LIVE! July 25th 2022
FROM The Paycom Center
In Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
~We cut to the OCW parking lot. Wayyyyy in the back. Leo is standing by with a mic in hand~
Leo: Welcome to Monday Night Massacre, folks! I’m out here waiting on an exclusive. HUGE news regarding a change to tonight’s lineup.
~Leo stops and looks down the road. He sees a giant, commercial bus heading their way. You know the kind. The kind that carries bands or sports teams to and from events. Or, ya know, the type that might take a bunch of really old people to and from the nearest casino~
Leo: An event that features Helena Handbasket back in action against The Dirtbag Kid AND Amick Dogeron taking on the Lobster Mobster as a tune up before his long awaited one on one battle with JPD at Truth or Consequences. Not to mention Zak Slovak AND Cyrus Braddock making their OCW in-ring debuts!
~The bus draws nearer~
Leo: We’ve got The Influence making their debut in tag team action against one of OCW’s top tag teams, BAM G. Not to mention, teammates last week, enemies this week, Ray-Ray and Ball Ball, the two tallest members on the roster, will go one on one in what should be one of the more unique battles in OCW history!
~The bus is almost there~
Leo: And, in our main event, we have former OCW Champion, Outcast returning for the first time since losing his precious belt to Plethora all the way back at Technical Difficulties when we were stranded on an island that wound up being blown up by a volcano named Frank. Luckily, Thaddeus Duke arrived to save us all.
~The bus stops in front of Leo~
Leo: Is it? Yes, I believe it is!
~The doors open and we wait...and wait...and wait until, finally...HE emerges! It’s the sheriff himself. It’s EHUD OF MOAB!! Ehud exits the bus...a bunch of the female octogenarians aboard cat call and whistle. One of them toss Ehud her dentures so he can savor the flavor for later. Ehud approaches Leo...his eyes narrow...that thousand yard stare returns as he looks upon the arena and beyond, beyond to the horizon~
Leo: Ehud! What brings you to Oklahoma City?
Ehud of Moab: I think its about time ole Ehud thinks about hangin up his boots. This sport hasn’t had an event built around a legend’s last match in a long, long time. The final match of a legendary wrestler so popular and so well known that his name nad the words ‘final match’ are all it takes to sell thousnads of tickets and, to possibly lure the time traveling Grimace.
Leo: Wait, are you saying you are going to wrestle your final match tonight?
Ehud of Moab: It’s time. You tell them fans in that arena and on the television that Ehud’s final match is tonight. I’ll step into that ring and take on any wrestler with the guts to face this right hand.
~Ehud throws a wild punch. Leo narrowly dodges getting knocked out~
Leo: As strong as ever, Ehud.
Ehud: You got that right.
~Ehud takes a step forward. The Arena is pretty far away, I mean we’re in the VERY back of the parking lot. Leo sticks his arm out~
Leo: Ehud, my man. Let’s take a golf cart up there. That’s a long walk.
~Ehud’s head snaps in Leo’s direction. He scowls and spits, staring a hole through Leo~
Ehud of Moab: You sayin I’m too old to make the walk?
Leo: Of course not.
Ehud of Moab: You workin for Grimace??
Leo: Never.
~Ehud’s eyes narrow into two little slits. He looks up, leaning in on Leo before slowly nodding~
Ehud of Moab: Okay, then. You get on that little golf cart and rest them little legs of yours. I’m marching...marching toward my final match. Marching toward one more ass whipping.
~Leo isn’t gonna argue with the famed Sheriff. Ehud takes a step forward, toward the Arena. Leo turns to the camera~
Leo: Folks, it’s Ehud’s final match tonight on Massacre...just as soon as he makes it to the arena he will challenge any person brave enough to face him! We’ve got a stacked show...we’re six days away from Truth or Consequences. Massacre starts NOW!
~We cut LIVE! To the Paycom Center in Oklahoma City. The crowd is hyped! Signs are waving like inflatable men only not as tall and not nearly as annoying. A sign catches our eye, it states, “JPD Is gonna die on Sunday.” Okay, then. Fans chant “OCW! OCW! OCW!” We cut to ringside. Gangsta’s Paradise begins playing and The Big Bifford makes his way toward the ring carrying the OCW Championship belt. The fans react with massive boos for the champion.~
Jones: Well, they’re happy to see Bifford as always..
Hood: I’m happy to see Bifford and that’s all that matters!
~Bifford climbs into the ring and is handed a microphone. His music fades out and the fans continue booing loudly.~
Bifford: Glad to be here in this shit town in this shit state in the shitty south..
~The fans start screaming at Bifford and he laughs.~
Jones: Really endearing himself to these fans..
Bifford: This weekend I will face my biggest challenger yet.. he’s a legitimate criminal who won a prison yard match. He is a tree-wielding maniac. He attacked me last week in total cowardice. KILLER KAL, you have NO CHANCE.
~The fans just continue booing Bifford, not really popping for Killa Kali’s name being mentioned.~
Bifford: And in the land of Silverfreak I will pin you and end your OCW career.. or maybe you can go challenge Tamika Strader for the Oceanic Title.
~A small but vocal group of fans pop for the mention of the Oceanic belt.~
Bifford: KILLER KAL, over seven thousand days ago, you tried to stop me from capturing this illegitimate championship.. a championship I won from your buddy Playboy G and the Handyman.. But I didn’t win it from the Champion.. this belt has been illegitimate from that moment onward. However, beating you in the hometown of Silverfreak will give some more legitimacy to this belt. With each win, it becomes more real. With each win, I eclipse Silverfreak and I show that I am the rightful champion and that this belt will become legitimate.
~The fans boo Bifford almost continuously.~
Bifford: And as my current title reign has lasted longer than any previous title reigns.. I will give you a moment to CELEBRATE BIFFORD. Celebrate me, you stupid southern hicks!
~The fans are booing and screaming unflattering things. Bifford turns around and Buffy the Vampire Slayer is with him in the ring. Some fans gasp, not knowing where she came from.~
Bifford: Huh?
~Buffy leans in and whispers something to Bifford. Bifford looks concerned and drops the microphone. He climbs out of the ring and runs toward the backstage area. Buffy follows him, as does a cameraman. Bifford runs into the back and meets Martin Ka’Berryon (dressed in a large cluster of grapes costume) and Earl the Popcorn Salesman who are standing near a closet.~
Bifford: How bad is it?
Earl: She killed 4 fans at the concession stand area, but we got the corpses before anyone saw.
Martin: Something is wrong with this woman. She just finds weapons and starts stabbing people. We will never know who she’ll stab next.
Earl: We locked her in this closet. We need to call the police and have this woman arrested.
Bifford: Let me talk to her..
~Bifford walks over to the closet and opens the door. Inside Kenny’s Aunt Bella, who may actually just be actress Margo Martindale, is standing covered in blood and looking guilty.~
Bifford (talking into the closet): Aunt Bella, we’ve talked about this..
~Bifford continues talking into the closet at Aunt Bella as Earl, Buffy, and Martin look on. Earl looks at Bifford and then whispers towards Buffy~
Earl (whispering): It’s kinda ironic how Bifford is now trying to prevent murder..
~Earl looks to where Buffy was but she has disappeared. Then he looks over at Martin, who is whispering toward a wall.~
Earl: You talking to Buffy?
~The camera looks over Martin’s shoulder and catches the view of the ghost of Martin’s father.~
Martin’s Dad’s Ghost: You need to kill Bifford this week in New Mexico.. avenge my death before it’s too late, my son.
~Martin turns to look at Earl and looks confused.~
Martin: No, is Buffy here? Is Buffy real?
~The two men share an awkward silence as Bifford turns and closes the closet door.~
Bifford: Done and taken care of.. Now, you two make sure she gets to New Mexico safe.. we’ve got stuff to do this week.
Earl: Preparing for your match with Killa Kali?
Bifford: I’ve been ready for my match with KILLER KAL for over 7000 days, Earl. This week we are going to find and murder Silverfreak..
~A cell phone rings and Earl reaches into his pocket. He answers the phone and takes a step away. Bifford looks at Martin with a puzzled look on his face.~
Bifford: Did you just whisper something at that wall?
~Martin, who obviously was communicating with the ghost of his dead father, nervously shakes his head. Earl hangs up the phone and looks back at the two men.~
Earl: We’ve got problems.. that was our snitch from the Columbus jail where they’re holding Kenny.. he’s met with the lawyer 7 times, but he also got another visitor.
~Bifford glares at Earl with a face that said he was preparing to get really angry.~
Earl: Javier Carlisle.. that journalist from the New York Times.. didn’t you pay him off?
~Bifford just walks away looking insanely angry. Martin and Earl share a look.~
Martin: Things are all falling apart, aren’t they?
Earl: Yep.. we gonna go to prison for a long time.. but right now we gotta get this old murder lady to New Mexico.. so.. hide any sharp objects.
Martin: I’m wearing a grape cluster costume bro.. I can’t be stabbed.
~The two of them share a laugh as they go to open the closet door as the scene changes to…
~Dressed in common street clothes, Sahara’s loosely tied Doc Martens absently clod against the floor as she paces around. Light purple hues still extending from her left upper breast, remnants of her war with Cypher who found it prudent to chop at her chest all fucking night.
~She mumbles to herself, contemplating whether she even belongs.
SAHARA: I don’t know why I fucking bother… maybe I don’t got it anymore. Maybe I never did. I barely beat Claudius… and then lost to Cyph. What the fuck is wrong with me?
Does anyone else ever feel like this?
Dick signs, fans asking me to bite them… how about I fuckin’ stab you?! How’s that sound you fucking assholes?
~She let out a deep sigh and wiped her misty eyes. It’s obvious the way people look at her bothers her.
SAHARA: My entire career… nobody takes me seriously.
~She balled her hands into fists over and over, as if trying to release some sort of pent up tension. She closes her eyes and grits her teeth. A quiet knock at the door grabbed her attention, causing her to roll her eyes. She quickly perked up, standing a bit taller as she fixed up her hair. As if on cue, that bright smile of hers returns…
SAHARA: Just a second!
~Turning on a bootheel, she approaches the door and swings it open–
SAHARA: Frankie?!
~Dropping down to one knee, she hugs her son but shakes her head.
SAHARA: Why are you here?! It’s a school night!
FRANKIE DUKE: First of all, it’s July. But anyway, can we talk to you?
~Pushing his hair back over an ear in a motherly fashion, she looked confused, but smiled at her son.
SAHARA: We?
~Stepping in behind Frankie was her husband, the majority owner of OCW, Thaddeus Duke. That smile quickly faded from her face.
SAHARA: I uh… yeah. What’s up?
~Walking further into the room, she takes a seat on one of the benches and leans her elbows against her knees. Both Thad and Frankie notice the rather dejected look on her face.
THAD: What’s up?! How about the way you’ve been acting all week? Or the fact you didn’t sign up for a match tonight…
SAHARA: Sign up for what? So I can be made fun of some more? Oh, I know, maybe I can go out there and listen to more fat jokes, or sign some fucking penises–
~She stopped herself, remembering her son was present.
FRANKIE: Ewww.
SAHARA: I’m sorry… I just… I can’t do this anymore. They treated me like this in FIGHT, and they’re doing it here now, and I just wanna–
~She wiped her eyes and took a deep breath, a weak attempt at calming her overwhelming emotions. As Thad opened his mouth to respond, Frankie held up a hand and chimed in.
FRANKIE: Wanna what?
SAHARA: What?
FRANKIE: You said you wanna… wanna what?
~There was a lingering silence before she lifted her icy blue eyes and looked at her son.
SAHARA: Hurt people. And I don’t mean for the sake of victory… I want ‘em to feel what I feel. I wanna make ‘em bleed, and cry, and beg for mercy that’ll never come.
THAD: That’s exactly what you should be doing. I didn’t sign Fluffy McStuffins worried about whether or not her friends are still gonna be her friends after she kicks their fucking ass. I signed Sahara. I signed the Queen of all Bitches. You’re not fat like they say, you’re not a slut like they say. Yet you just let the mud they sling stick to you like its all a fucking fact.
Stop being so god damn nice.
You’re not even that nice to me and you’re my fucking wife.
SAHARA: That’s easy for you to say. They revere you. When I go out there and kill myself for them, they chant slut at me–
FRANKIE: Okkkkayyyy… moving on. When did you start giving a darn what everyone else thinks?
~Sahara looks down but says nothing.
FRANKIE: I watch your promos, Mom. I know what you think if you lose. You think it’ll disappoint me and you’d be letting me down. That’s why I left you that voicemail last week.
SAHARA: What voicemail?
THAD: The one you refused to listen to.
FRANKIE: What the hell, you didn’t even listen to it!?
SAHARA: I was afraid of what you might…
FRANKIE: Just stop.
~Frankie pulls Sahara’s phone from her hand and calls her voicemail.
FRANKIE: Not it.
Not it.
Not… did you know you’re past due on the phone bill?
THAD: It’s paid, don’t worry about it.
FRANKIE: Not it.
Not it.
Jesus Christ, empty your voicemail box once in a while.
Here we go!
~Frankie turns on the speaker phone.
FRANKIE VOICEMAIL: Hey Mom it’s me. Ummm… I just wanted to tell you to keep your head up. Tough loss tonight against a really tough opponent but you’ll get him next time. I know I’m only 11 but I do see things ya know? You let Tyler get into your head. You’re letting everyone into your head and it’s affecting your matches.
So you got haters. Dad always told me that haters are just fans that wanna watch you fail. So, why give them what they want? Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Just be what you’re supposed to be and kick all the butts.
Love you Mom, goodnight.
~As the voicemail ended, a proud little smile curled her lips as Sahara scooted forward off the bench and dropped to her knees. She looked at her boy and nodded as she took his face in her hands.
SAHARA: Have I ever told you that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me? You're the greatest son I never thought I'd have.
~She hugged him tightly for a few moments, before standing up. Somehow, she felt a bit taller, and the world suddenly felt a whole lot smaller. She looked to her husband.
SAHARA: I just hope you don't hate what I'm about to become... because I'm done bein' made fun of. I'm done fuckin' around.
And I'm done bein' nice.
~Sahara exits the locker room leaving Thad and Frankie to their own devices.
FRANKIE: Hey it worked!
THAD: Yeah.
~Thad holds his hand out and Frankie slaps him 5.
THAD: You know, if we ever put our heads together for evil…
FRANKIE: Well, we just might’ve.
~Thad looks at Frankie.
FRANKIE: You know her better than I do! She shows side boob to beat a child at Mario Kart, what do you think she’s gonna do when her career is on the skids?
THAD: That’s a good point.
FRANKIE: This was your idea.
THAD: Yeah well… there’s no putting the toothpaste back in the tube.
FRANKIE: I get the feeling the whole roster is about to have a real bad time.
~Thad looks at Frankie again.
THAD: Good.
~We cut away to commercial~
Catch the Reformation replay for the ULTRA LOW PRICE of $69.69!!!!
AKB: Ladies and gentlemen, I've received word that we have a late arrival to the show tonight… But i dont know when they are going to show up, so let me tell you about my day. It started at around 6 in the morn-
~Headlights flash AKB as he cuts his story short, the cameras flick over to see who it is. A Tesla Model X, The SUV looking one, Speeds into the parking lot with that signature electronic buzz. He pulls right up next to the interview crew as the doors on the luxury car swing up, and Easton Alexander, Dressed in a casual hoodie, jeans and a slick pair of red and black Jordans.~
Easton: AK… how's it going brotha.
AKB: Mr. Alexander… By my watch you're a little late for call time.
Easton: Well ya see Mr interviewer man, I have a very good reason for that, last week me and my team couldn't get the job done, and my current string of losses have put me in a deep state of negative energy… SO.
~Easton walks around to the back of the car and opens the trunk, it's slow to open since it's automatic… filling the air with some uncomfortable energy, but the trunk opens wide and as Easton reaches in, AKB recoils as the Dragon produces a pair of baseball bats, one of which is wrapped with barbed wire~
AKB: Good god Easton. You stop by Dick’s on the way to work today?
Easton: No no, you see… I'm here tonight for a fun time, and i've brought a couple very fine ladies tonight.
~He holds up the bats and looks at the regular metal one first~
Easton: This is Justine, she's very nice and pretty, she's loyal but knows when to deal out some damage… this ones for Mr. Braddock.
~He holds up the wooden one that's wrapped in barbed wire~
Easton: This is Stephanie, She used to be a good girl but as you see now, she's got a sharp edge… she's a real freak…
~AKB’s mouth is watering, who in their right mind would describe bats like this?~
Easton: … And i've brought stephanie for Mr. Duke.
AKB: But Easton, Thad hasn't been cleared for combat in months.
Easton: That's correct…
~Easton doesn't elaborate, and walks away from the camera crew who attempt to keep up with him~
Easton: Now AKB… have you seen Thad tonight.
AKB: I think he's in his office but you should really think about this Easton. You've already taken some heat for hurting people. Think about what would happen if you hurt the owner.
~Easton turns to face AKB staring him down, AKB shrinks back as he looks away from Easton~
Easton: I've done enough thinking, i'm gonna start taking matters into my own hands… now you can follow me to Thads office, or you can fuck off... Respectfully
~Easton storms off, bats to his sides as AKB steps back into frame~
AKB: Well folks… I guess we can catch up with him later… I need a drink.
~We cut back to Jones and Hood~
Jones: A very unique start to Massacre tonight folks! Bifford is harboring a murderer while his entourage are seeing and talking to ghosts...Sahara is about to lose her shit and snap...and Easton, well, he's double wielding bats, eager to put them to use.
Hood: Yea, and last time I checked the Home Run Derby was LAST week.
Jones: I was really pulling for Pujols.
Hood: Okay, that's enough baseball talk. We're trying to gain and retain viewers, not lose them.
Jones: Sorry...anyway, it's time for some in-ring action...doesn't that sound nice?
~The fans behind the announce team go wild~
Jones: Great, let's...wait, hold on! I'm told we're having some backstage issues.
Hood: Oh boy, here we go.
Jones: Leo? What's going on back there??
~We cut backstage. Leo has, obviously, made it back on his golf cart. He looks down at The Knife Man and Machete Phil...they are bent over, checking on a bloodied and unconscious Sugar Valentine~
Leo: Uh, yea guys. I know Sugar Valentine is scheduled to compete against Zak Slovak but...well, it looks like somebody already beat Slovak to the punch...literally.
Jones: Great. Are they going to find a replacement for Sugar?
Leo: I mean, normally they would but with half the NPC roster having been laid off last month, the rest are kinda leery about working more than they have to. Why bust your balls if you're gonna get shit canned a week later, ya know?
Jones: Wildly pragmatic thinking for a group of mindless characters.
Leo: Yes, I thought so. No word on who attacked Sugar and, oddly enough, no sign of Zak Slovak...ya know, since you asked. So, it seems as though our opening match tonight is not going to happen. Back to you!
~We cut back to the announce table. Jones looks at Hood...Hood looks at Jones. Both men sigh and push forward~
Jones: Well, okay then. We'll have to wait a bit longer before we get any in-ring action. So, since we have some unexpected time to fill...more segments!
~We cut away~
~The screen is filled with blonde that whips around as its owner turns on the spot. As it settles, Sloane Taylor bounces on the balls of her feet, a big grin across her face~
“Hi everyone!” She says with an enthusiastic double wave. “I know some of you will know me - looking at you Mr and Mrs Duke! But for those of you who don’t, my name is Sloane Taylor. I’m the Sky Queen, and the current Pro Wrestling Valor Disavowed Champion.”
~Sloane nods assuredly~
“Now, I know you’re probably wondering why I’m here on Massacre. It’s been a little while since I worked Monday nights. But I was hoping you guys could help me…” She says, before beckoning the camera nearer. “Some of you might have heard of my boyfriend - the UGWC Chaos Champion, Sebastian Everett-Bryce. He used to add “the third” on the end of his name, but we don’t talk about that anymore.”
~She pulls an awkward face, before shaking it off~
“Anyway - we’ve been together for almost six months now, but we’ve known each other for three whole years. And recently, I’ve really been hoping he would pop the question… You know?” She placed her hands on her hips to show her frustration with his clearly slug-like pace. “But here’s the thing - I’m a modern woman, and he’s a modern man… And I started to think… Hey, why do I need to wait around for him?”
~She smiled, and bounced a little again, betraying her excitement~
“So… Whaddya think, hmm? You guys want to help me ask him?” She lifted her head as if waiting for an answer before she broke out into a big smile and did a little hop up and down. “Oh my god you do?! That’s amazing!”
~She clasped her hands together~
“Okay, let’s go.” She said, before turning around and leading the camera through their New York apartment. She tapped lightly on a door at the far end of the corridor before opening it up and stepping inside.
“Hey…” Said Seb, before he noticed the camera, his brow furrowed. “Hey?”
“Hey Seb!” Sloane said with a smile on her face. “So you know how things have been going so great between us? And how we’re so good together and you know… How we’ve always blended so well?”
“Yeeeeeeah…” Seb said, his narrowed eyes flicking between Sloane and the camera.
“Well… I was wondering…” She said, before she slowly lowered down to one knee.
“Wait… What’s happening here?” Seb asked, his eyes wider still, his hands held out in something like protest.
“I have a question for you, Sebastian.” Sloane said with an excited look upon her face.
“Oh I can see that, but maybe we should think about…” Seb said, before clearing his throat and gulping.
“Sebastian Everett-Bryce.” Sloane said, reaching up and taking him by the hand.
“Sloane…” Seb followed.
“Will you be my partner in the Margarita Mix?” Sloane asked. Seb blinked at her rapidly for what felt like an eternity before…
“Oh my god. Yes! Of courseI will!” He said, before pulling her up to her feet and lifting her bodily into the air and almost crushing her with a hug. They pulled away from one another and turned towards the camera, Sloane beaming and Seb smirking.
“OCW.” Said Seb with a smile. “Mr and Mrs Chaos are coming for a fight, and trust me when I say, we can't wait to welcome you all… to our Empire.”
~Seb’s smirk returned as Sloane winked at the camera and blew everyone watching a kiss before we fade out~
Jones: Oh my gosh! SEB and Sloane Taylor are in the MIX!
Hood: I don’t know much about them, but they’ve got to be the prettiest couple in the entire field. Way better looking than Dolly and Thunder Knuckles.
Jones: Hey! Looks have nothing to do with, it, by the way.
Hood: You think I don’t know that? Look at our last two champions...Bifford and Outcast.
Jones: Huge news, folks. The MIX field is SET and the final two additions have taken the talent level up another notch. A field FULL of main event players.
Hood: I mean, would you expect anything less? It’s the Margarita Mix, baby!
Jones: That it is! The MIX officially begins next month. Twelve teams will get parsed down to 8 and they will all do battle at the Margarita Mix PPV LIVE on Sunday, August 28th.
Hood: Shit’s gonna be rad.
Jones: Alright, let’s take a commercial break and, when we come back...IN RING ACTION
Hood: Holy fuckin shit.
Jones: But first...I’m told we have an update on Ehud.
Hood: Uh, okay.
~We cut to the parking lot. Ehud is marching. He slams his fist into his hand. He’s fired up. He’s marching. He’s heading toward the arena at his own pace. We cut back to Jones and Hood~
Jones: Ehud’s coming! And, just as soon as he gets here, we’ll be treated to the final match of Ehud’s pro wrestling career!
Hood: Sounds like a good opportunity for a piss break.
Jones: Alright folks, commercial time! More Massacre when we return!
Helena Handbasket (0-1) vs. The Dirtbag Kid (0-3)
~The Dirtbag Kid is standing in the ring, rocking out to some headphones connected to a portable CD player. It seems like maybe he’s listening to his own theme song while slamming back an ice cold can of SURGE. Belvedere looks over at him, shaking his head. He then hops to his announcing duties~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Currently in the ring, The Dirtbag Kid!!!
Jones: Dirtbag Kid back inside the ring.
Hood: Unfortunately.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"There's the CMG, The GCMG and the KCMG." The word opening of Psychosomatic begins playing as the snarp drums come in and a two step tune starts. Horns next as the lights dim, when they come up Helena Handbasket twirls out from behind the curtain. The Atomic Blonde throws her arms out wide and seems to roar to the crowd! Helena whirls around as the weird song built from movie quotes and jazz music keeps rolling, she spins on a heel and plays to the crowd as she walks down the ramp. Introduction here: Helena turns and grins, winking at the camera, as "THAT BOY NEEDS THERAPY" continuing droning on over head. Helena hops up onto the guard rail, and rolls head first onto the ring apron, pulling herself to do a headstand against the ropes. The Atomic Blonde lifts herself up and leaps backlwards into the ring via a handspring! Handbasket gives a big sweeping bow in the ring as her music fades~
Belvedere: From Pandora’s Box, standing 5’3 and weighing in at 120lbs...Helena Handbasket!!!
Jones: And here she is! Helena is back in the ring, looking to rebound from her tough loss last week.
Hood: Well, so long as she can prevent the Dirtbag Kid from SURGING to victory, she should be fine.
Jones: Horrible.
~Belvedere exits and the bell rings. DBK points at Helena...we’re not sure what song he’s jamming to, but it must be super aggressive. He slings his can of SURGE at her...she dodges it. DBK charges in and throws a roundhouse kick! Helena catches his kick and lifts a knee of her own into his chin!! DBK stumbles into a corner. Helena charges in and she cracks another knee into DBK’s face!!! DBK leans back, reeling. Helena drags him out of the corner and she jumps up and drops him with Supersonics (Codebreaker)!!! DBK’s body shoots up into the air...the head phones and CD player fly out of the ring crashing and breaking at ringside with a Limp Bizkit CD falling out. DBK is down. Helena pops back to her feet, receiving a strong ovation from the fans~
Jones: So he was jamming to Limp Bizkit.
Hood: Well, that makes sense.
Jones: I’m old enough to remember when half our roster came out to Limp Bizkit music.
Hood: Sadly, so am I.
~DBK’s body is limp, just like a bizkit. Helena pulls him off the mat...straightening him up, making sure he’s on his feet and semi-stable. She then BLASTS him in the face with Feck off (Bullhammer). DBK stumbles into the ropes...he staggers forward and Helena hits him in the head with Screw U! (Spinning Knee)!!!!! DBK goes down!! Helena makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...HELENA HANDBASKET!!!!!
Jones: Helena with a very impressive, efficient win tonight against The Dirtbag Kid.
Hood: She went in last week as the favorite and got clipped by Cass. Tonight, she got that win back and, well, I’d be surprised if she isn’t the favorite heading into Truth or Consequences.
Jones: It’s not a matter of talent. It’s all about acclimation. Will Helena adapt and earn a Craze Title shot on Sunday? Tune into Truth or Consequences to find out!
~CJ is walking out of his locker room when he pauses, looking around. All he sees is a garbage can by the door in the hallway. Whistling he starts walking down when Killa Kali explodes out of the garbage can and whacks CJ over the head with two huge silver spoons. CJ Falls as Killa Kali climbs out and reaches into the can. Pulling out a box of Lucky Charms he pours them over CJ~
Killa Kali: Surprise motherfucker! Eat up, they’re Magically delicious my irish friend.
~Storming off down the hallway, he looks back and grins at CJ as CJ rises to his feet. CJ smiles with evil intentions at Killa Kali~
Jones: The attacks continue!
Hood: Are these guys ever gonna fight?
Jones: You’d have to think so. Kali defeated CJ inside the Prison Yard back at Reformation, earning an OCW Title shot...something CJ has not forgotten and will not forgive.
Hood: If Kali isn’t careful, all these games with CJ are gonna cost him his OCW Title match against Bifford.
Jones: Yep, he needs to stay focused. Alright folks. Another commercial break and then more Massacre, when we return!
~Backstage, we find CYPH3R in the locker room. He’s watching over Cass Baumer, fresh off her first OCW win, doing the job that even The Superior Design’s own girlfriend had refused to do.
Polish the TransAtlantic Championship - which stays ON during…you know.~
CYPH3R: Yeah, make sure you shine up that name plate real nice, there was a uh…spillage the other night.
Cass: It better be an energy drink.
CYPH3R: Uhhh…sure we’ll go with that. Once you’re done with the nameplate, could you get the sideplates too? I wanna be able to see myself in them.
~As a entrant in the upcoming Truth Or Consequences triple threat match for the TransAtlantic Championship contendership, Cass Baumer doesn’t look too bothered by the prospect of cleaning the title with a pair of blue latex gloves and toothpaste cream. Gently rubbing the substance against the slick composite metal, she doesn’t lose her enthusiasm as her green-blue eyes twinkle against the fluorescent lights above with the title in her hands.~
Cass: No problem, bud.
~As she cleans, the TransAtlantic Championship grows more reflective by the moment. Soon, Cass could see herself in the gold while CYPH3R looked over her shoulder. A devious, playful smirk crosses her lips, then.~
Cass: Hey, can you gimme a favour, Cy? I heard there’s vanilla cake in catering today. Mind popping in there and grabbing me a slice real fast?
CYPH3R: Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back.
~Baumer continues to clean, rubbing the cream against the sideplates as she was asked while CYPH3R makes his way towards catering. Right as Cass catches a glimpse of him turning the corner through the reflection of the title, though, the kiwi laughs and drops her cleaning supplies! Breaking out into a sprint in the opposite direction with the TransAtlantic Championship clutched in her arms, she shouts with glee as she jumps to click the heels of her designer Nike sneakers together. When she lands on two feet, Baumer keeps on running.~
~Back in the locker room, CYPH3R opens the door holding a plate with two slices of vanilla cake on it.~
CYPH3R: Catering was a war zone, Sahara’s gatekeeping the shrimp like a woman possessed and-
~He stops in his tracks, realizing both Cass and his TransAtlantic Championship are gone.~
CYPH3R: Oh you little BITCH!
~Quickly annihilating the two slices of cake to spite Cass, CYPH3R charges out of the room and sees Cass quickly disappearing around a corner ahead of him, title belt firmly in her grasp. Giving chase, CYPH3R pursues his friend and potential title challenger around the corner. By the time he’s whipped around the corner he is greeted by the sound of a door closing, and Cass is nowhere to be seen. Before him are a series of doors on either side of the hallway.~
CYPH3R: I’m gonna get you, you little gremlin.
~CYPH3R flings open a door and charges inside, but the camera remains in the hallway. As the door swings shut behind him, there’s a brief pause, then another swings open and Cass runs out with the title. She runs right through another door, which as she reaches it the door behind her flings open, revealing CYPH3R hot on her trail!~
CYPH3R: BITCH PLEASE!
Cass: You’ll never take me alive!
~The chase continues with doors being flung open and CYPH3R chasing Cass from room to room, in a looney-tunes style pursuit. Eventually Cass, title slung over her shoulder, runs out of a door on the left, only to be met in the middle by CYPH3R, who has appeared from a door on the right. Cass doesn’t have the momentum to stop herself, and runs right into BOOM, HEADSHOT! The superkick lays out Cass, and CYPH3R snatches his title back.~
CYPH3R: Gotcha.
~ As CYPH3R turns around he is greeted with a Running Single Leg High Knee to the side of the face by a hooded figure. The TransAtlantic Championship flies up into the air as the hooded figure catches it. CYPH3R is on the floor next to Cass as the figure takes off the hood to show it is none other than “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell. CJ's head is wounded and bruised from Kali's attack before the break. He doesn't look too happy. But, he looks at the TransAtlantic Title and then down at CYPH3R. ~
CJ O’Donnell: Thank you very much. Cass you did one helluva job on cleaning _my_ title. I’ll send you a box or two of snickers for leading Tyler into the hallway. Our plan worked to perfection.
~CJ goes to toss his hoodie back on, but some Lucky Charms fly out. He grumbles~
CJ O'Donnell: Kali.
~An annoyed, bruised CJ walks away with the TransAtlantic Title over his left shoulder. Cass and CYPH3R are both on the floor holding their heads as CJ is whistling down the hallway. ~
Jones: CJ had a mission. Kali got in the way but did not deter him. Now that his mission is accomplished, he's set out to find his weekly assailant.
Hood: And, he's got CYPH3R's jizz rag...err, I mean, Title.
Jones: HOOD! How dare you besmirch the TransAtlantic Title.
Hood: Who cares. Not like that title actually stands for something...just looks cool.
Jones: Alright fans...more in ring action is coming your way as Amick Dogeron gets set for one final tune up before Truth or Consequences as he faces the dreaded LOBSTER MOBSTER! To the ring!
Amick Dogeron (8-2) vs. Lobster Mobster (0-5)
Jones: Up next folks we have a first time matchup as The Lobster Mobster is set for action against Amick Dogeron. You know Hood, I was surprised this past week when we heard from The Lobster Mobster. He’s been eerily quiet since his OCW debut.
Hood: Not only did we hear from him, we also were introduced to his partner Rusty Crab and his lovely lady Elyna D’Escargot. The Lobster Mobster is tired of losing and he’s called in some backup.
Jones: He’s going to need that backup and then some tonight, as he’s got his claws full with Amick Dogeron.
Hood: Amick’s got one week until Jace destroys him. I don’t know how much of a chance The Lobster Mobster has, but Amick’s distractions could be what it takes for Mobster’s first win here.
Jones: Let’s head to the ring for the action!
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen… The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first…
~“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: Another classic entrance from Amick Dogeron. It never ceases to amaze me how consistently he comes to the ring.
Hood: I don’t like the guy, but I have to admit his entrance is cool and never changes. It’s almost as if it’s been written out in advance.
Jones: You gotta love it when the entrances have that feel to them.
Belvedere: And his opponent, accompanied to the ring by Rusty Crab and Elyna D’Escargot…
~An incredibly rare and real rap remix of “Rock Lobster” by the B52s begins to play over the PA. Trust me, it’s real… no need to do research. Rusty Crab comes out onto the stage waving his claws for the crowd to make noise. They do not. Out next is Elyna D’Escargot, the slippery snail that drives all the mollusks crazy. Finally, The Lobster Mobster comes out to a moderate amount of boos. His fedora falls off, but Rusty quickly grabs it and puts it back on. The Mobster has his tommy gun wedged between his claws, clearly as a prop. The trio make their way to the ring, doing their best to imply they are actual mobsters. As they approach the ring, D’Escargot begins circling the ring while Rusty heads to Mobster’s corner. Mobster climbs the ring steps and enters the ring. He hands Rusty the gun and his hat, then turns to stare a determined Amick Dogeron in the face.~
Jones: Mobster and his entourage have arrived and this match is ready to begin!
DING DING DING
~Amick wastes no time rushing toward Mobster, who has no time to adjust. He smashes his forearm into Mobster’s face, then another, then another, he whips him off the ropes and connects with a backflip drop kick, landing on his feet. As Mobster gets back to his feet, Amick rushes forward hitting him with a spear. Amick rolls off and waits for Mobster to get to his knees, then nails him with an enziguri kick. Mobster rolls to the outside to regroup with Rusty and Elyna.~
Jones: Amick has come out strong tonight Hood, and if I’m being honest, in a style that is different from what we’ve come to know.
Hood: We’ve definitely never seen him use a spear like that.
~Amick bounces off the ropes and explodes over the top rope with a suicide dive onto the sea creatures. He picks Mobster up and quickly rolls him into the ring while the other two remain on the floor. He picks Mobster up and hits him with a neck breaker. He doesn’t let go, instead lifting Mobster back up to his feet, this time hitting a swinging neck breaker.~
Jones: There he goes again using moves we’ve not seen him do. The style almost reminds me of… Hood, Amick Dogeron is taking it to The Lobster Mobster using JPD’s move set!
Hood: Good Lord. This masked idiot is so pathetic he can’t even come up with moves of his own.
Jones: No, Hood. That’s not it at all. Amick’s proving a point here. He knows what JPD is thinking. He knows what he might do in the ring. It’s psychological warfare.
~Amick lifts Mobster back to his feet, this time hitting him with a snap suplex. He brings him back up, then hits a tiger suplex. One more time for a belly to belly suplex, launching Mobster across the ring. He plays to the crowd while Mobster stirs, then runs and nails him with the V-trigger. Mobster is out of it lying in the middle of the ring. Amick looks to end the match, but Rusty Crab hops up onto the ring apron. Amick runs over and uses the top rope to launch Rusty into the ring. He climbs to the middle rope and waits for Rusty to turn around, he leaps off nailing him with a Lung Blower. Rusty powders out of the ring as the crowd cheers. As Amick turns, Mobster is to his feet and hits Amick with a clothesline, then another.~
Hood: The tides have turned! It’s Mobster time!
~Mobster goes for a third clothesline, but Amick ducks, turning and nailing him with a ripcord clothesline. He raises him to his feet, hooks Mobster’s head, and hits him with a paradigm shift DDT. Amick makes the cover.~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner… AMICK DOGERON!!!!!!!!!
Jones: Well Hood, I’d like to say it was a close match, but Amick was in full control the entire time.
Hood: I thought Mobster might have a chance, but when Amick started doing Jace’s moves I knew he would win. Jace is a bonafide legend.
Jones: Yes, a legend in his own mind, though I think that’s definitely the storyline of the match. Amick Dogeron playing mind games with JPD ahead of their big match at Truth or Consequences with the Savage title on the line.
Hood: If you ask me it’s a total disgrace what Marcus Welsh did, just handing Dogeron that title shot. What has he done to earn anything other than attack a defenseless JPD?
Jones: There’s no one more deserving of this shot than Amick Dogeron. But speaking of Welsh, not only did he grant Dogeron the title match but he instituted a no physical contact clause between the two heading into the PPV. That contract signing will take place later this evening.
Hood: Great, a contract signing on a wrestling show in which both participants can’t touch each other. How original. I’m sure no shenanigans will ensue.
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”
~Backstage in a dark blue leather jacket, a #TamikaCares t-shirt, and a pair of tight ripped green jeans with her light skin showing at the knees, Cass Baumer leans against the hallway wall with her legs crossed. Still dazed from the incident with CYPH3R earlier in the night, she relaxes near a small monitor where she could watch Massacre. Lethargically, the TransAtlantic Championship contender scrolls through her smartphone with a bored expression during a lull in the action. When she hits her mentions, she scrolls back towards a comment that Dane Preston tagged her in weeks ago that she somehow managed to miss at the time. Her eyes widen at the sight, quickly reading every word to herself.~
Cass: Voicemail…? Nobody checks their voicemail anymore…
~With the statement hanging in the air, the sound of approaching footsteps startles Cass and forces her to spin on the heels of her Nike sneakers.~
Cass: Holy—!
Dane: What gives?!? We thought you would have called us back by now. We had to make a special trip out here just to check on you…
~Baumer puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head a little, a not-too-genuine grin on her face~
Cass: Look, man. I know I need to do better about checking my mentions, but is now really the best time for this? I’m a little rattled from CYPH3R superkicking me in the face earlier. I mean, I guess I had it comin’ after I tried to swipe his title, but still! If all you wanted was for me to call you, then—
~She smiles wide, as if there was a lightbulb that just lit up above her head. Then she thinks for a moment, a cheeky smirk crossing her features. Checking her contact list, she pokes the green phone icon next to Dane’s name and puts it up to her ear. Dane raises an eyebrow as he reaches into his pocket and produces his phone. Showing Cass the phone, his screen displays an incoming call from CASSBOMBER.~
Cass: Are you gonna answer that?
~Preston does not answer that. He jabs the red button with his finger to refuse.~
Dane: Okay, you’ve got a sense of humor. Tell us something I don’t know.
Cass: Oh, like what?
Dane: Are you going to team with us for the Margarita Mixer or not?
~Baumer looks genuinely surprised by Preston’s bluntness. Then her face gets serious.~
Cass: I don’t know what he told you, but Thad sent me a Twitter DM suggesting you as a teammate for the Mix, too. I told him we’ve argued in the past, and fought a couple of times elsewhere. I wasn’t against the idea, though. I just gotta know you’re willing to put our differences aside and work together on this, y’know?
Dane: You’re not our enemy, Cass. Sure, we’ve traded words, but that’s part of the job, you know what we mean? You can count on us. Can we count on you?
~Cass nods, her expression still serious.~
Cass: You have my maximum effort.
Dane: Good, that’s real good. Because that makes you an ally of the #SummerOfDane tour! And that’s important as Hell to us…
~Baumer looks dumbfounded by this revelation judging by the look on her face, but then she adds one more comment.
Cass: Guess between me, you, and Fix somewhere in that subconscious of yours, we’re the only trio in the Mix. I like our odds.
~With that, Dane nods and walks away..~
Jones: And another MIX team! Dane Preston, making his OCW debut in this year's MIX, is teaming with Cass Baumer! Cass notched a HUGE win last week against Helena Handbasket. Another team that could be considered the favorite in this year's field!
Hood: Yea, I mean, I don't know how you could pick a team this year. There are no favorites...just a bunch of talented people teaming up. A coin flip every match.
Jones: It is, without a doubt, the most competitive MIX field of ALL TIME. Don't miss THE MIX...the action begins in August!
~We come back from the commercial break and in the ring we find Crash seated in the extra expensive and comfy office chair, feet propped up on his desk. Lou Pohl stands behind him with Bash in an ergo carrier. The crowd goes nuts as Crash brings the mic to his mouth, stopping to smile and take in the fans~
Crash: WELCOME! To another spectacular, orgasmic, can't miss episode of THE CRASH REPORT!
~The crowd hollers in excitement, stomping and clapping, somewhere we see a small child get trampled by a man who seems possessed by PCP~
Crash: Yeah, tonight is a hell of a night. Less than a week away from Truth or Consequences, held in none other than… Uhh,...
~Lou steps forward and whispers something into Crash’s ear~
Crash: Right, held in none other than Truth or Consequences, New…
~Lou again steps forward and whispers into Crash’s ear~
Crash: Really? New Mexico? They made a second one?
~Lou, for a third time, whispers into his client's ear~
Crash: Alright, whatever. The point’s simple. It’s only 6 more days before I once again step in the ring against Tamika Strader. 6 more days before you get a repeat of one of the greatest matches of 2022.
~The crowd chants for the two competitors, yet hearing Tamika’s name cause’s Lou’s face to twist into displeasure. Crash smiles, knowing he has this crowd eating out the palm of his hands~
Crash: Yeah, you all already know. Yet, please understand this, her reign is reaching its end. Today starts the cessation of Tamika’s Craze title reign. And on July 31st, I will be named your new Craze champion, and the era of The Crooked Man will begin.
~Lou nods his head, as Bash coos and giggles to himself~
Crash: Three years ago. North Korea. I could taste it, but I came up short. Last month. Intercourse. I was the closest I’ve ever been, yet a roll up saves her. This weekend. Truth or Consequences. Crash Rodriguez will claim what is rightfully his. It’s my time, and you all should be very, very excited.
~Crash rises from his seat onto his feet and points towards the big screen~
Crash: If you people could please, turn your attention to the big ass television above the stage now. That one, up there.
~The crowd looks at the screen as the video comes through, showing our current Craze champion singing in the shower. Lou tries to stifle his laughter, as Crash slaps his knee~
Tamika Singing: I’m a natural ma’am, doing what I can, my temperature is running highhhhhhh!!!!
~As the high note rings out the men in the ring absolutely lose it, bending over holding their stomachs as they laugh raucously. Crash manages to calm down, as the crowd watches on, now annoyed by the childlike antics~
Crash: I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I think the guys in the truck must’ve gotten the tapes mixed up. Alright, guys, let’s be serious. Roll the footage.
~Again video fills the screen, and people watch this time with caution, however it’s replaced with genuine excitement as Limp Bizkit’s “My Way” plays through the PA. The video shows black and white footage of Crash and Tamika. Footage such as the three way beatdown Lou, Lonnie and Crash gave Tamika, before transitioning to the scene of Lou being taken away by ambulance, after his vicious assault, while Crash looks on worried and filled with pain. We see Tamika slip out of the Crash Landing, and roll up Crash for her previous title defense. Next quick cut shows us the aftermath, as Crash’s face ripe with devastation after the bell.We see Tamika smile as she says #TamikaCares, only to quickly cut to the two staring at each other while being restrained backstage by OCW Staff as the video ends~
Crash: So you see, this is beyond just the belt. I’ll admit, my first go was purely for that gold, but now… Now it’s personal. Tamika, you’ve beaten down the only man to treat me like a son. You shattered my one desire, to be Craze championship, by sneaking in a roll up. Then you turn around and treat me like some bum ass charity case. You’ve made this deeper than gold Tamika. I want red. I want your blood to be spilled all over the ring this Sunday. Now, I can see what you’re thinking. ‘Oh, nice both Ball Ball and CJ will be at ringside.’ But don’t you worry. I’ve told them, I want this clean. I want to end your fucking career, with my own bare hands. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, TAMIKA?! YOU WILL MAKE A FOOL OF ME NO MORE!
~He’s Back by Alice Cooper starts to play as MACHETE PHIL walks out to a large pop from the crowd!~
Hood: What’s he doing out here?
Jones: Probably a conflict of interest for The Knife Man.
~He is carrying a medium sized brown box in his arms. He gets in the ring, no help from Crash, Lou or that lazy little freeloader in Bash~
Lou: What are you doing here, man? No one likes you.
Crash: Lou, Calm down. What’s up Philly?
Machete Phil: Ms Strader wanted to be here but she is filming her Hollywood Promo. Apparently the actor playing her is being difficult.
Crash: … What's in the box Philliam?
~He places it down in front of Crash and Lou~
Machete Phil: No idea, just that it was a present and something about #TamikaCares. Eddy’s handwriting isn’t the greatest.
~Philliam leaves the ring and Crash looks to Lou and points to the box. Lou obviously objects but gives up, handing off Bash as he moves closer to the box from the Craze Champion~
Jones: What do you think is in it?
Hood: Maybe a yeast infection.
~Lou pulls out a classy letter opener and slowly cuts the length of the tape, very slowly~
Crash: Come on man, just open it!
~Lou shakes his head and finishes cutting it open~
Lou: Here goes nothing!
BANG
~He instantly regrets opening the box as he is first covered in squash/baby carrot baby food followed by baby powder to finish off an awful mess~
Jones: Haha!
Hood: Wasn’t expecting that.
~The OCWtron lights up with written words as Tamika Strader’s voice fills the arena~
Tamika Strader: Just remember, on July 31st, you’ll know….
#TamikaCares
~Crash stands there laughing, while Lou looks at him humiliated. A sense of guilt fills within Crash, as Lou picks up a mic~
Louis Pohl: YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!
~Crash looks at Lou and tries to calm him down, while Bash continues to coo and laugh~
Louis Pohl: No seriously? First she puts me in the hospital, now she embarrasses me and you want to laugh.
~Crash pulls the mic out of Lou’s hands~
Crash: Let her play her games, Lou. Afterall, her reign ends Sudnay. Her career ends at Truth or Consequences.
~Lou wipes the mess from his face, as Crash helps guide him out of the ring, only for Lou to step in a pile of food and baby powder, sending him onto his ass. He starts ranting and raving, as Crash struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts him up to his feet, and continues their trek out the ring and up the ramp. We cut outside to the parking lot to find Ehud. He’s marching. Marching with a purpose. He’s drawing closer and closer to the arena. We cut to commercial~
~The Tron lights up and Easton Alexander is walking backstage. In his hands he carries two bats. One aluminum, the other wooden and wrapped in barbed wire.
JONES: Business is pickin’ up here in Oklahoma City!
HOOD: Somebody needs to stop that man before someone gets hurt!
JONES: Earlier he said he was on the hunt for Cyrus and Thaddeus. I wonder if he's found his office.
~Backstage, Easton slows to a stop and looks at a closed door. On the door is a placard that reads ‘Majority Owner Thaddeus Duke.’
JONES: Well shit.
HOOD: Don’t be in there Thad!
~Easton bursts through the door but much to his chagrin, it’s currently vacant with the owner nowhere in sight. Advancing inside the office, Easton rests both bats against the desk as he takes a seat in the big chair behind it. For a moment, he starts opening drawers and rifling through the objects inside. Finding nothing useful, he stands back to his feet and grabs his ball bats before starting for the door. Two steps from the door he stops and turns back.
HOOD: What are you thinking, Easton!?
JONES: Don’t do anything stupid!
~Stepping toward the desk again, Easton sets the aluminum bat down on top before lifting a picture frame. In this picture are Thad, his wife Sahara, their son Frankie, and his twins Caty and Talon.
EASTON: What a fucking joke.
HOOD: Careful kid.
JONES: You never mess with another man's family, even if it’s just a picture.
EASTON: Be a shame if something happened to it.
~Setting the photograph back on the desk, Easton quickly uses the barbed wire laced baseball bat and smashes the Duke family picture.
HOOD: What’d you do!?
JONES: Oh no…
~Behind Easton, the door closes gently. Alexander stares straight ahead of himself for a few seconds before turning around. Leaning against the door is the 6’9” 300 pound gorilla known as Cyrus Braddock.
EASTON: You here to “beat me up”?
~He asks of Cy, using his hands for theatrics. Cyrus though, says nothing. Easton keeps the ball bats at fingertips length. Just in case.
EASTON: I still owe you for two weeks ago.
~Again, Cyrus says nothing. But he does nod acknowledgment.
EASTON: Not tonight though. I'm gonna let you wait for me, 2 weeks till I get you back for those powerbombs.
CYRUS: Maybe you will.
~The hired gun of the majority owner finally spies the busted up picture of the Duke Family.
CYRUS: Boss ain’t gonna like that.
~Easton looks at the remains of the picture and back at Cyrus Braddock.
EASTON: The fuck do you care? What’s your deal anyway?
~Again, Cyrus doesn’t answer.
EASTON: You could snap him in half and instead you just do whatever he tells you to do. I think i have an idea why but i wanna hear it from you… so spill it
~Cyrus leans off of the door.
CYRUS: Loyalty.
EASTON: Bullshit, money’s the reason, loyalty doesn't exist in this business, even i know that.
CYRUS: It’s rare, Mr. Alexander. But it does exist. Boss is a lot of things, I’ll give ya that. But he’s never been disingenuous.
EASTON: That son of a bitch has been targeting me since the moment he walked in the door!
~Cyrus nods his head in agreement then opens the door to the office.
CYRUS: There’s no Lion’s Justice on tap for you for the night Mr. Alexander. I strongly suggest you take your leave now.
~Easton hesitates as he grabs both of his ball bats, then starts for the door. Just as he passes by Cyrus, the big man lays one of his gorilla mits on Easton’s shoulder.
CYRUS: When you leave here tonight, think about why.
~Easton looks up at Cyrus.
CYRUS: Boss is young, but he was born into this business. He’s got a sound mind for it. Why do you think he’s taken an interest in you?
~Cyrus removes his hand from Easton and steps aside.
EASTON: 2 weeks Cyrus… that's all the time you got.
~Easton Alexander makes his exit from the office of Thaddeus Duke.
JONES: I expected violence!
HOOD: What you just saw was an inside look! Cyrus Braddock is inside the proverbial inner circle! There is a reason Thaddeus Duke has taken an interest in Easton Alexander!
JONES: You can figuratively stroke the man all you want, Hood! Fact is, Thad has been a thorn in Easton’s side since the day he arrived and at some point these two are gonna have to settle it once and for all.
~The camera follows Cyrus out of the office and down the hall. Around a corner is Thaddeus Duke. The two appear to be heading for the arena.
Cyrus Braddock (0-0) vs. Too Much Zeus (0-2)
JONES: OCW fans, two weeks ago on this program, Cyrus Braddock made his debut in shocking fashion as he brutally attacked Easton Alexander…
HOOD: What brutal attack!?
JONES: We don’t need commentary from the Duke Sycophant…
HOOD: Jones, Easton ate a lariat and a trio of powerbombs. It wasn’t that brutal and right now, I’m calling into question your journalistic integrity with the way you over sensationalize the beef between Thaddeus and Easton.
JONES: What would you call it!?
~With Too Much Zeus already in the ring, before Hood can answer, the OCWTron lights up to a scene backstage with the aforementioned Cyrus Braddock and Thaddeus Duke.
~Brddock’s tron begins to play as the big man is backstage getting hyped up by the majority owner. Without warning, Thad slaps the big man hard across the face leaving a red welt. Water and/or babyoil flies from the big mans head and curly blond hair.
JONES: What the hell was that for!?
~Again, Thad slaps the big man across his face and Cy yells out as he shoves Thad aside and starts to head toward the arena.
~After the intro for Animal Magnetism, Cyrus Braddock steps out from behind the curtain. Stopping on stage, he surveys the crowd a moment before throwing up his arms and yelling something unintelligible. On the way down the aisle, his stride matches the drum beat as he looks over the nearby members of the OCW faithful. Every now and then, he'll exchange a fist bump with a cheering pro-Thad fan (if there are any.)
BELVEDERE: Their opponent. From Memphis, Tennessee weighing 3 hundred 5 pounds. CYRUUUUUSSSS BRAAAADDOOOOOCK!
~Once at ringside, he wastes very little time in climbing the steps to the apron before stepping over the top rope and into the ring. Once in the ring, he faces the hard camera and waves his right hand in a "T" pattern, exciting some heavy boos from the crowd.
JONES: He is one big son of a bitch. Not Big Bifford big, but biiiig.
HOOD: There’s a reason Thaddeus Duke brought him into his employ! There’s a reason Jones, that Thaddeus Duke put Cyrus Braddock on the OCW roster!
~The bell rings and in their corner, TMZ argues amongst themselves which is gonna start the match against bug Cyrus Braddock. Cy stands in his corner bent over with his hands on his knees staring across at his pint sized opponents. Cy approaches the center of the ring as the two Zeus’s try to shove each other toward Cyrus. Amped up and ready for a fight, Cyrus Braddock grabs one Zeus by the back of the neck. The other Zeus stares at him a little wide eyed. Cy powers one Zeus over the top and out of the ring.
HOOD: Thanks for coming, Zeus!
JONES: He’s showing his awesome strength right there and Too Much Zeus doesn’t seem to know how to approach taking on Cyrus Braddock!
HOOD: Would you?
JONES: No.
~The remaining Zeus stands in the corner like a deer in the headlights. Cyrus steps toward him and Zeus begs him off while dancing around in the corner. Cyrus doesn’t seem to care about Zeus’s begging though and steps forward more before palming his entire face and shoving him backward against the corner, arching his neck back against the top turnbuckle. Cy then delivers a loud and hard overhand chop to the chest of Zeus before sending him to the far side corner of the ring. Zeus flies into the opposite corner so hard that he flips up the turnbuckle and back down on his feet. His momentum carries him out of the corner where Cyrus lifts him up and power slams him to the mat.
JONES: Cy with a cover!
1
2
HOOD: Braddock isn’t done playing yet!
~Cy lifts Zeus’s shoulder off the mat, breaking up his own pin attempt. Braddock gets to his feet and grabs himself a handful of Zeus’s hair pulling him to his feet. Cy kicks Zeus in the midsection, doubling him over. Braddock places his head between his thighs.
HOOD: Oh it’s time for some Justice, Jones!
~Before Braddock can lift him up, other Zeus comes flying off the top rope in an effort to save other other Zeus. Cy though, catches him by his throat with his free hand. Cy lifts him up and plants him on the mat with a hard choke slam. Cyrus Braddock than uses his hand to make a ‘T’ formation in the air before lifting and planting Zeus beside his partner with a power bomb.
HOOD: The Lion’s Justice!
~Cyrus hits his knees and places a hand on either chest.
1!
2!
3!
BELVEDERE: Here is your winner….CYRUS BRADDOCK!!!!!
JONES: Cyrus Braddock wins tonight in convincing fashion!
HOOD: I hope Easton was paying attention!
~As Cyrus Braddock gets to his feet, a trio of enhancement talents storm ringside.
JONES: Vortex! Dirtbag Kid! And Mad Max!
HOOD: What the hell are they doing!?
~Vortex and Mad Max scale the turnbuckles and leap off toward Cy as The Dirtbag Kid makes his way around the far side of the ring. Cyrus Braddock catches both by the throat as they land while DBK scales the turnbuckles behind him. With Vortex and Max in his clutches he adjusts position to face Dirtbag Kid. The heat seeking vanilla midget leaps off the top rope and eats a huge big boot to the face for his trouble before sending Vortex and Max to the mat with a double choke slam.
~Choke slammed Zeus staggers back to his feet and Cyrus grabs a handful of his hair before placing his head between his thighs.
HOOD: T symbol!
JONES: Jesus!
HOOD: The Lion’s Justice with authority!
~Cyrus though isn’t done. He delivers Justice to the Dirtbag Kid, Mad Max and Vortex in quick succession.
HOOD: It’s Justice for everyone here tonight in Oklahoma City!
~Cyrus stands in the center of the ring, looking over the carnage and destruction he’s delivered to OCW’s enhancement talents, no doubt on the directive of Thaddeus Duke.
JONES: Bodies… bodies everywhere!
~Animal Magnetism plays as Cyrus finally vacates the ring and starts for the back.
~ The camera is backstage and you see Killa Kali walking around the hallways. He sees the door for catering and is about to enter it when he hears something… ~
Hey Killa…
~Killa turns around and you see nothing but a set of hands and the TransAtlantic Championship hitting Kali right in the face.~
I wanted you to get up close and personal to a title. We all know you don’t have it in you to win at Truth or Consequences. Bifford is gonna piledrive you and then sit on your chest. You can’t beat that fat FOOK!
~ As Killa's back is against the door to catering CJ knees him in the face for good measure. A sadistic smile comes across the face of The Distinguished and you hear a loud thump. Killa hits the back of his head on the door frame. CJ bends down and shoves the TransAtlantic Championship into the face of Killa. ~
You will be thanking me later. Your whole life you have been a failure. You are better off in jail. You don’t have a place here. This is not the same OCW that you loved so much. Things are changing. They want us to be Kid Friendly. Well to that I say … FOOK them. OCW is changing but we will not be cuckold by the Dukes of Professional Wrestling. They do not own us. FOOK DA PWA!!! We do not want the exposure. We make our own rules.
~CJ then drives one of the sideplates right about the left eye of Killa. Blood begins to start flowing as CJ takes his thumb and applies more pressure to the open wound so more flows. CJ smacks Kali in the face as he pushes himself up off of the floor and walks away from the camera. CJ throws the OCW TransAtlantic Championship over his shoulder.~
Oh shit … Cass is gonna have to polish this again as I got some blood on it.
~ CJ exits through a door as Killa realizes he has been blessed with a crimson mask. Kali’s eyes tell a story that this war is from for over and that he will get retribution on O’Donnell as soon as he can.~
Jones: And CJ gets his revenge...this violent quid pro quo continues. If Kali can knock off Biff at Truth or Consequences, will CJ get a shot? If CJ defeats CYPH3R...will Kali get a shot? Where does it all lead? Sunday should bring some clarity.
~The camera cuts to the parking area, where Outcast stands smoking a Newport. He takes a long, smooth drag and slowly exhales. As he watches the smoke dissipate into the nighttime sky he gets the feeling of being watched. ~
Outcast: Hello Darlin.
~ Outcast turns to see Veronica. Fortunately for him, she doesn’t look near as mad as she had when he last saw her and noticed she had her neck brace on, as this is OCW and someone would surely DDT her. ~
Veronica: Christian. Listen, I am sorry I reacted the way I did but, you up vanished months ago in the middle of the night. Just… be honest. I’m not a fragile little Chinadoll, whatever it is I will believe you. You believed me.
Outcast: My drive was good, thank you.
~ She gives him a look of “fuck off” but can’t help but smile. She missed him. ~
Veronica: I’m sorry. Did you get away from whatever it was you were running from?
~ Outcast drops his cigarette and snuffs it out under the toe of his boot. ~
Outcast: For the time being, but those Suit Men are like herpes, never really gone, and pop up at the most inconvenient times. They've been chasing me for what feels like years, but as you know, it could have been a month or too here.
Veronica: Do you mean?...
~ Before she finishes the question Outcast steps forward and places his hands on her shoulders.
Outcast: It may have been only a few months here, but in the portal it felt like a lifetime. I thought I was trapped there forever, and some of the things I saw there…. Some of the things I did.
~ He sighs and shakes his head, dropping his hands from her shoulders and turning away from her. ~
Veronica: You fell in that stupid Portal Potty… why is that thing even still fucking here….
~ Her hand gently finds its way to his right cheek, her thumb tracing the childhood scar. ~
Veronica: I should’ve realized at Massacre but a 600 lbs man sitting on your head and neck can confuse things… if a few weeks in for me and Victoria was four to six months then a few months… years…
~ A tear starts to form as she moves in close, rubbing his cheek with hers. ~
Veronica: I am sorry… how did you even end up in it?
~ His hand finds hers. He pulls it from his face, but holds it steady. ~
Outcast: Like most problems in my adult life, a combination in drugs and alcohol. I was drowning my sorrows and anger. Pissed off that Alice Knight was facing Biff and that Brim had already been given a championship match ahead of my rematch. So, I did what I always do, but with the volume turned up.
I'm staggering around backstage and had to take a piss. I saw the portal potty and staggered right in, and then… well you know what comes next.
~Outcast stops talking and releases her hand. He drops his head before shaking it side to side slowly. ~
Outcast: The thing is, I wasn't in there too long before I found a way out, but as I was about to make it back I was stopped by…
~A clanging of something falling cute his retailing of events off. Outcast springs into a fighting stance and begins looking around for an attacker, rather it be a Suit Man or an OCW alumni. Not seeing anyone, Outcast grabs Veronica's hand and heads back into the arena as the scene fades. ~
BAM G (4-1) vs. The Influence (0-0)
~As always, the vibe in the arena changes as the fans know, without any sort of announcement, that the mood within that ring is about to change. The fun and frivolity we all felt in watching signed talent pounce and trounce the NPCs has ended. Now, we’ve reached the competitive portion of our programming. So, let’s stop wasting time and let’s see some hearts get broken. Belvedere is in the ring, ready to do his schtick~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~Cue that 1980’s guitar! The opening notes of “The Boys and the Girls Are Doing it” by Vital Signs begin to play over the arena. There are some lines in there, but let’s get to the chorus of this amazing track off the Bill and Ted Soundtrack.
# Yeah, we all know the boys and the girls are doing it! #
~And out from the back step out the Influencers of social media platforms across the world to an enormous negative reaction from the crowd. Christopher Wrigley is out first from the back, with a huge smile on his face and holding his arms out wide for all the world to see his navy blue jacket and red tie. He is shortly followed out by Delia Black, the kick happy murder princess, and her partner in crime Claudia Frost. The trio soak in the boos from the crowd as they slowly walk down the ramp~
Belvedere: At a total combined weight of 265lbs...being accompanied to the ring by Christopher J. Wrigley...Claudia Frost and Delia Black...please welcome, The Influence!!!
~Frost and Black head up the steps and enter the ring with Wrigley remaining on the outside..he turns toward the fans at ringside and throws his arms in the air, trying to get them to recognize the talent that has appeared before them. But these fans are savvy, they know what these girls are all about, having witch craft voodoo meetings in break rooms. So, they boo. And they boo some more~
Jones: And there they are, The Influence!
Hood: Man, poor Claudia. Looks like she didn’t drop those extra pounds she was hoping to shed before tonight’s match.
Jones: That’s kinda rude to point out.
Hood: Hey, she’s the one who brought it up! While wearing whitey tighties on her head and playing with a Ouija Board.
Jones: That is a thing that happened.
Hood: Wait a minute...you aren’t free balling are ya? You aren’t missing some of your preferred style of underwear, are you?!
Jones: Of course not!
~Frost asks Black if they’re booing her waistline. Black tells her to let it go. The back and forth lasts for a few seconds until WHERE THE HOOD AT by DMX hits and the fans go wild! Bob Grenier bursts through the curtain with his beloved JAM G following behind. JAM G looks fine, despite suffering a tough loss last week. It seems as though the experience has only enhanced his confidence. The duo march toward the ring, focused on the task at hand~
Belvedere: And, their opponents...former Outsider’s legend JAM G and OCW Hall of Famer Bob Grenier...they are...BAM G!!!!
~Bob and JAM G reach ringside. They pause...Delia and Claudia look down at them...and then Bob and JAM rush the ring! Belvedere exits. Bob and JAM pop to their feet...Delia and Claudia try to fight them off, but the attack takes them by surprise...Bob and JAM hammer Claudia and Delia with fists. JAM punching Delia and Bob punching the bigger (ha) Claudia. Delia hits the mat first. Claudia second. Bob and JAM stomp on them...Wrigley is on the outside throwing his arms in the air and yelling at Scruff. Delia and Claudia roll out of the ring. Wrigley rushes over, putting his arms around them as they lick their wounds...he continues to berate Scruff as the OCW faithful go wild~
Jones: Bob and JAM G not wasting any time in welcoming The Influence to OCW!
Hood: Man, I’m with Wrigley here...what the fuck? Are we back to the PRE THAD days of ANYTHING goes?
Jones: The bell hasn’t sounded yet, Hood.
Hood: So I guess common sense begins and ends with a ring bell? Classic OCW, baby.
~Scruff is tired of hearing Wrigley in his ear. So he walks up to Bob and does his best to get him and JAM G back. Bob, being a vet and having gone through some WARS with Scruff, acquiesces and pulls JAM G back into their corner. Delia and Claudia slide back into the ring, sensing an opportunity for safe entry. Wrigley is like ‘finally’. Claudia takes the apron while Delia remains in the ring. Bob slaps JAM G on the chest and tells him to ‘go to work’~
Jones: And we’ve got Delia and JAM G starting things off. Looks like Bob wants JAM G to start things off to shake off the disappointment from last week before his big match next week at Truth or Consequences.
Hood: I mean, that makes sense. But it also means JAM FUCKING G is starting off this very important match.
Jones: True. This is an important match. Winner of this is going to be right in the thick of a tag team shot.
Hood: Well, I believe The Machine Cult and the pairing of JPD and Ray-Ray might have something to say about that.
~JAM G coils up, prepared to lock arms with Delia. Probably the most action he’s gotten with a woman in, ever. Delia looks ready to lock up but, instead, she throws a swift kick into JAM G’s leg...right at the knee!! JAM stumbles to the side, reaching for his knee. Delia throws a swift kick into JAM’s back, straightening him up. She takes off...leaps onto the middle rope, springboards off, spins around and blasts JAM in the chest with a roundhouse kick!!! JAM G drops to the mat, holding his chest in pain, gasping for air~
Jones: Vicious kicks from Delia. Kicks that JAM G obviously didn’t see coming.
Hood: Probably because he’s wearing that stupid metal mask.
Jones: Or because he didn’t scout the opponent properly...which, to his credit, is tough when you’re facing a debut.
Hood: Nah, it’s the mask.
~Delia reaches out and she tags Claudia into the match. Delia then hits the ropes. JAM G is seated up, holding his chest. Delia throws a penalty kick into his already traumatized chest, but JAM G catches her leg!!! JAM gets to his feet! The fans pop. He’s got Delia hopping on one leg...looks like he might drop her with a Dragon Screw Leg Whip...however, Claudia hooks him from behind and tosses him over with a German Suplex!! She bridges into a pin! Delia hits the mat and slides out of the ring! Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Jones: Wow! Close...JAM G has got to be more aware of what’s going on.
Hood: No shit. Dude need eyes in the back of his head...especially considering what went down last night.
Jones: I’ve been instructed not to speak about that on air.
Hood: Gotcha.
~Claudia doesn’t let the nearfall deter her. She swings back to her feet...JAM G struggles to his. Sloppily, he reaches out for Claudia...but she grabs him, showing far more composure and technique than we’ve ever seen from JAM...she tosses him over with an Exploder Suplex!! JAM G hits hard but manages to scurry to his feet only to get tossed over with another Exploder Suplex!!! Claudia pops back to her feet, eager to hit another one when she catches a glimpse of herself on the OCWTron...as they say, the camera adds a few pounds, so she hesitates, not impressed with how she looks. JAM G takes this opportunity to dive into his corner, tagging Bob into the match~
Jones: Uh oh.
Hood: Vanity, man. It’ll get you every, single, time.
Jones: And here comes the Hall of Famer. The odds in this one have taken a drastic shift.
~Grenier enters the match. Claudia doesn’t back off...she heads toward him, looking to toss him over with an Exploder Suplex but Grenier punches her in the ribs! She stumbles back, holding her ribs in pain. Bob shows a quick burst of speed, dropping her to the mat with a big lariat! Claudia hits the mat hard. Bob then slams his foot in her throat, choking her out while staring at Delia. Wrigley is heard yelling at Scruff from the outside. Scruff rushes in...he counts to five and then threatens Bob. Bob takes his time before removing his boot from Claudia’s throat. She rolls over onto all fours, coughing. Grenier soccer kicks her into the ribs, flipping her over, onto her back~
Jones: Bob Grenier is a brutal man when he’s focused, Hood.
Hood: And you know he’s on high alert these days. The enemies are going to be storming the gates at any moment.
Jones: Again. Not on air, Hood. Not tonight.
~Bob bends over, gripping Claudia by the throat with both hands. Again, Wrigley yells at Scruff, appalled at what just is sorta accepted as ‘okay’ inside an OCW ring. Bob gets Claudia to her feet and he tosses her into a corner. Her body slams into the buckles, recklessly. Grenier charges forward with a huge splash, squashing Claudia. He takes a few steps out...Claudia stumbles toward him...he dips down, under Claudia and raises up, tossing her over with a backbody drop!! She lands HARD! The entire ring shakes from impact. Bob then turns to tag JAM G back into the match...but he catches JAM G scanning the crowd. “HEY!” Bob yells, slapping his hands together. JAM G turns around...Bob signals for him to pay attention...he extends his hand and JAM tags in. Bob takes the apron~
Jones: Get your head in the game, JAM!
Hood: Dude’s on high alert. I mean he’s already been struggling...trying to hang with all these badasses. Now that Bob’s poked a giant fuckin grizzly bear...you know JAM’s freaking out.
Jones: Again! Stop!
~Claudia sits up, but before she can get to her feet, JAM drives his knee into her back while locking his hands under her chin and pulling back. Grenier claps and yells, “PULL BACK! BREAK HER NECK!” Wrigley looks at Bob with a ‘you serious?’ expression. Scruff asks Claudia if she wants to give it up...she refuses. Delia steps on the middle rope, leaning forward, holding onto that tag rope, trying to give Claudia encouragement. But, Claudia is stuck. JAM rears back, doing his best to injure his opponent...and then he spots a tall man in a black cowboy hat out in the crowd. He pauses and he leans forward...is that? Could that be? Is that CLAY BYRD? JAM G’s grip weakens...Claudia feels the lapse and she breaks free! She pops to her feet, spins around and tosses JAM over wth an Exploder Suplex!!! Bob throws his arms in the air, frustrated. JAM hits the mat hard, reaching for his back. He looks through the ropes for the man in the cowboy hat. The black cowboy hat is lifted revealing...just a fan. JAM lowers his head, his weak mentality is costing him~
Jones: JAM G can’t remain focused. He’s too scared.
Hood: Fuckin hell. You can’t win a match like this if you aren’t completely focused. Bob, might be time for a new partner, bro.
Jones: Claudia with another Exploder Suplex...if she can tag Delia back into this, the momentum will shift, once again.
~JAM shakes off his momentary state of melancholy, realizing he’s still in the fight. He turns, on all fours, going after Claudia...but Claudia makes the tag!! JAM hears the tag and realizes he’s in trouble. He gets to his feet, in a rush. Delia steps through the ropes. Claudia is on all fours...Delia steps on her back and jumps up with a Step Up Enziguri to the side of JAM G’s neck!!! She avoids his metal mask! JAM falls to one knee, holding his neck. Claudia ducks out of the ring, onto the apron, catching her breath. Delia doesn’t give JAM a chance to catch his breath...she blasts him with a SUPERKICK right into the chest, sending him back to the mat. Wrigley cheers. Grenier enters the ring. Scruff tries to stop him~
Jones: Get him out of the ring!
Hood: I think he left his iPhone in there, Jones. He’s just retrieving it.
Jones: He did not!
~Delia doesn’t flinch, talking shit at Grenier. The Hall of Famer, feeling insulted, lunges for her, but Scruff gets in between the two...he leans his shoulder into Grenier and tries to push him back into his team’s corner. Wrigley heads over to Claudia...he gets her attention and points in the ring...they’ve got an opportunity. She sees Scruff with his back turned, dealing with a furious Grenier. Claudia crawls through the ropes. Delia pulls JAM up and knees him right in the gut. Claudia gets underneath JAM and hoists him up, over her shoulder...she gets his head pointed toward the ground...Delia hits the ropes. Bob is freaking out, trying to get past Scruff, but Scruff has hold of the ropes with both arms, keeping Bob trapped in the corner. Delia bounces off the ropes and she hits JAM right under his head, in the back of his neck, avoiding his metal mask, with a knee!! Claudia then drops JAM with an Emerald Flowsion!! JAM’s limp...out, on the mat. Claudia rolls out of the ring. Wrigley runs around the ring, urging Scruff to turn around. Scruff does and he sees Delia pinning JAM. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
~Bob goes to break it up, but Wrigley reaches in, holding his leg~
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners...THE INFLUENCE!!!!!
Jones: Such a Bad Influence!!! They hit it! It’s over!
Hood: Shit. Bob’s pissed.
Jones: Yea, Influence might wanna get out of that ring.
~As if Jones has a direct line to Claudia and Delia...they escape the ring. Wrigley lets Bob’s foot go and grabs his clients. Bob turns around, glaring down at them. He wants to leave, but it’s too late, they’re already halfway up the ramp, celebrating their win. The fans boo. Bob turns around, glaring at Scruff...Scruff doesn’t know what to say so he just leaves. Bob walks over to JAM...he drops to one knee, checking on his partner...a partner who has seen more valleys than peaks lately. He shakes his head, it’s clear Bob is frustrated~
Jones: And, once again, Bob is found putting over the younger talent.
Hood: It’s got to weigh on the man, Jones. You know it does.
Jones: Of course. He’s a legend and legends are proud.
~Suddenly the lights go out in the arena~
Hood: What the hell is going on?
Jones: Well the lights have gone out, and there seems to be a commotion in the crowd.
~A giant graphic appears on the OCWtron.~
# Yeah, we all know the boys and the girls are doing it! #
~Before any music can hit, the lights come back on and Bob Grenier and JAM are surrounded by four men. The man directly in Grenier’s face wears a long black duster and a black cowboy hat. He’s carrying a rope in his hands.~
Hood: THEY ARE GONNA LYNCH HIM!
Jones: NO THEY AREN’T GONNA LYNCH HIM! BUT CLAY BYRD AND THE HIGHWAYMEN FROM HIGH OCTANE ARE STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF AN OCW RING! BOB GRENIER, JAM, WARRICK HILL AND THE WIZARD PUT A BEATING ON BYRD LAST NIGHT ON CHAOS AND HE MIGHT BE HERE FOR REVENGE!
~The six-foot two Grenier is dwarfed by the Monster from Plainview. HOW Hall of Famer Steve Solex stands behind Grenier, while Joe Bergman and Steve Harrison stand to the left and right of the men. The box slowly closes, and then the violence starts.~
Jones: Byrd with a right hand! HERE WE GOOOOOO!
~Chaos ensues, Grenier and Byrd throwing lefts and rights, Bergman kicks JAM’s knee out from under him and ‘The Miracle Man’ Steve Harrison is on him. Grenier struggles against the enormous shots from The Behemoth, but Steve Solex drives a forearm into the back of his skull sending Grenier to the floor. Byrd finally grabs the cowbell and levels Grenier across the face with it, busting him open. The two men start driving boots into Grenier while Harrison and Bergman do the same to JAM. Clay starts directing traffic, and ‘The Miracle Man’ slides out of the ring. He rips the steel steps from their mooring and tosses them over the top rope into the ring.~
Jones: Oh no… what the hell…
Hood: You all thought Jace Parker Davidson was bad. Clay Byrd is a terrifying fucking human being.
~The Behemoth lifts Bob Grenier up into the crucifix position. The Number 1 MercDad, the Alpha Male of High Octane, makes sure the steel steps are in place. High Octane Hall of Famer Joe Bergman stomps to the front of the ring to look up the ramp to make sure no one is coming for a save. Clay Byrd smirks, as he launches Grenier, letting him crash from almost seven feet into the air, with his back smashing across the steel steps.~
Hood: Holy shit. I think Bob Grenier is dead.
Jones: I don’t think he’s dead Hood, but he’s not going to feel right for a few weeks.
~The Highwaymen get out of the ring, JAM laying in a pile, Bob Grenier absolutely destroyed… Byrd and The Highwaymen make their way over to the announce table. Hood and Jones immediately stand up with their hands raised, as Byrd rips Jones’ headset off. He holds the rope up, and the HOTv Championship up in the air as he begins ranting.~
Clay Byrd: YA WANTED A FUCKIN’ FIGHT BOB? YA WANTED TA JUMP A MOTHERFUCKER!? YA WANNA WORK WITH HIM!? That’s all well and good… but I’ll see yer ass at Dead Or Alive.
~Byrd is seething as Solex and Harrison talk trash to the fans and Bergman stands stoically with his arms crossed. Byrd holds the HOTv title up at the camera~
Clay Byrd: And any of ya other fucks, ya want this?! Try ta fuckin’ take it.
~Byrd slams the headset down and the four men walk off. We cut to the backstage area to find Welsh staring at the small screen in his downsized office. He’s chewing on his nails, shaking his head. He sees The Highwaymen of HOW leave without so much as ‘hey, what the hell?’ from any roster member or OCW security. Welsh kicks the wall~
Marcus Welsh: CAPTAIN!
~Cap Slock ducks in~
Cap Slock: YESSIR?
~Welsh points at the screen as replays of the attack are shown~
Marcus Welsh: What the hell? Where was security?
~Cap Slock does the side eye for a moment before giving an answer he’s pretty sure Welsh won’t like~
Cap Slock: MR. DUKE SENT ORDERS THAT SECURITY WAS NOT TO GET INVOLVED.
Marcus Welsh: What? Why?? I, ugh...just, get out.
~The good captain ducks out. Welsh snares his phone and he dials ‘Warrick’~
Marcus Welsh: Okay. Fine. I’ve got…
~Welsh pulls the envelope Ally gave him a few weeks back...there’s still about 8k in there~
Marcus Welsh: I’ve got about eight grand in cash for ya. Just make sure you show up to the PPV on Sunday, okay? We need you and your brother.
~Welsh hangs up and lowers his head, frustrated~
Jones: Marcus Welsh may have bitten off more than he can chew, Hood. He started a fight, assuming OCW and Thaddeus Duke would have his back. Turns out, he’s all alone.
Hood: Yea, well, he’s gonna have to figure out a solution cause the HOW guys aren’t playing.
Jones: Nope, they most certainly are not.
~We cut backstage to the locker room of PTSD. Various alcohol bottles and clear plastic baggies litter the floor. Several table tops have a white powder on it. We see Killa Kali drinking from a bottle of whiskey, TLS busy on his phone playing the OCW mobile card game, and She-LS leaning back in a chair, head tilted towards the ceiling. Is she sleeping or awake? Who knows. Pacing around the room is Mike Zybala. He looks annoyed as his fingers drum against his tag title secured around his waist~
Zybala: Look. We need to focus up. With constant threats to our tag team titles, and Truth or Consequences right around the corner, we can't get high and drunk all the time. Well, you guys can't get high. I don't touch the stuff. But we need to stop binge drinking and focus! We need a game plan for T.o.C. and how to take out BRIM. Also, we need to plan on how to make sure Bitch Boy and Ray never get their hands near these belts! And most importantly!! How Killa is going to win the world title! I need ideas, people! TLS! Hit me with an idea.
~Zybala waits for a few minutes but TLS doesn't look up from his phone~
Zybala: TLS?
~Nothing…~
Zybala: The Lost Stranger???
~Nada…~
Zybala: (real name redacted)!!
~Bupkus…~
Zybala: She-LS??
~Snoring is all the response Zybala gets~
Zybala: How about you, Killa? Anything?
~Kali's head remains busted, blood on his face. He's not seeking medical attention. He's not too bothered by it, just another night, another taste of blood. He spits on the floor before taking a drink of some liquid in a cup~
Zybala: Come on guys! We need to plan! We're a team! If you all chip in with some ideas, I'll do something….. (makes a disgusted face and can barely spit the word out) eee…ugh! Evil… I need a shower….
Guy in Stranger Mask: ( has a funny accent) I have an idea.
~Zybala is startled by the voice of a man. He turns to the door and seed a guy in jeans and a white and red shirt wearing a "Stranger"mask~
Zybala: sorry buddy, fans aren't allowed back here.
GISM: I was invited here by that guy. ( points to TLS)
Zybala: Okay, like I said. I'm gonna turn to the "DARKSIDE!"....
~This gets everyone's attention! She-LS wakes up. Killa throws the cup against a wall. He then walks towards Zybala, grabs his phone then throws it against the wall as well~
Kali: that's what I'm talking about motherfucker!
Zybala: Ummm… I understand the bottle throwing, but why the phone, I have so many pictures in there.
She-LS: just re- download it from the cloud.
GISM: Clouds? Oh hell yes. Fluffy and delicious.
~Kali, She-LS, and Zybala turn to TLS~
Kali/She-LS/Zybala: Who is this guy?
TLS: he's our insurance policy.
GISM: that's right. The fucking plan is we all stick together and bear this shit out of everyone else.
Kali: Sounds like a solid plan.
Zybala: where did you find this guy?
TLS: he's one of us. He's PTSD. He's classic OCW. He's a former world champion.
~The rest of the group stare down GISM, then all nod in agreement~
Zybala: Welcome to the team.
Jones: And there's another member of PTSD. Did they really say his name is...GISM?
Hood: That they did.
Jones: This group is going to give me PTSD.
Hood: Hey, strength in numbers and like nasty STD, these idiots continue to spread.
Jones: We can mock them as much as we want...three of the members of PTSD are in contention for the OCW Title...so, they must be doing something right.
Hood: Ugh
Jones: Alright fans, let's take a commercial break! More Massacre when we return!
~And back to the parking lot we go. Ehud is marching. Marching, ready for war. His final match of his career is drawing closer with each step. Each step. He’s coming. We cut to commercial~
~An eerie voice pipes through the arena PA–
it seems strange that my life should end
Hood: Oh, thank my lucky stars, it’s the first lady of OCW!
Jones: Could you suck up any harder?
Hood: I’d love to!
~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...
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. Still dressed in the same street clothes from earlier in the night, she slowly walks down the rampway toward the ring. Near the bottom of the rampway, a random fan holding a “Sahara Eats Dick” sign leans a little too far out and accidentally hits her with his sign–
~Without a moment's hesitation, she grabs the fan and yanks his pudgy ass around by his shirt, unloading a barrage of furious haymakers as fans scatter from the area.
Jones: Oh my–
Hood: Wowwww!
Jones: She’s lost her everloving mind!
~As arena security begins swarming the area, she yanks the sign from the fan and shoves him backwards. He goes toppling back into other fans who attempt to break his fall, and wind up going down in a heap with his momentum. As security subdue the first lady of OCW and yank her away from the guardrail, she rips the sign into pieces and she screams unintelligible obscenities, fighting to free herself from their grasp–
Hood: Uh oh, she’s got that sick bastard's diseased blood on her pristine wonderful face!
Jones: She busted him up badly! Look at his face! Jesus!
~Absolutely dazed and wobbling as he attempts to get to his feet, the fan stumbles and falls again, blood streaking from both his right eye and his nose as EMTs make their way through the growing security presence.
Jones: Fans, this is a… this is something we at OCW never like to see happen.
Hood: Hey, I got an idea, stay on that side of the barricade, that’s why it’s there!
Jones: She didn’t have to go that far! My goodness…
~Freeing herself from the grasp of security, she straightens her shirt and slowly backs away from the line of security standing between her and that fan with a devilish smirk on her face. EMT’s try to hold the fan steady as they tend to him. Shaking her head with a shrug, she turns and completes her walk to the ring. Rolling beneath the bottom rope, she signals rather impatiently for a microphone.
Jones: Get her a damn microphone before anything else crazy happens… Thad needs to leash his wild dog.
Hood: How DARE you speak of the first lady that way, Jones! I hope Thad fines you! No, even better, I hope she hears you!
Jones: I call it like I see it. It’s called having integrity. You should try it sometime.
~Turning toward the hard cam, she wipes blood from her face and stares at it on her fingertips for a few moments, before lifting her icy gaze back to the camera.
SAHARA: Consider yourselves on notice.
~Dropping the mic, she jumps through the middle and top ropes and makes her way toward the back, not so much as glancing at the carnage she caused.
Jones: That’s it?! That’s all she had to say? Who was that directed at? Ricky?! Cass?!
Hood: Everybody. And I don’t know if that’s all she had to say before this whole thing got derailed by that fan trying to cop a feel, but message received!
Jones: Copping a feel?! He accidently hit her with his sign! Ya know what, I’m not doing this with you, we already know you’re on the Duke payroll! But it seems whatever her husband and son said to her earlier tonight must have struck a nerve. She did not look like the same person we’ve seen the past few weeks.
Hood: She said more with one sentence than most say with a thousand words… all hail the White Widow! The first and ONLY lady of OCW!
in such a terrible place…
~As the image cuts to the backstage area we see shoes walking down the concrete path as various producers and assistants step aside looking in shock and bewilderment by the person approaching who is singing a very familiar tune acapella and in a gospel way~
Voice: You better get up out the way. Tomorrow I'll rise so let's fight today. You know I don't give a fuck what you think or say'. Cause we gonna rock this whole place anyway.
~It’s like Moses parted the Red Sea with the people getting out of the way~
Voice: Now I see that motherfuckin' writin' on the wall. When you see J3T thirty deep, he's down to brawl. Fuck all haters I see 'cause I hate that you breathe. I see you duck, you little punk, you little fucking disease.
~The singing stops as the focus comes to a door that reads….Garry “Ray-Ray” Nelson and there is a loud knock on the door and when the door opens we see Ray-Ray in his USA flared attire staring at the one and only Scott Stevens~
Garry Nelson: Who and what in the flyin’ fuck are you?
~Gary looks at the man with circular red sunglasses and a giant smile on his face~
Garry Nelson: Ain’t I seen you before? I think ya were peddlin’ soap down there on the streets of Nashville or somethin’. Er… maybe ya were in one a then videos Jace made me watch that one time.
~Garry asks with a look that he’s seen this guy somewhere, it could have been as a hobo, it also could have been as a man getting retired on pay-per-view, or it could have been a guy who really likes red sunglasses and he can’t remember who that guy is~
Scott Stevens: That is possible my good sir. I do get around. I get around. Love talking to people.
~Stevens looks around~
Scott Stevens: Even with the competition.
~Stevens chuckles abit and Garry doesn’t seem amused~
Scott Stevens: Let me introduce myself, Scott Stevens….
~Stevens extends his hand and Garry looks down and doesn't shake it causing Stevens to slowly and embarrassingly pull it back~
Garry Nelson: Listen feller, I got a big dumb goof ta knock the fuck out of later so…
~Garry slams the door shut in Stevens face, but the Texan is determined and bangs on the door again causing Garry to open it, even more perturbed than before.~
Scott Stevens: Listen I only need ten minutes.
Garry Nelson: Ya got five red shades. .
Scott Stevens: Fine.
~Stevens takes off his 97 Red spectacles and puts them into his vest~
Scott Stevens: Do you have GOD in your life Gary?
Garry Nelson: Ya, he and I talk pretty semi-frequently. Sometimes I’m prayin’ askin’ things fer my family, sometimes I’m askin’ him fer the farm. Sometimes I’m even askin’ him ta help me drive safely at incredibly high speeds.
~Gary says as he tries to shut the door but Stevens places his foot to stop it~
Scott Stevens: I’m not talking about that idiototic Judeo-Christian fictional character.
~Stevens shakes his head~
Garry Nelson: We’ll I ain’t either… I don’t know much about no Judo Christian feller but I do know about my lord and savior. The man that drives the mythical number 3: Dale Earnhardt. Raise hell! Praise Dale!
~Stevens, mouth agape, pauses for a moment, rapidly shaking his head before deciding to continue~
Scott Stevens: I’m talking about the one true GOD. The GOD of all things High Octane. The 97 Red GOD known as Lee Best.
~Stevens informs Gary as he gives him a leather bound book written Book of Best: The Lee Best Edition~
Garry Nelson: Who in the nine hells is Lee Best?
~Garry asks, confused as he takes the book and flips through it. His enormous hands making the book look small~
Scott Stevens: He’s the GOD that makes things happen. He’s the GOD that will make you feel his wrath if you cross him with a bottomline to the eye!
~Stevens' enthusiasm puts Garry in a defensive stance and Stevens takes notice~
Scott Stevens: Don’t fear Garry, if GOD wanted me to collect your eye we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
Garry Nelson: Wait yer a fuckin’ eye collector?
~Stevens ignores the question, which is probably for the best and continues on.~
Scott Stevens: Instead, GOD has chosen me to choose you to join his 97 Red army.
~Garry doesn’t look too happy with the offer~
Garry Nelson: Now listen sir, I sure do ‘ppreciate ya offerin’ me some kinda deal with the devil and all. I really do. But I already done made a few deals and that number on that paper, that ain’t enough ta get me ta shit on yer poarch, knock on yer door, and run away.
~Stevens jerks his head~
Scott Stevens: Say what.
Garry Nelson: I said I’ll pass.
~Garry goes to shut the door but Stevens quickly grabs the knob for more leverage and uses his strength to keep it open~
Scott Stevens: I believe you have a problem here.
Garry Nelson: I got a few.
Scott Stevens: Well now you have another!
~Stevens smiles devilishly~
Scott Stevens: You see, your friends Bob Grenier, Warrick Hill, Jam G, and the Wizard all walk the path of 97 Red.
Garry Nelson: Well those fellers ain’t my friends anyway. So I mean…
Scott Stevens: Well you’re in danger.
Garry Nelson: How the fuck am I in danger? Ain’t ya seen me? I beat the fuck outta people and ain’t nobody attackin’ me. They attack Jace, shit, as long as I’m ‘round that feller he’s a god damn forcefield better than the ships in Star Wars got…
Scott Stevens: I mean you don’t want to get beat up like that chump Clay Byrd do you? Walking the non-97 Red path is dangerous and you don’t want that, do you?
~As he reaches into his pocket and produces a pen~
Garry Nelson: Is that a threat?
~Garry slams the door open and gets in the Texan’s face when security comes running in to separate them~
Garry Nelson: I will end yer life faster than ya can shake that fuckin’ ballpoint pen at me ya little preacher son of a bitch!
~Garry shouts at Stevens who shakes his head with disappointment as he reaches into his vest and places his sunglasses back on~
Scott Stevens: Sorry to see that you’re still unconvinced.
~Stevens turns to walk away before turning back~
Scott Stevens: Pleasure meeting you.
~Stevens waves and turns to continue walking away singing the gospel version of Undead as he leaves~
Garry Nelson: Fuck him and fuck that dumb song. Thing came out in like 2008, fuckin’ loser.
~Nelson shakes it off and marches down the hallway toward the CHECKERS position as he’s ready to compete agains Ball Ball~
Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson (4-3) vs. Ball Ball (2-1)
Belvedere: The following is a singles match and it’s scheduled for one fall!
~“Wild Thing” by X begins to play as the lights shut off. As the beat drops the lights flash back on with purple and yellow spotlights on the man himself, Ball Ball, as he crip walks out onto the stage.~
Belvedere: Introducing first from Khartoum, Sudan, standing at a staggering 7’2”, and weighing in tonight at 208 lbs. It’s the tallest man to ever kick your ass, BALL BALL!
~A crowd of people jump onto the ramp as he continues to crip walk and dapping him up saying “YESSSIRRR” and “YURRR”. As he approaches the apron, he uses his lanky legs to easily step right up onto it, and in one stride, he steps over the top rope into the ring. The Goons take their places at ringside and continue to cheer on Ball2. As he reaches the center of the ring, he stands ready in jump ball position.~
Jones: This should be an interesting match here, Hood. We have two of the tallest men on the OCW roster going at it tonight in singles action.
Hood: Ugh, this guy makes my brain hurt. The show was going so well but then this abomination had to happen.
Jones: Hood’s biased aside, last week Ball Ball was on the same team with his opponent tonight as they took on members of the Old School OCW roster members. Tonight, they are going head-to-head, and Ball Ball looks to put a major notch in his belt.
Belvedere: And his opponent…
~'Rain On The Scarecrow' by John Cougar Mellencamp begins to blast throughout the building. 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.~
Belvedere: From Nelson County, Kentucky, standing at 6’9” and weighing in tonight at 235 lbs. Here is GARRY ‘RAY-RAY’ NELSON!
~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 doesn’t 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.~
Jones: Garry Nelson was the last man standing for the “New School” team last week on Massacre and he blames Ball Ball for getting himself disqualified and costing the team the match. Tonight, we’ll see if he can get some revenge and back into the win column.
Hood: First of all, the man’s name is Ray-Ray. Second, Ball Ball totally cost the “New School” team that match. They were clearly up four members to just two before that big idiot decided to try and show up everyone else in the match. Ray-Ray is going to use his massive hands to chop or rather slap Ball Ball down to size.
~Belvedere exits the ring as Ray-Ray looks at Ball Ball standing in position for a jump ball while scratching his head. The referee Gruff is about to check on both men then signal for the bell but suddenly the sound of “Hymn of the Legion” by Farya Faraji blasts throughout the building. Ball Ball, Ray-Ray, and Gruff all look towards the stage. 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.~
Jones: Looks like we’ve got an unexpected guest here for this match.
Hood: Of course, it’s obvious that Ball Ball needs help here tonight against Ray-Ray. Clearly, they are trying to stack the odds against him.
~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 arm's reach clearly annoying him.~
Jones: You have to remember that Claudius was also on the “New School” team last week along with the fact that he will be facing Ball Ball, Helena Handbasket, and JAM G in a #1 contender match for the Craze Championship at Truth or Consequences.
Hood: So, basically, he’s out here to watch Ball Ball get his ass handed to him tonight.
Jones: I would hope Claudius is only out here to scout the competition, but you never know.
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~Claudius continues down the entrance ramp until he reaches the ringside area. Claudius stands at ringside with a generous amount of space between him and the people in the front row. Everyone in the ring stares down at Claudius in confusion but Claudius waves his hand telling them to go ahead and start the match. Gruff shakes his head and grumbles something about being too old for this shit as he calls for the bell to signal the start of the match.~
DING DING
~Ray-Ray steps up to the center of the ring as Ball Ball continues to stand there in place as if he’s literally waiting for a jump ball. Ray-Ray circles around Ball Ball trying to figure out why he’s standing like this in the center of the ring. However, Ball Ball had a plan all along as he hits Ray-Ray with an elbow shot to the side of the head. Ray-Ray staggers a bit from the shot as Ball Ball begins firing away stiff punches to the face of the man that he considers a bum. The punches stagger Ray-Ray backwards a bit. Ball Ball gives Ray-Ray a boot to the midsection then whips him into the ropes. Ray-Ray bounces off the ropes but Ball Ball hits him with a big boot that sends him crashing down to the canvas.~
Jones: Ball Ball with the early advantage here against Ray-Ray. Seems like as the weeks go by that Ball Ball has more and more tricks up his sleeves.
Hood: He took a cheap shot at Ray-Ray and then hit him with a big boot. Nothing that impressive honestly. Ray-Ray is just tired from working on the farm all day.
~Ball Ball taunts the fans as on the outside the Goons go nuts with their “YESSSIRRR” and “YURRR” chants. Claudius looks disgusted at the Goons and their antics at ringside and decides to move further away from them. Ball Ball runs towards the ropes then bounces off of them and hits Ray-Ray with an elbow drop right across the chest. Ball Ball gets back up to his feet then grabs a hold of Ray-Ray by the hair and pulls him back up to his feet. Ball Ball lifts Ray-Ray into the air then hits him with a scoop slam down to the canvas. Ball Ball flexes his arms and shows off his muscles.~
Jones: Ball Ball is in control, but he keeps wasting his time showing off after each move that he does. He needs to keep the pressure on Ray-Ray and not give him time to recover.
Hood: Just look at the absolute lack of muscle on this guy’s arms. Those things are thinner than the bones left over in Bifford’s dressing room after getting wings from catering.
~Ball Ball turns around then grabs a hold of Ray-Ray but before he can capitalize Ray-Ray gives him an elbow shot to the midsection. Ball Ball doubles over as Ray-Ray gets up to his feet. Ray-Ray grabs a hold of Ball Ball but Ball Ball is quick to counter with a thumb to the eye of Ray-Ray. The Nelson County native staggers around trying to regain his vision. As Ray-Ray turns around Ball Ball reaches out and grabs a hold of his opponent by the throat. Ball Ball lifts Ray-Ray into the air and sends him crashing down to the canvas with a big chokeslam. Ball Ball hooks the leg and makes the cover on Ray-Ray as Gruff slides in for the count.~
ONE
TWO
KICKOUT!
Jones: High impact chokeslam by Ball Ball. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone take Ray-Ray off of his feet and send him to the mat like that. However, it only got Ball Ball a two count here.
Hood: Being 7 foot 2 inches tall and hitting someone with a chokeslam should be a banned move. Where is Thaddeus Duke when you need him? Ray-Ray is an important member of his roster and who knows what kind of move this lanky bastard is going to screw up.
~The Goons on the outside begin jumping around and shouting at Gruff that it was totally a three count as Claudius shakes his head. Ball Ball gets back up to his feet and gets in Gruff’s face, but Gruff doesn’t back down from Ball Ball. Gruff threatens to disqualify Ball Ball if he puts his hands on him. Ball Ball doesn’t look pleased but turns around and focuses his attention back on Ray-Ray. Ball Ball watches Ray-Ray struggle back up to his feet. Ball Ball races towards the ropes as Ray-Ray regains his vertical base. Ball Ball bounces off the ropes but Ray-Ray hits Ball Ball with a big-time slap to the chest that sends him crashing down to the canvas. Ball Ball holds his chest in pain as Ray-Ray takes a moment to recover from the pain in his back from the chokeslam. Ray-Ray grabs a hold of Ball Ball and lifts him up to his feet. Ray-Ray grabs Ball Ball by the arm and whips him into the ropes. Ball Ball hits the ropes but wraps his long arms around the top rope to stop his momentum. Ray-Ray charges forward but Ball Ball drops down while holding onto the top rope which causes Ray-Ray to spill out to the arena floor.~
Jones: Ray-Ray tried to change the momentum of this match, but Ball Ball quickly countered and now Ray-Ray took a hard fall to the outside of the ring.
Hood: That was a desperate move by Ball Ball. That one slap to the chest alone could have finished him right there. Ray-Ray’s hands should be considered lethal weapons inside of that ring.
~Ball Ball gets to his feet and begins to distract Gruff as on the outside the Goons begin to circle the fallen Ray-Ray. With Gruff’s view impaired the Goons begin to lay in vicious stomps and kicks to the prone body of Garry Nelson. Claudius narrows his eyes but doesn’t make a move towards the chaos on the outside of the ring. Slowly but surely Ray-Ray begins to make his way back up to his feet even though the Goons are still kicking and punching him. Ray-Ray lets out a primal holler and begins unleashing slaps one by one to the various goons. Gruff shoves Ball Ball out of the way and sees Ray-Ray being attacked on the outside of the ring. One of the Goons jumps up onto Ray-Ray’s back but the slap fighting Champion continues to deal out slaps of fury to Ball Ball’s loyal Goons.~
Jones: Ball Ball tried to take a breather and distract Gruff while the Goons went to town on Ray-Ray on the outside, but it seems the plan has backfired cause Ray-Ray is having a slapfest out here right now.
Hood: I once heard that a single slap from Ray-Ray once stopped an 18-wheeler going 97 mph on the highway. These Goons better be lucky that these are just love taps from Ray-Ray because a serious slap would mean instant death.
~Gruff has seen enough and points down at the Goons and tosses them out from ringside. Ball Ball is livid and argues with Gruff as Ray-Ray reaches behind him and slings the Goon on his back down to the arena floor. Gruff once again points to the Goons and then directly to the back signaling that their night as ringside is over. The Goons pick themselves up and head up to ramp as Claudius has an amused smirk on his face. The Goons disappear through the curtain to the backstage area as Ray-Ray slides back into the ring. Ball Ball attacks immediately laying in stomps to the man that just beat up his loyal Goons. Ball Ball yells for Ray-Ray to get back up to his feet. As Ray-Ray gets up to his feet Ball Ball hits him with a slap of his own. Proud of himself Ball Ball begins to do a bit of a line dance mocking Ray-Ray.
Jones: I guess Ray-Ray isn’t the only one that has the art of slapping down. Ball Ball is just disrespecting Ray-Ray left and right during this match.
Hood: You do not slap Ray-Ray and live to tell the story. Ball Ball better get the hell out of the ring and go find his Goons backstage because I have a feeling thing are about to get ugly.
~Ray-Ray is furious and begins visibly trembling with anger as Ball Ball continues to dance. As Ball Ball turns around Ray-Ray hits him with a slap so hard it knocks him on his ass. Ball Ball is quick back up to his feet but Ray-Ray begins slapping Ball Ball repeatedly with lefts and rights that causes the man to stagger back into the corner. Ray-Ray climbs up to the middle rope and towers over Ball Ball. Instead of raining down fists Ray-Ray begins slapping Ball Ball in the face as the crowd counts along with each shot. Once Ray-Ray reaches ten slaps he hops down off the middle rope and steps away from the corner. Ball Ball staggers out of the corner but then falls down to the canvas. Ball Ball begins to fight his way back up to his feet as Ray-Ray races towards the ropes. Ray-Ray bounces off the ropes and takes Ball Ball down to the canvas with a swinging neckbreaker. Ray-Ray gets back up to his feet then grabs a hold of Ball Ball and pulls him back up to a vertical base. Ray-Ray gives Ball Ball another hard slap to the chest then whips him into the ropes. Ball Ball bounces off the ropes but Ray-Ray catches him and hits him with the John Deere Buster down to the canvas. Ray-Ray hooks the leg and makes the cover on Ball Ball as Gruff slides in for the count.~
ONE
TWO
THR--
KICKOUT
Jones: Ray-Ray with the big time spinning spinebuster but Ball Ball managed to kick out before the three. This has been a back-and-forth match but ever since the Goons were ejected from ringside it seems Ray-Ray has been able to turn the tide.
Hood: It was only a matter of time before Ray-Ray got rolling. He’s been itching to get back into the win column and after losing to TLS last week on a freaking small package you better believe Ray-Ray is out for blood.
~Ray-Ray gets up to his feet then grabs a hold of Ball Ball and lifts him back up to his feet. Ray-Ray gets a running start then tosses Ball Ball over the top rope and down to the arena floor below. Claudius decides to walk over to where Ball Ball is laying on the arena floor to get a closer look. Claudius stands behind Ball Ball but doesn’t lay a finger on him. Inside of the ring Ray-Ray gets a running start as Ball Ball struggles to get back to his feet. Ray-Ray dives through the ropes and hits Ball Ball with a suicide dive. The move drives Ball Ball back into Claudius and crushes him against the barricade.~
Jones: Ray-Ray takes flight with a suicide dive onto Ball Ball on the outside. However, Claudius was caught in the action and slammed back into the barricade by Ball Ball. With Claudius being behind him I don’t think Ball Ball took a lot of damage from that move.
Hood: That is clearly a move that THE Savage Champion Jace Parker Davidson taught Ray-Ray. As far as I’m concerned Ray-Ray just killed two birds with one stone. Instead of scouting Ball Ball tonight Claudius should be trying to learn a thing or two from Ray-Ray.
~Ray-Ray gets up to his feet then grabs a hold of Ball Ball. Ray-Ray goes to roll Ball Ball back into the ring, but Ball Ball gives Ray-Ray an elbow to the ribs then slams him headfirst down onto the ring apron. Ball Ball grabs a hold of Ray-Ray then sends him shoulder first into the steel ring steps. Ball Ball takes a moment to recover but Claudius gets back up to his feet. Claudius grabs Ball Ball by the arm and spins him around. Claudius and Ball Ball begin to argue since Claudius thinks it’s Ball Ball’s fault he got driven into the barricade. Ball Ball notices that Gruff is counting on the inside of the ring. Ball ball grabs a hold of Ray-Ray and rolls him back into the ring. Ball Ball climbs up to the ring apron then steps over the top rope to enter the ring. Ball Ball stalks around Ray-Ray as he slowly staggers back up to his feet while holding his shoulder. Ball Ball grabs a hold of Ray-Ray from behind and hits him with a release German suplex that drops him down to the canvas. Chants of USA USA USA echo throughout the crowd as Ball Ball gets up to his feet. Ball Ball leans over the top rope and begins to trash talk the audience.~
Jones: Ball Ball letting the fans here in Oklahoma City get under his skin with the chants of USA. I’m not certain if they are chanting for Ray-Ray or just being good patriots against Ball Ball’s hate of America.
Hood: Of course, they are chanting for Ray-Ray. The man represents everything great about the country. Did you know that Ray-Ray’s idol is current HOW World Champion Christopher America? You don’t get more patriotic than that.
~Ball Ball turns around then grabs Ray-Ray and pulls him back up to his feet. Ball Ball whips Ray-Ray into the corner with all of his strength. Ray-Ray hits the turnbuckle hard as Ball Ball gets a running start. Ball Ball leaps into the air and hits Ray-Ray with the Posterizer in the corner. Ray-Ray staggers out of the corner but Ball Ball plants a boot to the midsection. Ball Ball grabs a hold of Ray-Ray and spikes him down to the canvas with a DDT. Ball Ball gets back up to his feet then points down at Claudius on the outside of the ring. Ball Ball starts mouthing off to one of his opponents at Truth or Consequences. Ball Ball reaches down and then grabs a hold of one of Ray-Ray’s legs. Ball Ball locks in the Killer Crossover submission on Ray-Ray. Gruff leans down and asks Ray-Ray if he wants to give up but Ray-Ray shakes his head no.~
Jones: Ball Ball has one of his finishers, the ankle lock submission on Ray-Ray in the center of the ring. I know Ball Ball is trying to send a message to Claudius, but this might just be it for Ray-Ray.
Hood: There is no way a man as proud as Ray-Ray is ever going to tap out to someone the likes of Ball Ball. That would be like admitting that Sudan is better than the USA and no one as patriotic as Ray-Ray would rather die than to admit a lie like that.
~With Ball Ball being so tall the ankle lock on Ray-Ray has most of the Nelson County native’s body off of the canvas. Ball Ball continues to crank on the ankle of Ray-Ray causing him to scream in pain. Gruff continues to ask Ray-Ray if he wants to submit but Ray-Ray refuses. Slowly but surely Ray-Ray uses his mighty arms to try and crawl his way over towards the ropes. Ball Ball has him in a compromising position, but he didn’t account for Ray-Ray being country strong. Claudius pounds his hands on the ring apron and shouts towards Ray-Ray who gets closer and closer to the ropes.~
Jones: Ball Ball is really trying to tear Ray-Ray’s ankle apart here but somehow Ray-Ray is fighting his way over to the ropes. I feel like if Ball Ball would drop to the mat and wrap his legs around Ray-Ray’s body that it would be academic, and Ball Ball would get the win.
Hood: Ray-Ray is a strong, strong man. He might be only 235 lbs but his hands are massive, and his arms are jacked from working on the farm every single day of his life. Ball Ball might be tall but he’s not a good old corn-fed country boy like Ray-Ray Nelson.
~Ball Ball tries to drag Ray-Ray back to the center of the ring, but Ray-Ray continues to scratch and claw his way to the ropes through the pain. Ray-Ray gets inches away from the bottom rope, but it seems the pain is too much. Ray-Ray raises his hand like he’s going to tap out, but Claudius pushes the bottom rope forward and allows Ray-Ray to grasp onto it. Gruff gets to his feet and calls for Ball Ball to break the hold. Ball Ball releases Ray-Ray’s leg but is furious with Claudius on the outside of the ring.~
Jones: Ball Ball was on the verge of victory but thanks to a little assist from Claudius on the outside, Ray-Ray managed to get to the bottom rope to force a break of the ankle lock. Ball Ball needs to continue to work on the bad leg of Ray-Ray.
Hood: Ray-Ray didn’t need any kind of help reaching the bottom rope. Claudius was just making sure that the bottom rope was dry and clean. Don’t want Ray-Ray’s massive hand to slip off of the bottom rope in such a serious situation.
Jones: Do you actually believe the things you say?
Hood: Sometimes.
~Ball Ball turns his attention back towards Ray-Ray who is still on the mat. Ball Ball grabs Ray-Ray by the hair and begins to pull him back up to his feet. Ray-Ray counters with a big slap to the gut of Ball Ball that drives all the wind of his body. Ray-Ray hobbles around on one foot but hits Ball Ball with a side Russian leg sweep down to the canvas. Both men remain on the mat trying to recover as Gruff begins to count. Ray-Ray is the first to his feet then he steps through the ropes and begins climbing the turnbuckle. It takes Ray-Ray a while with his sore ankle to make it to the top rope. Ball Ball gets back up to his feet and looks around. Ray-Ray leaps off the top rope and goes for Grizzly Wintergreen Straight Cut but Ball Ball manages to counter while Ray-Ray is in mid-air.~
Jones: Modified Alley-Oop! Ray-Ray’s ankle prevented him from leaping off the top rope like he normally would, and Ball Ball caught him in mid-air! All he has to do is cover him now and this match is over!
Hood: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
~Ball Ball rolls Ray-Ray over then hooks the leg and makes the cover. However, there is no Gruff and no three counts being made. Ball Ball looks around and sees that Claudius has hopped up onto the ring apron and is distracting Gruff from making the three count for Ball Ball. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back as Ball Ball rose to his feet. Ball Ball makes his way over towards Gruff and yells that he should be doing his job. Claudius begins to taunt Ball Ball which only angers the man further. Ball Ball takes a swipe at Claudius, but he hops off of the ring apron out of Ball Ball’s reach.~
Hood: Ball Ball is letting Claudius distract him from winning this match. And here I thought the only thing Caesar I liked was the salad!
Jones: Claudius distracted Gruff the pinfall attempt, but I agree that Ball Ball needs to focus now that he has Ray-Ray down and out.
~Ball Ball shouts down at Claudius who just points towards the center of the ring. Ball Ball turns his attention to see Ray-Ray struggling to get off of the canvas. Ball Ball walks over then grabs Ray-Ray by the head and shoves it between his very tall legs. Ball Ball tries to lift Ray-Ray up for a jackknife powerbomb but Ray-Ray counters with a big back body drop that sends Ball Ball down to the canvas. Ray-Ray stomps his foot on the mat trying to get feeling back into his ankle as Ball Ball gets up to his feet. Ray-Ray plants a boot to the mid-section then hits Ball Ball with the John Deere Driver down to the canvas.~
Hood: Come on, Ray-Ray!!!
~Both Ball Ball and Ray-Ray are on the mat, but Ray-Ray can’t make the cover. Gruff starts yet another ten count as both men fight their way back to their feet. Ball Ball is still stunned from the piledriver. As Ball Ball turns around Ray-Ray connects with Blood On The Plow.~
Hood: WHAT?!
Jones: Ball Ball said he could overcome the elbow from Ray-Ray, and he did just that by ducking!
~Ray-Ray, having missed the elbow, staggers a little bit but Ball Ball goes low and hits Ray-Ray with a chop block to the bad leg. Ray-Ray crumbles down to the canvas holding his leg in pain. Ball Ball gets up to his feet and points to his head saying he’s smarter than Ray-Ray while bad mouthing America. Ball Ball turns and races towards the ropes. Ball Ball goes to rebound off of the ropes, but Claudius reaches in and trips Ball Ball causing him to fall to the canvas. Gruff has had enough of Claudius’ antics and orders him to leave ringside too just like he made the Goons leave earlier. Ball Ball gets up to his feet and begins to celebrate as Claudius makes his way back up the entrance ramp. Ball Ball turns around but runs right into Blood On The Plow from Ray-Ray. Ball Ball falls to the canvas hard as Claudius stops and turns towards the ring. Ray-Ray grabs his bad leg and just falls back on top of Ball Ball as Gruff slides in for the count.~
ONE
TWO
THREE!!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner… Garry ‘Ray-Ray’ Nelson!!!!
Jones: Ball Ball’s inexperience and lack of focus is what cost him this match. He had Ray-Ray beaten more than once but he allowed the mind games of Claudius to take his eyes off the prize.
Hood: Ray-Ray had this all along. He was the better man last week and he’s the better man here tonight. However, I have a feeling that the #1 contender's match to the Craze Championship is going to be heavy hitting when Ball Ball gets his hands on Claudius.
~Gruff helps Ray-Ray up to his feet and raises his arm in victory. Claudius stares at Ball Ball inside of the ring then holds out his thumb sideways. Claudius turns his thumb downwards with a smirk on his face. Ball Ball narrows his eyes and begins to shout at Claudius as we head away from ringside.~
~The camera follows Thaddeus Duke backstage. Beside him is big Cyrus Braddock. The two enter his office and for the moment, Thad doesn’t realize his family photo is busted all to hell. Sitting behind his desk, he spies the remnants.
THAD: Who the…
CYRUS: Easton, Boss.
~Thad rolls his eyes at the broken picture as Welsh knocks on the office door jam.
WELSH: Thad, I...
THAD: Marcus, come in, take a seat. Cy, you can go.
~Cy nods at his boss and stares down Marcus Welsh as he enters the office and takes a seat. Welsh is visibly frustrated, but doing his best to come off professional.
WELSH: Listen, I...
~Again, Welsh is cut off by Thad
THAD: I have a few things I'm going to discuss with you. Not the least of which is your recent appearance in High Octane Wrestling.
WELSH: You said yourself this PWA thing is about…
THAD: Just stop there. OCW will have no affiliation with HOW, is that clear?
~Welsh doesn’t answer.
THAD: I don’t care what you do in your free time, but OCW’s business is my business. PWA aside, OCW will stand on its own. Is that understood?
~Welsh lowers his head and nods. Reaching under his desk, Thad pulls his laptop from his bag and opens it up. Glancing at the screen for a moment, he spins it around to show Welsh.
THAD: What do you see?
WELSH: Ratings graph for the last few weeks.
THAD: Notice the peaks during title matches?
~Welsh nods.
THAD: The fans have spoken, Marcus. After Truth or Consequences, I want at least one title match on every Massacre.
WELSH: But…
THAD: Maybe I didn’t make myself clear. The fans demand it and as such, I’m giving you a mandate. If you want to keep your job as head booker, you’ll do exactly what the fans are telling me to tell you.
WELSH: Yes sir.
THAD: Speaking of Truth or Consequences, Marcus. I will not be going to New Mexico.
~Welsh looks up at Thad as he tries hard to hide a smile.
THAD: As of this morning, I’m cleared to return to action and I took a call from Dolly Waters. When Dolly calls Thad answers and I’m now tapped to be a replacement in XWF’s War Games..
…stop smiling.
WELSH: I’m not smiling.
THAD: Before you get too excited, it’s not you that’ll have my power by proxy.
~Welsh contorts his face in a confused look.
~A growing smile creases Thad’s face.
WELSH: Oh god…
THAD: Oh GODDESS!
JONES: Holy shit…
HOOD: Oh myyyyy…
THAD: Sahara will have my proxy, Marcus. While I’m in Switzerland, Sahara will have full autonomous authority of OCW just like I do.
~Thad closes his laptop and stands from his desk. Picking up the laptop, Thad starts for the door and pats Marcus on his shoulder.
THAD: Have a good night, Marcus.
~Thad exits the office leaving Marcus Welsh a little dumbfounded. He remains seated at the desk.
WELSH: What have I done?
~We zoom in on a very alone, very concerned Marcus Welsh before cutting to the parking lot. Ehud continues to march through the parking lot. He’s heading toward the arena. Ehud’s ready. He’s never been more prepared. The sheriff of MOAB is ready for one, final fight...TONIGHT~
~A motorcycle pulled into the Paycom arena, the rider showing their pass to the guy at the door, who waved them in. We see the motorcycle park and the rider steps off, pulling their helmet off, it reveals it to be a woman, when she turns and grabs a crowbar out of the saddle-bags, we see it’s Alexandra Calaway. At this point she stands up straight and starts walking towards the backstage area. Before she can get out of there, she sees Easton Alexander standing there, after their countless back and forths on Twitter, she made it known she was there so he would see her~
“Well look who it is.. The Canadian Dragon.. Guess what.. Here I am..”
~Alexandra glared at him, giving him a chance to speak up~
"Ally… Glad you decided to show up for work today."
”Oh I’m sure.. Considering you ran your mouth enough about it. This still doesn’t give my answer.. But you’ll know that when everyone else does. Right now.. This is between you.. And me..”
~She brought the crowbar up to rest on her shoulder, her eyes fixed on his~
"I thought you took your ball and went home, I guess you were just waiting for the right time… it would be a smart plan… if you didn't give it away on socials… whoops."
~Easton rolls up his sleeves and readies his hands to keep on the defensive~
”I didn’t give anything away Easton.. I still haven’t made my decision. Things could change.. There’s still one more match..”
~She glared at him once more, her hand slipping the crowbar onto the equipment box next to them, before she pulled her jacket off, and balling up her fists~
”Come on Easton.. Jump if you feel froggy enough.”
~Easton doesn't respond, he just starts to circle Calaway as she does the same, inching closer and closer to each other. Easton has the slight reach advantage, knowing this he starts to throw out jabs to gauge distance, 3 fists fly without landing… but the 4th is slipped as Alexandra moves in and tags Easton with a right hand, completely starching Easton, he stumbles back into a equipment box while keeping his hands up and deflecting Ally's wild swings however, he cant block everything and Easton starts taking some heavy shots~
~He gains space by grabbing Calaway's right hand and throws a knee into her gut. She lets out a huge gasp for air as Easton reels back for a headbutt and connects, the crack is disgusting, and reverbs through the parking lot~
~Alexandra wipes her fingers across her head, leaving behind a streak of blood. Easton has the same however he doesn't wipe away anything~
”Headbutt?”
~Easton nods and smiles, Ally smiles right back~
”Nice.”
~Easton rushes in and dips for a double leg takedown, BUT CALAWAY LIFTS A KNEE UP. Easton stumbles back again, hurt bad this time, trying to gain any consciousness, meanwhile the Dark Queen of OCW wastes no time in grabbing her rival and tossing his head into a car door, Easton hits hard and didn't raise his hands in time, Ally holds on and reels back once more~
”You still haven't learned a damn thing…”
~With all her might she slams his head right into the driver side window, shattering the glass and leaving Easton in a heap~
”Easty… you got some blood on your shirt.”
~She walks back over to the box where she set her crowbar and goes to hit him with it, turning away for a moment. You can tell she’s conflicted with it, but then just as quickly as she stopped herself she turned around and hit him in the knee with the crowbar one, twice.. Three times, before dropping it onto the box once more before slipping into her leather jacket once more, she flips her hair back before looking over her shoulder at Easton~
“One down.. One to go..”
~She places the crowbar over her shoulder, tucking her hair over her shoulder, revealing the words on the back of her jacket. KILLSWITCH. The scene fades out~
Outcast (19-3) vs. Mark Storm (9-2)
~ Short Change Hero by The Heavy begins to play through the speakers and the lights in the arena simultaneously dim down. Smoke begins to rise from the top of the stage and appearing on the screen above are the following words; ~
~A massive pop ensues as emerging from the back is Your Hero and Mine, Mark Storm; who keeps himself composed as he stands at the top of the entrance ramp. He can't help but allow his sadistic signature smirk to appear upon his lips as he closes his eyes and spreads his arms out wide, soaking in the energy that the audience are giving him as they applaud and cheer.~
Belvedere: From New York, Brooklyn.. weighing in a two hundred and twenty five pounds - Your Hero, and Mine.. MARRKKKK STORMMMMMM
~ He begins his walk down the entrance ramp, swaggering his way down.~
This ain't no place for no hero.
~ At this point, Storm is by the edge of the ring; allowing a smile to embed on his face before he jumps onto the apron and holds onto the ropes, using them to help himself up onto the turnbuckle. He's grinning from ear to ear, soaking in the rest of the cheers coming from the audience, shaking his head sideways as he lowers it, before jumping into the ring. He heads over to his designated corner and hoisting himself up onto the second ropes, a smirk upon his lips as he holds his arms up; his theme song slowly diminishing.~
Belvedere: And his opponent...
~ The death metal-esque stylings of Backbreaker by Fit For a King fill the arena as Outcast walks out from behind the curtain, followed by Veronica Strader, neckbrace and all. ~
Belvedere: Hailing from Chicago, Illinois weighing in at 228lbs... he is the former OCW Champion accompanied by the greatest former TransAtlantic Champion Veronica Strader...
~ Veronica takes her place at ringside in Outcast’s corner as the man himself slides into the ring, ignoring Storm as he cracks his head side to side and cracking his knuckles. ~
Belvedere: The man that built the current era house of OCW... OUTCAST!!!!!!!!!
~ Storm and Outcast come face to face as Scruff runs down the rules. ~
~DING DING DING!~
Jones: And Scruff calls for the bell.
~ Staring the other man down, they make some rather crass comments to one another about how the match is going to end and some other things that may not be cleared for airing. Once this goes away, the two begin to go at it with a tight collar-and-elbow tie-up. Neither one of them manages to find a real advantage as they jockey for position.~
Hood: Hopefully, they’ll hurry up and start beating the Hell out of each other.
~ Eventually, Outcast gets the upper hand and applies a tight side headlock to Storm. He grinds the hold tightly, but Storm shoves him off the ropes. Outcast bounces back on the rebound and knocks “Your Hero, and Mine” down with a Shoulder Block. Smirking that the advantage is his and not Storm’s, Outcast bounces off the ropes and looks to take his head off with a Clothesline as Storm hops up, but Storm sidesteps the former OCW champion. Off the rebound, he SNAPS him over forcefully with a headlock takeover and now has Outcast dead to rights in the center of the ring.~
Jones: Maybe Storm isn’t the drizzling shits Outcast says he is.
Hood: I wouldn’t put money on it.
~ Outcast manages to pick himself up; Veronica slaps the mat encouraging him to get up while Storm’s hands are wrapped around his neck. He shoves “Your Hero, and Mine” back to the ropes, but Storm bounces back and drills Outcast with a Spinning Heel Kick! Outcast staggers back, trying to stay on his feet, but his opponent quickly cleans his clock with a few right hands! Staggering Outcast back into the nearest corner, Storm wastes no time, measuring up his target and throwing several HARD Knife-Edge Chops!
WOOO!
WOOO!
WOOO!
WOOO!
Jones: And Storm has the clear-cut advantage!
Hood: But Wait! There’s More!
~ Outcast jabs a thumb into Storm’s right eye, stunning him long enough to mount a comeback. He turns Storm around, so he’s in the corner, then FLOORS Storm with a barrage of STIFF Snap Kicks to the chest and stomach of the opponent.~
Hood: Back in the driver’s seat! THAT’S why Outcast was the only OCW champion to beat Plethora, and Storm is a mere challenger, never the OCW Champion!
Jones: I’d hardly call an athlete in the class of Storm a "mere challenger." Lord you are fickle. You like him then you don’t, then you do!
Hood: Classic OCW, baby!
~ Outcast paces for a moment rubbing his jaw and chest! He starts to measure up Storm, but as he turns around a picture-perfect Dropkick from “Your Hero, and Mine” sends Outcast scurrying to the outside.~
Jones: And this may be a smart move on the part of Outcast. He needs to stop underestimating Storm because, at the drop of a hat, it could very WELL be lights out for him.
~Taking a reprieve in front of the announcer’s table, Outcast thinks he’s very well safe from the onslaught of Storm. However, he sees a Storm-shaped blur out of the corner of his eye that looks like it’s trying too hard to fly.~
Jones: HOLY HELL! STORM JUST FLEW OUT OF THE RING AND CAUGHT OUTCAST WITH A SUICIDE DIVE!
Hood: Your Hero, and Mine.
~ Both men try to pick themselves up following the high-risk maneuver from Storm. “Your Hero, and Mine” is up first and throws a few forearm shots into the back of Outcast’s neck before tossing the former OCW Champion back into the ring. Storm, seeing an opportunity to inflict more punishment, springboards off the second rope and brings down 225 pounds across the neck with a Corkscrew Leg drop!
1!
2!!
NO!
~ Storm doesn’t let the lack of a win deter him and reacts quickly, smelling the possibility of a victory over. He picks Outcast up and fires him into the ropes, but Outcast puts his hands on the mat and handsprings off the ropes and catches Storm running in with an Enzugiri…
BUT OUTCAST DUCKS AND LAYS OUT A TURNING STORM WITH A MUAY THAI KNEE CLINCH!
Hood: OUTCAST was playing possum! THAT is exactly why Outcast is a Champion-class athlete! He knows where he is at all times!
Jones: Undeniable.
~ The knee the head is paying dividends as Outcast has safety from an Storm onslaught, Outcast goes to town on the fallen Storm with NASTY stiff kicks to the back! A trifecta of shots makes Mark arch his back and cry out in pain as Outcast bounces off the ropes and PUNTS him hard in the face. To complete the set of moves, Outcast springs off the adjacent set of ropes and flies high in the air, coming down HARD across the back of Storm with a Double Knee Drop! ~
Hood: Outcast with amazing height!
Jones: He is a fully trained Luchadore, Hood.
~ With a hideous scowl reminiscent of a guy in a horror movie that doesn’t like what he sees in the mirror, Outcast throws an endless supply of Boxing-esque right hands aiming directly for the back of Storm’s head. Outcast narrowly avoids the count and picks up Mark before whipping him into the closest corner and unloading more quick and snappy strikes.~
Jones: Outcast is trying to prove a point. This week some harsh words from Storm seem to have started a fire under him. Veronica seems to approve at ringside! At least these two have always seemed to have felt the way they do about each other since they met.
Hood: Wrestling is also that place where you can tell your opponent you fucked their mother in the ass while calling out their father’s name and be in a stable the following week.
~ After unloading punches, Outcast scoots (not like Cass Baumer, though) back a few steps allowing Mark to drop down in the corner. Outcast hits the ropes running full-bore, PLOWING Storm in the head with a Low Running Yakuza Kick! Slowly, the former OCW Champion rolls Storm into the center of the ring and goes for the pin attempt.~
1!
2!!
~ Suddenly, “Just a Girl” by No Doubt hits the PA, and the fans are on their feet looking towards the entrance. Outcast lets go of the pin and looks over to Veronica, not sharing emotion to reveal his thoughts, but it’s obvious the two can read one another. VICTORIA STRADER appears at the top of the ramp, sneering down at Veronica and Outcast.~
Jones: Whoa! We haven’t seen these two in the same vicinity since Milftown Island!
Hood: Man, what a threesome that would be. Like, are they technically even related?
Jones: What?
Hood: Naw man hear me out- - -
Jones: Please send your angry fan mail to LGE/OCW HQ in NYC.
~ Victoria blows a kiss and points behind Outcast. He turns around and…~
Jones: CORKSCREW ROUNDHOUSE!!
Hood: DAMN!!!!
~Storm drops atop Outcast’s shoulders for the cover as Victoria’s music stops, and she leaves the entranceway but not before winking at an enraged Veronica.~
1!
2!!
KICK OUT!
Jones: Great offensive counter by Storm. He almost had Outcast off that big-time Corkscrew Roundhouse!
Hood: Storm almost had to send Victoria a gift basket!
Jones: I have a feeling that whatever is going on between those three, it’s not good, Hood.
Hood: Not all good in the hood!
~ While Hood pats himself on the back for that stupid response while Storm measures up Outcast and tries taking his head off with a low Roundhouse Kick this time, but Outcast dodges the oncoming kick. Turning around, Storm walks right into a nasty Over-the-Shoulder Jawbreaker to stun him. Buying himself some time, Outcast tries to whip Mark to the opposite side of the ring again, but Storm reverses by planting his boot in Outcast’s gut near the ropes. He dashes at the former champion again… ~
Jones: HOLY HELL!
Hood: DAMN, HE FLEW!
~ Outcast catches Storm at the apex of his jump and HURLS him over the ropes with an Exploder Suplex that dumps “Your Hero, and Mine” out to the floor with a loud pop from the crowd!
Hood: Thank you for flying with “Outcast” Airways!
~ Storm has yet to recover from the gruesome impact of the Exploder, but Outcast couldn’t care less about Storm’s well-being. Outcast smirks and wraps both arms around Storm’s back before driving him HARD back-first into the ring apron! Storm cries out in pain from the back-to-back brutal maneuvers, but Outcast ignores them completely and rolls him back under the bottom rope. He drives a forearm into Storm’s face and has him with the cover.~
1!
2!!
FOOT ON THE ROPES!
~ Storm manages to save himself some energy with the errant foot on the ropes. Outcast realizes Mark may still have a little in him, and lifts him up. Outcast yanks Storm’s head down before STIFFLY driving a succession of knees aimed at the forehead!
Jones: And now Outcast is showing off those Mauy Thai style knee strikes.
Hood: Wherever Outcast has been, it surely has made him tougher and meaner.
~ Smelling blood, Outcast takes him down to the mat with a DDT and begins to let the knees go, throwing each knee as hard as he possibly can. After about ten or so knees, Outcast backs away, gritting his teeth at Storm, who notices the open wound. ~
Jones: Storm’s been busted open! He’s bleeding a little bit, but the longer this goes, the longer it could go in Outcast’s favour.
~Rolling the woozy Storm over, he goes for the cover.~
1!
2!!
NO!
~ The self-proclaimed “Your Hero, and Mine” of OCW throws a defiant shoulder up, but Outcast doesn’t waste any time dishing out more brutality with several nasty kicks to the head as Storm tries to mount a comeback. He staves off a few of the kicks by blocking them and throwing several rights to halt Outcast’s momentum, but another powerful knee to the face inhibits his comeback. Outcast slashes a thumb across his throat to say "I’m done with this shit!" and looks to set up for...
Jones: Looks like Outcast is setting Mark up for Parallel Life move.
Hood: Get ready to ring the bell, Scruff.
~ But Storm is able to slide out and…
Jones: RAGE OF GLORY!
Hood: Your Hero, and Mine, everybody!
~ Buying himself some time from Outcast’s blitz, Storm grabs his head and wipes some of the excess blood away with his hand before rolling over and climbing to his feet. Outcast, not liking this horrid turn of events for the match, swings wildly at Storm, but the Brooklyn, NY native ducks the oncoming blow and plasters him with a Jumping Knee! Two kicks to the ribs stuns Outcast long enough for Storm to whip him to the ropes. Outcast reverses and tries for a Short-Arm Lariat, but he ducks under the move, wraps up Outcast in a Half Nelson before driving the back of Outcast’s head to the mat.~
Hood: That came out of nowhere!!!
Jones: Half Nelson Leg sweep! Storm quickly goes for the cover!
1!
2!!
THR… KICK OUT!
Jones: So close to getting the win right there, but Outcast’s managed to stay in the game so far.
~ Holding up three fingers to Scruff doesn’t sway him in favour of Storm, so he just continues the assault by picking Outcast up and hurling him into the nearest corner. From there, Storm ascends the turnbuckle and introduces The former OCW Champion to a series of hard Elbow shots to the forehead that the fans count along with.~
OCW Faithful: ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FI-OOOOOOOOOOOOOH!
Hood: HAHA! Great counter there!
Jones: DAMN, what a move! Outcast either from weak legs or smart thinking drops down. Letting Storm fall face first onto the turnbuckle.
~ Showing great in-ring presence, Outcast grabs Mark by the waist and lifts him in the air as he walks out towards the middle of the ring. Storm, showing that there is a reason why he has won many titles in his career (but desperately wanting an OCW one sooner than later), drops an elbow right into the bridge of Outcast’s nose. Outcast lets go, and Storm lands on his feet. Outcast staggers back into the corner as Storm gets a running start! ~
Jones: Storm leaps over the top rope while grabbing Outcast’s head and driving his neck down across the top rope!
Hood: Hey…Scruff, you gotta WATCH THAT!!!! He dead, man. He dead.
~Outcast’s head snaps back with vicious-looking speed as he falls back to the mat. Outcast gets no chance to recover as Storm yanks him out of the ring. Storm wraps Outcast up and moves a little to the right.~
Jones: What’s he got planned now?
OCW Faithful: OOOOOOOOOOOOH!
~ With damn near blinding speed, Storm is able to spin Outcast around and plants him into the thin mats with a Sitout Face Slam!~
Jones: Apparently that!
~ Smug and proud of his handiwork, Storm slides Outcast back into the ring. He props him up in the corner so everyone can see the blood rushing down Outcast’s face. Mark wipes the blood that is now freely flowing from his forehead. Mark uses those power legs to lift Outcast straight up and sit him on top of the top turnbuckle! ~
Hood: This is not looking good; Come on Outcast…hit the low blow!
Jones: I don’t think Outcast is there enough to do anything but bleed!
~ Mark hooks Outcast up and lifts him straight in the air. It looks like he is going for a superplex, but quickly falls backwards, dropping Outcast down into a Screwdriver style piled river.~
Jones: MY GOD!!! Did you see how Outcast’s neck compounded!!
Storm drapes an arm over Outcast, wrapping the leg.
1!
2!!
3!!!
NO!!!! SHOULDER!
This ain't no place for no better man.
This ain't no place for no hero
To call "home."