OCW Presents: Monday Night Massacre
Live! May 12th, 2014
From the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada
[The show opens on Interim OCW President Scott Syren sitting in a cramped office. He seems uncomfortable being behind a desk piled high with various forms, receipts and paperwork. Lurrr's seven-foot-tall henchman stands at attention on the other side of the desk. Syren's Operation Zero stablemate Bounty Hunter sits in a plush chair in the corner, silently guarding President Syren. He has his face mask and his full array of tactical gear, but he isn't wearing any pants... Syren apparently told him to “make himself at home”.]
Rick Mathis: I've been instructed to assist you in every way possible, Interim President Syren, sir. If there's anything you need--
Syren: Take the night off, Dick. I have my own flunkies. Don't go too far though... you might be useful if shit really hits the fan. I don't imagine that's going to happen though. Unless it does. I doubt it though. And yet it might.
Rick Mathis: Yes, sir. You can find me at the trailer trash casino-bar around the corner should you need me.
Syren: Tremendous. Dismissed.
[Mathis exits the room. If you didn't know better, you'd almost say he looks relieved. As if on cue, Syren's transvestite friend Berta enters.]
Berta: You needed to see me about getting me roped into some bullshit scheme of yours?
Syren: I didn't say anything about a bullshit scheme.
Berta: I assumed.
Syren: Well that was rude.
[Syren throws Berta two rolls of wide, blue masking tape.]
Berta: What's this?
Syren: I believe its called “tape”. I found it in this desk.
Berta: I mean what the fuck am I supposed to do with it, fuckface?
Syren: First off, put some over your mouth until you've learned the correct way to speak to gentlemen and presidents. Secondly, go stand by concessions and tell people they need to buy a five dollar wristband if they intend to drink. That's where the tape comes in. And then bring any monies collected right back here to me. Bitch ass muthafucka.
Berta: Okay, I don't care what Clubbin' Man says, you aren't a rapper. And, um... okay... what am I doing? Wristbands? Why exactly am I selling masking tape wristbands to concessions customers?
Syren: Because I ain't got dems fat stacks... ho.
Berta: I thought the Savior of L'Ardanth had transcended beyond the idea of money?
Syren: Yeah, well, fuckin'... that was before I lost all of my money at Slots o' Fun last night. Fucking Slots o' Fun... I love their foot-long hotdogs though.
[Curt Canon walks through the door just in time to hear “I love their foot long hot dogs”. He giggles.]
Syren: Somebody has a lot of growing up to do.
Canon: Children?
Syren: What?
Canon: Seeds?
Syren: Seeds?
Canon: Is this a riddle?
Syren: Is what a riddle?!
[Canon shrugs and throws an unmarked manila envelope on Syren's desk.]
Canon: I'm supposed to give you that.
Syren: Who is it from?
Canon: This guy.
Syren: What guy? What did he look like?
Canon: He was like medium-height and he had, you know, like a shirt. And some hair... or maybe he was bald. Or no, I think he was wearing a hat.
Syren: A medium guy with a shirt and maybe hair, perfect.
Canon: Right, but maybe a hat.
Syren: Yes, thank you.
[Syren opens the envelope. The shot switches to over his shoulder so that the audience can rudely read Syren's mail. The letter he extracts from the mysterious envelope reads as follows...]
Mr. Syren,
That being said, there are a few things that I’m dissatisfied with and since you’re acting President I’m thinking that you can correct. Since Operation Zero is saving the OCW from itself, I’m sure you cannot deny that something that must be corrected is the presence of The Big Bifford. He has obviously gained weight since his last stint in the public eye and I’m thinking that maybe you can help save his inevitable run-in with high cholesterol and a heart attack, it’s for the betterment of the OCW.
Another is the lack of Scoot Time seeing action inside an OCW ring. Tonight would be an opportune moment to reintroduce Scoot Time in the ring since you have a match with the new Scoot Time of the OCW, Richard. The King of Jobbers must be decided tonight. Any ideas?
With all of that being said, the lawyers are still working on our “problem”…fucking bitches. I’ll give you a call soon and talk over in more detail about our “arrangement.”
Your BFF
[Syren stares at the page for a while after finishing reading. The expression on his face is odd but unreadable.]
Syren: What do you guys make of this?
Canon: I don't remember writing that... so why does it say its from your BFF?
Syren: Excellent question...
Berta: Is that from...
Syren: I assume so... how demanding can a person who isn't even here be? He's lucky he's fucking rich. Okay, now, blah blah President, blah blah success, ah, here it is... why in fuck's cunt would anybody want Scoot Time to return to the ring? Do you know how much trouble I would be in if I let Scoot Time get out there and tank our ratings?! Hopefully that part was a joke. As for the other part... damn, why is everybody so anti-Bifford? And furthermore why the fuck is it my problem the one night I'm president? Personally, I find Bifford's antics to be refreshing and delightful. Curt, you're a good judge of what's what... what do you make of Bifford?
Canon: Well, he's big.
Syren: … and?
[Canon shrugs.]
Syren: Thanks, Curt.
Canon: No problem. Okay, I have to get back to the locker room. I have Can't Hardly Wait paused halfway through and if I get back now I can probably finish watching it before my match. Hey, you wanna join me?
Syren: Any other day, yes... but I have to do all this presidenting shit.
Bounty Hunter: Is there any violence in this film?
Canon: It's violently hilarious.
Bounty Hunter: Good enough. I'm in. Just let me find my pants, I know they're around here somewhere...
[Syren gets up.]
Syren: Five minutes as President and I already totes need a vay-cay. I wonder what Banalla is like this time of year? I'm going for a walk to clear my head, guys. Good luck tonight, Curt.
[He exits the office and heads right. Within five steps, he comes face-to-face with The Big Bifford. Bifford is holding what appear to be packing lists or invoices in each hand. One is from an exotic animal dealer, the other seems to be from a blacksmith or forge of some sort.]
Bifford: Co-President Syren! Just the man I was looking for... this stupid delivery guy says you need to sign off on this stuff for the company. I told him my signature was valid and binding for all OCW business, but he's being a real--
Syren: I don't have time for this. There are people around here who want you gone, Biff. I'm not going to be able to help you stop that from happening if you keep doing... whatever this is. I've already irritated my most important ally disposing of your mules and ice skates and bears, and I've already booked a match in your honor featuring your favorite wrestler, so whatever this stuff is... just no.
Bifford: I've killed people for--
Syren: Yeah, we get it. You murder shit. Now are you going to show up to referee or guest commentate at The Big Bifford Memorial Classic match between Danger Dan and the Incomparable PerZag?
Bifford: Are you going to sign for these deliveries?
Syren: Under no circumstances am I doing that.
[Syren and Bifford engage in a staredown, though it is more like exchanging looks of mutual irritation than anything else. We cut to ringside.]
Smith: Well if that’s an indicator for how the rest of tonight’s broadcast is going to go…
Hood: We are in for the finest night of television in the history of television
Smith: Hardly…well, folks, we are here LIVE from the Planet Hollywood Hotel and Casino Mall…I guess is what you’d call it
Hood: Oh yea, it’s definitely a mall…a highly expensive mall
Smith: Indeed…tonight is going to be unlike any night in recent memory as Scott Syren is in charge
Hood: Finally bringing sexy back to OCW!
Smith: No
Hood: Yes
Smith: The Western Title Tournament kicks off tonight with the four winners advancing to next week
Hood: I’m going with Ehud or PerZag
Smith: Can’t argue with those picks
Hood: Nope
Smith: Well folks, we’ve got a busy night planned, folks, so let’s not waste time…our first match is right now!
[Bourne and Mitchell are already in the ring]
Belvedere: This match is now a traditional triple threat match. Already in the ring…Kevin Bourne and Matthew Mitchell.
[“You’re Not Here” by Akira Yamaoka starts to play as the fans watch Kimiko Onee-sama make her way to the ring. She slides in under the bottom rope as her music comes to a close]
Belvedere: And their opponent, from The Forest of Nara Perfecture, Japan…standing 5’3 and weighing in at 147lbs…Kimiko Onee-Sama!!!
[Belvedere exits as the bell sounds and the match is underway]
Smith: Late addition to our opening match as the OCW rookie, Kimiko Onee-Sama is set to make her impromptu debut!
Hood: Surely those two guys will kick her around, right?
Smith: Have you been paying attention to OCW lately? Women’s lib, Hood
Hood: It’s an awful thing
[Bourne rushes Kimiko…she ducks and lifts him over the top rope and to the outside! He lands hard]
Smith: Kevin Bourne was a little overzealous there
Hood: Yea, fucking cost him
Smith: Indeed
[Mitchell throws a punch at Kimiko, she ducks, grabs his head and drops him to the mat with a Reverse DDT!! Kimiko then quickly locks in a Dragon Sleeper with leg scissors applied! Mitchell cries and screams like a little girl before tapping out in record fashion. The bell rings as Kimiko has her hand raised in victory]
Belvedere: Here is your winner…KIMIKO ONEE-SAMA!!!!!
Smith: Wow…fastest triple threat ever
Hood: That bitch toasted those two fools
Smith: Indeed…impressive debut…now we’ll have to wait and see if Itsumade can keep their momentum going.
Hood: WHO?
Smith: ITSUMADE!
Hood: WHO??
Smith: Forget it…let’s go backstage
[Mia Stone is sat backstage with the rest of Operation Zero watching Massacre on a big screen TV. Every so often a chorus of ohhh's and ahhh's echo around the room as they cheer on the match. There is a loud knock at the door and no one moves, everyone just looks around as if to say “Is someone getting that.” Mia sighs as she gets up. Opening up the door she looks slightly surprised that there is no one around, just a letter and a parcel on the floor as she picks it up we see it is addressed to her]
Dearest Mia Stone,
Mister Incredible
Mia: “Bishop sent us chicken.”
[There is a further cheer from the locker room at the mention of fried chicken. We cut back to ringside]
Smith: That is RACIST and INTOLERABLE…he should be FINED immediately
Hood: For some reason, I don’t see Syren fining Ian for that
Smith: So you’re saying Syren is a racist?
Hood: No, I’m just saying Syren doesn’t give a shit
Smith: What a terrific president we have for tonight, ladies and gentlemen
Hood: I couldn’t agree more
[“I Am Warrior” by Cruachan plays over the PA system. Fireworks go off at the entrance, which is a bad idea since the showroom at Planet Hollywood that has been retrofitted into a wrestling arena for the night is not really equipped to handle pyrotechnics. Several fans are burned badly. Scott Syren comes down to the ring. He has changed his outfit since we saw him backstage. He looks pretty damn cool in a crisp, lime green tuxedo and black shirt. A matching lime green top hat sits on top of his head at a jaunty angle. The pocket of the tuxedo is a black square of fabric, with a dark gray number “0” on it—a tasteful integration of the Operation Zero logo. The One True World Title Belt strapped over the waist of the tuxedo looks equally tasteful and rad.]
Hood: President Syren looking super extra cool tonight!
Smith: Indeed. So much for hoping he would quietly run things from backstage...
Hood: Anyone who seriously expected that is a fucking fool.
Smith: A person can dream.
Hood: Yeah, or in your case, a person can dream about a bunch of dicks in their mouth.
Smith: Wow, very nice.
[Syren's music dies out as he gets into the ring. He has a golden microphone in his hand. He speaks into the microphone, which causes his voice to be amplified into the PA system via the magic of electricity.]
Syren: Hellllloooooooo, San Diego!
[The crowd boos violently.]
Smith: Scott Syren starting things off on a wonderful note with some cheap trolling.
Hood: Woah, Smith, was that sarcasm?!
Smith: Indeed.
Hood: Huh. I never knew you were that interesting.
Syren: Let's not waste any time babbling about dumb shit. Our first match will be a Potato Gun Match!!!
[James Vorex, Clubbin' Man, Bounty Hunter and some random OCW security guy come out from the back. Each one of them is carrying three huge potato cannons and a large back of semi-cooked potatoes. Each of them takes one side of the arena, and they go up into the crowd and begin handing out the potato guns and ammunition randomly. Particularly jacked-up meathead fans begin to jump around and wave like “ME, BRO! ME! GIVE ME A POTATO GUN, BRO!”]
Syren: Okay, you twelve lucky fans! These things aren't totally accurate, so if you hit the ref, it's whatever. Just make sure to aim towards the ring... don't waste my fucking potatoes shooting at one another. Now to introduce the participants!
Gabriel “GG” Goodman (0-0) vs. Itsumade (0-0)
[The crowd cheers. They are super-excited for a chance to be a part of the violence. Gabriel Goodman is already in the ring]
Syren: Some guy named after an angel or something, heeeeeere's Gabriel “GG” Goodman!
[“You’re Not Here” by Akira Yamaoka starts to play as the fans turn and watch OCW newcomer, Itsumade, head towards the ring. He slides in under the bottom rope and pops back to his feet, ready for the match to begin]
Syren: And his opponent, a promising newcomer, probably from Japan or something... Itsumade!!!
[The bell rings as the match is ready to begin. Syren exits ringside, along with his posse, allowing the match to take place]
Smith: Couple of impressive looking rookies about to go at it…especially seeing as our owner for the evening is finally gone
Hood: I was hoping he’d stick around and handle a potato gun
Smith: We’re already surrounded by drunk, angry casino fans holding potato guns…what else could go wrong?
Hood: I think the question you should ask is how could this go wrong?
Smith: No
[Several potatoes are suddenly launched into the ring at Goodman and Itsumade. Goodman grabs one to hit Itsumade with, but he screams and grabs his hand in pain as Itsumade rushes in and dropkicks Goodman!! He spills through the ropes and lands on the outside. Fans nearby pelt him with potatoes as Itsumade looks down from inside the ring, over the top rope]
Smith: Does he have some kind of skin potato allergy?
Hood: Fuck no, man, some awesome fan brought freshly baked potatoes to ringside! That thing is hot as fuck! Look at it smoldering
Smith: That is just sick!
Hood: Man, too bad I don’t have any bacon bits or butter…I’d be all over that fucking potato right now…looks delicious
[Itsumade launches himself over the top rope with a plancha! Goodman is at his feet, staggering around as Itsumade lands on him and takes him down on the outside! Itsumade pops back to his feet as a few fans shoot potatoes at him. Showing great reflex and hand eye coordination, Itsumade catches both potatoes, lifts Goodman to his feet and slams the potatoes into Goodman’s head! Itsumade then rolls Goodman back into the ring]
Smith: Itsumade looks right at home in an OCW ring!
Hood: Where’s that girl…Kimiko or whatever?
Smith: I’d imagine with potatoes being shot at ringside, they decided it would be best if she stayed away from ringside.
Hood: Bummer
[Itsumade slides back into the ring as Goodman is staggering around on his feet. Itsumade kicks Goodman in the gut, hooks him around the waist and drops Goodman with a gut wrench suplex!! Itsumade then heads for the corner and starts climbing to the top]
Smith: Could we be seeing the Falcon Fire Splash?
Hood: I don’t know, what does it look like?
Smith: That would be Itsumade’s devastating finisher…a Corkscrew 450 Splash into a pin
Hood: Oh, yea, probably
[Itsumade reaches the top. Potatoes are flying everywhere but missing Itsumade by a good margin as the drunk casino fans have terrible aim. Itsumade then leaps off and nails Goodman with The Falcon Fire Splash!! He covers Goodman for the pin as Generic Ref comes in for the count]
1!
2!
3!!!
[The bell rings as Itsumade has his arm raised in victory]
Belvedere: Here is your winner…ITSUMADE!!!!!
Smith: Wow, impressive win for Itsumade
Hood: Yea, Goodman had to be the favorite going into this match and, well, he just got punked
Smith: A flat debut for Goodman, no doubt
Hood: Yea, it was all downhill after that baked potato
Smith: Indeed…well, folks, a tremendous inaugural match here for Itsumade as he appears to have a bright OCW future. Now, let’s go backstage…
[Amber Ryan is seen sitting in her locker room, looking down at her tag team championship. A knock comes at the door]
Amber: What?
[Nothing was said. She sighs, before standing and going to the door quickly]
Amber: For fucks sakes.
[There was no one there. She closes the door and walks back into her locker room. The knock comes again, this time Amber grabs a steel chair and answers the door again, of course, no one was there]
Amber: Whoever the fuck you are, you better fuck off.
[She steps out of the doorway this time, looking up and down the corridor, no one was anywhere near her]
Amber: I know what you’re up to, you better leave me the fuck lone.
[The lights flicker in the corridor. Amber decides to go into the room, pick up the tag team championship belt, and without ever dropping the steel chair, she headed down the corridor]
Smith: Someone seems to be stalking Amber Ryan
Hood: HEY! I was cleared of those charges
Smith: I wasn’t referring to you, Hood…I was talking about the segment we just witnessed
Hood: Oh, sorry, I was eating some fried chicken.
Smith: Really?
Hood: Yes, really, can’t you see the grease stains all over my notes?
Smith: No
Hood: Oh yea, that’s right, I don’t bring notes to these shows.
["Soul Wars" by Awolnation hits the PA and the crowd goes wild. MJ emerges from the back holding a bottle of rum in her hand. She quickly makes her way down to ring side, taking a mic from the ref before she climbs inside the ring. The crowd is busy chanting, "MJ! MJ! MJ!" and the red head soaks it in for a minute letting them chant. Finally, she stops them by speaking]
MJ Bell: Boy, I feel my ego inflating already…
[This gets her a cheap pop from the crowd and she laughs]
MJ Bell: But, uh, yeah. So, I know that everyone has been wondering my next move with Ian.
[The crowd boos loudly. MJ snickers into the mic then lowers it allowing them to begin more chants. Most of them negative. “Ian Sucks.” Is the loudest]
MJ Bell: Aaw, c’mon on guys. That isn’t nice. I know Ian isn’t the nicest guy out there but no need for that. If you are too rude then I doubt he’ll come down.-- That’s right. I’m inviting Ian to come down to the ring right now. I know, I know. Why would I do that? He did attack me last week and I should be really angry. In fact, I should probably be plotting to get him back. However, I like to take the high road with things like this. I MEAN, he did say it wasn’t personal right?
[The crowd is giving very mixed reactions as MJ continues to speak]
MJ Bell: Ian, I want you to come down. I’m not mad. I won’t yell at you. I just want to talk to you. We can do that right? Just talk? I brought you some rum.
[She says shaking the bottle. The area goes quiet only for a moment then "The Whale Song" by Modest Mouse plays on the PA as the crowd erupts into a massive chorus of boos while Sean Fuller and "the Incredible" Ian Bishop walk out opposite each other not reacting to the crowd. Neither men acknowledges the other as Fuller walks down to the ring not reacting to the crowd, death staring each and every fan while Bishop on the other side is cursing at the crowd, flipping off women and making young children cry. Both men roll into the ring as Sean coldly stares at MJ as Ian passes by her to get two microphones. Ian passes one to Sean as Ian takes the other one to his lips to speak but is cut off by loud jeers from the crowd]
Ian Bishop: Are you cool if my good friend Sean Fuller chills with us while we have this little chit chat? I mean, I know you guys are pals and all… I’m sure you got a ton of questions for him too.
[Ian and Sean chuckle as they shake hands while MJ looks a little annoyed with Sean but she gives Ian a shrug. Sean looks over at MJ finally giving her the time of day and even a little smirk just for her]
Sean Fuller: Finn says howdy, by the way.
Ian Bishop: Yeah, last time I heard, he was very much enjoying his, uh, “vacation”. Now… what exactly did you want to talk about, Madeline?
[MJ tenses with anger as she grips the neck of the bottom in her hand. She takes a moment walking around the two before speaking again]
MJ Bell: Good to know my brother remembers to say hi to his sister… Don’t suppose you’d tell me where his “vacation” is taking place, huh? Of course not. That’d ruin the fun, right Sean? We wouldn’t want to ruin our game. I mean, that’d ruin pretty much everything for you and I wouldn’t want to do that. I’m such a pushover when it comes to you guys, right? Yeah. That’s right. Now, I just wanted to talk to you about what happened last week. I mean, I didn’t even have time to wrap my brain around the idea of getting a title shot before you attack me but I don’t blame you. I mean, you should’ve been the first choice, Ian! That is your fucking right to get that title and here I was, being disrespectful towards you by taking it. Not that it matters because Lurrr put you in the match. It’ll be a fair fight between us. No hard feelings. Really.
[The whole time she speaks, MJ’s tone sounds very insincere. Ian goes to speak but Sean interrupts him quickly]
Sean Fuller: One quick thing, if MJ wins does that make me the number one contender?
[Ian looks at Sean with a frowny face before continuing]
Ian Bishop: Why don’t we talk about that later? Why don’t we entertain MJ here and tell her exactly what she NEEDS to hear. But first… why don’t we talk to her about Finn and the Bahamas’ shall we…
[Ian pauses as he notices Sean looking bright red mad]
Sean Fuller: I hear he is learning to carve celebrities faces into coconuts or whatever they do in the tropics for fun while they’re getting skin Cancer.
Ian Bishop: There ya have it! Now… onto why you called me out. You said it yourself, darlin’, it was just business. I said last week I wasn’t angry at MJ the person, I was mad at MJ the number one contender… and you’re right! I damn well deserve to be in this fucking match after that fucking lame ass excuse for a President Dean wouldn’t give me my damn rematch!
[Ian is cut off by the mention of Dean’s name and light chant of his name begins]
Ian Bishop: Aw shut your faces… he’s never coming back! Good riddance. Listen, I know you’re upset. I get it. I can fix this, really. All you have to do is apologize for accepting the match when you knew I wanted it and then tell me you will step out of the match so it’s just myself and that ashy ankles in the back at Clash at the Coast.
Sean Fuller: And buy us some cheeseburgers.
[Ian looks at Sean with a funny look but then nods and shakes his head in agreement. MJ turns away so the ground can see the look of anger on her features but her voice doesn’t convey the same emotion]
MJ Bell: I’m not sure if I’m going to get around to those cheeseburgers but I am very sorry Ian. I’m sorry for accepting the match. Even though I’m sort of sorry about that I can’t say that I’m going to be sorry about this but don’t worry, babe, it’s NOTHING PERSONAL.
[MJ raises the bottle in the air then slams it over Ian’s head. The bottle shatters spilling its contents all over Ian’s head and down his shirt. Ian stumbles back as Sean goes for MJ but MJ rolls out of the ring before Sean can grab her. MJ hops into the crowd as the fans begin to follow her. Ian is breathing heavily in the ring but hasn’t moved, allowing the alcohol to drip down his whole body. He turns his direction towards MJ and has the look of insanity]
Ian Bishop: MJ FUCKING BELL! You’re going to regret the fucking day you decided to pull a fast one on me you fucking bitch--
[Sean rolls back in the ring to regroup with Ian and see if any of the bottle was holding a decent amount of rum]
Sean Fuller: And she wasted a good bottle of rum!
Ian Bishop: --cunt ass piece of shit! I’m going to tear you apart!
[Ian furiously exits the ring as he begins to scream uncontrollably and begins to destroy the ringside area. Sean shrugs and helps his new friend and tag team partner figuring what the hell! They do this for a few moments before leaving the ringside area and we cut to Smith and Hood]
Smith: That MJ Bell…such a pistol! She’s my pick to win the Central Title
Hood: I can’t believe she’d just swing a bottle of rum around like that…what a heartless, careless, orange haired bitch!
Smith: Maybe she felt like she had a little captain in her…hehehe
Hood: Dumbass, that was Cruzan, not Captains
Smith: Well, excuse me for not being a raging alcoholic
Hood: You don’t have to be a raging alcoholic to read a fucking label, moron
Smith: Whatever, I’m over this line of conversation…let’s go backstage
[We cut backstage and find Amber Ryan again]
Amber: Where the fuck are you?
[Amber Ryan was seen walking through the arena, steel chair in one hand, tag belt in the other. As she walked she was smashing the chair into lockers, tables, and whatever else she could find]
Amber: Anubis! Where the hell are you!
[A few stagehands jump out of the way as she comes past, all the fury of hell in her eyes. She makes her way towards the locker room of the master of darkness. She finds it, smashes down the door, and finds herself unsurprised that it’s empty. She turns her back, continuing her search, not even flinching when a locker in the room suddenly crashed to the ground. She looks over her shoulder at the now horizontal aluminum case]
Amber: You don’t scare me you asshole.
[We cut back to ringside]
Smith: Apparently the person playing mind games with Amber is Anubis?
Hood: Wouldn’t surprise me…that trio of Danny B, Amber and Anubis are always up to something
Smith: Indeed they are but you have to think these head games will ultimately strain the relationship between Amber Ryan and Danny B
Hood: Like that fucking matters, they never defend those tag titles anyway
Smith: It has been awhile
Hood: Yes, never is quite awhile
Smith: Indeed…well, folks, it’s time for our first Western Title Tournament match as Bob Grenier takes on Altera Moon.
Hood: Bob Grenier is a beast…Moon is, well, she’s pretty cool for a rock that has nothing on it
Smith: Whatever that means…let’s head down to ringside
Andy Murray Hall of Fame Induction Extravaganza Match
Bob Grenier (3-1) vs. Altera Moon (1-0)
[Syren’s image appears on the ceiling of the mall]
Syren: Lads and lasses! Get up off ye arses and get ye ready for the Andy Murray Hall of Fame Induction Extravaganza and/or Dance Party Showdown and/or another first-round tournament match!!!
Hood: Oh fuck, what is that shit the ring crew is piling on the mat? It smells like the inside of a rotting whale's cunt.
Smith: That would be haggis, a hearty Scottish sausage.
Hood: I might actually throw up.
Syren: The first participant will be a pretty cool dude who likes to get fucked up... he's been making waves since he debuted in OCW... can he ride the momentum through this fucked-up mess of a match? Let's find out... it's Bob Grenier!!!
[“Understanding the New Violence” by Uncut begins to play as the people surrounding the ring in the mall start to boo as Bob Grenier makes his way down to the ringside area. He enters into the ring, ready for competition]
Syren: Blah blah blah! Blah blah BLAH blah-blah, blahhhh... Altera Moon!!!
[Moon is already in the ring]
[The bell sounds as the match is ready to begin and Syren’s image vanishes from the ceiling of the mall.]
Smith: Well…haggis and a sheep
Hood: Don’t forget the dance music…that should be starting up here fairly shortly
Smith: Oh yea, how could I forget…because, as we all know, Scotland is world renowned for its clubbin music.
Hood: CLUBBIN MAN is the special ref? Is that what you just said?
Smith: NO!
[The sheep is released by Generic Ref…it starts biting at him. Generic Ref rushes away to create some distance…Grenier is watching the angry sheep with intrigue. Moon, focused on the match, rushes in with a flying knee at Grenier…he moves and Moon flies into the ropes, getting hung up in them like a fish caught in a pesky net. Grenier grabs her legs and yanks on them, she flies off of the ropes and slams flat faced onto the ring mat! The fans boo as Grenier starts to stomp on Moon]
Smith: Vicious beginning for Grenier…this match presents a huge opportunity…one Grenier has been craving since Total Demolition
Hood: Yea and no offense to the Internet Title…but a much bigger prize is at stake in this match
Smith: Indeed
[The wild sheep rushes over at Grenier, angrily. Grenier kicks it in the sheep neck and then drops it with a DDT!! The sheep is out cold. Grenier grabs the sheep by its two back legs and starts to beat Moon with it as if the sheep were folded up steel chair or something]
Smith: I can’t believe what I’m seeing!
Hood: Animal lovers…you may want to shield your eyes or, ya know, get the fuck over it
Smith: Please don’t change the channel, however, we promise that sheep isn’t feeling a thing
Hood: True, the extreme pain from the DDT dulled its senses.
Smith: Ugh
[Grenier finally hurls the sheep out of the ring, over the top rope and to the floor. Several hippy-like fans rush over and tend to the animal as Grenier goes back after Moon, who is motionless on the mat. He drops a leg for good measure before going for the pin. The ref makes the count]
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Altera Moon with the kickout!
Hood: Yes, she kicked out of Grenier’s signature move “Ima beat the sheep out of ya”
Smith: That’s weird, I don’t have that move on my list in front of me…
Hood: Because you’re an idiot
[Grenier yanks Moon to her feet and lifts her up onto his shoulders. He positions her and then drops her ONTO the haggis with a musclebuster!! Grenier goes for the pin as ref makes the count]
1!
2!
3!!!
[Grenier gets to his feet and has his arm raised in victory]
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance to the final four of the Western Title Tournament….BOB GRENIER!!!!!
Smith: Impressive win by Bob Grenier as Altera Moon was someone I think we all expected to be a force in this tournament.
Hood: Well, when you get pummeled by a sheep, shit tends to only go downhill from that point forward.
Smith: Evidently so…I was disappointed, however, by the lack of dance music
Hood: Yea, somebody fucked that up…I’m sure Scoot will be disappointed.
Smith: For a millisecond until a bright light flashes nearby, distracting him.
Hood: Fuckin Scoot
Smith: Alright folks, let’s head backstage
[The scene moves backstage and PerZag is seen alongside The Bounty Hunter in his locker room. PerZag is busy doing pushups getting ready for his big match against Dangerous Dan later that night. The Bounty Hunter is seated at a table, busy looking at a porno magazine]
PerZag: “Can you quit looking at that porno. At least do something reasonable with your time.”
The Bounty Hunter: “I have nothing to do. There is nothing on for me tonight, so I will not worry about doing anything. That is why I am ‘reading’ this porn magazine.”
PerZag: “Why don’t you at least go out there and do something for Syren or Mia Stone. Something is better than sitting here and looking at porn images.”
The Bounty Hunter: “Screw that. I am loving this magazine.”
PerZag: “If you want to continue to look at that magazine, then go back to your locker room and do it. I do not really need you here looking at porn.”
The Bounty Hunter: “OK. I might go back to my room, and put on ‘It’s Raining Men’ if you know what I mean.”
PerZag: “I do not need to know that.”
[The Bounty Hunter stands up, laughing. He walks over to the door and opens it up. He looks back at PerZag, who looks at him with disgust. The Bounty Hunter starts to sing]
The Bounty Hunter: “It’s Raining Men. Hallelujah, It’s Raining Men. Amen.”
PerZag: “Fuck off. Now get out of here.”
[The Bounty Hunter starts laughing again, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. PerZag quickly gets back to doing his pushups]
PerZag: “18...19...20...21...”
[There is a knock at the door, and PerZag stops doing his pushups. He stands up and looks over at the door]
PerZag: “Bounty Hunter. I told you to go do something else with your time.”
[There is no response at the door. PerZag walks over to it and looks outside. No one is at the other end of the door. PerZag steps out into the hallway and looks both ways, but no one is in sight. PerZag walks back to his locker room, but trips over. PerZag looks at the source of his tripping and sees a box sitting there. PerZag looks down the hallway, and picks up the box. PerZag walks back into his locker room, and places the box on the table]
PerZag: “I wonder what this may be.”
[PerZag approaches the box and grabs the lid, lifting it up, but stops. He walks away from the box and stares at it]
PerZag: “The last time I got a gift like this, it had Roy’s head in it. Fuck it. I will open it.”
[PerZag walks back to the box, and opens it up. He puts his hand in the box, and pulls out a box of chocolates and a card. He looks at the chocolate and throws it on to the sofa. He opens up the card and reads it out loudly]
PerZag: “To, PerZag. I wanted to give you this gift because I honour you. I watch you every single day. You are my inspiration. You have inspired me to become what I am. So, here are these chocolates. You should eat them now. If you do not, you will not have time to. I am coming for you. In a few weeks time, you will see me. I am going to come and take out your career. Your career will be over quickly. Just wait for me to come.”
[PerZag turns the card over and reads the other side]
PerZag: “Because if you wait for me to come, then you will be ready. If you are not ready your career will be over. I will meet you in the ring in a few weeks time. Now enjoy these chocolates while you wait.”
[PerZag finishes reading the message, and throws the card on to the ground]
PerZag: “If somebody is trying to take me out...well...I will be ready.”
[We cut back to ringside]
Smith: PerZag has a lot on his mind…his life is pretty hectic these days
Hood: Boy, I’ll say…PerZag’s life makes Die Hard look like The Notebook
Smith: But nobody died in the notebook
Hood: Not on screen…but plenty men died on the inside while watching it
Smith: Personally, it lit a passion within my loins
Hood: Ugh, please, say no more
Smith: In any event…PerZag is ready for his match against Dangerous Dan. This will no doubt be the toughest match of his young, yet highly successful OCW career.
Hood: It’s the fucking main event, right?
Smith: Indeed…and, speaking of matches…up next we’ve got your boy, Scott Syren
Hood: HOLLA!
Smith: Sure. Anyway…we’ve got your boy, Syren, wrestling in a bar against Richard in a Spooky Ghost Match
Hood: Let’s get ghostly
Smith: Alright, down to ringside we go
[Suddenly, Syren’s image appears within the mirrors of the bar by some form of modern technology]
Syren: Are you motherfuckers ready to get spooky?!
[The lights go out. A loud and extremely spooky “whooooOOOoOOOOoooOOOo” sound is heard over the PA system. When they turn back on, Scott Syren is in the ring, but he's wearing a white sheet over his body. He looks so spooky that a bunch of kids and old ladies in the crowd start to cry and faint and shit. It's fucking terrifying. But don't worry guys, it's just Scott Syren with a white sheet over his head, not a real ghost.]
Hood: Yes! It's the moment everybody has been waiting for all week!
Smith: Not true.
[We cut to a smallish club located in Planet Hollywood. It’s been cleared out for a special OCW match. Suddenly, “In Too Deep” by Sum 41 begins to play as two men enter into the club wearing ghost sheets. One says “Richard” the other says “Not Richard”. They both enter into the ring as the music over the club PA comes to an end. Belvedere’s familiar voice booms throughout the establishment]
[A bell sounds as the doors to the bar/club open and fans rush in to get ringside posture for the match. Syren looks over at the ref who is also in a spooky ghost costume. He has two eyes a giant mouth and no nose. Richard and Not Richard have nothing poked out. Just sheets covering their bodies with their ‘names’ drawn across their chests]
Smith: A spooky ghost match…my goodness
Hood: People talk about Iron Man matches…Ladder Matches…stupid matches where you can only make people submit
Smith: Submission matches?
Hood: Yea, fuck those. If you ask me…Spooky Ghost Match defeats them ALL
Smith: I must disagree…it’s merely a singles match…in a bar…with people dressed like cheap ghosts.
Hood: Hey, don’t ever call a ghost cheap. They will get angry and haunt the fuck out of you.
Smith: Right…the day I start believing in ghosts is the day I take your opinion on this sport seriously.
Hood: Aka your day of enlightenment
[Syren approaches the double dicks and attempts to figure out who is the real Richard. It doesn’t take him long as he’s performed this song and dance routine before, with Dean. He shoves “Richard” out of the way and goes right after “Not Richard”. He drills Not Richard in the head with some stiff right hands as Richard falls into the corner. Syren goes for a roundhouse right but Not Richard grabs Syren’s fist and flings it away. Syren staggers back surprised. Not Richard Ghost leaps out of the corner and spears Syren to the ground!! Syren lands hard, holding his midsection in pain]
Smith: What the…
Hood: Dude, Richard has either been working out or did a shit load of drugs before this match
Smith: That is almost inhuman strength right there
Hood: It’s like when Shredder drank all that gooey shit at the end of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2…we’ve got Super Richard…or, well, Radical Richard!
Smith: Evidently…
[‘Richard’, meanwhile, is lying unconscious on the ring mat. Not Richard lifts Syren off the mat and over his head. He parades around the ring with Syren in Gorilla Press Slam position before tossing Syren from the ring and into the bar which is like 20 feet away! Syren crashes into the bar, bounces off and his body shatters the glass bottles and mirror across from it. Destroying the aesthetically pleasing set up…A chant for “Not Dick!” starts in the bar as Not Richard sort of hovers through the ropes and across the ground towards Syren]
Smith: Richard is giving me a serious case of the creeps
Hood: Man, that was a lot of alcohol Not Richard destroyed right there…not gonna lie, I’m slightly pissed off.
Smith: You want to take it up with cloth covered man currently hovering across the floor?
Hood: Nah, I’m cool
[Not Richard reaches the bar and he jumps up on top of it. Reaching down, he grabs Syren by the hair. Syren responds by smashing a bottle of Grey Goose vodka over Not Richrad’s head! It shatters as Not Richard hops off the bar and stands on the other side with the wooden bar in between the two competitors. Syren is fully upright with a broken bottle of Goose in his hand. He climbs over the bar and goes after Not Richard, swiping at him with the jagged edges of the broken bottle. Not Richard dodges each swipe with ease. It finally grabs Syren’s forearm after one ill-fated jab and headbutts Syren! Syren staggers back against the bar. Not Richard hovers back into the ring and then kind of floats up onto the apron and then through the ropes. Syren blinks hard once or twice before turning around and locating a giant, unbroken bottle of everclear. He unscrews the cap and takes a giant swig. His sheet, which is now soaked in liquor, water, soda and blood, is lifted by his right arm and we see a fairly deep gash across his left side. Syren pours some everclear over it to cleanse the wound. He winces, slightly, before returning the bottle to his lips and downing another large amount of the highly alcoholic beverage]
Smith: Who would have thought that a Spooky Ghost Match was right in Richard’s wheel house.
Hood: Nah man, I’m really starting to believe that truly is NOT Richard.
Smith: So, you think the guy labeled Richard who’s been knocked out for nearly five minutes after a simple shove could actually be the REAL Richard?
Hood: Yea…that or he’s some super human floating being underneath a sheet that never fucking gets dirty…look at that thing, white as my teeth.
Smith: Your teeth are NOT that white
Hood: Hurtful, bro
[Syren nearly finishes off the bottle of everclear until his spots a very slutty looking casino girl standing nearby. He walks over and offers her the rest under one condition. She must down it immediately and then party with him after the match. Not one to deny her slutty exterior, the female quickly complies and starts downing the nearly pure alcoholic liquid. Syren then rushes back into the ring to attempt at finishing off Not Richard. Not Richard is doing a pirouette on the top rope when he sees Syren enter. He leaps off the rope with a 1080 corkscrew moonsault senton bomb guilltone leg drop flying forearm clothesline!! It connects! He goes for the pin. The ghost ref hears “count!” but he has a tough time seeing…so he just drops to the mat and starts slapping it]
1!
2!
KICK OUT
Smith: Not Richard nearly pinned the OCW legend!
Hood: That ref counted too fast…this match was a set up…who IS Not Richard??
Smith: Evidently he’s Not Richard
Hood: Yes, I know that…but who is Not Richard
Smith: I’m not partaking in this charade with you
[Syren kicks out with force as Not Richard flies high…really high, actually and he actually suspends himself in mid air for much longer than a human probably should. He hovers to his feet. Syren returns to his and he runs Not Richard over with a clothesline!! Not Richard sits up and gets back to his feet. Syren stomps him back to the mat as hard as he can. Not Richard sits up again. Syren rolls his eyes and flicks him off. He knees Not Richard in the head. Again, Not Richard sits up. Syren helps Not Richard to his feet, secures his head and drops him with an Inverted DDT!! Syren goes for the pin but Ghost Ref falls out of the ring due to his impaired sight when trying to make the count. Syren slaps the mat three times before yelling “Come the fuck on!” He heads outside to collect Ghost Ref]
Smith: Syren had Not Richard for the three count and the ref just fell out of the ring
Hood: Stupid Generic ref…Scruff would have totally made that count
Smith: You think?
Hood: Dude, he’s a fucking bum. He like lives his life without lights and clear vision…truth be told, the fucking guy should probably ref all matches blindfolded.
Smith: Wouldn’t make him any worse, I suppose
Hood: Don’t you besmirch the good name of Scruff
[Syren hurls Ghost Ref back into the ring and slides in behind him. He rips the face off of Ghost Ref’s costume so he can enjoy full vision. Syren goes back after Not Richard. Not Richard rises to his feet and grabs Syren by the throat. Syren has clearly had enough of this guy. He kicks Not Richard in the balls. Not Richard doesn’t even react…Syren slaps his arm away from his throat and rips his ghost costume off…there is nothing underneath]
Smith: …
Hood: …
Syren: …
Ghost Ref: …
Crowd: …
[A gust of wind blows through the ring as Syren tosses the sheet away and looks around, waiting for something awful to happen. Instead, the gust blows towards the now totally drunk casino whore girl and she’s lifted into the air and carried out of the bar. Syren becomes infuriated that his post match prize has been snatched away. He grabs Ghost Ref by the throat, hoisting him in the air…Ghost Ref warns of a Disqualification]
Smith: Was that…
Hood: I think it fucking was
Smith: But I don’t believe in…
Hood: Ha, well now I bet you fucking do…and that ghost is about to get his ghost cock sucked
Smith: How is that even possible?
Hood: Hey man, the greek gods or whatever impregnated women all the time…I’m sure it works just like that
Smith: Yes they did…but those stories are also called Greek MYTHOLOGY
Hood: Just cause something is a myth doesn’t mean it’s not true
Smith: THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT IT MEANS!
[Syren drops Ghost Ref and brushes him off. Ghost Ref thanks him. Syren walks over to ‘Richard’…who hasn’t moved. Syren yanks him to his feet and rips the head off of his costume revealing it to actually be Richard. Syren smiles, grabs his head and drops him with the Block Burner!! Syren goes for the pin as Ghost Ref makes the count]
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner…SCOTT SYREN!!!!!
[Syren reaches his feet and, now that the match is over, he decks Ghost Ref for being a dick. Ghost Ref falls to the mat and is completely unconscious. Syren exits the ringside area as the fans all in attendance are freaking out. Friends and family of the casino whore…which is surprising that she actually has some…are talking to casino authorities about the very unearthly abduction of their friend/daughter/sister…wife? Probably.]
Smith: That was weird
Hood: And enlightening…but, hey, how about this? Syren had that fucking ghost pinned for the three count…he didn’t need any proton pack like those pussy Ghostbusters.
Smith: Yea, I’m going to not really comment on anything I just saw because I’m not 100% sure that you or Syren didn’t drop something in my Smart Water causing me to hallucinate during this match.
Hood: It’s all real, bro…it’ll be profiled on Ghost Hunters, just wait and see…that will be all the verification you need towards its validity.
Smith: Oh yea, Ghost Hunters, the end all be all when it comes to the spiritual realm.
Hood: Glad we’re on the same page, we should really have a Ghost Hunters party some time…I paint blue berries white and call them boo berries…get it?
Smith: That’s just ripping off a popular cereal
Hood: Ugh, whatever…you’re obviously no fun
Smith: That’s fine with me…let’s head backstage
[We cut backstage. Amber had made her way into the parking lot looking for Anubis, having become so frustrated at the mind games that she had evidently taken the chair to some poor unsuspecting hacks car, which was in serious need of new windows. She was about to head inside when a car pulled up beside her. Out jumped a balding man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a ruffled brown suit. Amber chose to ignore him, but he grabbed her arm as she went to walk away]
???: Miss Ryan, my name is Derek Eisenhower, you have to listen to me. I know who you are looking for, but isn’t him.
[Amber stared at the old man, before smacking his hand off her]
Amber: I don’t know who you are, but fuck off and leave me alone.
Eisenhower: It isn’t him Amber, it isn’t him.
Amber: What the fuck are you on about old man, of course it’s him, the son of a bitch hasn’t left me alone…
[She was silenced as a motorbike shot by the two of them , the driver’s left arm reached out, wrapping itself around the neck of the old doctor, dragging him away from the scene. Confused, but undeterred, Amber turned back to the building, looking at her last resort]
Smith: That Eisenhower got a bit grabby
Hood: Yea and I don’t see any TRO being thrown his way…life just isn’t fucking fair, man
Smith: He only grabbed her arm
Hood: Guy has no dedication to the stalk cause
Smith; In any event…Amber’s night continues to get stranger…Doctor Eisenhower was apparently stolen away by two people on a motorcycle
Hood: You think he betrayed his biker gang?
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: I’m just saying, those guys ride hard
Smith: I have a feeling that before the night is out, we are going to get to the bottom of this
Hood: Sweet
Smith: Until then, however, we have some more matches…including our next match featuring the OCW Southern Champion!
Hood: Pryde, with a Y!
Smith: Let’s head to the ice rink
[Our feed cuts to a ice rink in Nevada. Fans are lining the barrier to the rink in high anticipation for the match. Syren’s face appears on a TV screen inside the ice rink]
Syren: Wow, is everybody having a neat time so far?! Just kidding, I Don't care. Next up is our Big Bifford-inspired Ice Skating Mule, Teddy Bear match!
[A few old-school OCW fans either cheer loudly or groan even loudly-er, depending on their perception of the Biff era.]
Syren: Unfortunately, I never bothered to go to the video archives and figure out what an Ice Skating Mule, Teddy Bear match actually is, so we're going to WING IT!!! Up first, some guy who used to be a decent wrestler... The Lost Soul!
[“Friday the 13th Theme” begins to play as TLS atop a very healthy looking mule appears on one side of the rink]
Syren: And his executioner—I mean opponent—your OCW Southern Champion... co-founder of Operation Zero... the man in the iron mask, except it isn't iron so I don't know why I said that... the undefeated... the undefeatable... bros and hoes, here is... Pryde!!!]
[“Dangerous” by Within Temptation starts up as Pryde appears on his mule. His mule is smaller than TLS’ mule, but it appears to be more athletic. More stealthy…more lucha libre. Pryde’s music dies out]
[The bell sounds as Syren disappears from the TV screen. A light illuminates the fairly dark rink. We can see that TLS mule has its face painted just like TLS]
Smith: Well, here we are…ANOTHER ice skating mule match
Hood: It’s been far too long, Smith.
Smith: Not long enough, I would have been happy having never been forced to call one of these ever again.
Hood: I think TLS has the edge in this match…he painted his donkey’s face…that’s extreme male bonding.
Smith: They are mules, not donkeys
Hood: There’s a difference?
Smith: Yes…mule is the offspring of a male donkey and a female horse…a donkey is, ya know, a donkey.
Hood: It’s sad you know that.
[The ice skating ref tosses each competitor a teddy bear. We see the assembled crowd are all holding teddy bears as well. Interim President Syren obviously went through great lengths to rid OCW of these cheap teddy bears. Pryde and TLS sit atop their ice skating mules…a stare down ensues. Finally, they both kick their animals in the side as the mules begin to skate toward one another as if this were a medieval joust]
Smith: Wow, I’m actually impressed by the form and technique of those mules.
Hood: They skate better than I ever could.
Smith: Indeed.
[The mules skate near one another as TLS and Pryde are ready with their teddy bears. The mules rush past one another as TLS and Pryde both take a wicked strike at each other, hoping to knock their opponent off his mount. Both seem fairly secure as the mules slow and come to a stop. Instantly, both mules fall to the ice with Pryde and TLS slamming into the ice cold surface as well]
Smith: Apparently the mules are all tired out…or that skating joust was merely an aberration as far as their ice skating abilities are concerned.
Hood: Dude, you know what I just realized?
Smith: That this match is ludicrous and a waste of two enormously talented performers?
Hood: Fuck no…we’ve got a battle for home town supremacy taking place right in front of us.
Smith: Huh?
Hood: Both guys are from a little place called…Parts Unknown
Smith: Oh geez
[Pryde reaches his feet and has trouble maintaining balance with the ice skates attached to his walking utensils. TLS is trapped under the mule who is resting and refuses to move. Pryde removes the skates and sort of slides his way towards TLS as TLS is helpless to move or do anything]
Smith: That mule may be a little overfed
Hood: Skating rinks are known for horrible food like sloppy nachos and cardboard textured pizzas.
Smith: Do you really think TLS was feeding his mule roller rink food before the match?
Hood: Fuck yea, I fucking saw it. The damn thing mule’d or whatever noise they make for extra jalapenos. It’s a wonder he made it onto the ice.
Smith: Whatever
[Pryde is standing over TLS and he leaps in the air for a legdrop…TLS, though, finally slips free and Pryde lands hard on the icy surface!! He grabs his leg in pain as TLS struggles to his feet. Once he does, he shoves his mule away with his foot…the mule slides across the ice towards the barrier where he continues to chill. TLS yanks Pryde to his feet and goes for a punch but Pryde blocks it! Both men stagger on the ice for a second before Pryde nails TLS with a stiff right hand!! TLS almost falls down…Pryde is about to fall forward when he makes the best of a bad situation and leaps forward with a flying clothesline!! TLS lands hard on the ice with the back of his head smashing off of it. Pryde hits his left shoulder hard and rolls over, quickly sitting up as the ice is super cold on his bare skin]
Smith: Finally, some wrestling moves
Hood: Ah, yea, it’s all downhill from here
Smith: I beg to differ
Hood: You look like a begger
[Pryde crawls to his feet and he yanks TLS to his…he kicks TLS in the gut and maintains his balance while doing so. He then drops TLS to the ice with a DDT!! It lands with a loud “CRACK” as the fans in attendance cringe. There is a slight hint of red seeping into the ice underneath The Lost Soul’s face]
Smith: A DDT has never been more dangerous
Hood: Yea, it knocked that paint right off his lips
Smith: I think that’s blood
Hood: Dude, clowns can’t bleed
Smith: Who on Earth told you that?
[Pryde’s mule suddenly re-enters into the scene continuing to show hardcore ice skating skills. Pryde has an idea. TLS slowly returns to his feet with a giant red blood spot on his forehead. The extent of the cut is unknown due to his face paint. Pryde climbs on top of the mule and he pets the mule, relaxing the stubborn animal. Pryde then leaps off with a front flip at TLS…he hooks his legs around TLS’s neck and tosses him to the ice with a huricanrana!! Pryde holds on for the pin as the ice skating ref flies into view with a Triple Lutz! The crowd oooh’s and ahhh’s at his perfection. He then gets into position and slaps the ice]
1!
2!
3!!!
[Somewhere a bell rings, an angle gets its wings and Pryde has his arm raised]
Belvedere: Here is your winner…the OCW Southern Champion…PRYDE!!!!!
Smith: Tremendous win for Pryde, especially when you consider the circumstances.
Hood: What are you talking about? Pryde looked right at home out there.
Smith: Not really
Hood: Eh, well, whatever…TLS lost again…
Smith: Does that surprise you?
Hood: Not as much as his lazy ass mule. That thing needs to go on a fucking diet. It’s still chilling out on the ice…wouldn’t it be getting cold by now?
Smith: He has a very thick coat of fur
Hood: Skin it. I need a new winter wardrobe
Smith: Not going to happen…folks, let’s go backstage.
[A loud banging noise echo's down the corridor as Mia Stone is seen hammering something to a door. She steps back looking pretty pleased with herself, picks up her tool bag and walks away. The camera pans in on the door of Victory Denied and a note has been nailed in alongside various bits of chicken carcass]
“Dearest Ian,
P.S You're a dick.”
[We cut back to ringside]
Smith: Turnabout is fair play…nicely penned letter there by Mia Stone!
Hood: She dug the chicken as well…so how is it racist? Fried chicken is fucking great, man
Smith: Probably a little tongue in cheek within that statement as evidenced by her post script
Hood: Oh, where she said “I want your dick”
Smith: She called him a…well, you know
Hood: That’s not how I read it
Smith: Because you’re perverted
Hood: Eh well, nobody is perfect I guess
Smith: Sheesh…alright folks, it’s time for our second Western Title Tournament match as the OCW LightWeight Champion Curt Canon takes on Jason Xavier
Hood: Oh, cool…this one should be fun
Smith: I guess…just as long as Gary Busey or Skeletor, whoever that is, aren’t the ref
Hood: SKELETOR IS HERE? Let’s go down to ringside RIGHT NOW!
Special Guest Referee Match
Curt Canon (2-0) vs. Jason Xavier (5-5)
[Hood holds up his iPhone as Syren’s image appears on it in front of our camera view]
Syren: It's time for another Western Title Tournament match... our mystery guest referee match! Who will it be? Gary Busey? Skeletor? Dick Cheney? It might even be James Vorex—crazier things have happened!
Hood: The suspense is killing me... who is the guest referee going to be?!
Smith: You really never get tired of these Operation Zero farces?
Hood: This isn't a farce. You don't have any proof that Skeletor isn't here.
Syren: First, he's some dude, he's a professional wrestler, he was a member of The Family for like fourteen minutes... Jason Xavier!!!
[As "Lights Out" By Hollywood Undead begin to blast through the P.A. system, white smoke fills the entrance a figure steps in and can be seen in the smoke and Jason X stands at the top of the entrance with his arms up in an X form. He continues to walk down the ramp and enters the ring; he then climbs the turnbuckles and again puts his arms in an X form.]
Syren: And he'll be facing the Lightweight Champion who packs a Heavyweight Punch... a soon-to-be OCW Hall of Famer... the mother of majestic bulls... the best friend a best friend could ask for... it's Curt Canon!!!
[“Figure 8” by Trust Company begins to play as the crowd gives a mixed reaction to the OCW LightWeight Champion, Curt Canon. He rushes down to the ring, slides in and hands his title over to Belvedere]
Syren: Now... let's wait and see who will come out to be our guest referee! Gary Busey? Skeletor? James Vorex?
Hood: I can hardly sit still! I know it's gonna be Skeletor, I can just feel it!
[Canon and Xavier stand back, awaiting the special ref as Hood turns off his Syren app on his iPhone. Belvedere stands up to address the special ref situation.]
Belvedere: And now for the special ref…Skeletor, James Vorex and Gary Busey have all arrived at the same time. They are standing at the bottom of the ramp, whoever makes it to the ring first will be the ref!
[All three refs stand, waiting for the signal. Belvedere drops his arm and they take off. Well, Busey and Vorex take off…Skeletor just kind of falls apart into a pile of bones. Vorex is clearly far superior to Busey in terms of athleticism so, like a dick, he mocks Busey on the way to the ring. While doing so, he trips over a potato from an earlier match and falls, slamming the back of his head onto the mall floor. Busey takes the lead as the crowd goes wild! Vorex gets back to his feet and tries to trip Busey, but Busey keeps his balance. Vorex starts to crawl…gets to his feet, both men are now neck and neck…Busey leaps out and grabs the bottom rope with his teeth! The bell rings as the crowd goes wild!! Vorex falls back in a seated position and looks up at Curt with sadness in his eyes]
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…I present your special ref…GARY BUSEY
[Canon just kind of shrugs…at least it wasn’t Skeletor. Vorex heads to the back as Belvedere exits the ring, the bell sounds and the match is underway]
Smith: Gary Busey is now our special ref…wow
Hood: Those teeth man, those fucking teeth
Smith: That and Vorex’s inability to be a graceful winner…cost him and possibly his best friend this match
Hood: Why? Is Busey a big Xavier fan?
Smith: I don’t know, but Vorex is a big Canon fan
[Canon and Xavier quickly lock up in the middle of the ring as the fans cheer, excited for this match to get underway. Xavier is quick on the offense by kneeing Canon in the gut. The fans give the hometown wrestler a loud cheer as it’s obvious who they are going to be pulling for. Xavier quickly hooks Canon around the waist for a gut wrench suplex, but, instead, lifts Canon up and drops him with a gut wrench powerbomb!! Canon lands hard as Xavier hops back to his feet and plays to the crowd who cheers loudly]
Smith: Jason Xavier is from Las Vegas…this hometown crowd is firmly behind him
Hood: First Vorex fucks up and now this revelation? Could the odds be stacked ANYMORE against Canon?
Smith: To be fair, it’s not like those are insurmountable odds
Hood: I think it’s time for a Gary Busey bribe…five dollars should work
[Xavier stands back and waits for Canon to get to his feet. Canon does and Xavier sprints in, grabs Canon’s head and drops him with a sprinting swinging neck breaker!! Canon lands hard, grabbing the back of his head and neck in pain. Xavier yanks Canon to his feet and whips him into the nearest corner, Canon hits hard. Xavier charges in but Canon lifts his leg, kicking Xavier in the face!! Xavier staggers back as Canon sprints in! Xavier, though, leaps into the air and dropkicks Canon in the head!! Canon falls to the mat, in pain]
Smith: Perfectly executed dropkick there by Jason Xavier!
Hood: Fuck, I thought Curt Canon was going to get something going
Smith: Both of these guys are really athletic and super quick
Hood: Nothing like having two really fast guys in a match being ref’d by Gary fucking Busey
Smith: Could be problematic
[Xavier quickly goes to the mat and locks Canon in a single leg boston crab. Busey kind of looks on with a crazy, wide eyed look as Xavier looks up at him, confused. Xavier releases the hold and yells at Busey, informing him that he’s supposed to ask the opponent if they are going to submit when they are locked in a hold. Busey does not understand what Xavier is talking about. Canon quickly rolls Xavier up amidst their arguing as Busey just kind of looks on]
Smith: Oh geez, this guy has no idea what he’s doing
Hood: Damnit, Busey…get with the program
Smith: You would think someone backstage could have at least told him when and how to count to three
Hood: They probably did…but, you know Busey, it’s already forgotten…or was never remembered in the first place.
Smith: Indeed
[Xavier kicks out as Canon hops to his feet and ignores Busey’s lack of awareness. Canon runs into the ropes, bounces off, Xavier reaches his feet…Canon jumps into the air and goes for a huricanrana but Xavier holds on and carries Xavier to the ropes, looking to powerbomb him over the top…Canon, though, reverses it and tosses Xavier over the top rope with a huricanrana where he lands roughly on the mall floor. Canon falls onto the ring apron, holding on so he doesn’t fall to the floor. Suddenly, Busey flies into the screen and he kicks Canon off the apron and to the floor! Canon lands hard as the fans cheer Busey]
Smith: What is he doing??
Hood: Busey must think he’s in the match…
Smith: Oh for the love…can we get a REAL ref out here?
Hood: Nope
[Canon gets to his feet and he looks at Busey who is smiling, flashing his huge teeth. Canon rolls his eyes and he goes after Xavier. Xavier punches Canon in the gut…Xavier gets to his feet, lifts Canon up and drops him to the floor with a spinebuster!! Xavier picks Canon up and he hurls him back into the ring. Busey gets on top of Canon and goes for the pin. Xavier is at the top rope and looks down, confused]
Smith: He DOES think he’s in this match!
Hood: Busey for the win!
Smith: No, that’s an impossible scenario
Hood: Bring Skeletor’s bones out here, he can ref this triple threat
Smith: NO!
[Busey must have heard Hood because he rolls out the ring and sprints for Skeletor’s bones. Xavier, meanwhile, leaps off the top rope and drills Canon with a Guillotine leg drop!! Xavier gets to his feet and he lifts Canon up…he whips Canon into the ropes, Canon bounces off and Xavier drops him with a spinning wheel kick!! Busey has unearthed one of Skeletor’s hands…he runs back to the ring with it]
Smith: This is just insane…ruining a highly competitive match
Hood: If by ruining you mean making it totally awesome…then, yea, I agree
Smith: Why can’t Jason Xavier ever be in a NORMAL match?
Hood: Because he’s Mister X!
Smith: He has never gone by that moniker…ever
[Busey gets to his feet as Xavier walks up to him, yelling at him…Xavier tries to get it through Busey’s dense head that he’s the ref, not a competitor. Busey backhands Xavier with Skeletor’s hand! Xavier gets angry and throws a punch at Busey…Busey ducks and Canon rolls Xavier up! Busey drops Skeletor’s hand as it slaps the mat]
1!
….
Smith: Oh for the love
Hood: Skeletor stopped counting! The fix is in! He’s obviously on team Xavier!
Smith: IT’S JUST A BONEY HAND!
Hood: Well of course, Skeletor isn’t called Skinator for a reason…dumbass
[Xavier kicks out as Canon gets to his feet. Busey locks Canon in a full nelson…Canon yells ‘what the fuck’ and tries to get out of it. Xavier charges in with a spear as Canon moves out of the way and Xavier spears Busey to the mat!! Busey is motionless on his back as Xavier gets up, surprised that he speared Busey. Canon comes up from behind of Xavier and he hooks Xavier for a reverse DDT…he lifts him up for a reverse suplex but Xavier lands on his feet behind Canon. He hooks Canon around the waist and tosses him across the ring and into the mat with a release German Suplex!!]
Smith: Fast and furious action and, finally, Busey has been subdued
Hood: This is bad news for Canon as Skeletor’s hand is obviously in the tank for Jason Xavier
Smith: I don’t believe that lifeless, boney hand is in the tank for anyone
Hood: I see where your loyalties lie
Smith: Yes…my loyalties lie exactly where they also do…as an impartial announcer who wants to call a legit wrestling match which doesn’t involve Gary Busey, Skeletor’s hand or any other ridiculous stipulation.
[Xavier gets to the top rope as Canon returns to his feet. Xavier leaps off for a front drop kick but Canon catches his legs!! Canon then falls back and catapults Xavier into the ropes!! Xavier’s neck rakes across the top as he staggers back…Canon picks him up and drops him to the mat with a DVD!! Canon goes for the pin but nobody is there to count]
Hood: Fucking Skeletor…he is REFUSING to count
Smith: Will you stop being ridiculous
Hood: Only thing ridiculous is Skeletor’s biased ref job…
Smith: Why would Skeletor refuse be on Xavier’s side anyway? Xavier is the face in this match…Skeletor is a heel.
Hood: Skeletor is only a heel if you like that fag He-Man
Smith: DON’T YOU CALL HE-MAN THAT
Hood: Someone hit a nerve
[James Vorex sprints down to ringside. He watches from the outside as Canon gets to his feet and he yanks Xavier up. Xavier kicks Canon in the gut and he goes for another swinging neck breaker…mid move Canon counters and he instantly drops Xavier with Cross Rhodes!! Xavier is laid out as Vorex slides into the ring and grabs Busey’s lifeless arm. He slaps the ring with it]
1!
2!
3!!!
[The bell rings as Vorex helps Canon to his feet and raises his hand in victory]
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance to the second round of the OCW Western Title Tournament…The OCW LightWeight Champion…CURT CANON!!!!!
Smith: Never thought I’d say this…but thank goodness for James Vorex
Hood: He was just evening out the odds due to Skeletor’s biased behavior
Smith: Yea, well, whatever…I’m just glad that insanity is over with…folks…let’s cut to some video footage we’ve just obtained from earlier this afternoon…it’s significance is paramount in regards to our upcoming Tag Team contest.
[We cut to taped footage from earlier in the day. Inside the luxrious Aria hotel and casino. Ian Bishop enters through the main entrance and immediately catches a couple of gorgeous women in short skirts heading for the strip. He watches them exit, shakes his head and says under his breath "Vegas". Not one to waste time, he immediately returns to his mission and heads into the casino area. Looking around, he attempt to decipher where he might find OCW's president. The words "High Limit Room" appear as he's panning the pit area and he instantly heads that way. Entering into the High Limit room, Lurrr is seen seated at a Black Jack table. In front of him are a stack of purple, $500 chips. Rick Mathis is standing next to Lurrr as Ian walks up. Rick instantly recognizes Bishop and places his hand in Ian's chest. Ian slaps it away as Rick pauses before causing a scene. Lurrr turns around after hearing the slight scuffle and he sees Ian. He turns back around, placing a purple chip into the betting circle]
Lurrr: You better have accidentally stumbled upon me. You know I'm taking the day off.
Ian Bishop: And you should know I don't accidentally do anything. I came to talk to you... day off or not.
[Lurrr looks up at Mathis as Mathis waits for the go ahead to attempt at dragging Ian away. Lurrr's eyes send Mathis the message of 'hold on'. Lurrr loses his current bet and places three purple chips into the betting circle. The dealer deals Lurrr's hand. While he does, Lurrr continues]
Lurrr: Just because I did you a solid the other night doesn't mean we're friends...one thing you should know about me is I don't like anybody. I hate dealing with you guys when I'm actually on the clock...I damn sure don't want to do it during my free time. If you've got an issue about tonight's lineup, take it up with Syren.
Ian Bishop: Like I give a flying fuck about Scott Syren and his gang of merry men. I don't talk to one-night President, commissioners or general managers... I go to the man who writes the cheques. By the way, is that my pay cheque you’re losing on this blackjack table?
[Lurrr scowls and emits a few choice words under his breath as Ian's comment comes right at the same moment where he loses the three purple chips. With five purple chips in front of him, Lurrr shows his aggressive side by placing them all out in the betting circle. Ian stands there watching, as Lurrr looks over at Mathis and nods. Mathis moves to escort Ian away. Lurrr receives his cards, it's a sixteen...the dealer has a ten. Lurrr has been busting all night so he's about to stay when Ian calls out]
Ian Bishop: Hit it...if you lose, fire me
[Lurrr smiles, liking that wager. Lurrr hits it. He gets a five...making 21. Dealer flips over a 20...Lurrr wins his biggest bet of the day. He turns around on his stool trying his best not to look too pleased]
Lurrr: Alright jackass, you've got 2 minutes
Incredible Ian: Ian Bishop: That's what I thought. Now, first off, thank you for placing me into the Central title match. You didn't give me a solid either... that was you doing the right thing, after all, I never did get my rematch clause like I wanted. Secondly, and bit more importantly, Victory Denied is your best tag team you got but there is one problem, we don't have tag titles around our waists. You need to fix that.
Lurrr: Who are our tag champs, anyway? Andy Ryan and Jenny B or some shit like that?
Rick Mathis: Close, but not quite, boss
[Lurrr looks up the OCW website on his phone]
Lurrr: Ohh, yea, I was close. Hmm, yea I wouldn't mind seeing the belts off of those two. Something about their faces...makes me want to punch them. But I can't exactly hand out a tag title shot to a team who has never had an actual tag match yet...ya know? Only person who would deserve that would be yours truly
Ian Bishop: I can't wait to be in the Hall of Fame so I can talk that much bull shit like you do... so how about this then, El Urrr, if we beat those Hollywood Boys, brothers, kids, incestual lovers, whatever tonight... we get a title shot at Clash at the Coast.
[Lurrr looks at his 10 purple chips equally 5,000 dollars. He slides them into the betting circle and looks back at Ian]
Lurrr: May as well stay true to form. Play the hand...if you win, you get your request. I still keep the money, of course.
Ian Bishop: I get the request... and five hundred dollars.
Lurrr: Yea, that's not gonna happen. If you want money...earn the title shot by winning me this hand of black jack and then defeating the Hollywood Brothers later tonight. Then, parlay those two wins into a Tag Title victory at Clash at the Coast and, only at that point, will you receive financial compensation.
[The hand starts before Ian can protest. Lurrr receives a fourteen. Dealer has an 8. Ian hits, Lurrr receives a six. Dealer flips over a 10. Lurrr wins. He slams the table with his fist in excitement. He turns back around to address Bishiop]
Lurrr: Alright, you've got your match
[Lurrr motions at the dealer and Mathis. Extra security approaches to force Ian away]
Ian Bishop: I'll fucking walk myself out... you fucking idiots.
Lurrr: Oh, Ian...I changed my mind about your financial compensation.
[He flips a white, one dollar chip at Ian. Instinctively, Ian catches it]
Lurrr: Thanks for the help, pal
[Ian nods as he turns around and walks away silently...]
Lurrr: Alright, back to business...
[Lurrr, feeling his luck running high...throws all the money he has won into the betting circle. We cut to Ian who's almost at the front doors...suddenly an angry "SON OF A FUCKING BITCH, YOU CHEATED ME" echoes throughout the casino...it sounds very much like Lurrr. Ian smiles as he exits the Aria. The feed ends and we focus back on the announce team.]
Hood: I can’t believe it
Smith: Shocking, I know…to make that kind of decision on such a whim
Hood: Not that…I can’t believe OCW President Lurrr lost all that money…sucks
Smith: He seems to be doing fine, fiscally speaking…much better than we are, anyway
Hood: Yea, that was like my year’s salary on that hand
Smith: No joke…but onto something important…if Victory Denied can defeat the Hollywood Brothers, they will receive a tag title shot against Amber Ryan and Danny B at Clash at the Coast
Hood: About damn time those titles got defended
Smith: Can’t argue with that…well, folks, the stakes have never been higher…let’s go down to ringside for our tag team match up…
The Hollywood Brothers (0-0) vs. Victory Denied (0-0)
[Suddenly Scott Syren’s image appears blaring on the side of a wall via a giant projector of some sort.]
Syren: Wow! What an amazing night we're having so far, hey gang? Hey is it just me, or is anybody else hungry? What do you say we get a BUNCH OF FUCKING CREAM CHEESE UP IN HERE?
[The crowd murmurs like “umm okay I guess” as the ring crew fits the sandbox-like structure around the apron and begins to dump massive ten-pound slabs of cream cheese into the ring.]
Syren: Awwww yeah, I haven't seen this much cheese since the last time I watched a Brianna Casablancas promo! Is everyone ready for the Pointlessly Degrading Tag Team Challenge?! Everyone give a warm OCW welcome to the newest members of our tag division, The Hollywood Brothers. I'm sure they're going to do really big things here!
[Syren winks at the camera as the crowd laughs loudly.]
[We cut to a shot inside the Planet Hollywood mall where a sandbox structure outside a ring located within the mall area and filled with cream cheese can be seen. The nWo Theme song begins to play as the fans standing around the mall watch the Hollywood Brothers approach the cream cheese sand box. They stand around it, looking at one another like this is crazy]
Syren: And their opponents... they call themselves Victory Denied, but I like to call them Incest Incorporated since they used to be in a Family together but they also have sex with one another—no just kidding, they're pretty cool... here are the two men who embody the new era of OCW... Ian Bishop and Sean Fuller!!!
[“The Whale Song” by Modest Mouse starts playing as the fans boo heavily when they see Ian Bishop and Sean Fuller make their way to the pit of Cream Cheese. Together, they stand on the opposite side of The Hollywood Brothers, staring at the Cream Cheese and then at their opponents. Bishop can be seen saying “This is Bullshit” whereas Fuller seems to merely be intent on harming his opponents]
[Syren’s image vanishes as the bell rings. Hollywood Skyes leans over and gets a whiff of the Cream Cheese. He expresses his displeasure with Belvedere, who is at ringside. Belvedere passes it along to Generic Ref. Generic Ref calls over what looks to be some kind of supervisor of human welfare…if there is such a thing…to come over. He takes a good, long, hard look at the suspect Cream Cheese]
Smith: What’s going on here, Hood?
Hood: Maybe Syren and company pushed the envelope a little too far with the ‘nearly bad’ cream cheese and got totally expired cream cheese.
Smith: Well, we don’t want to make our wrestlers sick over some strange gimmick match.
Hood: Wouldn’t bother me any
[The Supervisor for Human Welfare stands up and waves his arms in the air and speaks to Belvedere. Belvedere nods and makes an announcement]
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…I have just been informed that the Cream Cheese has turned. I repeat, the Cream Cheese has turned. Therefore, we cannot in good faith have these gentlemen wrestle in turned Cream Cheese. This match will now take place under street fight rules within this mall!
[Fuller and Bishop appear relieved…Bishop is really excited about the turn of events. The Hollywood Brothers look at one another before running around the pit of Cream Cheese and getting the jump on their opponents! Skyes goes after Fuller with kicks to the legs followed by forearm smashes to the head while Ryan is drilling Bishop in the head with vicious right hands. The crowd cheers, excited to see Bishop and Fuller being taken to task]
Smith: Alright! I am so happy those silly rules were tossed out!
Hood: The cream cheese turned, Smith…it turned…
Smith: Turned heel on Syren! Ha ha
Hood: Wow, your jokes fucking suck
[Skyes has Fuller backed against the ring post on the outside of the ring. He delivers a couple of brutal knee strikes into Fuller’s abdomen, causing Fuller to double over. Skyes then hooks Fuller’s head, lifts him up and drops him with a suplex onto the marble mall flooring! Fuller hits hard and grimaces in pain]
Smith: Hollywood Skyes is taking it to Sean Fuller!
Hood: That is, umm, unexpected
Smith: I’d love nothing more than to see that psycho Sean Fuller put in his place
Hood: And I’d like for one of those mega hot babes to walk over here and start sucking me off…point is, we can all dream, Smith
Smith: Gross
[Bishop has started to retaliate with punches of his own to Ryan. The two are now trading lefts and rights as they battle through the crowd, who parts to allow them space to roam. They near a cell phone kiosk a few feet away. The young woman working it rushes off, not wishing to experience anything violent. Bishop has Ryan staggering back against the kiosk…Ryan is leaning up against it, he reaches back and obtains a smart phone. He hurls his right arm forward and smashes Bishop in the head with the smart phone! Glass shatters everywhere as Bishop grabs his forehead in pain. Ryan then lunges forward with a sweeping elbow across the chin which knocks Bishop off of his feet. The crowd cheers watching Bishop take some abuse at the hands of the OCW newcomer]
Smith: Smart way to use a phone, eh?
Hood: Would please stop with the attempted humor?
Smith: I just get so giddy when I see Bishop and Fuller receiving their comeuppance.
Hood: Yea? Well I’d calm the fuck down if I were you…the match just started like thirty seconds ago.
Smith: Sigh…indeed
[Skyes lifts Fuller to his feet and goes to toss him into the container of Cream Cheese!! Fuller, though, elbows Skyes in the abdomen, grabs him by the head and hurls him inside a nearby store which sells books. Skyes body goes flying through the entrance and crashes into a display of hard cover novels. Fuller walks in and grabs one of them, he looks at the cover and it’s apparently some kind of vampire zombie fantasy romance. He spits on it and then slaps Skyes in the face with it repeatedly until Skyes’ nose starts to bleed. Fuller then rips the novel in half. He picks up the wooden display, lifts it over his head and crashes it down onto Skyes’ body! The fans boo the hated Fuller]
Smith: HEY! I love that book!
Hood: You would
Smith: It’s a highly emotionally driven novel about a love story for the ages
Hood: Oh really? Wow? What a ‘novel’ concept…ha ha ha
Smith: And you thought my jokes were bad
[Ryan has Bishop on his feet and he looks at the cell phone kiosk, signaling that he’s planning on hurling Bishop through the kiosk. He goes to throw Bishop head first into the kiosk…Bishop, though, blocks it, grabs Ryan around the waist and tosses him into the Kiosk with a belly to belly suplex!!! The cheaply made kiosk crumbles to the ground with Ryan underneath all the rubble and several cell phones as the fans boo with Bishop holding his arm up in triumph]
Smith: What a reversal by Ian Bishop!
Hood: I had been hearing rumors he wasn’t happy with his current cell phone plan.
Smith: Really?
Hood: No……dumbass
Smith: Well, how should I know?!
[Fuller is perusing the book store and finds a fresh pot of boiling coffee. Instantly he comes up with a way to make good use of the super hot liquid. Removing the pot from its mega hot stove thing he carries it towards Skyes. Skyes looks up and sees Fuller heading towards him with hot coffee. Skyes lunges forward and spears Fuller to the ground!!! The pot of coffee falls harmlessly to the floor, spilling its contents. Skyes grabs the pot and starts to slam it repeatedly into the head of Fuller. Fuller roles away and grabs a nearby table…he yanks the table down providing a barrier between himself and Skyes. Skyes hurls the pot aside and stands up. He reaches over the table and pulls Fuller to his feet…he lifts Fuller up for a suplex, but drops him front first across the side of the table! Fuller clutches his abdomen, rolling around in pain]
Smith: Thankfully no third degree burns were accrued in the making of this match.
Hood: Pretty sad waste of perfectly good coffee
Smith: It looks like French vanilla
Hood: How the hell does coffee look anything other than black and hot? Are you some kind of clairvoyant coffee connoisseur?
Smith: You got me
[Bishop grabs a fairly sturdy pole which was one of the strongholds of the now demolished kiosk. He bangs it against the ground fairly aggressively finding that it should be useful for bashing an opponent. Bishop lifts the pole over his head…Ryan kicks Bishop in the knee. Bishop staggers back, Ryan gets to his feet and he grabs the back of Bishop’s head, kneeing him in the face! Ryan yanks the pole away from Bishop, holds it horizontally and runs Bishop over by clotheslining him with the pole. Ryan then slams the pole into Bishop several times before going for a pin. Generic ref runs in out of nowhere to make the count]
1!
2!
Kick Out
Smith: Ryan can really work a pole
Hood: I’m sure you’d know
Smith: Of course I would, we just saw it happen live
Hood: He was really beating that thing around like crazy, wasn’t he?
Smith: I KNOW! It was intense!
[Back inside the book store, Skyes has Fuller leaning up against a book shelf. He delivers a couple of knees into Fuller’s already tender midsection. Skyes goes to whip Fuller towards the checkout counter. Fuller reverses and Skyes back slams into the checkout counter. Fuller rushes up, grabs Skyes head and slams him face first into the register!! It shoots open and money flies everywhere. Some fan who has had a rough go of it at the casino runs in lusting for green. Fuller kicks him in the face, knocking him out. Skyes attempts to a capitalize on Fuller’s distraction, running for a spear…Fuller knees him in the face, lifts him up and drops him with a brainbuster onto the hard floor!! Fans cringe as Skyes is motionless]
Smith: There’s no way Hollywood Skyes can comeback from this
Hood: Talk about a bad day…first that one guy loses all his money playing blackjack or something…then he gets beat up by Fuller.
Smith: Let’s not assume he was losing all his money in the casino…
Hood: True, maybe he fucked up and brought his wife with him to Vegas…huge mistake
Smith: Indeed…which is why I left mine at home this week
Hood: That explains all the half naked men I’ve seen walking up and down our floor at odd hours of the night.
Smith: First…wrongo! I’m married…second…what are you doing in the halls at all hours of the night?
Hood: Potential blackmail material
Smith: Ugh
[Ryan stands back, holding the pole in a strike position. Ian slowly picks himself up…Ryan throws a wild swing at Ian with the pole, Ian ducks! Ian does a spinning thrust kick into the midsection of Ryan! Ryan drops the pole and staggers back. He throws a punch, though, out of nowhere, nailing Ian in the face. Ian staggers back near the giant box of turned cream cheese. Ryan lunges towards Ian, looking to clothesline him into the nasty substance. Ian, though, ducks and he lifts Ryan up into the air and into the cream cheese with a back body drop!! Ryan smacks into the cream cheese as his body slowly disappears in the substance. One unlucky fan gets a glob of cream cheese on his face. Instinctively he licks it and instantly passes out]
Smith: Wow, that is some really bad cream cheese
Hood: Nah, I just think that guy is an extreme lactose intolerant douche bag
Smith: Was the d-bag really necessary?
Hood: Of course, all lactose intolerant people are douche bags
Smith: Good think I’m not lactose intolerant
Hood: Hey, I said all lactose intolerant people are douche bags…I didn’t say all douche bags are lactose intolerant.
[Fuller lifts Skyes to his feet and he carries his lifeless body to the store window. He looks out and sees Bishop standing near the cream cheese container. Fuller knocks on the window and looks at Bishop…Bishop looks back and they both nod, obviously on the same page. Fuller lifts Skyes up in the air into powerbomb position as Ian stands near the window. Fuller tosses Skyes THROUGH the window causing it to shatter! Ian jumps in the air and grabs Skyes body in midair with glass flying everywhere and drops him with a backstabber!! The crowd starts a “Fucking Shit” chant as Ian makes the cover amidst broken glass and blood. The generic ref rushes in and makes the count]
1!
2!
3!!!
[The bell rings as Fuller steps through the broken window. Ian gets to his feet, his knees are cut up and bloody, but he doesn’t seem to mind. The duo raises one another’s arms]
Belvedere: Here are your winners….VICTORY DENIED!!!!!
Smith: Wow! What a move!
Hood: Fuck yes, that’s what they call Your Victory Denied!
Smith: And now they have earned a shot at Clash at the Coast to take on Amber Ryan and Danny B for their Tag Titles.
Hood: A shot? More like a guaranteed victory!
Smith: Riiight…I wouldn’t count those chickens just yet
Hood: Are you calling Sean Fuller and Ian Bishop chickens??
Smith: I am not! Don’t put words into my mouth!
Hood: Okay, just making sure because I could totally inform them that you believe them to be chickens.
Smith: Not necessary…folks, let’s go backstage
[The lights go out in the arena as the OCWTron flashes white and black quickly in a strobe light like manner. A hush falls over the crowd as footsteps can be heard over the PA system as a group of disturbing images show on the screen, such as a dog corpse quickly eroding from maggots, the mushroom cloud from a nuclear bomb explosion, a large cross falling down and crashing into the church that it was stationed on, random war images also are shown. The images quickly come to an end as a single spotlight appears on the OCWTron, much like last week only a little closer to the camera than last Massacre, and footsteps are still heard through the PA system. They come to an end as a figure stops right at the edge of the light, a little more can be made out of the figure but still unrecognizable, obviously a male figure though. The man’s head is pointed towards the camera as a voice comes over the PA system]
Last week marked the start of a revolution in the OCW. Soon you all will no longer have to stomach the ramblings of a defeated man like Ian Bishop or suffer through another Big Bifford self-congratulatory monologue. Your savior will soon make his appearance in the OCW arena and then you will all rejoice and praise him. You will all see how great and powerful he is. The OCW will crumble at his feet and out of the wreckage a phoenix will emerge that he will tame and then pick up the rubble the is OCW and put it on his back soaring to new heights with it. Bowing at his mercy, the OCW locker room will grovel at his feet and beg for driving a once great organization to the ground. Decisions will be made. Lives will be lost. Your sins will soon be wiped clean and a new era will come to the OCW, the era of justice.
[The sound of footsteps can be heard once again as the male starts to step into the spotlight as the scene cuts off of the OCWTron and the same white lettering that appeared last week, appears once again, stating: “It’s Time To Meet Your Maker”. A copyright logo can be seen once again beside the tiny unreadable lettering below the massive print. The screen flickers black and white again quickly before the screen shuts off again and the lights in the arena come back on]
Hood: It’s Sullivan!
Smith: I said that last week!
Hood: You did no such thing! I’m the one who said that and then I stated how awesome it would be!
Smith: No you stated that I was wrong.
Hood: Bullshit!
Smith: I’ll have production pull the tape for you
Hood: You’re sleeping with the production guy so I’m sure he’ll do his mumbo jumbo magic editing and make me incorrect.
Smith: I’m…
Hood: Speak no more! Agree with me!
Smith: I will agree with…
[“Extreme” by Valora began to play as Amber Ryan stormed through the curtain, weapons still in hand, forgoing any of her usual aplomb, she heads straight for the ring and grabs a microphone]
Amber: Enough of this bullshit Anubis, get your ass out here now!
[She waits, pacing up and down the ring]
Amber: I said NOW asshole.
[The gong sounds, the light black out. They sound again, raising the lights, and revealing Anubis standing in the ring]
Anubis: Miss Ryan, you rang?
Amber: Don’t play smart with me asshole, this is coming to an end, and its coming right fucking now!
Anubis: Miss Ryan, there is nothing to come to an end. I trust that you are rejecting my offer then?
Amber: You’re damn fucking right I am you lunatic, there is no fucking way I would ever join you.
Anubis: That is… unfortunate.
[He strikes out, but Amber ducks, she swings the chair in retaliation, but he too manages to avoid the shot. She swings again and again, as much force as she could manage with each one, finally, the third attempt hits home, pushing Anubis backwards, she strikes again, this time hitting the leg and causing the giant to fall to his knee. She takes aim for the head, but he reaches up and clinches his hand round her throat. He stands up, lifting Amber into the air with a single hand, she kicks out desperately, catching him in the stomach, he drops her to the mat, but never lets her go]
[Amber starts to turn blue, her arms stop flailing. Anubis lifts her again, staring into her eyes, watching the life vanish from them. Suddenly the lights black out again. As they return, Amber is on the floor, whilst Anubis stares up at the entranceway. A voice, familiar yet strange rings through the arena:]
???: Why do birds, suddenly appear? Every time, you are near? Just like me, they long to be, killing you.
[Anubis looks up at the jumbo tron, atop stood a man. The man that attacked Anubis the week before, draped in black, his long black hair covering his face]
???: Peek a boo.
[Anubis continues to stare, anger etched upon every pore]
???: What’s the matter big guy? Does the sight of me upset your fragile little mind?
[Amber had recovered, and without Anubis noticing, she had climbed the turnbuckle, chair in hand. She leaped, and he noticed just in time to turn into her flying down on him and cracking him over the skull with the chair. He falls to the ground, seemingly unconscious, she pushes him out of the ring, a whistle gets her attention, she too now looks up at the tron]
???: What’s the matter darling? Don’t ya recognize me?
[He pushes his hair back, revealing a white and black painted face. Amber’s jaw drops as she looks up. She watches as the man opens his long leather trench coat, revealing underneath a plate of gold. The OCW Tag Team Championship. With a cry of a raven, the lights black out again. Another squawk lights them. Amber turns around immediately, facing him, she knew he’s be right behind her. He holds the tag team championship up high, staring right into her eyes. He laughs, throwing his head back in mirth, before throwing the belt to the side and running the ropes, rebounding back towards Amber, she dives out of the way in time to watch him fly over the top rope and take out Anubis on the outside. He stands on Anubis’ chest, laughing out loud again, before running up the entranceway and out of sight]
[Amber slides out of the ring, collecting the thrown away championship belt. She speaks a single word looking down at the gold, just about loud enough for the cameras to pick up]
Amber: Ripper?
[She throws the championship belt over her shoulder, collects her own and disappears up the entranceway. We focus back on the announce team]
Smith: Was that?
Hood: Amber Ryan seemed to think it was The Ripper
Smith: But why is he…
Hood: He’s trying to save his partner…Anubis was choking the life out of her. With Victory Denied on the horizon at Clash at the Coast they need to be on the same fucking page, man
Smith: Wow, top notch analysis
Hood: Or it could be a biker ninja
Smith: And there it went…folks, we received some more interesting footage similar to what we saw last week…let’s have a look
[We cut back to a taped feed from the same Mexican dungeon we saw last week. Paulo is seated on top of an upside down bucket, conversing with the mysterious prisoner. Paulo looks around nervously before reaching into the cell offering a few pieces of fruit to the prisoner. The same heavily bandaged hand reaches out, obtaining the fruit. The sound of teeth crunching into an apple are heard as Paulo smiles, feeling good about himself]
Paulo: I can get you more, if you’d like. You just can’t tell anyone what I’m doing.
Prisoner: Thank you, Paulo.
[Paulo stands up and motions to leave…he lingers, looking back into the Prisoner’s cell]
Paulo: Why don’t you just give them what they want? Just tell them you’re done so they will release you?
[The chewed up core of the apple is tossed through the bars, out of the prisoner’s cell]
Prisoner: And admit defeat? You don’t know me very well, Paulo. I will die in this cell before giving up my life’s work.
[Paulo lowers his head in the dim light of the underground prison]
Prisoner: You don’t want to see me die, do you Paulo?
[Paulo shakes his head ‘no’…he Prisoner’s bandaged hand wraps itself around one of the cell bars as he comes nearer to Paulo but is still deep enough into the darkness where we can’t see the rest of his body]
Prisoner: Then free me, it is the only way. If you don’t free me, I will die in here.
[Paulo’s hand reaches up near the key ring locked around his belt. He plays with the keys a bit, mulling over the request]
Prisoner: Free me and I will free you from this horrible life you’re living. I will make all our dreams come true, Paulo. It’s so simple…all you have to do is make a choice.
[Paulo reaches the keys and he unsnaps them from his belt, suddenly a voice yells out]
Voice: ¡Paulo! ¿Qué toma tan mucho tiempo? ¡Despierte aquí, ahora!
[Paulo’s eyes are flooded with fear as he snaps the keys back onto his belt. He shoots a sympathetic look back at the prisoner before rushing out of the underground prison and up the stairs to whoever is calling for him. The Prisoner lets out a sigh of disappointment as his hand slowly unravels from the bar and his silhouette disappears once again into the darkness. We cut back to ringside]
Smith: Interesting
Hood: Mexican jails are the worst…so I’ve heard
Smith: I have never been to Mexico…not worth it
Hood: Oh man, then you haven’t LIVED…which, well, doesn’t surprise me
Smith: I don’t care to live what you envision to be an entertaining lifestyle…instead, I’d rather call our next match…the third of four Western Title tournament matches as Chad Vargas takes on the undefeated Ehud of Moab
Hood: Oh alright
The Hillbilly Fiesta Challenge
Ehud of Moab (4-0) vs. “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas (3-2)
[Suddenly Syren’s image is displayed through a waterfall of whiskey which is taking place near ringside to symbolize the match about to take place]
Syren: The next match is part of the tournament to see who gets to get totally fucked up by yours truly at Clash at the Coast. This match is called The Hillbilly Fiesta! Remember, nameless timekeeper guy, stop the match every two and a half minutes so these fellas can chug some whiskey. Oooh, look at the pinatas! Which of them have chew spit inside? Which one has the confederate flag you must use to defeat your opponent? Nobody knows! That's what makes it so exciting!
[The fans get very excited because it is so exciting.]
Syren: First up, a badass dude from some state I probably don't like... one of the most impressive OCW signings of Dean's final weeks... Chad Vargas!
[“Needle and the Spoon” by Lynyrd Skynyrd begins to play as Chad Vargas makes his way to the ring. The fans boo Vargas as he doesn’t seem to mind…in fact, he looks to be relishing the negative reaction. Vargas rolls into the ring]
Syren: And his opponent, OCW's resident sheriff—ugh, fucking pig—and everybody's favorite geriatric fuck! He's pretty weird, he's good at punching women, he's old as shit... here's Ehud of Moab!!!
[“Fuck Was I” by Jenny Owen Young starts up and the fans cheer loudly for one of the more surprisingly popular wrestlers in the company, Ehud of Moab. He saunters down to the ring, walks carefully up the steps and then enters into the ropes as his music dies out]
[Syren vanishes into the waterfall which is suddenly shut off and the display is hauled away. The bell rings as a couple of Las Vegas’ finest hookers walk up the steps with a shot of whiskey in their hands. They hand the drinks over to Ehud and Vargas. Vargas takes his shot quickly and glares at Ehud. Ehud sips his as if it were tea, staring back at Vargas with his narrow, hardened eyes]
Hood: Who the fuck shoots Whiskey like that?
Smith: Apparently the elderly in Moab
Hood: Ugh, it’s actually kind of painful to watch…I don’t know about you, but I like to throw it back, whiskey is harsh.
Smith: Not for Ehud
[Ehud sips the last bit of whiskey into his mouth and swishes it around like mouth wash. He gargles it before slowly swallowing it. The fans are ringside cheer the grizzled sheriff. He hands the shot glass back to the hooker as she steps down the ring steps. Vargas and Ehud now meet in the middle of the ring. Vargas slaps Ehud across the face! Ehud responds with a left backhand which knocks Vargas down. Vargas holds the left side of his face in pain as he looks up at Ehud, shocked by the power in his left arm]
Smith: Ehud is deceptively strong
Hood: Why doesn’t someone just break his left hand…he’d probably be useless after that
Smith: Don’t you think people have tried that? Ehud has probably endured every kind of attack known to man and is still the undefeated sheriff of Moab.
Hood: True…maybe someone should enlist Grimace as a personal trainer…maybe THAT would do the trick.
Smith: I was never a fan of the Grimace. His recent issues with Ehud have only solidified that original vibe.
[Ehud bends over to grab Vargas but Vargas places his feet in Ehud’s abdomen and he kicks Ehud in the air and over the ropes, to the outside! Ehud’s body lands hard on the outside as Vargas rolls over and stares at Ehud through the bottom and middle rope. Ehud slowly gets to his feet, not showing any pain…even though you know he has to be feeling it]
Smith: Quite a tumble there by Ehud
Hood: Ehud will never show any pain, apparently…he’s too tough.
Smith: Yes, what a man
Hood: Calm down…Ehud doesn’t go for that funny stuff
[Vargas heads to the outside and Ehud throws the Biblical Left Hook but Vargas ducks and he lifts Ehud up. He slams Ehud’s back into the ring apron! Ehud glares back at Vargas. Vargas nails Ehud with a forearm uppercut. Ehud’s head snaps back but, again, he just looks at Vargas. Vargas drags Ehud to the ring post and is about to drill Ehud’s head into it when a bell sounds and the ref pokes his head through the ropes]
Smith: Did they just disqualify Chad Vargas…for that? I mean, I guess it’s technically against the rules but, I mean, let’s get serious here.
Hood: Nah man, it’s SHOT TIME
Smith: Oh, yea…the dumb stip…I forgot
Hood: Shots!
[Both men are back in the ring and they receive a shot glass. Vargas downs it quickly as, once again, Ehud goes through his Listerine like ritual with the hardcore liquor fueled liquid. The match suddenly resumes as Vargas goes for a spear...he’s met with the Biblical Left Hook!! Vargas crumbles to the mat as Ehud goes for the pin]
1!
2!
Kick out!
Smith: Wow, that left hook came out of nowhere!
Hood: In Biblical Fashion…just like Noah’s flood!
Smith: Sure, I can handle that
[Ehud gets to his knees and punches Vargas over and over with rights and lefts as Vargas quickly rolls away and under the bottom rope where he’s lying on the ring apron. Ehud gets to his feet and he positions his left hand for another Biblical Left Hook. Vargas gets to his feet…Ehud throws the Biblical Left Hook…Vargas ducks it and he gives Ehud a shoulder into the midsection through the ropes. Vargas then leaps over the top rope and over Ehud, looking for a Sunset Flip! Ehud balances himself and then punches Vargas in the face! He turns Vargas over and locks in The Moab Mule (Camel Clutch)! Vargas yells out in pain as the ref comes in to check for a submission]
Smith: The Moab Mule…this is usually the end…nobody has ever survived this
Hood: Not in 80 years
Smith: I was referencing more along the lines of his OCW tenure…I can’t really vouch for the previous 79 and 11/12s of the rest of his life.
Hood: I can, it’s in the Guinness Book of World Records under most consecutive Camel Clutches without a survivor.
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: 8,245
[Ehud really cranks back on Chad’s head and neck…suddenly, the bell rings]
Smith: Did Chad Vargas submit??
Hood: For the love, Smith…don’t you remember? SHOT TIME!
Smith: Ugh
[Ehud gets to his feet as the ref helps Vargas up. Vargas, holding his back in pain, throws down a shot. Ehud does another shot as well…in similar fashion of the previous two. Ehud then steps into the middle of the ring with his fists up saying “come on, boy”…just then, a purple image comes running down the aisle way]
Smith: What is that!!??
Hood: It’s fucking Grimace!
[Grimace sprints to ringside and jumps on one of those tiny trampolines which had conveniently been placed there during the match. He soars over the ring and, while in mid air, chops one of the piñatas down. It lands on Ehud, spilling tobacco spit all over him and the ring. Grimace lands on his feet on the other side of the ring and he continues sprinting away, eventually vanishing]
Smith: What did I just witness?
Hood: Fuck man, Grimace has some HOPS
Smith: With the aid of a trampoline…haven’t you ever been to an NBA game before?
Hood: Nah, I quit fucking going when the mascots stopped being unintentionally scary looking creatures and started flying and dunking during half time…all that gay shit.
Smith: Nevermind, then
[Ehud stands there, for a moment, covered in someone else’s spit. He licks his lips and tastes the spit…he says “Grimace Spit”…just then, Vargas rushes in and enziguri kicks Ehud in the head!! Ehud falls to the mat as Vargas nearly slips down on his one leg in the spit. He carefully maintains his balance before looking up at the piñatas]
Smith: Oh yea, you’re supposed to win by grabbing the confederate flag
Hood: So why has the ref been looking for submissions and counting pinfalls?
Smith: That is a very good question
Hood: Fucking newbie refs…where’s Busey when you need him.
Smith: Far from here, thankfully
[Vargas heads out of the ring and grabs a steel chair. He brings it back inside and reaches up with the chair, he is able to touch the piñatas with it. He starts to swing at one of the piñatas..he nails it! The fans look on with curiosity to see if it busts open and what would be inside. Vargas nails it over and over…it’s weakening, but remaining intact. Suddenly, the bell sounds as its shot time]
Smith: Can this please end? Can we just cap the shot time at like 3 or 4?
Hood: Never!
Smith: I mean there’s whiskey…spit in the ring…FLYING GRIMACES…what the heck?
Hood: Match of the fucking Year
[Vargas downs his shot quickly as Ehud is slow to his feet. The waitress brings him his shot in the middle of the ring. He holds it for a second, rotating the stiffness out of his neck. Suddenly, the piñata over head busts and tobacco spit falls into his shot glass! Ehud looks down at it with a look of disdain. He looks up at the ref who shrugs as if to say ‘rules are rulez’. Ehud glares at Vargas, who is laughing. Ehud throws the shot back and swishes it around his mouth. He gargles it and swallows it as Vargas frowns in disgust. Ehud then slowly pushes a cigarette but from his lips and spits it to the mat, keeping his stare on Vargas]
Smith: That is DISGUSTING
Hood: Okay, that’s it, just give Ehud the win
Smith: Ugh
Hood: I think it was a Menthol too…man, he’s hardcore
[Vargas and Ehud suddenly lock up in the middle of the ring with both men kind of sliding around as they jockey for position amidst the spit soaked mat. Vargas overpowers Ehud, backing him into a corner. The ref forces a break…as he does, Vargas sucker punches Ehud. He then hiptosses Ehud right into the pile of spit in the middle of the ring! Ehud lands with a loud and nasty SPLAT! Ehud slowly gets to his feet as Vargas drops him to the mat with the Snakeskin DDT (Evenflow DDT)! Ehud’s face splats into the spit as Vargas gets to his feet, back covered in spit. He heads for the chair]
Smith: Chad Vargas is close to winning this one…only one piñata remains and, well, I think we all know what’s inside.
Hood: Grimace?
Smith: Now…how…that would be impossible!
Hood: Don’t doubt the Grimace
[Vargas begins to swing away at the piñata…it begins to crack. It suddenly bursts open and the confederate flag falls. But it kind of floats down as Vargas reaches for it. Before Vargas can grab it, though, the bell sounds. Vargas catches it post bell and he slams it into the mat…it gets drenched in spit. Vargas is very angry and he demands the ref raise his hand in victory. The ref says no and offers Vargas a shot. Vargas drinks it, but he’s still angry. Ehud is helped to his feet where he takes another shot staring Vargas down. The girls have brought an entire tray of shots…apparently they are tired of going back and forth. Vargas stares Ehud down and takes another shot…Ehud does the same…the two begin to trade shots back and forth]
Smith: This is getting totally out of hand!
Hood: Now we’re talking…someone is going to get drank under the table…or, in this case, under the ring.
Smith: There’s a flag covered in spit they should be far more concerned with
Hood: It’s beyond that, Smith…this is a man showdown…a mandown…neither man is going to back down from a mandown…it’s been thrown down…this mandown
Smith: Will you stop saying mandown? It isn’t even a word
Hood: It is a word for real men.
[After what feels like two minutes…the competitors are done with their entire tray of shots 2 minutes later. Ehud and Chad’s eyes are both a little bloodshot as they seem to be feeling the effects of the alcohol. The ref asks if they have more shots for the next bell as it suddenly goes off. A manager of the casino rushes up and informs the ref something. He then walks over and tells Smith and Hood]
Smith: I have just been informed that no more shots will be administered to either Ehud or Chad Vargas. Apparently, they have been cut off due to health reasons
Hood: Ugh, so fucking lame
Smith: One of them just needs to grab the flag now
Hood: Well, it’s right fucking there
[Vargas grabs his chair while Ehud balls his fist. Vargas pummels Ehud in the head. Ehud nails Vargas with the Biblical left hook. They viciously attack one another with chair shots and left hooks. Neither man can feel a thing they are so inebriated. They just stand there and beat the living shit out of each other for several minutes as the fans look on in awe]
Smith: Both men are numb to the pain!
Hood: Oh fuck yea…now this is some prime television
Smith: I think they have both forgotten about the flag, as well
Hood: Or they may not want to bend down...they could lose their balance and pass out.
Smith: Indeed
[Ehud throws a punch which connects! Vargas slips in the spit allowing Ehud to measure him up for the Biblical Left Hook! Ehud throws the Biblical Left Hook but Vargas ducks it, he grabs Ehud and drops him into the spit with The Stroke!! Vargas then reaches out and grabs the confederate flag!! The bell rings as the fans boo profusely]
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance to the final four of the Western Title Tournament…”THE CONFEDEREATE ICON” CHAD VARGAS!!!!!
Smith: No!!
Hood: Down goes Ehud! Down goes EHUD!
Smith: That darn Grimace! He cost Ehud the match!
Hood: Cry me a fucking river…it’s time for the Confederate Icon to ascend the OCW ladder.
Smith: Perhaps…well, let’s go backstage
[As we come back from the commercial breaks, the cameras faded into the scene of an almost engulfed locker room. The only light source came from the flickering light bulb, which was constantly turning off and on making it hard for the audience to recognize what exactly was going on. Suddenly a figure emerged from the darkness, holding a candle in one hand which was already lit, making it easier for the audience to view him. His bright brown eyes, tall figure, blonde highlights and scars which were scattered across his face indicated that this could only be one man. Mark Storm. Storm smirked at the cameras as he licked his lips, gazing at the cameras as he brought the candle closer to his face, nodding his head approvingly]
Mark Storm: Last week, I made my debut here in Online Championship Wrestling. A match against Kevin Bourne which saw me gain my first of many victories here. Last week I sent a message to the illustrious roster here in OCW.. I sent a message that I am not a man to be messed with. I am here for one thing and one thing only, and that is to win.
[He paused, grinning from ear to ear before he regains his composure and continues]
Mark Storm: You see, there are people in this company that would have never heard of me until last week when I took my first step into the OCW ring. There are going to be people that vilify me in the locker room, people that dislike me amongst the audience. But you see, I'm not here for them. I'm here for myself. I'm here to prove to the world that I am the future of professional wrestling. You can hate me all you want, but that is not going to stop me from reaching greatness here in OCW.
[Once again he paused, clearing his throat before speaking again]
Mark Storm: I understand that I'm different. I don't conform to the stereotypical wrestler. I'm not sponsored by sport companies. I'm not advertised at all. I'm not the perfect model that every company wants. I'm far from that. You see I don't care about the crappy sponsorship, or the money, or the fame. All I care about is becoming the greatest. The greatest wrestler in my generation. Heck, I'll go as far as saying the greatest wrestler that ever lived.
My journey to the top of this company is not going to be easy but I will get there, whether you like it or not. This company it shows innovation, they give the next generation of superstars like myself a chance to shine in the spotlight. This company and myself, we suit like the lyrics to a song and the beat. This company is my new home. OCW, is where Mark Storm will reach his full potential. Ladies and Gentlemen, a storm is coming!
[Once Mark had finished his sentence, thunderstorms reverberate from outside causing the lights in the room to instantly shut off. After a few seconds had passed, the lights switched on once again however Mark Storm was nowhere to be seen. We focus back on the ringside announce team]
Smith: Strong words from Mark Storm
Hood: Yea, maybe he should have been in the Western Title tournament instead of Altera Moon
Smith: Probably would have been a wise choice, in hindsight
Hood: Our booker needs hindsight vision
Smith: Why don’t you go ahead and invent that then…I’m sure you’d make a lot of money
Hood: Hmm, good idea…I wonder what I’d use for a lense?
Smith: Glass from one of Grimace’s mirrors?
Hood: You’re a damn genius!
Smith: Folks, while Hood works on his new invention…let’s take you backstage yet again before we get set for our Main Event
[The live feed cuts to backstage showing Mia Stone walking backstage to a mixed reaction from the crowd. Behind her a blurred figure from the camera focusing on Mia goes into a room and loudly closes the door, causing Mia to turn around and see who it is. Out of nowhere Ian Bishop slams into Mia’s back that makes her fly into the stone wall. Bishop wails his forearms into Mia as she tries to defend herself but Bishop grabs one of her arms and tosses her to the other side of the hallway, hard onto the floor. Bishop grabs Mia’s legs and drags her into the room that the figure went into as the camera now stares into a empty hallway]
Smith: Where did Ian take Mia?!
Hood: Maybe he got some more fried chicken for her.
Smith: That would be disgusting.
Hood: No way! I want fried chicken, I’m fucking starving!
[The live feed begins to become distorted as it awkwardly cuts to a camcorder inside a dark, what seems to be a boiler room, as it shows Bishop dragging a struggling Mia. Mia gets a kick on Bishop’s jaw, which draws blood as she stands up to punch Bishop but Sean Fuller comes from behind the camcorder and hits a high knee on Mia. She collapses to the ground as Bishop fiddle with some chains that are hanging from the ceiling and Bishop takes a shackle and locks it around Mia’s neck as she stands there. Fuller ties her arms around here back and Bishop works on the her ankles. Bishop and Fuller nod as Fuller leaves and locks the door from the outside]
Mia Stone: What exactly are you doing--
[Bishop cuts Mia off by stuffing the note she wrote him earlier in her mouth as she gags on the piece of paper. Bishop walks into the shadows for a moment to come back out with a whip, which causes the crowd to gasp and begin to boo the roof off. Bishop takes the note out of her mouth and shows her the whip]
Ian Bishop: You know, I think Cliven Bundy was right...
[That comment causes the ENTIRE CROWD to boo manically and the chant “racist” begins to erupt. Bishop laughs as he starts his sentence over]
Ian Bishop: You know, I think Cliven Bundy was right… you guys are better off as slaves… look at you, the minute I show you this, you shut right up and start to behave. What exactly am I going to do, Mia? Is that what you were going to ask me?
[Bishop smacks Mia in the face hard as she gets pissed but Bishop grabs her face by her cheeks and starts to scream]
Ian Bishop: YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST BE A FUCKING SMART ASS AND LEAVE ME SMART ASS NOTES? YOU TRYING TO THINK YOU’RE BETTER THEN ME? THAT ISN’T GOING TO FUCKING HAPPEN MIA! …I’ll make this perfectly simple to you, Mia, so that you have a week to go find yourself another match at Clash at the Coast. You won’t win against me. Hell, even if MJ were to help you, you won’t win. Why? Take a look in the mirror. You’re not the right image that a respectable company like this needs as a champion. We already have an illegal immigrant with a mask as champion and now soon, we could have a black champ? No… I can’t stand around and let our belts be handed down to low life’s like you.
[Bishop goes behind Mia as he raises the whip to strike her but stops, smirks, and goes back to Mia]
Ian Bishop: Mia, smell me.
Mia Stone: What? No.
Ian Bishop: Mia… FUCKING SMELL ME! What the fuck do I smell like?
Mia Stone: …Rum?
Ian Bishop: Exactly, rum… so Mia, what I’m about to do to you is not my fault, because earlier I was in a perfectly good mood. It’s MJ’s fault, when she decided to be miss tough and smash that rum over my head. In this world… women make poor choices in their lives…
[Bishop leans in and whispers into Mia’s ear]
Ian Bishop: …and then women suffer the consequences.
[Bishop walks behind Mia and cracks the whip against Mia’s back who shrieks out in pain as the crowd boos. He cracks her again and again but it then appears OCW production has found the source of the hacked feed as the screen distorts and cuts back to ringside]
Smith: I am disgusted right now...absolutely shocked beyond words
Hood: I wonder where he found that whip, it looked like genuine leather
Smith: Something like this would never have occurred under Dean’s watch
Hood: Yea, well Dean is gone, get over it
Smith: I just hope Mia gets her comeuppance at Clash…this is too much, Ian has gone too far
Hood: Haha, I love it
Smith: Whatever, folks, it’s time for our main event as the final piece of the Western Tournament Puzzle is solved tonight. Let’s head to ringside
Western Title Tournament Match
Big Bifford Memorial Classic
PerZag © (7-1) vs. Dangerous Dan (4-5)
Smith: Fans, I'm being told that Scott Syren has declined to do the ring announcements for The Big Bifford Memorial Challenge, a Western Title Tournament match that will feature PerZag taking on Dangerous Dan. We've been handed a note that says, and I quote, “This is the Big Bifford's moment to be honored and recognized. No need for ol' Scott Syren to hog the spotlight. Enjoy the match, Hood. Smith, you're a fu--" well, you get the gist of it.
Hood: That Scott Syren is one classy motherfucker. I always love to see a show of respect between legends.
Smith: I doubt that…I think he just ran out of ways to randomly pop up around here.
Hood: There’s a fairly large chested woman over there, he could’ve appeared on her tits.
Smith: How classy…well, with the Syren shenanigans out of the way, it just remains to be seen if the Big Bifford will show up to bask in this “honor”...
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our Main Event!! This is the Big Bifford Memorial Classic…it is the fourth and final OCW Western Title Tournament Match and it is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first…
[“Don’t Stop” by Foster the People begins to play as the crowd within the Planet Hollywood Mall goes crazy when Dangerous Dan emerges from behind the OCW stage that has been set up and he rushes down to the ring. He slides into the ring and heads for the nearest corner. There is a surprisingly slim Bifford cutout in the corner. Dan removes it, rips it half and tosses it out of the ring. He then climbs that corner and poses for the fans who chant “Dan! Dan!” Dan spits on the cutout which is lying tattered and torn outside the ring]
Belvedere: From Smithville, Tennessee…standing 5’11 and weighing in at 225lbs…Dangerous Dan!!!
[The lights of the mall go out. All that is seen is a small glow of light from the entrance ramp. ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ by Survivor starts to play over the PA system. A hooded figure walks on to the entrance ramp. The lights come back on as the hooded figure stands still on the stage. The hooded figure walks down to the ring slowly. He gets into the ring and stands in the centre of it. He slowly removes the hood and shows his hideous scars throughout the arena. 'Eye Of The Tiger' by Survivor stops playing as PerZag walks over to a corner in the ring and crouches down near it]
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Benalla…standing 6’5 and weighing in at 216lbs…he is the OCW Internet Champion…PerZag!!
[Belvedere exits the ring as the bell sounds]
Smith: Folks it’s time for our main event…and already one of the surprisingly svelte cutouts of Bifford has already been destroyed.
Hood: Quite rude if you ask me
Smith: I’m more offended by the lack of attention to detail…Bifford does not have the body of Brad Pitt from Fight Club
Hood: Boy, you sure threw that reference out there off the top of your head pretty quickly…does that image get you hard or something?
Smith: NO!...I uhh…it was just obviously a very chiseled physique…and I…
Hood: Say no more
[Zag and Dan stare each other down as Generic Ref slaps his hands for no reason whatsoever…perhaps he feels like a good ‘clap’ is how every match should begin. Dan and Zag meet in the center of the ring and immediately lock up. Dan is able to bull Zag into a corner due to his compact physique in contrast to the tall, lanky PerZag. Zag holds his arms up as Dan drives a shoulder into Zag’s abdomen. They are in the corner without the Biff cut out, by the way…just thought I would throw that out there. Dan drives another shoulder and another and another. He then whips Zag out of the corner but Zag reverses! Dan sprints front first but stops inches from another Bifford cut out. This one features a black skinned Bifford. Dan grabs it and rips it up, tossing it out of the ring in anger. He turns around and is superkick by Zag!! Zag goes for the pin, Generic Ref makes the count]
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: The Internet Champion nearly won this one really early with one of Dan’s signature moves!
Hood: Dan needs to get his mind off of Bifford…especially Black Bifford…it almost cost him this match.
Smith: Yea, first Bifford is skinny….then he’s black…or, well, African American…I don’t get it…what’s the point?
Hood: To fuck with Dan…it’s all about fucking with Dan
[Zag gets to his feet and he quickly ascends to the second rope of the current corner. Dan gets to his feet as Zag leaps off and nails Dan with a double axe handle!! Zag lands on his knees as Dan falls onto his back. Zag, still on his knees, starts to punch Dan in the head with lefts and rights as the fans boo their fan favorite being pummeled before their eyes]
Smith: One slip up has given PerZag full control in this match
Hood: And you know what REALLY sucks?
Smith: What’s that?
Hood: There are TWO more Biff cut outs in the ring for Dan to deal with
Smith: ¡Ay caramba!
[Zag gets to his feet and he yanks Dan to his…he throws a kick into Dan’s gut but Dan grabs his leg and takes him down with a dragon screw leg whip! Zag lands to the mat holding his leg in pain. Dan quickly yanks him back to his feet and whips him into the nearest corner. Zag slams hard into the third Bifford cutout. Dan charges in but Zag takes the cutout from behind him and tosses it at Dan. Dan catches it and we see this Bifford cutout as a clown Bifford. Dan evidently really hates clowns as he completely demolishes this cutout and tosses it out of the ring. Zag runs into view and drops Dan to the mat with a lariat]
Hood: Dan just destroyed Clifford!
Smith: Who?
Hood: Clown Bifford
Smith: Ridiculous…I just don’t see how Dan can win with all of these distractions.
Hood: He can’t, that’s why it’s so fun
[Zag pulls Dan to his feet and whips him into the ropes, Dan bounces off and Zag puts his head down. Dan jumps over the back of Zag, lands on his feet and runs into the ropes again. Zag turns around and Dan leaps into the air…but Zag catches him!! Zag is going for a spinebuster, but Dan punches Zag in the head a few times before dropping Zag to the mat with a Tornado DDT!! Dan gets to his feet and throws his arms in the air as the fans start to really get behind him. He then turns his attention to the final Biff cutout. It’s Biff’s head attached to a gorgeous, picture perfect female porn star body. A skimpy bikini is the only thing keeping this cutout from being X rated. Dan looks at it, confused]
Smith: Dan seems taken back a bit by this final cut out
Hood: I can’t look at it
Smith: Why not?
Hood: The body with that head…it’s confusing and causes my body to betray my mind…I…I just can’t look at it.
Smith: I have to admit, I don’t know what you’re talking about
Hood: You have to enjoy a nice pair of tits to know what I’m talking about, Smith
[Dan frowns with disgust as he picks the cutout up, rips it in half and tosses it out of the ring. Zag is back on his feet as Dan is facing the corner. Zag charges in and leaps in the air but Dan moves!! Zag gives himself snake eyes as his face slams into the top turnbuckle. Dan quickly rolls him up as the ref slides in for the count]
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Dangerous Dan almost pulled this one out!
Hood: PerZag needs to calm down…he’s had more than enough opportunities to take this match over and has failed to do so.
Smith: Yep, given the circumstances and obstacles Dan has had to overcome…you’d have to say at this point, Dan is in the driver’s seat.
Hood: Fucked up world, yo
[Dan lifts Zag to his feet and nails him with some forearm uppercuts as Zag staggers into the center of the ring. Dan measures him up and then steps forward and drills Zag with The ENDD is Near(Superkick)!! Zag stands straight up in the air before falling down to the mat with the fans cheering wildly. Dan heads for the corner when, suddenly, the OCW screen comes on and we see a clip of Bifford pinning Dangerous Dan at Total Demolition. Dan stops near the ring post and grabs his hair in frustration letting out a loud scream. Bifford suddenly emerges from behind the curtain with a knife in his hand. Dan eyes Biff who stops and points up at Dan yelling “I’m gonna murder the fuck out of you”…before turning towards the announce table and taking a seat. Dan finally focuses back on the match as he ascends the top rope. Zag, though, has had more than enough time to reclaim his senses as he lunges for and lands in the ropes…Dan is crotched on the top turnbuckle and winces in pain]
Smith: Umm, Bifford could you put that knife away please?
Bifford: Calm down, friend. I won’t murder you with this knife. This knife will not cut into a man’s flesh unless that man is Dan.
Hood: Have you named it? You know all great murder weapons have a name
Bifford: Yes, I’ve named it Dan
Smith: Of course
[Zag climbs to the top and he lifts Dan to his feet. Zag hooks Dan and leaps off of the top rope with a superplex!! Dan’s body crashes against the mat as he arches his back in pain. Zag gets to his feet and he looks down at Dan. Zag lifts Dan up and quickly hoists him across his shoulders and locks him in a Torture Rack!! Dan yells out in pain as Zag bounces Dan around and really clamps down on the pressure, bending Dan’s back in a very unnatural manner. The ref asks Dan if he wants to give it up, Dan says no]
Smith: Come on, Dan…hang in there.
Hood: Nah, Dan’s a quitter, right Biff? He’s going to quit, right?
Smith: Bifford, what are you doing?
Bifford: Chopping up some onions
Smith: With your Dan knife? I thought that was only for Dan
Bifford: No, this is a different knife, I call it Chris. It’s pretty fucking useless.
Smith: How many knives do you have?
Bifford: Many
Hood: What are the onions for, Bifford? Are we making anything special?
Bifford: I want to make Dan cry in front of everyone after he loses.
[It becomes apparent that Dan is not going to give up. Zag suddenly drops Dan onto the mat, head first, with a DVD!! Dan’s body flatlines as Zag kicks up to his feet, showing tremendous athleticism. He heads for the nearest corner and climbs to the second rope. He jumps off with an elbow, but Dan lifts his leg up and he kicks Zag in the face!! Zag staggers back into the corner, trying to shake the cob webs from his brain as Dan has rolled over onto his side…the fans start to clap, rallying behind Dan]
Smith: Come on, Dan!
Hood: Ugh…why did he go to the corner? He could’ve pinned the man!
Smith: Perhaps a bit of inexperience on PerZag’s part by…wait a minute, what is that noise? BIFF!
Hood: Dude, is that a fucking buzzsaw?
Bifford: Yes.
Smith: Why do you even have that?
Bifford: I am sawing off part of this announce table to serve the onions to Dan.
Smith: No, we have to sit here, please stop.
Bifford: I’m the President of OCW. I will do what I wish.
Smith: No you are not!
[Dan slowly gets to his feet as Zag stands out of the corner. Zag walks up to Dan and throws a punch, Dan ducks! Dan lifts Zag up and drops him with an atomic drop!! Zag stumbles forward into the ropes as Dan rushes up behind him, grabs Zag’s legs and pulls up and flips Zag over onto his back with his shoulders lying on the middle rope. Dan then falls back and he catapults Zag up where his throat slams into the top rope!! Zag clutches his throat in pain as Dan stands back, waiting on Zag. Zag is on one knee, coughing. He ascends to a standing position and is instantly drilled with The ENDD is Near!! The impact sends Zag through the ropes and to the outside! Dan doesn’t waste any time as he runs into the corner, hops top the top rope and leaps off with a moonsault!! He connects as the fans go wild!! Dan gets to his feet channeling the power from the crowd and on the verge of victory]
Smith: Here we go! Dangerous Dan is on the verge of winning this and advancing!
Hood: Bull shit
Smith: What do you have to say about this, Bifford?
Smith: What the heck was that?!?!?
Hood: Biff has a gun!
[People in the mall scatter and scream as Dan turns his attention towards the loud bang. Bifford stands up and sets the gun down, staring at Dan]
Smith: Biff, it’s not worth it.
Bifford: Calm down, Smith, I’m not going to shoot Dan. I don’t murder people with guns.
Smith: What the heck was that then, target practice?
Bifford: I just wanted to get Dan’s attention. Plus a girl with massive titties was across the way. It was nice watching her jump up and then run off.
Hood: Fuck yes
[Dan has had enough as he walks over to Biff with rage in his eyes. Biff waits, patiently. Dan gets near Biff and Biff throws the raw onions in Dan’s face! Dan blinks, surprisingly and his eyes begin to sting from the onion juice! Bifford then grabs the knife he named ‘Dan’. What’s left of the crowd begins to freak out. Suddenly, cheers are heard as Crazy Chris comes from nowhere! He jumps on top of Biff’s back, causing him to drop the knife]
Smith: Yes! Thank goodness for Crazy Chris!
Hood: What’s HE doing out here? He’s ruining the match
Smith: No, this match was ruined long before Chris made an appearance.
Hood: Ugh…where’s that knife Biff named Chris, I need to hand it to him.
Smith: You will do no such thing!
[Zag crawls up behind Dan, still in pain, but seeing an opportunity. The ref has come outside and is trying to deal with Biff and Chris. Zag reaches up and he nails Dan with a low blow!! Dan staggers forward as Zag gets to his feet and he jumps in the air and bulldogs Dan’s face into the steel steps!! Zag lands, safely, on the other side of the steps…he sits up against them, catching his breath. Biff, meanwhile, tosses Chris off of him…he grabs his headset, which had fallen off, and makes an announcement]
Bifford: The Danger Boiz have cheated…therefore, the winner of this match is PerZag!
Smith: It doesn’t work that way, Bifford!
Bifford: I am the President...it works whichever way I decree!
Hood: Man, another devastating loss for Dan
Smith: The match isn’t over you delusional fool!
Bifford: Security, take this loser away from ringside and give PerZag Dan’s first born.
Smith: What?
Bifford: Yes, this match was for Dan’s first born. I just forgot to announce it.
Hood: Ouch, SUPER tough loss for Dan then
Bifford: I…
[Biff turns around and sees that Chris has the knife named ‘Dan’. Biff goes after Chris, wanting to use that knife to carve Dan up. He follows Chris all the way down the aisle and up the ramp. They disappear behind the curtain. Zag gets to his feet and he stands on the steel ring steps. He yanks Dan up and knees him in the gut. Zag lifts Dan up and he drops him with a piledriver onto the ring steps!! Dan’s body goes limp as Zag sits on the steps for a second, continuing to regain his strength]
Smith: This spells bad news for Dangerous Dan
Hood: I don’t know why they are still fighting…why are we still on air? The Main Event ended like thirty seconds ago.
Smith: Biff is not our President, Hood. He can’t just call matches whenever he feels like it.
Hood: I can’t understand the filth which is pouring from your whore mouth
Smith: Ugh!
[Zag yanks Dan to his feet and he tosses Dan into the ring under the bottom rope. Zag crawls in behind Dan, as does the ref. Zag goes for a pin on Dan as the ref makes the count]
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Yes! Dan is still alive!
Hood: Well of course he’s still alive…he will be alive until Biff ends him with his knife named Dan
Smith: Bifford will never murder Dan!
Hood: Oh I wouldn’t be so sure about that…just ask Cocco Ricci…or, should I say…the corpse of Cocco Ricci
Smith: How do you remember all these obscure OCW names from the past?
Hood: I don’t know…how do you forget someone named Cocco Ricci?
Smith: Good point
[Zag gets to his feet and he pulls Dan to his feet. He gives Dan a kick to the stomach and then drops Dan to the mat with a DDT!! Dan flops over onto his back and is motionless. Zag heads for the nearest corner and climbs to the top. He looks down at Dan before leaping off and drilling him with a flying headbutt!! Zag goes for the pin]
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Another kick out from Dan!
Hood: Why is PerZag still pinning him? You can’t win the match twice ya know
Smith: In order to win it twice, he has to win it first
Hood: Which already happened like five minutes ago
Smith: Erroneous
[Zag yanks Dan to his feet and he drills him with some forearm uppercuts, backing Dan into the nearest corner. He grabs Dan by the chin and yells at him…Zag is very angry and frustrated. He whips Dan across the ring…Zag rushes in behind him…Dan quickly climbs the corner and he leaps off with a Whisper in the Wind! He connects!! Zag falls back onto the mat as does Dan! Both men are lying on the mat as the fans go wild for Dan]
Smith: YES!
Hood: Somebody fine that man! What is this unprovoked post match attack all about?
Smith: The match is still going on, for the last time!
Hood: What a sore loser this Dangerous Dan fellow is!
[Zag is the first one to his feet as Dan is pulling himself up via the ropes. Zag walks over to Dan and receives a head butt into the chest. Zag grabs his chest with a weird look as this move is pretty uncommon. Dan then locks in a sleeper but, instead of holding it, he drops Zag to the mat with some kind of sleeper head slam. Dan is on one knee, still suffering the ill effects from Zag’s attack on him as the fans rise again in cheers, he starts to feed off of it]
Smith: The comeback is in full swing!
Hood: Alright, this is basically wasted energy at this point for yours truly…I’m going to go buy a hooker.
Smith: Stay right here until the show is over
Hood: It’s already over!
[Zag gets to his feet as Dan is already standing. Zag throws a punch at Dan…Dan blocks it and nails Zag with a forearm and another and another and another. Zag is reeling against the ropes as Dan whips Zag off the ropes, he runs across the ring, bounces off the ropes and Dan drills him with a flying forearm!! Dan quickly ascends the nearest corner as Zag gets to his feet…Dan leaps off, hooks his legs around Zag’s head and drops him with a huricanrana holding on for the pin! The ref makes the count]
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: PerZag showing some guts here late in this match!
Hood: You know whose guts we need to see? Dan’s!
Smith: That is uncalled for!
[Dan is quick to his feet as Zag kneels. Dan runs into the ropes, he bounces off and drills Zag in the face with a dropkick!! Zag falls onto his back and rolls underneath the bottom rope. Dan rushes over and he grabs Zag’s hair, yanking him to his feet. Dan lifts Zag into the air and over the top rope with a suplex…he holds Zag up and then drops him with a Jackhammer!! Dan goes for the pin as the ref makes the count]
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Aww man!
Hood: Geez, Dan can’t even win the post match battle
Smith: You know what? Go play some black jack…you’re clearly of no further assistance tonight.
Hood: Nah man, all of a sudden, I feel like sticking around
Smith: Jerk
[Dan pulls Zag to his feet and whips him into the nearest corner. Zag reverses and Dan slams into the corner. Zag charges in for a big splash but Dan spears Zag to the mat as the fans rise with cheers from the impact!! Zag holds his midsection in pain as Dan rushes towards the nearest corner, looking to hit the ENDD. Zag, though, swallows his pain and kicks back up for the second time in the match. Dan is at the top as Zag runs into the corner and quickly climbs to the top with Dan. The two begin to trade punch after punch with neither man giving an inch. Zag takes his thumb and goes to jam it into Dan’s eye. Dan slaps it away and he head butts Zag!! Zag loses his balance and he falls from the top. Before he can hit the mat, Dan quickly leaps off the top with THE ENDD (Swanton Bomb)…both men are in the air at the same time! Zag hits first followed by Dan landing on him a fraction of a second later with The ENDD!! Dan hooks the leg as the fans go wild and the ref makes the count]
1!
2!
3!!!
[The bell rings as Dan gets to his feet in pain from the toll the match took on him. The ref raises his hand in victory]
Belvedere: Here is your winner and the man who will advance to next week’s final four of the Western Title Tournament…DANGEROUS DAN!!!!!
Smith: Dan did it! He did it!
Hood: Hey! That does NOT count…Dan already lost
Smith: Dan advances despite our delusional hall of famer proclaiming otherwise! He stood in the face of all Bifford could throw at him as a distraction and was able to defeat the Internet Champion in a classic!
Hood: I’m going to talk with Biff about this…something is not right
Smith: Go ahead, talk sense to the murderous maniac
Hood: I WILL
Smith: Folks, that’s it for us tonight…Dangerous Dan…finally is having a long overdue OCW moment…great for him. We will see you next week as Dan, Grenier, Canon and Chad Vargas compete for the right to face Scott Syren in the main event at Clash at the Coast for the Western Title. See you next Monday!
[Massacre comes to an end]
OOC: Alright, another Massacre in the books…it was a bit different than normal with all the unique gimmick matches. I hope you guys enjoyed them, not gonna lie, a few were a challenge to write but I think they came out pretty solidly. Guess what…we are 2 weeks away from Clash. Look for a few matches to be announced this week on the website (ie Internet Title match and possible Southern Title Match).
Credits
Scott Syren: Gimmicks, match ideas and most of the intros
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