LIVE! July 4th 2022
FROM Madison Square Garden
In New York City
~And we’re back! It’s another Monday night, the first in July. And not just any evening in July...the FOURTH of July. Most people are out popping fieworks, shotgunning beers, masturbating to Rambo...but not us. We here at OCW are hard at work for YOUR pleasure. It’s Independence Day and we’re coming to you LIVE from the Big Apple. It’s time for Monday Night Massacre! We cut to a sold out Madison Square Garden...back in the home of Majority Owner, Thaddeus Duke. The fans are going wild...already feeling the good libations conquering their blood stream. OCW chants spread throughout the fans like wildfire. Signs litter the crowd, expressing people’s joy and displeasure when it comes to certain stars on the roster. We focus in on Jones and Hood who are here to commentate on all the red, white, and blue action~
Jones: Hello again everyone and welcome to Monday Night Massacre! I’m your host Jones and alongside me, as always, is Hood.
Hood: Whatever.
Jones: You okay, pal?
Hood: People are out drinking beer, hanging on the lake with half naked chicks, listening to Britney Spears and I’m in here working.
Jones: Britney Spears?
Hood: Don’t question my methods.
Jones: I’ll do my best. Folks, we’ve got some interesting matches for you tonight. The debut of Ball Ball! BAM G faces The Lockwood Party...a win here might FINALLY get them that tag title shot. Cass Baumer returns to the ring against another returning face, Ed Houston! Amick Dogeron looks to bounce back from having victory ripped from his hands last week as he takes on Easton Alexander, who is on a roll!
Hood: Yea, could be the match of the night. Two of our premier up and coming talents.
Jones: Yep, two former ‘newcomers’ of the month! And, in our main event, personal issues will run hot and heavy as CJ O’Donnell and Alexandra Calaway represent Paramount in tag team action against Mark Storm and the newly crowned TransAtlantic Champion, CYPH3R.
Hood: Four elite talents all in one ring. A main event level match for sure.
Jones: A highly competitive card for YOUR viewing pleasure! Let’s get the event underway!
~ The camera fades backstage and you see Killa Kali entering the bathroom. “The Distinguished” CJ O’Donnell sees this and a smirk appears on his face. The camera zooms in on his right hand and black nunchucks drop from his hand. ~
You thought this was over. Now the real fun begins…
~ CJ kicks open the bathroom door and Killa is taking a piss. ~
SURPRISE MOTHA FOOKER!!
~ Killa finishes taking a leak and as soon he turns around he is met with a shot to the ribs by the nunchucks. Killa smiles as if he enjoyed the shot before CJ kicks him swiftly in the balls which sends him down to his knees. Killa holding his family jewels as a bigger smirk appears across his face. ~
How does that feel Killa? You wanted a WAR … For weeks you have been sticking your nose in Paramount business. You have no idea what that Prison Yard Match did to me … I wanna say thank you …
~ Killa tries to speak but before any words come out CJ cracks him across the face with the nunchucks. Blood flies out of Killa's mouth as CJ seems to be enjoying this. ~
Thank you Killa for showing me a side of me that I didn’t know I enjoyed so much. You are going to be thanking me after this is all said and done Kali. Maybe you will leave as OCW Champion when Truth or Consequences happens. If you do you’ll have me to thank…
~ Just as it looks like CJ is about to leave the bathroom. Killa is getting up slowly but CJ comes running towards him and connects with Irish Knowledge. Killa’s head hits one of the bathroom door stalls. Kali holds the back of his head as CJ stands tall over his as security comes into the bathroom. CJ puts his hands up and the nunchucks fall out of his hand and hit Killa in the chest. O’Donnell is smiling as you go to the next cutscene. ~
Ball Ball (0-0) vs. An American Hero (0-0)
~The American Flag flies high! Fans are singing the pledge of allegiance...yes, SINGING it. Some fire works go off. Oh yea, we’re getting down and partying no America’s birthday. We aren’t a perfect country but we’re better than most. Belvedere stands in the ring, an American flag pinned to his sports coat. He clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night Massacre!
~The crowd goes wild! Fireworks go off! Sparks shoot out of each turnbuckle! Old glory waves while flags from other countries shit themselves. It’s getting violently American in here~
Belvedere: The following contest is scheduled for one fall...introducing first…
~Wild Thing 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. A crowd of people jump onto the ramp as he continues to crip walk and dapping him up saying “YESSSIRRR” and “YURRR”. From Khartoum, Sudan, standing at a staggering 7’2, it’s the tallest man to ever kick your ass, BALL BALL! 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. As he reaches the center of the ring he stands ready in jump ball position~
Belvedere: From Khartoum, Sudan...standing 7’2 and weighing in at 208lbs...he is...Ball Ball!!!
~The fans BOOOOO! They saw him attack the Amish. They saw the title of his promo from earlier in the week. This man is not one to be cheered...not tonight! Ball Ball remains in the jump ball position...the man is dedicated and focused. Belvedere eyes him like maybe this guy isn’t all there, upstairs. He takes a step back~
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Jones: Well? Who’s it gonna be.
Hood: No clue. There are lots of Americans.
~ “Real American” by Rick Derringer starts to play! The fans leap to their feet, jamming to the all american tune! From behind the curtain steps a man that looks very much like a popular wrestler from the 80s who told us all to say our prayers and eat our vitamins (steroids). He storms to the ring in a yellow shit that reads “MURICA”. He bobs his head, the crowd goes wild...he slaps hands on his way to the ring~
Belvedere: Please welcome to OCW...A LITERAL AMERICAN HERO!
~The man marches to the ring...a big breasted woman leans over, ripping her shirt off, her tits flying free enjoying the type of freedom that only AMERICA allows. The American Hero reaches out and high fives each titty, showing that he’s a man of equality. No tit goes unslapped. He storms up the steps and enters into the ring. Ball Ball breaks from his trance and he paces around, anxiously. The aura of THE AMERICAN HERO has filled MSG...it’s like the ultimate moment in the Revolutionary War when Abraham Lincoln stabbed Hitler in the heart with the Gettysburg Address effectively ending the Cold War by crushing Vietnam. Belvedere dives out of the ring...it’s too AMERICAN. The American Hero stomps around...he takes his hand to his ear and leans toward the crowd...they go wild! “USA! USA!”~
Jones: The American Hero is here!
Hood: A man LITERALLY named American Hero. How creative.
Jones: Give us a break, it’s been a busy weekend.
~The American Hero heads across the ring, bringing his hand to his ear. The crowd ejaculates with RED WHITE AND BLUE pride! The American Hero RIPS his shirt off, roaring as loud as he can. But Ball Ball runs into view, punching him in the back!! The bell rings! The fans BOOO!! The American Hero stumbles into the ropes. Ball Ball continues to punch him in the head~
Jones: Ball Ball looking to end this Violently American moment by sneak attacking The American Hero!
Hood: This is just like when the Germans Bombed Pearl Harbor!
Jones: Sure.
~A kid starts to cry. Somewhere a bald eagle falls from the sky. A coal mine in West Virginia (probably) begins to cave in. America’s foundation is shaking. Ball Ball smacks The American Hero across the jaw. He then lifts a sharp knee into the American Hero’s face...but The American Hero raises up, eyes wide, staring at Ball Ball! Ball Ball stumbles back, shocked. Ball Ball throws a shop into The American Hero’s forehead, but he points his finger in Ball Ball’s face and the fans yell out, “YOU!!!!”~
Jones: Uh oh! Ball Ball is in trouble! The American Hero is Jeffersoning up!
Hood: Seems like a forced term.
Jones: A little bit.
~The American Hero BLASTS Ball Ball in the head with a right punch! The fans yell “ONE!” He this Ball Ball again “TWO!” And again! “THREE!!!” Ball Ball reels against the ropes, The American Hero whips him off the ropes...Ball Ball sprints across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and eating a BIG BOOT to the face!!! He falls to the mat!! The fan go wild! The American Hero hits the ropes, he comes off and he leaps into the air dropping a big boot atop Ball Ball just like when Ulysses Grant dropped the Atomic Bomb on Cuba effectively ending the Cold War against Sadam Gaddafi and the Middle East!!! The American Hero goes for a pin! The fans count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The crowd goes wild!!! The American Hero is up rejoicing! Shit is so loud nobody realizes one very important thing~
Jones: Two! It was only two!
Hood: These fuckers can’t count to three. Classic America.
~Scruff holds two fingers up! The American Hero looks at him and delivers the ‘peace sign’ right back at him, thinking Scruff is being super cool and chill. Ball Ball leaps to his feet and grabs The American Hero’s head, dropping him with Alley Oop (Pop Up Cutter)!!!! The fans gasp! Women scream!! Babies wail! Ball Ball pins The American Hero~
1!
2!
3!!!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...BALL BALL!!!!!
Jones: Ball Ball wins! He defeats THE AMERICAN HERO on American’s Birthday!
Hood: How violently unamerican.
~The people of MSG boo!! The American Hero is down. He isn’t moving. Ball Ball is on his feet...he jumps up, arms in the air. The booing increases! He exits the ring and hops off the apron. Fans throw trash at him but he just jumps up and swats the trash back at them wagging his index finger in their direction. MORE BOOOOS. The American Hero is still down...it’s like he’s dead. We cut away to Jones and Hood~
Jones: Ball Ball with a very memorable win to kick things off here on the 4th of July.
Hood: Ball Ball is the man, Jones. He transcends things like countries and nationalities. Ball Ball is love. Ball Ball is life.
Jones: Uh, sure. Ball Ball with an impressive debut win. Keep an eye out on this guy, folks. He may seem...different. But I’m told he’s a talent OCW management thinks will do some major damage as his OCW career moves forward.
~The OCWtron lights up and the camera is at ground level when a pair of snakeskin boots enter the frame and the fans grow restless as they think they know who it is.~
Hood: Seriously? When is this family just going to be gone? WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!
Jones: Hood! That is not true! The Strader family has been nothing but Strong and Proud for OCW. I appreciate everything they have done for our great company!
Hood: Kiss ass.
Jones: You’re one to talk.
~The camera begins to move to the rear of the person and pans up showing blue denim jeans, and a black leather kutte that has MANITOBA for the bottom rocker of the patches, a smiling grim reaper with a MIGHTY SCYTHE in it’s grasp, middle finger extended and the top rocker reads: BROTHERS OF MAYHEM. The semi long blonde hair is slicked back, and the fans erupt as the side profile of JOHN NASH STRADER is revealed with his panty-dropping smile. A loud shriek is heard.~
Jones: Hood! That’s our Craze Champion’s twin brother!
Hood: They don’t look identical to me.
Jones: Male and female twins aren’t identical, dumbass.
Hood: No need for name calling, you fat fuck.
~The fans erupt as TAMIKA STRADER comes flying at her twin brother, almost knocking him down with a hug.~
Tamika Strader: John! What are you doing here lil’bruh-bruh?!
~ The six foot five Motorcycle Club President shakes his head.~
JNS: Ten minutes. Ten minutes doesn’t make you my big sister.
Tamika Strader: It does when it makes it the next day! Haha!
JNS: You are such a pain in the ass.
Tamika Strader: Your favourite pain in the ass! So what are you doing here? I thought you were staying in London with Megz?
~He smirks as he reaches into his kutte pulling out a softpack of Marlboro Reds (Strader favourite apparently) and lights a cigarette. An employee walks by with a disgusted look.~
Arena Employee: Excuse me, no smoking in here.
JNS: *takes a drag, exhaling in her face* My mistake.
~He drops the cigarette down on the ground in front of her, and puts it out with the heel of his boot as the triggered employee walks away in a huff. Tamika shakes her head.~
Tamika Strader: Still charming as ever.
JNS: Not my fault that chick has a stick up her ass.
Tamika Strader: Right, right… so you still haven’t said what you are doing here.
~John smiles.~
JNS: Ah well, will be revealed soon enough… can you point me towards CJ O’Donnell’s locker room?
Tamika Strader: Oh, yeah those Paramounters are this way.
~Tamika leads John through the back as we move back to ringside.~
Jones: CJ O’Donnell? What does John Nash Strader want with the leader-not-leader of Paramount?
Hood: Well, if he’s looking for CJ maybe he ain’t so bad. You think he has a gun?
Jones: Maybe.
Hood: Hmmm…
~A frantically frazzled Sahara bursts through huge double doors backstage at Madison Square Garden dressed in a long white lab coat. Her platinum hair is disheveled and flying in every direction, and cockeyed silver shades cover her eyes that she probably can’t see through…
SAHARA: Great Scott, where is that damn kid?!
~Lifting her shades, Sahara carefully scans the backstage area and momentarily looks at the back of a very tall lanky man with a jersey that reads “Ball” on the back. She walks up to tap him on the shoulder, but ultimately thinks better of it and shakes her head–
SAHARA: Nah, he’d never fit in that damned time machine!
~Turning, she grabs a random production assistant by the shirt and shakes him with a great sense of urgency…
SAHARA: Where is he? Where’s Cyphie?!
~The rather surprised looking production assistant stumbles through his words as he points down the hallway…
PRODUCTION ASSISTANT: Cypher? I-I-I th-think I saw him in catering!
~Pausing for a second, Sahara shoves the OCW peon away…
SAHARA: Catering you say?! OMG I LOVE OCW catering!
~Storming away, she half-jogs down the hallway toward the location of catering while looking over her shoulder every so often. Upon arriving at catering, she finds that damn kid and urgently taps her watch…
SAHARA: Mart–err, Cypher! Hurry, we gotta go before they find us!
~A confused looking Cypher looks at the spazzily disheveled Sahara.
CYPH3R: Who? What?!
SAHARA: Nevermind who, it’s better to not name foreign enemies! Wouldn’t wanna offend anyone. But I got a feeling they want their platinum back, and we gotta get back to the future and stop this paradoxical world ending event from happening…
~Cypher rolls his eyes but plays along with her absurdity~
CYPH3R: Don’t you mean the past… and plutonium?
SAHARA: PRECISELY! Damn this is heavy…
CYPH3R: Lauren… what the hell are you doing?!
SAHARA: What am I doin’?! We gotta send you back to that fish under the sea dance and stop Thad’s parents from getting together!
~Cypher mouths the letters WTF.
CYPH3R: Um, Lauren, if that was even a possibility, why would Thad’s parents be there?! And wouldn’t that pretty much ruin your life and put you back to being a waitress at Applebee’s?
~She seems to contemplate this for a moment, but shakes it off.
SAHARA: Probably, but I’m super mad about THIS right now… Thad won’t get me out of this stupid Margaritaless tournament, so I’ve devised a rather simple fix! Okay maybe not so simple. But all we gotta do is go back, stop Thad from being born so he never takes over the OCW and I won’t have to be in this stupid match, and as an added bonus, this crazy shit you’re watching right now will never even occur! Like I said, it’s a paradox!
~Sahara snaps her fingers as if a lightbulb went off in her mind.
SAHARA: Oh, and while we’re at it, we can also take out Knox and Thanos half the efed population at the same time… including those damned Straders! Think of all the good we’d be doing together! You and I… as a team! No… as THEE team!
~Sahara nods rather proudly even in the face of her own self-sacrifice.
SAHARA: Even if it means I’m just a lowly waitress again… it’ll all be worth it.
~As Cypher opens his mouth to speak, she reaches out and gently holds his lips shut.
SAHARA: C’mon kid, I parked the Delorean in the parking garage… I covered it in a tarp so nobody would wonder what we’re trying to hide. I wrote weather equipment on it just in case they almost check what’s–
~Cyphers brow furrows, cutting her off.
CYPH3R: –wait, did you spend Thad’s money on a Delorean?! An actual Delorean?!
SAHARA: Not a Delorean. THE Delorean. And it’s my money, too. It’s got a working flux captivator thingy and everything. It’s stainless steel construction… does something. I dunno what… but it’s definitely something.
~A worried look comes over Cypher's face.
CYPH3R: A flux… captivator?
SAHARA: Yeah, I need it to generate the 1.21 jijasomethings to power the time things. And if my calculations are correct, there should be just enough room in the parking garage to get ‘er up to 88 before we hit the wall, where you’ll probably see some serious shit!
CYPH3R: Probably?!
~Sahara scoffs.
SAHARA: Okay, hopefully! Hopefully we get it up to 88 right before we we the wall, and we’ll travel back in time at that instant and coast safely through an open field of wheat—
CYPH3R: A field of wheat?!
~Cypher shakes his head.
CYPH3R: Wait, hold up. How the hell do you know that wall won’t still be there back wherever we end up?!
~Sahara rolls her eyes so hard they practically spin in her head.
SAHARA: Not wherever, Cyphie! WHENEVER! And I’m pretty sure people didn’t build parking garages back in the 50’s and 60’s…duh! Did they even have cars then?! This was probably all farmland or something…
~Heaving a sigh, Cypher pulls out his phone and taps away. Looking over the top of his phone at “Doc” Sahara he shows her the screen… her eyes bulge wide.
SAHARA: What the shit?! MSG was built in 1879?! I had no idea they had cars back then…
~Cypher closes his eyes and hangs his head upon hearing her comment…
CYPH3R: …they didn’t.
SAHARA: Cypher… I need you for this mission. Whadoya say?! You wanna join forces with me and stop one of the greatest catastrophic events of all time?! This whole tournament is one huge paradox, and we gotta stop it before it implodes the universe! A margarita mixer with no fucking margaritas?! C’mon… now is our opportunity to step up and be heroes!
~Cypher rubs his temples, weighing up the multitude of negatives and very few positives that were likely to transpire should he say yes.
CYPH3R: Uhh, Doc…Duke, if imma do this, I’m gonna need something from you…
SAHARA: Hurry up Cyphie, we don’t have much time!
CYPH3R: I’m gonna need your username and password. Not the only one you changed after I hacked you last time, but the new one.
SAHARA: Oh sure it’s uh… SAHARAISCOOL92 and Thaddy’sHoe, with an apostrophe.
CYPH3R: Alright, then I’m in.
SAHARA: Fuck yeah! Wait, why did you want that info?
CYPH3R: …no reason.
~Sahara shrugs but dismisses it.
SAHARA: Wow. Heavy. But if it was good for you it was great for me! Fish under the sea dance, here we come! TOGETHER. Cyphie and Sahara!
~As the scene fades we cut back to ringside.
JONES: Does that mean Sahara and Cypher have joined forces for the Mix?!
HOOD: I… think so? But her idea to take out the whole Knox bloodline sounds like a pretty solid plan…
JONES: Oh, come on, it’s as ridiculous as she is making a mockery of this tournament!
Hood: A mockery? Her inclusion instantly legitimizes the MIX.
Jones: Well, I don't know about that. She's talented...from what I HEAR. But it'd be nice to actually see it in the ring at some point in the not too distant future.
Hood: You can't rush greatness.
Jones: Bah. Folks, it sounds like we've got our FIRST MIX team and it's a big one. Stay tuned as more teams could be formed throughout the night. Tag team action is coming your way, next!
BAM G (4-0) vs. The Lockwood Party(1-2)
~"Where The Hood At" By DMX rings through the arena and Bob Grenier emerges in typical Bob fashion, With a massive joint hanging from his mouth and a smile on his face as he soaks up the adulation of the crowd.. Halfway down the aisle, "Where The Hood At" gives way to "No One Knows" by Queens of The Stone Age and Jam G emerges. Jam and Bob meet halfway down the aisle, They give each other props and signify that they are looking for the OCW Tag Team Championships. Bob motions for Jam to go ahead, Jam jumps over the top rope and into the ring, He points to the OCW faithful as Bob slides under the bottom rope and does the same. The crowd erupts into a loud "BAM G" chant. Bob exits the ring and gives his half burnt joint to a fan at ringside before climbing back into the ring~
~He hugs both of his buddies in The Lockwood Party, They share a moment and he reminds them this is "just business" and that nothing will come between them. He tells The Lockwoods to give them everything they got~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, this is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall! In one corner you have Jack and Tom...The Lockwood Party!! And, in the other corner...the team of JAM G and Bob Grenier...they are BAM G!!!
~ Belvedere exits. The bell rings. Bob will start with Jack Lockwood, Bob assures Jam G that he's got this. Jam nods. Immediately as the bell rings, Bob rushes Jack, knocking him down with a clothesline. Jack gets up quickly, but Bob takes him down with a northern lights suplex. Bob picks Jack up off the mat and they begin to exchange stiff chops. Bob hits a swift kick to the gut followed up by a spinning mule kick. Jack hops up quickly and both men trade blows again. Jack whips Bob off the ropes and Bob ducks a big boot, landing a springboard uppercut right after. Jack holds his jaw as he gets back to his feet but Bob seeks to take advantage with a belly to back suplex, Quickly followed by a standing senton splash. He quickly goes for the pin~
1
2
Kickout!
Jones: Grenier with an early pin attempt on Jack Lockwood.
Hood: Yea, some evil booking by OCW pitting Bob against his buddies.
Jones: Well, you saw what Bob said. It’s just business.
~Bob lifts Jack from the mat and hits a scoop slam, He picks Jack up again and lifts him into The Hollinger Park Hangman! He doesn't pin him though.. Bob turns and points to Jam, The crowd wants the tag. They chant "BAM G" loudly. Bob lifts Jack and shoves him toward his corner, He tags in his brother Tom. Bob tags Jam~
Jones: Tom entering the match, along with JAM G.
Hood: Advantage Lockwoods.
Jones: Not so fast. JAM G has come a long way over these past few months.
~Tom and Jam G meet in the center of the ring. Jam G stands opposite Tom Lockwood, Jam G charges at Tom who is caught off guard with a huge elbow smash! Tom Lockwood gets back up, Jam hits a second Elbow Smash, Jam G hits the ropes but Tom Lockwood rises to his feet.. Flying Lariat! Tom begins to play to the audience who chant "JAM G" loudly. Jam G gets to his feet and taps Sparks on the shoulder, As he turns around Tom is met with a low kick that sweeps him off his feet, Jam G then hits him with several weak looking kicks that leave Tom unfazed, Tom face washes Jam to the mat, Jam G gets up quickly and Tom levels him with a vicious clothesline that literally turns him inside out. He lifts Jam G and whips him into the ropes, On the rebound Jam ducks underneath Tom's legs and comes back with a drop kick to the knees, While on the ground Jam hits Tom with a standing senton and goes for the cover~
1
2
Kickout!
Jones: And JAM G with a pin attempt! Told ya he was looking better!
Hood: Bah! I refuse to acknowledge it.
Jones: ACKNOWLEDGE HIM
~Tom tags Jack, Jam G attempts to tag Bob but Bob jumps off the apron, Essentially leaving Jam to fight alone. Jack hits a bicycle kick to the back of Jam Gs head while his attention is turned to Bob on the floor. Jack puts Jam G into a surfboard submission. He let's the submission go and tags Tom, They immediately hit a 3D on Jam G, Tom covers Jam~
1
2
Kickout!
~Tom picks him up and powerbombs him. He goes for the cover again~
1
2
Kickout!
Jones: JAM G is in trouble!
Hood: Told ya!
~Tom slams his hands in the mat in frustration. He picks Jam up and hits a double arm DDT. He covers him again~
1
2
Kickout!
~He goes to pick up Jam G again and Jam quickly takes him by surprise with a schoolboy roll up~
1
2
3!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here are your winners….BAM G!!!!!
Jones: BAM G with the win THANKS to JAM G!
Hood: Weak ass SHIT
Jones: They look like #1 contenders to me...wouldn’t you say?
Hood: I’ll never use the words ‘#1 Contender’ and ‘JAM G’ in the same sentence.
Jones: You just did.
Hood: Fuck your mother.
Jones: HEY! Alright fans, will BAM G get the OCW Tag Title Shot? Let’s send it to Marcus Welsh!
~The OCWTron lights up. Welsh is backstage, staring at Bob and JAM G who are in the ring, victorious~
Marcus Welsh: Bob. JAM G. Up here.
~They look up at Welsh on the screen~
Marcus Welsh: Now, as you’re all aware...we have Tag Titles. They haven’t been defended in nearly two months. The owners of those belts, Mike Zybala and TLS, have managed to enjoy a lengthy reign without so much as one defense. Rumors have been swirling...when will the belts be defended...and, more importantly, against WHO?
~The crowd murmurs with anticipation and intrigue~
Marcus Welsh: There’s The Machine Cult. Undefeated, stout looking team. And, of course, JPD and Ray Ray Nelson have tossed their hat into the mix, no pun intended. A team that, I’m sure, would give TMZ everything they could ask for and then some. A team that, if you’re going based off talent and career achievements, SHOULD get the shot.
~The fans boo~
Marcus Welsh: BUT
~The booing gives way to an angst filled stillness~
Marcus Welsh: In-ring success means something. More specifically, OCW in-ring success. So, Bob Grenier and JAM G...you two have finally earned it. Next week, in the main event of Massacre...BAM G will challenge TMZ for the OCW Tag Team Titles!
~The crowd goes wild! JAM G looks up at Bob..he’s shocked. He’s going to be competing for the OCW Tag Titles IN the Main Event. Bob slaps him upside the head and brings him in for a victory hug before raising his hand high! The fans give them a huge ovation a Welsh vanishes from the OCWTron~
Jones: And, it’s official! Next week TMZ will defend the tag team titles against BAM G!
Hood: Can we get a team with a name and not just LETTERS
Jones: Get over it, Hood. JAM G is in a main event for a title.
Hood: Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit killing jobbers.
Jones: What a main event! The tag titles on the line, next week! Don’t miss it!
~The crowd pops as TLS, Killa Kalli, Mike Zybala and SHE-LS come running down to the ring. Kalli is the first one in, he grabs one of the Lockwood boys and hurls him out of the ring. Bob Grenier and Jam G square up as Kalli grabs the other Lockwood and flings him out as well. Bob and Jam G are back to back now as the members of PTSD surround them in the ring~
Hood: BamG barely had time to celebrate their win tonight. And the big announcement from Welsh!
Jones: Mike Zybala has a mic, let's see what they have to say.
Mike Zybala: Bob, Jam. Look we didn't come down here to fight you. We came down here to congratulate you two for a hard fought victory. And we figured since you guys have been on a streak as of late, that we’d be just fine with showing up to defend these belts against you two next week. You guys deserve it.
Hood: The crowd seems to agree to this.
Jones: Well they have earned it.
Mike Zybala: Oh, one thing though, were going to keep it a surprise as to which combination if the 4 of us will be defending the titles.
~Mike Zybala drops the mic and begins to head out of the ring. But instead of following him out, SHE-LS shoves Jam G. Kalli and Bob bump chests and trash talk. Zybala turns back around and sees what going on and tells TLS ," let's go". TLS shrugs at Zybala, then turns to JamG and kicks him~
Hood: Oh no. Looks like all hell is going to break loose.
Jones: Kalli and Grenier are exchanging blows!!
~SHE-LS ans TLS double team Jam G have him in the corner and are pummeling away. Zybala is trying to get them to stop but the don't pay him any attention. TLS motions for SHE-LS to run to the other corner as he lifts Jam G up into a suplex , he holds him in the air long enough for SHE-LS to climb the turn buckle. SHE-LS gives TLS the thumbs up , TLS drops Jam G down as SHE-LS leaps off the top and lands on him with a from splash. Meanwhile Kalli has Grenier in a full Nelson and yells for Zybala to come over. Zybala refuses~
Hood: Zybala just wanted to come down and talk.
Jones: While the other members of PTSD had destruction in mind.
~SHE-LS tosses Jam G out of the ring as TLS hurries over to Kalli. TLS kicks Grenier in the gut as Kalli release him. Kalli is next to Zybala who is shaking his head. SHE-LS joins TLS again and are now pummeling Grenier in the corner. TLS waves at Zybala to deliver a super kick. Again he refuses but the crowd is chanting for him to do it. Zybala hears the crowd, looks around at his stable mates then delivers a Super kick on Grenier in the corner. The crowd cheers loudly~
Hood: I can't believe Zybala did that.
Jones: Well he gave the fans what they wanted.
~SHe-LS grabs the mic as Kalli and TLS grabs Grenier. She speaks in her Bifford voice~
SHE-LS: YOU JUST GOT STONED!!!
~Kalli and TLS bring Grenier to the center of the ring. KALLI hooks him into a powerbomb and slams him down. All 4 members of PTSd stand in the ring as we cut to commercial~
Check out the Reformation Replay for the ULTRA LOW PRICE of $69.69!!!
~ The camera fades backstage in The Paramount locker room. You see Alexandra Calaway, Ed Houston, Crash Rodriguez, Lou Pohl and CJ O’Donnell. Houston had a big win over Cass Baumer. Crash has the night off while CJ and Alexandra are still patiently waiting for their match to happen. ~
Did you see how Killa Kali fell like a ton of bricks? I hope I broke a few of his ribs and teeth. Guy talks a big game and thinks he is all tough because he served hard time.
~Alexandra is sitting next to Ed, the two holding hands. Ed looks just as worried as Alexandra does, what did this mean for their budding relationship. Both knew something was wrong with CJ, but now he seemed hyper focused on this feud with Killa Kali. Since Alice had disappeared, he hadn’t been the same, his focus was off. And now, Alexandra could be out of the company for good~
Hey I’m all for you being excited about getting one over on him.. But I really need you to focus, CJ.. this match tonight.. It’s fucking important. I came back to this dressing room, to wait with my teammates before what will possibly be my last match in OCW.. I don’t want to leave.. But I am a woman of my word.. If we lose tonight.. I’m gone.
~CJ looks like he’s about to say something, but Alexandra holds her hand up~
I’m not trying to be an asshole about this. But we all know.. You guys are the only people who want me here. So this is my way of making a choice for everyone.. If we win.. I’ll stay.. I’ll deal with the bullshit.. But if we lose.. I will be destroyed.
~She sat there waiting to see what CJ was going to say. She wasn’t sure they were going to win this. CJ waits to make sure Calaway is done talking. He doesn’t want to be cut off again~
Are you done?
Alexandra goes to answer and CJ returns the favor by cutting her off. This causes her to cross her arms and scowl at him with a small growl, which causes Ed to shudder and clear his throat, placing his hand on her arm.
Good. Alexandra I understand you are a woman of your word but you are not a quitter? Your name is not Mark Storm or Cypher. You do not and will not walk out on your team. You know just how dominant we can be. Sure things haven’t gone exactly as we had planned but that’s life. We adapt. We become stronger. We are one. We are in this fight together.
~Lou coughs, breaking some of the tension as he stands up~
Let’s be honest, how would Paramount fare without their Dark Queen? Miss Calaway, I for one know how vital you are to this team, CJ obviously knows it, and Eddie obviously digs ya. So why don’t we pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, go out there and smack the two shit for brains around a bit. Blow off some steam? I mean, I feel you peo-
Alexandra sat there listening to what he was saying, for some reason. She normally didn’t listen to just anyone.
Lou. Get on with it.
Dammit kid, I’d be done if you hadn’t interrupted me. Look, CJ, Ally. You guys are why we’re all here. You two built this mountain. We’re all here because of you guys. So… Show them what it means to be Paramount. To be the mountain, not just the peak.
You all know I’ve been showing them since day one… But it seems that the more I succeed the more people try to knock me down further.
That’s what comes with success. People wanna watch you fail, by any means neces-
Yeah! Like Britney Spears. People were dunking on her all day.
Exactly! They don’t care about your health when you’re on top. It becomes you against the world, but that’s not the case anymore because you have us. All of us. We are Paramount, the zenith, top fucking shelf, baby.
Alexandra scoffed, shaking her head. She looked at them both, before looking around at everyone. She stood up and spoke.
No one out there gives a shit about any of us. You all saw what they did to Ed.. forgot him like he was old news.. they forgot their hero.. and when you do that.. a hero becomes a villain. Not to mention, both Cypher and Storm have awoken a monster they aren't ready to defeat.
It's very simple Calaway the reason why we clash at times is because we are built for the same cloth. We speak our minds. We don’t give a FOOK who we piss off or hurt. We are also both very stubborn and always want people to see it our way. That is something we both need to work on. However tonight we make a fooking statement. It is the Fourth of July so we light this MOTHA FOOKER up. Cypher and Storm will be our Guinea Pigs. They will feel the wrath of The Dark Queen and The Distinguished. I have your back no matter what the odds Alexandra. It is time for us to show the world just how dangerous we are. This isn’t about PTSD. This isn’t about The Duke’s. This isn’t about accolades. This is about The Paramount coming together as one.
If they think there's any chance that we aren't getting along.. they'll use that to their advantage. They'll focus in on that. If anyone knows Storm well.. Its me. He loves to plant seeds of doubt in peoples minds. Hes highly skilled in mindgames.
Storm is a pussy. He is a coward whenever things get tough he puts his tail between his legs and runs away like a little bitch. You are better off without him and Cypher. They were using you Alexandra. You are better than you give yourself credit for. We will win tonight. I wanna see what excuse they use when they lose.
Sometimes people run when they are confused. Or need to think. It's funny you say they were using me.. they said the same about you CJ.
Yet here I am still. The difference is I’ve been vocal about them. They have done it all behind closed doors which means they are hiding something.
~Alexandra wrapped her arms around herself, trying to think about the things that she knew about Storm. There was very little she could use, other than he had once been an ally, who abandoned her. She had followed him here, loyal to their stable, Heroes for Hire~
Mark is very hush hush about things. I tried to get him to open up when we were working together. He's an enigma, wrapped in a crumbling shell.
They both have skeletons in their closets I think it’s time we expose them and let’s see how they react when they have to play a little defense.
Kinda hard to expose someone's skeletons.. when you don't know what they are.
You know a lot more than you think you do. Let’s focus on this tag match tonight and then we will make it very painful for them. Time to expose them for what they really are … FRAUDS!
Then let's fucking do this..
~ CJ and Alexandra fist bump as both of them look ready for the Main Event tonight. Will this be Calaway’s last match in OCW? Will Alice Knight make a surprise return? Will Cypher leave with the TransAtlantic Championship or will someone steal it? Only one way to find out is to continue watching Massacre…~
Ed Houston (9-4) vs. Cass Baumer (0-1)
~This MSG crowd is on fire for fourth of July. We’ve got random fireworks going off in the crowd. Major fire hazard but the OCW security seems to be living up to their name. Beer is flowing. Corn dogs, funnel cakes, and pulled pork bbq waffle fries are being wolfed down at an alarming rate. It’s MURICA’s birthday. Which means you’re entitled to a massive coronary. Belvedere, center of the ring, clears his throat to a HUGE ovation~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~As the vocals of Queens Of The Stone Age burst through the crackling arena speakers, the crowd stands to their feet when a purple spotlight beams down at the entryway. The camera cuts to the whirling, descending live stream of a camera drone slowly moving down to gradually reveal Cass Baumer with a small controller in her hands. The old-school brawler struts down the aisle in a purple leather jacket over her ring gear until she nears the center of the clearing. She spins and steps backward, spreading her arms with the remote still in her grasp to unashamedly show off the glossy “Clout Chaser” emblem at the back of her distressed coat~
~"Smooth Sailing" continues while Baumer's lips form a triumphant smirk, her head turned to the side 'til she leisurely twirls back when she nears the apron. She stops at the steel steps to survey the crowd with a smile and lands the drone safely on a small landing pad near the timekeeper's area. The camera cuts back to a normal camera operator while the drone shuts down. She follows it up by sliding into the ring. The palpable cheers grow in intensity as she bounces back to her feet and mounts the ropes, raising her fist with pride as she answers the visceral reaction of the crowd with a guttural shout of her own! Then, she dismounts~
Belvedere: From Karori, Wellington, New Zealand, standing 5’9 and weighing in at 141 lbs...Cass Baumer!!!
Jones: Cass Baumer making her Massacre debut!
Hood: She’s going straight for one of our premier stars...wasting no time. She wants to get her hands and tongue on Ed Houston.
Jones: TONGUE?
Hood: Yea, she’s always sticking it out in those photos.
Jones: That’s just her look, Hood.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…
~The screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the arena. You're Gonna Go Far , Kid starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way down the entrance ramp. He stops by fans in the crowd and starts to high five them, but pulls his hand back. He laughs, the crowd boos. Once he gets about half way down the ramp, he sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he glares out into the crowd...a mass of people booing~
Belvedere: From Miami, Florida...standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs...he is a former Paradigm Champion and a 2x Craze Champion...he is The Rocketman...making his return to an OCW ring...he is...Ed Houston!!!
Jones: And there he is, Ed Houston!
Hood: This new attitude suits him. Meyhu didn’t get over by kissing ass. Neither should Ed.
Jones: Houston’s been looking for that breakthrough victory. He’s been stuck in that ‘Craze’ tier forever, it seems. Is this the beginning of his ascension into the main event?
Hood: If so, it’s about time.
~Belvedere exits and the bell rings~
~Puff checks that both are ready the signals for the bell~
~DING DING~
~The OCW Faithful cheers as both competitors immediately lock up in the centre of the ring. Cass gets behind Houston, but Houston immediately swings his elbow back and knocks Cass off, Cass comes back with a hard right before Houston can turn around to face the younger Cass Baumer.~
Jones: Already Houston showing some fist fighting techniques in this match!
Hood: This is Ed Houston, probably the greatest Craze champion we have ever had.
~Houston rubs his index finger around the inside of his cheek, grins as he looks at the bit of blood he pulled out. Houston then grabs Cass by arm and pulls her into a quick Snapmare Suplex! Houston picks Cass up and lifts her into a Military press, he takes a few steps over to the turnbuckle and drops Cass down right onto the top of it.~
Hood: Snap! It seems Houston is taking care of Cass quickly now!
Jones: Love the spunk that Trailer Park Cass brings, but Ed might’ve been the wrong one to challenge here.
~ Houston picks Cass up by the back of her head, and he slams her back down into the mat! He lifts her up again, but as soon as he is about to slam her down Cass stops herself from the top of the turnbuckle, she elbows Houston in the head and backs up a bit, Houston shakes it off and turns to go after Cass, but as soon as he turns, Cass super kicks him right in the chin!!~
Jones: Superkick!
Hood: Man... ANOTHER ONE THAT DOES IT!?!
~Houston charges in at Baumer again, but Baumer moves to the side and Houston goes crashing into the corner. Cass is quick to take a few steps back, before smashing Collins into the corner with a clothesline. Baumer steps back and lets Houston stagger backwards. Cass hooks Ed up in a inverted facelock before driving him down with a reverse DDT! Houston quickly rolls to the outside to give himself space being the veteran in this match as Cass pops up and stares at the man connected to the woman who wrecked her Gameboy Advance and SILVER PHONE. Puff tells Cass to move back as Houston takes his time getting back into the ring. Ed and Tooter McToots lock up again, Baumer pushes Ed into the corner, Houston is able to slip out and start to fire shots at the thighs of Baumer. Cass stumbles back, Ed gets a few steps under him and then jumps on Baumer, to plant his knees on Cass’s chest, but she catches him and drives him back into the mat with quick DDT!!!!~
Jones: Baumer continues to give us reason to consider to join the roster! Better than some of the people we have let in.
Hood: Pfft. Train on the water, Boat on the tracks.
~Houston shouts out in pain and clutches his head. Baumer picks him up and drops him over the ring ropes onto the ring floor! Baumer slides out of the ring and starts to stalk Houston. Baumer is stomping her right foot on the ground waiting for Ed to stagger around. Houston spins around and side steps the Yakuza Kick, but is caught off guard with the following clothesline. Cass slams both fist into the ring apron and rolls Houston back inside. Hashtag Baumer slides back in!~
Hood: Come on, Ed! You going to let this Crop Duster do you dirty?!
~Houston stumbles back and rests against the turnbuckle still on his feet, Cass backs up to the otherside of the ring and runs back at Houston! Cass leaps into the air and drop kicks Houston right over right in the gut, doubling him over as he falls to the mat.~
Jones: Cass showing no signs of giving up tonight!
Hood: She’s tougher than she looks I’ll say!
~Cass brings herself to her feet, fans cheering her on as she moves to Houston and picks him up. Houston fights a bit, he elbows Cass in the gut and then grabs pulls her into a hard DDT!! That causes the ring to shake!!~
Jones: Houston is up once again! He drops Cass with a hard DDT that just rattled our ring!
~Houston picks her up, holding her, Baumer, in a vertical-suplex and keeps her high in the air!! But Cass wiggles out of it! She manages to use her weight to get out of the Suplex, and bring herself down to the ring apron putting the ropes between them! Houston tries again but this time Cass doesn’t go anywhere, instead Cass knees him through the ropes, grabs him by the hair and runs him into the corner turnbuckle! Ed falls stumbles backwards, holding his forehead as Cass does a little dance straight of Alex Wright’s WCW ’97 playbook.~
Jones: Ahha, there is that famous Cass light hearted attitude!
Hood: Well, that’s just stupid!
~ Houston, looks annoyed, reaches over the ropes grabbing the dancing Baumer and flips her over the top rope and the mat shakes violently as Ed had thrown his force into the front of her face bouncing off the mat. She starts to move up and Houston sends a violent right legged thrust kick into her head. She rolls onto her back, wishing she had her SILVER PHONE. Houston points up and the fans go nuts!~
Hood: Looks like Ed has had enough of this shit.
Jones: I think Miss Baumer bit off more than she could chew, Hood.
~Ed, squatting on the top turnbuckle, points up once more as she springs himself up and forward, spinning in the air landing the BLASTOFF(Shooting Star Press). The fans go wild with Boos as The Rocketman hooks her leg. Puff drops down for the count!!!~
1!
2!!
3!!!!!!!!!
~ Ding Ding. ~
Belvedere: Your winner via pinfall... representing OCWs own PARAMOUNT.... ED HOUSTON!!!!
Jones: Ed Houston with a big win!
Hood: Gotta say, Rocketman is looking better than ever!
Jones: Yea, if only he’d break out of Paramount.
Hood: What and return to his LOSING ways? Guy’s hanging with winners which MAKES him a winner. Go Ed!
Jones: Ed Houston triumphs once again! What lays ahead for The Rocketman? I’d imagine a title shot could be in his very immediate future.
~We cut to the catering area where CJ O'Donnell is loading shrimp cocktail on his plate. Suddenly someone bursts through the doors and rushes straight at CJ. It's Killa Kalli!! Kalli blindsides CJ with a forearm, sending CJ down and the shrimp cocktail flying. Kallie puts a boot to the downed CJ before grabbing him and hooking him up in a double handed powerbomb , he lifts him up then send hands crashing through the table. Kalli looks around and finds a loaf of stale French bread. Kali uses the loaf like a golf club and swings at CJ's head. The bread breaks in half. Kali has a sadistic grin on his face as he drags CJ up and brings him over to the Salad Bar. He grabs a handful of Kale and shoves it in CJ's face forcing some of that healthy superfood down his throat. Kali scoops CJ up and slams him through the salad table~
Hood: Sahara Duke is going to be pissed.
Jones: man he just forced him to eat kale. Nobody likes kale.
~Kalli is over at the pasta section. He eyes the lasagna tray. Kalli grabs a handful of lasagna and begins to eat it~
Hood: all that fighting has made him hungry.
Jones: lasagna is an actual superfood. Just ask Garfield.
~Kali smashes the tray over CJ's head. CJ crumples to the floor. He is covered in blood, or maybe it's just tomato sauce. Kali let's out a loud laugh before leaving the area~
Jones: Kali with a cheap shot on CJ!
Hood: The feud continues! Those two went to WAR one week ago inside the Prison Yard. No doubt a proper singles match between the two is on the horizon.
Jones: And for those of you wondering...that was definitely tomato sauce all over CJ. Which, ya know, might annoy him more than blood.
Hood: Yea, he seems like he’ll be just fine for tonight’s Main Event. In fact, he might be ANGRIER than usual. Not good news for Storm and CYPH3R.
Jones: There it is again Hood, EPIC Summer!
Hood: I still don’t understand what this means or why I’m supposed to care.
Jones: If I had to guess, it means something epic is headed to OCW, and it looks as if July 31 is when it will be revealed. Wait a minute Hood, July 31? That’s the same date as our next pay per view, Truth or Consequences. Do you think the epic reveal is going to take place at that event?
Hood: I don’t know, and I honestly don’t care. We have the great Thaddeus Duke running things with his H-O-T hot wife by his side. Jace is Savage Champ, my man CYPH3R is the Transatlantic Champ… it can’t get more epic than that!
Jones: If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’re feeling pretty happy this evening.
Hood: My guys are on top man, it’s a great thing. Nothing can ruin my mood.
~”Here I Go Again” by Whitesnake begins playing over the PA system as the crowd erupts in cheers.~
Hood: I had to open my mouth…
Jones: Amick Dogeron! He’s scheduled to face Easton Alexander later this evening, but I guess he’s decided to join the party a little early.
~The song begins slowly and the fans, who know every word, stand to their feet and begin to sing along.~
“I don't know where I'm going
And I've made up my mind
Here I go again
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’s wearing a bandage around his neck after the brutal strangulation attempt from JPD at Reformation. He joins the crowd in singing as he walks 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 steps between it and the middle on his way to the ring. There he drops to a knee, bows his head, and takes a moment to himself. Then he walks over to the corner and motions for a microphone.~
Hood: Can someone shut this guy up already?
Jones: He hasn’t even said anything yet.
Hood: Well I’ve certainly heard enough.
~Amick grabs the microphone from the staff member. He smiles as he raises it to his mouth.~
Amick: Man, it’s great to be back in Madison Square Garden!
~The crowd bites on the cheap pop. Hood nearly vomits.~
Amick: All week I’ve been getting texts, voicemails, Twitter DMs all asking the same thing. People are wondering how I’m doing after the brutal Savage Championship match at Reformation. Am I ok? Do I have any comments on how JPD stole the victory from me?
~The crowd boos at the mere mention of JPD’s name.~
Amick: I get it guys, I really do. But I’m not here to talk about Jace at all. And as far as my neck goes, it’s healing as quickly as you would expect.
~Amick pauses for a second.~
Jones: It’s good to hear that Amick is getting better.
Hood: I honestly thought Jace was going to kill him with that Amish dude’s hair. It was brilliant!
Amick: It has been a pretty rough week. I took the loss hard at first, but I got some pretty good advice from an old friend that put some things in perspective for me. Being back here in NYC—
~Another cheap pop.~
Amick: Being back here I got a chance to hang with my daughter—
~The crowd pops loudly for Sarah. A few cat calls can be heard from the front row.~
Amick: Watch it!
~He pauses to regroup as the crowd laughs.~
Amick: But you guys aren’t here to listen to me ramble about the past, you’re here to watch me beat Easton Alexander into oblivion.
~The crowd cheers but there is a mixture of boos scattered throughout.~
Jones: The crowd still seems to favor Dogeron in this contest, but you can clearly hear the Alexander fans showing their support.
Hood: They could drop an atomic bomb in the ring as soon as they both get in and we’d all be better off.
~Amick waits for the noise to die down, then continues.~
Amick: It’s cool, I understand. Easton is as scrappy as they come. He’s a heck of a fighter and I know I’m about to get everything he has to give… and more.
~Amick turns to face the camera directly.~
Amick: The thing is, Dragon, I don’t plan on losing again for a very long time. Your problem is you run your mouth a too much, and it’s likely why you’ve got a slew of OCW superstars lining up to take you out. But Easton, I’m not one of them. You can come at me with all the curses you want. Bring your little protege into the mix and have her call me a stepping stone. It really doesn’t make any difference to me whatsoever. I’m going to beat you tonight. I am going to stand across the ring from you and take every single piece of offense you’ve got in our arsenal and I’m still going to be standing. And then Easton, then you’re going to get the full brunt of what Amick Dogeron has to offer, and it’s not going to end well for you, at all. You will be beaten, you will be battered, and you will be left motionless in this ring with literally nothing left to give. That’s when I’ll pick you up off the mat, hook your arms, hit you with your finish, and beat you with the Dogeron Driver 98 for the 1…2…3.
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”
~Maniac By Carpenter Brut hits as the light's start to move around the stadium, finally settling in a spot light on the ramp. Easton Alexander walks into the light looking straight into it, he removes his hood as sparks begin to fall behind him, deflecting off his shoulders~
Belvedere: From North bay Ontario Canada, He is The Canadian Dragon... EASTON ALEXANDER.
~Easton steps up into the ramp, and climbs the stairs. He pauses on the apron, taking in the crowd’s cheers. He nods, appreciating and feeding off the energy. He steps through the ropes, carefully...his midsection is taped pretty heavily, protecting those ribs...while also making them a target. Easton enters the ring and looks at Amick, who still has the mic in his hand~
Jones: And Easton is out here! We’re about to have our match!
Hood: Amick is gonna hit him with that mic. He’s turning over a new leaf...dude’s gonna dip down into JPD’s level of depravity to be successful.
Jones: I hope not! Amick’s our Face of the Month. We need heroes, Hood. Not villains.
Hood: Meh, Zybala is face enough for an entire roster.
~The air is thick with tension. Easton looks at Amick. He looks at the mic in his hand, wondering what Amick is going to do. Amick grips and re-grips the handle of the mic before tossing it out of the ring...it hits with a loud ‘THUD’ over the PA. The fans go wild. Easton nods, appreciating Amick for doing the right thing. Scruff calls for the bell...it sounds and we’re underway~
Jones: Alright! Amick getting rid of the weapon. He’s going to do this the right way!
Hood: Fuckin lame.
Jones: It may be easier to cheat, Hood. But it does not prepare you for the wars to come.
Hood: Bullshit. If he wants another Savage Title shot then he’s gotta get dirty. That entire championship is built around blood and weapons and mayhem.
~Easton and Amick measure each other up. Amick ducks and moves, looking for a waist lock, but Easton side steps Amick. Amick turns around and Easton snares him with a lock up. The two push and pull, each man trying to gain leverage. Easton immediately snares a side head lock...Amick hits him in the ribs. Easton yells out, losing his grip. Amick hits the ropes...he bounces off but Easton throws a shoulder into him, slamming him back into the canvas. Amick hits hard. Easton backs up, he leans into the ropes, shoots off and stomps on Amick’s chest~
Jones: Easton’s got to be careful with those ribs. No heavy lifting. Smooth maneuvers.
Hood: Why didn’t he just let The Knife Man shoot him up with a bunch of pain killers before coming out here? Sheesh. THINK, man.
Jones: Because it’d be unhealthy and a catalyst for further damage to his already injured midsection.
Hood: Man you sound like such a pussy.
~Amick rolls over, onto all fours...Easton boots him in the ribs, kicking him onto his back. Easton then drops down, placing a knee into Amick’s neck, keeping the man down while punishing his neck and spine. Scruff asks Amick if he wants to give it up, but Amick refuses. The knee never comes close to the throat, making it a clean and effective attack. Amick throws a leg back and he manages to catch Easton in the face! Easton rises and stumbles back. Amick kips up and spins around...Easton is in a corner. Amick runs in...but Easton moves!! Amick slams hard into the corner and staggers backwards...Easton grabs him by the head and drops him with a neckbreaker!! Amick hits hard and immediately reaches for his neck. Easton sits up, wincing and grabbing at his ribs~
Jones: Easton is working on Amick’s neck while trying to fight through the pain of his own ribs.
Hood: Smart move. I mean Easton may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer but the guy is a savant once that bell rings.
Jones: Yep, if he can successfully maneuver around the obvious liability that is his midsection and win this match...we might need to start talking about Easton as a main event player in OCW.
Hood: No doubt.
~Easton returns to his feet...he doubles over for a second, catching his breath. Cracked ribs means less agility and less stamina. Amick gets to one knee, head bowed, rubbing and holding his neck. Easton charges in and he kicks Amick right in the side of the neck!! Huge impact!! Amick rolls to the side, through the middle and bottom ropes and onto the apron. He sprawls out on his back, left arm and leg hanging off the apron...slowly his right arm raises up, holding his neck. Easton drops to one knee, holding his midsection~
Jones: It’s painful watching Easton trying to work in there. He should have probably been given the week off.
Hood: He’s Canadian. He probably wanted to show up on AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE DAY to promote some Canadian pride or whatever.
Jones: I doubt very much that was the catalyst for his decision to wrestle tonight. I think he’s just a staunch competitor.
Hood: Yea well he’s about to have a staunch medical bill by being stupid.
~Easton returns to his feet and reaches the ropes...he leans through the top and middle, grabbing Amick by the neck and pulling him to his feet. Easton stands upright...Amick suddenly leans forward, throwing his shoulder into Easton’s midsection through the ropes!!! Easton stumbles back, holding his ribs. Amick grabs onto the top rope...he rotates his neck back and forth...he leaps up and springboards off with a flying forearm...BAM! Right into Easton’s head!!! Easton falls flat on his back with a huge thud! The crowd cheers!! Amick gets to his knees...he’s wincing, reaching for his neck. Easton is down, a bit dazed~
Jones: Tremendous flurry of offense by Dogeron! Easton’s in trouble now.
Hood: Abdominal stretch, let’s go!
Jones: I don’t think he’d exploit the injury THAT egregiously.
Hood: Oh fuck off. He wants to win just as bad as anybody else. He’ll do what he must. Just like JPD.
Jones: A dirty word in the Dogeron household
~Easton tries sitting up, but his ribs are in too much pain...so he rolls over. Amick gets to his feet, holding his neck. He snatches Easton by the hair, bringing him to one knee...Easton reaches up, grabs Amick’s head and jerks it forward! Amick stumbles back, holding his neck. Easton gets to his feet and he runs forward with a lariat, taking Amick to the mat!! Amick flops on the mat, holding his neck...the pain increasing as the resolve weakens. He rolls onto all fours, trying to get to his feet...but Easton is there, snaring him in a front face lock. Easton, on one knee, works Amick’s head and neck. Scruff leans in, checking on Amick...checking on the hold~
Jones: A clean hold that could render a submission.
Hood: Easton out here trying to break everybody’s neck. Fuckin hell.
Jones: He hasn’t broken a single neck yet, Hood.
Hood: Only because the great and wise Thad banned his neck breaking move.
~Easton wrenches and twists and tortures. Amick places both hands on the mat to keep from face planting...his body is losing energy. Scruff pats him on the back, checking to see if Amick is still with us. Easton twists Amick’s neck violently. Amick yells out and he rises up! He charges forward and he SLAMS Easton into the corner! Amick’s shoulder burying into Easton’s ribs!! Easton hangs forward in the corner, his right arm holding his midsection. Amick stumbles back, dropping to one knee, holding his neck~
Jones: Easton has done a great job weakening a vital part of Amick’s body...but those ribs. They seem to be a hurdle too high to overcome.
Hood: That’s right, talk the Canadian into quitting. It’s their nature!
Jones: It is not! They are a very proud and powerful people!
Hood: LOL!
~Easton coughs...he straightens up, clearly fighting through the pain. He marches toward Amick...Amick remains on one knee. Amick quickly fires forward with a punch into Easton’s ribs!! Easton is staggered. Amick rises, holding his neck. He throws a side kick into Easton’s ribs! Easton yells, stumbling to the side and into the ropes. Amick throws a knife edged chop into Easton’s ribs, causing the proud Canadian to drop to his knees, near the ropes. He falls to all fours, clutching at his ribs with his left hand. Amick takes off...he hits the ropes, he bounces off and he dives forward with a dropkicked aimed at Easton’s ribs! But Easton moves!!! Amick flies through the ropes...the back of his head catches the edge of the apron on his way down, outside the ring!! He hits the ground hard, instantly clutching at his neck and curling up, kicking at the ground in pain~
Jones: Oh my gosh! We might need to check on Amick after that. That looked brutal.
Hood: Fuckin Canadian...you see how he tricked Amick and then dove out of the way like a coward?
Jones: A coward? He’s trying to win the match!
Hood: Canadians are cowards. Confirmed.
~Scruff yells “ONE!” Amick remains down. Easton is seated in a corner, holding his ribs. Both wrestlers appear worse for wear but, somehow, Amick seems to be in more pain than Easton. Credit to Easton. Scruff yells, “TWO!” He pauses then yells “THREE!” Amick isn’t making an effort to improve his position. Scruff yells, “FOUR!” Easton, like Amick, is in no hurry to move, holding his ribs in the corner. Scruff yells, “FIVE!”~
Jones: I think Easton is just fine winning this thing via countout given the physical circumstances.
Hood: Cowardly Canadian. Let it be said, Canadians always take the easy way out!
Jones: No. That will not be said. Because it’s not true.
Hood: You know how American’s play hockey? In their bare feet. Canadians? They have to use skates...because they skate the rules...they take the easy way out. Boo the Canadians!
~Scruff yells “SIX!” Neither man improves their position. Scruff yells, “SEVEN!” The fans at ringside lean over and yell at Amick to get up! They don’t want a countout. Count outs suck! They urge Amick to get up and get back into the ring. Scruff yells, “EIGHT!” Easton looks on from his corner, up at Scruff. Scruff yells, “NINE!” Easton’s expression changes, a slight hint of relief begins to wash over him. Scruff throws his hands into the air and yells...wait, no! Amick dives into the ring, breaking up the count right before ten! The fans go wild! Easton shakes his head, looking at Amick with respect while frustrated that he’s got to continue to fight through the pain. Amick struggles, trying to get to his feet...Easton pops up and he runs toward him, looking to hit a Swinging Neck Breaker...but Amick rips free, spinning behind Easton, picking him up and driving his ribs across his knee with a modified back breaker! Call it a RIB breaker! Easton yells out in pain, hitting the mat, holding his ribs. Amick drops to one knee, holding his neck~
Jones: Amick beats the count and he avoids a devastating neck breaker only to ‘break’ the ribs of Easton!
Hood: AMERICA! Yea! Here we go! The fight and the spirit of an AMERICAN
Jones: Please don’t turn this into some Canada vs America thing.
Hood: America! FUCK YEA!
~Easton gets to all fours, fighting like hell through his pain...the broken ribs. The fans rally behind the Canadian, even though it’s THE FOURTH OF JULY. They admire his fight and fire. Amick looks up, wincing...he sees Easton fighting back...so he dives forward from one knee with a double axe handler into Easton’s ribs! Easton falls to the mat! Amick stays over him, on one knee, punching and pounding away on Easton’s ribs. Amick is so incensed that he starts to rip the bandaging away from Easton’s midsection. A few fans yell at Amick to stop, but he won’t relent~
Jones: Amick is really focusing on those ribs now...I’m shocked, I gotta say.
Hood: Fuck off. He’s doing what he has to. The AMERICAN way.
Jones: It just seems a little…
Hood: Savage? Yea, I thought so.
~Amick rips and pulls and gets all the bandaging off of Easton revealing a very badly bruised midsection...purple, pink, dark red...the visual speaks for itself. Fans groan and begin to really worry for Easton. Amick tosses the wrappings out of the ring and he rears back and he PUNCHES Easton right in the middle of the bruising, the discoloration. He does it again and again...he looks up at Scruff, “ASK HIM!” Scruff asks Easton if he wants to quit but the fighting canuck yells, “NO!” So, Amick keeps punching him~
Jones: C’mon, Amick! Lay off his ribs!
Hood: Compassion? Letting your foot off the gas pedal? That’s how he lost to JPD...TWICE
Jones: He only lost to JPD once. They tied the first time.
Hood: Pssh...a tie might be worse than a loss, if we’re being honest.
~Amick returns to his feet, finished punching Easton in the heart of his wound. Easton is face down, slowly moving...pain riddled throughout his body. Amick snares Easton by the hair, pulling him to his feet...he then quickly transitions into an Abdominal Stretch!!! He takes his hand and slaps it into Easton’s ribs, gripping and grabbing at them. Easton yells out...the fans yell and scream, trying to get Amick to let him go. But, Amick is focused...he’s determined NOT to let this one get away. Scruff leans in, “C’mon, Easton! If the pain is too much, let me know! I can ring the bell!” Easton shakes his head, “Get out of my face!” he yells back at Scruff. Scruff is like, ‘Okay, your body, not mine.’~
Jones: Easton making it abundantly clear that he will not quit. The man is not a quitter.
Hood: Are we sure he’s Canadian? He seems kinda American to me.
Jones: He’s a full blooded Canadian, Hood.
Hood: Hmm, maybe he was BORN here and then got smuggled across the border. No Canadian is this tough.
~Easton’s head hangs. The life has been wrenched and twisted out of him. His arms are lifeless. Scruff comes in and lifts one up. It drops. “ONE!” Scruff yells out. He lifts it up again and drops it...”TWO!” he yells out. The fans stomp and clap, urging Easton to wake up~
Jones: If that arm drops a third time this match is over.
Hood: Ah, there’s the Canadian blood. He fell asleep on the job.
Jones: He did not!
~Scruff grabs Easton’s arm...he lifts it up and he drops it...but Easton holds the arm up!!! The fans go wild!! Easton shakes the arm, firing up...his eyes open...he lifts his head and he reaches back, grabbing Amick by the head...he twists on the neck before flipping Amick over with a snapmare!!! The fans go wild! Cheering for a Canadian on the 4th of July!!! Amick hits hard, landing on his ass and leaning forward, holding his neck. Easton fires up, the adrenaline numbing the pain in his ribs. He heads forward, grabbing Amick by the neck and pulling him up. He spins Amick around and punches him in the mask...once, twice, three times! The fans count along, going wild~
Jones: These fans have come unglued for Easton! His fighting spirit has won them over!
Hood: What did we put in the drinks? These people are delirious!
Jones: I don’t think so, Hood. I think Easton is just that easy to root for!
~Easton starts to whip Amick off the ropes, but he lifts a knee into Amick’s midsection, doubling Dogeron over. He hooks both of Amick’s arms. Scruff warns Easton against using Dragon Driver 98! Easton yells, “I KNOW!”~
Jones: Easton’s going for Cursed Night! A move that is setup almost identical to Dragon Driver 98!
Hood: Yea, Scruff got confused…or is just worried about Easton going against Mr. Duke’s wishes.
Jones: MR. Duke. Look at you.
Hood: Hey, he’s my boss. I respect the chain of command.
~On the tron, MR. Duke himself, majority owner of OCW is shown walking through the Gorilla Position. Leo, the twitter intern is sitting nearby and the two exchange a high five before Thad exits to the entrance stage causing a roar from the crowd.
THAD: Stop, stop, stop!
~Easton looks from the ring toward Thad, dropping Amick to the mat in the process.
HOOD: He’s not having it tonight!
JONES: Easton Alexander was just about to put Dogeron away!
THAD: Easton, I’m glad I have your attention. See, you’ve been begging me to unban your Dragon Driver and I told you I’d think about it. I told you that I’d take it into consideration and I’d talk to you about it tonight.
JONES: Unban the move, Thad! Do the right thing!
HOOD: How is it the right thing, Jones!? He damn near broke Alexandra Calaway’s neck!
THAD: So Easton, here’s what I’ve decided. If you win tonight, meaning if you defeat Amick Dogeron here tonight, LIVE on Massacre! LIVE from…
~He points the mic toward the crowd.
OCW Crowd: NEW! THAD! CITY!!!
JONES: Marks.
HOOD: Obviously dumbass.
THAD: Then I will unban the Dragon Driver.
~Easton looks happy at the statement from the boss and turns around. Amid the elongated distraction from Thaddeus Duke, Amick Dogeron was able to recover and boots Easton Alexander in the ribs.
JONES: Oh no!
HOOD: OH YEAAAHHHHHH!
JONES: DRAGON DRIVER 98!
HOOD: From Dogeron to Alexander!
~Alexander is planted with his own move...Dragon Driver 98!!! Amick makes the cover and hooks the leg.
1
2
3!!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner….AMICK DOGERON!!!!!
JONES: What a miscarriage of justice!
~Thad smiles on stage and chuckles to himself.
THAD: Easton, that’s really unfortunate. What a truly disastrous outcome. Looks like the Dragon Driver 98 will remain banned for the foreseeable future.
~Thad takes his leave back through the curtain.
~The OCWtron lights back up, and John Nash Strader is leaning against the wall, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. The camera pans to the locker room that has “Paramount” on the door, and the big man smiles as Who’re is walking by. She stops, walks backwards and stops in front of the Strader male and twirls her hair looking at him.~
Who’re: Don’t think I know you…
JNS: I’m John, and who might you be?
Who’re: Very nice to meet you, John. I’m Who’re.
JNS: Whore?
Who’re: No no, “hoo-errr”.
~ John smirks as he takes a drag.~
JNS: Well, nice to meet you, Who’re.
~ She smiles widely as she leans in, smelling him, and she shivers. He raises his brow at her boldness.~
JNS: Are you an interviewer by chance?
~ She winks. ~
Who’re: I’m whatever you want me to be.
JNS: Ha, I’ll be sure to remember that. Say, why don’t you get this breaking scoop since you are here?
Who’re: Sure, anything you want, lover…
~John shakes his head with a smile as he knocks on the locker room door. The fans pop when CJ O’DONNELL answers the door. He looks pleasantly surprised.~
CJ O’Donnell: John Nash Strader, my man. Haven’t seen you in a long time? How is it fooking going?
Who’re: Wait, you are the Craze Champions little brother?!
~John’s head slowly turns to look at her, and while he has a bit of a smile, he doesn’t look overly impressed.~
JNS: Twin brother. Not much, CJ. Say, I was just curious. Do you have a partner for the Margarita Mix?
Who’re: You are the mystery Strader in the Margarita Mix?!
~ CJ looks at Who’Re who has interrupted him before he could answer the question. He looks like he wants to backhand her like a pimp does when a hoe gets out of line. ~
JNS: What, did you think it was my niece Cara? Talented girl, but she still thinks she works for APWO.
CJ O'Donnell: Anyway before I was so rudely interrupted.
~Who’Re just smiles flipping her hair as she completely ignores CJ and is staring at John. ~
CJ O’Donnell: To answer your question, no, I don’t.
~ John lets loose the Strader Family Sneer as the fans cheer.~
JNS: Well, how about we go win a tournament and kick the FOOK out of each other after for a OCW title shot?
CJ O'Donnell: Sounds like a FOOK of a plan to me!
~ The fans pop for one of the first team announcements the men do a bro-hand-shake as John and CJ head into the Paramount Locker and Who’re sneaks in behind them.~
Jones: Wow, Hood! This is one hell of a team!
Hood: One at 5’5 and the other at 6’5 they have the low and high ground!
Jones: CJ is not 5’5, Hood.
~It was the usual scene in OCW catering. Busy. While workers laid out and refilled the various ‘popular’ sections of the spread, the talent had their fill. The popcorn shrimp was quite popular. Security had a heavy presence in this particular area; insurance against random fights breaking out, which would occur for multitudinous reasons. Amongst the commotion, there she was. The new mainstay of catering. Sahara. The real Sahara. That’s where you’d usually find her chatting it up with the few friends she had on the roster. Others just gave her the side eye, mostly out of resentment. The boss's spoiled wife. While they busted their asses out there in the ring, she did nothing other than cut a promo – if even that – all while eating all the best stuff out of catering before any of the actual talent had a chance…
SAHARA: Soooo good, right?!
~The random OCW catering girl that had refilled the popcorn shrimp smiled and nodded at the blonde, whose cheeks were puffed full of that delectable shrimp. The girl leaned in–
RANDOM CATERING GIRL: I thought that thing you did with Cypher earlier was funny–
~Popping another shrimp into her mouth, Sahara nodded and smiled, but she was mostly focused on the food.
RANDOM CATERING GIRL: Congratulations, by the way!
~Queue that confused bunny look as she looked up at the catering girl. Sahara’s mouth was full, but she somehow got the words out–
SAHARA: Congratulations for whut?
RANDOM WORKER: The uh, pregnancy?
~Sahara’s eyes widened as she stared daggers at this poor girl. She looked down at her figure and as she raised her head, her eyes literally seemed to darken with anger. The mainstay of catering turned and spit her food into a 55 gallon drum. Not sure it was even a garbage can, but it was now.
SAHARA: What did you say to me?!
~The girl stammered.
CATERING GIRL: I-I-I th-thought you were expecting c-cuz yo-you never wrestle and you’re always in c-catering and earlier it looked… it looked like they were finding a funny way to w-write you out of the mixer thing–
~Having heard enough, Sahara stuck her open palm in the girl's face as a call for silence. The room had quieted as random workers and talent alike stared at the unfolding scene. Random snickers and muffled laughter filled the air. Sahara’s jaw clenched as a vein in her forehead pulsated with rage. Shoving her plate of food at the catering girl, Sahara Duke stormed toward the bathroom, fully embarrassed. The laughter got even louder.
~Next to the catering area, she practically kicked the bathroom door off its hinges and screamed ‘GET OUT!’ as a few randoms scurried the hell out of there. The door slammed and locked, but the walls were thin enough to hear her blood curdling scream. It was but a few moments later you could hear a loud gag, and she threw up the catering that had obviously ballooned her figure to the point someone mistook her as pregnant. She cannot even get pregnant, which in her mind only made matters worse. When the bathroom door finally opened again, Sahara Duke emerged while wiping her mouth. She held her head high as she strolled past the catering area. She stopped dead in her tracks, but didn’t give anyone milling about a second look. Her words dripped with venom…
SAHARA: You’ll all wish I had stayed in catering…
Jones: I can't believe it.
Hood: I know, the audacity. NOBODY talks to Sahara like that.
Jones: I'm flabbergasted. She's going to actually WRESTLE
Hood: You keep it up, Smith wannabe. Sahara's gonna smack those lips right off your face.
Jones: That would be quite painful.
Hood: And how I'd laugh and laugh and laugh.
Jones: Hold on...
Hood: What?
Jones: Is that a Tiara being hung on a pole in the ring?
Hood: Oh for fuck's sake. ZYBALA!!!!
Jones: It looks like we're about to be treated to a match or a segment or...something. Straight from the mind of the one, the only...Mike Zybala
~We cut back to the ring just in time to see the ring crew setting up a pole in one of the corners. On the pole, a Tiara is being attached. Somewhere, Vince Russo is smiling and calling someone "bro."~
Hood: I can't believe that we actually have to sit through this…
Jones: Call this a rare occasion, but I actually agree with you.
Hood: This all started when Zybala asked on our public forum if anyone wanted to be his partner and Dylan said yes. That should have been it. That should have been ENOUGH!
Jones: It wasn't though. Someone actually told Zybala to ask Dylan "to the dance" and things snowballed from there.
Hood: For all the changes The Duke's are making, why can't they reign in Zybala and his idiot ideas??
~Fozzy’s Watch Me Shine hits the speakers and the OCW Faithful stand to welcome Dylan and Lissandra Thomas. The Thomas’s walk out hand in hand and the first thing that people notice is Dylan’s ring attire. Well, except Hood~
Jones: Um….why is Dylan in a suit?
Hood: LISSANDRA is out here looking beautiful as always and you’re focusing on Dylan?! Are you gay, Jones?
Jones: No, but Dylan is the one in the match.
~Dylan is dressed in a black suit, white shirt and black tie. Meanwhile Lissandra is in a flowing snow white dress. The Thomas’s are all smiles as they make their way to the ring. Dylan gets into the ring while Lissandra gets some microphones from Belvedere and hands one to Dylan.~
Lissandra: OK Mike…. If you wanna do this, we’re ready…
Dylan: You know I’m gonna beat you. I would appreciate no suit rips though…. I like this suit.
~“Dream Weaver" hits the speakers and the cheers get louder. Mike Zybala walks out, free of crutches or a wheelchair, and does a little jig on the stage to show his leg is better. He too is wearing a suit, but much different than Dylan's.~
Hood: What the hell is he wearing?!
Jones: It looks like a suit.
Hood: I can see that! What is that weird design though?
Jones: It looks like it's the original Green Ranger design…
~Jones is correct! While it is a suit, the jacket and pants look like a green Power Ranger costume. The shirt is the same color green and the tie is designed to look like the gold chest shield. Zybala does a slow spin to show this fashion choice off before walking down the ramp. He high fives fans along the way before he rolls in the ring. Zybala walks up to Lissandra, gently grabs her hand and gives the top a kiss as he bows like a gentleman. He then turns to Dylan and gives him a curtsy. Dylan smiles and rolls his eyes.~
Hood: Even a broken leg wasn't enough to make this goof take anything seriously.
Jones: Come on, that's part of his charm.
Hood: The only charm I want is a lucky one that goes in my cereal bowl!
~Belvedere and Lissandra leave the ring as the music stops. Were there any introductions? Who cares? Scruff checks both wrestlers before signaling for the bell. The match is underway! Zybala and Dylan circle each other, looking for and opening. Zybala attempts to go for a lock up, but Dylan backs away, holding his arms across his chest, protecting the suit. Zybala backs off, respecting the clothes. Dylan takes this opportunity to try to lock up with Zybala, who backs away just like Dylan did! Both men clearly don't want to ruin a nice suit. Dylan looks at Zybala with a shrug. He balls his fist, asking ‘do I hit you?’~
Hood: Oh come on! Somebody DO something! Jeez, Dylan of old would have broken Zybala’s ankle by now!
Jones: True, but Dylan is not that guy anymore. Him and Zybala have developed a lot of respect for each other.
Hood: You mean he became a pussy.
Jones: You mean something that is extremely tough and durable and can take a lot of punishment and still keep going? Then yes, both of them are pussies.
Hood: Fuck you and your PC culture…
~Zybala shrugs and tells Dylan to go ahead and try. Dylan swings, half assed because it's a real nice suit. Zybala catches the fist, and puts Dylan in a very gentle arm bar. He too doesn't wanna ruin such fine clothing. Zybala makes sure to carefully move Dylan's sleeve up just a bit so he can grab Dylan's wrist and not wrinkle the jacket sleeve. Dylan nods his appreciation and starts to sell the hold.~
Dylan: Fuck…. Uh….
~Dylan then very carefully moves his leg behind Zybala’s, being careful not to wrinkle Zybala’s suit trousers and very gently trips Zybala. Dylan then lifts the trousers up to above the knee, slowly and locks in a very weak leg lock. Lissandra is on the outside loving every second of the ‘match’.~
Hood: How can Lissie endorse this bullshit?
Jones: It’s called having fun, Hood. Lighten up.
Hood: Fuck off.
~Zybala is screaming in agony! He's shouting stuff like "my bad leg!" Dylan almost releases the hold, not wanting to hurt his friend, but stops when he notices a very obvious wink from Zybala. Dylan laughs as he "tightens" the hold. Scruff asks Zybala if he wants to quit, to which Zybala shouts 'never"! Zybala sits up and reaches down to his free leg, unties his shoelaces and pulls off the shoe. He then lays back gently and lifts his shoeless foot to "kick" Dylan away from him. Dylan sells the kick as he releases Zybala's leg and stumbles away. Zybala quickly grabs his shoe and puts it back on. Seeing Dylan "wobbly", Zybala hits the ropes, only to be stopped by Lissandra, who reaches under the ropes and grabs Zybala’s foot! Zybala turns and looks at her, confused~
Zybala: What the hell, Lissie!?!
Lissandra: Your shoe is untied!
~Zybala looks down and his shoe is indeed untied! He thanks Lissandra as he bends down and ties up the loose laces. He flashes her a thumbs up and stands to face Dylan, who was on his phone looking at text messages. Dave Branson had said hello again. Zybala loudly clears his throat and Dylan looks up, startled. He puts the phone away and starts acting woozy again to a big cheer from the crowd.~
Hood: Oh Jesus Wept!
Jones: Lighten up, Hood. With all the crap going on in the world, it's nice that these two are trying to provide our fans with a little levity.
Hood: People tune into wrestling for action! The people wanna feel good, let them masturbate like the rest of us.
Jones: HOOD! It's a family show!
Hood: Fuck that. We have people doing drugs and murdering people all the time. We haven't been a family show since Bifford met Scott Syren.
~Zybala "charges" at Dylan and hits him with a clothesline that wouldn't knock over Gilbert! Dylan takes the blow, but doesn't fall! Zybala looks shocked and hits the ropes again. He runs back at Dylan with another clothesline, but this one has less effect! Dylan looks like this one actually cleared his head. Zybala runs at the ropes and hits clothesline number three, but Dylan tanks the blow again! He tells Zybala "Thank you sir! May I have another!" Zybala contorts his face in pretend rage and hits the ropes a fourth time. As he runs at Dylan, The A-Lister catches Zybala, lifts him up and drops him to the mat with the weakest looking spinebuster you have ever seen. Zybala sells it like he got nailed by Arn Anderson!~
~Dylan then whispers into Zybala ‘y’alright?’ to which Zybala responds with a nod and another wink. Dylan is about to hit Zybala with another move but he notices dust on Zybala’s jacket. He gasps and whispers about it so Dylan runs into the ropes, perhaps looking for an elbow drop? Giving Zybala enough time to shake the dust off of the sleeve. Zybala tries to get the dust off but it won't leave his sleeve. Zybala panics until Lissandra calls his name. He looks to see her holding a lint brush. She tosses it to Zybala, who uses it to make his sleeve pristine once more. He lays back down and gives Dylan a thumbs up. Dylan nods and proceeds to hit Zybala with an elbow that if it was any slower, Dylan would be moving in reverse! Dylan covers Zybala, but Scruff shakes his head "no." The ref points at the Tiara on the pole~
Jones: Dylan got so caught up in the heat of the action that he forgot all about the tiara!
Hood: What action?? I've seen golf games more exciting than this, and golf is boring as fuck!
Jones: A lot of people actually enjoy golf, just like the majority of fans are enjoying this match!
Hood: Shut up, Not Smith!
~Dylan gets up off of Zybala and walks to the corner with the pole. Zybala rolls over and, making sure to reach under the pant leg, grabs Dylan's ankle. Dylan turns to "kick" Zybala’s hand away before heading back to his prize. Zybala gets to his feet and grabs Dylan by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him. Zybala is about to strike Dylan with the lint brush, but stops as he looks at Dylan's jacket. Zybala runs the brush over the front of his jacket and smoothes out the smallest of wrinkles. Dylan says his thanks before Zybala boops him on the head with the lint brush!! Dylan sells this like a chair shot and drops to the mat carefully. The fans cheer as Zybala starts posing and pandering to them~
Hood: My fucking God. REALLY?!!
Jones: Hey. Lint brushes can be deadly in the right hands. I hope Dylan is OK. He may not come back from this.
Hood: Give me a Goddamn break…….
~Dylan begins to slowly roll onto his stomach as he slowly lifts his head to see where Zybala is. Zybala is nearing the tiara so Dylan scrambles to his feet and runs over to Zybala, tapping him on the shoulder. Zybala turns around and to Dylan’s surprise, Zybala actually gestures to the tiara and says ‘after you’. Shocked, Dylan insists ‘no, no please Mike…. After you’. This goes on for a good five minutes~
Hood: ARE THEY EVEN TRYING TO WIN ANYMORE??!!!!
Jones: It’s nice to see that there’s still sportsmanship in the sport of pro-wrestling.
Hood: I am so gonna fuck you up for this.
Jones: ME?! What did I do?!
Hood: I’ll think of something.
~As the fans begin to boo this display of politeness, the speakers crackle to life with "The Time of My Life" from Dirty Dancing. Zybala looks at Dylan. Dylan looks back at Zybala. Lissandra is trying not to bust a gut laughing. Zybala bows to Dylan and the pair start doing a perfect rendition of the final dance. The audience clap in rhythm to the music as the two superstars show that wrestling isn't their only talent. Hood swears loudly as he rips off his headset and storms off. Jones can be seen clapping along with the crowd. Zybala backs away from Dylan before running in. Dylan lifts Zybala over his head in the classic move from the movie!~
~Dylan then places Zybala back down and dusts off his frenemy’s jacket~
Dylan: Sorry about that…
~The OCW Faithful go nuts. Jones and Lissandra clap the feat of strength and dexterity. Hood….well, fuck knows where Hood has got to. Dylan and Zybala then bow to the OCW Faithful. Noticing that Dylan is distracted, Zybala quickly runs over to the pole. He climbs up the turnbuckle and grabs the Tiara! He then hops down and holds up the Tiara behind Dylan. Lissandra yells at Dylan to watch out behind him, and when he turns around, Zybala "blasts" him in the head (he barely taps him) with the Tiara!! Dylan falls to the mat as the crowd boos a now taunting Zybala!~
Jones: What the hell?!?! Did Zybala turn on Dylan? This has got to be the first time Zybala has ever been booed!
~Dylan then begins to stand up, looking at Zybala wondering just what the hell happened….~
Dylan: Damn man! What the hell?
~Dylan holds his head. Zybala starts to play up to the crowd who are booing louder now. Hood also returns to the broadcast booth~
Hood: What happened?
Jones: Zybala hit Dylan with the tiara!
Hood: You mean something actually happened in this shit show and I missed it?
Jones: Yes, but for all intents and purposes, TECHNICALLY Mike Zybala has won the match!
Hood: FFS!
~Dylan then points at Zybala Hulk Hogan style and the Faithful begin to cheer again. Zybala punches at Dylan with no effect. He even gets Dylan to wave a finger at him like Hogan used to as if to say "No, no Mike. You done goofed." Zybala starts to panic and steps back. He launches forward with a SUPERKICK straight at Dylan, who catches it with his face! But fret not, dear fan, for The A-Lister is completely unphased! Zybala tosses to the Tiara to Lissandra, and then tries pointing at her, as if to say that she did everything. Dylan turns to Lissandra as the fans start chanting NO! Dylan turns and walks towards Lissie as if he believes Zybala, who attacks Dylan from behind with a flurry of forearms. Dylan just turns around, looking angry and breathing heavily! We can almost hear "Real American" playing in our souls! Dylan lays into Zybala with several "heavy" right hands before whipping his foe into the ropes. Zybala bounces back into a big boot from Dylan! Not since Shawn Michaels has someone oversold this move with such vigor! Zybala crashes to the mat and Dylan hits the ropes and bounces off towards Zybala. He leaps in the air and lands down on Zybala with an Atomic Leg Drop!!~
Jones: I feel like we should know where this sequence originates but I just can’t place it.
Hood: Did Dylan really just believe that Lissandra would attack him?
Jones: Nah, I don’t think so, he’s just playing a role. Like someone from Hollywood!
Hood: Shut up. Anyway, is it over?
Jones: Technically.
Hood: THANK FUCK FOR THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!
~Dylan then helps Zybala back up and the two hug as Lissandra climbs in, putting the tiara on Zybala’s head~
Dylan: OK OK…..that’s enough fun. So Mike……will you be my partner for the Margarita Mix?
Zybala: No.
~The crowd gasps and Dylan and Lissandra look shocked. Zybala then takes off the crown and places it on Dylan's head~
Zybala: I'll be your CO-WINNER for the Margarita Mixer!
~The crowd cheers as Dylan reaches out a hand. Zybala slaps it away and brings Dylan in for a hug. He tells Dylan that brothers don't shake hands, brothers gotta hug! The trio leave the ring, the men's suits still in pristine conditions~
Hood: I'm gonna be sick.
Jones: Zybala and Dylan Thomas teaming up for the MIX! What a team!
Hood: And the MIX pairings were going SO well.
Jones: This field is a strong one, fans. The strongest MIX field ever. How will the other teams shape up? Stick around all month and find out!
~ The OCW Faithful have been treated to a very stacked July 4th Edition Massacre and the main event hasn’t even happened yet. The fans boo as LOU POHL is running around frantically. Searching for a couple pennies he heard someone drop earlier? Some nice and sexy Jewish women? Let’s find out!~
Lou Pohl: ‘Cuse me, have you seen my client, Crash Rodriguez?
~The camera shows an extremely bald elderly Hispanic man in a wheelchair.~
Man: Quién?
Lou Pohl: What? Queef? What are you even saying?
Man: El Loco Pendejo.
Lou Pohl: Yenno, I’m just wasting time. My VALUABLE time. Hurry up and die so you aren’t a drag on our social security system!
~ Lou races off down the hall.~
Lou Pohl: Come on, Crash! That little ankle biting shittin’ machine won’t stop crying! HURRY UP AND HELP!
~ Lou makes a turn, crashing into his client CRASH RODRIGUEZ! He looks relieved as Crash looks at him with a eyebrow raised.~
Crash Rodriguez: Where’s Bash, Lou?
Lou Pohl: That’s why I am looking for you, Yenno? That little bastard won’t stop crying! I tried everything!
Crash Rodriguez: Everything?
Lou Pohl: Did I stutter? No, I didn’t. My vernacular and vocabulary are number one! I tried showing the kid some videos of Easton reacting to his dangerous move being banned being the Unsafe Worker he is! I even tried - -
~Crash rolls his eyes and walks past him to his locker room. Lou catches up.~
Lou Pohl: Where are you goin? I am not done telling you what I tried!
Crash Rodriguez: I don’t care, Lou. Bash is a baby! MY baby! You can’t leave him unattended!
~ Lou follows his client back to the locker room and starts to freak out when he can’t hear the kid.~
Lou Pohl: Well either the little bastard shut up, learned to walk and fend for himself instead of being the little leech he is or he dead, Yenno?
~Crash ignores him as he opens the door with haste and sees the back of a strawberry blonde woman standing there in the middle of the room. She sways gently, singing softly.~
Woman: □ So your girlfriend rolls a Honda, playin’ workout tapes by Fonda, but Fonda ain’t got a motor in the back of her Honda. □
~She turns slowly revealing her identity but it doesn’t stop her from looking back down at the baby who giggles and smiles. She smiles back at little Bash. ~
Tamika Strader: □ My anaconda don’t want none, unless you got BUNS, hun □
Bash Rodriguez: Ooogoo Doogoo *pure baby gibberish followed by a baby laugh.~
Lou Pohl: Excuse me, what are you doing in my client’s locker room?!
~Tamika sways with Bash in her arms and she walks to Crash, handing him his son. Crash? Relieved. Bash? Fresh. Lou? The ability to feel stupid.~
Tamika Strader: *turning to Lou* The better question you should ask is “Why was a baby left unattended in a large arena with nearly twenty-thousand in attendance?” *turning to Crash* But I can already tell from the body language is that little angel needed to a new diaper, a bottle followed by a nice big burp and a little socializing and when that didn’t happen, dickless over here- -
~Tamika looks at Lou, shaking her head before looking at Crash.~
Tamika Strader: - - went looking for you and now you are here with a happy baby. New diapers and feedings do that, YENNO. You’re welcome by the way.
Crash Rodriguez: It’s a learning curve.
Tamika Strader: And great to see a man step up. Many would’ve ran. Like Dickless.
Crash Rodriguez: Hindsight says I shouldn’t have left him alone with Lou. Is that it?
~Tamika doesn’t even sneer as she retrieves her purse slinging it over her shoulder.~
Tamika Strader: Not unless you want to join my fan-fic writing after eating edibles from “Cara and Jake’s Stoners Pot Palace” Scrapbook Club. Yeah, didn’t think so. See ya soon Crash. Bye little buddy.
~Her slender index finger tickles Bash as he coos happily. She nods to her ToQ opponent, and gives Lou the family Sneer, leaving the lockeroom.
Crash Rodriguez: You didn’t try feeding him?
Louis Pohl: It slipped my mind, honest.
~We cut back to the ringside~
Jones: Somebody needs to save that child. Lou and Crash as parents...REALLY?
Hood: Could probably make for a pretty good sitcom. Or shitty reality TV show on BRAVO.
Jones: OMG...are you going to BRAVOCON?
Hood: I'd rather have a nail gun shot into my testicles.
Jones: Oh. Okay. Well, on that note...it's main event time, folks! A highly emotional, energy fueled tag team match between four of the premier talents in this industry!! CJ O'Donnell and Alexandra Calaway team up to take on Mark Storm and TransAtlantic Champion, CYPH3R...NEXT!
Alexandra Calaway & CJ O’Donnell vs. CYPH3R & Mark Storm
~It’s late in the night and the vibe is JUST right. Main Event time has arrived and boy do we have a doozy. Alliances. Betrayal. Emotions. You name it, we’ve got it. Can Paramount flex their collective muscles or will the makeshift team of superlative superstars take the July 4th main event victory? Let’s find out~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for our Main Event of the evening! This match is a tag team match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
~The lights go down and "Blow" Eva Under Fire ft. Spencer Charnas of ICE NINE KILLS starts to play. The arena is filled with Red and lights and fog. The Silhouette of Alexandra can be seen at the top of the ramp. She poses on the top of the ramp and as the beat drops, she starts to make her way down the ramp, towards the ring. Stopping halfway down the ramp, she stops looking out over the crowd, before continuing on. She smirks seeing some of the signs people made, a cocky smirk crosses her face~
Belvedere: "From Dallas, Texas, Alexandra Calaway..."
~Finishing her walk down the ramp, she climbs onto the ring apron and up onto the turnbuckle. She slips into the ring and poses on the ropes, leaning forward on the ropes, sometimes talking shit with people in front row as she waits for her partner~
Jones: Alexandra Calaway returning to the ring after having an injury scare at the hands of Easton Alexander.
Hood: Injury ‘scare’...she was injured, man. Don’t minimize it!
Jones: I’m skeptical as to how injured she really was. But, she got Easton’s move banned, so it worked...I guess.
Belvedere: And, her tag team partner.
~“Kings Never Die” by Eminem hits! Massive boos. The runner-up to last week’s Prison Yard Match emerges from backstage. He’s got some bandaging around his head, covering up the number of cuts and gashes he received at the hands of the maniacal Killa Kali. CJ O’Donnell may look a little worse for wear...but his attitude, his scowl remains the same. He’s as belligerent and angry as ever. He marches down the ramp talking shit to any and everyone within shouting distance~
Belvedere: From Boston, Massachusetts...standing 5’11 and weighing in at 178lbs...he is ‘The Distinguished’...CJ O’Donnell!!!
~CJ reaches the ringside area and he hustles up the steps, sliding into the ring and throwing his arms into the air. HUGE boos from the fans. CJ cracks an arrogant smile and gives the fans a staunch middle finger. Ally stands behind him clapping and nodding her head~
Jones: CJ as irascible as ever. Yet another wrestler who, somehow, passed a physical to enter a ring tonight.
Hood: Knife Man got his eyes set on the ratings, clearly. Passing Easton and CJ.
Jones: As long as they don’t die, I guess.
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~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 better man.
This ain't no place for no hero
To call "home."
~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. Storm hops off the corner and turns around. Ally tries to charge him but CJ gets in her way, calming her down. Convincing her to wait for the bell~
Jones: Ally really wants to get her hands on Storm.
Hood: They joined together, basically. Think there were some feelings and plans there...but it all fell apart. And, yea, she’s pissed.
Jones: CJ being the voice of reason, for a change. Not willing to risk an opportunity to snare a Main Event victory.
Belvedere: And, his tag team partner…
~"Fortune Days" by the Glitch Mob hits and out steps the OCW TransAtlantic Champion, CYPH3R. Hoodie over his head, title around his waist, the rising star makes his way down the ramp and toward the ring. The fans don’t exactly boo him..it’s not like he’s won them over via his extremely fan favorite personality...he’s just facing CJ who is, like, the biggest heel in the company. So, CYPH3R makes his way to the ring and he hops onto the apron, staring across the ropes toward CJ who has managed to back Ally into their corner. CJ turns around, staring back at CYPH3R~
Belvedere: From Adelaide, Australia...standing 5’9 and weighing in at 125lbs...he is the OCW TransAtlantic Champion...CYPH3R!!!!
Jones: And our first look at CYPH3R after his huge win at Reformation against Dangerous Dan.
Hood: There’s no wrestler with more momentum in this industry than the Superior Design.
Jones: And tonight he steps into the ring with Ally who has a personal vendetta against CYPH3R much like she does against Storm.
Hood: Ally just hates everybody not named Ed. Let’s get that straight.
Jones: I don’t think that’s fair or accurate but whatever.
~Belvedere exits and the bell sounds. CYPH3R slowly removes his belt, handing it to the announcer who takes it to the time keeper’s table for safe keeping. Still on the apron, CYPH3R motions toward Storm to start the match, Storm nods and loosens up. CJ is in the ring with Ally on the apron~
Jones: CJ is going to start this one
Hood: Of course! CJ is the Alpha Male! Let the alpha male do his thing!
~Ding Ding Ding~
~Storm starts off this contest with CJ O’Donnell of the Paramount. CJ asks for a test of strength but Storm delivers a kick to his shins instead. CJ holds at his offended shin, Storm with a beautiful roundhouse that sends CJ stumbling away. Storm hits the ropes, slaps the outstretched hand of CYPH3R and bounces towards CJ. A leap frog sends him over CJ, CYPH3R with a running bulldog to the surprised CJ takes him down. Scruff makes sure to get Storm back to their corner, he obliges willingly as he bows like Your Hero, and Mine.~
Jones: Storm taunting Scruff early here.
Hood: Hey, he’s Your Hero, and Mine, Jones.
~CYPH3R pulls CJ up to his feet Irish whip into the ropes. CJ springs back from the middle rope, connecting with a back elbow right into CYPH3R's mouth and catching him by surprise. CJ pulls him up, forearm to the mouth to further stun his before a stinging chop to the chest sends his back first into the corner. CJ lifts his hand to tag in Ally, but CYPH3R shoves him forward as he dives as well. CJ stumbles back, CYPH3R rolls forward springing up to his feet and delivering a surprise clothesline that takes CJ down to the canvas. CYPH3R off the ropes with another tag, but this one to Storm who leaps to the top turnbuckle. CYPH3R jumps into the air, leg drop across CJ's throat before Storm dives as CYPH3R rolls off to deliver a knee drop into his stomach. Storm holds for the cover and here comes Ally to the rescue.
1!
~The pin is stopped as CJ kicks out easily enough in the early going.~
Hood: Too early for a pin, but CYPH3R has a goal.
Jones: Yeah, just like they all do.
~CYPH3R with a chop, but Ally catches the wrist and turns it into a hip toss sending CYPH3R backwards. Ally in the ropes, baseball slide sends her and CYPH3R out to the floor. Storm pulls himself up to his feet, pulling CJ up as well. Whip into the ropes, CJ with a leap jumps over Storm. CJ doesn't wait though as he launches himself over the top rope to the outside and sends CYPH3R chest first into the announce table positioned at ringside. CJ hops up to his feet, happy with the turn of events.~
Hood: Storm flying over!
Jones: Look out!
Hood: Think we can get a Spanish announce team for them to fuck with instead of us?
~CJ's chin smacks heavily onto the table. Up in the ring Scruff has finally decided to start the count~
1!
~CYPH3R gets up. Whip into the ringpost, CYPH3R hooks his arm around the post swinging around to meet Ally with the toe of his boots. Ally ducks under and catches his swinging legs by the ankle. Ally continues the spin, spinebuster onto the floor.~
Jones: CYPH3R was just slammed on his neck and shoulders!
Hood: Good thing he leaves his hoodie on when he fux.
~Ally gets up to her feet, before walking over to where Storm is chopping the chest of CJ O’Donnell.~
2!!
~Ally pulls Storm by the hair, and that is a major accident on his part. Storm drops down, sweeping Ally' legs out from under her and he rides her on down to the floor with his forearm slamming heavily into her throat.~
3!!!
~Storm shouts something unintelligible into his face before CJ yanks his tag team partner back. CJ rolls his back into the ring where this match is supposed to take place. Scruff stops the count. Ally begins making her way to her corner as CYPH3R does the same, though he rubs at his neck a bit along the way. CJ whips Storm into the ropes, he slides between his legs and he spins around. CJ has learned a bit though as the toe of his boot connects solidly with Storm's temple and he slumps forward. CJ catches him and slams him to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. CJ off the ropes with a baseball slide that sends Storm rolling over near the corner.~
Jones: CJ O’Donnell climbing up top here.
Hood: He does like to live dangerously. It’s been really nice not having his Hoot bitch around
~Oddly, C hears that and glances at Hood who points at an unaware Jones. CJ is in position for a moonsault and leaps to the air!
CRASH!~
Jones: Crash landing for CJ O’Donnell.
Hood: Live by the owl, die by the weird Owl Chlamydia.
~CJ is holding himself after the impact of body and canvas, but Storm is getting up shaking his head as he leans on the ropes. He runs forward aiming a kick at CJ's head, but he manages to fight through the pain and flip his over onto his back, perhaps out of desperation? CJ rushes forward to the ropes, he pulls himself up. Storm is up as well and he doesn't look happy. Collar and elbow. Storm twists and ducks under to be behind CJ, he slams his knee into the back of his sending him down to the canvas. Storm with a side headlock, he walks CJ forward on his knees.~
Hood: Tag from Storm there has CYPH3R into the match.
Jones: CYPH3R wants a piece of Ally, but looks willing to take out his frustration on CJ instead.
Hood: Jones, I didn’t expect that out of you.
Jones: Don’t kink shame, Hood.
~CYPH3R exchanges the position with Storm, using the side headlock to wear CJ down for a big set up move then a finisher. CJ fights up to his feet. Elbow to his stomach, a second, and a third breaks the hold. CJ off the ropes sends his shoulder into CYPH3R's midsection doubling his over at the waist. CJ off the ropes with a springboard and he catches CYPH3R with a tornado DDT!~
Jones: Great Tornado DDT. We need more of this.
Hood: and less fucking superkicks.
CJ makes a cover, Scruff drops into position.
1!
2!!
~Storm in with the save before Ally can make it there. Storm looks up at the sound of his approach. Reverse roundhouse but Ally catches him on both sides of his neck. Ally walks forward.~
Hood: Reverse hurricanrana by Storm!
Jones: But CJ and CYPH3R are the legal participants!
~Storm turns around as he gets up from leveling out Calaway, CJ levels him with a shoulder block into the corner. CJ off the ropes as Storm stumble steps out and CJ with a springboard bulldog takes his down. But here comes CYPH3R, you can never count out a Hacker Boi 3000. CJ drops to one knee and launches himself towards CYPH3R with a clothesline; CYPH3R is unable to avoid the big blow as he flips over backwards from the impact. CJ helps Ally up to her feet. CJ stumbles to their corner where he legally tags Ally into the match.~
Hood: Having worked the entire match so far has taken its toll on CJ O’Donnell.
Jones: While CJ has been the legal man, Ally has been involved with the match in very big ways; I don't think CYPH3R has been himself since that high angle spinebuster.
~CYPH3R up on the apron as Storm is crouching in wait. Ally looks over to CYPH3R as Storm rolls into a crouch behind him. Ally turns around just as Storm launches herself with a double face kick. Ally falls into the ropes and bounces off; Storm continues by whipping him into the opposite ropes. Storm reaches over for the tag, as CYPH3R is now the legal participant in the match. Ally rebounds, CYPH3R rolls under hitting off the ropes herself. Ally rebounds and CYPH3R leaps into the air, as though for a leap frog and as Ally ducks under, he comes down with both knees right onto the back of his neck. Ally is hurt and CYPH3R rolls her over for a pin attempt.~
1!
2!!
Kickout!
Jones: Alexandra Calalway wasn’t going down that easy!
Hood: ... naw, too easy. I’ll wait.
~As Jones shakes his head and Calaway back to her feet quickly she and CYPH3R tie up, the worn CYPH3R bending under the pressure of Ally’s surprising strength. Ally whips CYPH3R across the ring, jumping over him on the rebound. He falls back, Storm making a blind tag as Ally sets up, nailing CYPH3R with a leg lariat. She goes for the cover, Scruff signaling too late as Storm steps in, throwing a few kicks into the side of Ally’s head. O’Donnell steps in to break it up, but Scruff sees him and stops the Fury. It is at this moment that Storm nails a kick to the kidneys on Ally. Calaway goes down clutching her back. Storm raises Ally to her feet, planting a boot to her midsection. He raises her up, planting him with a suplex and mounting the Paramount member. He throws a flurry of fists into her face, trying to draw blood. He garners a count of four before being forced off of Calaway, allowing only a moment before mounting her again. This time, however, Ally reacts quickly, rolling him into a schoolboy.~
1!
2!!
Kickout!!!
Hood: Who does she think she is? TLS?! I heard she thinks SHE-LS is TLS...
Jones: She’s damn fine wrestler, and if not for the freak accident in her match against Easton, maybe she would be facing Tamika Strader for the Craze title our former financer has an iron grip upon.
~Ally and Storm are on their feet, exchanging blows. Ally goes for a hook but Storm ducks, using her own momentum against her to throw Ally with an arm drag. Ally stumbles to her feet, charging Storm who jumps, twisting him body as he sails over Calaway. Ally turns, halting herself mid charge and is met with a roundhouse kick to the face! Storm now takes the cover, Scruff dropping.~
1!
2!!
3NO!!!!! KICKOUT BITCHES!
Jones: That right there is why CJ wanted Alexandra in Paramount.
Hood: Why? Cause she can take a shot to the face?
Jones: *shaking his head* Malaka.
~Ally struggles to find her footing, still slightly dazed from the kick. Storm starts up, throwing a slap into the side of Ally’s head. Ally turns, angered, as Storm throws another palm right across her cheek. Ally stumbles back, coming up with a clothesline attempt that is ducked by Storm. Both rebound, Ally missing a leg lariat but Storm right on cue with a beautiful dragon screw, planting Ally on the mat. Storm doesn’t go for the cover as he heads for CJ, flipping off. CJ starts in but is stopped again by Scruff, as CYPH3R has entered the ring and both off them now hit Ally with a Wishbone Legsplit. Lifting Alexandra Calaway up, CYPH3R and Storm whip her into their corner, Scruff turning around. He yells at CYPH3R, who runs over and hops the rope. Storm heads over, tagging The Dukes personal Doxer, he lifts Calaway to the top turnbuckle. CYPH3R sets up inside the ring as Storm lifts Ally, hitting a Superplex… and CYPH3R hits a shooting star press onto the downed Ally Calaway. CYPH3R takes the cover, Storm heading to block CJ.~
1!
2!!
3NO! HER SHOULDER CAME UP!!!!
Hood: Come on Scruff! That was a 3!
Jones: Smart play by CJ as Storm and CYPH3R were arguing with Scruff on the count, to drag Calaway to his corner and make the tag as Scruff turned around!
Hood: O’Donnell showing his Irish Knowledge. CYPH3R now coming in for Storm!
~O’Donnell goes toe to toe with CYPH3R and unchambers lefts and rights, trying to chop down him down. O’Donnell whips Doomsday into the turnbuckle and follows up with a huge corner splash. CYPH3R staggers forward and O’Donnell leaps to the top turnbuckle. O’Donnell stands straight up and comes down with a huge double axe handle to the head and back of CYPH3R! CYPH3R falls to both knees and O’Donnell goes into the ropes. He comes back and leaps high into the air, spinning on his side, and connects with the jaw of CYPH3R for a huge heel kick.~
Jones: O’Donnell showing why he’s the leader (not leader) of Paramount.
Hood: Give it time Jones, Ed will take control!
~O’Donnell uses the middle rope to spring himself up into the air and crashes down on the fallen CYPH3R with a moonsault. He holds it for the cover.~
1!
2!!
~Broken up by Your Hero, and Mine. Well, he’s not, my hero is Charlie Sheen. O’Donnell gets CYPH3R up to his feet and connects with multiple knee strikes. CYPH3R is doubled over, and O’Donnell plants him into the mat with a huge DDT! O’Donnell covers again.~
1!
2!!
Kickout!
Jones: And Storm dropkicks Calaway out of the ring as she came in to stop Storm!
~Storm goes back to him corner as Calaway stirs on the outside. O’Donnell gets frustrated and pulls CYPH3R up to him feet. But, CYPH3R counters with elbow strikes to O’Donnell’s stomach. CYPH3R lifts O’Donnell up for a vertical suplex but drops him hard to the mat with a brainbuster! CYPH3R stands above O’Donnell now, and spits on his fallen body. Calaway recovers on the outside, getting back up to the apron. She doesn't look pleased.~
Hood: It’s your own fault Calaway!
Jones: Not wrong.
~Calaway tags herself in with a slap on the risen O’Donnell’s back, and O’Donnell looks at Calaway with a smirk that says “go get em”. Calaway goes after CYPH3R with lefts and rights. CYPH3R gets slammed into the turnbuckle. Calaway runs back to her corner, but unbeknownst to her Storm has tagged himself in.~
Jones: I don’t think she realizes who the legal man is…
Hood: Calaway is on the top turnbuckle now... he flips off the turnbuckle and sprints towards CYPH3R!
Jones: OH SUPER KICK TO CALAWAY!!!!!
Hood: LEARN NEW MOVES YOU FUCKS!
~Storm just smiles and nods as he drops down for the pin.~
1!
2!!
3! No! Calaway had her foot on the rope.
Jones: Way to close to the ropes!
Hood: They don’t need your help Jones, S.Y.W.M!
Jones: I am afraid to ask...
Hood: Don’t be. Shut Your Whore Mouth.
~Storm starts to argue with the ref, saying that the rope save was crap. Calaway gets to her feet and turns Storm around. Looking down at him from his inch on height, she grabs Storm by the throat. He's trying to get out of it, desperately, as she squeezes the air from his lungs. Storm is let go and Calaway falls to his knees, as CYPH3R’s heel connects with the back of her head. Calaway stumbles to the ground, gathering herself together, and CYPH3R goes into the ropes. He springboards off, and connects with a dropkick to the back of Calaway!~
Jones: CYPH3R showing great versatility tonight! That’s why he’s the TransAtlantic Champion!
~CYPH3R is ordered by Scruff to return to him corner, and he does. Storm gets to his feet and lays down a few stomps on Calaway. He gets Calaway up to her feet and sends her into the ropes. Calaway comes back and Storm uses the momentum to hip toss Calaway down to the mat. Storm goes into the ropes and comes back, hitting a running Senton bomb. He mounts Calaway and unchambers lefts and rights, the rage building up in his eyes. Scruff tries to pull him off, but Storm pushes him away. Storm lifts Calaway head up toward her and finishes the attack off with a painful headbutt. Storm gets to his feet, breathing heavily, looking to destroy Calaway in any way he can. But, he tries to calm himself. He walks over to CYPH3R and tags him in. CYPH3R walks over to Calaway and gets her to her feet. He hits a quick jawbreaker, which sends Calaway staggering back into the corner. CYPH3R charges in with a flying knee strike to Calaway’s face.~
Jones: Oh, that had to hurt!
~Calaway staggers out toward the middle of the ring, and CYPH3R connects with a kick to the Calaway’s stomach that causes her to double over. He slams his head between him legs, hooks her arms, and hits him sister’s former finishing move.~
Jones: Look! Calaway’s nose is pouring out blood!
Hood: Must be that time of month!
Jones:... I am going to talk to The Knife Man our chief medic SLASH mechanic SLASH chief gynecologist to explain how that works.
~CYPH3R goes for the cover, but O’Donnell is distracting the referee. While CYPH3R goes to grab the ref’s attention Calaway quickly shakes the cobwebs out, and then backs up to the corner, She goes to bulldog CYPH3R from behind whilst on by the ropes, Calaway then charges, and knocks CYPH3R into the referee..~
Hood: What a dumbass! She just knocked hee own partner as well!
Jones: Everyone’s back in the ring now though! Looks like Storm and CJ are now the legal team mates now.
~O’Donnell charges at Storm. Storm jumps up and leapfrogs O’Donnell, who turns around, and ducks a spinning wheel kick. He locks on a rear waistlock, but O’Donnell throws back a pair of elbows to break the hold, and then hits the ropes again. Storm tries and lifts O’Donnell for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker, but O’Donnell slides through and lands with Storm in a armlock.~
Hood: I think it will take more than a arm bar to hold Storm down!
Jones: Apparently as Storm has already grabbed the ropes!
~O’Donnell releases Storm’s arm and stands up, and walks over to the corner. Storm gets to him feet, shaking out him arm, cracks him neck and rolls him shoulders. O’Donnell climbs up to the top rope, perched on the top turnbuckle as he focuses on the risen and ready Mark Storm. Storm turns his back around to him, and O’Donnell flies off with his legs spread, wrapping them around Storm’s head and flipping backwards.~
Jones: Hurricanra---
~Before Jones can finish the word Storm whips O’Donnell back onto him shoulders, turns the powerbomb position quickly into a fireman's carry, and then throws O’Donnell off, dropping him on the back of his head on the mat, landing near his teams corner and Alexandra barely makes a tag.~
Hood: What a reversal!!!!!!!!!!