. Plethora then moves the microphone away from the hood and hands it to Martin along with the OCW Championship.~
Jones: What is this stalling?
~Plethora reaches up and pulls the hood back. It’s Bifford under the hood.~
Hood: OH MY GOD! IT’S BIFFORD! IT’S BIFFORD! BIFFORD IS THE WORLD CHAMPION!!!!
Jones: Oh for fu.. Hood… everyone has known that since the beginning.
Hood: I AM SHOCKED! I AM BESIDE MYSELF!
Jones: Give me a break…
~The crowd boos loudly as Bifford pulls the Plethora robe off of himself and stands there dressed in black pants and a shirt. He hands the robe to Earl the Popcorn Salesman and takes his microphone back.~
Bifford: It was me.. it was me all along..
~The crowd erupt in boos.~
Bifford: While I enjoyed being Plethora, I no longer need to hide behind the robe. The monster Kenny Patsasoglou, also known as Kenny the Intern, has been taken into custody and will soon serve the rest of his life in jail due to his evil cannibalism plot, for which he used my name as advertising. The horrible nightmare that has been my non-consensual involvement in Bifford’s Sandwiches of Chicken is now over.. and so I am Bifford.
~Bifford reaches and takes the OCW Championship back from Martin Ka’Berryon.~
Bifford: And I am the World Champion.. BOW BEFORE ME! WORSHIP ME!
~The Ohio crowd turns ugly shouting obscenities at Bifford. Bifford smiles and laughs.~
Bifford: But Plethora will become the monthly spectacle.. He will face KILLER KAL this month and will defend the OCW monthly.. I will put the robe on and become THE PERILOUS only at the biggest shows..
~Bifford smirks and holds the OCW Championship up.~
Bifford: But there’s no reason we can’t have some fun between those shows… so Duce Jones, you want a shot? Mario Maurako, one more try? Alice Knight, do you have the balls to challenge one more time? Silverfreak, I know you don’t have half the balls Alice Knight has.. Dangerous Dan, will you challenge me? Titan 3, you son of a bitch I took this belt away from you and put it on Goldie, you want your revenge? I’m here and I’m glad to fight any of you on any Massacre. Have your people reach out to mine.. And you fans just know, if you don’t see these matches, Duce Jones, Mario Maurako, Alice Knight, Silverfreak, Dangerous Dan, and Titan 3 are afraid of me..
~The fans pop huge for each name Bifford mentions and then boo him at the end. Some of the fans near ringside have begun screaming obscenities at the ring. One fan is tackled by security after he tries to charge the ring.~
Bifford: Was that Mario Maurako? Nah that guy was in a lot better shape..
~The booing becomes overwelming.~
Bifford: Now my attention turns to KILLER KAL.. Let’s watch a few minutes of the best match of early-2000s OCW.. my OCW Championship victory..
~Bifford motions to the screen and footage plays~
Bifford takes his time getting up, very disappointed that the match is continuing. Meanwhile, on the outside, Loser-rr has lost his advantage, as a furious Handy Man is now hammering his forehead into the railing, with shot after shot. It’s become a hardcore match out there. Inside the ring, Bifford pulls Playboy G up, lifting him into the air and knocking the breath out of him with a gutbuster. Playboy G rolls on the canvas, in a lot of pain, even as Bifford leans on his knees, fatigue eating away at him. He starts to walk towards his foe, then suddenly stops, as a figure appears on the apron, holding something. It’s Killer Kali, smiling, and holding a small tree in one hand. Bifford steps back, not sure what to do, even as Kali enters the ring. The ref tries to stop him, but Kali swats the striped official down with his free arm, even as he approaches Bifford with his greatest fear. Bifford moves against the far ropes, shaking his head no, even as the crowd lets Kali have it, booing him with all their power. Playboy G, meanwhile, slowly pulls himself up, knowing that something is going down. ~
Jones: What in the hell is Kali doing out here? Why didn’t Ace ban him again, like he did for the other match??
Smith: Now, c’mon, Jones! After all the interference we’ve already seen in this one on behalf of Bifford, are you really going to whine about Playboy G’s friend showing up? Hell, I’m surprised it took this long!
Hood: Bifford looks petrified. The guy just can’t stand trees!
~ Bifford leans on the ropes, with nowhere to go, as Killer Kali waves to Playboy G. The two men approach the terrified wrestler, even as, on the outside, Handy Man continues to beat the daylights out of Loser-rr. Kali gets close, shoving the top of the tree towards Bifford’s face. Bifford leans back as far as he can go, desperately trying to stay away from it. The crowd starts up a chant just then, yelling “Bifford” over and over again. Kali, not caring about them, swats Bifford across the face with the edge of the tree, knocking off some of the leaves. Playboy G lets out a small laugh next to him. But, suddenly, Bifford reaches out, grabbing the tree and yanking it away from Kali’s grip! He swings the heavier end at them, breaking the tree’s base as it cracks across both men! Kali takes the worst of it, as the pot shatters across his forehead. The shards fly towards Playboy G, followed by the heavy, compact sod where the roots are located. It breaks as well, with the edge of the tree limb cracking down the side, as Playboy G topples to the ground. Bifford quickly throws the tree out of the ring and starts running his hands feverously across his pants, as if to get rid of a disease, while the fans cheer loudly. ~
Hood: I can’t believe it! Bifford was able to block his fear long enough to do the damage to his foes! Killer Kali may need stitches after that hit!!
Smith: I guess that tells us how much Bifford wants the belt, because he sure let those two guys have it!
~ Killer Kali, his face a bloody mess, rolls out of the ring, leaving a trail of red behind him. Playboy G, meanwhile, tries to get up, his face blackened from the dark soil the tree had been planted in. The Big Bifford is right there waiting for the man, though, grabbing him and dropping him with the Biff End!! Playboy G’s head cracks on the mat, taking a horrible blow. Outside, Handy Man delivers one final shot to Loser-rr, sending him plummeting with the Handy Slam into the railing. Handy gets back up, shaking his head clear, then looks into the ring, where he sees his downed ally. Bifford gets up, not attempting the pinfall. Handy sees him on his feet and starts to enter, but is once again grabbed from behind….. by Titan 3!!! Before Handy can do anything, Titan 3 yanks him around and drops him with Ground Zero!! Handy Man sprawls out, not moving, as Titan 3 spits down on him, then turns immediately and leaves, holding his side, which is still bandaged from the hit he took a few weeks before. ~
Hood: What a hit! I don’t think Handy Man’s going to be getting up anytime soon!
Smith: Yeah, what god did he piss off? I mean, that’s the third outsider who’s attacked him in this match, for pete’s sake!!
Jones: With Handy and Kali down, Bifford’s got a real chance here. So why isn’t he going for the cover? Wait, where is he going? Oh, man, he’s not thinking of…
Smith: Yep, he is. He’s going up!
~ Indeed, Bifford is slowly climbing up the turnbuckle, a move that has not worked for him in a long time. The fans are behind him, though, keeping the “Go Bifford Go” chant loud and continuous. Playboy G, in the center of the ring, is not moving. The only evidence of him still living is his chest, rising up and down in a regular rhythm. Bifford nearly loses his balance, causing a gasp from the audience, but he manages to hang on, pulling himself fully upright. The turnbuckle seems to be bending downwards, and could break at any time. Outside the ring, Killer Kali is trying to get up, knowing that his partner is in trouble. But it’s too late to stop the big man, as, unbelievably, the Big Bifford takes flight!! His leap is not huge, and his altitude doesn’t climb, but it doesn’t matter, because he’s dead on target. The ring shakes, but somehow doesn’t collapse inwards, as Bifford plants himself on top of Playboy G. The ref flies upwards from the impact, falling onto his back, as everything stops for an eternal instant from the blow. ~
Crowd: HOLY S@#$!!!!!
~ After a second of recovering, almost as if he’s waiting for aftershocks, the ref turns, to see a prone Big Bifford still lying on top of Playboy G, who isn’t moving. The ref immediately pushes himself across the ring, going to make the count, as the crowd chants along with him. ~
1…..
2…..
3!!!!!!!
Hood: He did it! He did it! My god, the mother-f*cker did it!!!!
Warrick: Here is your winner, and the NEW OCW Heavyweight Champion of the World!! The Big Bifford!!!!
~ Bifford pulls himself up in the ring, even as a badly injured Playboy G rolls painfully to the outside, where Killer Kali reaches up and grabs him. The two stare into the ring, still in shock, then head around to where Handy Man is trying to rise. Inside the ring, Bifford drops to both knees, nearly crying, as the referee reenters and hands the man the World Title, previously worn by Silverfreak almost a month ago. Bifford raises it in the air, as the crowd releases another huge cheer for the big man. Marsha Stewart rolls into the ring, with Martin the Chef behind her, both celebrating with Bifford. Loser-rr’s still lying where Handy Man planted him, out cold. ~
~The footage ends and Bifford is back standing in the ring with Earl and Martin.~
Bifford: This was a long time ago.. the schtick back then was that I was afraid of trees.. and KILLER KAL decided to use that against me and try to bring a tree INTO my World Title match.. well, I’ve only been brooding about that for 20 years.. so KAL, when we fight at Truth or Consequences, I will be getting my righteous revenge when Plethora the Perilous stops your journey and ends your dreams.. just like I ended the dreams of Brim, the 20 year journey of The Lost Soul, the unbeatable title reign of Outcast. You might have won the prison yard match, KILLER KAL, but you will lose to me at the end. Nightmares come true more often than dreams, KILLER KAL.
~The fans boo Bifford mercilessly.~
Bifford: As for next week.. I’ll pick a random name out of a hat and will defend the OCW Champion against them on Massacre. Earl, do you have the hat?
~Bifford turns and looks to Earl, who is holding the folded-up Plethora robe. He clearly doesn’t have a hat.~
Earl (whispering loudly): I forgot it in the back..
Jones: Oh come on...we already know it's Veronica.
Hood: We do?
Jones: Yes, she announced it earlier in the show. Bifford is just out here wasting time, like always.
Hood: Well I'm going to wait for the OFFICIAL word.
Jones: -
Hood: Shut up! I think Bifford is about to say something very important
~Bifford groans and barks orders at a stagehand standing near the ring. The employee jogs to the back as Bifford stands in the ring with time to kill.~
Bifford: Ever hear the one about Mario Maurako?
~Bifford gives pause like he’s actually telling a joke to the crowd.~
Bifford: He never wins the OCW Title..
~The fans boo Bifford for the bad joke.~
Bifford: Ever hear the one about Alice Knight?
~The fans cheer as the stagehand reappears with a hat. He jogs up to the ring and hands the hat to Earl, who presents it to Bifford.~
Bifford: Alright.. getting an OCW Championship match next week.. is..
~Bifford reaches into the hat and pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper.~
Bifford: The challenger is..
~Uncrumpling the paper~
Bifford: Danger—.. what? Veronica Strader? What the hell?
~Bifford angrily reaches into the hat again and pulls out another.~
Biffford: Veronica Strader?!
~Bifford reaches into the hat again and pulls out another and he looks angry.~
Bifford: They’re all supposed to say Dangerous Dan, but they all say Veronica Strader..
~Turning toward the camera, Bifford looks angry.~
Bifford: I don’t know who did this.. but whoever did.. Veronica Strader’s blood is on your hands. You like calling me out on Twitter, Strader? You want your name in my hat? YOU WANT TO FIGHT BIFFORD? Let’s see how it goes.
~Bifford throws the crumpled up pieces of paper down in the ring and holds up his OCW Championship as Gangsta’s Paradise begins playing again.~
Hood: WOW! Bifford is the World Champion AND we are getting a title match on Massacre next week! It was him under the robe, which was completely a secret until now, this whole time! This is the best OCW Championship run we have EVER SEEN!
Jones: Uh.. sure. Well folks, we're out of time. Next week we'll have Bifford defending his OCW Title against Veronica Strader! A pay per view level main event on Massacre! Don't miss it!
~Bifford kicks at the paper on the mat, staring at them, wondering why they don't read 'Dan' as we fade out~