OCW Presents: Not Safe For Work
LIVE! Monday, June 17th 2019
From Schlitterbahn Waterpark in New Braunfels, TX
~We cut to an office. It’s an ordinary office. Nothing special. A man sits at a cubicle. He’s not working very hard…or, at all, really. His cubicle mirrors the other nine cubicles stationed within a confined area. There are two personal offices near the back. The man we originally focused on is watching wrestling on his computer screen. The volume is muted. The wrestling this man is watching appears very safe~
Man: Oh yea…great clothesline. Look at that armbar. Such a technical wizard. I just love me some good, old fashioned wrestling!
~A door belonging to one of the bigger offices opens up. A man dressed like the guy who runs things emerges. He walks past the wrestling fan and stops. He leans forward~
Boss: Hmm…interesting. Oh wow, look at that arm drag!
Man: I know, right? This where it’s at!
~And so the two men enjoy the rest of the match. The boss pats his employee on the back before gathering all the employees for a meeting, informing them that for the third month in a row they won most productive branch within the entire organization. This is a very safe, stable, consistent environment. The employees give a very golf-like clap before returning to their desks~
LATER THAT DAY
~The wrestling fan employee is walking home from work. He passes by an alleyway. This isn’t an unfamiliar alleyway. He passes this alleyway every day. However, on this day, the alleyway threatens to change his life forever. A voice calls out~
Voice: Hey…hey you!
~The wrestling fan stops and looks around. He peers into the alleyway. It’s super dark. Most people might be afraid…but this guy seems pretty naïve. So, he just points at his chest and replies~
Wrestling Fan: Who? Me?
Voice: Yea…you.
Wrestling Fan: What…what can I help you with?
Voice: I hear you like wrestling.
Wrestling Fan: Oh boy do I! Nothing gets me going like some good, old fashioned grappling!
Voice: Excellent. Have you ever had some of that OCW?
Wrestling Fan: OCW?
Voice: Yea, some of that OCW. It’s the good, premium shit.
Wrestling Fan: Um, why…no. I enjoy Grapple Wrestling Federation. BearHug Championship Wrestling is pretty good. Oh, there’s also…
Voice: Nah man, forget that lame stuff. You need some OCW in your life.
Wrestling: Fan: Well, I mean I guess I could expand my horizon. Where would I catch this OCW?
Voice: Tell ya what…you show up here, tomorrow morning with a hundred one dollar bills and I’ll hook you up.
Wrestling Fan: A hundred dollars?
Voice: Well, I mean, if you aren’t ready for the premium shit then I understand. We can call this whole thing off.
Wrestling Fan: No, no, no…I’ll bring the hundred dollars. Right here, tomorrow morning?
Voice: Yep.
Wrestling Fan: Cool! See you then, friendly voice!
~The Wrestling Fan starts to walk away. The Voice calls out~
Voice: IN ONE DOLLAR BILLS! Don’t forget!
THE NEXT MORNING
~The Wrestling Fan is hanging by the dark alleyway with an envelope in his hand. The Voice emerges~
Voice: You got the money?
Wrestling Fan: Yea! You got the…stuff?
~A blank CD (inside a case labeled ‘the good shit’) slides across the ground~
Voice: Toss me the money.
~The Wrestling Fan throws the envelope into the dark. He picks up the CD and heads to work. The voice yells out~
Voice: I SAID ONE DOLLAR BILLS! FUCKING IDIOT!
LATER THAT DAY
~We are back in the office. The wrestling fan hits a break in work. So, he puts the CD into his computer, excited to watch some GRAPS. Highlights from some of OCW’s wildest moments begin to air. The Scott Syren WHACK OFF match. Pete Pornstar Parker doing…this thing. The Birdcage Match. Every House of Mirrors match EVER. The Psychopathic Hell in a Cell. The random murder of GAVIN REED. Mike Best’s COCK promo. Matt Meyhu appearing in…BLACK AND WHITE. The most scandalous moments in company history. The Wrestling Fan is engrossed. His boss walks by, whistling~
Boss: Whoa…what…what is THIS
Wrestling Fan: I’ve never seen anything like it.
Boss: Is that…a scythe?
Wrestling Fan: Yes.
LATER THAT WEEK
~It’s the same office but MUCH different. Papers are strewn everywhere. The employees are carrying beer around, indulging in excess alcohol. Cardi B is BLARING throughout the workplace. A massive orgy is taking place in BOTH offices. The Wrestling Fan does a line of cocaine off a co-workers ass~
Wrestling Fan: HOLY SHIT! I LOVE ME SOME OCW!
~They all go wild~
Boss: Hey!! Put that whack off match on again!
~A projector is fired up, displaying the lowest point in company history on a giant wall in the office. An employee runs out of one of the orgies. He’s naked, save for a tie around his neck. The lower half of his face is covered in cocaine. He yells, “I AM A LIME GOD!” He runs toward the window and dives headfirst. The glass doesn’t break…unlike his neck. The place goes crazy~
THREE WEEKS LATER
~Have these people gone home? It doesn’t look like it. A door is kicked in by SWAT! This task force swarms the place, taking down all the employees. Tear gas fills the room, to subdue the wildest of the bunch. The gas consumes out screen…~
~We are shown a face unfamiliar to OCW fans. They are seated behind a desk looking very professional~
Nameless Person: We at OCW want to thank you for watching our product LIVE on HOTv. We do not advise you to watch this programming at work. You can clearly see this is not safe for any work environment. However, if you do decide to tempt fate and fire up this show on your work computer
~The person winks not so subtly at the viewers~
Person: OCW is not liable for any issues that could arise. Now, please, sit back and enjoy our presentation of…Not Safe For Work.
~The individual smiles. They stand up revealing that they aren’t wearing any pants. We quickly but to the NSFW video package~
~We cut to the SOLD OUT Schlitterbahn!!! Fans are surrounding the LAGUNA POOL! They chant “OCW! OCW!” Our view pans around the pool to reveal a wrestling ring nestled invitingly out over the water. Fans are holding beers, wading through waist deep water, throwing their empty hands into the air, going wild for the impending event. We cut to the top of one of the soda straw attractions. Fans are hopping into the straws, sliding down only to be deposited in the pool that connects to the ring. Atop the attraction watching with the best seat in the house are Smith and Hood. Smith is dressed in his finest. Hood looks ready hop in one of the soda straws~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to Not Safe For Work!!! I’m your host Smith and alongside me, as always, is Hood.
Hood: And talk about TORTURE! Bring me to this kickass waterpark with all these half naked women only to put me all the way up here. I’m ready to party.
Smith: Work first…then you may play.
Hood: Yea, sure…that’s what they always say. I’ll no doubt be on a plane back to Key West for more bullshit work once this is over.
Smith: Regardless of my co-worker’s sour attitude…we have a tremendous event lined up!! 10 epic matches which are sure to blow you all away!
Hood: Wish I could get blown…
Smith: Why did you stop?
Hood: …
Smith: You’re crass. Fans we’ve got a huge show ready for you all to enjoy…it’s going to be a long one so let’s not waste a bunch of time filling you in. I’m sure, if you’re watching this, you’ve been keeping up with the weekly program…so let’s jump right into the water as the OCW Tag Team Titles are set to be defended!! Down to ringside we go for our first real view of the Laguna Pool Location!
OCW Tag Team Championship
Team ATARI © (3-1) vs. The Dravers Boys (4-1)
~We cut to the RING OVER THE LAGUNA POOL! The fans surrounding the pool are going crazy! “OCW! OCW!” The small hot tub located several feet to the left of the ring is filled with VIP fans downing beer and margaritas. Hoards of fans surround the pool…the soda straw slides are operational, with an occasional OCW fan flying out, into the water. A SQUARED CIRCLE rope is stationed several feel away from the ring, keeping swimmers from ‘accidentally’ floating near the action. The surrounding pool OUTSIDE the ropes is filled with fans standing, swimming, hanging through innertubes…all ready for some ACTION. Belvedere, standing inside the ring, looks around with a wry smile. He clears his throat. The entire German community known as New Braunfels lets their panties drop while screaming with white-hot euphoria “FUCK YEA!!!”~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…welcome to Not Safe For Work!!
~The fans chant “NSFW!” it doesn’t last long due to how cumbersome it is…so they quickly transition to “OCW!” Belvedere nods. A woman rips her bikini top off, flashing her solid pair of tits. We quickly cut away…even though we are on HOTv. Belvedere has an ‘oh my’ look on hi face. But he quickly composes, returning to his professional disposition~
Belvedere: The following match is our opening contest!! It’s a tag team match, and it is for the OCW Tag Team Championship!!! Introducing first…
~'The Boys are Back' - The Dropkick Murphys hits!!! We zoom in to the thinly carpeted metal walkway, leading out to the ring. A crowd of people begins to part as we see a red patch of hair followed by a pink patch of hair bobbing and weaving their way through the fans. They break through revealing THE DRAVERS! The fans go wild!! “DRAVERS! DRAVERS!” Nathan and Jonathan stand at the beginning of the rampway, staring into the ring. They almost become emotional…it’s been SO LONG since they’ve been on this stage. The Brothers exchange a high five before sprinting down the ramp way~
Smith: They are BACK on Pay Per View!
Hood: Yuck
Smith: They are throwing caution into the wind sprinting down that rampway. Thankfully, it appears plenty sturdy!
Hood: Too bad the fucking thing didn’t break, sending them into the pool.
Smith: Fortunately, that water only goes four or five feet deep…so they would have most likely survived.
Hood: Haha, most likely
~The Dravers slide into the ring and hustle to a corner, each. They hop onto the middle buckles, posing for the crowd. These fans are 100% behind the DRAVERS~
Belvedere: From Denver, Colorado…at a total combined weight of 400lbs…they are former OCW Tag Team Champions…Jonathan and Nathan…The Dravers Boys!!!
~More “DRAVERS” chants. The brothers are clearly appreciative and overwhelmed by the spotlight and reaction~
Smith: It’s been over TWO YEARS since they proudly wore those OCW Tag Titles.
Hood: Yea man they were like the second coming of Perfectly Marvelous…until…well, until The fucking Aptitude crushed their hopes and dreams.
Smith: But they are back and potentially better than ever!
Belvedere: And, their opponents…
~2001: A Space Odyssey starts to play. A silence hushes over the ravenous, slightly buzzed audience. The Dravers march around the ring, eager to begin. The bright TEXAS sun is beating down on the former champions. The music begins to hit its first crescendo…Team ATARI is seen marching through the fans with Flashback 2 leading the way. The fans part, allowing them access. 2600 and 7800 stand, looking around with triumphant posture. The shiny OCW Tag belts are secured around their waists. Flashback 2 points toward the ring…the duo march down the metal rampway. Nathan and Jonathan jog in place near the ropes furthest from the ramp. The members of Team ATARI slide into the ring. They pop to their feet and look around for Yamauchi Scum…their search ends up finding The Dravers! “DILLY DILLY!” 7800 cries out. 2600 has to restrain him~
Belvedere: From…well, we’ll just go with PARTS UNKNOWN…they are reigning and defending OCW Tag Team Champions…they are…TEAM ATARI!!!
~Belvedere’s voice matches the climax of 2001: A Space Odyssey. The music fades. Belvedere is handed the tag titles. Flashback 2 remains at the edge of the rampway. Belvedere marches her way. Scruff, inside the ring, appears ready to go. 2600 is busy calming 7800 down. Nathan is FIRED up. Jonathan, the calmer of the two, advises Nathan to sit the beginning out…find his ZEN. Nathan reluctantly agrees. A similar conversation is taking place in the corner of the CHAMPS. 7800 says, “Dilly, dilly.” He steps out. 2600 spins around, locating Jonathan. The bell sounds, and the fans go wild~
Smith: And here we go!! Not Safe For Work is officially underway!
Hood: Holy shit mother fucking cock sucker!
Smith: Really?
Hood: I just had to
~Jonathan and 2600 circle one another…the fans are clapping and chanting “DRAVERS!” A few “ATARI” chants are attempting to gain traction…but it’s clear who these TEXANS are behind. The two men lock up to a huge ovation!! Jonathan snares a side headlock. 2600 tries to shoot him off…but Jonathan holds on. 2600 throws some forearms into Jonathan’s kidney area…he slips out, drops to the mat and rolls Jonathan over for a pin. Jonathan kicks out before Scruff can hit the mat. 2600 reaches his feet…Jonathan takes him over from his knees with a side headlock. 2600 nips up, out of the headlock. He hits the ropes. Jonathan sits up…2600 throws a penalty kick at Jonathan’s head…Jonathan ducks. 2600 whiffs. Jonathan nips up. 2600 spins around and the competitors pause to an ovation from the crowd~
Smith: Fast action early on with neither man gaining an advantage.
Hood: Okay so they’re both quick…way to go.
Smith: What’s wrong, Hood?
Hood: Both these teams suck…they’re too nice. We need some Eric Dane up in this bitch.
Smith: Relax, he’s coming up shortly.
~Jonathan and 2600 circle one another again…mirroring the beginning of the match. They lock up! 2600 goes for Jonathan’s leg. Jonathan hops into the ropes. 2600 let's go. Jonathan leans back and fires forward with a lariat. 2600 ducks. 2600 hits the ropes…he springboards off the middle rope with a reverse crossbody…Jonathan catches him in his arms. He throws 2600 over his shoulders in a Fireman’s Carry. 2600 wiggles…Jonathan tries tossing him over with an FU. 2600 lands on his feet. He hits the ropes…Jonathan throws a high kick. 2600 ducks…he hits the ropes again…Jonathan grabs 2600 and throws him into the air…2600 comes down with a Frankensteiner!! Jonathan flips forward, landing on his feet…he turns around…as does 2600…again they are a stalemate. The fans give another strong ovation…both competitors are breathing much harder than before~
Smith: Wow…these two are reversing and countering everything! These two teams came to play!
Hood: How about somebody walk up and punch the other in the face. C’mon!
Smith: This is a HUGE match, Hood. Those tag titles are as prestigious as tag titles come. Perfectly Marvelous, The Aptitude, Sex and Violence, Awe.Some…a litany of legends have worn those belts.
Hood: Yea, yea, I know…quit reminding me of all the awesome former champions…it’s making this match more depressing.
Smith: Shut it!
~”JONATHAN” Nathan calls out, arm extended. “DILLY DILLY” 7800 calls out, arm extended. 2600 and Jonathan give in, tagging their more emotional counterparts. 7800 leaps in over the top rope, front first…performing a front roll before popping to his feet. Nathan flies through the ropes…the two men meet in the center of the ring and THROWDOWN! Lefts and rights are landing with wreckless abandonment!! The crowd goes wild at the wild brawl breaking out in front of them~
Smith: No chess match between these two…they are trying to knock each other into next week!
Hood: Now THIS looks like where I parked my car.
Smith: Solid Eurotrip reference.
Hood: Fuckin love that movie
~Neither man is budging. They are giving as good as they get. The punches slowly start to weaken. Their postures begin to slouch…it’s clear the incessant pounding is taking it’s toll. Nathan delivers a huge right. 7800 staggers. He fires back with a right of his…Nathan sways. Both men deliver a right…they lean into each other. The fans go “whoaaaaaa” expecting them to fall….they seem ready to topple over before straightening up and returning to a flurry of punches! The fans go wild~
Smith: Wow! These two can take a punch…
Hood: Several, to be exact.
Smith: We’re getting deeper and deeper into this contest, yet it feels as though we’re right where we started.
Hood: Somebody will break. Will it be the…aliens? Or, will it be those pussy Dravers boys?
~7800 finally appears to be losing ground to Nathan. Nathan throws a clothesline!! 7800 ducks and grabs Nathan’s arms…he looks to take him over. Nathan leaps into the air for a Samoan Drop…7800, realizing what’s going on, rolls over, on top of Nathan! They hit the ground with 7800 covering Nathan's chest. Scruff slides in with the count…Nathan kicks out before Scruff can hit the mat. 7800 hits the ropes…Nathan struggles to his feet…the left side of his face is almost swollen from the brawl. 7800 jumps into the air…Nathan catches him…7800 wiggles his legs…his feet find the top rope, he kicks off, spins around and drops Nathan with a Tornado DDT!!! Nathan’s head hits hard!! He rolls over and slides near the ropes, on his back. His chest heaves for oxygen. 7800 sits up, leaning forward…he, too, gasps for air. The fans applaud the action~
Smith: Tornado DDT!! Nathan is down!! Advantage TEAM ATARI
Hood: Note to self: Do not brawl with a dude wearing a mask.
Smith: You think that gave him an advantage?
Hood: Nathan’s face looks like he’s got a fucking jawbreaker inside his left cheek. 7800’s face looks…well, like a fucking mask.
~7800 reaches his feet. Nathan remains down. He heads over and tags 2600 into the match. Jonathan remains in his team’s corner, shouting words of encouragement to his twin brother. 7800 pulls Nathan up. He whips Nathan toward 2600…2600 leaps into the air and smacks Nathan in the face with a spinning heel kick!!! Nathan hits the mat, hard. 7800 seems too tired to extend a ‘dilly dilly’…so he finds the apron. We get a shot of Flashback 2, watching from the edge of the rampway…she paces, nervously. 2600 hits the ropes…he bounces off and drops a quick leg across Nathan’s throat. Nathan sits up, reactionary…2600 snares a chin lock, placing his knee into Nathan’s back~
Smith: Nice chin lock applied by 2600…slowing things down, assessing the situation.
Hood: Ya know, I’d do Flashback 2.
Smith: HOOD
Hood: What? It’s a fucking compliment, man.
~Jonathan claps his hands and stomps his feet on the apron, trying to imbibe his brother with some energy. The fans get behind the cheerleading Nathan begins to rise. He leans forward…he manages to get on all fours. 2600 hops on his back, transitioning into a sleeper. Nathan gets to his feet. His face is red…he’s tired…the Texas sun is causing him to sweat more than he’s comfortable sweating. Nathan rushes back and squashes 2600 into the corner!!! 2600 releases his hold. Nathan turns and sees Jonathan across the ring, arm stretched. He stumbles his way forward. The crowd cheers for a tag!! Nathan is about halfway there. 2600 shakes his head…he sees Nathan heading for the tag. He runs forward…Nathan, growing weary, bows his head…2600 leaps up and drops him with a Fameasser!!! The fans express their disappointment with a collective sigh. Jonathan slaps the top buckle in frustration. 2600 hooks a front face lock and drags Nathan into Team ATARI’s corner~
Smith: Nathan really needed a tag there…sadly, he was unable to get his brother into the match.
Hood: His face is darker than his hair!
Smith: Yes, it’s swollen and covered in sweat.
Hood: It is fucking hot out here…so glad we have these giant MIST blowing fans!
~2600 tags 7800 back into the match. 7800, looking fairly fresh, prepares for some type of ariel maneuver. 2600 hooks Nathan for a suplex…he lifts Nathan up…7800 springboards off the top rope and hits Nathan with a crossbody while 2600 is bringing him over for a suplex!!! They hit hard!! 2600 rolls out of the ring, landing on the metal grating that surrounds the squared circle. 7800 hooks the leg…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: Great teamwork exhibited by Team ATARI, our OCW Tag Team Champions
Hood: I think they work together better than the fucking twins.
Smith: Right now they are…but that’s only due to the fact Nathan has been effectively cut off from tagging in his brother, Jonathan.
Hood: WEAK ASS TWINSING
~7800 gets to his knees, drilling Nathan in the forehead with some straight right hands. Realizing Nathan is down, 7800 rises and yells out “DILLY! DILLY!” The fans can’t help but chant it back. Capricious fuckers. Nathan begins to sit up…2600 points this out to 7800. 7800 hits the ropes, he bounces off and delivers a front dropkick to Nathan’s back!! Nathan arches his back…he lays on the mat, kicking his legs in pain. 7800 pulls Nathan to his feet and whips him into a neutral corner. Nathan hits hard~
Smith: Nathan has got to get something going so he can make that tag.
Hood: It’s the pink hair, Smith. He’s a pussy.
Smith: I think that’s rude and generalizing.
Hood: Generalizing? You mean, common sense?
~7800 yells “DILLY! DILLY!” he springs at Nathan. Nathan ducks and throws 7800 over his head!! 7800 flies through the air…he lands, on his feet, atop the ring post. Nathan stumbles around, trying to regain his bearings, thinking 7800 is on the grating or in the pool. 7800 leaps off the post with a moonsault!!! He overshoots! Nathan sticks his knee out, grabs 7800 and drops him with an Inverted Atomic Drop!!! 7800’s knees turn inward…he nearly doubles over…Nathan measures him up and takes 7800 down with a lariat!!! The crowd leaps to their feet!! “DRAVERS! DRAVERS!” Nathan is on the mat, face down, sucking wind. Jonathan slaps the top buckle…he stomps the mat; he yells his brother’s name~
Smith: Nathan’s got a shot!! If he can make that tag, the Dravers are back in this!
Hood: That damn 7800...how do you go from a moonsault to an inverted atomic drop? That’s like an M Night Shamalamadingdong twist.
Smith: I doubt that’s the proper pronunciation.
Hood: Fuck, like it matters. We all know who I’m talking about.
~7800 sits up first! He shakes his masked head. 2600 urges 7800 to tag him into the match. 7800 rolls to his right, rolling over Nathan’s body. It’s the quickest way to his corner. The disturbance stirs Nathan. He looks up! The crowd goes wild!! Nathan begins he arduous crawl. 7800, on his knees, hustles forward and tags 2600 into the match!! 2600 slides through the ropes. Nathan nears his brother…he extends his hand…he’s inches away. 2600 flies into view with a diving elbow into the back of Nathan’s neck, flattening him out before the tag!!! The fans are once again disappointed…Jonathan lowers his head and kicks at the bottom rope. 2600 hooks a front face lock, driving Nathan away from his team’s corner. 7800 sits on the apron, his back to the ring, recovering~
Smith: Dang it! I’m a fan of both teams, but I really wanted Nathan to get the tag.
Hood: Too bad, so sad.
Smith: He’s taken so much punishment in this match…it would be nice to see Jonathan get in there and freshen things up.
Hood: Hey, if these guys were worth half a shit it might have happened by now.
~2600 looks over, eying his partner who continues to recover. 2600 realizes he’s going to have to go this alone for a bit. He double underhooks both of Nathan’s arms, perhaps looking for a pedigree, maybe some form of suplex. Nathan struggles, the realization that he’s at defeat’s door is hitting him. He rams his shoulder into the lower abdomen of 2600, forcing a release. He hits 2600 with his shoulder again and again, creating some distance. 2600 stands a few feet away, holding his gut. Nathan charges in..2600 does sort of an ‘ole’ slide, grabbing Nathan and tossing him toward Team ATARI’s corner!! Nathan hits hard…leaning into the buckles. He reaches for the rope…trying to stagger ahead. He’s standing in front of 7800, whose back remains facing the ring. 2600 hits the ropes, he bounces off, charging at Nathan. 2600 jumps in the air with a front dropkick…Nathan moves!! 2600 hits 7800!!! 7800 flies off the apron, landing on the metal grating, knees first!! He reaches for his knees, rolling around in pain. 2600, seating atop the bottom rope, his arms hanging over the middle rope looks down, stunned~
Smtih: A breach in team work!! Nathan’s got a shot!
Hood: That’s what happens when you try and nap during a tag match…you get kicked in the back!
Smith: These men are suffering out there for our entertainment, Hood. It’s hot…it’s humid…not a cloud in the sky. If they want to catch some rest, cut them some slack.
Hood: Oh fuck off
~2600 snaps back into action, spinning around and reaching his feet in the ring. Nathan is leaning in Team ATARI’s corner, still worse for wear. 2600 drills Nathan in the stomach with a kick. He spins around with a discus forearm…but Nathan catches his arm!! Nathan spins around, whipping 2600 into the ropes…2600 comes flying off…Nathan puts his head down and lifts 2600 up, into the air, over the top rope…7800, back on his feet, looks up…2600 comes crashing down on top of 7800, taking both men off of the metal grating and into the pool!! The fans go wild!!! “DRAVERS! DRAVERS!” Flashback 2 hustles down the rampway, trying to get as close to Team ATARI as she can without stepping foot on the metal grating. She looks into the water, nervous. Nathan drops to his knees..then to all fours…sweat is pouring from his face to the mat. Jonathan has his arm out, eager for the tag~
Smith: And our first dip in the pool!
Hood: Gonna suck getting those fully body suits all wet.
Smith: Flashback 2 seems concerned…do you think Team ATARI can swim?
Hood: If our tag chams can’t swim then I don’t want to continue living in this world.
~Nathan, on all fours, begins the arduous crawl toward his corner. Jonathan is stomping his feet, hopping up and down. The fans chant “NATHAN! NATHAN!” Nathan is a few feet away…he collapses to the mat! The fans SCREAM. Scruff yells out “ONE!” administering a count on the submerged members of Team ATARI. Flashback 2 hustles down the walkway, looking into the water. She sees a blurred view of their team colors underwater…some oxygen bubbles bothering the surface. But, other than that, nothing. Scruff yells “TWO!” Nathan remains down. Scruff yells “THREE!”~
Smith: Nathan making the tag at this juncture may be immaterial.
Hood: Yea, if Team ATARI drowns and gets counted out then who fucking cares, right?
Smith: Pretty much what I was alluding
~Scruff yells “FOUR!” Nathan remains down…his arms begin to move. He looks to try and push his body off the canvas for one last gasp. Scruff yells “FIVE!” Flashback 2 has seen enough. She removes a thin, zipped up layer of clothing matching Team ATARI’s ring attire. It reveals a v-neck white t-shirt underneath. The fans go wild!! Scruff yells “SIX!” before pausing and staring, wide eyed at Flashback 2~
Smith: These fans seem to be rallying behind Nathan even HARDER!
Hood: They are harder but it isn’t for that pink haired dickbag.
Smith: Huh?
~Scruff snaps back to it and yells out “SEVEN!” Flashback 2 prepares to dive into the water. All male (and some female) fans pray with every ounce of their being that she’ll follow through with the act. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Suddenly…the water breaks. A voice cries out “DILLY! DILLY!” 2600 is launched through the air via the arms and voice of his partner!! He flies onto the ring apron!!! Scruff staggers back! Flashback 2, knees bent, stops herself just short of jumping in. She grabs the outer layer of clothing and puts it back on. The fans weep. 2600 hops onto the top rope, preparing for a springboard! The fans are going wild over this recent development. Jonathan can’t believe it. “NATHAN!” he yells. He stomps the mat as hard as he can. 2600 springboards off the top rope with Nathan in his sights. Nathan pushes up off the mat and dives forward…MAKING THE TAG~
Smith: Nathan made the tag!
Hood: Ah shit
Smith: Jonathan’s fresh and eager to regain those straps!
~2600 lands on his feet. He pauses…the tag takes him by surprised. Jonathan leaps over the top rope and runs 2600 over with a clothesline!!! The fans go wild!! 7800 tries entering into the ring but Jonathan drills him in the head with a knee!! 7800 hits the apron and lands on the metal grating. Flashback 2 runs over to check on him. A soaked 2600 staggers back to his feet, slipping a bit on the canvas. Jonathan hits the ropes, he boucnes off and SPEARS 2600!! The fans are losing their shit! “DRAVERS! DRAVER!” Jonathan pops to his feet, ready to end it. Nathan is laying on the apron, gasping for air~
Smith: Here we go!! The Dravers are looking to regain the titles they lost nearly two years ago!
Hood: OVER two years ago…let’s not make it sound better than it actually is, Smith.
Smith: Fine.
~2600 fights to his feet…Jonathan lunges forward and hits a SUPERKICK!!! 2600 goes stiff before hitting the mat. Jonathan jumps on top of 2600 for the cover…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: He kicked out!
Hood: Fucking aliens!
Smith: They aren’t aliens…I don’t think!
~Jonathan is undaunted. He returns to his feet, waiting for 2600 to do the same. It’s taking 2600 quite a while. 7800 is climbing back onto the apron. Nathan is on his feet, recovering nicely. 2600 reaches his feet and turns his back to Jonathan. Jonathan rushes in looking to lock in Dravers' Death MK II!!! He almost has it locked in…he tries pulling 2600 to the mat but 2600 throws a back kick into Jonathan’s shin…then his knee! He hoists Nathan up onto his shoulder and turns toward 7800. Nathan reaches out, slapping Jonathan’s shoe~
Smith: Team ATARI looking to hit the Pac it in Man!
Hood: The Dravers FRIEND ZONED once again!
~An illegal 7800 leaps up onto the top rope and springboards off, performing a somersault while 2600 holds Jonathan in the tombstome position…they are about to hit Pac it in Man (Meltzer Driver). 7800 rotates and comes down only to get SMACKED IN THE FACE WITH A SUPERKICK from Nathan!!! 7800’s body is wrecked!! Flashback 2 slaps the mat in frustration! His body hits the ring…he rolls out. 2600 is confused…he tries to hit a tombstone but is kicked in the face by Nathan!!! Jonathan uses the momentum to reverse the positioning…he hoists 2600 on his shoulder and delivers SNAKE EYES!! A punch drunk 2600 stumbles around the ring…the brothers look one another in the eye they nod and deliver TWIN MAGIC!!!! 2600’s body goes stiff before hitting the mat. Jonathan hustles over, blocking the portion of the ring where 7800 rolled out. Nathan covers 2600…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings!!! Flashback 2 grabs at her hair in frustration. The Dravers leap to their feet and embrace~
Belvedere: Here are your winners…AND NEW OCW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS…THE DRAVERS BOYS!!!!!
Smith: They did it! The Dravers Boys are now TWO TIME tag team champions!
Hood: I’d be angrier if they didn’t just single handidly win the war against aliens.
Smith: That has nothing to do with anything, Hood.
Hood: On the contrary…it has everything to do with everything.
~Scruff is handed the tag titles. 2600 powders out of the ring to join 7800. Flashback 2 helps Team ATARI down the ramp and away from the ring. Scruff gives the tag titles to the Dravers!! They hold the belts high!! The fans chant “DRAVERS!” The boys are almost emotional~
Smith: It took so long for the brothers to return to this spot!
Hood: Yep, The Aptitude crushed their souls. How long does it take to heal a soul, Smith? Evidently two PLUS years.
Smith: I…I guess.
~The twins soak up the adoration from the fans who splash and cheer wildly in the Laguna pool. ~
Smith: The Dravers have done it once again! What a way to kick off Not Safe For Work!
Hood: It could have gone either way. I think the twins are happy it’s over. Damn what a fight.
~Before the Boys can begin celebrating their victory, everyone in the pool starts murmuring as Lilith makes her way down the walkway leading to the ring and steps inside. She appears to be carrying a box of cookies with her.~
Smith: What the hell is she doing?
Hood: I don’t think she even knows. There is no rhyme or reason to anything Lilith does, she just does it!
~Lilith is all smiles as she looks at the Dravers boys who are as confused as anyone else. She extends her arms out, presenting the box of cookies to the new tag champions.~
Hood: Some kind of congratulatory gesture? I think this woman just loves to give cookies to people.
Smith: Well we did see this happen a week ago with Great Scott. I just don’t think this is the time.
~Nathan and Jonathan are still baffled by Lilith but the two accept the gesture and reach out for the cookies. As they do, Lilith opens the box and quickly pushes it upwards sending a white powder into the Dravers’ faces, blinding them.~
Smith: What the hell?!
Hood: This bitch is nuttier than I imagined!
~Tossing the box aside, Lilith grabs Nathan and sends him into the ringpost shoulder first … HARD! Jonathan is trying to wipe the powder from his eyes when he is sent out of the ring onto the steel grating over the pool. Lilith follows out after him. She holds onto the ropes and stands on his back, taking one foot she places it on Jonathan’s head and stomps his face into the grating over and over again. The crowd is booing like mad.~
Smith: This assault … why? I don’t understand.
Hood: There doesn’t have to be a reason with Lilith, she just does things.
~Nathan is slowly back to his feet, favoring his right shoulder as he manages to clear the gunk from his eyes just to notice that his brother had been taken out by the raven haired psychopath. Nathan is none too pleased that Lilith had ruined he and his brother’s moment and despite not being even close to one hundred percent, he looks ready for a fight. Lilith is grinning like a cheshire cat as she prances around the ring, skipping. Obviously she was very proud of herself.~
Hood: If I were Nathan Dravers, I’d collect my brother and live to fight another day. This woman is unpredictable!
Smith: What a damn mess. Someone has to do something about Lilith. She can’t just walk out here for no damn reas--
~Smith doesn’t get to finish his sentence as “The Only One” by Evanescence hits from the PA system of the water park. Smith’s jaw is dropped and the fans are now in an uproar as it starts to become very clear what is going on.~
Hood: No reason, eh?
~Sarah Twilight quickly makes her way down along the walkway above the pool and towards the ring, “Oh Shit” Contract in hand. Nathan is in complete shock and there is nothing he can do about what is happening. The Mistress of Mischief makes her way into the ring and immediately hands off the contract. Nathan is now looking across the ring at two very dangerous women. There were no more questions as to what was happening.~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen, Sarah Twilight is cashing in her Oh Shit contract. This match will now be for the OCW Tag Team Championships!
Smith: Nobody saw this coming! Lilith is apparently Sarah’s tag team partner and we’re having the cash in right here and right now! The night is only just getting started.
Hood: The Dravers have been tag champs for all of about thirty seconds. This is why that contract is so very dangerous!
~Nathan is the only member of his team who is to his feet as Jonathan was only just stirring on the steel grating. The bell is rung and both women rush Nathan. He is sent into the ringpost yet AGAIN shoulder first. There is a sickening pop as he collides with it. He winces in pain as he slumps down in the corner. Sarah Twilight starts sending vicious stomps into his shoulder.~
Smith: I’m … speechless. Just … wow.
~Nathan is now dragged from the corner to the center of the ring by Lilith who seats him upright. Sarah wastes absolutely no time as she applies her Spellbound submission hold, locking up his arms and putting incredible torque on his already aggravated shoulders. If this wasn’t bad enough, Lilith reaches down and applies a Death Grip to his face at the same time! There is nothing for Nathan to do but submit. He slaps his hand against the side of Sarah’s leg and the bell is rung once again. The crowd boos in disgust, Nathan never had a chance. But that is the nature of the contract, like it or not.~
Belvedere: Here are your winners and the NEW OCW Tag Team Champions …. SARAH TWILIGHT and LILITH!
Hood: And just like that, The Dravers are your FORMER Tag Team Champions. A successful, and very opportunistic cash in by Sarah Twilight.
Smith: We knew Sarah was cashing in tonight … but nobody expected this. Not only has Sarah Twilight benefited from her contract, but so has Lilith.
Hood: This is how you make a statement, and an impact. We have new tag team champions and I don’t think the Dravers are going to be too happy about that.
Smith: Definitely not. A feel good moment turned into a nightmare for the both of them. Even tag teams are not safe from the Oh Shit contract.
Hood: And this night has only just gotten started! What a way to set the pace. What a way to deliver. And there is so much more to come!
~Backstage at the Schlitterbahn Waterpark, there at least seems to be a bit of a backstage area as you can’t just lazy river your way to the ring. Sadly. Regardless, pacing back and forth here tonight is none other than Fabian Dufresne. Dufresne is wearing his wrestling gear because he’s set to go on here rather soon, and of course he’s sporting those awesome looking sunglasses that he’s always wearing. But, the pacing probably means something isn’t exactly right with him. Nerves before his first PPV match? Maybe, who knows~
~Just then he stops and checks the screen of his phone, because who has a watch these days?~
DUFRESNE: “Where is this guy? Where the fuck are my alligators? How am I supposed to make this show Not Safe for Work if there are no alligators in the pool just waiting to eat Darion Zion or Ed Houston? I swear to God if Jethro screwed up my shipment, I’m going to feed him to the gators.”
~At the exact moment that Fabian says the word Gators, some random somebody walks by and hears that word~
RANDOGUY: “Go Gators! Tebow!”
~This causes Fabian to shudder in disgust.~
DUFRESNE: “Fuck Tim Tebow!”
~Fabian continues to pace as he continues to stare at his phone just counting down the time left for him to hatch his devious scheme. Just when all hope seems lost for Fabian a UPS delivery guy appears with an envelope in his hands, this of course gets Fabian all happy to all confused within a matter of seconds.~
DUFRESNE: “Alright great, here we go… I assume the package has been left somewhere else for reasons that I don’t understand.”
UPSGUY: “All I am going to need for you is to sign here and your delivery is all set.”
~With that the UPS guy hands over the electronic signing thing which Fabian scribbles on with his finger, of course he’s not really paying much attention to what he’s doing but instead looking around for a giant crate that has twenty alligators just waiting to be released.~
DUFRESNE: “Are they extra hungry? Did they not get fed on the plane ride to Texas? I hope, I hope…”
~The UPS guy is now the one a bit confused as he just hands over the large white envelope to Fabian and then walks off.~
DUFRESNE: “What the hell? Where are my…”
~Fabian tears open the envelope with some hope left that there might be alligators on the horizon, but you know where this bit is already heading. Fabian looks at the sheet of paper and iifts up his sunglasses as his expression turns into a frown.~
DUFRESNE: “Why, it’s the bill… fuck. That dumb three toothed inbred gator fucker sent me the bill instead. He switched the damn addresses. That means that while I got the bill… Marcus got the… the… oh shit!”
~With that Fabian books the hell out of there throwing the bill in the nearest garbage can he can find. There will be not alligators here tonight.~
Smith: Well that’s a relief!
Hood: You know you’re an important guy when UPS not only delivers to you on Sunday but finds you in the middle of a water park. Fabian is a star!
Smith: That or OCW was double anxious to ensure the viewers were aware that NO ALLIGATORS would be in the Laguna Pool.
Hood: This place just isn’t what it used to be.
Smith: Fabian will compete in a little bit. But next we’re going to send you over to our second location this evening…it’s Gruene Hall. I don’t want to put the cart before the horse…but I don’t think I’m taking that big of a leap to say Gruene Hall will feature the more gruesome elements of tonight’s broadcast.
Singles Match
Bob Grenier (27-17) vs. Eric Dane (0-0)
~We cut to Gruene Hall. The historic structure used for social gatherings, mass alcohol consumption, and furtive fornication is decked out in wrestling garb. Tonight it serves as a safe space for blood, sweat, and broken bones. The ring is situated dead center underneath the roof of this primarily wood composed structure. A few feet of buffer surround the ring, with a skinny, metal guard rail meant to keep the fans at bay. There’s a thin mat covering to prevent the fans from landing on the harsh, unforgiving, thick wooden floor. The lights inside are on, but most of the illumination is provided naturally, via the HOT Texas sun. The bar in the back is open, serving as much beer as the three bartenders can push out. Outside Gruene Hall stands thousands of onlookers, peeking in through the transparent screens (meant to keep most of the mosquitos out). The doorless entryway is manned by a couple of big security guards, ensuring that only certain, expensive tickets are permitted access. Opposite the bar is a stage. A place for bands to play on weekends. It’s currently empty, save from some generic band equipment residing as far back as possible without being crushed into the wall. All other encumbrances have been removed…it’s simply a bar, a stage, a ring, and a shit load of fans all hanging out underneath a roof in the middle of a hot, crazed Texas town. Belvedere’s voice rings out through the speakers as he does his job from the Laguna Pool. Gruff stands in the ring~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is scheduled for one fall!! Introducing first…
~“Binge and Purge” – Clutch begins to play. BOOOS consume Gruene Hall and all the surrounding areas. We get an overhead view of the fans standing outside the venue. They part as a massive, angry looking man makes his way toward the establishment. He scowls at the two security guards. They part, granting the man access. He enters Gruene Hall and looks around. Fans, dangerously close, chant “FUCK YOU, DANE! FUCK YOU, DANE!” Eric Dane, The Only Star defiantly smiles and walks past the fans as though they fail to exist. He hops the skinny guard rail and approaches the ring~
Belvedere: From New Orleans, Louisiana…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 240lbs…please welcome The Only Star…Eric Dane!!!
~The ‘New Orleans’ portion of his introduction receives a slight pop. As we said, these fans are of the ‘party’ variety. Dane leans into a corner, arms draped over the top ropes, awaiting the arrival of his opponent. He’s been through it all. He’s seen it all. This unique setting fails to impress~
Smith: Eric Dane is here!
Hood: He’s got a big test tonight, Smith. Mike Best had to get through Bifford and The Incredible One. Max Kael had to get through PerZag. Aidan Collins had to get through Alice Knight. CMF had to…oh, who am I kidding, CMF was golden the day he arrived!
Smith: Your point being?
Hood: My point being that if Eric Dane is going to live up to his big money contract, then tonight features a test he must pass.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~The fans in and around the venue become one in chanting “BOB! BOB! BOB!”~
Smith: An OCW original is about to make his appearance and these fans are ready!
Hood: OCW fans have always had the worst taste. They’d probably order nachos at a seafood restaurant.
#Where the hood...
~The place ERUPTS as the opening to DMX’s “Where The Hood At” blares throughout Gruene Hall. The crowd outside gets even rowdier as BOB GRENIER fights his way through the fans. His fists are heavily taped. His scarred forehead looks extra dangerous. His eyes are intense, focused on the venue ahead. He bullies his way past security, entering Gruene Hall. He hesitates, for a moment, staring at Eric Dane. Dane chuckles, casting a condescending look Bob’s way. It’s clear he deems Bob far beneath his legendary stature. Bob spits at the ground~
Smith: This perfunctory attitude by Eric Dane is only going to fuel Bob’s fire!
Hood: Dane is a Rolls Royce, Smith. He’s a fucking Ferrari. Bob is a clunky old pick up truck that you use to haul garbage around. You pick the chicks up in a Ferrari.
Smith: I hate that analogy.
Hood: Why? Do you drive a pickup?
Smith: No, I drive a Honda Civic.
Hood: Lame
Belvedere: From Timmins, Ontario, Canada…he is a –
~Belvedere is cut off! The fans go wild as Bob leaps over the guardrail and sprints toward the ring, sliding in under the bottom rope. He pops to his feet. Dane rises to attention. The two men meet in the center of the ring and go at it, trading rights and lefts!! We hear the bell sound as the fans are going crazy~
Smith: No need for a snazzy entrance, Bob Grenier came here to fight!
Hood: So did Eric Dane…we’ve got an all-out brawl between two veteran hosses taking place right in front of our very eyes. THIS is what Pro Wrestling is all about!
Smith: Can Bob Grenier give Eric Dane a healthy dose of OCW or will Eric Dane live up to the lofty nature of his contract?
Hood: I don’t know…but I can guarantee you that this shit is going to be rough.
~Dane seems to be gaining the upper hand. He’s bigger and stronge, therefore, his punches are packing more power. Bob, feeling like he’s losing control, reaches up and rakes the eyes of Dane! The fans pop! Dane stumbles, reaching for his temporarily blinded vision. Grenier nails him with a HUGE forearm uppercut!! Dane stumbles into his corner. Bob runs forward, leaps up and drills a knee into Dane’s chin!! Dane’s head snaps back. Bob hooks Dane and tosses him into the middle of the ring with a Northern Lights Suplex!! He tries to bridge into a pin, but Dane kicks out too fast~
Smith: Bob with the early advantage!
Hood: I know Dane is a legend, but you really don’t want to brawl with Bob. He’ll spit in your eye, kick you in the dick, give you a wet willy…he’s violent!
Smith: I’ve never seen him perform a Wet Willy.
Hood: Only on special occasions, Smith. And believe you me…it’s absolutely devastating.
~Bob flips onto his knees and hovers over Dane. He pounds the Only Star in the forehead with straight right hands. Gruff leans against the ropes watching. Every now and then he throws a look over his shoulder at the bar, perhaps desiring a cold beverage. Bob begins choking Dane. The fans continue to cheer his assault. Gruff sighs and heads over, administering a five count. Bob breaks at the count of five. Dane rolls onto his side coughing, holding his throat~
Smith: We don’t see Gruff much…but, whenever we do, I often wonder why he remains in this line of work.
Hood: For the money.
Smith: Evidently…he clearly would always rather be somewhere else.
Hood: He’s just too damn old for this shit, Smith.
~Grenier returns to his feet. He kicks Dane in the back. Eric gets onto all fours. Bob kicks him in the chest. Dane rises to his knees, leaning back. Bob throws a kick, smacking Dane in the chest. He throws another kick…Eric catches his leg this time. Eric rises. Bob throws an enziguri…Dane ducks!! Dane grabs Bob’s other leg, holding him in the wheelbarrow position. He falls backward, tossing Dane into the nearest corner with a Wheelbarrow Suplex!! Bob hits hard! The back of his head SLAMMING into the middle buckle!! He stumbles to all fours, shaking his head. Eric Dane slowly rises to his feet~
Smith: Eric Dane has taken control.
Hood: Bob whiffed on a kick, and that cost him.
Smith: You can’t make a mistake against a man like Eric Dane.
~Dane marches toward Bob. Grenier gets to one knee. He looks up…his eyes find Dane looking down on him. Bob hurries to stand…he reaches his feet only to receive a vicious head butt from Dane!!! Bob stumbles back into the corner, shaking his head. His scarred forehead is already irritated. Dane charges forward with a HUGE clothesline!!! Grenier stumbles forward…Dane hooks him with one arm, spins around and plants him into the mat with a spinning Rock Bottom! Bob sits up; holding is chest…a few coughs escape his mouth before he collapses back to the mat. Dane returns to his feet, forgoing a pin attempt. The veteran knows a false finish would only allow Bob time to recuperate~
Smith: We’re seeing the effectiveness of Eric Dane’s offense…a style he’s molded throughout the years. A combination of strength, experience, and violence.
Hood: You act like he’s some shitty ass brawler. The guy can work, too!
Smith: When he needs to, yes, he can.
~Bob tries getting up. Dane snares Bob’s head in a Cravat, forcing the OCW Hall of Famer to his feet, in a bent forward position. Bob winces, his neck taking the brunt of the pressure. Grenier throws a few taped fist shots into Dane’s kidney area…the Cravat is weakened. Bob manages to reach up, he grabs Dane by the head, reverse positions, spins Dane around and drops him with a neckbreaker!! The fans pop. Bob sits up, holding his neck. Dane remains down. Grenier rises to his feet. Dane sits up. Bob stomps Dane in the back…Dane rolls onto all fours, rising to one knee. Bob hits him in the head with a right fist. Dane stands…he staggers to his left, finding the ropes. Bob yells out, holding up his fist…he charges forward, taking a wild swing. Dane ducks and lifts Bob up and over the top rope!! Bob lands on the apron, holding onto the top rope for leverage. Dane throws a back elbow…it smacks Bob right in the face!! Bob’s left arm loses hold…he’s hanging by just his right hand. Dane spins around and decks Bob across the face with a straight right hand!! Grenier’s right-hand let's go…he falls off the apron landing flat on his back outside the ring!! The fans sigh with disappointment. Dane steps through the ropes, onto the apron. He takes a seat, catching his breath and rubbing the back of his neck from Bob’s earlier neckbreaker before hopping to his feet on the outside~
Smith: Bob’s doing his best but Eric Dane seems to have a counter for everything Bob throws at him.
Hood: Dane just keeps coming and coming at Bob. It might be time for some of that Grenier magic.
Smith: Grenier…magic?
Hood: Yes, weapons.
~Dane reaches down, grabbing Bob by the head, yanking Grenier to his feet. Grenier shoves Dane back. Dane backs into the apron. Grenier lunges forward with a knife edged chop…Dane ducks. Bob stumbles forward…he turns around only to be grabbed by Eric Dane. Dane throws Bob head first into the skinny, metal guardrail!! It is shoved a few feet back, causing fans to scatter. Bob’s head is wedged between two vertical bars. Gruff begrudgingly heads through the ropes, to check on Bob. Eric pushes Gruff aside. Gruff gets this “Don’t manhandle me, boy!” Dane motions that Gruff should go have a drink. Gruff turns, seeing the bar line empty, for once. So, he sneaks away for a quick beverage. Dane takes his boot and shoves it into Grenier’s ass, pushing forward as hard as he can…the result is Grenier’s neck, his delts all being crammed into the vertical, metal bars. Grenier yells out in pain~
Smith: Ugh, that looks painful.
Hood: Man I wish Gruff could get me a beer while he’s over there.
Smith: Yea, not the most professional act by our referee.
Hood: Oh, it’ll only take a minute. Count outs are loosely enforced during Pay Per Views anyway.
~Gruff reaches the bar only to find several people in front of him. Boy that line materialized quickly. He considers heading back…however, since he’s there, he may as well stick it out. Meanwhile, Dane ceases with the pressure. He steps over the guard rail and shoves fans aside. He focuses on Bob’s head. He runs forward and slams his knee right into the side of Bob’s face!!! Bob yells out in pain…the side of his head and neck traumatized by the metal bars. Dane stands in front of Bob…he shows no remorse. He takes his giant boot and smashes it into Bob’s forehead…the force pops Bob’s head free from the bars, sending him rolling back toward the ring. He’s down, holding his neck, kicking his right foot against the floor. Dane makes his way back over the guard rail~
Smith: Poor Bob…he could have an injured neck.
Hood: Yea, maybe…but Bob can handle it. I’m pretty sure he once vacationed in Chernobyl and, upon returning, he was cured of all health issues he may have had before heading over there.
Smith: I don’t believe that for a minute!
Hood: Thirty seconds?
Smith: No!
~Dane snares Bob by the head and applies another Cravat. If at first you don’t succeed. He wrenches Bob’s neck, dragging him near the steps. Gruff remains in line. Dane walks Grenier to one side of the steps…he stands on the other…he eyes the ring post~
Smith: Surely he wouldn’t…
Hood: Why not? Dude’s here to win, Smith. He’s not here to make friends.
Smith: This could break Bob’s neck!
~Dane appears ready to slam the back of Bob’s neck into the post. He rears back, holding onto the Cravat…he lunges forward…Bob slips free!! Dane’s hands BANG into the post!!! He doubles over, grimacing, shaking both hands. Grenier falls back, on his ass. He continues to hold his neck…the look on his face shows the realization that he narrowly averted disaster~
Smith: Bob escaped! Dane’s hands could be damaged…broken knuckles, dislocated fingers…that was a nasty sounding impact.
Hood: THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS
Smith: You think Dane should just come in here and be handed an OCW Title shot? Well, forget that! He’s going to earn it!
Hood: Fine..but we don’t need to BREAK the guy’s fucking hands. What if he’s a pool shark during his off hours? How’s he going to feed his kids now, Smith?
Smith: I don’t think he’s a pool shark. I’m sure his OCW contract is more than enough to fund whatever it is he does outside of wrestling.
~Dane works both hands open and shut. They hurt, but they don’t appear to have any structural damage. Dane steps onto the middle ring step, making his way toward Bob. Grenier suddenly jumps forward and rips Dane’s feet out from under him!! Dane falls backward, experiencing a rough landing along the jagged edges of the ring steps!!! He winces in pain before rolling down the steps to the floor, arching his back. Bob, on his knees, leans across the middle step, continuing to recover. The fans go wild…the ‘BOB!’ chants are back in full force. Gruff is still in line~
Smith: What a move by Bob! Just when you think he’s out, he fires up and levels the playing field!
Hood: Geezus…can we NOT break the back of our big signing? Is that TOO much to ask?
Smith: This is a fight, Hood. The winner will likely find themselves thrust into title conversations.
Hood: Okay, so break Bob’s back, then. It’s already fucked.
~Bob, with the aid of the steps, pushes to his feet. He’s favoring his neck. He also leans backward, keeping his back from tightening up. The man is old with many, many miles on that body of his. He heads toward Dane. Dane’s on all fours, working to a standing position..we see dark red marks along his back from the previous impact…but no blood. Bob fishhooks Dane from behind…the expression on Dane’s face says he’s not particularly enjoying the moment. He throws an elbow into Bob’s stomach. Bob relinquishes the hold, stumbling into the guardrail. Dane turns around. He reaches for Bob…Bob boots him in the gut and tosses him at the guardrail. Dane runs into the guardrail stomach first…he doesn't go over. He turns around. Grenier charges in with a clothesline…Eric catches Bob, spins around and slams him, back first into the top of the guardrail!!! Bob falls to his knees, reaching for his back. Dane greets him with a straight right hand to the jaw, sending Grenier falling over. Gruff is ONE AWAY from the bar~
Smith: Bob’s neck has been worked over and now his back has been reaggravated.
Hood: It’s a tough night for the Grenier family.
Smith: Meanwhile, Gruff is still trying to buy a beer…these two men could have been counted out several times over by now.
Hood: Yea, but where’s the fun in that?
~Dane eyes Gruff. He reaches under the ring, securing a steel chair. The fans BOOOO. Bob is on all fours. Dane reaches back with the chair and cracks it over Bob’s back!!! Bob flips over, arching his back, wincing in pain. Dane smashes the chair into Bob’s chest!! Grenier rolls around, writhing in pain. Dane continues to bash the chair into Bob until the former OCW Champion comes to a halt, lying near motionless. Dane flings the chair as far as he can into the crowd…his chest rising and falling as it works to fill his lungs with air. Gruff finally reaches the bar~
Smith: He just decimated Bob with that chair.
Hood: Yep, every time Bob gets something going, Eric Dane comes at him harder than before.
Smith: Indeed..it’s as though Bob’s climbing this ladder, trying to find a rung above Eric’s head. He thinks he’s achieved his goal only to find Eric’s foot, realizing that he’s got a ways to go.
Hood: In other words…Dane is saying ‘GET ON MY LEVEL’
~Gruff reaches the bar! He proudly orders a BUDWEISER…a hearty cheer rings out for the all American man. He then furtively orders a fireball. He throws the shot back and grabs his beer. He puts it all on ‘The Tab’. We’ll guess that’s an OCW tab. He jauntily heads back to the ring, beer in hand. Dane picks up a lifeless Grenier. He drags him toward the ring, slamming Bob face first into the ring apron. Gruff steps into the ring, taking a sip of beer. He yells out, “ONE!” The crowd kinda laughs. Dane looks up as if to say, “Really?” Gruff is like “Thems the rules, pal.” He takes a sip and yells out, “TWO!” Grenier suddenly fights back!! He manages to get some strength in his legs, shoving Dane away. He throws a flurry of punches at The Only Star. Dane absorbs them before chopping Grenier across the chest!!! Bob falters into the ring apron, leaning sideways. Gruff yells, “THREE!” Dane kicks Grenier in the head with a big boot!!! Grenier rolls into the ring. Gruff yells “FOUR!” Dane slides in, breaking the count. Gruff takes another sip of beer. Dane crawls over toward Bob…he pummels Bob in the head, repeatedly until Grenier goes lifeless once more. He covers Bob, bypassing any leg hook. Gruff drops to his knees and makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Bob’s not done yet!
Hood: Dane has dominated most of this match. Bob has two choices…give up now, live to fight another day or experience the ass kicking of a life time.
Smith: Bob’s got more fight in him than any wrestler in OCW history. I feel he’s got one more rally left in him.
Hood: That might be heat stroke.
~Dane, on his knees, unleashes a series of right fists, measured directly into Bob’s scarred forehead. The scar tissue appears to break open. We see blood staining the first fist of Eric Dane. He stops, working his hands open and shut, reminding us that they are still jarred from the ring post spot earlier in the match. Dane returns to his feet. He kicks at Bob, goading him, “C’mon, Bob! Get your ass up!” Bob rolls over, a light stream of blood falling from his opened scar tissue, into the mat. Dane hooks Bob by the waist. He deadlifts the man off the Canvas and throws him over with a Gut Wrench Suplex. Bob hits hard, arching his back~
Smith: Eric Dane in total control as he’s busted Bob’s head open.
Hood: Bob’s got a bad back, a sore neck and now no skin remaining on his forehead.
Smith: He’s got SOME skin on his forehead.
Hood: Why the hell isn’t the skin on your forehead called foreskin? I don’t get it…
Smith: A strange discussion for a different time, perhaps.
~Dane stomps Bob’s chest. He continues to mock the OCW legend. Grenier sits up. Dane kicks him in the back, resulting in a loud “THUD”. Bob leans back, wincing. Dane snares Bob by the hair…he pulls Bob to his feet. He inspects Bob’s forehead. He takes his right hand and begins to yank on Bob’s injury. Grenier yells out. He throws a boot right into Dane’s groin!!! Dane drops to one knee. Gruff, busy indulging in the bottom half of his beer, missed the groin kick – or just let it fly, we’re not 100% sure. Grenier snares Dane by the head and falls backward, delivering a swift DDT! Dane is down! Bob is down! The fans begin to chant “BOB!”~
Smith: Alright! Bob is fighting back!
Hood: Doesn’t this guy know he’s Canadian? It’s Canadian tradition that when the going gets tough you take a hike. Give it up, Bob!
Smith: Sounds like some fake news to me!
~Dane sits up, shaking his head. Bob lifts his legs up like he’s going to nip up, but, instead rolls over and gets up the old fashioned way. Classic Bob. Bob beats Dane to their feet. Dane, on one knee, receives a double axe handle to the head. He leans forward. Bob clobbers Dane in the back of the neck. He pulls Dane to his feet by the chin and blasts him with a forearm uppercut!!! Dane leans back. Bob smacks Dane with a clothesline into the chest. Dane leans against the ropes. Bob charges in…but Dane ducks!! Bob is lifted over and onto the apron…but he remains standing. He reaches over and rakes Dane across the eyes. Dane stumbles forward. Grenier leaps up…he’s looking to springboard off…his legs are shaky…this isn’t exactly Bob’s wheelhouse. He manages to find enough balance to leap into the air. Eric turns around and lifts a knee right into Bob’s stomach!!! Bob tucks and rolls, holding his abdomen. He kicks his feet and grunts loudly~
Smith: That knee must have really found its mark.
Hood: Yea man I haven’t seen Bob experience that much pain since he saw Alice Knight win the OCW Title.
Smith: Yea, I…wait a minute!
~We get a shot of Dane’s knee brace~
Smith: He’s got that vibranium knee brace!
Hood: Bob Grenier is carrying a vibrator in this match?
Smith: No you fool!! Dane’s knee brace is made of vibranium. He SHOULD NOT be allowed to wear that in the match.
Hood: I’m sure he’s got a doctor’s note explaining everything.
Smith: I have my doubts.
~Bob tries to push up, facing the mat. The blood continues to leak, sporadically from the wound in his head. Dane stands over Bob, looking down on him full of arrogance and derision. He drops to one knee…the knee falls right on top of Bob’s hand! Bob reaches for his hand and yells out, loudly. Dane rises back to his feet, continuing to cast a very condescending gaze on Bob~
Smith: This knee brace has altered the course of the match!
Hood: What are you talking about? Eric’s been whipping Bob’s ass all over Texas…and Texas is a big fucking state so that’s, ya know, a major ass whipping
~Dane steps forward…he jumps into the air and brings the knee down, aiming for Bob’s back. But Bob moves!!! Dane’s knee slams into the mat. It does no damage, other than throw The Only Star off for a second due to the misfire. Bob rolls into the ropes. He uses them to return to his feet. Dane stands. Eric makes his way toward Bob, moving like a man with little regard toward his opponent. He shoves Bob against the ropes. Bob leans in and head butts Dane!! It leaves a spot of blood on Dane’s forehead. Eric shakes his head, brains scrambled from the impact. Bob leans into the ropes, bounces off and takes Eric down with a HUGE lariat!!! Dane hits hard! Bob is face down…the fans, again, rally behind Bob~
Smith: Bob is showing the fight we’ve seen him exhibit since the day he joined OCW!
Hood: Filthy ass Canadian…probably a fan of those Raptors, too.
Smith: Yes, I’d imagine.
Hood: Fuckin sucks, man. I LOVED the raptors in Jurassic Park. Then Toronto had to go and name their lame ass basketball team ‘The Raptors’…how can a red blooded American like anything associated with the territory known as Canada?
Smith: Well, I mean Canadian Bacon isn’t…
Hood: IT’S FUCKIN HAM
~Bob gets to his knees. Dane tries to sit up. Bob grabs Dane by the head and delivers more headbutts. The crazy canuck is determined to ruin his own body to inflict damage on The Only Star. Dane’s brain is rocked. Bob’s finally got some momentum. Grenier stands…he yanks Dane up. He leans back, lunges forward and drills Dane with a HUGE head butt…a loud “CLUNK” resonates throughout Gruene Hall. Bob kicks Dane in the gut. He locks Dane’s head and hoists him up for the Hollinger Park Hangman!! Dane, though, fights on the way up, kicking his legs. It’s obvious Dane, at the very least, scouted out Bob’s finishing maneuver. Bob puts him back down, reaching for his back. Bob yells ‘FUCK’ and kicks Dane in the knee brace. Dane no sells. Bob looks down at the knee brace like ‘what the fuck?’ He looks up and is BLASTED by a right hand from the Only Star. Grenier spins around…Dane takes his back, locking both of Bob’s hands. Eric looks for a straight jacket suplex…but Bob, like Dane earlier, refuses to go up. A pissed off Dane recalculates his course and spins Bob around, pulling him in for a ripcord lariat. Bob ducks!! Bob takes off, he hits the ropes. Dane spins around. Bob charges at Dane…he leaps into the air for a jumping lariat…Dane catches Bob…the momentum spins both men around…Dane manages to hold on and bring Bob down, back first across his knee!!! The brace cracks right into Bob’s injured back!!! Grenier yells out in pain!! Eric, on one knee, shoves Bob’s shoulders to the mat, looking for a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Bob kicked out…but that back. It was injured at Social Justice. It’s obviously STILL giving Bob problems and now Dane just stuck that ILLEGAL knee of his into Bob’s bad back!
Hood: It’s not Dane’s fault that Bob’s back is some kinda weak ass bitch.
Smith: I’m all for LEGAL targeting. But with that knee brace? I don’t know how this can be allowed!
Hood: As I said…it’s a medical thing, Smith. I have no doubt OCW offices cleared the brace.
Smith: Sounds like some weak, you know what, booking to me!
~The Only Star blinks a few times, while on one knee. The numerous head butts are having an effect. Bob’s head, meanwhile, is so CTE riddled that he could headbutt just about anything as many times as he wants and it’d have minimal impact. His back, on the other hand. Dane rises. He grabs Bob by the hair and yanks the OCW legend to his feet. Bob stumbles and struggles using his legs due to the pain firing within his back. Dane shoves Bob into a corner and delivers a HUGE knife edged chop. Bob falls to the mat. He struggles trying to get up but seems incapable of doing so. Dane looks down on Bob…he puts his boot into the back of Bob’s head and kicks it around. The fans boo. They chant “FUCKIN DICK HEAD!” Dane gives zero fucks~
Smith: If you’re that much better than him, Dane…prove it! This attitude is disgusting.
Hood: So what if he wants to play with his food a little bit? Guy’s earned it, Smith!
Smith: Maybe if it were somebody else…but not Bob Grenier.
Hood: THIS is how you make an impact. THIS is how you say ‘fuck the ladder.’ Dane’s on the expressway to the top!
~The Only Star looks down at Bob and says “Pathetic.” He yanks Bob up. He knees Bob in the gut to double him over…it wasn’t really necessary, aside from Dane’s own enjoyment. He lifts Grenier up in the air~
Smith: Star Destroyer!
Hood: Where?
Smith: Stop looking into the sky you idiot! Watch your monitor! Eric Dane’s patented Ushigoroshi! And…oh no…he’s going to use the knee brace!
Hood: You see Yoshi? What, the dinosaur from those video games?
Smith: Stop talking
~Dane’s got Bob into position. He brings him down…but Bob lands on his feet!!! He avoids the impact. He hits the ropes! Dane tries to catch up with the turnabout. Bob charges forward…he spins around and blasts Dane in the head with a roaring forearm!!! Dane is ROCKED. Bob delivers a huge BACK FIST to Dane’s head!! Dane is rocked HARDER. Bob yells out, “KAWHI!!!!” and delivers another THUD of a headbutt. Dane’s knees buckle!!! Bob boots Dane in the gut and hoists him up for Hollinger Park Hangman~
Smith: He’s going to pull it off!! Grenier rising from the Canadian grave!
Hood: Well that makes sense. Only a Canadian would dig a grave shitty enough that a corpse could rise from it.
~Bob’s back suddenly gives out!!! He stumbles forward. Dane manages to land on his feet. He stumbles into a corner before gaining his balance. Bob drops to all fours…he breathing is labored. He gets to his knees, trying to find a position that puts the least amount of pressure on his failing back. He looks over at Dane. Dane charges forward with the force of an old fashioned locomotive. A steel beast. He leaps into the air and BLASTS Bob right in his head with Starbreaker (Bomaye Knee Strike!!!) Bob is WRECKED. Dane’s knee remains attached to Bob’s forehead. He reaches over and has to pull it out of Bob’s broken flesh. He does so and makes the cover. Gruff finishes his beer, tosses the bottle into the crowd and makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…“THE ONLY STAR” ERIC DANE!!!!!
Smith: Oh no! Poor Bob!
Hood: Dane wins! Dane wins!
Smith: Did you see Dane’s knee? It was stuck to Bob’s head!
Hood: I had no idea Bob’s head was magnetic.
Smith: It’s not! The force of that strike embedded Dane’s, questionably legal, knee brace into Bob’s head. That was unfortunate and gross.
Hood: It was necessary. Eric Dane proved to OCW that he’s a major player. What a fuckin beast!
Smith: He is tough…as for Bob. He’s still as talented as they come…I just hope his back…his head…his entire body. I hope he’s okay.
Hood: As long as he has access to lots of alcohol and drugs, he’ll be fine.
#Where the hood...
#Where the hood at?
~We cut poolside to where Who’Re is standing by with the brand new OCW Tag Team Champions, Lilith and Sarah Twilight. Both women wearing their newly acquired gold. Lilith snuggled closely to her wife and holding her a bit inappropriately on the chest which makes the interviewer a bit uncomfortable. She obviously notices as Lilith’s hands are clearly where they shouldn’t be in public.~
Lilith: HEY! Sarah’s eyes are up further you pervert!
Who’Re: Right, uh … sorry. Congratulations to you both. Quite a shock to everyone.
Sarah: It was inevitable. I said I was leaving here with gold, and I am. Just so happens that I like the way my wife looks in gold as well.
Lilith: Yep yep yep and my Sarah LOVES to make me happiful too! One thing that didn’t make me happiful though, not happiful AT ALL is the fact that when I came out here just a bit ago… all bouncy and excited the fans didn’t cheer me on. NOPE! They booed me! Went full on grrrrrr mode on me! And why?! Cos Lilo and her Sare Bear fought hard in a match they BELONGED in the first place?! Pfffffffft! Would they have booed Erin Gordon or Andrea …. whatever her last name is like that?! NOPE!!! Course not! They just showed their true colors! They went grrrrr on me the second I got out here… so IMMA go DOUBLE grrrrrr on all of them!
~Sarah interrupts Lilith as she gets herself worked up over the crowd.~
Sarah: Don’t concern yourself with the sheep, darling. They aren’t worth our time or effort. Fact is, we are walking out of here with championship gold around our waists. That shitty pair of twins didn’t deserve the glory, and those fucked up Nintendo ripoffs sure as hell didn’t deserve it. You are LOOKING at the future of OCW, and we’re only just getting started.
Lilith: YEAH! Also the EARTH ISN’T EVEN FLAT! It’s round just like these…
~Lilith grabs Sarah’s boobs hard and then glares at Who’Re as she watches what is happening. ~
Lilith: FOR THE LAST TIME HER EYES ARE UP HERE!!! You look at my super yummiful wife like that again and I swear to god bear I will show you GRRRRRR!
~Sarah looks back at Lilith and gives her a nod that interview time was over. This slutty hack with a microphone didn’t deserve any more of the Tag Champs’ time. There was celebration to be had.~
Sarah: Let’s get the fuck out of this dump.
~The two women push past Who’Re to leave poolside and make their way to the water park exit.~
Smith: Twilight said she'd make good on her cash-in and she did just that. You have to give her credit.
Hood: Yea man I'm kinda glad it paid off...she held that thing for five years. Imagine waiting five years and failing.
Smith: It's amazing when you think about Lilith and Twilight's departure back in 2014. Now, here we are, five years later and they are living up to the promise they showed all those years ago.
Hood: Uh huh...now if only we could get Lilith to stop being so...Lilithy
Smith: I doubt that will happen, Hood. Anyway, it's time for our next match this evening as we cut back to the Laguna Pool. It's a Battle Royal for a shot at the OCW Craze Championship!
Over the Top Rope and Into the Pool Battle Royal
Mack O’Connor (30-10) vs. Ed Houston (23-14) vs. OGDA (12-7) vs. Erin Gordon (3-0) vs. Fabian Dufresne (2-0) vs. Darin Zion (1-0)
Belvedere: The next match is the OCW Craze Contenders Battle Royal!
~The crowd gives a cheer, knowing how unpredictable this one's going to be.~
Belvedere: Each wrestler will start off inside the ring. To be eliminated, a wrestler must be thrown over the top rope and land in the water outside. If a wrestler goes over the top but does not fall in the water, they can still return to the match. The last wrestler standing will be the #1 Contender!
Hood: So, wait, if you land on that metal grating outside the ring but don't fall in, you can return?
Smith: You'll be hurting from the landing, but you'll still be alive!
Hood: I'm suddenly having visions of ODGA crashing into the metal twenty times in this match.
Smith: Why are you smiling?
Hood: Hush, don't interrupt my dreams!
Belvedere: Introducing first, standing 6 feet 1 inch and weighing 201 lbs, he's currently undefeated in OCW... FABIAN DUFRESNE!!!
~The horizontal hold of the TV screen gets messed with, then the vertical hold of the TV screen gets messed with, then the whole picture gets messed with. Finally, just as you’re about to change the channel a whistling begins to echo out over the ring area and this is followed by Rammstein’s “Engel”, a single spotlight shines down on the entrance portal as out struts Fabian Dufresne. With a cocky grin the blonde-haired bastard wears a pair of lined sunglasses and brightly colored ring gear as he begins to make his way down to the ring. As the fans reach out looking to make contact Fabian just backs off and swats at them as if they were flies, he then begins to complain towards OCW event security, arguing both about the fans and about the pool around the ring. He's clearly upset.~
Smith: Dufresne went to quite the expense to try and make this match for "NSFW". Unfortunately for him, the legal division has gotten involved, and the alligators have been banned from the pool.
Hood: Cowards. What, were they worried we'd get picketed for animal rights, if one of these wrestlers landed on the poor, little alligators?
Smith: No, I'm pretty sure the problem was more the OCW wrestlers getting eaten.
Hood: Don't they want to make history??
~Dufresne enters the ring, talking with Belvedere for a moment about the lack of alligators around the ring. Belvedere appears to apologize, but it's not his department. Dufresne then moves to a neutral corner, still disappointed.~
Belvedere: Next, now entering the arena... standing 5 feet 7 inches and weighing 154 lbs, from Blooming Valley, PA, and also undefeated currently in OCW... "THE ONCOMING STORM" ERIN GORDON!!!
~The first strummed chords of 'Hurricane' fill the air, the crowd's cheers rising in response to the woman that is about to emerge. The Oncoming Storm stands with her shoulders square and her hands curled into fists at her sides. The wind machine is on behind her, blowing her hair around as her gaze moves over the assembled crowd and the surroundings alike... before it settles upon the ring. As 'Hurricane' cuts to the chorus, she makes her way down the aisle, not shying away from the hands that reach out for her.~
A tidal wave of fear and pain carries us away.
Another fight into the night until nothing else remains.
How do we find harbor from the hurricane?
~Erin's focus never wavers, even as she grabs onto the ropes and hauls herself up onto the apron. Wiping her feet, she climbs into the ring between the top and middle ropes before she heads to her corner, turning to rest her back against the turnbuckles. Only then does she play a little to the crowd, a single fist thrusting itself skyward to earn more cheers as her music fades.~
Smith: Gordon, like Dufresne, has stayed undefeated through her first run of matches. But tonight, at least one of them is taking their first loss in the company.
Hood: I'm betting on Gordon going down. Dufresne moves a lot faster than a punching bag.
Smith: In this kind of match, though, anything can really happen. One of these two rookies could shock the world and leave veterans like Houston & O'Connor behind.
~Gordon enters the ring, with Dufresne stepping towards her for a moment. But Gordon is already getting set, her fists clenched, and Dufresne turns his move into a stretch and yawn, before smirking at her.~
Belvedere: Now coming to the ring as our third entrant... standing 6 feet 0 inches and weighing 240 lbs... from Chicago, Illinois... here is DARIN ZION!!!
~“Bow Down” by I Prevail blares across the speakers. After a few seconds the name “Darin Zion” flashes across the screen. Zion walks toward the ring wearing his leather hoodie. As he makes it half way down the walkway, he flips his hood down behind him as he surveys the crowd. He rushes the rest of the way before he climbs up the stairs. Immediately he leaps over the top rope and lands on the ground kneeling. He points at the crowd as he calmly watches the other wrestlers and awaits the other opponents.~
Smith: Zion is our third undefeated wrestler in this match, although that is only with a 1-0 record. Still, it counts!
Hood: Does it? Does it really?
Smith: Yes. Yes, it does.
Hood: To me, this guy's just another crowd-pleasing, autograph-signing wrestler who's coming into this one not at 100 percent.
Smith: Didn't I see you with your autograph book earlier?
Hood: Shut up, Smith. The eMpire is different.
~The Ting Tings Shut up and Let me Go kicks through the PA system. Right on cue, Bester emerges dancing to the beat and generally having a great time~
Smith: I think it’s safe to say that Bester is in a good mood.
Hood: What the holy fuck?
~Bester at the beginning of the walk way leading down to the ring breaks out a couple of dance moves, some pelvic thrusts and gets everyone to clap their hands in time to the beat~
Belvedere: From Scottsdale Arizona! Weighting in tonight at 306 pounds tonight. BESTER!
~Bester plays to the crowd for a second and then signals for the music to be cut. He then is handed a mic by a random staff member (as though this was all planned?!)~
Bester: NEW BRAUNFELS TEXAS! HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT!
~Huge cheap pop. Nothing less than it would have been a disappointment.~
Bester: I know a lot of you came here tonight to cheer me on, to watch me win this battle royal and become the new number one contender to the OCW Craze title, a title that I once held! And to be honest, after the last couple of weeks, a month now, I could use a real pick me up and winning this battle royal would be that pick me up! BUT! I have an announcement!
Hood: He’s leaving?
Smith: shhhh!
Bester: Bester! Bester won’t be in this match! I know! I’m sorry.
~Sprinkle in some boos and some chatter from the crowd~
Bester: But don’t worry! You see, I found my replacement! I’ll go get him! OH! And music man! Hit my new music!
~Limp Bizkit’s My Way hits the PA system as Bester gentle puts the mic down, spins around so his back to everyone and digs around in his trunks, and a couple of seconds later, slips on the OGDA mask! OGDA spins around to a huge pop! A rainbow shoots over the stage just over OGDA’s head!~
Hood: Someone kill me now! I can’t…..I just can’t!
Smith: HOOD! LOOK! IT’S OGDA!
~OGDA then runs down to the ring. He slides into the ring, bouncing to his feet and leaping onto the second turnbuckle~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen! Now entering the Over The Top Into the Pool Battle Royal! ORGULLOSO GUARDIÁN DEL ARCOIRIS!
~The other contestants already in the ring look at OGDA like he’s crazy. Belvedere resumes his duties~
Belvedere: Next up, now coming to the ring... standing 5 feet 9 inches and weighing 175 lbs... from Miami, Florida, he is a former OCW Crazy and Paradigm Champion... here is "THE ROCKETMAN" ED HOUSTON!!!
~Our screen turns black and then slowly starts to count down from 10. Once it hits 1 the sound of a rocket taking off echoes throughout the area. You're Gonna Go Far, Kid starts to blare as Ed Houston slowly makes his way to the ring. He stops by fans and high fives them. Once he gets about half way down the walkway, he sprints and slides under the rope. He quickly jumps to his feet and makes his way up to the turnbuckle where he waves to the crowd.~
Smith: Houston managed to work out his lawsuit with Paramount Pictures this week, after organizing a protest against the movie "Rocketman".
Hood: The moron got them to the table and settled for a future movie role. Do you know how much cash he could have gotten?
Smith: It's not always about the money, Hood.
Hood: That's just plain stupid, Smith. Of COURSE it's always about the money! You think these guys would be fighting here if it was just about pride? Well, maybe Houston, but I guarantee you most of them wouldn't be here.
Belvedere: Finally, entering the arena... standing 6 feet 3 inches and weighing 220 lbs... from Brooklyn, New York, he is a former OCW Champion, Paradigm Champion, and Savage Champion... here is MACK O'CONNOR!!!
~"Vagabond” by the Greenskeepers hits. Mack O’Connor comes out and walks directly to the ring, dressed in jeans and a black tank top. He occasionally raises an arm to acknowledge and get a rise out of the fans. He slides into the ring and starts pacing in his corner. He doesn’t talk trash to his opponents, but he makes sure to stare them down, letting them know he means business.~
Hood: I still can't believe Welsh fell for O'Connor's trick and let him into this match.
Smith: Everyone knows that O'Connor is still chasing his Grand Slam of titles. Welsh was more than willing to give him this opportunity due to the threat of investigations.
Hood: Well, give the bastard credit, he's got his chance now. But can he do anything with it?
~The bell rings.~
Smith: So here we go! We've got a good mixture of high-flyers and brawlers in there tonight. Who are you taking?
Hood: High-flying is suicide in a battle royal. Taking those big risks, what's the point? A brawler will definitely win this one.
Smith: O'Connor and OGDA are the largest brawlers in this one, but don't rule out the speed of Dufresne or Houston, or the striking ability of Gordon or Zion.
Hood: So, you're riding a fence on your pick? Lazy ass.
Smith: Wait, so who's your pick?
Hood: I'll tell you later.
~All six wrestlers move cautiously at first, with the exception of Mack O'Connor, who seems to have a plan in mind. He starts talking to Houston, apparently about the union and O'Connor's position at the top. Houston is shaking his head, not wanting to do O'Connor any favors, but O'Connor is insisting. OGDA comes over and starts talking to them as well, inquiring about what dues are owed to be in the union. O'Connor, not one to turn down a chance at some loose cash, turns to him. But before he can close the deal, all three men are suddenly attacked by Dufresne, Gordon, and Zion! The three wrestlers each choose a target, with Dufresne nailing Houston with a superkick, Gordon hitting a running punch into O'Connor, and Zion taking OGDA down with a snap DDT! The three wrestlers look at each other for a second, and then go back on the attack.~
Hood: Looks like the newcomers are working together!
Smith: Battle royals can lead to strange team-ups.
Hood: The newbs are just going after the old men who have already been at the top!
Smith: I wouldn't call any of those three 'old'...
Hood: Give them the Senior Citizen Over The Top Rope Discount!
~Dufresne has Houston down in the corner, using the ropes to jump up and drive his feet into him. Zion has OGDA against the ropes, already trying to lift him out, although OGDA has a lock around the top rope. To the side, Gordon brings up O'Connor, trying to work him over against the ropes. But O'Connor knocks one shot aside, grinning, before letting loose with a closed fist, sending Gordon staggering back. O'Connor laughs for a second, but then Gordon straightens back up, surprising him, and comes back with a haymaker of her own, rattling him against the ropes. Gordon, serious, steps in, landing a few more shots, before then taking O'Connor over with an armdrag takedown. She sets for O'Connor to get back up... and suddenly Dufresne is there behind her, grabbing her by the tights and sending her over the top rope!! Gordon doesn't fall, though, landing on the apron and hanging on.~
Smith: That alliance didn't last long.
Hood: Dufresne's willing to do anything to win tonight. Hmmm, maybe HE should be my pick.
~Dufresne takes a moment to bask in the boos of the crowd, looking pleased with himself. He doesn't realize that Gordon didn't go out. She angrily pulls herself back into the ring and spins Dufresne around before he can react, taking him down with the Downpour (head pull backbreaker)! Dufresne rolls away, stunned, as Gordon jumps back to her feet... only to be clotheslined back down by O'Connor! Mack looks more annoyed as he gets up, planning to continue his attack, but now Zion is there, grabbing O'Connor and taking him over with a German suplex. Zion rises back up, but OGDA is there with a shoulder tackle, sending Zion flying. But as soon as OGDA is back on his feet, Houston springboards off the ropes and flies in with a missile dropkick! Houston then gets up and prepares himself, as the crowd is cheering the chain of wrestling going on.~
Smith: We're watching some of the most thrilling athletes in the sport going at it here!
Hood: They do remember that the goal is to toss your opponent out, right?
Smith: None of these guys are pushovers, Hood. It's going to take some damage before anyone goes over the top.
Hood: C'mon, just have five team up and toss out the sixth, and then four turn on the fifth, and so on. It's not rocket science!
Smith: The Hood Theory of royals, ladies and gentlemen.
~Houston looks around, choosing his next target. Dufresne has opted to roll out of the ring, managing to stay on the three-four feet of metal grating. He went under the ropes, so he's safe. Houston, ignoring him, goes after a rising Gordon, driving her back into a corner. Nearby, O'Connor is back up, going for some revenge on Zion with right hands. OGDA is on one knee, trying to clear his head and reposition his mask. It's been a while since he's worn it, after all. He finally rises, though, and decides to join O'Connor. Mack stares at him for a second as OGDA sets his fist, then lands a hammer blow to Zion. O'Connor nods to him, impressed... and then nails OGDA with a right cross! OGDA steps back, stunned. But Zion shoves off the ropes and lands his own strike to O'Connor. OGDA swings at him, and the three men start unleashing several stiff shots against each other in a triangle of violence. The crowd is loving it.~
Smith: Considering the skills of O'Connor and Zion, it's impressive that OGDA's holding his own against them!
Hood: It's gotta be the mask.
Smith: It does seem to give OGDA added positive energy and determination.
Hood: No, I mean, the mask is padded, it's the only way he's still standing.
~To the side, Houston now has Gordon hanging over the ropes, trying to send her out. But Gordon hangs on, then unleashes a few back-elbow shots to shake Houston off. She turns and hammers away on him, knocking him back. Zion, seeing this, breaks away from the three-way fight and turns to run at Gordon, but Gordon ducks under his charge, hits the ropes, and comes back with the Stiff Breeze rolling elbow!! Zion hits hard, stunned. Houston staggers back towards her, but Gordon hits the ropes again and lands a second Stiff Breeze, sending Houston almost all the way around from the hit. Gordon then lets out a battle cry, feeling the flow of adrenaline, as she continues the attack.~
Smith: Gordon continues to impress in her time here in OCW. Her career would skyrocket here if she can notch up wins over so many stars!
Hood: I can guarantee O'Connor wouldn't forget it.
~At the moment, O'Connor and OGDA are in the ropes, with O'Connor trying to find a way to get OGDA's leg up. OGDA is fighting back, though, keeping himself from going over. Gordon opts to come over and lend a hand, grabbing at OGDA's other leg. They double-team the masked wrestler, slowly lifting him upwards. OGDA, struggling, looks backwards out to the crowd, looking at them upside-down. He seems to focus on a couple of fans who have their own makeshift masks on, and starts firing up, kicking strongly with both legs. Gordon and O'Connor topple backwards, as OGDA comes back to his feet. He points out to the crowd, shouting to the Rainbow Warriors. Gordon is back up, scoring with a right hand, but OGDA wags his finger to her, then blocks the next strike and lands his own shot. He nails O'Connor as well, staying in control... until Zion and Houston come racing in, nailing OGDA with a double clothesline!~
Smith: For a second there, I thought OGDA was going to start taking over this one!
Hood: Just goes to show that fan adoration can only take you so far.
Smith: He's still in the match, though, Hood.
Hood: Everyone's still in the match, dangit! I want to see someone get wet!
Smith: ...
Hood: Yes, I know, I regretted it as soon as I said it.
Smith: No you didn't.
Hood: You're right, I didn't. Someone get dunked!
~Houston goes to pull OGDA up, wanting to get him over the ropes. But Zion has other ideas, coming in and nailing OGDA with the Flash Point!! OGDA topples to the ground, but stays in the ring, as Houston, stunned, turns towards Zion only to take a kick as well! Zion spins and nails a recovering Gordon, too, taking over the match. He sets, watching Houston trying to get up. Zion goes off the ropes and comes back... and falls flat on the mat, as Dufresne trips him up from the outside! Furious, Zion hops to his feet again and turns to Dufresne, who's shrugging his shoulders to the wrestler. Zion starts to go towards him, thinking of climbing through the ropes, but Houston's now there, spinning Zion around and nailing him with his own superkick!! Houston, We Have A Problem!! Zion falls against the ropes, and Houston immediately charges, clotheslining Zion over! He crashes off the apron and bounces off the grating as Dufresne hurriedly gets out of the way. Zion can't stop himself, landing in the pool! Lifeguards for the park immediately start moving in to help, as Zion comes back to the surface.~
Belvedere: Darin Zion has been eliminated!
Hood: Finally!
Smith: Zion's night ends much earlier than he'd like, thanks to the involvement of Dufresne from the outside.
Hood: Man, just think how cool this would be with the alligators!
Smith: Never going to happen, Hood.
Hood: Damn.
~Houston takes a second to recover, hanging on the ropes, before turning back towards the center of the ring. Unfortunately for him, he turns too late, as O'Connor comes charging in and spears Houston to the mat! O'Connor hops back to his feet, clearly no longer messing around. Gordon, seeing this, comes in with a big swing, but O'Connor dodges, then grabs Gordon and picks her up on a shoulder, powerslamming her onto Houston! Both roll away, in varying degrees of pain, as O'Connor turns his attention back to OGDA. He pulls the masked man up, setting him against the ropes. He whips OGDA to the other side and goes for a big clothesline, but OGDA ducks under it and comes back from the other direction, putting his fist on his forehead and running over O'Connor with the Rampage of the Narwhal! Houston struggles back up, but OGDA just changes course and runs him over as well, and then adds in Gordon for good measure! With everyone down, OGDA turns to the crowd, screaming out "NARWHAL!!" The crowd reacts back, as OGDA is fired up!~
Smith: The biggest man in this match is starting to assert himself!
Hood: No one has ever proven that Narwhals exist.
Smith: Don't let OGDA hear you say that.
~Houston is again trying to get back to his feet, holding his side. OGDA comes up from behind, setting himself and grabbing at Houston's head to apply the Cloud 9 submission!!! Houston struggles, not wanting to drop back, hanging onto the ropes, but OGDA is slowly but surely choking him out. However, OGDA's distracted, and behind him, Dufresne finally returns to the ring, seizing his moment. He comes up behind both wrestlers... and lands a double low blow!!! OGDA releases the hold in agony, as Houston, not in any better shape, falls into the ropes. OGDA, grimacing badly, staggers to the side, as Dufresne goes off the ropes and comes back with the Golden Touch kick!!! This sends OGDA up and over to the outside, crashing and burning before he ends up in the water! Dufresne laughs at OGDA trying to swim before going back to Houston, continuing his assault.~
Belvedere: OGDA has been eliminated!
Hood: Give Dufresne credit for choosing his moments!
Smith: I know everything's legal in this one, but that still felt uncalled for.
Hood: It got the job done, that's all that matters. Dufresne is one step closer to a title shot.
~Dufresne gets Houston into a corner, raking the eyes just to add to his pain. He keeps working over Houston, trying to weaken him enough to eliminate him as well. On the other side, O'Connor is back on his feet. He pulls up Gordon, but Gordon shoves him away, and they start exchanging punches. As strong as Gordon is, though, trying to match O'Connor punch-for-punch is impossible, and soon O'Connor has control. He picks Gordon up and bodyslams her, causing her to clutch at her spine in agony. In the corner, Dufresne has Houston up and hanging over the ropes, but Houston is hanging on for dear life, refusing to let go. Back to O'Connor, he rubs a hand across his mouth, possibly checking for any blood, before reaching down for Gordon... who pulls him down suddenly into the Twist'er Off submission hold!! O'Connor struggles mightily against the hold, as Gordon tightens it in, wrenching O'Connor's arm.~
Smith: Erin's got him locked in!
Hood: But it doesn't matter! Even if O'Connor miraculously tapped out, it wouldn't make a difference!
Smith: No, but if O'Connor's arm is weakened, he might not be able to save himself on the ropes!
Hood: Good point, although Gordon's lucky Dufresne is otherwise distracted. I'm sure he'd love to take advantage of this.
~O'Connor fights to the ropes on instinct, even though Gordon doesn't have to break the hold. He gets a grip with his free hand, then starts pulling himself up. The change in angle causes Gordon to release the hold so she's not lifted up. She rolls to her feet, shoving her hair back out of her face. She waits for O'Connor to fully get up, and then charges in, trying to clothesline him out. The first hit only lifts O'Connor up a few inches, though, so Gordon runs back and returns with more momentum. O'Connor lowers his shoulder, though, and Gordon goes up and over him! But Gordon lands on the apron, then lands a left cross to O'Connor, stunning him. Gordon goes to stretch herself back in, leaning over the ropes towards her foe, but O'Connor turns to meet her, swinging his two fists like he's holding a baseball bat to whack Gordon out of mid-air!! Gordon bounces back over the ropes and falls to the outside, bouncing violently on the girder!! Somehow, she doesn't keep rolling, though, saving herself from the pool.~
Smith: Gordon's almost out, surviving mere inches from disaster!
Hood: Yeah, but that landing was almost like an elimination on its own! I don't know if that girl is going to get up!
Smith: Until she's in the water, she's not gone.
Hood: Someone may have to go out there and ease her into the pool then.
~Dufresne doesn't turn towards O'Connor, as he's busy trying to choke out Houston on the ropes with his leg. O'Connor gets back to his feet and slowly comes over. He looks to grab Dufresne, but the wrestler turns and starts talking to him, basically telling him to let him get rid of Houston first. O'Connor doesn't appear to have a problem with this, taking a few steps back to the corner. Dufresne, smirking, gets off Houston's neck, allowing the man to finally suck in some oxygen. Dufresne, ready to end it, drags Houston up, then takes him on the run towards the ropes. But Houston, in a shocking display of athleticism, runs UP the ropes and flips over, grabbing a stunned Dufresne and taking him down with a flipping neckbreaker!! Houston flattens out, breathing heavily after landing the shot. He opens his eyes, though, at just the right time, seeing O'Connor coming in to capitalize with a dropping punch. Houston moves just in time, causing O'Connor to punch the mat instead. O'Connor lets out a small groan as he clutches at his wrist, standing back up, and Houston takes advantage with a hurricanrana that sends O'Connor into the lower ropes. Dufresne returns with a rush, but Houston trips him up, sending him next to O'Connor on the ropes. Houston then gets some distance and runs forward, jumping up and putting a knee into each man's back! Houston does a roll and gets back to his feet, with the fans behind him.~
Smith: The fighting spirit of Ed Houston cannot be denied!
Hood: Quick, Mack, offer him a deal through the union! Give him, like, a television ad or something!
Smith: I don't think O'Connor's power goes that far.
Hood: He got himself into this match, I wouldn't doubt Mack could pull anything else off.
Smith: A decent point.
~O'Connor is the first of the two to get back to his feet, but this makes him the first back down as well, as Houston grabs him and drops with a Russian leg sweep. As O'Connor rolls away, Houston turns to Dufresne, who once again goes for the equalizer with a low blow attempt! But Houston catches him this time, blocking the shot, and glares at Dufresne, dragging the now-concerned wrestler back to his feet. Dufresne tries to beg off, stepping back, but Houston follows, pissed off. Dufresne tries for the eyes, but Houston dodges, then grabs at Dufresne and takes him over with a cradle suplex! Houston jumps back up, having clearly gotten his second wind. As Dufresne rises as well, Houston grabs him and takes him to the ropes, nearly throwing him out. Dufresne hangs on, though, and kicks back into Houston's leg, staggering him. Dufresne then tries to send Houston over, but Houston manages to balance himself in mid-air and comes back down. Both men exchange shots, trying to stun the other... and then both go flying as Mack O'Connor reappears, slamming into both men and sending them BOTH over the ropes!! O'Connor falls back, putting his arms into the air, as the crowd gasps in astonishment.~
Hood: Now all O'Connor needs to do is kick Gordon in, and this one's done! My pick wins!
Smith: I don't think it's going to be that simple, Hood!
Hood: What are you talking about? Of course it's... oh.
~As O'Connor starts to get up, confused at the lack of response from Belvedere, the camera moves to show us the other side of the ring. Hanging from the bottom rope with one firm hand is Ed Houston. On the other side, clinging to the grater, is Fabian Dufresne. Both wrestlers use their arm strength to pull themselves up, sliding back into the ring. O'Connor, still thrown off, turns back and sees both men returning. He charges again for a double clothesline, but both men matrix around the swings, then come back up. O'Connor tries to come back, but Dufresne clocks him with the Gordian Knot!!! O'Connor falls on the ropes and rebounds, only to get nailed by Houston's superkick!! Again, O'Connor falls onto the ropes, dazed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Gordon jumps onto the apron, to a loud cheer from the crowd. She swings from the apron, nailing an unprotected O'Connor with the Nor'easter!!! O'Connor collapses on the ropes, only standing out of sheer instinct. Dufresne and Houston, continuing their unlikely partnership, both leap at the same time, double dropkicking O'Connor and sending him over the ropes! Gordon gives a helpful shove, and O'Connor can't save himself, rebounding off the grater into the water!! There is a large splash that soaks the nearby crowd.~
Belvedere: Mack O'Connor has been eliminated!
Smith: Sorry, Hood, your pick is out of here!
Hood: Who said O'Connor was my pick?
Smith: What... YOU just did!
Hood: I lied. C'mon, Dufresne!
~As Gordon leans on the ropes, still in danger, Dufresne tries to take advantage. He swings at her, but Gordon blocks it, then punches him away. She steps back into the ring to some cheers, energizing herself. Houston attacks, not wanting her to get momentum, but Gordon sidesteps him, tripping Houston up and sending him sprawling into the corner. Gordon then turns back to Dufresne, who snaps upwards with a low blow! Gordon staggers for a second, but obviously it does less damage to her, as Dufresne quickly realizes when he takes a knee to the face. Gordon lands a couple more knees, snapping Dufresne back to the mat. Behind her, Houston springs himself up using the ropes, getting to his feet quickly. Gordon spins and launches a forearm, but Houston blocks it with his own arm, then rolls with Gordon, putting her into the Countdown ankle lock submission!!! Gordon screams in pain, as Houston tightens his grip, trying to take Gordon's ankle away from her. Dufresne pulls himself back up, hearing the sounds of agony, and seems to enjoy it. But he decides not to wait, charging at Houston from behind and clipping the back of his knee!! Houston goes down, releasing the hold, and both he and Gordon stay on the mat, holding their injured limbs.~
Hood: Fabian's foes can't stand! He's got this!
Smith: It's surely an advantage for him, but in a battle royal, if they can't stand, you've got to pick them up to throw them out.
Hood: True, but it sure makes it harder for them to toss you!
~Dufresne seems to hesitate, trying to decide which downed wrestler to attack first. Apparently, the lure of beating on Gordon appeals more to him, as he starts stomping away on Gordon's already hurting ankle. She tries to pull it in close to protect it, but it's no use. Dufresne's attacks are dead on. He finally gets tired of continuing the punishment and instead lifts Gordon up, wanting to take her to the ropes. He works to lift Gordon over, but Gordon fights back with elbows and forearms, managing to turn herself around. Dufresne tries again to come in, but Gordon clocks him with a heavy right fist. Dufresne stumbles back, and Gordon goes to follow him, possibly wanting another Nor'easter. But the ankle gives way, dropping her to a knee. In frustration, she slaps the mat, then lifts herself back up, going for it again. But Dufresne has had too much time to recover, lashing out himself with the Golden Touch!!! The hit sends Gordon flying over the ropes and to the outside, and the journey ends in the water, ending Gordon's night! Dufresne points out at Gordon like he's holding a mic, then does an invisible mic drop, laughing to himself at the hatred coming in from the crowd.~
Belvedere: Erin Gordon has been eliminated!
Smith: Hell of a night from Gordon, showing how much potential she has in OCW, but it just wasn't her night.
Hood: Way to go, Fabian! One more to go!
Smith: We are, indeed, down to two! One of these men will be walking out a #1 contender here shortly!
~Dufresne has cockily leaned on the ropes, acting like he's resting, as he watches for Houston to pull himself back up. Houston's got a bit of a limp, now, after that knee clip. Dufresne makes a point to gesture towards where Gordon is being helped from the pool, and then points to the two of them. He comes forward, extending his arm, as if to say, "May the best man win." Houston looks at the hand like it's an Elton John autographed album. He has no interest in touching it. Dufresne slowly lowers his hand, shrugging. It was worth a try. He then leaps in with a swing, but Houston manages to block it, and fires back with shots of his own, driving Dufresne towards the ropes. Houston tries for a discus punch, but his leg staggers him just enough for Dufresne to duck under it, then take Houston down with a swinging neckbreaker. Dufresne then hops up, heading towards the nearby ropes. He springs off them, coming back with a lionsault and hitting it perfectly. With a mocking grin, Dufresne slaps the mat for the count, but Houston still instinctively kicks out at 2, annoying Dufresne.~
Smith: This isn't that sort of battle royal. We're not ending until one of these men is tossed out. No pinfalls.
Hood: Hey, I say if he pins him, it should count. It's Dufresne's way of putting him out of his misery.
Smith: That's not the rules!
Hood: So, you want him to toss Houston over the top rope, onto the metal grating, and then possibly drown? You're sick, Smith.
~Having his fun now, Dufresne pulls Houston up and takes him over towards the edge. He sets Houston near the ropes and goes to suplex him up, dropping him on the apron. Dufresne then tries to punch Houston off, but Houston dodges it by hanging backwards on the apron. He then snaps his foot up, catching Dufresne in the side of the head! Dufresne takes a step back, but there's no thought behind it, as he then just topples onto his back, knocked senseless. Houston, seeing this, braces himself on the outside and springs himself up onto the ropes, flipping into the ring with a 450 splash!! Houston lays on top of Dufresne, with the crowd quickly counting to 3, cheering wildly afterwards.~
Smith: There's your pin, Hood.
Hood: In no way was that a legal count! That was fast as hell! These fans are biased!
Smith: That's no doubt true. They'd love to see Ed win here tonight.
~Houston is back on his knees now, trying to will the energy to come into him to keep fighting. Dufresne has rolled to his side, his arms wrapped around his ribs. Houston rises first, looking towards the turnbuckle. He wants to fully finish this one, walking slowly to the corner to start climbing up. He's looking to land Blastoff and make it almost a sure thing. But Dufresne is back on his feet and comes over, catching Houston on the turnbuckle. He climbs up with him, slugging away on Houston, and trying to shove him over. Houston hangs on, and throws his own punches, and now it's Dufresne unbalanced. Both men struggle on the top rope, each looking for the advantage. Houston opts for headbutts, stunning Dufresne, but as Dufresne begins to fall, he grabs Houston's arm... and BOTH men topple over the ropes and fall to the outside!! The crowd gasps as they both plunge down, crashing down partially on the apron to land on the metal girder. Somehow, against all odds, both men manage to stay out of the pool. Neither looks too healthy after that fall, however.~
Smith: They're not out yet! The ref's signaling both are still legal!
Hood: But Houston's foot went into the pool!
Smith: And so did one of Dufresne's hands!
Hood: So what counts? What percentage of your body needs to go in? Completely covered or over 50 percent? This wasn't explained enough! I think Dufresne should have just won!
Smith: Well, he hasn't Hood, so deal with it!
Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING!
~Both men struggle to get up on the thin metal girder. Houston almost turns himself the wrong way but manages to recover. Dufresne, seeing this, comes in with a forearm shot, rocking Houston back. But Houston answers with his own shot, and they start exchanging blows on the very edge of elimination. The crowd is loving it, as they slug back and forth. Houston goes for his Houston, We've Got A Problem Superkick, but Dufresne knocks it away. Dufresne then lashes out with the Gordian Knot, but Houston dodges it as well, leaving Dufresne pinwheeling his arms on the edge. He manages to correct himself and turns back, as Houston climbs onto the apron. Dufresne follows, quickly sliding under the ropes to make himself safe again. Houston, meanwhile, is still on the apron, so Dufresne tries to take advantage, going for the Golden Touch!! But Houston drops while pulling down the rope, and Dufresne racks himself on the top rope!! The fans, even with their support of Houston, wince at that one. Houston doesn't show any mercy, though. He jumps up and catches Dufresne around the head, yanking him down with a hurricanrana that sends both men spinning towards the water!! But while Dufresne goes into the pool, Houston somehow hangs onto the rope!! He skins the cat and rolls himself back into the ring, collapsing to the mat, as the bell rings and the crowd goes berserk.~
Smith: He did it! Houston did it!
Hood: Son of a...
Belvedere: Here is your winner, and the new #1 Contender to the OCW Craze Title... ED HOUSTON!!!
~Houston raises his arms in celebration, looking completely exhausted. In the water, we see Dufresne swimming to the side, looking extremely pissed off. Someone in the audience throws a big inflatable at him, landing it right in front of him. It's an inflatable alligator. Upset, Dufresne quickly rips a hole in the alligator, letting it sink, before getting out of the water. Houston, meanwhile, has pulled himself up and heads to the turnbuckle, taking in the cheers from his fans.~
Smith: Huge win for Ed!! He needed that one!
Hood: Suck it, Elton John...not literally.
Smith: This guarantees Ed a spot on our next PPV event where he will compete for the Craze Title. What a night for the Rocket Man...he just outlasted five of the very best OCW has to offer.
Hood: I think Mack needs to stay away from Ed.
Smith: Mack, I believe is 0-2 in matches containing Ed Houston
Hood: Don't forget to praise Fabian...dude looked great. As did Erin.
Smith: They all looked great, Hood. A tremendous match filled with six great wrestlers...what a show we've experienced thus far and we've got so much more to come!
~We flash to an area behind the waterpark where OCW trailers are stationed. This is obviously the 'backstage' area for tonight's event. Seated on a wheeled crate with the letters “OCW” stamped on the side sits Silver Cyanide, cross legged, drumming his fingertips against each other and staring forward into nothing. Various OCW employees and arena staff file back and forth past him, paying him no mind but for the occasional anxious glance. One person, however, comes pacing slowly and hesitantly straight up to Cyanide. He’s hard to miss. He’s seven feet tall and nearly 500 pounds. He is none other than Cyanide’s long time friend and sidekick, Bear, the same man who abandoned Cyanide and flew back to live in Russia mere days ago. He steps up next to Silver Cyanide, whose eyes don’t move from the wall opposite him. Bear clears his throat.~
Bear: Ahem…um…hello, Mr. Silver.
~Cyanide doesn’t even twitch. Bear looks around nervously and decides to give it another go.~
Bear: Hello…Mr. Silver.
~Still nothing. Bear sighs in Russian and takes a step towards Cyanide, reaching a hand out to touch him—but Cyanide throws a hand of his own up, palm first, straight into Bear’s face. Bear freezes, then lowers his hand.~
Bear: I have someone who would like to see you.
~Bear turns and waves his hand to signal for someone to approach. From around the corner comes none other than Bear’s sister, Cyanide’s estranged wife, Natasha Andropov. She comes up and stands next to Bear, and you begin to marvel at the wonders of nature when you think about how two people of complete different sizes came out of the same vagina.~
Bear: Mr. Silver…look. It is Natasha.
~Still though, Cyanide stares forward, not acknowledging either of the two Andropov siblings, not even the wife he hasn’t seen in years. Natasha fidgets slightly, and we see that her left hand has a gold wedding band still.~
Natasha: Steve, Bear told me about what’s supposed to happen tonight. Your match with Mario and Paul. He never got on his flight back to Russia. He changed it at the last minute and came to find me in a last-ditch effort to keep all three of you alive.
~Natasha sighs.~
Natasha: We didn’t have a perfect marriage. We both know why we got married. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. And I care about Mario and I care about Paul. And so does Bear. We absolutely do not want this match to happen. Will you please…just talk to them?
~Silver Cyanide slowly turns his head, his eyes matching Natasha’s…and she looks away. His eyes continue and match Bear’s. He looks away.~
Cyanide: There’s nothing left to say. Everything that needed to be said has been said. The only thing left now is to do. I’m not going to have a career after tonight because that’s the choice I have made. I can’t play this game anymore. I’m out of shape, I have grey hairs, I’m slow, and my body hurts everywhere. But I don’t have to worry about wrestling tonight.
~Cyanide slowly reaches a hand behind him.~
Cyanide: Because at this Texas Death Match, there will be more than enough weapons to level the playing field. My goal is to force Welsh to cancel the main event because the ring has to be classified as a crime scene.
~Cyanide pulls his hand out from behind him…and rakes the slide of a pistol. Bear and Natasha jump back and raise their hands out in front of them.~
Bear: MISTER SILVER YOU CAN’T DO THAT
Natasha: STEVE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING
Bear: MISTER SILVER NO WAIT STOP
~Cyanide jumps at their protests and looks around in a daze, as if he just woke up from a dream, then his eyes settle on the pistol in his hands as if he just noticed it.~
Cyanide: Oh shoot yeah this thing is probably against the rules still I bet. Bear, be a good lad and go dump this in a river somewhere.
~He tosses the pistol underhandedly to Bear, who catches it against his chest. Cyanide then hops off the OCW crate and begins walking down the hall as if nothing occurred. Bear and Natasha stare wide-eyed at the gun in Bear’s hands as Cyanide turns the corner of the hall and disappears.~
Smith: I'm glad Cyanide came to his senses.
Hood: Maybe...I wouldn't mind seeing Paras shot, to be honest.
Smith: Hood!
Hood: Then again...he'd probably kick out at 2 and 3/4 anyway
Smith: What a terrible thing to say. Cyanide is back in action tonight against his two best friends in a Texas Death Match. That's our semi-main event. Up next we have Kitty Petrova taking on Logan. The winner gets a Savage Title shot at our next PPV event! Let's head out to Gruene Hall!
Savage #1 Contenders Match
Savage Rules
Kitty Petrova (8-1) vs. Logan (3-1)
~We return BACK to the scene of the crime! Or, well, Gruene Hall to be more exact. The place seems in better shape than when we previously left it. The OCW crew has done a top-notch job in ensuring a well prepared set up for what’s to come. The fans outside Gruene Hall all seem huddled around the various kegs, filling their OCW signature RED solo cups up to the tip-top with, probably, low level booze. Belvedere’s voice echoes throughout the atmosphere, providing some much needed action for these fairly inebriated souls~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a SAVAGE RULES match and it is scheduled for one fall! The winner of this contest will receive a Savage Championship Match at the next PPV event! Introducing first…
~"Treachery" by Bleach hits. The crowd starts to boo, at first…but once they switch ‘auto pilot fandom’ off, they calm and wait. Logan marches his way through the crowd outside Gruene Hall with a very stern and serious look on his face. The man can be comical…he can have fun, but tonight it’s all business. He marches through the entrance…the two security guards not wanting to get in his way. He hops over the guardrail, hustles up the steps and enters into the ring~
Belvedere: From Chesapeake, Virginia…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 250lbs…Logan!!!
Smith: Logan earned this spot by defeating Mario Maurako two weeks ago at Massacre.
Hood: Yep, defeating a legend will get you a big push around here.
Smith: As it should.
Hood: But, he’s got to face the craziest crazy bitch in professional wrestling…the PSYCHO Kitty Petrova
Smith: She has been dealing with some mental issues as of late.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"I Am The Fire" by Halestorm hits! The crowd starts to cheer given the veteran and familiar nature of the former Paradigm Champion…but they are quickly reminded of her NEW attitude…not that she was every pleasant, but lately she’s been downright CATTY (purposeful misspelling for punny purposes). Kitty blows past the fans, shoving them left and right. She’s got a team of OCW security members following her, well aware that her attitude could land her in hot water while immersed amongst a bunch of inebriated OCW fans. She shoves the duo manning the entrance aside, creating a clear path toward the ring. She reaches the guardrail and pauses, staring into the ring at Logan. Logan motions for her to ‘come on.’ Kitty scowls, placing her right foot atop the guardrail…she lifts up, stepping over the guardrail, into the ringside area. She begins pacing around the ring, prolonging her entry~
Belvedere: From Napa Valley, California…standing 5’6 ½ and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former OCW Paradigm Champion…she is Kitty Petrova!!!
~Kitty remains on the outside, pacing. Logan repositions his stance, constantly, keeping Petrova in front of him. We hear the bell sound…a strong ovation follows. Kitty, however, refuses to enter the ring. She’s walking, thinking, contemplating…strategizing…who knows…we’re just sure it’s more than some arbitrary act~
Smith: Kitty hasn’t been the same since Hayley took that Paradigm Title away from her.
Hood: I don’t think anybody’s been the same since that night, Smith. Little did we know we were watching an idiot granted power.
Smith: Sadly, Hayley’s reign lasted two weeks.
Hood: There are 18 year olds on prom night who last longer than her fucking title reign, man!
~Logan takes a seat across a middle rope, with Kitty rounding a corner. He offers her safe passage, hopeful she’ll take him up on the offer and enter the ring. Kitty continues walking, casting a sideways glace at Logan. She walks right past the rising star. He sighs and stands upright, following the pacing Kitty~
Smith: Logan seems ready to get this going.
Hood: Now is NOT the time for Kitty to get her steps in. She should have done that earlier in the day.
Smith: If I had to guess…I’d say she’s trying to expose Logan’s impatience.
Hood: She’s about to expose my fucking impatience if she doesn’t get in that fucking ring!
~Logan, beginning to display said impatience, heads over and throws a kick through the ropes, at Kitty’s head. Kitty pauses and looks directly at Logan. Logan yells “Come on!” Again, he sits atop the middle rope, more aggressively than before, waving his hand into the ring. Kitty heads up the ring steps~
Smith: Is she going to take him up on his offer?
Hood: What woman could resist Logan?
Smith: Many
Hood: Don’t be jelly, bro.
~Kitty pauses, looking at Logan and the opening his ass crack has created. She flashes a smile…it looks less than genuine. She moves forward…but suddenly kicks her right foot at the rope. Logan hops off the ropes just in time, perhaps anticipating some sort of foul play. He throws a lariat at Kitty. Petrova ducks, grabs Logan by the head, hops off the apron and bends Logan’s neck across the top rope. Logan stumbles forward. Kitty digs underneath the ring…she finds a steel chair. She slides it into the ring before rolling in. Logan turns around, holding the back of his neck. Petrova, on her knees, reaches for the chair. Logan’s foot stomps on the chair, preventing Kitty from securing it. Kitty low blows Logan with her right arm!! Logan stumbles backward. Kitty picks the chair up and SLAMS it across Logan’s back!! Logan arches his back, stumbling into the ropes. Kitty holds the chair with both hands, charges forward and throws the chair at Logan’s face!! It SMACKS Logan in the face…he flips over the top rope, slamming into the apron before bouncing off and onto the outside surface. Kitty steps through the ropes, onto the apron~
Smith: And we’re off!
Hood: Going straight for the weapons and cock shots.
Smith: Kitty is, apparently, eager to let everyone at home watching know, right off that bat, that this is a SAVAGE rules match.
Hood: It’s been her mentality since losing to Hayley. She wants to hurt people, Smith. And as for Logan, well, he’s a fucking sadist to begin with so…
~Kitty hops off the apron. She locates the previously used chair. Logan sits up, shaking his head. Kitty stands back, waiting for Logan to stand and face her. He reaches his feet and turns…Kitty throws a huge chair shot at his head. Logan reaches up, catching the chair with his hands. His core strength is too much for Kitty. He rips the chair from her hands. He kicks her in the gut and swings the chair at the back of her head…Kitty rolls forward. Logan slams the chair into the floor, nearly bending the damn thing at a 90 degree angle. He looks at the mangled chair and throws it into the crowd as far as he can. He turns and round house kick from Kitty!! He stumbles into the metal guardrail. Kitty charges forward, drilling Logan in the sternum with a knee. She grabs Logan by the head, leaps forward and slams him face first into the floor with a bulldog!! Logan remains face down…Kitty sits up, wincing and reaching for her tailbone~
Smith: There's SOME padding out there, but not much.
Hood: Fuckin drama queen. “Oh, ouch, my ass hurts!” How do you think Logan’s face feels? GET OVER YOURSELF
Smith: Calm down, Hood.
Hood: I need another fucking drink. It’s hot up here!
~Kitty gets to her feet…she lifts each leg, stretching her aching tailbone out. Logan pushes up, we see his face…his nose is bloodied. He’s got a cloudy look in his eyes…it begins to focus…he reaches up, feeling his nose…it’s sensitive to the touch. He smiles. Kitty heads for the ring, searching underneath for another weapon. Logan and his bloodied nose rises~
Smith: That man is sick. SICK
Hood: I don’t know man…a guy who derives pleasure via pain getting into a combat sport seems kinda genius, to me.
Smith: How anybody could derive pleasure from pain is beyond me. It’s unnatural!
Hood: Not as unnatural as Alice Knight’s popularity!
~Kitty emerges with a fire extinguisher!! The fans pop! She turns around to find Logan standing over her. She tries to raise the extinguisher, but Logan blocks it. He slaps Kitty across the face, hard. He brings the hand back, bitch slapping Kitty. Both of Petrova’s cheeks are red from impact. He wraps his hand around her throat, choking the life from Kitty’s lungs. Kitty tries to use the extinguisher. It starts to go off…Logan, using his right hand, covers the opening. It takes most of the form changing CO2. He tries to act like it doesn’t hurt…but he finally yells out, removing his hand and walking away. Kitty follows him, extinguisher in tow. We try to get a look at Logan’s right hand…it’s red, white, and irritated…hard to assess the damage at this point. Kitty runs up from behind and SLAMS the extinguisher into his back. He drops to one knee. Kitty throws the extinguisher aside…she lunges forward with BITCH KICK!! Logan falls to his side…his arms go limp. Kitty dives on top of Logan. Gruff grumbles while exiting the ring…he makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Kick out by Logan! He’s still alive in this one…although you have to wonder about that hand.
Hood: I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hand take that much of a fire extinguisher…I mean, who has…not like it’s a common fucking occurrence.
Smith: At the very least we’re looking at some extensive aesthetic damage. Broken, cracked skin…tremendous pain.
Hood: Well, if that’s the case…Logan’s going to be the happiest guy in Gruene Hall!
~Logan tries sitting up…his nose is bleeding worse than before. His right hand looks increasingly irritated…blood appears to be leaking through a number of small cracks. He rolls onto his side. Kitty reaches across Logan’s body, grabbing at his nose. She squeezes! Logan doesn’t make a sound…his muscles tighten, his eyes shut…it’s clear this hurts. He reaches under the ring with his left hand…he locates something. We hear a ‘snap’…he pulls his hand out, revealing a soda can. He flings the opened can at Kitty…she gets hit in the eye by the carbonated beverage…forcing her to stand and stumble backward. Logan uses the ring apron for support in reaching his feet. He looks down at the soda…it’s green…the liquid is white. He smiles…he slowly twists it around to see that it’s SPRITE. He frowns with disgust and throws the can as far as he can~
Smith: Must be a 7UP fan.
Hood: I knew I liked the guy.
Smith: I honestly can’t tell a difference.
Hood: Sounds like you worship Satan.
~Logan rushes toward Kitty with a lariat. She ducks. Logan leans over the guardrail…Kitty digs her nails into his back and pulls down, clawing at his exposed skin!! Logan reacts violently, arching his back and spinning around. Kitty slashes Logan across the chest with a knife edged chop, producing a dark, red scratch. She prepares for another chop…but Logan, saying ‘fuck it’ dives in and head butts the shit out of Kitty’s face!!! She staggers. He picks her up and throws her via some ugly ass hip toss over the guard rail and into the fans. The people scatter…Kitty hits the wood surface HARD!!! Logan leans over the guardrail…we see blood leaking out of his back. His right hand is covered in blood…his nose is red and bleeding. Dude’s a mess~
Smith: Logan with momentary control of this match.
Hood: Momentary? Shitting all over Logan once again!
Smith: I say momentary because…well, he’s in bad shape.
Hood: No way, bro…fucker is just getting started.
~Logan steps over the guardrail…fans, showing a decent amount of self-awareness, keep their distance. Gruff watches on, really hoping he doesn’t have to climb over the guard rail. Logan pulls Kitty up. She throws a palm strike…he dodges and dives in with another head butt!! It makes a loud “THUNK” Kitty wobbles. Logan looks down at his blood soaked right hand…it’s cracked, bleeding and an overall mess. He rears back and delivers a HUGE knife edged chop to Kitty’s chest. Blood flies everywhere! Fans scream and run. Logan delivers another one…the same result. Kitty’s chest looks like the victim of a heavily caffeinated abstract artist who specializes in red. Logan takes his hand, he raises it up and brings it down with an open handed slap into Kitty’s chest!! The former Paradigm Champion falls to her knees, gasping for air. Her chest is coated with blood. The surrounding fans all have splotches of blood on their clothing…there’s stains of blood on the wood floor~
Smith: That hand of Logan’s is a mess.
Hood: It’s like a giant paint brush, man!
Smith: Utterly macabre way of describing it.
Hood: I don’t know…I felt it was rather sunny. A lot better than calling it a giant, used tamp –
Smith: THAT’S ENOUGH
~Logan, in one swift, violent motion, grabs Kitty’s head and snaps back with a DDT! Her forehead CLUNKS against the wooden floor. Logan sits up. He spots a female nearby wearing a ‘I SUPPORT MENTAL HEALTH! I SUPPORT LILITH!’ shirt. Logan reaches up and RIPS the shirt off the woman’s body revealing a slightly above average physique. She quickly covers her bra and runs away screaming. Logan takes the shirt and wraps it around his right hand for protective purposes. He stands and grabs Kitty’s ponytail with his left hand, dragging her along the wooden floor as though she were a corpse. He reaches the guardrail. The fans look on, slightly concerned over Kitty’s wellbeing~
Smith: There’s just something about the way Logan handles people…it’s very disturbing.
Hood: Yea, if you call WINNING disturbing!
Smith: He hasn’t won yet, Hood.
Hood: Tis only a matter of time, my good man!
~Logan pulls Kitty up and tosses her over his shoulders. He sits atop the guardrail, his back pointing toward the ring. He leans backward and freefalls over with a unique SAMOAN DROP!! Kitty’s body breaks his fall! He squashes her into the flooring outside the ring. He rolls backward, coming to his knees after releasing Kitty upon impact. He stands and looks down at the former Paradigm Champion. She isn’t moving. He decides to make a cover. Gruff, in position for once, makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Kitty’s alive!
Hood: Don’t tell me she’s got the nine lives gimmick going…
Smith: I think nine lives are a myth.
Hood: You ever tried getting rid of a cat? Trust me, they have AT LEAST nine fucking lives.
~Logan rises, a bit perturbed, possibly annoyed over Kitty’s refusal to stay down. He yanks her to her feet and tosses her like a bag of garbage into the ring steps. She shoulders into the steps pretty hard…slinking down into a seated posture, back against the metal. Logan measures her up and runs forward, throwing a knee at Kitty’s face. Kitty moves! Logan’s knee SLAMS into the steps!!! He leans forward, wincing…a look on his face that shows more frustration than pain~
Smith: Kitty with the wherewithal to dodge a knee that would have most likely ended this match!
Hood: And now Logan’s got a busted knee!! What the fuck, man…we just gonna destroy every inch of this dude’s body?
Smith: You want success here in OCW…you gotta pay the price.
Hood: Yes…a fact Farthington knows all too well.
Smith: That’s not the kinda price I was referencing.
~A wounded Kitty makes it to her feet. She’s fighting through the pain under the realization that now’s the time to strike. She rushes forward, leaping onto Logan’s back, looking for a Backstabber. Logan grabs hold of Kitty with his left hand! He stands upright and turns around…he yanks Kitty over his shoulder, eyeing a powerslam. Kitty wiggles…she gets free, she flips over and pops Logan with a stunner!! Logan falters back against the ring apron. Kitty crawls for the guard rail, using it to get to her feet. An angered Logan runs, wildly at Petrova. Kitty jumps and greets him with a knee to the face!! It results in a loud ‘SMACK’ followed by a cloud of red mist!! Logan shakes his head…he snorts…we see spurts of blood hit the outside floor. Kitty runs up, grabs Logan and takes him down, swiftly with Ego Trip!! She makes the cover!! Gruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Another kick out by Logan!
Hood: HEY! What’s the name of that move again?
Smith: E…Ego Trip.
Hood: Oh man I’m so seeing LIME right now…she ripped MEYHU off!
~Kitty sits up, holding her head. A big, red welt is forming on her forehead from the earlier DDT. No doubt a similar pain is beginning to creep up inside her head…the very pain that helped cost her the OCW Paradigm Champion weeks prior. This pain makes her angry. She grabs at her head, talking to herself…the conversation isn’t a pleasant one. She rises and kicks at the guardrail. Logan, meanwhile, is seated up…the bottom of his nose down to his chin is covered in blood. He doesn’t really seem to mind all that much. He stands. He reaches for Kitty, spinning her around. Kitty throws a kick at Logan’s head…Logan dodges the kick and hoists Kitty up~
Smith: A powerbomb?
Hood: Drive her into the ground, Logan!
~Logan is, indeed, looking for a powerbomb. Kitty, however, grabs Logan’s nose!! This creates some static in Logan’s otherwise fluid moveset. Kitty wraps her legs around Logan’s head…she falls back and tosses him over with a Frankensteiner!!! Logan pops back to his feet…instinctively…once on his feet, he’s less than stable. Kitty, back on her feet, faces Logan…she leaps up and throws him back over with an inverted frankensteiner!!! Logan stays down this time!! The fans pop for the back to back moves…Kitty crawls over…she rolls Logan onto his back and makes the cover~
1!
2!
3…NO! Shoulder Up!
Smith: Logan survives!
Hood: I believe this guy could survive a nuclear attack. He’d most likely relish the pain.
Smith: That’s impossible…didn’t you see Chernobyl?
Hood: What’s a Chernobyl? Some type of rodent?
Smith: Never mind
~Kitty seems frustrated. She looks at the steel steps. An idea permeates her throbbing cranium. She grabs Logan and drags him toward the steps, resting his head top the steel. She slides into the ring and climbs the corner. She reaches the top and looks down. She leaps into the air, bringing her knees to her chest looking for a double foot stomp. Logan moves!! Kitty’s feet SLAM into the steps!!! She falls sideways, off the steps, reaching for her legs, wincing in pain. Logan is laid out over the steps, looking up at the wooden ceiling of Gruene Hall. It’s hot in there…he’s covered in blood and sweat…but, his head remains intact~
Smith: Kitty was looking to put Logan away.
Hood: SHE TRIED TO KILL HIM
Smith: Calm down.
Hood: THAT WAS ATTEMPTED MURDER
~Logan sits up…he’s on the bottom step. He looks over to find Kitty holding her legs in pain. He chuckles. His hand reaches up, rubbing his fucked up nose. He looks at the blood and wipes it across the ‘clean’ side of his face. Fans at ringside frown. This man disgusts them. He stands and heads over toward Kitty. She sees Logan standing over her. She tries to stand but her legs spasm…the muscles are still in shock. Logan grabs her legs, spotting their vulnerability. He moves in a ‘no fucking around’ manner. He locks in a Figure Four!!! Kitty yells out in pain! Logan glares at her with a smile on his face. He’s propped on his elbows enjoying the view, watching Kitty writhe in pain~
Smith: What a sick, sick individual. He’s enjoying this!
Hood: Well? Who doesn’t like WINNING
Smith: This goes beyond winning, Hood. This is a man enjoying…getting off on another’s pain!
Hood: Hey we all have our hobbies, Smith. Who am I to judge?
Smith: HOBBIES?!
~Kitty pulls at her hair. She reaches for her legs. She tries to turn Logan over, but can’t. The pain appears to be near unbearable. She falls back, staring at the ceiling. Gruff drops down, making a count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!
Smith: Kitty has got to be careful. She could easily be pinned in this situation.
Hood: Just give it up, Kitty. Go back to fighting women…it’s what you’re good at…oh, wait a minute.
Smith: RUDE
~Kitty is in a terrible spot. Logan’s trying to destroy her legs. Her head is pounding. She’s trapped. The pain threshold has got to be bending, about to break. She lowers her head…is she passing out? Logan’s face contorts as he applies more pressure, trying to END Petrova. Kitty’s head looks up…she’s not out! She begins to laugh. Logan seems confused…nonplussed, even. Kitty’s laughter grows and grows. Logan is bothered. WHY IS SHE LAUGHING?~
Smith: Kitty’s losing it!
Hood: Bitch is crazy!
Smith: The loss to Hayley…this match…the pain…she might be broken, Hood.
Hood: No wonder Mike ditched her ass. She’s fifty shades of psycho!
~Logan is PISSED. He releases the hold. He crawls over and begins to choke Kitty! He leans in, talking shit. Kitty leans forward and BITES his nose!!! Logan yells out! He releases her throat. He jams a thumb into her eye! She lets go of his nose. He falls back against the guardrail, covering his fucked up nose. Kitty sits up…she rolls over and crawls toward him. Logan rises…now he’s got a “WTF” look on his face. He side steps the crawling Kitty and dives under the ring, looking for a weapon. Kitty reaches the guardrail and uses it to stand…her legs are hurt…they are wobbly, but she’s going to tough it out~
Smith: If this is what it takes to get a SHOT at the Savage Title…no thanks.
Hood: Oh relax, quit being so squeamish. This is way more tolerable than all that Alice Knight bullshit.
Smith: I whole heartedly disagree. WHOLE HEARTEDLY.
~Logan pulls out a steel chair. He pops to his feet and swings it at Kitty. She drops to her knees to avoid the blow. The steel chair SLAMS into the guardrail. Kitty DRILLS Logan with a low blow!!! Petrova returns to her feet and yanks the chair from Logan. She CRACKS it over his back!! Logan arches his back in pain. Kitty RAMS The top of the chair into his stomach…he doubles over and turns around, facing the ring. He rolls in. Kitty tosses the chair into the ring and slides in behind Logan…her legs seem to be recovering. Gruff climbs in, begrudgingly. Kitty picks up the chair. Logan struggles to his feet. She smacks him in the back with the chair. He stumbles into the corner, front first, leaning into the buckles. Kitty works her legs back and forth…they seem to be okay. She charges at Logan, jumps into the air, places the chair under her feet and kicks it into Logan’s back!! He falls over, wincing in pain. Kitty holds her legs…the impact of that move just about erased all the recovery. However, she manages to claw her way over to Logan, covering the injured competitor. Gruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Logan survives!
Hood: Steel chairs may be a thing of the past for Logan.
Smith: You bring a weapon into play you do so with the knowledge that it can be used against you.
Hood: Sort of like bringing up facts while arguing with a woman.
Smith: Enough of your sexist remarks!
~Kitty struggles to her feet, her legs aren’t holding up so well. But, her pain tolerance is at an all-time high so she’s going to work through the pain and deal with the damage later. She pulls Logan up. A long trail of blood sticking from the mat to his nose follows him. Kitty slashes through it with her hand, purposely ridding us of the image. He delivers a backhand across Logan’s face. He wobbles…teeters. She delivers a HUGE knife edged chop. Logan just about topples over. Kitty steps back and lunges forward with BITCH KICK. But Logan ducks!! He reaches out and grabs Kitty, locking in a sleeper~
Smith: He’s looking for The Connector!
Hood: Oh shit!
Smith: Kitty needs to escape that sleeper!
~Kitty throws her head back, smacking Logan in the nose! He releases the hold. Kitty turns around and blows Logan a kiss. He stands up like “The hell?” She drills him with a forearm uppercut!! Sweat and blood fill the air. Kitty charges for the ropes~
Smith: She’s going for Kiss of Death!
Hood: Wake up, Logan! She’s not trying to fuck you…she’s trying to fuck you!
~She leaps up, looking to springboard off the ropes…but her knees…legs…they give out!!! She drops back to the mat, limping severely. She turns around…Logan lunges for her like he wants to hit Sling Blade…instead, he wraps a sleeper before jumping over and DROPPING Kitty with The Connector!!! Kitty’s body snaps forward and then backward in a violent motion! Logan’s beaten and bloodied face crawls over, making the cover. Gruff counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender for the Savage Championship…LOGAN!!!!!
Smith: He pulled it off!
Hood: Hell yea! The star continues to rise!
Smith: Logan has defeated Mario Maurako and now Kitty Petrova in the span of three weeks!
Hood: Logan is so hot right now.
Smith: His nose is…well, it’s a lot of things and none of them are good. But, I’m sure he doesn’t care because he has guaranteed himself a spot on the next PPV where he will challenge for the Savage Championship!
Hood: Welcome to the big boy’s table, Logan. Thank you for ridding us of Kitty.
Smith: Kitty fought hard but those legs just gave out at the worst time.
Hood: First her head…now her legs. Kitty’s had a rough month.
Smith: Indeed but I have no doubt she’ll bounce back. She’s still one of the best wrestlers on the roster.
Smith: Before we go any further with tonight’s event, we have a video package to show everyone!
Hood: A video package? Whatever this is about can’t have been done in person?
Smith: I guess we’ll have to watch it and find out!
Hood: Pfft, I’m going to have a power nap. Wake me up if it’s important.
Smith: Your loss!
~The video package begins as the audience is shown the inside of a prison. The back of a prisoner, in grey clothes, with the number 4815 shown, is handcuffed and being escorted to his cell. The cellmates on both levels are howling for the arrival of this particular prisoner.~
Guard #1: SHUT YOUR FACES!
~Some of the howling die downs but a few are persistent. The prisoner and guards finally make their destination, cell 16, with another prisoner in it. The prisoner is giggling uncontrollably, causing another guard to hit the cell with his baton.~
Guard #2: Prisoner #2345, get yourself to the wall, hands in the air!
~The prisoner still giggles, but obeys the command without question. The two prisoners catch eye to eye, as prisoner 2345 reveals to have third degree burns on his face, before facing the wall, hands up. The guards escort prisoner 4815 into his cell, unlock his handcuffs in the process. A third guard who enters into view places a single folded sheet and pillow onto the top bunk. Guards two and three leave as the first turns to 4815.~
Guard #1: You’ve got five minutes.
~4815 slips the guard what is probably is last hundred dollar bill and gives it to the guard. The man filming with the camera is now on the other side of the bars. Prisoner 4815 turns around to face the camera, revealing himself to be OCW Hall of Famer, the Incredible One. His beard is gone, as per the prison rules, and his hair is down to a short buzz. The audience at Schlitterbahn Waterpark give out a heavily mixed reaction to the former OCW Champion behind bars, some cheering for their hero, some booing who never converted, and others quickly begin debating his current predicament.~
Smith: HOOD WAKE UP!
Hood: What... *yawn* is it an orgy?
Smith: It’s TIO!
Hood: WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY IT SOONER YOU ASS?!
~TIO grips his hands on the bars, feeling the cold metal, before looking into the camera as in zooms into his face.~
TIO: I only have five minutes, so I’m going to make this short and sweet. This’ll be my final contact to the outside world until I am out of here. I don’t know exactly when that will be. It could be anywhere from three months if I can get out on good behavior, or, a year if I’m unlucky. I had to let you, the OCW fans, and everyone in the OCW locker room know something before I went away for good. At the beginning of this new OCW venture, way back in the spring of 2018, I was the face of this company. I was OCW Champion. A year has gone by now, and I had one of the worst years of my life. I was trying to piece it back together, by taking out Mike Best, win the HOW tournament I was scheduled for, and the Block Party tournament. All of that went into the shitter when Best and the eMpire took me out. I don’t think I’ve ever been more beaten down in my entire career then when they destroyed me on Massacre, flew me in their jet to HOW and continued the assault in the air and at the HOW tournament. Then my personal life caught up to me and here I am.
~TIO grinds his teeth, tightening his grip on the bars, and he begins to try and shake them with loaded rage, but they don’t budge. He slams his palms against the bars before trying to fit his whole face between the bars. His face appears manic, as TIO shouts into the camera.~
TIO: This is a warning to the eMpire. Best, Maurako, Farthington. Whoever is in the group now. This is your only warning, because when I show back up, it’ll be out of nowhere. I told myself for a long time I was done with wars, I was done with making everything personal. But you took me out – and now I have a sour taste in my mouth. I’m going to take that sour taste, the thoughts of the things you did to me in that plane, and let it manifest for however long I’m here, I’m going to train, EVERYDAY! You three, and everyone else, will see a side of me you’ve never seen before. Get ready for—
~The sound of a toilet flushing is heard as TIO stops, and looks around to see the other prisoner finishing up his business. He washes his hands and giggles again.TIO lets out a cry and kicks the prisoner right in the gut. He falls to the ground, without breath as TIO grabs him and throws him head first into the bars. Blood begins gushing from his head as a “FIGHT!” chant breaks out inside the prison. Guards come, shoving the camera man aside. They open the cell and begin to beat TIO with his batons.~
Guard: Solitary confinement in your first hour? Sounds like a record to me you idiot.
~The guard break up the fight. They take prisoner 2345 one way to the medical wing while TIO is dragged, resisting, to solitary. TIO continues to shout at the camera.~
TIO: Make no mistake eMpire, in three months, or a year, I’m going to be out – and when I’m out, I’m coming for you all – and it’s going to be WAR!
~TIO begins to laugh manically; almost identical to the prisoner he just beat up, as he is dragged out of view from the camera, his laughs echoing throughout the prison as the video package suddenly stops. The crowd, again mixed, is responding loudly to what they just witnessed.~
Hood: Holy shit.
Smith: Yes.
Hood: Even I have goose bumps.
Smith: TIO is going away for personal problems outside OCW, but he vows to go to war with the eMpire when he returns.
Hood: No one is going stop those guys. TIO’s got guts – but his eyes are bigger than his stomach.
Smith: I guess we’ll have to wait and see what time will tell!
Paradigm #1 Contenders Match
The Big Bifford (13-4) vs. Duce Jones (4-2)
~The TEXAS sun continues to beat down on the venue. Fans standing around the Laguna pool location constantly jump in and out of the water to stay cool. The ‘hot tub’ is flowing with VIP fans drinking beer and trying to chat up random, single looking women for some happy action fun time a little later on. Belvedere clears his throat, while standing in the ring to a HUGE ovation. These fans are ready for some more in-ring action~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is a continuation in the best of…however many matches OCW will allow this charade to go on! The winner of this contest will receive an OCW Paradigm Title shot at the next PPV! Introducing first…
Hood: Oh no
Smith: What?
Hood: They’re putting Bifford in the ring over the pool…
Smith: I’m sure…they have planned for that. I, hope.
~“Godspeed” by Don Trip hits. The fans go wild! A loud “DUCE!” chant invades the New Braunfels sky. Duce Jones makes his way through the crowd. Fans are slapping him on the back, shouting words of encouragement. “YOU CAN DO IT, DUCE!” “JUST BELIEVE IN YOURSELF, DUCE!” “YOU’RE SO MUCH BETTER THAN YOUR FATHER, DUCE!” Duce pauses, glaring at this fan. The fan realizes his verbal misstep, “NOT THAT HE WAS BAD OR ANYTHING…I WAS A HUGE KRAYZIE FAN! WOO! GO KRAYZIE!” Duce decides to let the man live. He stands at the precipice of the walkway, leading out to the ring. He takes an uneasy step…he finds the platform sturdy and walks with more confidence. He reaches the ring and slides in under the bottom rope, ready for action~
Belvedere: From Memphis, Tennessee…standing six feet tall and weighing in at 215lbs…Duce Jones!!!
Smith: Duce is looking to shut Bifford up.
Hood: Biff’s 2-0 against Duce. Rumor has it Biff’s goal is to reach 20-0.
Smith: That won’t happen.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Hood: Oh geez
Smith: Let’s hope that rampway can hold Bifford. If not…I don’t know what we’re going to do for the rest of the afternoon.
~“Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio hits. The surrounding fans boo!!! It’s fun to BOO the Big Bifford. The Earth shakes (not really)…as a giant, hulking mass of a man barrels his way through the fans. His MAGICAL FLEECE is in FULL FORCE, smiting the southern heat. Biff’s beard is magnificent…his long, thick, brown hair rustles elegantly along a smoldering Texas breeze. He reaches the walkway. EARL has something in his hands…it’s concealed via a black cloth. Biff asks for it. Earl is hesitant. Bifford DEMANDS Earl hand it over. Earl acquiesces, handing his boss…the item. Biff removes the cloth to reveal…THE MIGHTY SCYTHE!! Fans shriek with horror as Bifford twirls it around~
Smith: Get that away from him!
Hood: Why? That’s like his spirit animal…or spirit utensil…it’s his mascot!
Smith: It’s a lethal weapon that has NO place in a wrestling ring.
Hood: Meh, we’re in Texas. I’m sure it’s fine.
~Bifford appears ready to make the walk. Earl stops him! He motions toward a bunch of innertubes tied together…this slipshod arrangement floats near them…an obvious attempt to prevent Bifford from breaking the walkway. Biff eyes it. Earl hops on top to show how it works…it does look kind of comfortable. Biff contemplates his choice. Duce, in the ring, stays lose by running in place and bringing his knees to his chest, stretching out~
Smith: Earl attempting to preserve the ring entrance.
Hood: Yea…as nice as that temporary raft looks…it could dampen the Magical Fleece.
Smith: Oh heaven forbid anything happens to that fleece!
Hood: I know, right?
~Bifford nears the raft. Earl seems happy. The fans appear ready for Bifford to get the hell away from them. Bifford rears back and slings the MIGHTY SCYTHE forward! It slashes through the raft, creating a loud “POP” followed by squealing innertubes bouncing around without any sort of direction. Fans scream and run. Bifford looks down at Earl…Earl lowers his head. Bifford heads for the walkway. He takes one step…everyone watching holds their breath~
Smith: Please hold…please hold…please hold
Hood: Only way that shit holds is if Ed Houston procured some of that space metal from NASA.
Smith: You think?
Hood: No! NASA ran his ass off…why would they help him out?
~Bifford takes another step…his full weight is atop the ramp. Everyone watches intently…even Scruff. Duce looks ready for the match to start. Bifford starts to walk. The ramp shakes…it shivers…it seems to bend a bit…water rushes over from the sides as Bifford’s weight sinks the metal platform before pool level. Fans are anticipating a loud snap at any moment. Biff’s halfway there~
Smith: Whatever happens from this point forward…I must commend the manufacturers of that rampway. That’s some sturdy work.
Hood: Dude, it wants to break so bad.
Smith: Hang in there, walkway! Only a few more feet!
~Bifford nears the end. He pauses…the fans yell, “GET OFF THE WALKWAY!” Bifford has to pause right at the very edge…his full weight still on the walkway. He raises his arms up and does the ‘T! B! B!’ gesture. The fans scream…”MOVE!!!” The walkway trembles…we think we hear a crack. Bifford finally steps off the walkway with one foot and then the other. It is…preserved, for now. Bifford rolls his giant body into the ring, somehow keeping all of his flesh safe from the MIGHTY SCYTHE. He stands and points the Scythe at Duce~
Belvedere: From Phoenix, Arizona…standing 6’6 and weighing in at 488lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is in the OCW Hall of Fame. He is…The Big Bifford!
~Belvedere exits the ring. Before the bell can sound, Scruff tells Bifford to put his Scythe away. Bifford seems sad…he has very sad eyes. Scruff apologizes…but it must be done. Suddenly we hear a loud CRASH! Our view zooms to find Belvedere immersed in the pool! The fans are appalled!!~
Smith: He took one step to leave the ringside area and the walkway collapsed!
Hood: Oh no! Not Belvedere!
Smith: He…will not be happy.
~Belvedere’s head breaches the water. He looks ready to commit murder. Bifford extends the safe end of the Scythe, from the ring…Belvedere waves it off…he goes under and swims to the other side…may as well fully embrace the situation at this point. He pops out and pulls his soaked suit, hair, and stache out of the water. OCW personnel quickly cover him up and escort him to a location where he can get composed. Duce suddenly rushes forward with a knee into Biff’s back!! Biff drops the Scythe…it lands on the metal grating. Scruff signals for the bell…it rings and we are underway~
Smith: FINALLY
Hood: Oh, sure, ring the bell after Duce’s sneak attack…REAL fair
Smith: Bifford had a SCYTHE
Hood: So? He’d only use that thing against Dan…we all know that.
~Duce clobbers Biff in his LARGE back with forearm shots. He throws a few knees into Biff’s kidney region. He kicks Biff in the back of the knee…a flurry of offense meant to chop the big man down. Biff absorbs the blows, trying to turn around and face his attacker. He does. He reaches out, hoping to grab Duce…Duce ducks…Bifford stumbles toward the middle of the ring…Duce leans into the ropes, shoots off and slams Biff in the back of the head with a double ax handle!!! Bifford staggers around, shaking his head. The MAGICAL FLEECE doesn’t look AS magical. The fans are firmly behind Duce~
Smith: Duce is all over Bifford!
Hood: He’s acting like Biff stole his lunch money…you think Biff stole his lunch money?
Smith: I don’t think Duce carries lunch money.
Hood: Ah, yes…because Krayzie is so poor.
Smith: No…because Duce is a grown man.
~Duce finds a corner…he hops onto the second rope. Bifford is within striking distance. His back faces Duce…Duce leaps off with a front dropkick, drilling Bifford in the back!! Bifford staggers into the ropes, dropping to his knees, hanging over the middle rope. Duce, already back on his feet, rushes forward…he slings his legs through the ropes and hits Biff in the face with a 619!!! Bifford stands upright, stumbling back. Duce, on the apron, leaps up and springboards off the top…but Bifford catches Duce!! He sprints around and SLAMS Duce into the mat with a modified Spinebuster, placing almost all his weight onto Duce. Duce is down…the fans are quieted~
Smith: And therein lies the issue with facing Bifford.
Hood: Yes, he is big.
Smith: Duce is going to have to keep his distance from Bifford. He cannot let Bifford grab hold of him.
Hood: Little fucking late for that advice.
~Bifford flattens out, placing all his weight on Duce. Duce wiggles around, trying to get free. Scruff slaps the mat every time both of Duce’s shoulders touch the mat. Duce continues trying to get out from under Bifford, but can’t. His mass is too great. Duce manages to roll onto his stomach to prevent an accidental pin. He lays there, still, breathing heavily. Bifford remains on top of Duce like a beached whale. The fans begin to boo~
Smith: Is he going to move?
Hood: Quiet…he may be in deep contemplation.
Smith: No, he’s not. He’s trying to be a jerk to Duce.
Hood: Silence, Smith! The man may be about to solve some of Earth’s greatest mysteries…like is the planet round or flat!
~Duce struggles and pulls his body, squirming, finding some air out from under Bifford. He pulls and pulls…he’s trying to dig himself out from under MOUNT BIFF. His shoulders are clear…his midsection…he’s about to get his waist free when Biff decides to ROLL OVER!! The giant beast of a man rolls from his front to his back, nearly covering Duce’s entire body with a simple half rotation. Duce’s body nearly vanished and smothered underneath Biff’s giant mass AND HIS MAGICAL FLEECE…has seen better days. Scruff, shrugging, drops to a knee and asks Duce if he wants to give it up. We hear Duce’s voice sound out from underneath blubbery Biff, “FUCK OFF!” The crowd pops~
Smith: Bifford is making a mockery of this match. Of this entire event!
Hood: It’s Bifford. He carries a Scythe. He wears a fleece during the summer – in TEXAS. What were you expecting?
Smith: I…I don’t know.
Hood: Correct those expectations, and you might enjoy life a little bit more, Smith.
~Duce’s head emerges from under a flap of Biff’s loose flesh. Jones blows loose strands of fleece from his mouth. His face is covered in frustration and sweat. He gets an arm free and manages to work his body onto its side. He reaches up and grabs Biff by the nose!! He pulls back, trying to rip the nose off! The fans start off cheering…but after awhile are like “Ouch, that looks painful.” Duce yells out, pulling as hard as he can. Bifford winces…he finally capitulates and rolls off of Duce, covering his nose! Duce is free!! He struggles to his feet and nearly collapses in a corner, hunched over the top buckle gasping for air. His eyes catch the pool water…it looks SO inviting~
Smith: Finally! Catch some air, Duce…get your legs back under you!
Hood: Dude probably wants to dive into that water…it’s fresh and cool.
Smith: Yes, that pool is filled with natural, spring water. Very cold.
Hood: Makes me want to hop down this slide over here.
Smith: Don’t you dare…you will remain up here calling the action!
~Bifford rises…his nose is red and irritated. A few tiny streaks of blood start to leak out of the nostrils. Bifford slaps his giant belly and roars!! He charges at Duce. Duce turns around and smacks Biff in his beard with D-Trigga!!! Bifford is stunned! Duce nails him with forearm shots to the side of the head. Bifford leans into the ropes. Duce shoots him off. Bifford charges across the ring. Duce hits the opposite ropes…both men bounce off…Duce leaps into the air with a flying forearm…Biff catches him, spins around and drops Duce into the mat with a spinning slam!!! Duce arches his back in pain. Bifford tries to lay on him again…but this time Duce rolls out of the ring, to the metal grating on the outside~
Smith: Smart move by Duce…get out of there before that big bully can impose his girth.
Hood: You have to admire Bifford for his originality.
Smith: I don’t have to admire Bifford for ANYTHING.
Hood: And his bravery…he’s out here in a FLEECE, Smith. A FLEECE. He’s risking stroke, heart attack…West Nile Disease…he’s totally brave.
Smith: Shut up
~Bifford struggles to his feet. He stares over the ropes down, onto Duce. Duce plops down on the metal grating. He gets to his knees and dunks his head in the water. The pulls his head back and shakes the excess water free…the look on his face is “ahh, fuckin refreshing.” Bifford suddenly REMOVES HIS FLEECE!! He twirls around and slings his Fleece in the air like a lasso. Around his giant gut is the Splenda packet OCW Title. The fans pop! Duce returns to his feet and looks in the ring at the foolishness taking place. He rushes up the steps, seeing opportunity. He leaps onto the top buckle. Bifford continues to parade around, twirling his MAGICAL fleece while showing off his belt. Duce, perched atop the corner, leaps off with a crossbody. Bifford throws the MAGICAL FLEECE at Duce!! It hits Duce in the air!! Duce lands on his feet and struggles, removing the MAGICAL FLEECE. He finally does so, tossing it out of the ring…it hits the pool. Fans DIVE in, looking for a piece of OCW history. Duce, incensed over what’s taking place, turns around…he gets hit in the face with the Splenda Belt!!! A giant white cloud of smoke fills the air!! Duce coughs and stumbles around~
Smith: This is ridiculous. Can we get some order in there…ORDER PLEASE.
Hood: What are you talking about? Some lucky fan is going home with a new king-sized bedspread.
Smith: I’d BURN that if I wound up with it.
Hood: It’s the MAGICAL fleece. It cannot burn.
~Bifford looks to hit Duce with his Splenda belt once again. Duce kicks Biff in the knee! Biff is stunned. Duce rips the belt away and throws it in the same direction as the MAGICAL fleece. It hits the water…it’s manufactured sweetness improving the water’s taste. All the fans swimming for the MAGICAL FLEECE begin to drink the water. Back in the ring, Bifford’s eyes become full of rage and fury…his toys have been removed. He reaches for Duce…Duce ducks and hits the ropes. Bifford turns around and eats a dropkick!! He stumbles back into the ropes…he falls…his weight forces his arms to get tied into the ropes. Duce looks around…the fans rise~
Smith: This happened to Biff in the Block Party tournament! Duce remembers!
Hood: Now, THIS isn’t fair. Get him out of those ropes, Scruff!
Smith: I think it’d take all three of OCW’s licensed referees to complete that chore.
~Duce hits the ropes…he bounces off and charges at Biff. But, Bifford is ready…he sticks his giant foot out, smacking Duce in the face!!! Duce spins around, dropping to a knee. Bifford RIPS HIS ARMS free from the ropes. He rises to his feet like a mammoth awakened from its icy prison. He charges forward, leaps into the air and drops on top of Duce with a splash!!! Duce is flattened out on the mat. Bifford rolls him over, going for the pin. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Duce shoulders up!
Hood: Call Bifford fat. Call him strange. But don’t ever call him stupid…he remembered the rope spot and was ready.
Smith: Yes, yes, …he may be…unique. But he is no idiot.
~Bifford rises. He leaps up and drops a large elbow across Duce’s chest. He slowly returns to his feet, considering a second elbow. Instead, he decides to point and laugh at Duce. The fans BOOOOO. Bifford enjoys a hearty laugh…his smile turns into a disgusted frown as he performs the THROAT SLIT gesture. He heads for the ropes, climbing through them..his gut struggling against the middle rope. He reaches the apron and carefully drops to the metal grating. At his feet sits…THE MIGHTY SCYTHE!! The fans scream in horror…well, aside from those enjoying themselves. We spot the fans in the Splenda filled water enjoying cups filled with this sweetened elixir…they also seem to be pouring contraband into these cups, Rum, perhaps. Bifford lifts up the MIGHTY SCYTHE. Scruff yells out from the ring, “NO, BIFF!” Biff yells back, “YES!” Scruff waves his hands, “I SAID NO!” Bifford replies, “PLEASE!” Biff’s eyes become childlike as he hopes to win Scruff over. Scruff shakes his head, ‘no.’~
Smith: Why are we even having this discussion. Let’s get some LOCAL authorities down there to remove the lethal weapon.
Hood: Oh, come on…he already lost his belt and his MAGICAL fleece. Let the man have his scythe.
Smith: He could KILL somebody with that thing, Hood!
Hood: It’s only DUCE
Smith: You have no heart.
~Duce shoves Scruff aside. He sees Bifford with the MIGHTY SCYTHE…there’s a ‘fuck it’ look in his eyes. He takes off…he hits the ropes. Fans watch with bated breath. Duce charges forward…he leaps up, onto the top rope…he springboards high into the air…he comes down toward Biff. Bifford drops the MIGHTY scythe! Duce lands on Bifford’s shoulders…he tries for a hurricanrana to throw Biff into the pool. Bifford spins around…he nearly tumbles…his weight and strength prevail! He hoists Duce up, spins around again and drives him toward the apron with a powerbomb!! But Duce turns it into a facebuster!!! Bifford’s face SLAMS into the apron!!! He remains standing, face down on the apron. Duce rolls back into the ring, through the middle and bottom ropes. He pops back to his feet…he takes off, hits the ropes, springs forward and drills BIfford in the face with a baseball slide dropkick!!! Bifford’s body drops to his knees before tumbles onto its back, testing the strength of the metal grating. Duce nips up!!! The fans chant “DUCE! DUCE! DUCE!”~
Smith: Bifford is down…Duce is rolling!
Hood: But the MIGHTY Scythe remains in play!
Smith: Ugh…can we get that weapon REMOVED from ringside…PLEASE
~Scruff yells “ONE!” Duce marches around the ring, fired up! A ‘KRAYZIE’ chant fills the New Braunfels sky! These fans are paying homage and respect for Duce’s father. The chant is not lost on Duce, who seems humbled and appreciative of the fans rememberance of his (STILL ALIVE) father. Scruff yells “TWO!” Duce looks on from within the ring…Bifford is down, on the metal grating. He looks quite peaceful. You’d think he was a nice man enjoying an innocent slumber if it weren’t for the fucking scythe laying next to him~
Smith: It appears Duce might win this via count out!
Hood: Not the way he’d like to win it but, hey, you take wins over Hall of Famers however you can get them.
Smith: Even if Duce wanted to win this in the ring, I’m not sure he could get Bifford back in there.
Hood: Bifford is a man of impressive girth.
Smith: I’m not sure impressive is the word I’d use.
~Scruff yells “THREE!” Biff remains in peaceful, subconscious abyss. Duce appears a bit torn but, like Smith said, he doesn’t the math…he knows the score. He’d likely be unable to pull Biff back in before the ten count. Scruff yells “FOUR!” Duce continues pacing…the competitive energy is potent within this man’s veins~
Smith: If Biff nips up then I’m done. I will quit this company.
Hood: Why?
Smith: Because that would be ridiculous.
Hood: More ridiculous than The Proctologist?
Smith: There is nothing ridiculous about a man working to prevent colon cancer!
~Scruff yells “FIVE!” The crowd gets a ‘DUCE!’ chant going again. They are trying to keep themselves occupied while waiting to see if Duce wins via count out. Scruff yells “SIX!” Duce is sitting in a corner, anxiously awaiting the outcome. Scruff yells “SEVEN!”~
Smith: We’re three seconds away from Duce…sorta avenging those losses to Biff!
Hood: A count out is like a tie and a tie is like kissing your sister. Are we to assume Duce is from Alabama?
Smith: He’s from Tennessee!
Hood: Ah, how apropos that the man from Tennessee is trying to win via countout. It’s the only he he wants to see!
Smith: Please, just stop talking.
~Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Biffod’s eyes shoot open! He sits up. Duce marches out of the corner, intrigued over this latest development. Scruff hesitates…Bifford’s suddenly AWAKENING has him thrown. You’d think, after all these years… Bifford struggles to his feet. Scruff yells “NINE!”~
Smith: How’s he going to get into the ring? I don’t like to shame anybody’s physical stature but…I mean
Hood: You calling Bifford fat?
Smith: Physically it might be impossible for him to get in there in a second!
~Bifford has the MIGHTY SCYTHE. He slashes the Scythe forward, severing the bottom rope!! He slides into the ring JUST BEFORE TEN!! Scruff drops to a knee, picking up the severed rope, looking at it. Duce has his arms out like “What the hell?” Bifford spins around, twilring the MIGHTY scythe. He slashes it at Duce!!! Duce ducks. His ‘what the hell’ goes to ‘what the fuck’ real quick. His eyes enlarge…this suddenly got very, very dangerous. Scruff’s back is to the action as he continues to survey the rope. Duce hits the ropes…the top two ropes are still functional. He charges at Biff. Biff swings the MIGHTY SCYTHE at Duce…Duce ducks. He hits the ropes…he jumps onto the middle rope looking to springboard. Biff starts to turn around…the fans in attendance hold their breath. Duck leaps off, spins through the air and DRILLS Biff in the face with a knee!! Biff drops his Mighty Scythe! Duce grabs the MIGHTY SCYTHE and chucks it into the pool water. The blood curdling screams of an unidentified sound out. The POV remains on the in-ring action refusing to cut to whatever just happened – which, is probably for the best. Duce hits Bifford in the face with D-Trigga!!! Biff drops to one knee. Duce cracks him in the face with another knee…then another! Bifford is reeling. Duce hits the ropes, he bounces off plants Biff face down into the mat with a half hurricanrana!!! The big man collapses onto his back. Duce hops on Biff for the pin. He slaps the mat, finally snaring Scruff’s attention. Scruff drops the severed rope and slides in~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: And Bifford survives!
Hood: Wish we could say the same thing about that fan.
Smith: Stay focused on the match!
~Duce appears frustrated over Scruff’s lack of awareness. Scruff returns to his feet and kicks the rope away from the action. Duce hangs back, waiting for Biff to get to his feet~
Smith: The tough thing about facing someone like Bifford is the inability to manipulate their weight. If you want to strike Biff you almost have to wait for him to recover.
Hood: So you’re saying obesity is strategy?
Smith: I’d never praise morbid obesity, Hood.
~Bifford slowly rises. You just can’t keep these Hall of Famers down. The bearded behemoth shakes the cobwebs from his warped brain. He turns. Duce charges forward looking for Krayzed Knee!!! But Bifford catches Duce!!! Duce is suddenly in the worst position possible…Bifford is trying to pull him down for The Biff End! Duce head butts Bifford. He bashes Bifford in the head with right hands. He elbows Biff near the nose, barely missing the bridge. Bifford stumbles and staggers but he’s determined to hang on. Duce leans in and BITES Biff on the head!! Duce is finally able to break free!! He flips over and looks to bring Biff down for a pin, kind of forgetting that Biff weighs six hundred pounds. Biff avoids being brought over with ease. He leaps into the air, looking to squash Duce’s chest. But Duce moves!!! Bifford hits the mat HARD! Duce pops back to his feet…he hits the ropes, comes off and knees Biff right in the face!!! Bifford flattens out!!! The fans are going crazy!! Duce hops on top of Bifford. Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!
NOOOO
Smith: WHAT?!
Hood: Shoulder up!
Smith: Oh come on!! Duce had him!
Hood: Bifford got the shoulder up!! All Hail KING BIFFORD
Smith: That’s Mario’s gimmick!
Hood: Only as long as Biff allows him to have it!
~Duce holds three fingers in Scruff’s face. Scruff responds with the very depressing peace sign…or, as we like to call it in wrestling “TWO”. Duce, on his knees, lowers his head. The fans urge him to fight on. Duce is growing frustrated, as any man against Biff would at this point. He reaches his feet. He stomps on Biff, showing more anger than focus. He kicks him over and over. Bifford rolls onto all fours before slowly rising against the kicks. He’s not BIFFING up or anything, he’s just slowly returning to his feet, looking like a man who has taken quite a bit of abuse. Duce grabs Bifford by the arm~
Smith: Duce is going to try to hit Duce of Clubs!
Hood: Is that his nickname down in Miami?
Smith: Huh?
Hood: I just figured he picked that up hopping clubs down on the beach.
~Duce yanks Bifford forward, looking to end it with his ripcord headbutt followed by a knee strike to the had. Biff, though, consumed Duce with a hug!! He tosses Duce over his head with an overhead belLy to belly throw. Duce lands on his feet!! The crowd goes wild. Bifford turns around…Duce charges forward and leaps into the air with KRAYZED KNEE. But Bifford ducks!!! Duce winds up landing on the second buckle, his back to Bifford. He spins around. Bifford does the same. Duce leaps off the second buckle with KRAYZED KNEE!!! Bifford catches Duce, he leaps into the air and drives Duce head first into the mat with THE BIFF END!!!! The entire place sighs with disappointment. Bifford holds on…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…and the #1 Contender to the Paradigm Championship…THE BIG BIFFORD!!!!!
Smith: Dang it!
Hood: Yes! Biff wins!
Smith: Bifford is trying to kill Duce’s career in OCW.
Hood: Fuck that shit…Duce could beat him, ya know?
Smith: Duce gave a valiant effort. He was inches away from ending this on several occasions but…as Biff often does, he survived and prevailed.
Hood: BIFF!
Smith: And, despite whatever misguided rhetoric my colleague may attempt to spew there was no HUGE POP when Scruff counted three.
Hood: Ruiner of dreams!
Smith: A tough loss for Duce. OCW can be a very unforgiving place…I just hope Duce doesn’t get discouraged. He’s got a bright future here.
Hood: Oh, for sure.
Smith: Well fans we're about halfway through tonight's program which means...it's championship time!
Hood: Don't tell me Mike Best is mid-carding this shit! Especially when his contract status is in LIMBO
Smith: Of course not, Hood. We'd never stick Andrea in the midcard.
Hood: HEY!
Smith: We will, however, send you guys to Gruene Hall for what should be a violent affair. Vincent Langston puts his Savage Title on the line against Max Kael...and that match is next!
OCW Savage Championship
Vincent Langston © (28-4) vs. Max Kael (7-1)
~We head back to Gruene Hall. A gruesome scene is set to take place. The Savage Title match is moments away. A few fans inside Gruene Hall are spotted wearing face shields…or whatever those things are called. They must sense a BLOOD BATH on the horizon. Belvedere’s voice echoes throughout the old, historic, and slightly dingy establishment. The fans go wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen the following contest is a Savage Rules Match and it is scheduled for one fall! The winner of this bout will walk away OCW Savage Champion!!
~A huge pop! These fans aren’t necessarily behind anyone…they are just really eager to finally see these two monsters go at it~
Smith: I’m not sure there’s been a more heavily anticipated Savage match in company history, Hood.
Hood: Man these guys have been ready and waiting to tear each other apart since Block Party.
Smith: Yep and tonight it all comes to a head. Folks, if you don’t like violence, well…
Hood: I’m sure PBS or every station in Canada has something more acclimated to your liking.
~”Witch Doctor” by De Staat hits! A strong aroma of boos stink up the joint. We cut outside to spot Max Kael marching toward Gruene Hall. A female standing nearby senses a devastating presence approaching from behind. She turns and shrieks, running away. Max pays her zero attention, continuing his menacing march toward the hall. She doesn’t appear ready to stop for the guards to part…so they are forced to jump out of his way. Kael enters Gruene Hall…he catches a whiff of debauchery. His nose wrinkles. He smiles, revealing his steel teeth. Everyone around Max backs away, achieving what they believe to be a safe distance. Little do they know how quick this fucker can be when/if he feels like really moving. He steps over the guardrail into the ringside area, making his way up the steps before entering the ring with an eerie calm~
Belvedere: From Arkham, Massachusetts…standing 6’4 and weighing in at 236lbs…Max Kael!
Smith: I say it every week but it bears repeating…there is something extremely unsettling about Max Kael.
Hood: He’s almost like a horror movie ICON come to life. The dude just keeps coming and coming, moving forward without any sense of remorse or any show of pain. I’d take a match with anybody on this roster before choosing Max.
Smith: Langston has faced many great wrestlers in his short OCW stint. But he’s never, ever faced anything like what awaits him in that ring right now.
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
~"I Am Legend" by Colton Dixon hits! We get more cheers for Langston than usual…probably because humans being humans must pick a side. So, Langston is seen as the lesser of two evils. He marches his way toward the venue with the now signature chain wrapped around his neck. He reaches the entrance and pauses. He looks through the opening and spots Max eyeing him from the ring. Langston raises his head and takes in a huge breath before barreling through the opening. He hops over the guardrail and remains outside the ring, staring at Max. Kael’s one eye has not left Langston this entire time~
Belvedere: From Washington, D.C….he stands 6’4 and weighs in at 230lbs…he is the current reigning and defending OCW Savage Champion…he is…Vincent “The Legend” Langston!!!
Smith: Langston is here for a fight!
Hood: Yes, yes, I see he’s got his little chain with him. Too bad it hasn’t given him the courage to step into that ring.
Smith: I don’t think he’s afraid of Max, Hood. He’s simply taking his time. He doesn’t want to rush into a trap.
Hood: Sounds like code for HE’S A FUCKING COWARD
~Langston slowly makes his way up the steps and into the ring. Max hasn’t moved. Gruff walks up, asking for the belt. Langston, keeping his eyes on Max, removes the belt, handing it over. Gruff shows the title to Max. Kael is unresponsive. Gruff is like, “GERT DERM SERN!” He takes the belt and shows it to the crowd…they pop. He calls for the bell, it rings~
Smith: And here we go!
Hood: Hold on to your assholes!
Smith: That’s not how that phrase goes, Hood.
Hood: I’m improvising!
~The crowd rises behind Langston (verbally). They chant for the self-professed Legend. He doesn’t let the unique situation throw his focus. He slowly removes the chain from around his neck, showing it to Max. Kael still has YET to move. His eye pierces through Vincent. Langston raises the chain high in the air, showing it off to Max, trying to get under his skin. Max is unmoved~
Smith: Can you play mind games with Max?
Hood: It doesn’t look likely.
Smith: Langston ruined what could have been a crowning achievement for Max with, perhaps, that very chain. Most people would be bothered by this sort of mockery…
Hood: Max is confident in his abilities, Smith. He truly believes that he is better than Langston and tonight he gets a chance to prove it without all the bullshit that got in his way at Block Party.
~Langston, bothered by Max’s lack of emotion, steps forward, hoping that closing the gap might provoke the monster standing across from him. Langston approaches Max, who remains eerily still. Langston, abandoning his training, lets frustration get the better of him. He gets right in Max’s grill. He shoves the chain into Max’s face yelling, “REMEMBER!” The fans are on their feet, yelling, cheering, anxious for what’s about to go down. Vincent rears back with the chain to hit Max in the face…but Max shoots his left arm up, blocking the blow. He leans in with a head butt, right into Langston’s chin!! Vincent stumbles back. Max marches ahead~
Smith: Langston wanted a reaction and, well, he got one.
Hood: Be careful what you wish for, Vinnie!
Smith: The chain might have been a short sighted game plan. Max has been wary of that chain for over a month now.
~Max reaches back for a Mongolian Chop! Langston, having completed his fair share of scouting, throws his chain wrapped right fist forward into Max’s left abdomen/rib cage area!!! Kael is stunned. He staggers. Langston raises his right hand high and brings it down across the back of Kael’s neck, sending the freak of nature to his knees. Vincent takes a step back…the visual almost displays Max kneeling to Langston. Vincent reaches back with his chain and brings it forward, smashing Max in the side of the face~
Smith: Some devastating blows by Langston! He hit Max where he’s unprotected, right in the gut.
Hood: Yea but he just struck him in the face.
Smith: Indeed…I guess he’s feeling a wave of momentum.
~Max no-sells the shot. He looks up. The left side of his face is bruised…part of his cheek almost seems broken. There’s blood running from his mouth…but, structurally, he’s fine. He flashes those metal teeth. Langston looks at the chain, then at Max’s face…almost in disbelief. He grabs his right wrist with his left hand and reaches back for a double axe handle. Kael rises. Vincent brings the double axe handle down…but Max catches it with his hands, stopping Langston just shy of bringing some serious force onto Max’s head~
Smith: Langston screwed up! Max’s face appears to be nearly indestructible!
Hood: He endured the pain after Block Party. Now, Max gets to bask in the pleasure!
Smith: Vincent needs to stay focused on the legs, the body…it’s a foreign strategy in combat. Normally a solid blow to the head is all a person needs to achieve victory…tonight, however, that’s only going to set Langston back.
Hood: I love these eMpire guys!
~Kael dives forward with a headbutt, using the eye as the leading force, into Langston’s chest!! Vincent stumbles back. His arms drop. Max kicks Langston in the gut. Vincent doubles over. Max smacks Langston across the face with a straight right hand, spinning the Savage Champion around. Kael grabs Langston’s right arm and he pries the chain free. Langston turns around and sees Max with the chain. The Savage Champion’s eyes widen~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: Turnabout is fairplay!
Smith: Langston had better utilize speed and quickness…if that’s even an advantage for him.
Hood: I’m telling you…he’s at a disadvantage in every phase. He’s fucked, Smith. It’s time to pay your debut to the eMpire, Vinnie!
~Kael lunges forward with a right hand, wrapped in chain. Langston ducks and hits the ropes. Kael turns around. Langston charges ahead. Max spins, looking for a discus CHAIN shot…Vincent ducks! He hits the ropes again. Kael staggers forward due to the misfire…Langston bounces off the ropes and runs into Kael’s back with a clobbering forearm! Max stumbles into the ropes, his arms leaning over the top…the chain still wrapped around his right fist with the loose end dangling toward the ground. Langston grabs Kael by the feet and lifts up, dumping Max over the top rope to the ground…he hits hard~
Smith: Smart maneuvering and attack by Langston.
Hood: To think…he may actually run around in this match. That’d be a change of pace.
Smith: He has a visceral awareness when it comes to survival, Hood. I’m sure he’ll do what he must to hang in there.
Hood: Yea, I’m getting the vibe that this isn’t going to be much of a wrestling match. More of a brawl between two monsters.
~Max doesn’t stay down long. He rises to his feet. Langston, grabbing onto the top rope, leaps into the air and sprawls out, diving onto Kael with a crossbody!! Both men crash onto the thinly veiled wood floor. Kael takes the brunt of the blow while Langston’s elbows and knees clash pretty harshly. Langston struggles to his feet, working his knees and elbows. He isn’t diverted long…his attention turns right back to Max and the chain. He grabs at the loose end, trying to rip the chain from Max’s hand~
Smith: I think, if you asked Langston at this point, he’d tell you he regrets bringing the chain down to ringside.
Hood: Yep, if I were him I’d just get rid of the thing.
Smith: He’ll probably do that, if he can secure it.
~The chain seems just about freed when Max’s left hand shoots up, clutching Langston around the throat. Vincent’s grip weakens. It releases…his primary focus has shifted to relieving the pressure on his throat. Max sits up…Langston is working on prying Kael’s fingers away…but Max’s strength is formidable. Max manages to stand. He rears back with his chain wrapped right hand and throws a forward punch. Vincent breaks free from Max’s vice grip, dodging the punch. Max stumbles into the guardrail. Langston runs up from behind, looking to dump Max into the crowd. However, Max, having just experienced the same move, throws a mule kick into Langston’s gut. Vincent stumbles back, doubling over. Kael brings his chain fist down…but Langston moves and hustles away, stumble/walking around the ring~
Smith: Max is trying to deliver a crushing blow with that chain but, so far, Langston has managed to avoid it.
Hood: I think that chain has been the star of the match so far.
Smith: I wouldn’t say that…I just think Max might be a little too focused on giving Langston a taste of his own medicine from Block Party.
Hood: I think, after tonight, we need a CHAIN FREE environment.
~Langston rounds a corner and stops, looking around the ring post at Max. Kael’s lone eye locates Langston and he heads The Legend’s way. Langston disappears behind the ring. This doesn’t deter Max. Kael lifts his right arm up, squeezing his grip around the chain, eager for it to meet Langston’s bone structure. Max steps on the bottom level of the ring steps. Langston pops up with a steel chair! Max hops down…Langston swings the chair at Max’s head. Max greets the chair with a straight right hand. The chain wrapped hand BUSTS through the seat of the chair!! Vincent tries tripping the chair free, but can’t. He lets go. Max shakes his right hand, trying to pop his hand free. Langston sees opportunity. He takes a few steps back and lunges forward with a big boot into Kael’s face!! The force sends Max back, into the steps, causing him to tumble over and onto the other side~
Smith: The fall may have done more damage to Max than the kick!
Hood: Langston is fighting a man who PUNCHED THROUGH A STEEL CHAIR
Smith: To be fair, his fist was wrapped in that chain.
Hood: Fairness is overrated.
~Langston’s leg winds up on the steps via the follow through of the boot. He stumbles back, regaining his balance. He hustles forward, realizing he cannot give Max too much time to recover. He hops onto the second step…Max rises , startling Langston. Vincent snares Max by the head…he throws a few knees into Max’s face. The impact sends Max stumbling…but he instantly moves forward due to the steel reinforcement throughout his face. Langston reaches for his knee, wincing. Max throws a left hand. Langston, still on the second step, blocks it with his right leg. Max swings the right hand in a way that enables to top of the chair to bash Langston in the midsection!! The Legend falls off the steps, stumbling back into the barricade. Max savagely rips the chair from his right hand, tossing it as far as he can into the crowd. He marches toward Langston. He throws a vicious right hand…Langston ducks and stumbles into the ring apron, his back to Max. Max delivers a knife edged chop with his right hand…Langston spins around, avoiding a chest collapsing blow. Vincent is leaning against the ring post. Max throws a right haymaker…Langston ducks and rolls forward. Kael’s right hand PINGS against the ring post. He turns, looking for Vincent…Langston is back on his feet. He leaps up and hits Max with a dropkick!!! Kael stumbles against the post, shaking his head~
Smith: Max is one scary individual.
Hood: No shit…I think he’s trying to murder Langston. Vincent keeps dodging these things like a soldier avoiding enemy fire.
Smith: One solid blow from Max could end it.
~Vincent charges in. Max moves…Langston rams his shoulder into the post!!! The fans at ringside wince…the sound was, well, not good if you’re a Langston fan. Vincent turns around, holding his shoulder. Max winds up and DRILLS Langston in the face with the right hand wrapped in chain!!! Langston falls to the ground like a giant sock of pennies (should have gone with ton of bricks). Gruff hops out of the ring in anticipation. Max drops to his knees and covers Vincent. Gruff makes the count~
1!
2!
3…NO!
Smith: The Legend got his shoulder up!
Hood: Ya know…when you think about it…has Langston been pinned in OCW?
Smith: Once, by Aidan Collins at Death March.
Hood: Yea…shit. He never got pinned at Block Party. He lost to Paras because Paras was able to hit all four buckles and retain. Fuckin guy is damn near unpinnable.
Smith: So far
~Kael rises to his knees. He starts to unwrap the chain from his right hand. Langston rolls over. He gets to all fours and tries to crawl away. We see a trail of liquid staining the mat outside the ring…The Legend is busted. He sits up against the guardrail. He’s busted super deep above his left eye…the fans groan in pain and horror when a close up is shown of the gash~
Smith: Oh my gosh!
Hood: Holy shit that’s deep.
Smith: It’s almost worth stopping the match.
Hood: That wouldn’t be very Savage, Smith.
~Max rises…the chain is in his hand instead of around it. He runs at Langston with a knee. Langston crawls forward, averting disaster. Max manages to pull up before slamming into the guardrail. He turns around, displaying uncanny quickness and lassos the chain around Langston’s neck!!! Langston lets out a loud gag…Max pulls him to his knees. Max wrenches back, dragging Langston within leg’s reach. He wraps his legs around Langston’s waist and proceeds to choke The Legend!! The blood runs from Langston’s eye down the left side of his face. He reaches for something, anything. Gruff leans in…he sees Langston’s cut and goes “That’s NASTY!” Max smiles while doing his best to murder the Lang Stone. The fans at ringside cheer Langston on, hoping their support might encourage the Savage Champ to endure~
Smith: Langston will rue the day when he brought a chain into play.
Hood: Yep, Max is showing him that two can play the chain game!
Smith: I…I don’t really see how Langston can escape this. He’s wounded…he’s likely concussed and now he’s losing consciousness.
Hood: New champ, baybay!
~Langston’s only been pinned once for a reason…he’s a fucking fighter. He refuses to give up, throwing a violent arm at Gruff. Gruff backs away, grumbling. Langston sits up…it’s only worsening the choke hold, but it’s the lone route to salvation his eyes can locate. He’ll barrel through this fucking wall if he must. He manages to get to his knees. Max continues to pull back…Langston’s throat has nearly swallowed the chain due to all the pressure. Vincent is in incredible pain…his eyes are bulging…the blood is flowing. Unspeakable damage is taking place to his windpipe and vocal cords. But…he will NOT give in. He manages to fight to his feet…the fans at ringside continue to encourage. Max seems surprised…in, ya know, his own Max like way. Langston kicks his feet up on the guard rail and he kicks back!!! The force sends both men tumbling backward…Langston lands on top of Max…Kael’s shoulders are down…Gruff drops to his knees to make the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: I don’t know how he did it. I don’t’ think it was very wise, honestly…but he’s still in this match.
Hood: Fucking Max had to release that hold to keep from losing.
Smith: Yes, but Langston’s throat has suffered extensive damage.
~Vincent crawls away. Max sits up…he slaps the mat, showing some legit emotion for the first time this evening. Langston sits on the bottom level of the nearest set of steps. He’s rubbing his throat and rocking back and forth. He coughs and spits…a huge spat of blood stains the outside. Gruff walks over, placing his hand on Langston’s back. He asks The Champion if he’s okay to continue. Langston looks up at Gruff and warns him about asking that question a second time. Gruff puts his hands up and backs away~
Smith: At some point the ref needs to step in and do their job! Of course Langston isn’t going to quit…you need to make that call FOR him!
Hood: Oh shut the fuck up you gaping vag…if Langston wants to die defending his Savage Title then I say…LET HIM DIE
Smith: Callous, heartless, soulless monster!
~Max rises. Langston looks over at Max through the corner of his eye. He, too, rises. Although he’s moving far less efficiently than Max. Kael retains possession of the chain. Langston tries to regain advantage, given the momentary reprieve. He throws a boot at Max’s midsection…Max blocs the kick and delivers a HUGE Mongolian Chop via the aid of the chain!!! Langston staggers back against the ring post, reeling. Max dives in for a headbutt…Langston moves! Max’s head PINGS against the post. He staggers, shaking his head. Langston, sensing a small window, runs in and drives Max’s head into the post. He does it again and again and again and again. He finally grabs Max by the head and slings him backward…Max hits the floor, the back of his head bouncing against the surface, roughly. Max is down! Langston leaps into the apron, gasping for air. Kael’s been busted open, the first legit sign of vulnerability we’ve seen all night~
Smith: Langston just busted the near invincible Max Kael open!
Hood: This fucking Langston guy…
Smith: What?
Hood: How does he do it? Tonight is Max’s night! Langston needs to just step aside and let nature take its course.
~Vincent continues to watch blood ooze from his head and mouth…it’s currently staining the apron. He coughs and rubs his throat. He knows he needs to remain focus, stay on top of Kael but his body isn’t cooperating. Max sits up. He slowly begins to rise, chain in hand. Langston turns around and flashes the briefest hint of disappointment that Kael is already back on the prowl. He throws a punch at Max…Max blocks it and stifles Langston with a short jab to the chest via the chain wrapped fist. Langston, much like before, stumbles against the ring post. Max whips the chain at Langston…Langston drops to his knees. The chain hits the post, slinging around the metal. Langston grabs the loose end and yanks down…this jerks Max into the post. The impact doesn’t do much…but Max suddenly finds himself restrained. Vincent gets to his feet…he holds the chain with one hand and starts to punch Max in the head with the other. Max’s head absorbs the blows, each one depressing his posture just a little bit more than the previous~
Smith: Langston’s got Max chained, in a strange way, to the post! He’s pummeling the freak of nature with right hands!
Hood: Freak of nature? That sounds a bit harsh.
Smith: Well he’s not what I’d exactly call normal.
Hood: How about, instead of freak of nature you call him…god among men!
Smith: Uh, no.
~Finally, after several punches to his wounded head, Max drops to his knees. Langston senses vulnerability…he senses Max weakening. He throws a knee right into Max’s face!!! Max tries to fall front first onto the floor but Langston’s grip on the chain keeps him on his knees. Langston releases the chain. Max leans forward. Langston grabs him by the head and slams the back of his head into the steps…he then pulls Max up and slams the back of his head into the post. The fans at ringside are extremely uncomfortable watching this alarming amount of violence. Blood starts to stain the post, sliding downward. Max’s lone, blue eye is dimming…it’s nearly shut. Langston, with Max in his hands, delivers SCARS OF WAR!! Gruff comes in for the count~
1!
2!
3…NO!
Smith: He kicked out?!
Hood: This fuckin guy is unreal!
Smith: His skull could be fractured and he’s STILL kicking out of moves.
Hood: Not just moves…one of the most effective moves in all of wrestling!
~Langston looks at Gruff, almost is disbelief. He looks down at Max. Kael remains on his back…his head is a dark shade of red…perhaps a shade in the realm of 800,000. Langston rips the chain from Max’s right hand. He yanks it off the ring post. Max slowly starts to sit up. Langston holds the chain with both hands. He brings it up over his head, keeping his vision on the rising Max. Kael struggles to his feet. Max, through all the blood and pain, cocks a half smile. He says something that sounds like, “Lang Stone…” Vincent lowers his hands. He THROWS the chain aside! The fans pop. He drills Max with a right hand…then another…and another…Max is reeling~
Smith: Langston ditched the chain!
Hood: He wants to beat Max without it…kinda.
Smith: Well, to be fair, Max has used the chain just as much as Langston.
Hood: I think we’re seeing Langston evolve in front of our eyes. Max is taking him places, in this sport, he never thought he’d go. Can he survive?
Smith: He’s got the upper hand right now…but Max Kael is capable of coming back from just about anything.
~Kael appears just about ready to topple over, perhaps for the final time. Langston rears back and moves ahead with a huge lariat. Max ducks and hoists Langston onto his shoulders!!! The fans react with shock. Max’s knees buckle, just a bit. Langston, feeling the instability, starts to pull and rip at the various cuts, gashes, and soft spots in and around Kael’s head. The Prime Minister of Maxopotamia is struggling~
Smith: Max is in trouble!
Hood: He’s going to drop Langston!
Smith: Vincent is digging into his wounds. This is grotesque!
Hood: You do what you gotta do!
~Max drops to one knee! Langston tries to get off his shoulders…but Max rises!! He looks ready to throw Langston…Vincent, however, elbows Max RIGHT IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD. Max’s eye bulges…it’s as though a major shock has hit his system. Langston spins around, off of Max’s shoulders and hits SCARS OF WAR!!! Gruff drops in for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The bell rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND STILL OCW SAVAGE CHAMPION…VINCENT LANGSTON!!!!!
Smith: Langston did it!
Hood: He beat the immovable object…the unstoppable force…the scariest mother fucker on the planet! Vincent Langston just beat Max Kael!
Smith: And he did it…or at least the closing minutes of it…without his chain!
Hood: He proved to the world that he can hang and defeat one of the most legendary figures this sport has ever seen.
Smith: A tough loss for Max. But, as we saw earlier, he’s got a fresh contract so I’m sure he’ll bounce back and continue his ascension through the OCW ranks.
Hood: That’s if he’s got enough blood to work a pen.
~Langston crawls away from Max. He’s had enough of Mr. Kael. Medics, already on standby, rush over to Langston. He fights them away, retrieving his belt and exiting Gruene Hall. His coughs echo throughout the waning sky. Max is down. Is he dead? Fans at ringside look on with horrified expressions. Medics lean over Max, concerned~
Smith: Let’s hope Max is okay. I think we get so caught up in how much of an anomaly he is that we do forget he’s still human.
Hood: Sort of human.
Smith: He’s human.
Hood: More human than human?
Smith: I don’t even know what that’s supposed to mean.
~Kael suddenly sits up! The medics back away, shocked by the man’s sudden resurgence. Max’s stainless steel teeth chew on his bottom lip. The blood on his face makes the man look like some sort of hellish product. He gets to his feet and marches up the ring steps. He enters the ring a bloody, horrified mess…however, his movements indicate that he could keep fighting if he had to. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his fresh OCW contract~
Smith: Is he going to sign the contract right now? That’d be a grand gesture.
Hood: He’s going to sign it in blood!
Smith: Sounds rather macabre.
Hood: Nah man, blood is thicker than ink, right? A blood signature binds you forever!
~Kael’s steel teeth stand out underneath his blood soaked visage. He eyes the contract before spitting a huge spat of blood onto the documents. The fans become angered. Max holds the contract up high and RIPS it right down the middle. He throws the disheveled remnants of the binding document into the air before exiting the ring. The fans BOOOO. Max doesn’t care. He exits the ring and steps over the guardrail, shoving fans out of his way~
Smith: Well that wasn’t very nice.
Hood: Does that mean he wants more money? A longer deal? Give him what he wants, Welsh!
Smith: I think we all know Max doesn’t have much respect for Langston. The loss tonight may have been a breaking point for, legit, one of the greatest wrestlers of our lifetime.
Hood: I fucking hope not! He’s in the eMpire…they are killing it!
Smith: Well, ya know Hood…motivation is harvested from a variety of crops.
Hood: What the fuck does that even mean
Smith: It means Max has his ideals and, apparently, the path he’s on in OCW is taking him away from his ideals. If this is the last we’ve seen of Max Kael then it is unfortunate but I am glad that we got to see him compete in OCW for as long as we did.
Hood: Long may he maim.
~We cut backstage to find JONES standing outside the trailer for GM Marcus Welsh~
Jones: Hey guys! Great event so far! I’m out here attempting to get a word with Mr. Welsh concerning what we just saw. News reports broke earlier that the eMpire were mulling over new contracts. If what we just saw was any indications then...well…I’d have to say…
~The door to the trailer opens. Inside we see GREG~
Greg: Marcus is busy.
Jones: Just a word, please!
Greg: I’m sorry, dear. But Marcus has a lot on his plate tonight. Please go and find someone else to talk to. K thanks bye!
~Greg slams the door~
Jones: I can only guess that Mr. Welsh isn’t happy over what just transpired. I’m sure we’ll get more updates on the roster situation as the evening plays out. Back to Smith and Hood!
Smith: I’m not a fan on commenting about things of which I have no knowledge.
Hood: Yet here you are, commenting on fighting.
Smith: I hate you. Fans, the night seems to be taking a unique turn. Get ready because things are about to get interesting…the Noah’s Ark Match is next! It is for the vacant Paradigm Championship!
OCW Paradigm Championship
Noah’s Ark Match
Alice Knight (14-5) vs. Cecilworth M! Farthington (9-1) vs. Chastity Temple (5-2)
~Our view focuses back on the LAGUNA POOL. We spy four boxes hanging via thin wires which attach to four metal arms. These four metal arms meet, combining into a giant ‘station’ which is hooked to THE CRANE. The four boxes are positioned above a turnbuckle, each. The sunlight seems to strangely shine brightly upon one box, in particular. COULD THIS BE FORESHADOWING? Belvedere, standing in the ring, clears his throat. The fans go wild~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen it is now time for the Noah’s Ark Match! Four boxes are suspended above the ring…each box positioned above a corner. Each box contains an item…one of the four boxes holds the Paradigm Championship. Whoever is able to locate the Paradigm Championship and bring it back into the ring will be named the new OCW Paradigm Champion!!
~The crowd screams with delight! Several “HOOT! HOOT!” chants sound out as this collection of weirdos are HEAVILY behind Alice~
Smith: A slightly different take on an infamous concept.
Hood: We had one of these back in the day, didn’t we? With TLS retaining the Ascension Championship.
Smith: Yes, a variation of what we’re about to see.
Hood: Nice…I’d be really excited if these fans weren’t HOOTING
~"Oops!... I Did It Again" by Britney Spears hits! The fans surrounding the pool give a mostly positive reaction toward Chastity. She fights her way through a mostly male crowd…their hands seem to be sticking to various portions of her body (mostly her ass). She smiles, pulling her arms and legs and shoulders through these handsy patrons. Once through, she holds up her “SFW!” sign!! The crowd starts to boo. Temple looks around, perplexed. She checks her sign to make sure a rogue ‘N’ hadn’t been snuck in there. But, nope, it appears just fine to her! She figures these people must need glasses…she hustles down the walkway and slides into the ring, pumping her sign in the air as many times as her arms can muster~
Belvedere: From Topeka, Kansas…standing 5’4 and weighing in at 108lbs…Chastity Temple!!!
Smith: Chastity continuing to spread her PURE message.
Hood: She’s something, let me tell you.
Smith: How apropos would it be for the bringer of purity to win the Paradigm Championship?
Hood: I question her purity.
Smith: How dare you!
~A loud “HOOT!” sounds out!!! The fans go WILD!! “HOOTHOOTHOOTHOOT!!!” Our POV zooms around until we find ALICE KNIGHT standing atop one of the soda straw slides!! She’s holding on to what appears to be a small hang glider. Alice leaps off without any entrance music…the chanting is all she needs!! She floats down to the ring via the hang glider which is in the form of a GIANT OWL!!! “HOOT! HOOT! HOOT!” Alice turns and looks into the camera which has somehow gained a parallel view…she places a hand across her upper lip, creating a phony mustache for some reason. The crowd goes wild!!!~
Smith: And here she comes!! Look at her soar!!
Hood: Fuckin hell
Smith: Isn’t she great? I mean the mustache, Hood! So great!
Hood: This is Texas, right? Anybody got a fucking gun I can borrow?
~Alice is about to land in the pool when, suddenly, a jet ski in the shape of a giant ANT floats beneath her. She hops on and takes off toward the ring!!! The fans get EVEN LOUDER!!! “ALICE! ALICE! ALICE!” She reaches the ring…the jet ski crashes atop the metal grating. She flies off but manages to tuck and roll between the ropes, popping to her feet in the center of the ring. She curtsies and then bows to the fans. They are going fucking nuclear~
Belvedere: From Bethel, New York…standing 5’6 and weighing in at 125lbs…she is a former Paradigm Champion…she is a former OCW Champion…she is in the OCW Hall of Fame…she is…ALICE KNIGHT!!!
~The fans yell out “HOOTHOOTHOOTHOOT!!!” Alice flaps her ‘wings’ and does the patented Alice-Flair strut. Chastity looks on, bewildered~
Smith: She’s turning things up to 11, Hood! This crowd is on fire!
Hood: Hopefully Farthington DESTROYS her.
Smith: I think she’s in for a big night, Hood. I think we’re about to see Alice’s return to glory!
~"Money" by Flying Lizards hits!! Instant BOOOOOS. The party comes to an abrupt halt. Alice frowns and places her hands on her hips in a faux pout posture. Farthington, surrounded by guards, makes his way through the people. The guards shove the people aside, ensuring that they don’t TOUCH CM!F. Farthington, sporting a very fresh and nice towel around his neck, stares at the ring. He looks up at the boxes and eyes the box shining brighter than the rest. He then makes his way down the walkway leading to the ring~
Smith: The reigning Wrestler of the Month making his singles debut on OCW PPV.
Hood: He teamed with his eMpire buddies at Block Party. Tonight he relies on one man, himself, to get the job done.
Smith: He could very well leave as the NEW Paradigm Champion.
~Farthington rolls into the ring and pops to his feet, arms in the air! The fans BOOOO. Alice just kind of watches him. Chastity is waving her ‘SFW’ sign around~
Belvedere: From Buckinghamshire, UK…standing 6 feet tall and weighing in at 85 Kilograms…Cecilworth M! Farthington!!!
~Farthington leans back in his corner, hands gripping the ends of his towel. He looks at his two opponents…confidence BEAMS from the Money Man in the eMpire. Belvedere exits the ring. Scruff, standing in the center, checks on each competitor. Chastity is throwing her sign around. He looks at CM!F. Farthington is busy holding his head high in the air, letting everyone know that he is proud and he is the best. Scruff turns to Alice. Alice waves at Scruff…Scruff smiles and waves back at Alice. The bell sounds!!! The fans go wild~
Smith: And here we go!
Hood: The fix is in, Smith! Did you see Scruff and Alice exchange nonverbal communication?
Smith: It was just a wave.
Hood: Alice was like, “Yo, Scruff…we got this?” and Scruff was all like, “Fuck yea, bitch, we got this. I’m gonna screw these foolz.”
Smith: IT WAS JUST A WAVE
~Chastity marches toward the center of the ring. She waves her sign HIGH in the air!! “BOOOO” goes the crowd. Farthington slowly removes the towel from his neck. He saunters up, closing in on the petite competitor…he takes his towel and whips it into the sign!!! The sign goes flying…the wind carries it into the pool where the water washes away the markings. Temple looks up at CMF, furious. The fans pop~
Smith: Poor Chastity
Hood: She should have used permanent ink, Smith.
Smith: I heard a rumor the reason she went with water colors is because they are non-toxic.
Hood: Ah so she sniffs markers to get high. Got it.
Smith: I did not say that!
~Chastity and CMF are engaging in a massive stare down. Easily in the top 50 all-time OCW stare downs. Alice walks up, flapping her wings. The crowd goes, “HOOT! HOOT!” She begins to dance using her thumbs, jiving back and forth. The crowd goes wild!! CMF and Chastity turn, watching this cringe worthy display. The crowd gets into a “GO, Alice, Go, Alice, GO! GO! GO!” chant. CMF and Chastity, in unison, lunge forward and take Alice down with a huge double clothesline!!! She hits the ring, hard!! The fans BOOOO~
Smith: Now that was TOTALLY unnecessary.
Hood: Feels good
Smith: She was trying to have some fun! Those heartless competitors!
Hood: You turned on Chastity pretty fucking quick.
~Chastity feels a sense of camaraderie with CMF! She pats him on the back and points toward the heavens. She’s surprised to see the giant metal apparatus above. Her brow furrows…she turns back to CMF saying something like, “He’s up there! He’s got our back!” CMF suddenly hoists Chastity on his shoulder! Temple screams and kicks…her skirt flies up a few times giving us a solid view of her thonged ass. CMF charges forward and throws Chastity in the air…she comes down with SNAKE EYES across the top buckle!! She stumbles around, into CMF’s arms…he hoists her up, spins around and drops her with a Belly-to-Belly suplex!!! Chastity is down. CMF returns to his feet…he somehow has retained control of his towel. He calmly uses it to dry the sweat from his brow~
Smith: That vile man! He used Chastity’s help and then proceeds to abuse her.
Hood: He also exposed her posterior to the entire world! Although, it isn’t something we haven’t all seen before.
Smith: That’s somebody’s child you’re talking about!
Hood: So is CMF! Doesn’t stop you from ripping the shit out of him.
~Farthington tosses the towel over his shoulder. He looks up at all four boxes. The one with that ethereal light shining upon it catches his eye. SURELY something special must be contained within that box. CMF heads that way. He steps up on the bottom buckle and extends his arms…he curses his reach. He steps up on the second buckle and reaches…almost, but not quite. Farthington pauses, wondering if he can pay to have his arms extended. He steps up onto the top rope…finally! He reaches up, grabbing the box…footsteps sound. The ring shakes. He hesitates…his legs are taken out from underneath him!! CMF falls, crotching himself on the top buckle!!!! His legs get stuck…his body bends down, head pointing at the canvas. He sees ALICE!! The fans go wild!! Alice flaps her wings to the tune of “HOOT! HOOT!” She sprints around the ring, flaps her wings, charges forward, leaps into the air and drills CMF with a dropkick!!! CMF is stunned…he remains stuck. Alice drops to her knee…she reaches out and starts to pinch CMF’s cheeks. She locates his towel and rubs it in his face. The crowd cheers and laughs~
Smith: Haha! Look at her go!
Hood: What the fuck is she doing? Is she high?
Smith: She’s having fun, Hood!
Hood: She’s making a mockery of Farthington! There’s going to be hell to pay!
~CMF is furious!! He reaches his arms out, trying to grab Alice. She backs away, holding his towel. CMF sits up, trying to get his legs free. Alice continues pacing backwards, slowly…she is jerked down by Chastity!! Temple drops her with a Backstabber!!! Alice arches her back, in pain. She rolls away, toward the ropes. Temple snares the towel. CMF gets his legs unhooked…he falls harmlessly to the mat. He struggles to his feet and approaches Chastity. Temple tells him off over his lack of integrity and honesty…he dared to bear false witness against her. She throws the towel down and stomps on it. CMF charges forward with a lariat. Chastity performs the MATRIX evasion. She runs into the ropes…CMF turns around…Chastity springboards off the middle rope with a moonsault!! She takes Farthington down!! The fans pop…the water washed away her ‘SFW’ message and, at the same time, apparently washed away their negative perception of Miss Temple. Chastity slaps CMF in the face repeatedly, losing her cool a bit~
Smith: Farthington broke a ten commandment and in Chastity’s world that is unforgivable.
Hood: She should try reading a little NEW Testament. It preaches this thing called forgiveness.
Smith: Are you really going to lecture Chastity on the Bible?
Hood: I’m just saying!
~Temple seems intent on slapping CMF to death. Fortunately for the money man within the eMpire, Alice Knight flies into view with a knee to the side of Chastity’s face!!! Temple’s body flies into the ropes. She gets caught up in between the middle and bottom rope. Alice grabs onto the top rope and jumps into the air…she extends her legs and allows gravity to do the rest, pulling her back down…she swings her legs forward and kicks Chastity through the ropes, out of the ring and onto the metal grating!!! Temple hits hard! Her body rolls toward the edge of the grating coming to a stop JUST before falling in. Alice, seated atop the bottom rope looks down at Chastity…she gives a few ‘wing flaps’ for the crowd…they go wild. Behind Alice we spot CMF sitting up~
Smith: And she’s back in it!! What athleticism!! What spunk!
Hood: Spunk?!
Smith: Don’t turn it into a filthy thing, Hood!
Hood: You said it, not me
~CMF looks over his shoulder…he spots Alice seated atop the bottom rope. He locates his TOWEL. He stands and heads over, wrapping the towel around Alice’s neck!! The fans scream! They boo! CMF drags her back into the ring…he tightens the towel’s grip…he drops to one knee, planting the other knee in her back…he proceeds to choke the life out of Alice!! Alice kicks and reaches out…she begins to lose energy. Her movements slow. She gives out one, final wing flap before leaning to her left, lifelessly. CMF releases his grip, tossing Alice to the side. He stands and looks around, hearing boos from 110% of the crowd!! He doesn’t care, he turns and stares at the special box…the box with that extra bit of light shining upon it. He heads that way~
Smith: How dare he choke Alice like that!
Hood: How would you have preferred he choke her?
Smith: She never hurt anyone!
Hood: She LITERALLY just kicked him in the face.
~CMF climbs the corner much quicker than before. He may be an oblivious lad, at times…but he’s smart enough to remember the third buckle is the preferred buckle for box procurement. He reaches up, snaring the box!! He tries to open it…but finds the task more difficult than anticipated. A man with a short fuse, CMF begins to punch the box after about 4.5 seconds of it refusing to open itself to him. He finally bashes it hard enough that it sort of explodes. All that’s left is the bottom of the box which displays…THE DUCK!!! THE CROWD GASPS!! THE LIGHT SHINES DOWN BRIGHTER THAN BEFORE…A HEAVENLY “AHHHHH” SOUNDS DOWN FROM THE, UM, HEAVENS~
Smith: It’s the DUCK!
Hood: I thought we were being extra careful with that thing. Farthington just about killed it.
Smith: I believe Welsh is doing everything in his power to give Cecilworth that duck without, just giving it to him.
Hood: Fuck appearances, man. DUCK THE GUY!
~The Duck “QUACKS!” The crowd erupts with joy!! It looks down at Farthington…CMF’s eyes go wide as saucers. Are they filled with tears? WE CAN NEITHER CONFIRM NOR DENY. The duck seems to almost smile. Are the duck’s eyes welling up? My gosh WHAT A MOMENT! CMF reaches for the duck, very carefully. He’s just about got the duck when, suddenly, Temple runs in, hopping onto the top buckle. She grabs Farthington by the waist and yanks him off…CMF’s weight and gravity enable her to drop him on his head with a German Suplex!!! CMF descends all the way from the top rope landing right on his head!! The ring shakes with impact!!! The DUCK, frightened by the violence, flaps away, descending into the pool where he nestles quite nicely and floats around. The crowd is on fire…they are thrilled with the action, the drama, and the romance~
Smith: So close…but not yet.
Hood: That fucking bitch! She just ruined the greatest moment in OCW history!
Smith: It appears CMF will have to wait just a little bit longer before he gets his duck.
Hood: Ugh
Smith: By the way…what was the deal with the duck’s box being the box with that strange light shining down upon it?
Hood: Because it’s a NICE DUCK
~Chastity sits up, feeling some of the pain from the fall…plus the other shit that’s happened to her thus far. She looks over and sees Alice. Alice is coughing, laying on her side. Chastity looks up at the boxes. She smells opportunity! TEEN SPIRIT! Chastity hesitates, trying to figure out which box to choose. They all look the same. Hmph…she places her hand on her chin. CMF starts to stir…she must move quickly. She says ‘screw it’ and heads toward the nearest corner. She begins the climb. She quickly reaches the top, showing the spryness most 19 year olds should possess. She reaches for the box…a gust of wind picks up and blows her skirt high in the air, exposing her ass. The fans let out a “WHOOHOOO!!!” Chastity reaches down, trying to cover her lower extremities. Farthington catches a glimpse of what’s going on…he rises to his feet. He heads over to the corner looking for a little retribution. He grabs Chastity around the waist. He attempts to German her off the top, just as she did to him. She rotates fully, landing on her feet!! CMF hits hard! He rolls onto his knees, wincing…looking to assess the damage. Chastity charges in and KNEES CMF right in the face!!! CMF’s body jolts backwards, violently…his knees tucked under his weight. The fans pop for Chastity’s offense. She looks back up at the box. A loud “HOOT!” is heard. She turns and sees Alice using the ropes to return to her feet~
Smith: An unfortunate gust of wind.
Hood: Perhaps she’s not meant to win that title.
Smith: I wouldn’t go that far…I’d simply advise that she wear pants…or shorts.
Hood: Why? So we can remove her best asset from appearing in her matches? SHAME
~Temple charges toward Alice, who is now on her feet. Temple leaps in the air with a Rear Window. Alice ducks. Temple’s dime ass hits the ropes…she bounces forward, stumbling on her feet. Alice charges ahead, looking for a bulldog. Temple throws her off. Alice hits the ropes, ricochets toward Chastity and extends her arm. Chastity does the same…both women are dropped with clotheslines!! They hit the mat~
Smith: Double clothesline! All three competitors are down!
Hood: Yes, but only two are out. CMF’s got this!
Smith: Not so fast, Hood.
~CMF sits up, shaking his head. He feels around, wincing when touching the spot most impacted by Chastity’s knee. He sees the two women down, barely moving. Farthington rises and heads for a corner…he’s not picky. He’s going with his gut…or luck…or both. Slowly, CMF begins to climb. The crowd yells, urging Alice and Chastity to get up. They start to stir. CMF reaches the second buckle. Chastity rolls to her left…Alice rolls to her left. The two women start to rise. CMF reaches the top buckle. He grabs the box…like before, he has trouble opening it. He sighs, frustrated. He shakes the box violently. The crowd screams in horror! Is he torturing an animal? Alice and Chastity reach the corner…they grab CMF’s legs and yank backward! CMF slips and falls, slamming his face into the top buckle…he falls backward! The two women begin climbing the same corner. They reach the top and look at one another. They race to open the box. OF ALL PEOPLE, Alice gets the box open. She pulls out…A BIBLE!! Alice seems confused. Chastity is OVERJOYED! She grabs the Bible, ripping it from Alice! She BLASTS Alice In the head with it! Alice falls from the top, hitting the mat. Chastity hops off the top rope…she starts to BIBLE UP! The good book is filling her with energy! CMF rises, groggily. Temple drills him in the head with the Bible. He gets up again, quickly…Chastity hits him a second time!! He stays down after the second blast. Temple leaps into the air and brings the Bible down onto CMF’s chest! The crowd is cheering…but also a bit uncomfortable with what they are seeing~
Smith: Chastity Temple has been filled with spirit! She’s going crazy!
Hood: Okay, Bible’s should be outlawed from all Chastity matches moving forward.
Smith: That sounds like a violation of religious freedom, Hood.
Hood: Look at the advantage it gives her! That’s not fair!
~Temple holds the Bible up HIGH!!! She carefully opens the book up. In the background we see THE DUCK casually swim by, looking as NICE as ever. Chastity is prepared to recite a verse. “THE TEN COMMANDMENTS” she begins. The fans grow uneasy…they’re all half naked and boozed up. Not really the ideal time to hear some preaching. But, Chastity is DETERMINED to spread the good word. “Ah, here we go…NUMBER 7… Thou shalt not commit adulter – “ before she can finish she receives a roundhouse kick from Alice, to the back of the head!! Temple drops the Bible and stumbles forward. The crowd goes wild!~
Smith: These fans weren’t eager to hear that commandment.
Hood: No shit…they’re here to drink, watch some fighting and potentially get laid. I’m pretty sure ALL of those things are against the Ten Commandments.
Smith: To an extent, yes.
~Alice reaches for Chastity only to receive a chop to the chest. Alice returns the favor. The two women proceed to chop the hell out of one another…neither giving an inch. CMF gets to his feet. He walks over…the women stop and team up to chop CMF! He staggers back! The fans cheer. Alice and Chastity go for another chop…but CMF leap frogs both women, displaying tremendous athleticism. He hooks both their heads, one under each arm…and drops them with double inverted DDTS!!! Alice and Chastity are down. He rolls them both over…he locks Alice in a Sharpshooter…then Chastity…he’s got each of them in a modified sharpshooter (using one leg for each woman). The girls look up, yelling in pain. Farthington wrenches back, applying tremendous pressure to their backs. The girls are petite, so CMF is able to really bend their backs at a very uncomfortable and painful angle~
Smith: We’re seeing the submission side of Farthington’s arsenal. He may not be…the most serious? Person. But he is a very, very dangerous in ring competitor.
Hood: He’s wrecking shop! Kicking ass! Go Farthington, go!
~Both girls cease moving. Their heads fall to the mat. CMF, a man of taste and decorum, ceases with the submissioning…enough is enough. It’s time for CMF to collect what’s rightfully his. He looks up…two boxes remain. Confidently, CMF heads toward the box he KNOWS contains the Paradigm Title. He ascends the corner~
Smith: He looks confident.
Hood: This is man who transcends confidence. There is no DOUBT the title is in that box.
Smith: Uh, sure…whatever that means.
~CMF reaches the box!! He messes with it…he can’t get it open. These fuckin boxes!! CMF’s lack of patience shows up yet again…he hits the box. He punches it. It swings…it comes back at his face. He grabs it, loses his balance and falls to the ring holding the box! Upon impact the box EXPLODES! CMF is suddenly…COVERED IN ANTS! The crowd goes wild!! Farthington feels around…calm, at first. After a few bites he begins to frantically roll around before exiting the ring and hitting the water! The crowd goes wild. Alice staggers to her feet…she looks around, snickers and then does her signature WING FLAP to a raucous ovation and chants of “HOOT! HOOT!” A giant owl graphic flies toward us, consuming the screen like the Batman Logo~
Smith: Ahahaha! Yes! Yes!
Hood: This is the lamest shit in the history of OCW…and that covers a lot of lame ground.
Smith: What would this company be without Alice? SHE’S A TREASURE!
~We return to our regularly scheduled programming. Alice spots the LONE box remaining. She heads that way. She nearly trips over Temple’s Bible. She kicks it away…it slides next to Chastity. Alice begins the climb. Chastity’s body begins to vibrate and gyrate…she can FEEL the Bible next to her. Her hands locate the GOOD BOOK. She suddenly NIPS UP!!! The fans are stunned. Alice turns around. Chastity, raising the Bible high, charges in and slams the boot into the top buckle yelling “I SMITE YOU!” Alice falls from the top, landing on her feet. Chastity rears back and DRILLS Alice in the face with the Bible! Alice flips over the top rope landing roughly on the metal grating~
Smith: NOOO
Hood: Take that you filthy woman! Alice is a sacrilegious godless heathen, confirmed! She also has sex with bums.
Smith: YOU TAKE THAT BACK
~CMF rolls back into the ring. Chastity turns and spots CMF. She points the Bible at him and yells ‘YOU!!!’ Farthington stands, dumbfounded. Chastity charges at him and slaps him in the face with the Bible. He hits the ropes and stumbles forward. He bends over, touching the mat with his hand to prevent from falling. He snares his towel in the process. Chastity runs at him, screaming. He turns around and throws the towel right in her face!!! She drops the Bible and staggers to her left, trying to remove the towel. She does…just in time to see CMF kicking her in the gut!! She doubles over…he hooks her around the waist, walks over to the ropes and throws her out of the ring!!! She slams HARD with a powerbomb onto the metal grating!!! Her body is wrecked. CMF turns and looks toward the lone box. He heads toward that corner~
Smith: Chastity is down! Alice is down! This is turning into a nightmare!
Hood: It’s turning into a party!! Let’s go, Farthington!
Smith: Of all the people…
Hood: He’s going to put the M! in chaMpion!
~Farthington reaches up and…this time…THIS TIME….he gets the box to open. He reaches in and removes THE Paradigm Championship!!! CMF drops to the ring and holds the belt high!! The bell rings! CMF runs around the ring as though he defeated Hitler AND 1990’s Gary Oldman~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND NEW OCW PARADIGM CHAMPION…CECILWORTH M! FARTHINGTON!!!!!
Smith: And, yes…the eMpire has gained another belt.
Hood: Aww fuck yea!
Smith: The idiot can stop running around the ring now, we get it.
Hood: Let the man celebrate!
~CMF stops. He spots…THE DUCK! He leaps over the top rope, landing on the metal grating. He throws the belt over his shoulder and hops into the water. He high steps his way toward THE DUCK chasing after it. The duck flaps its wings, swimming away…just fast enough to stay out of reach of CMF~
Smith: Farthington is the OFFICIAL Paradigm Champion. But, he’s still trying to reach that duck.
Hood: It will be his, Smith. ONE DAY
Smith: Tremendous
~We cut back to the ring. CM!F is climbing out of the water with the Paradigm Title over his shoulder. The duck has evaded him once again. He heads around the ring with DUCK on the brain. The boos are already loud as Farthington walks down the walkway, but they get even larger when Marcus Welsh appears from the crowd to join him.~
Hood: It's a happy day for Marcus Welsh! The Paradigm Title has gone to its rightful home!
Smith: This whole match just left a sour taste in my mouth.
~Welsh congratulates a happy Farthington, obviously relieved at how things ended. He’s really laying in on thick, congratulating the new Paradigm Champion. CMF points in the direction the duck fled…Welsh nods saying, “We’ll take care of it, don’t you worry.” Farthington then leaves, while Welsh heads down the walkway to the ring. He impatiently asks an assistant to bring him a mic.~
Hood: Looks like Marcus has another reason for being out there.
Smith: I hope he's careful where he steps. It's pretty messy out there.
~Welsh clears his throat before speaking, but the boos are pretty heavy. He waits, and eventually they calm down.~
Marcus Welsh: You all are upset, but I think you all knew in your hearts that this was the expected result. Cecilworth M. Farthington was the clear favorite, and he proved to the world that he deserves to be the Paradigm Champion. But I'm out here now to talk about HOW he had to prove it.
~Welsh's grin fades as he suddenly looks more annoyed.~
Marcus Welsh: Look around me. Look at the destruction. Look at everything that is being cleaned up so we can keep going.
~There are stage crew running back and forth trying to sweep up debris and make the wrestling area safe once again.~
Marcus Welsh: All this chaos and damage, and this was for the Paradigm Championship. The PURE championship! This wasn't the Savage Title! This was supposed to be all about wrestling, dammit!
~The crowd reacts negatively, although some of the true wrestling geeks in the audience are nodding in approval.~
Hood: He's right, Smith. A "Noah's Ark" match goes completely against the spirit of the Paradigm championship!
Smith: But didn't Welsh have a chance to veto this one?
Hood: No, Smith, there was no choice! Zybala threatened to call Buffet!
Marcus Welsh: This should have been a great Triple Threat match. Maybe even make it a Submissions contest. But, no. One man had to ruin the glory of the title with a ridiculous concept like this. And I'm sick and tired of cleaning up after his messes!
~A small 'Zybala' chant begins to carry through the crowd, building in intensity. Welsh is looking more and more furious, hearing the name chanted over and over.~
Smith: The fans love Zybala.
Hood: Suck-ups.
Smith: He gives them what they want, Hood!
Hood: Making him a suck-up too! They all.. suck!
~Marcus brings the mic back up, but the chant is still too loud. He drops it back down, seething.~
~The LAGUNA POOL AREA suddenly EXPLODES, as Mike Zybala's music begins to play. The Commissioner walks out, smiling at the crowd reaction given to him.~
Smith: You knew Zybala wouldn't be able to stay in the back for this one!
Hood: He has no business being out here, this is Welsh's time!
~Zybala makes his way to the ring, sliding in, and soaks up the reaction for him before nodding appreciatively and turning back to Welsh.~
Mike Zybala: Marcus, my friend... why so angry? We're having an amazing night of wrestling! This could be one of the greatest pay-per-views in OCW history!
~The crowd cheers, clearly agreeing with Zybala, although Welsh doesn't acknowledge it. He just glares at Zybala, before beginning to speak.~
Marcus Welsh: I do think this could be one of the best nights in history, Mike, except for how you ruined it with this stupid Noah's Ark match. You and your ideas will be the death of this company one day!
Mike Zybala: About that, Marcus...... I wasn't the guy in charge when Depth won a match where YOUR booking almost drove OCW into bankruptcy. You may have had CMF's money bail you out, but that didn't stop Jimmy Buffett from losing his damn mind about it. He is tired of all your "great ideas" costing the company money. From hiring wrestlers that did nothing but collect a paycheck and have others wrestle for them to making people five thousand to one odds on winning, Buffett is tired of it all. He was going to shut down OCW!
~ Welsh looks worried about this news. He didn't hear anything about this.~
Zybala: Lucky for you, everyone working here, and all of our fans, I was able to convince him to sell the company instead of closing it. You're welcome for saving your job by the way. I'm sure you're wondering who bought the...
~Suddenly, "I Am Legend" by Colton Dixon begins to play, causing the crowd to immediately turn towards the entryway. Zybala lowers his mic, smiling as he looks back that direction. Welsh is livid at this interruption. He wants to know who bought his company. ~
Smith: It's the Savage Champion! Vincent Langston is back!
Hood: Why the hell is he out here, didn't he get enough earlier tonight against Kael?
~Vincent Langston bursts from the crowd, limping from his earlier injuries. His head is bandaged up. He has the Savage Championship in one hand, raising it above his head. In his other hand, though, he's carrying a briefcase.~
Smith: Langston gave us a hell of a brawl earlier tonight, but now he...
Hood: Oh shit! Oh SHIT!!
Smith: What, Hood? It's not like he's coming this way...
Hood: No, I mean, OH SHIT!!! He's got the Oh Shit briefcase!!
Smith: He... Oh shoot, you're right!!
Hood: Marcus!! MARCUS!!! RUN!!! RRUUUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!!
~Langston pulls himself painfully into the ring, as Zybala steps back to let him in. Welsh looks around in shock, as if realizing that in his haste he forgot to bring security with him to the ring. He starts to wave frantically to get someone's attention, but Langston steps up, right into his line of view. Welsh gulps audibly as the crowd begins to cheer loudly, wondering if this is actually going to happen.~
Hood: No! He can't cash in for the General Manager position!! We can't lose Marcus again!!
Smith: It's been debated by a lot of online legal fans whether Langston can take a "title" like the General Manager. I guess it's been decided in his favor!!
Hood: Kael! Cecil!! BEST!! GREEEGGGGG!!! SOMEONE GET DOWN HERE!!!
~Langston suddenly raises the briefcase in his hand, with Welsh watching it, desperately pressing himself back into the corner. Zybala is watching from the other side of the ring, looking just as interested as everyone else on what's about to go down. However, his expression changes when Langston suddenly lowers the briefcase, looking at it quickly.. before handing it over to Welsh. The general manager takes it, then looks at Langston.. and smiles. He nods, as Langston turns, pulling his chain off his shoulders and wrapping it around his wrist.~
Smith: Wait... something's not right here...
Hood: Oh my god... he’s got a new chain!! And, he's not here for Marcus!! He's NOT HERE FOR MARCUS!!
~Zybala is glancing between Welsh and Langston, his brow furrowed. It's clear he's figuring that this isn't as random as he thought it was. Meanwhile, Langston suddenly charges forward, swinging the chained fist, but Zybala, although shocked, manages to duck under it. He starts peppering Langston with rights and lefts, driving him back into the corner, as the crowd erupts.~
Smith: Langston's here for the Commissioner!! But Zybala's refusing to go down quietly!
Hood: C'mon, Langston! Now's the time! Fight back!
~Zybala drives in a few more hits, refusing to back down. He tries to remove the chain from the fist, perhaps to use it himself, but Langston pulls it away, then takes another wild swing. Zybala blocks it with his left arm, numbing it. He stumbles back, shaking the arm to try and bring it back to life. As Langston charges in again, Zybala manages a leapfrog over him, then grabs Langston from behind, hammering away at him with forearms. Langston stumbles away, clearly still feeling the abuse he took from earlier. Zybala sets himself, waiting for Langston to turn around so he can go for a SUPERKICK! Langston turns, and Zybala launches forward... and superkicks the briefcase, as Welsh jumped in front!! Welsh falls back to a seated position, while Zybala falls backwards, yelling out as he grabs at his injured leg.~
Smith: Oh my god! Zybala could have just dislocated his knee or broken something with a shot like that!!
Hood: Man, I hate Zybala, and even I'm wincing from that one.
~Zybala can't stand, in excruciating pain. Langston walks past Lynch, barely acknowledging him. He goes towards Zybala, who in spite of the anguish tries to roll away. Langston grabs at him, though, and starts pounding away. Thankfully, the chain has been lost to the side, but that doesn't mean the punches aren't doing some damage. Zybala is hurting badly as the shots continue, even as Welsh recovers and rolls himself out of the ring. He yells for the bell to ring. The timekeeper looks unsure, but he knows who's covering his paycheck. The bell rings.~
Smith: This can't be official!
Hood: The hell it can't! This match is live! C'mon, Legend!!
~Welsh reaches over the table and grabs at a backstage mic, shouting for a referee to get out here, as Langston continues to punish Zybala in the ring. He hauls Zybala up and immediately snaps him over with a powerful brainbuster, making sure to hold Zybala up for a few seconds before dropping him. Langston starts to go into the cover, but a referee still hasn't gotten out here, so he decides to get up and continue the violence. As Zybala tries to crawl towards the ropes, Langston grabs at his feet, twisting Zybala around and applying the Legendary Leglock!!! Zybala is in complete agony now, desperate to get to the ropes for freedom. Welsh is absolutely losing his mind at ringside, demanding to know where the referee is at.~
Hood: He's tapping!! Look, his hand, he's tapping out!
Smith: No he's not! He's reaching for the bottom rope!
Hood: Look at his pinkie finger, I swear to you, it's tapping out!
Smith: That's just insane, Hood. Besides, it wouldn't matter if he is or not, there's no ref!
~Zybala is still straining for the ropes, showing incredible guts. Langston decides to break the hold rather than wait, allowing Zybala to get free. The OCW Commissioner crawls forward, exhausted, having not prepared for such a brutal assault. He goes under the bottom rope and basically just falls to the outside. Welsh, watching nearby, looks on nervously as Langston pulls himself up and follows Zybala out. It appears that Zybala is trying to get under the ring, maybe to escape. Langston grabs his feet once again and hauls him back out... and Zybala sprays him with a fire extinguisher, sending Langston reeling back!! The crowd cheers as the white cloud covers the wrestler, giving Zybala a few seconds to recover.~
Hood: What the hell? This isn't a hardcore match! That's illegal!
Smith: How do you know it's not a hardcore match? Nothing was announced.
Hood: It's for a title shot, why would it be hardcore?
Smith: Well, there's no ref, so... wait, finally!!
~The fans react as Puff suddenly appears, hurrying to the ring. At least, hurrying as much as a man like him can. In the meantime, Langston is leaning on the side of the ring apron, trying to clear his vision. He finally blinks his vision clear... just in time to have Zybala hop over to him on one leg, latching onto Langston's head to go for a DDT! But Langston straightens up and yanks Zybala into the air instead, sending Zybala backwards and causing him to crash-land on the steel steps!! The crowd gasps, as Zybala collapses on the steps, not moving.~
Smith: Jesus! We might need medical help out here!
Hood: I told you, this one's hardcore!!
Smith: Hardcore or not, Zybala's in no shape to keep fighting after this!
~Puff is in the ring, but he doesn't seem to know what the rules for this one are. He's talking to Welsh, trying to figure out if he should be doing a countout. But Langston is back on his feet again, and he reaches over, grabbing Zybala and dragging him off the steps. Zybala's barely responsive as Langston rolls him back into the ring, then follows, looking down at the crushed commissioner. He looks back out at Welsh, as if giving him one final chance to intervene. Welsh doesn't even hesitate, immediately pointing to Zybala and telling Langston to finish it. Langston drops next to Zybala and snaps his head back, applying the No Peace Crossface submission!! Zybala's not even struggling, as the fall on the steps has completely taken him out. Puff watches closely for a few seconds, then turns and signals to the outside. The bell rings, and Welsh is jumping up and down with joy.~
Smith: No, it can't be...
Hood: Oh my god, it feels like Christmas!! Christmas in June!!
~Welsh yells for Belvedere. Belvedere, halfway up the ramp pauses, he seems to question Welsh at first, trying to make sure on everything that just happened. Welsh basically tells him what to say and waves him forward, towards the ring. The fans are in disbelief as Belvedere comes up with the mic, even as Langston finally releases the No Peace submission due to Gruff's urging.~
Belvedere: Ladies and gentlemen... due to the cash in of the Oh Shit! contract... and per General Manager Marcus Welsh... your new OCW Commissioner... Vincent "The Legend" Langston!
~BOOS fill the area, causing Belvedere to beat a quick retreat. Langston doesn't seem to mind, as he stands above the downed Zybala, studying his victim. Welsh makes his way into the ring, congratulating Langston, while clearly trying to keep a little distance from him. Langston can be unpredictable at times.~
Smith: It's the end of an era...
Hood: A terrible era!
Smith: But what does this mean, Hood? Vincent Langston... the Commissioner of OCW??
Hood: I... well, I mean, yeah, that's... but he has to be better than Zybala... right?
~The HATE level is reading eleven. This causes Welsh to gesture to Langston to depart, and the two men walk off. Welsh is already talking to Langston about some great ideas for the future, although it's unclear if Langston is fully listening. In the meantime, Zybala begins to come to in the ring. He struggles to get up, in a lot of pain from his leg and back. Medics come running down to check on him, as the crowd begins to quiet down.~
Smith: Zybala came into tonight as the OCW Commissioner, and now he might be leaving on a stretcher.
Hood: Sucks to be him!
~The stretcher is slid in, as the medics want to put a neckbrace on. Zybala shoves them away, upset. He reaches out his arms, demanding some help, and after a second of disagreement, the medics finally consent. Zybala is helped up, to the cheers of the crowd. It's clear that Zybala wants to walk out of here, rather than be carried out. A "Thank You Zybala" chant starts up from the heart-broken fans, as the former commissioner is helped from the ring to the outside. He starts up the aisle, acknowledging the chant, pushing away from the attendants to give them a final salute before being helped to the back.~
Smith: Could this be the last time we see Zybala in OCW?
Hood: I've had dreams like this.
Smith: Dammit, Hood, this is a man's career we're talking about!
Hood: Okay, okay, sorry! I honestly just don't know how to react now!
Smith: Who knows where we go from here?
~ Zybala is halfway down the walkway when Welsh’s voice sounds out.~
Welsh: Mike! Wait a minute, please!
~ Zybala stops and listens. ~
Welsh: I know we've had issues in the past, but I just want to say.... YOU'RE FIRED!!
~ Zybala looks shocked as the fans boo louder than ever!~
Welsh: Your contract said only Buffett could fire you, but you said he sold OCW! He's gone, you're not the commissioner anymore, you're not even an active member of the roster anymore! Get the Fuck out of my company!!
~ Zybala looks like he's holding back tears as he turns and walks through the fans. They try and encourage the crestfallen ex-commish with back pats and will wishes. They don’t offer much in the realm of comfort~
Smith: Langston is commissioner? Zybala is fired? Who owns OCW?
Hood: Wouldn’t it be cool if Welsh bought the company?
Smith: No Hood, that would NOT be cool.
Hood: Maybe the eMpire bought it.
Smith: I hope not!
~We cut back to the live feed. Smith and Hood still seem stunned by what's taken place~
Smith: It's apparently the wild west out here, fans.
Hood: A Block Party callback!
Smith: We have no idea who the owner is...Zybala was fired and now Langston is the commissioner. Oh and if that wasn't enough...we still have three EPIC matches remaining...sort of like a triple main event, if you ask me.
Hood: Three of the biggest matches in company history!
Smith: The Laguna Pool location has been reset and we're ready to go. The Hall of Fame Title is on the line...the original Icon...OCW's first Hall of Famer defends his HOF Title against OCW's most recent Hall of Famer. It's Lurrr. It's Meyhu. They clash, next!
Hall of Fame Championship
Penalty Box Match
Lurrr © (6-2) vs. Matt Meyhu (36-4)
~A shot is shown of OCW personnel securing something that looks like a shark tank cage to the metal grating surrounding the ring out over LAGUNA POOL. It’s a tall, rectangular structure comprised of transparent material…thicker than Plexiglas. It’s likely material similar to what’s kept THE DUCK safe and sound all these weeks. Anyway, they finally have it secured…they push and kick at it, but it does not budge. They turn and give a thumb up to CAP SLOCK who stands across the pool, dry and comfortable. He nods and whispers, ‘GOOD JOB.’ The fans begin chanting “HALL OF FAME!” Belvedere, in the ring, clears his throat~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a Penalty Box Match and it is for the OCW Hall of Fame Championship!!!
~The crowd goes wild!! These fans have short attention spans so their ‘Hall of Fame’ chant quickly turns into “HOF! HOF!”~
Belvedere: Rick Mathis will begin the match inside the penalty box. He cannot open the door from the inside…in order for Mathis to be released either Lurrr or Meyhu must open the box from the outside. At that point Mathis will be able to compete in this match…at any point during the match a person can be thrown into or may enter the penalty box. But, once inside, they will not be able to exit unless an exterior competitor opens the door. The first person to secure a pinfall or submission will leave here the Hall of Fame Champion and the #1 Contender to the OCW Championship!!! Introducing first…
~A healthy mixture of hearty cheers and venomous boos fill the New Braunfels air. The Marvel makes his way through the crowd wearing a LIME vest!! It sparkles in the Texas sun. He stands at the precipice of competition…aka at the beginning of the walkway. The LIME vest shimmers…it’s GLORIOUS! So glorious, in fact, that most of the boos turn into cheers. A loud “MEYHU” chant sounds out. Matt looks around, smiling…he says, “Finally, I knew they’d come around.” He makes his way across the walkway…he leaps onto the apron and leaps over the top rope, showing off his tremendous athleticism~
Belvedere: Introducing first…FIGHTING OUT OF THE LIME CORNER…he stands 6’5 and weighs in at 240lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he is the latest addition into the OCW Hall of Fame…he is The Marvel, Matt Meyhu!!!
Smith: The Marvel has never sparkled more than on this June afternoon!
Hood: Look at that vest! Look at it!
~Smith and Hood each apply a pair of shades before staring intently at the very bright, very LIME vest~
Smith: It shimmers, it shines…it’s got the sparkle of a champion!
Hood: That’s the second nicest thing I’ve seen this evening.
Smith: Please, that vest is nicer than a duck.
Hood: Splish Splash your opinion is TRASH
Belvedere: And, his opponent…
Smith: The ICON is about to arrive!
Hood: The ORIGINAL Hall of Famer!
Smith: OCW’s first Hall of Famer versus it’s most recent.
I used to be broke, confused..no joke
~Rick Mathis barrels through the fans. We assume Lurrr is trailing, hidden behind Rick’s massive stature. Mathis reaches the beginning of the walkway, cracking his knuckles, glaring at the ring. He’s dressed in his wrestling attire. But…there is no Lurrr~
Smith: Where’s Lurrr?
Hood: Maybe he’s off buying a vest…he doesn’t like to be shown up, ya know.
~Meyhu seems to be wondering the same thing. He points and asks Scruff…Scruff shrugs. Meyhu says something about a ‘chicken.’ We cut to Mathis…he points toward the VIP hot tub…our view ZOOMS in to find a man at the bar, downing a cold Budweiser. He’s wearing a straw cowboy hat. Once finished, he turns around, the lower half of his body underwater…IT’S LURRR! He snares the HOF title off the bar counter and tosses it over his shoulder, wading his way through the water, to the side. He exits the water, sporting a Texas A&M swimsuit and matching flip flops. He marches over toward Mathis, cutting in front of the big man. Lurrr removes his cowboy hat and tosses it into the VIP pool toward a bunch of young women…sadly, some middle aged, unattractive chaperone catches it, nearly soiling herself with excitement. Lurrr cringes before hustling down the walkway with Mathis following behind~
Belvedere: From Houston, Texas…he is a 3 time OCW Champion…he is the original Hall of Famer…he is the current, reigning and defending Hall of Fame Champion…he is…Lurrr!!!
Smith: Nice to see Lurrr was enjoying himself.
Hood: He spent many summers here as a kid, Smith. Bringing back memories!
Smith: He also made one fan VERY happy.
Hood: Yea, let’s just forget about that.
~Mathis steps onto the apron. Lurrr hustles up the ring steps. Mathis sits across the middle rope, giving Lurrr easier access, which he gladly accepts. Mathis stands and looks to enter. Scruff steps in, informing Mathis he cannot enter the ring. Lurrr steps forward acting all curious and concerned. Meyhu and his LIME vest steps into the fray, trying to make sure the rules are kept intact. Belvedere, meanwhile, grabs Lurrr’s HOF title and sneaks away off camera, exiting the ring area~
Smith: Do not let him in there, Scruff. He needs to be locked in that box.
Hood: Shark Box or Penalty Tank? I like Penalty Tank.
Smith: Meaningless semantics
Hood: SEMANTICS ARE NEVER MEANINGLESS
~Mathis motions like he’s about to kill Scruff. Lurrr jumps in, calming the big man down. The duo appear to acquiesce, giving into the match stip. Mathis steps off the apron and heads toward the PENALTY TANK. Scruff meets him there…he opens the door and Mathis steps in. It’s a tight fit but not an overly uncomfortable one. The door is shut and locked. Meyhu claps. The fans cheer. Scruff slides in and calls for the bell! Lurrr removes a flip flop and throws it at Meyhu. Meyhu dodges the flip flop while removing his LIME vest. Lurrr removes the second flip flop…he tosses it over his shoulder…it slaps into the water. These two legends seem at complete ease…given the battles they’ve endured throughout their careers, this should come as no surprise. Lurrr rotates both shoulders…he slaps each arm, ready to lock up. Meyhu takes his LIME vest and points it at Lurrr…the sun hits the vest and reflects back into Lurrr’s eyes. Lurrr turns his head, annoyed. Meyhu laughs…he encourages the fans to laugh…some do~
Smith: The personalities of both men are on full display early on.
Hood: Yep, it’s crazy how comfortable they are in this situation.
Smith: That’s what happens when you’ve been at the peak of your profession for decades.
~Meyhu drops the LIME vest onto the apron, apparently ready for combat. The two legends circle one another. Lurrr extends a hand…Meyhu follows suit. Lurrr backs away saying “Oh no!” Meyhu places his hands on his hips. Lurrr paces back and forth…Meyhu yells at Lurrr to ‘come on.’ Lurrr turns and nods, apparently ready this time. They near one another…Meyhu extends a hand this time. Lurrr looks at it and approaches…Meyhu spins away, arms outstretched, pointing at his head. Lurrr places his hands on his hips in the center of the ring, eyeing Meyhu~
Smith: These competitors are famous for bending, if not breaking the rules. They are arrogant but they are intelligent…they know neither man can be trusted.
Hood: Yep, Meyhu’s probably looking to poke Lurrr in the eye while Lurrr is hoping to kick Meyhu in the dick. These men don’t cut corners, they eviscerate them.
Smith: A complete lack of trust which currently delays the beginning of this match.
~Lurrr waits for Meyhu to stop posing. Once Meyhu finishes Lurrr yells, “Are you ready?” Meyhu flashes his signature cocky smirk and replies, “Calm down, old timer.” This fires Lurrr up. He heads toward Meyhu…Meyhu is prepared, realizing the comment would probably have that sort of impact. They two finally lock up! The fans pop! Meyhu takes Lurrr’s arm and spins around, bending it behind the HOF champion’s back. Lurrr lifts his free arm…Meyhu lets go and backs away, pointing at Lurrr while looking toward Scruff. Lurrr turns around like, ‘What the hell?’~
Smith: Meyhu saw a sharp elbow coming.
Hood: These two have ZERO faith in each other.
Smith: They EXPECT some form of cheating at every turn.
Hood: Victims of their past transgressions.
~Scruff asks Lurrr if he was going to use his elbow. Lurrr shrugs, not really seeing the big deal in all this. Meyhu steps forward, calming down. He puts his arms up…Lurrr does the same…they lock up for the second time! The crowd pops!! Lurrr takes Meyhu’s arm and starts to twist it. Meyhu reaches out, grabbing the back of Lurrr’s head. Lurrr releases and backs away, holding his head. Scruff runs in to see what’s going on. Lurrr does the exaggerated ‘HAIR PULL’ motion. Meyhu is perplexed…he yells out, “THERE’S NOT ENOUGH BACK THERE TO PULL!” Lurrr shakes his head, “Oh you son of a bitch.”~
Smith: Meyhu cutting Lurrr DEEP
Hood: I think the heat has been turned up a notch!
Smith: Indeed!
~The legends approach one another, angrier than before. They reach out…but both men go for each other’s eyes. We get a double eye rake!! Lurrr and Meyhu stumble back, holding their eyes. Each man tries to shake off the vision impairment before the other. Lurrr recovers first. He marches toward Meyhu and throws a kick at Meyhu’s groin…Meyhu catches his leg. Lurrr hops on one foot…Meyhu tries to poke Lurrr in the eye. Lurrr blocks Meyhu’s eye poke. Meyhu spins Lurrr around. Lurrr throws a mule kick right into Meyhu’s groin!!! Meyhu stumbles back, dropping to one knee, grimacing in pain. Lurrr leans against the corner, smiling and pointing at his head. He looks into the camera saying, “I’m the man!” Meyhu’s anger starts to rise~
Smith: Well, I guess we now know that Lurrr is the better cheater.
Hood: On this night, yes. But I refuse to believe The Marvel is second in anything!
Smith: Lurrr needs to stop bragging on himself, though. This match has barely begun.
Hood: Yea, he should probably let Mathis out or something.
~Lurrr spins around and lunges toward Meyhu with THE WAKE UP CALL! Meyhu rolls out of the way, sliding onto the apron. He pops to his feet, with the help of the ropes. Lurrr turns, facing Meyhu. Lurrr informs Meyhu how close he was to losing this legendary encounter. Meyhu leaps up, onto the top rope…he springboards off. Lurrr braces. Meyhu lands short, on purpose…Lurrr looks up, confused…Meyhu smacks Lurrr in the chin with a jab!! Lurrr stumbles into a corner. Meyhu looks at his right hand…he raises it high…the fans go wild! He marches toward Lurrr and begins peppering him with right hands! The fans chant “MEYHU! MEYHU!”~
Smith: And we’re off!! Meyhu is handing Lurrr some heavy fists!
Hood: He’s seeing LIME, Smith. He’s RAGING
Smith: Meyhu has to do everything in his power to end this before Lurrr can get to that Shark Box…or whatever we’re calling it. Mathis CANNOT be released.
Hood: Yea, Lurrr’s tough enough one on one…with Mathis involved Meyhu would likely be fucked.
~Meyhu reaches back for the final punch and BLASTS Lurrr across the face!! Lurrr’s body flies to its right…he’s half in, half out, hanging over the top rope. Meyhu grabs the HOF champ and drags him into the ring in the wheel barrow position. He tosses Lurrr up, onto his shoulders, transitioning into an Electric Chair. Lurrr reaches down and rakes Meyhu’s eyes!! The fans boo! Lurrr leans back looking for an inverted Frankensteiner…Meyhu leans forward, though, blocking it. He holds onto Lurrr’s legs and slings Lurrr forward with a reverse Alabama Slam!!! Lurrr’s face SLAMS into the ring!! He reaches for his face, kicking and writhing about~
Smith: Lurrr attempting to pull off a move he hasn’t used in years and, well, it backfired.
Hood: Not like he had much choice, Meyhu was about to slam him down.
Smith: True…it appears as though Lurrr’s best shot at winning this is Mathis.
Hood: Meyhu is a younger, more athletic version of Lurrr. But, does Meyhu have Lurrr’s killer instinct? Lurrr doesn’t mind crushing a man’s throat when he’s down.
~Meyhu stomps Lurrr in the back! Lurrr rolls over, arching his back in pain. Meyhu reaches down, grabbing Lurrr by the throat and pulling the original legend to his feet. Meyhu lifts Lurrr up and tosses him into a corner. Lurrr hits hard…he slumps…it’s clear this beating is wearing him down. Meyhu takes a few steps back…he charges in with a huge forearm uppercut…he DRILLS Lurrr!! Lurrr’s body jerks back, his legs fly into the air!! Meyhu grabs them, finding this a fortuitous occasion…he appears set for a powerbomb…but Lurrr leans back, over the top rope…he attempts to lock in a triangle. Meyhu leans over the top rope, unable to pull Lurrr back in, losing ground. Lurrr seems to be having trouble with the triangle, so he jams a thumb into Meyhu’s eye. Meyhu’s grip is all but lost…Lurrr swivels his hips, reversing his position…he drops to the outside floor, landing on his feet while raking Meyhu’s throat across the top rope!!! Meyhu stumbles backward, stunned. Lurrr leans against the apron, breathing heavily…he looks across the ring. He spots Mathis~
Smith: Lurrr keeps taking short cuts to balance things out.
Hood: He’s definitely on a higher level of cheating…at least as far as this match goes.
Smith: I think Lurrr feels he NEEDS to win this. If he loses…he loses his HOF Title and a shot at the OCW belt. It would leave him directionless.
Hood: That is true.
~Lurrr begins the walk across the ring. He’s pacing the metal grating, careful not to fall in (even though he’s totally dressed for it). Lurrr rounds the first corner. Meyhu manages to regain his 20/20 vision. He spots Lurrr heading for Mathis. Meyhu rushes toward the corner nearest the Shark Box! He climbs to the top rope. Lurrr rounds that corner and steps within a few feet from Mathis. Mathis turns around, looking at Lurrr from within the Penalty Tank. He looks up. Lurrr swallows hard and looks up…down comes Meyhu with a huge DOUBLE AXE HANDLE!! Lurrr’s body falters into the Penalty Tank!! Meyhu nearly falls into the pool, but manages to regain full control of his body…he hustles over and knees Lurrr in the gut. He slams the back of Lurrr’s head into the Box. Mathis glares down at Meyhu from inside…it’s clear if Mathis is freed that he will do some serious harm to THE MEYHU~
Smith: So close, yet so far away.
Hood: Yea, Mathis is ENRAGED. But, he’s also caged…kinda like an angry animal at the zoo. Can’t do shit from within.
Smith: It’s worth repeating that Meyhu must not allow Lurrr an opportunity to release Mathis.
~Meyhu grabs Lurrr by the head and wedges his face into the BOX. He’s showing the battered visage to Mathis. Mathis slams his fists against the Box in anger. The structure holds up. Meyhu rolls his eyes at Mathis and throws Lurrr back into the ring. Meyhu slides in. He pops to his feet, waiting for Lurrr to rise. Lurrr does…Meyhu lunges forward, hooking him for Ego Trip!! Lurrr elbows Meyhu in the ear!! Meyhu stumbles to the side, releasing the grip. Lurrr falters into the ropes. He gathers himself and throws THE WAKE UP CALL…but Meyhu catches the leg. He throws it to the side…Lurrr uses the momentum to spin around, jump up and hit Meyhu in the head with a roundhouse kick!!! Meyhu falls to his knees before collapsing front first on the mat. Both men are down~
Smith: Lurrr has retained some agility throughout the years. That’s nice to see!
Hood: He’s not in a walker yet, Smith. He’s at least five years away from being pushed around by Mathis.
Smith: Would a walker prevent Lurrr from making a return?
Hood: Probably not…although he might have to change his move set up, a bit.
~Meyhu pushes up, getting to his knees. Lurrr tries a nip up…but he’s unable to pull it off. He winces and rolls over, getting to his feet the old fashioned way. Meyhu gets to one knee. Lurrr walks over, grabbing Meyhu’s head…he looks for the clinch. He throws a knee at Meyhu’s face…but Meyhu rises and lifts Lurrr off the mat. Meyhu charges forward, placing Lurrr on the top buckle. Lurrr punches Meyhu in the forehead. The Marvel stumbles back. Lurrr leaps off the second buckle…Meyhu catches Lurrr across his shoulders. He spins Lurrr around…but Lurrr turns the potential F-5 into a DDT!!! Meyhu’s head hits hard!!! Lurrr sits up and crawls over Meyhu, heading for Mathis~
Smith: Tremendous counter by Lurrr! He’s got Meyhu down and Mathis isn’t too far away!
Hood: Lurrr remains crafty…the guy’s done well to hang in there with Meyhu up to this point.
Smith: Indeed
~Lurrr crawls for the ropes. He takes a breath. He hands his chest and arms over the bottom rope…a smile creases his face. He starts to crawl out of the ring…but he finds some resistance…like a shark grabbing at his leg. He turns around to see a standing Meyhu holding onto his leg. Lurrr reaches and claws at the apron as Meyhu yanks back. Lurrr’s face becomes panicked. He reaches for the bottom rope. Meyhu yanks back as hard as he can…Lurrr loses his grip and flies into the air, landing hard front first on the mat. He bounces and winds up laying chest first across the middle rope. Meyhu sees Mathis staring right into the drowsy eyes of his employer. Salt in the wound…must be rubbed! Meyhu charges forward, looking for a 619! Meyhu swings around like a cruiserweight…his legs rotate toward Lurrr. Lurrr rolls out of the way!! Meyhu winds up sitting atop the middle rope, facing inside the ring. Lurrr nips up!!! He did it!! He lunges forward and BLASTS Meyhu in the face with The Wake Up Call!!! Meyhu’s body shoots off the middle rope and SLAMS into the side of the Penalty Tank!!! He winds up wedged, uncomfortably, between the tank and the ring. Lurrr steps through the ropes and hops onto the metal grating. He reaches for the tank and unlocks the door! Mathis emerges~
Smith: Uh oh
Hood: Here comes Mathis!
Smith: Meyhu’s arrogance got the better of him. He should have pulled Lurrr back into the ring and tried something more within his wheel house.
Hood: Well, in Meyhu’s defense, he’s good at everything.
~Mathis emerges. Lurrr yells “BREAK THAT PIECE OF SHIT IN HALF!” He proceeds to hop inside the tank and shut the door. He sits down, leaning his back against the tank, rubbing his back and neck, taking a breather. The fans boo. Mathis…now, apparently the legal man, slides into the ring. His seven foot frame stands tall…he grabs Meyhu’s feet and drags him into the ring under the bottom rope. He decides to go for a pin. Scruff drops down, making the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Rick Mathis is legal, folks.
Hood: Was that explained earlier?
Smith: Kinda?
Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY
~Mathis pummels Meyhu in the head, rewarding him for his kick out efforts. He yanks The Marvel to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Meyhu bounces off and receives a BIG BOOT to the face. The Marvel nearly turns inside out before hitting the mat in a painful manner. Mathis walks over, places his boot into Meyhu’s stomach and steps over him. Meyhu coughs and curls up, kicking his legs in pain~
Smith: I know Lurrr earned the right to pick a stipulation but I mean…come on! Not only is Mathis a mountain of a man but Meyhu’s been wrestling for nearly twenty minutes!
Hood: Has it been that long?
Smith: Give or take.
Hood: Yea well Meyhu should have beat the clock. Sadly, he was no match for FATHER TIME.
~Mathis snares Meyhu by the neck, yanking the Marvel to his feet. Meyhu fights back!! He throws some lefts and rights into Rick’s hulking chest. Mathis lifts a knee into Meyhu’s gut, stifling his comeback. The fans are crestfallen. Mathis hoists Meyhu up and DRILLS him into the mat. He looks eager to pin the Marvel when a pounding is hear. Mathis turns to see Lurrr beating on the glass yelling “ALRIGHT, I’M READY!” Mathis heads over…he steps over the top rope and hops to the metal grating, releasing Lurrr. He tries to re-enter but Lurrr restrains him~
Smith: So, this is how it’s going to be.
Hood: Yep, Lurrr’s the ICON, Smith. He deserves the glory.
Smith: They could at least put Mathis back in the tank…box…whatever!
Hood: Why? He’s there for emotional support.
~Lurrr slides into the ring while Mathis steps over the top rope. Meyhu tries sitting up but it appears as though he’s unable. Lurrr charges forward and blasts Meyhu in the face with a kick, flattening him out. Lurrr gets on top of The Marvel for a pin. Scruff slides in with the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Meyhu keeps fighting!
Hood: Of course…he’s got to fill up that trophy room with the lime lighting!
Smith: Such hubris
~Lurrr yells at Mathis “HOLD HIS LEGS!” Mathis does as commanded. Lurrr tries another pin~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP!
Smith: Lurrr’s having trouble keeping The Marvel down.
Hood: It may take a little while longer but he’ll get there. Lurrr pinned ANDY MURRAY.
Smith: Well, yes, he did do that many years ago.
~Lurrr is growing highly impatient. He yells at Mathis “HOLD ONTO HIS FUCKING SHOULDERS!” Mathis scrambles toward Meyhu’s upper body and holds his shoulder’s down. Scruff makes the count as Lurrr makes his third attempt at scoring the decisive pin~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!
Smith: Lurrr is realizing what so many in OCW have come to realize over these past few years…Matt Meyhu is as unbeatable as they come.
Hood: He’s truly a Marvel.
Smith: Yep, if Lurrr wants to topple Mount Meyhu he’s going to have to beat him within an inch of his life.
Hood: A task easier said than done.
~Lurrr looks at Mathis, insinuating the big man fucked up. Mathis stands and stomps on Meyhu. Lurrr delivers a flurry of right fists into Meyhu’s head saying “STAY THE FUCK DOWN!” He stands. Meyhu rolls onto his side, gasping for breath. Lurrr turns his back to Mathis and yells, ‘PICK HIS ASS UP!’ Mathis does as commanded. Meyhu leans into Mathis. Lurrr coils…he gets ready…it’s time for THE WAKE UP CALL. Mathis turns Meyhu around, positioning him. Lurrr springs forward! Meyhu moves!! Mathis catches Lurrr’s leg, avoiding disaster. He lets go. Lurrr runs around and his DRILLED with a huge clothesline from Meyhu!!! Lurrr’s body slams into Mathis!! Both men hit the corner. Meyhu drops to one knee, breathing heavily…that Texas sun is getting to him. His hair is drenched. He pops up, though…the fans begin chanting “MEYHU!” He fires up and runs toward the opposite corner…he turns around…sprints forward and LEAPS into the air with a huge splash, sandwiching both Lurrr and Mathis!!! The fans go wild!! Meyhu leans over the ropes, showing lingering fatigue. Lurrr drops to the mat while Mathis stumbles forward~
Smith: Meyhu is fighting back!
Hood: You knew it was only a matter of time! Meyhu won’t go down without a fight!
Smith: But can he keep this up…he’s fighting TWO men.
Hood: If it were anyone other than the Marvel…I’d have my doubts.
~Meyhu stands up straight, wiping sweat from his brow. Lurrr rolls over, on the mat. He sees Meyhu…The Marvel stalks Lurrr...anger plastered across his face. Lurrr puts his hands up and tries pleading with Meyhu. The Marvel is about to reach Lurrr when the 18-Wheeler known as Rick Mathis runs him over!!! Meyhu collapses to the ground. Lurrr rolls out of the ring and crawls into the tank, shutting the door~
Smith: And Lurrr goes back into hiding…ugh.
Hood: It’s smart…he pals around with Mathis for one reason and one reason only – backup.
Smith: You’d think he’d want to get in there and PROVE, one on one, that he’s better than Meyhu.
Hood: Then what the fuck was BEAT THE CLOCK for? Get your head out of your ass, Smith!
~Rick yanks Meyhu up, grabs him by the throat with both hands and tosses him into a corner. Meyhu hits HARD. Mathis charges in and blasts Meyhu in the head with an elbow. Mathis takes a few steps back and charges in a second time throwing a big boot across Meyhu’s face. He whips Meyhu across the ring…The Marvel SLAMS into the opposite corner. Lurrr, still seated in the tank, looks on with approval. Mathis picks up a head of steam and charges forward. He extends his arms, looking to CRUSH Meyhu with his FORCE (mass times acceleration, folks). Mathis has a HUGE head of steam. He crashes toward Meyhu…but the Marvel moves!!! Mathis SLAMS into the ring!! The entire structure shakes, creating waves in the pool. Lurrr jumps to his feet and braces his position within the box, looking around nervously. Mathis leans over the top buckle, wincing in pain. Meyhu is on all fours, trying to get to his feet~
Smith: HUGE impact absorbed by Mathis!
Hood: Big idiot! What the fuck?
Smith: I know Mathis is big but he isn’t NEAR the competitor Meyhu is. This could be the break all the MARVEL fans were looking for!
Hood: I know some twerp down in Louisiana is going crazy right now!
~Lurrr reaches for the door…he realizes it’s locked. For whatever reason this factoid failed to resonate. He slams his fists into the door and turns toward the ring yelling, “MATHIS! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Meyhu stands, eyeing the suddenly anxious Lurrr. The sweaty, beaten Meyhu flashes a smile. He turns, focusing on Rick. Rick slowly turns…Meyhu hits him with HUBRIS!!!! Mathis stumbles into the corner...his arms flail over the top rope…it’s the only thing keeping him upright! The fans are going wild! Lurrr runs his hands over his head…he slams on the door with both fists~
Smith: Lurrr’s in trouble!
Hood: Fucking hell…he could lose his HOF Title without being pinned!
Smith: Bet he never thought of that.
~A loud BANG is heard! Lurrr delivers WAKE UP CALL to the door of the tank. It remains shut. Meyhu drives a knee into Rick’s gut. He drags the big man out of the corner. Another BANG! Lurrr hits the door with a second WAKE UP CALL! It’s dented and bending. Meyhu hooks Mathis…he drops him with EGO TRIP!!!! The crowd goes wild!! BANG!! Lurrr KICKS the door open. Scruff slides in for the count as Meyhu makes the cover~
1!
2!
3!
NO!!!
Smith: Lurrr got there JUST in time!
Hood: The old man can still move when he needs to!
~Lurrr, indeed, got there just in time with a double axe handle to the back of Meyhu’s head. He drags Meyhu to his feet and slugs him in the gut with a right hand. He delivers a forearm uppercut to The Marvel. Meyhu leans against the ropes. Mathis rolls out of the way, near the ropes, regaining his breath. Lurrr delivers a huge chop. He whips Meyhu off the ropes…Meyhu reverses…he catches Lurrr for The Ego Trip!!! Lurrr smashes Meyhu with some elbows! Meyhu loses his grip. Lurrr throws THE WAKE UP CALL at the side of Meyhu’s head. Meyhu ducks and hoists Lurrr onto his shoulders. He turns to drop Lurrr on his head with a DVD…but Mathis has risen!!! Mathis BOOTS Meyhu in the face!!! The Marvel falls backwards…Mathis reaches out, catching Lurrr before he can hit the ground. Meyhu hits HARD…the fans boo as Mathis puts Lurrr down…the two men stand over Meyhu~
Smith: The number advantage is too much.
Hood: That’s why Lurrr is the greatest of all time, Smith. He’s good AND smart.
Smith: He’s certainly maneuvered his odds of winning this match into a great position.
~Lurrr looks down at Meyhu. He says, “This fucking guy is indestructible.” He turns toward Mathis. The big man is tired. Lurrr pats him on the back, “One more big move, buddy. Let’s end this guy once and for all.” Lurrr points toward the top of the tank. The crowd gasps. Meyhu tries to sit up but Lurrr kicks him in the face, keeping him down. Mathis heads for the tank~
Smith: What do they have planned? Surely…
Hood: Mathis is going to the TOP OF THE TANK!
Smith: Can that structure HOLD him?
Hood: Oh for sure
~Mathis climbs the ropes, steadying his body by reaching out and placing his palms on the side of the tank. He reaches the top rope and springboards off, slightly…as much as a man of his size can do without losing his balance. He pulls himself atop the tank. The visual is striking. He’s King Kong atop the empire state building. Lurrr pulls Meyhu to his feet. Meyhu pushes Lurrr and throws a huge right hand. Lurrr ducks!! Meyhu spins around and eats a flying knee to the chin!!! He stumbles back into the ropes nearest the tank. Lurrr looks up at Mathis. Mathis lays down, on his belly, reaching over the side with his long, muscular arms. Lurrr hoists Meyhu up for a POWERBOMB. Mathis grabs Meyhu under the arms and utilizes every fuckin muscle in his body to get the man atop the tank. Lurrr steps aside, looking up with an eager grin. The fans rise. They buzz. People chew on their fingernails…true fear permeates New Braunfels, Texas…fear over the well-being of Meyhu~
Smith: Oh no…not from up there. Don’t do it!!
Hood: It’s time to END The Marvel.
Smith: Kick him and pin him, Lurrr. Be done with it…don’t ruin this man’s career!
Hood: You’re such a fucking pussy! I bet Vargas is so HYPE right now.
~Mathis stands atop the tank. He’s got Meyhu in position. Lurrr yells “THROW HIM DOWN!” Mathis lifts Meyhu up for a Jacknife Powerbomb. He lifts him up, ready to drop Meyhu all the way to the ring. Meyhu, though, wraps his legs around Rick’s head and halfway down turns it into a FRANKENSTEINER!!!! Mathis flips over and SLAMS INTO THE MAT!! Meyhu, somehow, lands on his feet…his knees buckle, both of them. He nearly falls forward….but he fights through the sudden pain and slowly looks over at Lurrr. Lurrr is in shock. The fans chant “HOLY SHIT!”~
Smith: The Marvel!!!
Hood: What…the…fuck
~Lurrr does the only thing he can think to do…he throws THE WAKE UP CALL! Meyhu stumbles forward, ducking. His knees appear shot. But he’s fighting through it. Lurrr turns around…Meyhu grabs him for EGO TRIP!! Lurrr elbows Meyhu in his ear. Meyhu loses his hold. Lurrr steps back and forward again with THE WAKE UP CALL! Meyhu GRABS his leg!!! He informs Lurrr “I’M THE MAN NOW!” He pulls Lurrr in and drops him with EGO TRIP!!!! The place explodes!!! Meyhu covers Lurrr…Scruff slides in~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings! The fans go wild~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…AND NEW OCW HALL OF FAME CHAMPION…“THE MARVEL” MATT MEYHU!!!!!
Smith: He did it!!! Meyhu overcame the odds and has earned OCW’s hardest title to achieve!
Hood: But at what cost? That landing…his knees…
Smith: He may have some torn ligaments…but the fighter within him would not succumb. What a champion! He truly is a marvel!
~Lurrr and Mathis roll out of the ring. Scruff hands Meyhu the HOF Title. He holds it high and proud!!! The fans give him a huge ovation. Meyhu limps around the ring…he finally takes a seat and looks up at Scruff saying something about his legs being gone. Scruff turns and motions with the ‘X’~
Smith: It’s true…he’s done damage to both knees.
Hood: You know you’ve given it your all when you literally cannot WALK to the back.
Smith: Indeed
~The KNIFE MAN heads down the walk way. He gets a jovial ovation from the crowd. He saunters with more swag than usual. He reaches the ring, marches up the steps and enters into the ring. He’s holding that giant KNIFE, waving it around as though it were innocuous~
Smith: The medic SLASH mechanic out here to help Meyhu to the back.
Hood: It wouldn’t be a PPV without his goofy ass making an appearance.
~The Knife Man bends down to inspect Meyhu’s knees. Meyhu leans back with cautious trust. The Knife Man begins PUMMELING Meyhu’s knees!! The fans are shocked! Scruff runs in, but the Knife Man throws him back. Meyhu rolls over, clutching his knees in pain. The Knife Man rises~
Smith: What the…THE KNIFE MAN HAS SNAPPED
Hood: Wait a minute…is that REALLY The Knife Man? He wears a mask, ya know
~The mask is removed to reveal…MACK O’CONNOR!! The fans BOOO. Mack grabs Meyhu by the legs…he turns him around and applies a sharpshooter!!! Meyhu snares the bottom rope, grimacing in pain. He yells for someone…anyone to get Mack off him. Mack refuses to let go…he seems to be enjoying the torture~
Smith: That man is a sadist!! Meyhu just finished a WAR against Lurrr and this is his prize?
Hood: His prize was the HOF Title, Smith. This is Pro Rasslin!
~Lurrr slides into the ring!! He shoves Mack off of Meyhu. Mack stands, extending his arms. Lurrr kicks the giant KNIFE out of the ring. Mack shoves Lurrr. Lurrr is pissed…he says something about respecting a fellow Hall of Famer who just went through war. Mack shoves Lurrr again. Lurrr smiles…it’s a “fuck this guy” smile. He turns and punches Mack! Mack punches back!! OCW security hits the ring!! They pull the two men apart!!!~
Smith: Good for Lurrr…I’ve been against him all night but that…that was good of him.
Hood: He’s a dick but he respects this company. He respects the legacy…the history…and now, he respects Matt Meyhu.
~Lurrr and Mathis storm off. Lurrr is furious. Mack is restrained and removed. The REAL Knife Man hits the ring along with several medics. They tend to Meyhu who continues clutching his knees~
Smith: I don’t like to speculate but I think Meyhu’s knees have suffered extensive damage.
Hood: I mean, the dude was due a break…but not like this.
Smith: Indeed.
Got used, smoked dope, paid dues
Refused to give up quick,
Now theres 10 million motherfuckers on my dick
Who’re: Mario, tonight you take on your former best friends in Silver Cyanide & Paul Paras in a Texas Death Match. Do you have any final thoughts?
~Mario sits in silence as he finishes taping up his hands. He alternates punching is left and then right hands to test out the tape job. Once the job has been completed he turns his attention towards Who’re and her question.~
Mario Maurako: Cyanide and Paras, it has been a long road that we’ve been on, and tonight it comes to a head. In a few short minutes we will meet, blood will be spilled, and careers will be ended.
Who’re: How do you prepare for a match with guys who know you as well as Cyanide and Paras know you?
Mario Maurako: First of all that’s pretty easy. Paras & Cyanide don’t know me like they think they do. Over the last twenty years; we’ve had times of lots of laughter, and they felt they understood me. We were carefree, open and honest. We lived easy, kind and true. And for years they never doubted that we were altogether fine. Then I made the changes painfully clear and now they know, they never really knew my mind.
Who’re: On a professional level though, they’ve worked with you very closely for twenty years. They know your moves-
Mario Maurako: They know nothing! I’ve added some new moves to my arsenal, and I’m going to go out there and prove that I’m a stranger to them. But I do have to admit, sometimes, they’re a stranger to me. Sometimes, maybe all the time. I just said that Paras & Cyanide never really knew my mind. But then again, I never really knew their mind.
Who’re: It’s been said that you’re the most passionate about this business. How important is this match to you personally?
~Mario stands up from the bench and he looks Who’re right square in the eyes.~
Mario Maurako: I used to think that winning the OCW Championship meant everything to me. Now, I know that it doesn’t. Beating Paul Paras & Silver Cyanide means everything to me. Tonight, I’m going to go out there, and I’m going to kill my “best friends”, or I’m going to die trying.
~Without another word Mario Maurako turns and exits the changing area to head to Gruene Hall.~
Who’re: Let’s get back to ringside and ready for this Texas Death Match.
~An ominous vibe permeates the OCW fanbase at Schlitterbahn and watching at home. We cut directly to Gruene Hall. The mood has grown serious, dark, and dim. It’s time for the Texas Death Match~
Triple Threat
Texas Death Match
Paul Paras (15-1) vs. Mario Maurako (11-6) vs. Silver Cyanide (4-3)
~We cut back to GRUENE HALL for the final time this evening. It’s been witness to unspeakable amounts of violence. The most violent altercation, however, may be yet to come. A match that runs thicker than Ulysses. Every fan in and around Gruene Hall are standing…they are buzzing (in every imaginable fashion). People attend these events for some matches more than others…this is as marquee as they come. This is a match people travel across countries to witness live. Arguably the greatest match in OCW history has arrived. Belvedere’s voice echoes throughout the locale. The fans can barely contain their anxious excitement~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…the following contest is a Texas Death Match!
~The crowd goes wild! “YES! YES! YES!”~
Belvedere: In order to win, one competitor must render a competitor so incapacitated that they are not only pinned but down for a full ten count. The first competitor to do this will be declared the winner! Introducing first…
FEEL GOO—FEEL GOO—FEEL GOO—FFFFFFFFFFF
~We cut to outside Gruene Hall. Silver Cyanide is seen making his way through the fans. He’s carrying a HOCKEY STICK. Most of the fans look at the stick with confused expressions. This is Texas, after all. Hockey is pretty foreign to these people. A few who do recognize it frown and fold their arms, murmuring stuff like, “THAT AIN’T RIGHT.” Cyanide walks past the two guards and heads for the ring. He hops over the metal railing and slides into the ring~
Belvedere: From Boston, Massachusetts…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 220lbs…he is a former OCW Champion…he’s in the OCW Hall of Fame…he is…Silver Cyanide!!!
~A strong POP for Cyanide. He waves his hockey stick around…this lowers the pop somewhat. Cyanide leans back, awaiting his competition. He seems like a man happy to have retained his soul~
Smith: Good to see Cyanide back in action.
Hood: How do we know that isn’t a look a like? Maybe Cyanide died at Social Justice and this is simply a stunt double…
Smith: That’s stupid
Hood: Or…is it really clever?
~King of the World by War*Hall hits. BOOOS consume Gruene Hall. Cyanide continues to play with his hockey stick, giving Mario no attention. Fans turn, expecting King Maurako…instead it appears as though they are getting COWBOY Maurako. He’s dressed in his cowboy getup, carrying a Texas Bull Rope and his Ultimate Iron 2x4. He marches directly for the entrance. The guards manning the entry quickly part, eyeing that 2x4 and it’s very dangerous structure. Mario enters and points the 2x4 at the ring. Cyanide shakes his hockey stick at Mario. Mario rolls his eyes, finding Cyanide’s antics to be a bit cartoonish. He hops over the guard rail and paces around, outside the ring~
Belvedere: From Minneapolis, Minnesota…standing 6’2 and weighing in at 265lbs…he is a two time OCW Hall of Famer…he is Mario Maurako!!!
Smith: Well, Mario certainly came prepared.
Hood: A bullrope for Cyanide and that 2x4 for Mr. Zenmaster
Smith: He’s done a lot of sinning these past few months…it might be time for atonement.
Hood: Or he’ll just continue living a successful, godless lifestyle.
~"It Doesn't Seem to Matter" by Army of Anyone fills the Texas skyline as former OCW Champion, Paul Paras is set to make his entrance. Mario leans against the corner of the barricade, keeping his distance. Cyanide remains in the ring, twirling his hockey stick around. Paul Paras walks through the fans, heading toward Gruene Hall. He’s carrying a Kendo Stick. Fans reach out and pat him on the back, showing their respect and support for one of the greatest competitors in company history. Paras respectfully waits for the guards to permit entry…they do so and he steps into Gruene Hall. He looks around, taking in the ambiance. He spots Cyanide…he then sees Maurako…he appears less happy…but more eager to see Mario than Cyanide. He climbs over the guard rail, hustles up the steps and enters into the ring~
Belvedere: From Minneapolis, Minnesota…standing 6’3 and weighing in at 251lbs…he is a former two time OCW Champion…he is a two time Hall of Famer…he is arguably the greatest wrestler in OCW history…he is Paul Paras!!!
~A huge ovation for Paras. Paras stands across the ring from Cyanide. Gruff, tasked with handling the match, motion for Mario to enter. Mario wants Paul to move before he enters. Paul, ready for this thing to get started, gives way…he moves from one corner to the next, placing him closer to Cyanide. Mario steps into the ring, appeased. The fans boo. The bell rings~
Smith: And here we go!
Hood: Mario getting his way as usual.
Smith: I’m sick and tired of Mario’s attitude. He calls these guys brothers yet he treats them worse than slaves.
Hood: That’s a little harsh.
Smith: He tried to murder Cyanide via hanging AND he helped cost Paras his OCW Title.
Hood: Well, when you lay it out like that…
~Paras looks at Cyanide. Cyanide looks back at Paras. They nod and then charge at Mario. Mario’s eyes widen. He tries to use his 2x4 as a weapon, but the bullrope gets caught on it, creating a tangled situation. Cyanide and Paras reach Mario and begin taking turns beating him with their weapons. First a kendo shot…then a hockey stick to the back!! It’s back and forth back and forth…the fans are going wild! They are chanting “YES! YES!” Mario falls to his knees…Cyanide hooks him around the throat with the hockey stick. Paul measures Mario up and unleashes a flurry of kendo shots to Mario’s head!!! The cowboy hat flies off, out of the ring. His vest is all messed up. Pieces of the kendo stick fly into the air…Paul is in a frenzy. Even Cyanide looks on like, “This…is excessive.”~
Smith: Payback for Mario Maurako!
Hood: Damn…you know you might be going over board when they guy who was hanged thinks it might be too much.
Smith: Mario had to see this coming…if he didn’t, then his arrogance blinds him more than I imagined.
Hood: Yea, yea…this is all great. The fans can sit there and pleasure themselves to what they are seeing…but the fact remains only ONE person can win. This Paras/Cyanide alliance will be short lived.
~After awhile Paras realizes there’s nothing left of his Kendo Stick…just a few loose strands. He tosses it aside. Cyanide unhooks Mario…Maurako falls to the mat, limply. Cyanide kicks Mario’s bullrope and 2x4 out of the ring. He motions toward Paul, with an idea. Paul, catching what Cyanide is saying, nods. AgCN picks Mario up and hooks him for Silver Lining (STO). He drags a near lifeless Mario into the center of the ring. Paul hits the ropes…he bounces off and leaps into the air with ACID TEST!! He this Mario right in the face!! Cyanide takes Mario down with Silver Lining in a near simultaneous combination!!! Mario hits the mat, hard!! He’s out. Cyanide goes for the cover~
1!
2!
NO!
Smith: And here we go…
Hood: I told ya.
~Paras pulls Cyanide off of Mario. Cyanide pops to his feet, arms outstretched as if to say, “What’s the deal?” Paras walks closer to Cyanide. He explains his position. Cyanide seems agitated. He talks AT Paras, rather than TO Paras. He pokes Paul in the chest while motioning around his throat, perhaps referencing the hanging from a few months ago. Paul motions around his waist…definitely referencing his missing OCW Title. Mario rolls over, reaching for their feet in desperation. Both men turn downward…the grab Mario and toss him over the top rope!! Mario flips over, hits the apron and lands roughly on the outside. The fans go wild~
Smith: Take that, Mario!
Hood: Guy is fucking done and we’re not even five minutes into this match!
Smith: Payback’s are heck, Hood! This is what you get, Mario for being a royal jerk!
Hood: There’s still time. Maybe we can get a defibrillator out here and fire the guy up!
~Paras is watching Mario…perhaps lingering too long. Cyanide, behind Paul, surreptitiously heads for his hockey stick. He picks it up and turns toward Paul. He slowly brings the stick back. Paul suddenly turns around. Cyanide is caught…he’s not in a position to hit Paras hard enough to make a difference so, he tries to play it off. Paul shakes his head. Cyanide carefully places the stick down, trying to show Paul that he comes in peace. Paul kicks the stick away and charges at Cyanide with left and right jabs!! The fans pop! Cyanide’s head bounces left and right from the jabs. He falters into a corner. Paul administers a few knife edged chops, abusing the bare chest of Cyanide. He delivers a hip toss, sending Cyanide into the center of the ring. Cyanide arches his back in pain before crawling toward the nearest corner and wrapping his arms around the bottom buckle. Paras drags him away, back toward the center of the mat. He flips Cyanide onto his back and bends down, looking to apply some sort of leg hold. Cyanide, using his free leg, manages to sneak a kick into Paul’s jaw. Paras is stunned. Cyanide kicks him again…and then a third time…Paul releases his grip and falls back into the ropes. Cyanide hurries to his feet. He looks at the hockey stick…then at Paul. He does the math and leaves the hockey stick alone, choosing to charge at Paul with a clothesline. Paul ducks and lifts Cyanide into the air! Cyanide lands on the apron, standing. He thumbs Paul in the back of the head with his middle finger. Paul, annoyed, turns around…Cyanide, with the aid of the ropes, kicks his right leg up and smacks Paul in the face. Paras stumbles back. Cyanide jumps up, springboards off the top and dropkicks Paul!! Paras hits the mat and rolls across the ring, under the bottom rope and onto the apron~
Smith: Cyanide getting the better of Paul at this point.
Hood: Using that quickness.
Smith: Indeed…Cyanide may not be ‘small’ in this age of wrestling but back in the early 2000s he was considered a lightweight.
Hood: Dude, I saw him at a local bar last night. Guy’s STILL a lightweight.
~Cyanide is back on his feet, heading for the hockey stick. He snares it from the mat and holds the FOREIGN object high in the air. The fans are either angry or confused. He pulls it down and admires the tape job. He spins around. Paras reaches his feet on the apron. Cyande lunges at Paul with a roaring hockey stick! Paras ducks! Cyanide whiffs! Paul hooks AgCN in a full nelson. The hockey stick falls to the mat. Paras looks over his shoulder…the fans rise with that ‘oh shit’ vibe~
Smith: A Dragon Suplex! He’s going to throw Cyanide out of the ring and onto his head with a Dragon Suplex!
Hood: That’ll hurt him as much as it hurts Cyanide. I thought Paras was supposed to be smart.
Smith: There’s so much emotion in this match, Hood. I don’t think any of these men are thinking straight.
~Paras prepares to life Cyanide. But, Cyanide throws his head back, smashing Paras in the face!! Paul releases Cyanide’s arms and drops off the apron. Cyanide charges across the ring…he hits the ropes, bounces off…he runs forward and dives through the ropes into Paul!! The two men CRASH into the skinny, metal barricade!! Fans at ringside scatter. Cyanide lands on his feet. Paul remains on his, reaching for his back after impact. Cyanide delivers chop and punch combos to Paul, keeping him pinned against the guard rail~
Smith: Cyanide averts disaster and potential injury!
Hood: He looks good, Smith. He’s out to this early lead looking like the Cyanide who put wrestlers like Andy Murray and Silverfreak to shame!
Smith: Did he…beat Silverfreak?
Hood: Oh, I’m pretty sure he did. For the sake of this match we’ll say it’s confirmed.
Smith: Well, okay then
~Cyanide ceases with the knife/punch combos. Paras leans into AgCN, tired and reeling from the punishment. Cyanide knees Paul in the gut. He hooks Paras, hoists him up and drops him on his head with a Fisherman’s Brainbuster!!! Paul is down and out. Cyanide pops back to his feet and slides into the ring, seeking his hockey stick~
Smith: Paras is down…Mario is down…Cyanide is in total control!
Hood: The longshot has the lead, Smith! Can he hold on?
Smith: That remains to be seen!
~Outside the ring we see the wrecked body of Mario Maurako climb over the steps. He spots Paul. He crawls over toward his longtime tag partner and (former?) best friend. He pats Paul on the chest while looking into the ring. Cyanide has his hockey stick and is holding it high in the air, his back to Paul and Mario. Paul looks up at Mario and reacts violently, pulling away. Mario tries to calm him down…he points at Cyanide. Paras seems to be listening…perhaps being dropped on his head eliminated his bullshit detector. Regardless, he is hearing Mario out~
Smith: Do not let that man’s poison corrupt you, Paul!
Hood: These guys have been through so many wars together, Smith. How could he not at least hear Mario out?
Smith: Because Mario is a different man these days, Hood. He’s no longer that trustworthy partner Paras teamed with for so many years.
Hood: That maybe true…but it may not hurt, in this moment, to team up one last time and derail Cyanide’s momentum. A guy like Cyanide could be unbeatable with a big enough lead.
~Mario pats Paras on the chest. He seems to think they’ve reached an agreement. Paul, however, doesn’t look quite as convinced. Mario crawls toward the ring, hiding behind the curtain hanging off the apron. Cyanide turns around and sees Paras seated against the guardrail. That means it’s time to go back to work. He leaps over the top rope all the way to the floor with great agility. He stands over Paul with his hockey stick. Paras looks up…he winces. Mario comes flying out from under the ring apron, spearing Cyanide from behind!!! Cyanide is crushed, front first into the guardrail. Paras moves away just in time~
Smith: What a spear!
Hood: Mario fucked Cyanide up!
Smith: I guess they are working together, Hood.
Hood: Well, maybe…I still need visual confirmation.
~Mario clobbers Cyanide in the back with a huge forearm. He yells something at Paul. Paras struggles to his feet. Mario hoists Cyanide up, over his head in the press slam position. The fans rise, excited. Paul nods. Mario tosses Cyanide up and Paras catches him on the way down with a diamond cutter!!! The fans go CRAZY!!! “PM! PM! PM!”~
Smith: They just hit Jackpot! I haven’t seen that move in years!
Hood: Holy shit! They hit it better than ever!
Smith: And that neck of Cyanide’s…it took the brunt of the blow.
Hood: That’s what he gets for liking hockey.
~Mario flexes his biceps, feeding off the crowd’s energy. It’s almost as though he’s experiencing a bit of nostalgia. Paul pops back to his feet. Mario turns to find Paul. As soon as he does, Paul runs him over with a huge lariat!!! Mario hits the floor, hard! The fans quiet for a minute…it’s almost like they want to boo…but then their brains kick back into gear and they cheer The Perfect One. Paras leans over the guardrail, catching his breath. Cyanide is face down, lifeless. Mario is on his back, wincing in pain~
Smith: There you go, Paul! Don’t trust that man! Preemptive strike!
Hood: What a jerk! Let the record show that Paul killed Perfectly Marvelous!
Smith: That is some SERIOUSLY FAKE NEWS
~Mario sits up, trying to reach his feet. Paras, regaining his wind and composure, heads over toward his former tag team partner. He kicks Mario in the back, hard. Mario arches his back and reaches forward, snaring the apron cloth…he uses it to get to his knees. Paul spots the 2x4 Mario brought with him to the ring. He reaches over the steps, grabbing hold. He looks at it, then at Mario~
Smith: Is Paul going to venture out of character and use that thing?
Hood: Hey, you do what you gotta do, Smith.
Smith: Yes but I think he can beat Mario without the use of a weapon.
Hood: The fuck are you talking about, anyway? He already murdered the guy with a kendo stick.
Smith: Well, yes, that is true.
~Paul swings the 2x4 at Mario, who is leaning over the apron. Mario moves!! The 2x4 bites into the apron. Paul has trouble removing it. Mario punches Paul across the face!! Paras staggers to his side, into the steps. He nearly trips over them…to avoid falling, he stumbles to his side and into the barricade. Mario yanks the 2x4 out of the canvas and carries it toward Paul. Mario seems pretty damn angry that Paul stole Mario’s thunder by turning first after hitting Cyanide with Jackpot. He charges at Paul with the 2x4 acting as a battering ram. Paras ducks and hoists Mario up and over the guardrail!! Fans scatter! Mario hits HARD on the wood floor!! He drops the 2x4 and opens his mouth, gasping for air. Paul steps over the guard rail and looks down at the 2x4. He kicks it aside and drops to his knees, pummeling Mario with right fists~
Smith: Paul gave in and wielded Mario’s weapon…it nearly cost him control of this match. Looks like he’s going to stock with what makes him who he is from this point forward.
Hood: Oh, yea, sure…no doubt. But the minute shit goes sideways he’ll wish he had that 2x4. Trust me.
~Maurako covers up, trying to prevent anymore punches from landing. He fights to his feet. Paul stands and kicks Mario in the ass. Mario staggers forward, dropping to one knee. He, again, struggles to his feet, nearing the entrance/exit of the establishment. The guards dart out of the way. Paul runs up from behind and knees Mario in the back! Maurako tumbles out of Gruene Hall into the outside area. Fans are everywhere, getting out of the way. There’s a small wooden fence to the left…a giant communal area with wooden benches, flat screen tvs and kegs to the right. The ground is dirt, heavily pounded by the feet of pedestrians~
Smith: They’ve exited the establishment!
Hood: A battle too big for Gruene Hall to hold.
Smith: Although Cyanide remains inside.
Hood: Talk about a great guy…he’s chilling inside to ensure the VIP ticket holders aren’t totally fucked.
~Paras grabs Mario by the hair and drags him over near the keg area. He throws Mario into the kegs! Mario barrels into three kegs, knocking them over…beer and water spill everywhere. The fans are like ‘HEY!’ Mario struggles back to his feet. Paul gives the fan reaction no mind, staying on top of Mario. He delivers a vicious knife edged chop to Mario’s back. Mario staggers into a wooden bench/picnic table setup. The fans seated and standing around it scatter. Paras turns Mario around and chops him three times in the chest. He bends over to pick Mario up for a bodyslam…Mario fights it off. He ducks and tries to life Paul over for a back body drop…but Paul elbows Mario into the back. Paras hoists Mario up and falls backward, dropping him with a piledriver on the dirt!!! The fans outside chant ‘HOLY SHIT’ Paul, feeling the lack of give in the ground, decides to go for a cover. Gruff, outside and following the action, makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder up!
Smith: Mario avoiding the three count!
Hood: I don’t know about that, Smith. I would have probably laid there for at least ten seconds…get some rest.
Smith: Could chalk it up to instinct, Hood.
~Paras returns to his feet. He takes in the area…it’s not exactly his environment but, when in Rome. He motions for some fans to get out of the way. He waits for Mario to set up. Mario does…Paul runs forward looking to hit Acid Test. Mario, though, leaps to his feet…he catches Paul, spins around and DRIVES him into the top of the picnic table with a HUGE powerbomb!!! Paul hits with a loud THUD. Mario places both hands on Paul’s chest…he’s breathing heavily, starting to show fatigue. He motions for Gruff to count. Gruff slaps the table~
1!
2!
3!!
Smith: A pin! Mario’s pinned Paras!
Hood: Yea but Paras has to remain down for the three count.
Smith: Indeed…that’s going to be almost impossible.
~Mario starts to celebrate. It ends shortly once he realizes the situation…he yells at Gruff to count. Gruff yells ‘ONE!’ Mario urges Gruff to count faster. Gruff grumbles and yells “TWO”. Maurako keeps bugging Gruff to go faster. Gruff yells “THREE”~
Smith: Mario is doing everything he can to increase Gruff’s speed.
Hood: Cocaine might help.
Smith: Cocaine is illegal in all fifty states, Smith.
Hood: Further proof that America is losing its way.
~Gruff yells “FOUR!” Mario has a vice grip on Gruff’s shirt, yelling at him to count faster. Something flies through the air…he hooks Mario around the shoulders and pulls him back…it’s Cyanide with the bullrope!! He’s using it to wrangle Mario!!~
Smith: Wow…Cyanide is pretty handy with that rope.
Hood: The guy is a natural at everything!
~Cyanide looks at the rope…and he nods and shrugs as if to say “Who knew?” He spins Mario around and raises the 2x4 to eye level. Mario’s eyes widen. He tries to talk Cyanide down. Cyanide doesn’t seem willing to listen. Mario pauses…Cyanide finds Mario’s sudden silence surprising. Mario doesn’t hear Gruff counting anymore. Neither does Cyanide…they turn to see Paras standing atop the table. Paul leaps off and kicks both men in the face!!! The fans go wild!!! Cyanide and Mario tumble into the dirt. Paul winces, remaining down…the impact jarred his not-so-young body. Thank goodness for yoga~
Smith: The Perfect One is back in control!
Hood: This fuckin guy, I swear
Smith: You can’t leave him unattended…can’t take your eye off him. He’s quite possibly the greatest wrestler of his generation.
Hood: I REFUSE to believe that. He doesn’t even have a crown!
~Paras, summoning his inner strength, manages to reach his feet first. Cyanide sits up, shaking his head. Mario is dazed and, well, also tied up. He starts to roll around, kicking his feet. Cyanide stands…he and Paul look down at a trapped Mario. Mario looks up at them…he tries to speak but they proceed to stomp the hell out of him. The fans go wild!!! Cyanide and Paras stomp and stomp…if you didn’t know any better you’d swear their goal was to bury Mario with their feet. After several stomps, they realize Mario isn’t moving. Paul pauses, taking a breath. Cyanide removes the bull rope and heads for a nearby tree. Paul looks on, curiously~
Smith: Oh no
Hood: Is Mario going to try to lasso Paul now? Put that perfect record on the line?
Smith: No, I think Cyanide is looking to give Mario a very dangerous receipt.
~Cyanide ties the rope around the trunk before throwing it over the branch. He manages to shorten the lasso into a noose. This man is way more skilled with a rope than we imagined. He heads for Mario. Paul gets in his way. Cyanide smirks and tries to side step Paul. Paras, however, remains in AgCN’s way~
Smith: I don’t think Paul is going to allow this to happen.
Hood: Get out of his way, Paul. Contrary to your belief you don’t have the right to impose your views on others!
Smith: He isn’t imposing anything, Hood. These friends are at an impasse…the bond may never be truly healed…but Paul doesn’t want to see Mario hanged from a tree.
Hood: That’s not his choice. Let Cyanide make that decision.
~Cyanide moves his jaw around…its’s obvious that he’s annoyed. Paul tries reasoning with him. Cyanide shoves Paul. Paul looks up at Cyanide. Cyanide lunges at Paul with a right hand! Paul responds…the two men begin to brawl around the outside area. They brawl near a gate which separates the Gruene Hall area from the rest of the town. There’s a tiny, two way street a few feet beyond. These two men continue to brawl. The fans surrounding them are going wild~
Smith: Cyanide is not going to let Paul tell him what to do.
Hood: And why should he? He’s a legend just like Paul. Hell, you could argue that Cyanide has achieved more in his OCW career than the ‘perfect’ one.
Smith: Yes, one could argue that.
~The two brawl into the gate and corresponding fence. It’s wooden and white…about waist high. Cyanide stuns Paras with a left right combo. He steps back and throws a superkick. Paras ducks and lifts Cyanide up and over the gate!! Paras lands roughly on the sidewalk running parallel to the establishment. Paras kicks the gate open, staying after his longtime friend. He pulls Cyanide up and motions to bring him back inside the ground. Cyanide drills Paras in the body with an elbow. Paras doubles over…Cyanide hooks him and falls back delivering a suplex!!! Both men hit HARD. Cyanide lands hard on the sidewalk. Paras’ back lands on a patch of grass lining the sidewalk…his legs hit the street curb with his feet hanging in the street. There is a row of parked cars, along the street…bunch of parallel parkers. Both men remain down while the fans filter out to stay on top of the action~
Smith: Vicious suplex. Cyanide throwing caution into the wind!
Hood: Best friends make better enemies, Smith. Nothing feels better than punching a friend in the face.
Smith: I’m not sure I agree with that last part.
~Both men struggle getting up…the bumps outside Gruene Hall are unforgiving. They’d be rough on a wrestler in his twenties…a couple of aging veterans and, well, you figure it out. The fans surrounding them panic…they part. MARIO steps out holding his 2x4. He lifts the 2x4 high and brings it down at Cyanide. Cyanide rolls. The 2x4 SCRATCHES against the sidewalk. Paul rolls away, grabbing the front bumper to the nearest car for support. He gets to his feet…Mario leaps into the air and brings the 2x4 crashing down. Paul moves! The 2x4 stabs the front hood of this…decent automobile. Somewhere the owner is freaking out. Paul slugs Mario in the side of the head before he can pull the 2x4 out of the hood. Paul stays on top of Mario, punching him away from the 2x4. Cyanide, back on his feet rushes in. He throws punches at Paul. Paul returns…all three men pause, wobbly…they take a minute to catch their breath. They look at each other…fists start flying once more! It’s a three way brawl between brothers! The fans are going crazy~
Smith: They’re duking it out! Who will prevail?
Hood: Mario’s got more muscles. I’m going with him.
Smith: But his stamina is a question mark.
Hood: Nah, he’ll fuckin push through and expire as soon as the win is secured.
~Cyanide emerges as the front runner! His punches are quicker than Paul and Mario’s. He’s using both hands…the right for Paul and the left for Mario. Mario and Paul are staggering. Mario drops to a knee…he hunches over, putting his hand into the ground, wheezing. Cyanide steps back and BLASTS Paul with a superkick!!! Paul’s body slams into the aforementioned car. His arm winds up draped over the safe end of the 2x4…it’s sticking upward in a diagonal position with the ‘dangerous’ end gripped into the car’s hood. Cyanide turns toward Mario. Mario looks up and appears frightened, “Steve.” Cyanide pauses~
Smith: Don’t listen to him, Cyanide! He spews nothing but lies!
Hood: He’s clearly hurt, Smith. I think Cyanide should just lay down for thirteen seconds. It’s the honorable thing to do at this point.
Smith: NO
~Mario slowly rises. He’s wary. He points at Paul while clutching his chest. He bends over and coughs. Cyanide almost seems to be softening toward Mario. “We’ve got to finish Paul,” Mario says. He points out that Paul’s arm is draped over the 2x4…insinuating that Paul is trying to use it against them. Cyanide doesn’t appear to be 100% foolish enough to believe all of Mario…but he notices Mario’s weakened state and figures ‘why not.’ He snares Paras. Cyanide hooks Paras for Silver Lining. Mario charges forward and DRILLS Paras with a running clothesline!!! Fortunately for Paras, he lands on the strip of grass between the sidewalk and street. Cyanide hurries to get up, expecting a Mario attack. Mario, however, drops the ‘I’m sick’ routine and boots Cyanide right in the face!! Cyanide lands hard on the sidewalk. The fans BOOOO. Mario stands over both his friends in total control. He reaches for his 2x4~
Smith: I knew it!
Hood: Cyanide did too…he just underestimated how awesome of a liar Mario is.
Smith: He’s not sick at all! He just USED Cyanide to put Paras down…now he’s going to work them over with that diabolical weapon. This makes me sick!
~Mario, acting as a misguided King Arthur, PULLS HIS SWORD FROM THE METAL STONE. He holds it up high and heads toward Cyanide. Cyanide sees Mario coming and tries to crawl away…Mario extends the 2x4 and runs it down Cyanide’s back. Cyanide yells out in pain. He flips over, instinctively. Mario flips the 2x4 around and jams the ‘safer’ side into Cyanide’s stomach. He pulls Cyanide to his feet, spins him around and hooks him in a Full Nelson. He hoists Cyanide up and throws him directly down onto the concrete sidewalk with SUPER MARIO!! Cyanide isn’t moving. Mario picks up his 2x4. He brings it up high, preparing to slash it across Cyanide’s chest. A valiant knee strike from behind prevents bloody disaster!! Mario drops the 2x4 and drops to one knee. Paul Paras, back on his feet, grimacing in pain, is back in the picture. He snares Mario and throws him into the road!!! An oncoming vehicle hits the breaks. It’s a truck carrying a trailer surrounded by chain linked fence. Inside reside hundred of inner tubes. The driver yells at Mario to move. Paras enters the fray, motioning for the driver to relax. This driver obviously has no idea what’s going on. Paras throws a kick at Mario…Mario blocks it and punches Paul in the groin. The fans BOO. Mario pops to his feet. The driver honks at him. Mario slams the hood with both hands, denting the metal. The driver suddenly gets this ‘oh shit’ look on his face. Mario heads for the door…the driver tries to lock it, but Mario rips it open, grabs the driver and hurls him far away. We may or may not have heard a Wilhelm Scream. Mario takes a seat…the fans scream. They yell at Paul~
Smith: Is he going to run Paras over?
Hood: Hey, he’s got to keep him down for 13 seconds. This may be the only way.
Smith: This would be HOMICIDE
Hood: Oh relax…at least if Paul gets murdered he can finally, truly transcend humanity and all its imperfections.
~Before Mario can figure the truck out (probably a stick shift) the passenger’s window is shattered. A very angry Cyanide is holding the 2x4. Glass flies all over Mario. Paul steps in on the driver’s side, yanking Mario out. Cyanide heads that way with the 2x4. Mario thumbs Paul in the eye. He sees Cyanide coming…he looks for an escape. The fans surrounding the street…cars are backed up…Mario starts to panic. He leans up against the chain linked fencing. He turns and begins to climb. Cyanide rushes over, swinging the 2x4…but Mario is just out of reach. Cyanide starts to give chase, but Paul SLAMS his face into a metal surface covering the back tires which jut out from the side of the trailer. Cyanide falls to the street. Paul suddenly gives chase, climbing after Mario~
Smith: Paul is climbing after Mario…this is reminiscent of their battle at No Limits 2!
Hood: So is that 2x4…are you just now catching onto this shit, man?
Smith: That Ultimate Iron Match was conducted inside a chain linked cell. Mario and Paul eventually found themselves on top of that cell where Mario took a tremendous fall through the announce table.
Hood: You left out the most important part…
Smith: Which is…was?
Hood: Mario won that fucking match by sacrificing his body
Smith: Whatever! Yea, he won…but he didn’t choose to get powerbombed off that cell. That was none other than, well, the one who used to be kinda great.
~Mario reaches the top. He walks along the inner tubes…they’re stacked very tight and efficiently…it creates an easy, stable surface to walk upon. He sees Paras reaching over the fence, joining Mario. Mario’s shoulders slump…his expression says, “I can’t shake this guy.” Paul gets up there…Mario stabs him in the back with a boot. He yanks Paras toward the middle of the tubes and hooks a Full Nelson. He rag dolls Paras…doing his best to render The Perfect One’s upper body useless. Cyanide, meanwhile, recovers. He holds the 2x4…he looks up at the action…he wants in on it. He heads for the front of the vehicle and decides to climb that way…so he can bring the 2x4 with him~
Smith: Cyanide is approaching from the front. He’s got that heinous weapon with him. I wish we could just get rid of that thing.
Hood: It hasn’t served its purpose yet, Smith. DON’T YOU KNOW ANYTHING?
Smith: Apparently not as much as you know.
~Cyanide hops on top of the roof of the truck. He throws the 2x4 atop the tubes. He leaps up, grabbing the chain linked fence and flips over, into the tubes. Mario, with Paras in the Full Nelson, has a chance to grab the 2x4…but he has to release the hold. He decides against releasing Paras. Cyanide gets to his feet…he snares the 2x4. Mario rag dolls Paras in between the two men~
Smith: Mario using Paras for protection.
Hood: Operation Human Shield in effect!
~Mario is drenched. He’s getting ‘that’ look. That fatigued, cardio beginning to fail look. He yanks Paras up and throws The Perfect One at Cyanide. Cyanide reacts, dropping the 2x4. The two men fall atop the tubes. Mario reaches for the 2x4…he takes a break to catch his breath. Cyanide reaches out…Mario grabs the top of the 2x4, wrapping his hand around the sharp end. It cuts into his palm, but he’s fighting through the pain to grasp what he desires. Cyanide has the innocuous end. He pulls on it. Mario yells but pulls back…which makes Mario yell once more. Cyanide looks at Mario like, ‘Man you’re fucking crazy.’ He pulls again…Mario yells. Mario pulls back…the blood is running down his right forearm. His hand has got to be shredded~
Smith: This man has cost a best friend his OCW Championship. He hanged his other best friend. Now he’s willing to sacrifice his own health to be successful. At some point enough is enough…give it up, Mario!
Hood: And do what? Hang out on the OCW Hall of Fame beach with TGO and Scorpion? NO THANKS
~Cyanide grips the 2x4 with both hands. Mario’s eyes widen…he doesn’t appear to think he can withstand that power. Cyanide yanks back literally ripping the item from Mario’s grip!!! Mario doubles over, holding his right hand. He drops to a knee…the pain literally crippling him. Cyanide reaches back with the 2x4…it’s taken from him. Paul spins Cyanide around and slams the blunt end into his face. Cyanide crumbles into the tubes. Paras walks over to Mario. Mario looks up, “Paul…”~
Smith: Don’t listen to him, Paul!
Hood: Show mercy, Paul! I’m sure he’ll reward you.
~Paul pauses. Mario rises, hopeful. Paras suddenly rears back and BLASTS Mario in the face with the 2x4!!! Mario flies off the top of the truck all the way down into the hood of the car that’s taken a fair amount of abuse! He CRASHES into the roof, crushing it. The fans chant ‘HOLY SHIT!’ as Paul looks down on Mario. He THROWS the 2x4 as far away as he can before descending the chain linked fence, eager to pin his former tag team partner~
Smith: OH MY GOSH!!!
Hood: Mario takes another terrible fall…only this time it won’t get him the win.
Smith: Nope…it appears as though Mario is finished!
~Paul’s feet hit the ground. He walks toward Mario. He pauses. Something doesn’t feel right. He turns around…Cyanide leaps off the top of the truck with a cross body, landing right on top of Paras. Gruff, shaking his head like “Crazy ass fools!” drops to his knees for the count~
1!
2!
KICK OUT!!!
Smith: Paras kicked out!
Hood: Again…why not stay down for ten or eleven seconds?
Smith: Because he’s not wired that way, Hood!
~Cyanide pops back to his feet. He looks around for the 2x4…but, it’s gone. That’s fine...he pulls Paras up. He hooks for Silver Lining in the street. Paras elbows Cyanide in the side of the head. The hold is broken. Cyanide throws Paras into the car with the crushed roof. Paul’s back hits hard. His head is leaning up against the back, driver’s side window. Cyanide steps forward with a SUPERKICK!! His foot busts through the back window…Paras moved! Cyanide tries to get his foot out. Paul stumbles forward…he turns around. Cyanide looks at Paul with wide eyes. He holds his hand up…trying to get Paul to wait. Paul charges forward and leaps in the air with ACID TEST!! His foot BASHES Cyanide’s head through the driver’s window. Paras yanks his foot out of the window. His boot is scratched and cut. Paul yanks Cyanide away from the car…Cyanide’s leg and face are sliced up. He spins Cyanide around, hooks his waist and lifts him up and down into the concrete with a GERMAN SUPLEX! He bridges for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!!
Smith: A three count!!
Hood: Now we need ten more seconds, right?
Smith: Indeed
~Paras releases Cyanide. We see flashing lights in the background as an ambulance fights its way through the line of cars. It’s already been called to the scene. Paul leans into the demolished car, he’s gasping for air and working his back side to side, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, some of the pain. Gruff is already at “FOUR!” Paul turns around and sees his friend. Cyanide is a bloody mess. The scope of what he’s done to his friend starts to hit Paul. Paul stands over Cyanide, looking concerned. Scruff yells “FIVE!”~
Smith: Five more seconds and, thankfully, this thing will be over.
Hood: What a fucking war.
Smith: I think this battle has taken Paul somewhere he didn’t envision himself going. Paul’s signature equanimity, I think, broke tonight.
Hood: Perhaps
~Scruff yells “SIX!” Paras begins to pace. He sees the ambulance in the background and begins waving at the cars facing him, trying to clear a path. Scruff yells “SEVEN!” A fan suddenly screams, “HE’S ALIVE!!’ Paul turns and finds Cyanide in his same spot. Then, it hits. Standing above him, atop the car, is the visage of Mario Maurako…his hulking image contrasting against the late, afternoon Texas skyline. Paul turns around, ready for anything. Mario bends his knees…he’s preparing for lift off. Scruff yells “EIGHT!” Mario reaches for his chest…he collapses off the car to the pavement~
Smith: Oh no!
Hood: Damnit…did his heart just give out?
Smith: I…I don’t know.
Hood: This match LITERALLY broke his heart!
~Scruff yells “NINE!” The ambulance has a clear path, rolling near the scene. Scruff yells “TEN!!!” He calls for a bell…wherever it is. Off in the distance we hear Belvedere’s voice echo from Gruene Hall~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…PAUL PARAS!!!!!
Smith: Paras wins…but at what cost?
Hood: They wanted a death match. You can’t say they didn’t get what they asked for.
~The ambulance is parked. Medics rush out. Paul, drenched in sweat, isn’t celebrating his victory. Instead, he’s directing these medics on where to go. Fans are told to stay back while Mario and Cyanide are being looked at~
Smith: What a way to close out the Gruene Hall portion. We’re going to cut away from this, folks. You all get the picture.
Hood: Where does this put Paul?
Smith: You’d have to ask him. I mean, I’d assume he is now and will forever be a main event fixture in OCW.
Hood: Yea, true that
~We cut backstage where the medic tent is shown. Lurrr, icing his injuries, appears there for someone else. Mathis has vanished. Is that who he’s waiting on? Jones walks up, hoping to get at least ONE SCOOP tonight. An irate Lurrr rips the mic from Jones’ hand~
Lurrr: What the actual fuck? Two legends go out there, give it their all only for some jealous alcoholic to run in and attempt to RUIN a warrior’s career. This is fucking bullshit.
Smith: Lurrr is still seething over Mack’s attack earlier this evening on a very prone, already injured Meyhu.
Hood: Meyhu and Lurrr beat respect into one another, Smith.
~Lurrr leans his head back, pressing a bag of ice on his neck. We over hear the fans surrounding the LAGUNA POOL give him a strong ovation~
Lurrr: This is what’s wrong with this business. I’ve perpetrated my fair share of shitty dealings. But I have enough respect to stand back and let a competitor who’s been through WAR have his moment.
~A ‘MEYHU’ chant starts~
Lurrr: We went out there today and we put on a fucking show. We put that Hall of Fame Title back on the map and now…for what? So the new champion can sit in a hospital for six months? Fucking hell.
~Lurrr wipes some sweat from his brow. He reaches for his aching back…the match has obviously taken its toll~
Lurrr: I’ve poured my soul into this company. OCW has always been about earning respect. Earning your spot. But, lately, it seems any fucking schmuck from bumfuck whatever company can just waltz in here, lay a beat down, and get rewarded with prime exposure. I’m sick and tired of it…
~Lurrr pauses. He notices the color run from Jones’ face~
Lurrr: What the fuck is wrong with you?
~Behind Lurrr, stepping out from around the tent is a masked man~
Smith: Hood! It’s the masked man in the vignettes! He’s here!
Hood: You think he’s walking up to pat Lurrr on the back, take him out for beers?
Smith: I…I don’t think so, Hood.
~The veteran gets that ‘Oh shit’ look on his face. He balls up his fists and drops the mic. He spins around, throwing a punch…there isn’t much behind it due to the fatigue from his match earlier. The masked man blocks it and grabs Lurrr by the throat!!! Lurrr tries to fight him off…but the Masked Man is too strong. Lurrr’s legs weaken. His arms wave around…they move slower and slower before coming to rest at his sides. Lurrr is quickly choked unconscious~
Hood: He’s trying to kill Lurrr!
~After a few moments the person stops and throws Lurrr to the ground like a piece of trash. The man takes of his mask to reveal his identity~
Smith: That’s Scott Stevens! That’s Scott Stevens from High Octane Wrestling!
~Stevens unzips his jacket and reaches inside to produce a scalpel. Stevens leans over and cuts a piece of hair from Lurrr’s sweat drenched locks and places the hair and scalpel back into his jacket~
Smith: Stevens just STOLE some of Lurrr’s hair! That is sick! SICK
Hood: Yea man, Lurrr doesn’t have much to spare up there.
Smith: Get serious!
~The Texan smirks as he places the mask on Lurrr’s face before leaving. We hear the fans around Laguna Pool BOOING in vehement protest~
Smith: I am appalled with this company, Hood. Everything we’ve seen tonight has made me question what we’re doing anymore…these wrestlers, they are just so…so mean!
Hood: Tough up, buttercup.
Smith: Scott Stevens is apparently active in OCW and he’s called Lurrr out in his own…unique way. I have no doubt Lurrr will be fired up next Monday back in Key West.
Hood: Stevens got the jump on Lurrr. Good on him. But Lurrr isn’t going to just smile and head off into the sunset. Lurrr is going to want revenge…soon.
Smith: Indeed
Hood: Yep, indeed indeed...so, is it time?
Smith: It is time.
Hood: Alright! THE MAN is about to grace us with his presence!
Smith: Andrea Hernandez has been climbing and climbing and climbing...the top of Mount OCW is within reach. Is tonight the night she reaches the zenith?
Hood: She's already reached HER zenith, if you ask me. Personally, I think she's in over her head.
Smith: You've been saying that her entire career. If I were Andrea, after hearing that, I'd feel pretty confident. It's the OCW Champion...it's the Craze Champion...it's our main event...and it is NOW
Main Event – OCW Championship
Midas’ Ladder Match
Mike Best © (12-0) vs. Andrea Hernandez © (13-4)
~It’s been a long night. But you have to give it to these fans…they are as ravenous as ever. They know what’s coming. The sun is setting…the lights have been turned up to 11. The ring nestled over the Laguna Pool is refreshed, cleansed, and ready to go. The external heat may have broken but the internal heat…that WRESTLING heat is sweltering. Belvedere, inside the ring, clears his throat to a HUGE ovation. The fans begin chanting “ANDREA! ANDREA!”~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen…it is now time for our Main Event of the evening!!!
~A huge ovation sounds out! The marquee match of arguably the greatest show in company history is moments away from taking place! Belvedere waits for the volume level to turn down JUST a bit before continuing~
Belvedere: This is a Midas’ Ladder Match and it is TITLE FOR TITLE. The rules of this match are simple. Both belts will be suspended above the ring via a giant CRANE. In order to win a wrestler must procure BOTH belts inside the ring. The first competitor to do this will leave the Craze and OCW Champion!!
~"Ultranumb" - Blue Stahli hits! The fans go CRAZY!!! Andrea makes her way through the crowd with her standard, tunnel-vision-like focus. She reaches the rebuilt walkway. The OCW Craze Title is around her waist. She slaps it with both hands, staring at the ground and taking in a deep, contemplative breath. She finally raises her head and marches toward the ring to a HUGE ovation~
Smith: She’s climbed the OCW ladder the way it’s supposed to be climbed. Rung by rung…it started with Veiga…then it was Bester…then Grenier…then Mario…then Curt…then Evin…and now, she faces the endgame villain. The final boss…now she faces the OCW Champion, Mike Best.
Hood: You play many video games?
Smith: Some.
Hood: How many people beat the boss on their first try?
Smith: I’m sure it’s not impossible, Hood.
~Andrea walks up the steps and enters into the ring. She throws her arms up into the air to a tremendous ovation!!! The Texas late afternoon/early evening sky…a darkening, almost orange-ish hue is filled with chants for Andrea Hernandez~
Smith: Andrea’s always been one of the most popular stars in OCW. However, down here in Texas, she seems to have some extra support.
Hood: Whatever are you trying to say, Smith?
Smith: It’s not racist, Hood. It’s geography.
~Andrea’s music dies out. But the chants continue on. She leans into a corner looking around, taking in the ovation. She does her best to stifle a smile. She has to remain serious. "Everybody Loves Me" by OneRepublic starts up, breaking the pro-Andrea atmosphere. The fans BOOOO in unison. A few women in the crowd seem to cheer…they are likely feeling a bit moist…moisture that has nothing to do with the water park. We see people flying around like rag dolls as the OCW Champion, Mike Best shoves his way to the front of the crowd. He reaches the beginning of the walkway and brushes the accumulated germs from his arms. He scowls over the fact these fans are so close to him. The OCW Title is secured tightly around his waist. We can still make out the ‘M’ on his chin, although the rest of the hair is fighting to drown it out. He finally makes his way down the path, toward the ring~
Smith: And here comes out loathed champion.
Hood: This is why these fans are here! They paid to see THE BEST
Smith: Did you see him throwing the fans around? Talk about rude!
Hood: They shouldn’t stand so close to greatness. It’s like Icarus, Smith. Get too close and you’re fucked.
~Best marches up the ring steps. He pauses, wiping his feet on the apron while glaring at his opponent. An arrogant smirk hits his face revealing that the champ doesn’t appear to be sweating his competition. He steps into the ring and finds a corner, standing on the middle buckle and looking out at the fans. A unanimous BOOOOO is his response. It doesn’t irk him. It doesn’t bother him. This is who he is and what he wants…these fans are simply playing into that fact. His music begins to die out. A fan is overheard yelling, “I HEAR YOU MAKE GRAPHICS AND THAT’S WHY – “ This fan is immediately stifled by men in black shades and suits. Are they MEN IN BLACK? We do not know. Regardless, Best hops off the second buckle and spins around in the ring, facing Andrea. Belvedere steps forward~
Belvedere: Introducing first…the challenger…FIGHTING OUT OF THE FCB1FF corner!! She stands 5’4 and weighs in at 125lbs…she is a former OCW Paradigm Champion…she is the current REIGNING and DEFENDING OCW Craze Champion…she is…ANDREA HERRRRRRRRNANDEZ!!!!
~Andrea removes her Craze Title and holds it high into the air for the world to see. “ANDREA! ANDREA! ANDREA!” She marches toward each side of the ring, showing off her title. Fans standing around the pool are going wild….fans IN the pool are going wild. Fans coming down the soda straws are going wild…NEW BRAUNFELS, TEXAS is going wild!! Mike, leaning back in his corner, takes it all in…he’s likely remembering a time when he experienced his first big main event and how he acted like a total novice. Andrea, breathing heavily, fired up, stands back in her corner. She throws the title over her shoulder and paces in place, consumed with anxious energy~
Smith: This is the biggest moment of her career, Hood.
Hood: Oh without a doubt…everything she’s experienced since last September, I guess it was…it’s all lead to this.
Smith: If she can dethrone Mike Best then Andrea will cement her name as one of the all-time greats in OCW history.
Belvedere: And, her opponent…FIGHTING OUT OF THE f8db03 corner!! He stands 6’1 and weighs in at 225lbs…he is the current REIGNING and DEFENDING OCW Champion…he is….MIKE BEEEEEEST!!!!
~BOOOOOO!! The crowd sounds violent. They seem to wish MURDER upon this man. Mike Best remains in his corner, slowly raising one hand…the act seems perfunctory, as though he’s simply going through the motions. This whole spectacle is a tired tradition for this man. He’s ready to get on with the violence. Belvedere exits the ring. Scruff motions for the two champions to head toward the center of the squared circle~
Smith: And the Crane begins to lower.
Hood: Who’s operating that thing?
Smith: A local construction worker, I think.
Hood: Spared no expense, I see.
~Andrea hands over her Craze Championship. Scruff reaches up and hooks it around the circular cable hanging from the CRANE. He turns to Mike. Mike looks out to the crowd…they BOOO. Mike looks at Andrea and shakes his head as he slowly removes his OCW Championship. He shows it to Andrea in a mocking fashion, letting her know that as long as he’s around the ultimate prize in this company will never be hers. Scruff takes the title and hooks it alongside the Craze Belt. Andrea’s jaw is tightened…her blood pressure is rising. The CRANE goes into operation, raising the titles high above. Mike looks up, watching the belts ascend while Andrea keeps her gaze on Mike~
Smith: BOTH belts must be removed and secured in the ring.
Hood: Craze Title experiencing a brush with greatness this evening.
Smith: The Craze Title is a very prestigious belt, Hood.
Hood: Not as long as Andrea has it!
Smith: And the insults begin
~The bell rings!! Andrea charges at Mike, who is still gazing up at his OCW Title. She drills Mike with a forearm to the head…she follows that up with a chop…then a forearm, then a chop!!! The fans are going wild!! Mike stumbles back, into a corner. Andrea continues to hit the OCW Champion with forearms and chops…the fans chant “ANDREA!” Mike, having let his guard down, is receiving an unexpected beating. Andrea steps back and throws a huge kick into Mike’s ribs!! The OCW Champion stumbles forward. Andrea takes a seat on the middle buckle…she leaps off and drives Mike face first into the mat with a Bulldog!!! Mike is down!!! Andrea starts to roll him over but the fans yell “NO!!” She snaps out of it~
Smith: No pinfalls, Andrea!
Hood: She’s in the zone, Smith. It slipped her mind!
Smith: She’s so focused on beating Mike to a pulp that she forgot the goal of the match.
Hood: This is why she can’t be OCW Champion!
~Andrea doesn’t let the early error deter her fire. She grabs Mike by the head and slams his face into the mat repeatedly…six, seven, eight times!! She finishes this portion of her flurry up by rubbing Mike’s face into the mat. She pops to her feet to a HUGE ovation!!! She plays to the crowd for a moment before heading toward the ropes and looking down at the metal grating. She looks over her shoulder at Mike…he’s struggling to push up to his knees~
Smith: She’s got him down…but not nearly wounded enough to try a ladder spot.
Hood: Yep, she realizes that.
Smith: You’ve got to stay on top of him, Andrea!
Hood: She’s wasting too much time, Smith. You give Mike and inch and he’s going to skull fuck you for a mile.
~Andrea places her hand along the top rope…a memory flashes through her mind. She steps through the ropes onto the apron, watching Mike. Mike gets to one knee. He stands. Andrea leaps off and springboards from the top rope into her finisher SKY HIGH!! Mike catches her!! He drills Andrea into the mat with a Sit-Out Powerbomb!! Andrea’s head slams into the mat!! She reaches for the back of her head, rolling away. Mike remains seated, rubbing his face, moving his jaw back and forth~
Smith: Andrea was experiencing flashbacks over how she put Evin Empire away.
Hood: Mike Best is no Evin Empire.
Smith: Indeed.
Hood: Andrea needs to quit living in the fucking past, man. Focus on the present!
~Andrea finds the apron. Mike returns to his feet. He walks toward the ropes…a fair amount of anger begins to show itself across his face. He reaches through the ropes, grabbing Andrea by the hair. He pulls her up and hooks Hernandez for a suplex. Andrea throws a knee through the ropes into Mike’s ribs. Mike stumbles back…Andrea leaps over the top rope with a sunset flip. She tries pulling Mike over…Mike resists…he throws a fist down at Andrea’s face. She slides away, popping to her feet. Mike’s fist hits the mat. Andrea hits the ropes…she bounces off. Mike turns around…Andrea reaches out, looking for Sling Blade…Mike holds on, spins her around and drives her back across his knee with a back breaker!!! Andrea arches her back in pain, rolling around the ring. Mike remains on one knee, looking up at both titles~
Smith: Devastating backbreaker…the longer this goes the more it appears Mike might be better than Andrea.
Hood: Ah, love hearing you say that.
Smith: I almost choked on those words.
Hood: Why? Mike IS better than Andrea. I mean, I guess lightning could strike him halfway up the ladder or something but aside from that, he’s got this.
~Andrea tries rolling back to the apron. Mike pops up and stomps on her hair. Andrea yells out in pain. She’s stuck with her pair being forcibly pulled back by Mike’s foot. Best drops to a knee, keeping that knee on her hair. He balls his right fist and sticks out his middle knuckle, so that it’s higher than the rest. He turns it downward and drives it into Andrea’s temple. Andrea screams out in pain. The fans boooo!! Mike drives it into her temple trying to incapacitate the Craze Champion~
Smith: Scruff!! Step in there and stop this…he could do some serious damage to her brain!
Hood: It’s a good thing women have smaller brains than men. Otherwise he might actually do some severe damage, Smith.
Smith: What are you talking about? Women and men have equal sized brains!
Hood: No way, man. I talked with Chad Vargas earlier and he told me that was a fact. He also said…
Smith: Please, that’s enough knowledge from Chad Vargas.
~Andrea’s movements slow. Scruff steps in, fearing she might truly be injured. He struggles to get Mike to stop. Mike finally relents, standing over Andrea. Andrea’s trembling hand reaches up, holding her head. Mike kicks her hard in the back. Andrea rolls toward the side of the ring. Mike runs forward, slides and delivers a knee into her spine!! Andrea’s flies under the bottom rope, off the apron and onto the metal grating outside. Mike stands and extends his arms, showing his superior positioning at this point in the match. The fans BOOO. They chant “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!” Mike, still wearing his cut off ‘RAVEN KILLER’ shirt, removes the black, best-selling piece of merchandise and hops out of the ring, standing over Andrea. He sits her up, wraps the shirt around her throat, places his knee into her back and begins to choke Andrea~
Smith: And now he’s choking her? Is he trying to kill Andrea?
Hood: Dude, you’ve seen ladder matches. It takes NEAR DEATH for people to climb those things.
Smith: I’m just sick of this man running people out of this prestigious company. Hayley would be competing tonight if not for Mi –
Hood: Hayley was a fucking moron who was killed off due to natural selection.
~Mike stops choking Andrea once he realizes that she might really be dead. He removes the shirt and tosses it away. He pushes the side of Andrea’s head…her body falls limply onto the metal grating. Scruff looks on from inside the ring, slightly concerned. Mike stands…he places the bottom of his boot into Andrea’s back and shoves her off the metal grating and into the pool. Fans scream…they yell “HELP!” Other fans boo. Fans try to swim over, but they are blocked by ropes and buoys placed into the water to keep them from getting too close to the action. Mike reaches under the ring, not a care in the world, and grabs a ladder. He slides it under the bottom rope~
Smith: She could drown in that water!
Hood: What a way to go…defeat all those names she likes reciting only to drown in like 4-5 feet of water.
Smith: C’mon, Andrea!!
Hood: And look at all these stupid fans. I hope they get in there so Mike can beat the shit out of each and every one of them.
~Mike rolls into the ring and snares the ladder. He stands and begins to set the ladder up. With the ladder set up, Mike looks at the belts hanging above. They sway a bit, in the Texas breeze. He gets the ladder underneath the belts and ensures it’s sturdiness. He begins he climb~
Smith: This feels early but it makes sense.
Hood: He’s got a clear path, Smith. Total domination by Mike Best yet again.
Smith: Andrea’s got time…but the window is rapidly closing.
~The fans pop!! Andrea’s hand reaches out of the water onto the metal grating!! Her fingers grip the metal holes for leverage. Her second hand reaches out…together they pull her soaked body out of the pool. Mike pauses for a moment, he spots Andrea emerging. He’s on the second rung, so he accelerates his ascension. Andrea reaches the grating, on all fours. She crawls toward the apron. Mike is halfway up the ladder. Andrea gets onto the apron, kneeling. She sees Mike over halfway up the ladder. She can’t possibly reach him. He continues to climb. He reaches up…his fingers graze the Craze Title. Andrea pulls herself up. Mike looks down and takes another step up. Andrea leaps into the air…she springboards off the top rope and performs SKY HIGH for a second time…this time, however, instead of aiming for Mike she pearl harbors her way into the ladder!!! Her back SLAMS into the side of the ladder sending it falling over!! Mike holds on…he lets go and is clotheslined across the top rope!! He grabs his throat and falls to one knee. Andrea, on her back, winces in pain. The fans are going wild!! They chant for Andrea to get up~
Smith: Andrea just hit her finisher on the ladder!
Hood: Well, I’ll give her some credit…that was pretty much the only way to prevent Mike from winning.
Smith: Indeed…she did what she had to do. She’s in bad shape but she’s not out of this match…not yet.
Hood: That’s okay, Mike will piledrive her stupid head into something really hard and end her once and for all.
~Andrea, realizing she has to be quick…struggles to her feet. Her hair is soaked…the rest of her body seems to be drying fairly rapidly. Mike stands…he coughs and rubs his throat. As he turns around to face Andrea he’s hit with a roundhouse kick!! Mike stumbles into the ropes. Andrea takes both hands and rams them into his throat!! Mike staggers forward, coughing, holding his throat. Andrea reaches for the ladder. She folds it up and holds it like a battering ram. Mike, leaning against the ropes, turns around. Andrea charges forward. Mike ducks!!! The top of the ladder hits the top rope…Andrea stumbles back, holding the ladder over her shoulder. Mike reaches for the ladder from behind, trying to rip it away. He kicks Andrea in the back and manages to take the ladder. He’s holding it upside down, in front of his face. Andrea spins around, leaps up, puts her knees into the ladder and uses it to hit a very painful Codebreaker!!! Mike’s body flies back into the corner!!! He slumps down to the mat, seated against the bottom buckle. The ladder lands on it’s head before falling into the corner, on top of Mike. Andrea, holding both knees, struggles to her feet, fighting the pain. She charges forward and delivers a senton onto the ladder, crushing it into Mike!!! The fans go wild!! “ANDREA! ANDREA!”~
Smith: Andrea is putting her body on the line!
Hood: No shit…I may not like her but she’s doing everything she can physically do to stay in this match.
Smith: The final boss, Mike Best is down. He’s wounded. Andrea’s got an opening!
Hood: Yea but he won’t be down for long.
~Andrea, too, is down. She reaches for her back…then her knees. All this ladder oriented offense is taking a pretty significant toll on her. But, she keeps reminding herself what’s at stake. This is HER moment. This is what she’s worked for. She struggles to her feet, snaring the ladder. Mike remains down, leaning up against the bottom buckle. Andrea takes the top of the ladder…she starts to ram it repeatedly into Mike!! The fans count along, “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVESIXSEVENEIGHTNINE…TEN!!!’ Mike is flattened out on the mat, his dazed eyes staring up at the bottom buckle. Andrea yells out…the fans respond, going wild! She carries the ladder toward the center of the ring, setting it up. Once ensuring that it’s sturdy and in proper position, she starts to climb~
Smith: And now Andrea giving it a go!
Hood: Get up, Mike!
Smith: Mike Best is down…Andrea is climbing the ladder…she’s a few feet away from immortality!! This would make her the third woman to ever wear the OCW Title!
Hood: The other two are in the Hall of Fame…so that would probably ensure a spot for Andrea…sadly.
Smith: I’d say, if she makes it into the Hall…she’s earned it, Hood.
~Mike’s instincts kick in…the man truly was BRED FOR THIS SPORT. He sits up, leaning against the bottom two buckles. He sees Andrea…she’s climbing quite quickly due to her agility and tremendous balance. Mike reaches up, grabbing the top rope. He uses it to stand. He heads over toward the ladder. Andrea is over halfway up, but too far to reach the belts. Mike grabs the opposite side and appears ready to return the favor. He shoves the ladder forward. Andrea looks over her shoulder as the ladder begins to fall. She leaps off, over the top rope and lands on the apron!! She appears fine. The top of the ladder is propped up against the top rope. Mike closes the ladder, looking focused on turning it into a weapon. Andrea hops onto the top rope and leaps onto the ladder. She runs the length of the ladder, showing tremendous balance. Mike, whose head is at the bottom of the ladder, in between both legs, has no time to react. Andrea leaps off the ladder, grabs Mike and pulls him backward, onto his head with a Canadian Destroyer!!! The crowd goes WILD!! “HOLY SHIT!” The momentum and Mike’s grasp sends the ladder flying through the air, over the top rope, out of the ring and into the pool with a huge splash!!! The fans still go wild. Andrea dives at the ropes, trying to grab the ladder before it hits the water…but, obviously, she was too late. Mike is on his back, staring up into the sky. Andrea, leaning over the middle rope, breathes heavily and stares at the drowning ladder with frustration~
Smith: What a move!
Hood: Okay, she’s athletic…I’ll give her that.
Smith: But the ladder…it’s gone.
Hood: I’m sure we have more. Our WEAK ASS BOOKING isn’t THAT weak.
Smith: Yea but by the time she gets another ladder Mike will be in position to stop her climb.
~Andrea crawls over the middle rope, finding the apron. She gets to her feet and looks at Mike. The OCW Champion is still on his back. Andrea leaps up, she springboards off and lands on top of Mike with SKY HIGH! Mike remains down! Andrea remains focused, ignoring that sense of arrogance others might allow to creep in, urging them to obtain a visual fall. She rolls out of the ring…her full focus is on winning the match. She stands atop the metal grating and looks underneath the ring. She produces another ladder, sliding it in. She hops back on the apron. Mike hasn’t moved…but, Andrea has seen enough Mike Best matches to know that he isn’t exactly GREAT SCOTT. So, she leaps up, springboards off and drops another SKY HIGH onto Mike. The OCW Champ is REALLY down, now. Andrea pops to her feet and yells out. The fans go wild!! They chant “HER-NAN-DEZ!”~
Smith: These fans showing their support! Mike Best is down…I think Andrea’s got this. We are about to see a new OCW Champion!
Hood: Her Man Dez? IS ANDREA DATING DEZ BRYANT?
Smith: They’re chanting HERNANDEZ…that’s her last name you buffoon!
~Andrea’s got the ladder positioned. She begins the climb. She’s not wasting anytime…this isn’t your TYPICAL ladder match where the person suddenly forgets how to use their arms and legs. She’s scooting right on up the ladder. The fans chant ‘YES! YES!’ She gets to the top and reaches for the belts~
Smith: A new champion!
Hood: Well, looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing hairy asses.
Smith: Excuse me?
Hood: What?!
~Andrea touches the OCW Title…only for it to ascend out of reach. The fans are like “HUH?!” They start to boo. Andrea climbs higher, chasing after the belt. She reaches the top rung and stands atop it, extending her arms as high as they will go but it’s no use. The belts are out of reach, soaring as high as fifty feet in the air. Andrea looks up and then out at the crowd. Her attention turns toward the CRANE operator. It’s a normal looking guy. We zoom in on his name tag. It reads, “Mark.”~
Smith: HEY! That’s not fair!
Hood: Those titles were supposed to be way up there from the start.
Smith: To jerk them up there like that…at that moment…that’s just about the worst thing that’s happened to Andrea inside an OCW ring.
Hood: Worse than looking at Axel Veiga? I think not!
Smith: Who’s operating that crane, by the way?
Hood: A guy named Mark…M ALERT! HE’S THE NEWEST MEMBER OF THE eMpire!!!
~The crowd surrounding the crane operator stirs. Mark looks around nervously. Andrea, standing atop the ladder, realizes she needs a new plan. It starts with getting down. The ladder shakes…she nearly loses her balance. Andrea looks down in horror to see MIKE BEST at the base of the ladder. He’s holding his ribs in pain with one arm while gripping the side of the ladder with the other. He looks up at Andrea and gives her a big ‘thumbs down’. He shoves the ladder over…Andrea goes with the ladder before jumping off the top out of instinct. She flips over and lands on the walkway, back first!!! She lands with a HUGE crack!!! She winces and arches her back before going still. The fans chant ‘HOLY SHIT!’ before booing the OCW Champion. Mike pushes the ladder out of the way and looks up at both titles. He waves them down. And, like magic, they start to descend toward Mike. The entire STATE OF TEXAS begins to boo~
Smith: Are you kidding me?! What’s become of OCW, Hood? Are we a safe place for jerks?
Hood: Nope…we just realize talent when we see it. Mike Best is a man you build a company around. Andrea is someone you send to the airport to pick up low level investors.
Smith: Okay, that’s enough! You apologize this instant!
Hood: I think not.
~The fans around Mark are booing, trying to get to him. OCW security blocks them off, doing their job to protect a contracted laborer. Mark, sweating bullets, continues to lower the belts. They finally are within Mike’s reach. Mike reaches up and grabs the Craze Title. He unhooks the belt and throws it over his shoulder. BOOOO go the fans! Mike takes a moment to pose with the belt because, well, that’s what Mike Best does. The fans suddenly cheer. Mike pauses and turns. He sees ZYBALA standing over Mark!! We cut to a replay of Zybala SUPERKICKING Mark off the CRANE. Zybala hops on and starts to elevate the OCW Title. Mike reaches up…he jumps…he grabs part of the belt before his sweat stained fingers lose their grip and he falls onto the mat, back first. He sits up, wincing. The physical pain gives way to emotional stress as he suddenly realizes the built in advantage is no more. The belts reach their 50 foot status. Zybala removes the key from the crane, puts it in his pocket and disappears into the fans. Mike Best lays back on the mat…he punches the canvas with his fist. Andrea remains on the walkway…she hasn’t moved much~
Smith: Mike Best has just received some terrible news.
Hood: Fuckin Zybala, man. ALWAYS ZYBALA
Smith: He’s leveling the playing field.
Hood: Yea but Mike has the Craze Title. Does that mean, at the very least he leaves Craze Champion?
Smith: No. It just means he needs to grab one more belt before he can be named the winner.
Hood: Okay so…to win you need BOTH belts in the ring?
Smith: Not necessarily in the ring…you just need both belts in your possession.
Hood: Ah, okay…love that we are confirming this mid match. CLASSIC OCW, BABY
~Mike sits up. He looks at the ladder in the ring and then glances overhead. The quick mental math tells him he needs an alternative route. He looks over his shoulder at the crane. With a sigh, Mike gets to his feet and moves to exit the ring, Craze Title over his shoulder. He hops through the ropes and lands on the metal grating, facing the walkway. Andrea remains laid out in front of him, halfway down the path. Mike smirks, looking down at Andrea without surprise. He heads her way~
Smith: Is he going to try and climb the crane?
Hood: You have any better ideas?
Smith: Well…no
Hood: I mean Andrea may as well just take a nap so Mike can win. He’s already got that Craze Title over his shoulder and, as we’ve all seen, once Mike gets his hands on a belt he never lets it go…in OCW, anyway.
Smith: I was about to say…Mike’s been extremely concerned over his inability, in the past, to successfully defend a title.
Hood: Yea, but that was then, this is now.
~Mike walks past Andrea, much to the surprise of everyone watching. She’s not exactly at the top of his concern list. Perhaps she should be, though. Because she reaches up and grabs his left leg as soon as he steps over her. Mike pauses. He looks down at Andrea, who is on her stomach, gripping his leg. Mike ALMOST looks like he admires her fight…but that goes away in the blink of an eye, giving center stage to his competitive nature. He takes his free foot and brings it down, toward the back of Andrea’s head. Andrea pops to her knees and leans back, avoiding the stomp while also releasing Mike’s leg. Mike’s missed stop gives him pause. Andrea pops to her feet…she delivers a flurry of palm strikes to Mike’s head and chest. Mike Best stumbles backward down the walkway, somehow avoiding falling into the water. He manages to pull the title from his shoulder and swing it at Andrea’s head. Andrea ducks, leans forward and throws her leg up…she shows tremendous flexibility in getting her foot high enough to smack Mike in the face!! Mike stumbles back…the Craze Title hanging loosely…his left hand gripping the strap. Andrea charges forward…she leaps into the air and takes Mike down on the walkway with a Thesz Press!!! The fans go wild!!! Andrea slams the back of Mike’s head into the walkway repeatedly~
Smith: Andrea’s fighting back!
Hood: Hey! Whoa…easy there, psycho woman! That’s the champ’s head you’re bouncing around…go easy!
Smith: This is a fight, Hood!
Hood: No, this is a business and Mike Best is the FACE of said business.
~Andrea finishes and rises to her feet. Mike reaches for the back of his head. Andrea rips the Craze Title away from him and heads back toward the ring. She slides the belt into the ring and looks up at the OCW Title. She pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how in the hell Mike go the Craze belt. The fans yell, warning Andrea…she turns to see Mike sitting up, shaking his head. Andrea hustles back down the walkway. She pauses…the walkway feels unstable~
Smith: Her fall…plus those head shots she gave Mike PLUS the fact that this is a REPLACEMENT walkway all adds up to a very unstable surface.
Hood: Fuckin Bifford
Smith: The hazards of putting a ring out over a body of water, Hood.
~Andrea does her best to ignore the very shaky, very unstable surface. She pulls Mike up. Mike pushes her off. Andrea spins around and drills Mike in his ‘M’ chin with a forearm. Mike is staggered. Andrea kicks Mike in the gut…she hooks him by the waist. She yells out in pain, using all the strength she has to pull Mike up and drop him onto the walkway with a Piledriver!!! The impact BREAKS the walkway!!! Andrea rolls backward, to avoid falling into the pool. Mike’s position seems safe…the walkway is fractured, broken in between them. The two portions drift apart, slightly. Andrea contemplates hopping over but decides to head to the ring, instead. Mike remains down~
Smith: Andrea heading to the ring…I’m not sure that’s the wisest move. How can she win the match from there?
Hood: I don’t know, but the fucking belt is in there and if what you say is true…if the winner needs both belts then Mike is going to have to get in that ring and get that belt.
Smith: It seems we have a gap.
Hood: Quite literally…let’s bridge this gap!
~Andrea slides into the ring. She heads for the ladder. Mike sits up, holding his head. He looks at his hand…it’s clear. No blood. He sees the broken walkway. He nods as if to say, “Figures my skull would break through metal.” Or something to that effect. He stands and stumbles, nearly falling into the water. He looks around and sees a ton of kids swimming around outside the roped area. That equals a lot of urine. Mike turns and heads toward land, away from the ring. He staggers to the side here and there, showing that his equilibrium is buzzed~
Smith: He’s going to the Crane.
Hood: So you’ve got the OCW Champion set to climb the crane…and then you’ve got some woman in the ring just trying to be the center of attention.
Smith: Wildly inaccurate statement.
Hood: Meanwhile that water is full of pleb piss. So glad Mike didn’t fall in.
~Mike reaches the Crane. He sits down and tries to operate it…he quickly realizes the key is gone. He lowers his head and slams his fist into the controls. He looks up the arm of the crane with an amalgamation of concern and frustration. Andrea, meanwhile, grabs the ladder and places it under the OCW Title~
Smith: The reality of what Mike must do just hit like a ton of bricks. He’s got to climb the full fifty feet.
Hood: Meanwhile Andrea has yet to figure out how ladders and height work. THAT LADDER IS TOO SHORT YOU DUMB WOMAN!
Smith: She’s smarter than that! I think she might have a plan
~Mike stands atop the control panel and reaches for the crane. He grabs a decent grip and carefully brings his legs up. He finds a comfortable position, one that inspires confidence. He sits still for a moment, trying to work this out in his head before moving forward. Andrea, meanwhile, hops out of the ring and finds a second ladder. She slides it into the ring. She’s right behind the ladder…she pulls it up and places it underneath the first ladder, setting it in place. This creates additional height. The crowd rises with hope and anticipation. Mike looks toward the ring upon hearing the change in atmosphere…he sees what Andrea is doing. She’s found a way…not a very safe or likely way…but it is a way. Mike realizes he’s got to move. He starts to slowly crawl/climb up the crane~
Smith: And now it’s a race…a race both could lose.
Hood: Mike’s got the safer route…but Andrea’s might be faster.
Smith: Sounds about right.
~Andrea sees Mike climbing. She, like Mike, feels a sense of urgency. She slides out of the ring and finds as many ladders as she can, throwing them into the ring, one after the other. Mike continues to scoot his way up the crane, nearing the top. Andrea starts stacking ladders on top of ladder in the ring, creating a very shaking, very nerve racking path toward immortality~
Smith: Both competitors are under the gun! Whoever grabs that OCW Title will have the advantage and, in Andrea’s case, could win the match!
Hood: Get your ass up there, Mike! Let’s show the entire world that OCW isn’t some goofy ass Disney film. Frogs remain amphibians and street rats get shanked in the night.
~Mike nears the top of the crane. Even a man as confident as Mike shows hesitation at this height. He’s at the apex…the point at which a fall would prove most dangerous. Andrea is slowly climbing the very wonky looking device she’s put together, while dragging the Craze Title. Her light weight and tremendous balance aid her in scrambling up toward the top. Mike reaches the very zenith of the crane. He sits atop the device and looks out at all the tiny people beneath him. He holds an arm up…guy just can’t help himself. The BOOS are thrown toward the heavens, letting Mike know they still despise him. Mike laughs. He looks down and sees Andrea approaching. She, too, is dangerously high…the ladder(s) tremble. But, Andrea fights through fear. She’s focused on attaining that belt. Mike bends over and reaches down…the belt is too far away. He’s going to have to hang from the top~
Smith: I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone as high up, during an OCW event, as these two are at this moment.
Hood: It’s like the Tower of Babel, Smith! They are climbing higher than ever before in an effort to attain heaven on Earth.
~Mike tries to hang from his legs. But this just feels way too risky. So he gets back upright and hugs the Crane for a minute. Andrea finally reaches the top. The ladder shakes…it trembles. The fans watching scream…a few yell out “BE CAREFUL!” Parents are prepared to hide the eyes of their children. Andrea reaches up, touching the OCW Title. She grabs the strap and starts to unhook it. Mike watches on…a second gear kicks in. The OCW Champion can sense the belt being taken from him. He’s flashing back to all those failed title defenses. He drops down, holding on with his hands…his legs dangling dangerously high in the air. Andrea pauses, seeing Mike throwing caution into the wind. She’s got half the strap undone. She’s close! Mike kicks her in the face!! He kicks her again and again…she DROPS the Craze Title!! It plummets all the way down, SLAMMING into the mat. Both Mike and Andrea pause…they’ve got that ‘oh fuck’ look on their face~
Smith: Dang it!
Hood: You’re telling me! Now Mike has to get down from there with the OCW Title to win!
Smith: Andrea was a few notches away from sealing this…now the win is as far away as ever!
~Mike snaps back to the task at hand. He reaches down, grabbing the cable the belt is attached to and lets go of the crane. He manages to hold on to keep from falling…he’s now hanging from the cable, spotting his golden reflection in the OCW belt plate. His feet locate one of the top rungs, opposite Andrea. He lets go and brings his hands down to the top of this ladder structure. The entire thing rumbles. Andrea looks up at Mike…Mike looks back at Andrea…they brace~
Smith: Oh no…the structural integrity of that platform might be giving way!
Hood: I think saying that structure had any integrity might be a stretch.
Smith: Well, yea, it wasn’t the sturdiest of surfaces.
Hood: This is why you shouldn’t let women build things!
~Mike tries to surreptitiously reach for the belt. Andrea catches him and slaps him in the face. Mike retaliates with a punch. The giant ladder structure JOLTS. Andrea reaches up, recovering from the punch…she unhooks the OCW title and holds it to her chest. Mike reaches forward, yanking at it, trying to pry it free. A few SNAPS sound…the ladder starts to moan and wail…he bends…it begins to collapse, vertically. Mike and Andrea, realizing they are about to face serious injury, do the only thing they can think to do. They jump off the ladder…Andrea drops the OCW Title in the process. Both competitors fall a long, long way before SPLASHING INTO THE WATER. The ladder collapses to the ground like a skyscraper razed into memory. The fans gasp…their Pavlovian instincts take over, sending them into a ‘HOLY SHIT’ chant~
Smith: Oh my gosh!!!
Hood: Is Mike okay? Is he okay? We need a medical team over there RIGHT NOW
Smith: What about Andrea?
Hood: Oh forget about her! The star of OCW is in doubt!
~Mike breaches the surface!! The fans BOOOO…fucking heartless bastards. He swims toward the metal grating. The fans suddenly go WILD. We pan over to see Andrea breach the surface…she, too, swims toward the metal grating. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to understand what these corwd reactions mean. Both Mike and Andrea realize it’s a race for those belts. Mike hustles into the ring. Ladders are everywhere. Andrea hops onto the apron. She jumps up, spring boarding off the top rope at Mike…she wraps her legs around his head, looking for a hurricanrana…Mike fights it off. He tries to powerbomb Andrea into the ladders…Andrea punches Mike in the face, doing everything she can to prevent being dropped on these ladders. Mike throws her over his head…she flies backward, landing on the top buckle. Mike starts to kick and throw ladders around, trying to get the titles. The yellow and pink of the Craze Title become visible. Right next to it lies the OCW Title…how convenient! Mike throws ladders into the air…they fly out of the ring, splashing into the water~
Smith: Mike’s found the titles!
Hood: He’s a magician! I bet he knows where Waldo is at all times!
Smith: Andrea’s perched, though…she’s got something planned.
Hood: Hopefully it’s Mike’s celebration dinner!
~With most of the ladders removed, Mike snares the Craze Title. He reaches for the OCW Title…but Andrea comes flying off the top rope with a missile drop kick!!! Mike staggers into the ropes, falling through them, onto the apron. Andrea lands near the OCW Title. She pops to her feet and grabs the belt. She pauses…she looks down at the title. The fans urge her to remain focused~
Smith: And there it is…what it’s all about. Andrea has it in her possession.
Hood: Yea but now she has to get the title she’s owned in order to keep the one in her hands.
Smith: Indeed
~Mike spots Andrea holding his title. The rage is akin to spotting his woman with another man. He pops to his feet and enters the ring. Engulfed with the type of rage that might cloud judgment…Mike charges right toward Andrea. He takes a big swing with the Craze Title. Andrea ducks. Mike turns around…Andrea blasts him with the OCW Title!! The fans go wild!! She hits him again and again and again…his arms hang at his sides…the right hand barely gripping the Craze strap~
Smith: If Mike drops that belt and Andrea picks it up…this is over
Hood: Hold on, Mike!
~Andrea, sensing she needs extra oomph, backs up into the ropes and takes off. She charges at Mike and takes a wild swing. Mike ducks and runs forward. They both hit the ropes on opposite sides…they bounce off…Andrea reaches back with the OCW Title. Mike leaps in the air with the Craze Title over his knee…Andrea lunges forward with a HUGE blow…but Mike gets to her first with a flying Craze covered knee to the face!!! Andrea’s body jerks backward, violently. The back of her head hits one of the remaining ladders, bringing her body to a lifeless halt. Mike, on his back, reaches for his knee. He dropped the Craze Title in the process…he scrambles to grab it. He sees Andrea…the OCW Title now lies just beyond her grasp. He scurries over and secures it!! Mike holds both titles close to his chest as the bell finally rings~
Belvedere: Here is your winner…the NEW OCW Craze Champion and STILL OCW CHAMPION…MIKE BEST!!!!!
Smith: Ah!!!
Hood: Hahah!
Smith: Andrea…no! NO! This isn’t how this was supposed to go!
Hood: This is EXACTLY how it was supposed to go. Mike walked in here and he owned this shit.
Smith: Andrea fought so valiantly. What an effort…only to be penalized by leaving here empty handed.
Hood: That’s life.
~Mike, seated on the mat with both titles, leans against the bottom rope catching his breath. He soaked in water, sweat and emotion. He looks up at the apex of the crane and then down at the mat. He spots Andrea and shakes his head~
Smith: Oh come on…there’s no need for posturing. You won…head home, get some rest.
Hood: Exclamation point time!
~Mike struggles to his feet. He has a title over each shoulder. He hovers over Andrea, looking down at the former Craze Champion. Her eyes are open. There is a slight cut in her forehead, it’s surrounded by swelling. Medics are trying to talk to her, but she’s pushing them all away. Mike throws them out of the way in a more effective and violent manner. He then looks down at Andrea…the fans boo~
Smith: I swear, if that man does anything to further injure her.
Hood: You’ll what? Scream about it on air?
Smith: At the very least!
~Mike extends a hand! The crowd seems uneasy, as does Andrea. Mike lets out a sigh, he bends over and helps Andrea to her feet. The crowd gives an apprehensive pop. Mike raises Andrea’s hand while looking down at her like “You’re fucking tough.” He lets go of her hand and exits the ring with both belts. Andrea stumbles around, holding her head…she bends over…she’s filled with pain and disappointment. The fans, however, give her a huge ovation…they chant her name as a show of support~
Smith: I know it’s tough…coming up short in these matches always is. But you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Andrea. You gave Mike Best the fight of his life.
Hood: I’ve given her a hard time but, fuck it. She’s good. A legit main eventer.
Smith: Indeed…and now Mike Best occupies two titles…which gives the eMpire three belts.
Hood: Life is GOOD
Smith: What a night, fans...a truly incredible affair. As the sun sets on one event...it rises on another. Let's cut to a preview of our next PPV extravaganza.
OCW Presents: Redacted
LIVE! Monday, July 29th 2019
From North Korea
OCW Tag Team Championship
OCW Craze Championship
OCW Paradigm Championship
OCW Savage Championship
OCW Championship
Lilith & Sarah Twilight (c) vs. TBA
Mike Best (c) vs. Ed Houston
Cecilworth M! Farthington (c) vs. The Big Bifford
Vincent Langston (c) vs. Logan
Mike Best (c) vs. Matt Meyhu (c)
Smith: What a show that should be...I just hope we all make it in and out of the location in one piece.
Hood: North Korea is a beautiful and progressive country, Smith. I can't wait to sing it's praises on July 29th!
Smith: Aye caramba...anyway...that's it for us tonight, fans. We'll see you...
~ Suddenly, the classic hit "Africa" by Toto hits the speakers as The Eastern European walks out to the cheers of the crowd. The carnage from the main event has been removed. That’s one hell of a cleaning crew. The fans are singing the infectious song, but start to boo as Welsh makes the signal to cut the music. That's how you get real heel heat.~
Smith: What’s going on? We haven’t seen The Eastern European in over a year!
Hood: I was hoping he got deported.
Smith: He was the on-site GM back in 2017 when Marcus Welsh was too ‘busy’ to attend the shows on a weekly basis.
Hood: Some dark days.
Welsh: E.E.?!?! What the hell are you doing interrupting me like this?!?!
E.E.: All the apologies Mr. Welsh, but I am having the announcement of the biggest of news. The pleasure is being mine to introduce the NEW owner of OCW! Out now he is coming!!
~ E.E. holds his arm out towards the walkway as Welsh looks on curiously. A few moments pass but no one approaches out. E.E. looks embarrassed and Welsh just chuckles. He raises the microphone and starts talking, but it doesn't work. He taps it, but nothing. Welsh tosses it down and asks for another one. Before he gets it....~
~ Welsh looks like he's about to lose his mind as a pissed off looking Zybala walks out. The fans go ballistic when they see the former commissioner. ~
Hood: What's he doing back out here?!? Mr. Welsh fired his ass earlier!
~ Zybala storms his way to the ring as Welsh starts yelling for Knux and security to get to the ring to save him. Zybala gets in the ring and quickly gets in Welsh's face, backing him into a corner. Welsh is cowering as Zybala just glares at him. Knux and security finally get to the ring and drag Zybala away, but don't escort him from the ring. Knux hands Zybala a microphone as Welsh looks confused. ~
Zybala: Thank you Knux. Before I was so rudely interrupted by our new commissioner earlier, I was going to make an announcement.
~ Welsh gets a microphone that works and blows up on Zybala.~
Welsh: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU HAVE TO SAY! I FIRED YOUR ASS EARLIER! Knux! Do your job and get this asshole the Fuck out of my ring!!
~ Knux doesn't move.~
Zybala: Hasn't it sunk it yet? Why isn't he listening to you? Could it be due to the fact that E.E. was about to introduce the new owner, then I walk out?
~ The fans going apeshit as realization dawns on Welsh's face. Horror replaces the anger of the General Manager as he starts shaking his head no.~
Smith: Could it be?!?!
Hood: It couldn't be!! This is a nightmare!
Zybala: He finally gets it! Yes, it's true! Your new OCW owner is none other than....... ME!! So yes Marcus, it DOES matter what I think. You see, earlier in the night when I brought up Buffett wanting to sell the company you were so quick to agitate and get all ‘welshy’ on me that you never allowed me the opportunity to explain. Then, of course, Langston came out and, well, we all saw what happened there.
~Zybala looks into the camera~
Zybala: I owe you one, commish.
~Mike returns to his focal point~
Zybala: Your golden goose covered ALMOST all of the money lost in the sports book. There was a wager placed that didn’t appear on your ledger. Why? Via the request of the commissioner. Now, I don’t know if me gambling on matches is legal, illegal…if it’s a Pete Rose situation…whatever…but I didn’t want to give you any additional ammo. And, it wasn’t like this was some degenerating habit.
~Welsh yells “GET TO THE POINT!” Zybala pauses, smiles and continues~
Zybala: I’m going to love working with you moving forward. Long story short…I had a serious conversation with John E Depth. He told me how much he hated the character Groot. And, well, I don’t know why…but I knew at that moment he was going to defeat Ross Hanson. So, I put everything…and I do mean EVERYTHING I had on John E Depth.
~Welsh laughs. He rolls his eyes saying “Nobody would do that.”~
Zybala: You think I’m not crazy enough to do something like that? Really?
~And, then it hits Welsh. Zybala is TOTALLY crazy enough to put his life savings on a C-level porn star with a total of two wins in his entire career. The fans, seeing Welsh’s reaction give a Bifford-esque pop~
Zybala: So yes I cast that bet and yes I hit…BIG. How big? I’m not going to give specifics. I’ll just point out that upon emptying the BRINKS truck that was backed into my driveway I gave my ole pal Jimmy a call. I knew you were trying to cover your ass. I told him EVERYTHING. And you know what he wanted to do? Not only did he want to sell the company…but he wanted to fire you. But that’s cool…I know you hate me. But I’ve got your back, Marcus. So I was able to work out a deal that would keep you in place as GM.
~Welsh is both hopeful and fearful~
Zybala: By buying Jimmy out and becoming OWNER of OCW! You work for me now, Marcus. That’s what I wanted to tell you before you and Langston tossed me around earlier. Not a good start under your new boss, Marcus.
Smith: Zybala BOUGHT the company?
Hood: Well this sucks
Smith: Welsh’s Sports Room snafu has wound up costing him more than he could have ever imagined!
Hood: Welsh is a blue blood. Ivy league. Business savant. And now…now he works for…Zybala.
Smith: Be careful how you treat people, Hood. I think that’s the lesson here.
~Welsh, as is typical whenever something goes terribly awry, faints. Zybala rolls his eyes saying, “Drama queen.” He throws the mic into the pool and throws a few superkicks in the air as PARTY HARD fires up. The fans go wild chanting ‘ZYBALA!’~
Smith: Vincent Langston is our new commissioner! Mike Zybala is our new owner! The eMpire own three belts! The tectonic plates beneath OCW’s foundation are shifting!
Hood: I don’t like it!!!
Smith: Monday should make for one interesting evening…that’s it for us tonight, everybody! Thanks for joining…we hope you had a good time! For Hood, I’m Smith saying so long and we’ll see you next week as we are back in Key West for Monday Night Massacre!
~Zybala hops onto the top rope and springboards off with a HUGE cannonball into the pool. The fans all jump in with him for a big pool part. We fade to black~