OCW Presents: Piledriver
Wednesday, January 26th, 2022
Live from the OCW Studio

And it’s Wednesday! Once again!

Hump! HUMP! HUMPPPP!

Humpday, right?

All this humpin can only mean one thing...it’s Piledriver!

And it’s not just ANY Piledriver...it’s the Pre-PPV Piledriver!

Woo, that’s a lot of P’s.

Perfect Paul Paras would be proud.

EVEN MORE P’S

Access Denied is THIS Sunday.

So, it’s time to toss it to the OCW Studio where Cheasy M is chilling, ready to tell us what we can expect on Sunday as well as giving us a look back on what we witnessed at our last Pay Per View event.

Let’s go!

~We cut to the OCW Studio. Cheasy M slaps the desk with his hands, happy as always. Dude digs his job~

Cheasy M: Hello everyone and welcome back to Wednesday Night Piledriver! With this being a pre-PPV episode I’m afraid it’s gonna be rather short. But, as always, if you’re jonesing for some OCW action you can always head over to OCW 24/7 for promos and whatnot. It’s all there!

~Cheasy winks after the plug~

Cheasy M: But tonight is about getting you all hyped for Sunday. So, let’s get started.

Cheasy M: That’s right, OCW is kicking things off with Mike Zybala’s Outsiders Battle Royal. 8 competitors will do battle with an opportunity to compete at OCW’s next PPV event on the line. Who are the 8 competitors? Well, let’s take a quick look.

~Cheasy gets a piece of paper~

Cheasy M: Starting things off is 12. He’s the son of an OCW legend. Which legend? He won’t say. He’s apparently a good athlete, playing minor league baseball. He’s hoping to find success in OCW just like his father...whoever that was.

~Cheasy scratches 12 off the list~

Cheasy M: Next up we have DADBOD. Dadbod found a cult following when he entered the Margarita Mix last year. He teamed with Vicky Stone and quickly stole the hearts of OCW faithful. Sadly, his team lost in the first round. But, Dadbod will not let his dream die. He’s back looking to earn a spot on the OCW roster.

~Another name off the list~

Cheasy M: And that brings us to El Knuckle! The mysterious El Knuckle...although he may not be THAT mysterious. There are a lot of people suggesting he’s Thunder Knuckles...former OCW Tag Champion. Hmmmmm...he also wears a mask and might have the worst physique in this match. Which is saying something...yea, I’m looking at you, Dadbod.

~Another game down~

Cheasy M: Then there’s Fanny! Fantasia, as she’s known by some. Fanny earned fame by starting up a fan club for her favorite wrestler, The Wizard. She enjoyed it so much that she’s tried her hand at wrestling a few times. Sadly, each time fame has been a little too much for Fanny to handle...forcing her to turn to drugs. But, she’s back and she appears to be relatively clean and coherent. So here’s to Fanny giving it her all!

~Four names gone. Four to go~

Cheasy M: Max Rotten might be the nastiest competitor in this match. He’s rumored to be related to a couple of hardcore icons. Bearing an apropos last name, Max is looking to work his way into OCW so he can further the legacy he’s rumored to be connected with.

~Max gets scratched away~

Cheasy M: A favorite? Well, don’t tell Meghan Strader that! Sure, she might have the biggest name and longest resume on this list, but she’s getting up in age and has some serious health concerns. Family members and friends are more than a little worried over her inclusion but...you can’t keep a fierce competitor away for too long. Meghan has the fire to take this thing...will her body hold up?

~Only a few names to go~

Cheasy M: If you’re looking for confidence then look no further than Mike Mason. Mason looked like a sure fire contender to go all the way in the Margarita Mix. Sadly, his partner let him down. Now, he’s back. The man’s got everything a pro wrestling promoter desires...looks, athleticism, and wit. Can he put them all together on Sunday and earn a roster spot? If so, it’d be ironic given his nickname is Marvelous. The same used by OCW’s #1 contender, Mario Maurako.

~And we get to the last name~

Cheasy M: Which brings us to the lone representative of Monday Night Equality, Whisper Mendoza. She’s looking to hit the big time on Sunday by winning the Outsider’s Battle Royal. Can Whisper Mendoza silence the critics and continue to CRUSH misogyny? She’ll get her chance.

~Cheasy tosses the paper over his head~

Cheasy M: 8 relative unknowns all vying to become a star. It’ll kick the night off on Sunday...Zybala’s Outsider’s getting prime time exposure. Be sure to tune in as you won’t want to miss this one!

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Once Zybala’s Outsider’s have had their moment, we’ll take you all LIVE to the Grenier Family Farm in Canada (GREAT NATION TO THE NORTH)! It’s on that very farm where Bob Grenier will return to OCW and face ‘The Brat Prince’ Gideon Cross.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: While there isn’t anything on the line, technically...this match looms large for both men. Should Bob Grenier win, he will more than likely vault right back into the main event scene. However, if Gideon were to pull off the win then he’d go from an impressive rookie to a prime time player in one evening. It’s the type of victory that could launch an entire career.

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: These two will compete in an Iroquois Falls Street Fight. Basically, an all out war on the Grenier property. It’ll be cold. There’ll be snow. And there’ll be around 2000 locals in attendance to support the hometown hero. It’s a huge mountain for Gideon to climb...but if he can do it, straight to the top he’ll rocket.

~Another cut. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: And this is where the titles and title shots come into play. Chad Vargas and Curt Canon are set to do battle...two Hall of Famers meeting in the ring for, as best as I can recall, the first time ever. Or, well, kinda. There won’t be a ring as much as there’ll be a fenced area on the streets of Detroit containing two of OCW’s most famous stars.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: What’s at stake? A shot at the OCW Title. Whoever wins this match will, I’m told, get a 1 on 1 shot at the OCW Champion in March. Why March? Well, OCW has a big pyramid match they want to pull off in February. More on that in a second.

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Canon and Vargas are breaking in a brand new match concept. It’s an Emperor’s Gambit...a match contested within a fenced area. Two sets of monkey bars criss crossing overhead. At their intersection rests the briefcase containing the contract for the OCW Title shot. In order to win, a wrestler most obtain the case and exit the fenced area with it in their possession. This match was created in honor of OCW’s favorite monkey, Checkers. There’ll be a lot of pressure on Curt to honor his deceased pet monkey and, of course, there’ll be nobody more eager to ruin the evening than Chad Vargas himself. This one is sure to be an instant classic!

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy: Hey! Did ya hear? OCW is accepting applications. Or, at least the process of submitting applications. Curious about joining? Well, let’s cut to some homemade advertising to lure you in!

~And like that we are swept away to a local city council meeting. We’re not sure what city we’re in...but it’s pretty local. Citizens seated, listening while some elected official talks about numbers and hopes and dreams and goals and whatever the fuck kinda shit that they’ll never be able to come through on. Once she’s finished speaking, she takes a few questions~

Councilperson: Yes, Miss Adams.

Miss Adams: I’m wondering what you guys are going to do about the dead dog on sixth street. It’s been there for three days now and startin to smell. It’s horrible to look at. Can someone please remove it!

~A man jumps up~

Man: What kinda dog is it?

~He’s wearing a sweater with a picture of a Lab on it and the words “Have you seen fluffy?” with a contact number beneath it~

Miss Adams: It’s a…

~Miss Adams pauses when she sees the man’s shirt. The man recognizes the look and he breaks down in tears~

Councilperson: Okay, okay, everybody relax. We’ll get it cleaned up for you, Miss Adams. And we’ll look into the identity of the animal...maybe it’s a rottweiler.

~A person stands up...it’s LEO from OCW~ Councilperson: Sir?

LEO: Yea, what the hell even is all this gibberish? You guys talking about dead dogs and road signs meanwhile the mcflurry machine at the only mcdonalds remains out of service...I WANT JUSTICE.

Councilperson: This is a city council meeting. Do you have a point?

LEO: I do, actually.

~Leo holds up a giant sign that advertises OCW~

LEO: Join OCW! Join OCW today!! Right here, head on over to www.onlinechampionshipwrestling.com/join.html Fill out our application and take part in lots of in ring action!

Councilperson: SIR this is not the time nor the place for such flippant advertisement.

LEO: C’mon and join! Access Denied is on Sunday and we’ve got a super cool pay per view event planned for February!! Let’s go! JOIN

Councilperson: SIR! Authorities, please escort this crazy man out!

~A few officers approach Leo~

LEO: They may silence my voice. But they’ll never silence...MY SPIRIT! JOIN OCW TODAY!

~Several people pull out their phones and visit the OCW site as Leo is dragged away. The councilperson clears her throat. She sees everyone surfing their phones so...she does as well. We fade out~

~We return to Piledriver~

Cheasy M: And we’re back!

Cheasy M: Another big match this Sunday is a Contender’s match between Erin Gordon and The Lost Stranger! TLS and Erin have gone back and forth this month with TLS calling her an unfit mother and likening her to the basketball player, Aaron Gordon. I don’t really know why.

~Cheasy shrugs~

Cheasy M: Erin, meanwhile, won a giant elephant at OCW’s white elephant exchange over the Christmas season. The elephant is named Gregory and I’m told he’s very popular backstage so long as he isn’t defecating everywhere.

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: These two will battle it out on a Rooftop. The match will likely be very high and very dangerous. The winner will get their choice...a shot at the TransAtlantic Championship or a shot at the Craze Title. Totally up to them. TLS hasn’t held OCW gold in nearly 6 years. Erin Gordon has NEVER held OCW gold. So, this is a huge opportunity for both.

~Another camera cut. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: And here’s a big one, folks. On any other night this might be the headliner. But, at Access Denied, it’s merely one of several main event quality matches. Mike Zybala was once owner of this proud promotion. However, ownership was stolen out from under him by his dreaded doppelganger, Mike ZyBALDa. ZyBALDa sold OCW to Gregory Poblano for a lot of money. Now, Zybala is trying to get his promotion back.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: BRIM is another wrestler who feels screwed. He feels he should have never lost his Savage Championship. So, when Poblano approached BRIM about facing Zybala for him, BRIM had just one request. Give him his Savage Championship if he wins. Poblano agreed. However...there’s been some issues.

Cheasy M: Yep, Supreme Machine is still in possession of the OCW Savage Championship. And, Marcus Welsh hasn’t been too eager to reclaim it. In fact, last we saw Marcus Welsh he was calling the BELTSMITH. What’s all this mean? Let’s take a look.

~We cut backstage where Welsh is staring at the Savage Title. But, it’s super new looking...almost TOO new looking. He picks it up and the leather makes a horrid squeaking sound, like it’s never been manipulated or moved around. Welsh drops it. He stares down at it and starts to punch it with his fists. His door opens. Cap Slock enters~

Cap Slock: SIR

Marcus Welsh: Holy shit...you scared me!

~Welsh grabs the belt and hurriedly crams it into the bag it came in~

Cap Slock: I SEE YOU GOT THE BELT FROM SUPREME MACHINE. THAT HAD TO BE TOUGH.

Marcus Welsh: Not really, no. He was very amenable. A super laid back guy. I asked for him to give it, told him it was ours, not his and he was like, “Oh, I’m sorry, here you go.”

~Cap Slock stares at Welsh. That doesn’t SOUND like SuMa~

Marcus Welsh: Totally what happened. Already told Mr. Poblano. We’re good to go with the Savage Title.

~Cap Slock nods. We cut back to Cheasy M~

Cheasy M: So, apparently Marcus Welsh got the Savage Title back from Supreme Machine...but that title looked pretty new, to me. He wouldn’t have...he couldn’t have...did he?

~Cheasy realizes he’s treading on dangerous ground. So, he stops and focuses back on the match~

Cheasy M: Regardless, BRIM will receive a Savage Title if he defeats Mike Zybala on Sunday. But, he’ll have to survive Zybala’s Inferno to do it...three stages of Zybala madness. Outsiders. Exile Island and, finally, The Garden of Betrayal. If he can defeat Zybala in two of those three settings, he will get the Savage Title. Now, how does Supreme Machine feel about this? Well, if Welsh is to be believed, he’s very okay with giving his title back. But, if you’re asking me...there’s more to this story.,

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Which brings us to our first championship match of the night...or, well, guaranteed championship match! Ed Houston defeated three competitors last month at Death March to earn the Craze Title...his third Craze Championship victory. This month, it gets no easier...this month he faces the newest member of the OCW Hall of Fame, PerZag.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: PerZag was named to the OCW Hall of Fame to cap off a great 2021 year for the promotion. An honor long overdue for The Worthiest of Them All. After his induction, PerZag released a statement that he was going to return to the ring to further his legacy. And, well, OCW rewarded his competitive loyalty by giving him a match against Ed Houston.

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Now, normally the champion would have the advantage in this situation. But, this is OCW and you know how OCW is. This match is a No Fly Zone Match meaning no aerial maneuvers. This stipulation hurts Ed far more than it does PerZag, given most of Ed’s offense is through the air. So, can Ed Houston adjust or will PerZag return to the championship winner’s circle in his return match? We’ll find out on Sunday!

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Now, let’s relive Ed’s championship victory inside Sub Zero conditions at Death March. This match airs for the first time on public television!

~We cut outside the Snowking Festival. A giant box is nestled into the thick, high snow. The OCW logo is faint, barely readable due to the frost, ice, and snow building up on top of and around the box. But, it’s clear...this is an OCW manufactured and maneuvered apparatus. And, well, I think we can all guess it’s purpose. It sits several hundred feet from the Festival...isolated. Belvedere’s voice booms out over some strategically placed speakers~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...it is now time for the SUB ZERO MATCH.

~The fans go wild...they’re all inside the Snowking Festival...where, ya know, they won’t freeze to death. A snowmobile drives ahead, through the snow...it pulls a ring shaped sled. Inside is a man covered head to toe in gear suitable for the conditions. On the back, we see a rocket taking off~

Belvedere: The rules for this match are simple. All four competitors will begin inside the Sub Zero Box. The temperature will start out at a BRISK 32 degrees, Fahrenheit.

~The canadians lose their minds~

Canadians: WHAT THE FUCK IS A FAHRENHEIT.

Belvedere: It’s the standard temperature.

Canadians: WE’VE NEVER HEARD OF SUCH A THING...NEVER...NEVER EVER.

Belvedere: Well, in the United States of America, we measure things in Fahrenheit.

Canadians: AMERICA WILL NOT TAKE OVER OUR GREAT NATION TO THE NORTH. THERE WILL BE NO FAHRENHEIT.

~The Canadians are standing firm. They seem strong. Their national pride will not be trampled upon by these southern, american visitors~

Belvedere: Really?

Canadians: YES WE ARE PRETTY SURE WE WILL NOT BACK DOWN ON THIS.

Belvedere: Because it says…

Canadians: OKAY FINE YOU CAN USE FAHRENHEIT JUST PLEASE STOP YELLING AT US.

Belvedere: Oh, okay. That…

Canadians: WE’RE SORRY, OKAY? WE DON’T KNOW WHAT GOT INTO US. TOO MUCH MAPLE SYRUP.

Belvedere: That’s quite alright. Anyway...it will begin at a BRISK 32 degrees Fahrenheit…

~Belvedere waits. The Canadians bow to the American unit of measuring temperature~

Belvedere: And, every minute after the match begins, the temperature will drop. Competitors are free to leave at any point, if the conditions are too harsh. However, if they do, they are eliminated from the match. Eliminations also occur via pinfall or submission. The last wrestler standing will walk out the OCW Craze Champion!!!

~Houston steps out of the tiny ring sled. He hops off the side of the tiny ring into the snow...he’s given a great shock as he sinks waist deep into the snow. If we could see his face, his expression would probably be something like “well, this sucks.”~

Belvedere: Introducing first...from Miami, Florida...standing 5’9 and weighing in at 175lbs...he is a former Paradigm and Craze Champion...he is...Ed Houston!!!

~Houston can’t move. The man on the snowmobile tosses some rope his way. Ed grabs it and he’s pulled out of the snow.. The fans go wild. Houston carefully slithers back to the tiny ring and crawls inside. The fans cheer for his sleuthing. A giant, concrete door opens...snow slides into the structure. Ed looks around...there’s only one way in, that he can figure...so he dives over the top rope and slides, front first down the tiny snow hill, into the box. The fans give him a huge ovation!!! He pops to his feet inside the box...he finds a cold, menacing concrete box with a ring in the middle. The ring looks to be frozen solid...his chest heaves as he takes in the cold, daunting task~

Smith: That doesn’t look fun.

Hood: Yea, Welsh took the 2015 concept and ramped it up to an eleven.

Smith: At least Ed made it inside.

Hood: I don’t know what the fuck BRIM is gonna do.

~Ed’s snowmobile drives away. Another approaches through the thick, driving snow. We zoom in to find BRIM inside the tiny ring-sled. He’s covered head to toe, like Ed. These guys aren’t stupid. His snowmobile pulls up next to the box. He looks inside...he looks down the tiny snow hill that feeds into the rectangular opening which leads into total darkness, from his perspective~

Belvedere: Introducing next...from Baltimore, Maryland...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 385lbs...he is a former OCW Savage Champion...he is...BRIM!!!

~The fans hold their breath...unsure how BRIM’s gonna achieve this entrance~

Smith: He’s made it this far.

Hood: C’mon, BRIM!

~BRIM stands on the tiny apron of the ring-sled. He jumps forward...the big man reminds us all how athletic he is, hitting that snow hill and sliding into the box...however, his near 400 lbs of weight shift the snow quite a bit. Inside, Ed looks around...he hears something, he spins and is toppled by a bunch of snow piling in from BRIM’s slide~

Smith: Ed’s been covered by snow!

Hood: How the hell are these guys gonna compete?

Smith: Very, very coldly.

~BRIM stands and shakes himself off. Houston fights through the pile of snow and looks up...BRIM scoffs and turns his back to Ed, getting away from the entrance. He won’t make Ed’s mistake. Houston fights through the snow, returning to his feet...he finds the other side of the ring, opposite BRIM...they stare at each other, through their goggles...through the ropes, across the ring~

Smith: A lot of clothing covering those two men. Think they can compete with it all on?

Hood: You eager for them to disrobe, Smith?

Smith: That’s not what I meant.

Hood: You want them to TAKE IT OFF? Eh? TAKE IT ALL OFF?

Smith: Shut up

Mortal Kombat!

Smith: WHOA

Hood: Geezus. That came out of nowhere.

~The opening vocals of that amazing song from the (so-so) 1995 movie echo throughout the Snowking Festival and the strategically placed speakers much to the confusion of everyone in attendance. The theme song then kicks in proper, cycling through the names of the characters from the Mortal Kombat franchise, until it stops on...~

Sub-Zero!

~Upon the utterance of the blue ninja's name, the music then switches to Watch Me Shine by Fozzy and everyone finally gets it. A blue snow mobile tears through the driving snow with Dylan Thomas dressed as Sub-Zero with the Craze title round his waist to thunderous cheers (everyone loves Mortal Kombat!). He, like his two opponents, stands inside a tiny ring-sled. We get a split screen of Lissandra watching from inside the Festival, where it’s warm. She’s clearly enjoying absurdity of everything as evidenced by her smile. The ring-sled comes to a halt in front of the cement box. Dylan does a few ninja moves. Lissandra, on her side of the screen, claps...the motions for the fans to get up. The fans in attendance go wild. Dylan then removes his ninja mask sand blows Lissandra a kiss. Lissandra returns the favor. Dylan tosses his mask into the dark opening leading into the cement box. He then springboards off the tiny ring-sled rope and onto the snow hill, sliding into the box~

Smith: He’s not dressed nearly as warm as the others.

Hood: Dylan’s gonna die.

Belvedere: From Hollywood, California...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 225lbs...he is the reigning and defending Craze Champion...he is...Dylan Thomas!!!

~The fans go wild. Inside the cement box, Houston sees the mask fall, innocently to the floor. He walks over, curious. He picks it up...as he does, Dylan comes sliding in, taking his legs out~

Smith: Ouch.

Hood: Ed’s having the worst start to this match.

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m told TLS has not shown up tonight. He is truly lost in the Canadian wilderness, I’m told. So, we are going to start the match without him. Shut the door and let the Sub Zero Match begin!!

~The giant cement door slides down...it lands with a thick, loud thud. Dylan drops to his knees and goes to work on Ed, punching him in his head. BRIM watches on. He’s about to head over when he sees the ring apron move. He drops to one knee and reaches in...he yanks OCW ref GRUFF out from underneath. BRIM is like, ‘da fuck?’~

Smith: And there’s our ref for the match...hiding under the frozen ring.

Hood: I redact my earlier statement. Ed’s start to this match IS rough. But TLS’ start is rougher...he never made it out of the starting gate.

Smith: He never made it TO the starting gate.

Hood: Truth.

~BRIM slings Gruff to his feet and against the thick, frosted cement wall. Gruff is freezing. He was obviously hiding under the ring to stay warm. BRIM ain’t having it. He yells, “Get yo ass up and call the damn match!” Gruff, too afraid to defy the monster, nods. Thomas tries stomping on Ed...to keep him down. His back foot slips. He loses his balance. Houston hurries to his feet. Dylan’s brow furrows...how is Ed not hurt by his assault~

Smith: The layers! The goggles and hoodies he’s got on absorbed most of the blows.

Hood: Oh man, Dylan’s SUPER FUCKED

Smith: Not only is he going to be FREEZING...but he’s got NO layers on.

~Houston, back on his feet, drops the Sub Zero mask and tries to throw a roundhouse kick...but the layers prevent anything remotely damaging from happening. A weak leg to the side is all he can muster. Dylan catches it. Ed hops around. Dylan sweeps Ed’s second leg. He looks to catapult Ed into the giant cement door...Houston scrambles...he gathers some of the snow that fell in from outside...he makes a quick snowball and slings it at Dylan, smacking him right in the face. Thomas stumbles back, tripping over the mound of snow and falling into the freezing pile of slush. It starts to dawn on him...he rolls out of the snow quickly and comes to rest on one knee near the steps. He puts his arm on the steps but pulls it away, quickly. The steps are freezing...he rubs his arms...he’s COLD~

Smith: Poor Dylan. I don’t know how much longer he can last in there.

Hood: How cold is it right now?

Smith: 30 degrees.

Hood: Fuuuuuuck

~Houston returns to his feet...he looks down at Dylan, who is beginning to shiver. Houston points at his layers and says something we can’t really make out. Thomas looks ready to attack...but he holds off. And, for good reason...BRIM snatches Ed from behind, spinning him around and hugging him...he then spins and DRILLS Ed into the cement floor with a belly-to-belly!! Houston hits hard! But, due to the layers, it isn’t nearly as bad as it could be. BRIM pops up and dusts the snow off his giant, thick, purple coat. Once finished, his goggle covered eyes find Dylan. Thomas is like ‘oh fuck’ and he searches under the ring for something...he finds a chair...but it’s frozen to other chairs...he can’t rip it free~

Smith: Everything is FROZEN in there

Hood: Yea, I mean it’s 30...29, now? It’s fuckin cold in there...and it’s surrounded by snow on the outside. Fuckin place is basically an icecube. They’re wrestling inside a giant icecube!

Smith: I mean, that’s one way to put it.

~BRIM matches Dylan’s way. Dylan can’t get the chair free. Suddenly, Houston leaps onto BRIM’s back!! BRIM staggers...he reaches back and grabs onto Ed’s red ROCKET jacket. Thomas stands, unsure of what to do. BRIM rips Ed over his head...Houston flips over...as he does, he legs find Dylan’s shoulders...instinctively, he wraps them around Thomas’ head and flips back, sending Thomas toward BRIM with a Frankensteiner...Dylan flies forward...BRIM ducks and lifts Dylan in the air...his strength plus Dylan’s momentum sends the Craze Champion flying high into the air before he crash lands on the cement. He gasps for air...he winces in pain...he can barely move. BRIM stands upright and turns around. He towers over Dylan and flips him over...Dylan’s chest meets the ice cold cement floor. BRIM rips the Craze Title from the champion’s waist and holds it~

Smith: What a combo! Dylan’s down! He’s freezing! BRIM has the Craze Title!

Hood: I know Japan was a nightmare for Dylan and Lissandra but...it might have been safer than...well, whatever the fuck it is we’re watching right now.

Smith: He definitely would have been more comfortable.

~Lost in the gaze of championship gold...BRIM’s guard is down. Houston charges forward and lifts a knee into the back of BRIM’s purple jacket. BRIM stumbles forward...his footing slides...he drops the belt and reaches out, bracing himself against the freezing concrete wall. Ed hurries forward, grabbing BRIM by the head...he tries to slam him, head first into the wall...but BRIM shoves Ed away...Houston flies through the air, landing in the snow pile at the entrance. He struggles to get out of it...snow flying everywhere. BRIM regathers the Craze Title and he drags it alongside, heading Ed’s way. Thomas is curled up on the ground, shivering~

Smith: I think we might need to pull Dylan from this match.

Hood: That or watch him literally FREEZE to death. Where’s Big Dave when you need him?

Smith: I know he’d protest heavily against it...but let this battle go so you can continue the war. Let’s get Dylan out of there!

~Houston tries to hit BRIM with a snowball...but the goggles make that tactic pretty much obsolete. So, Houston gets on all fours and dives for the Craze Title, grabbing it. BRIM’s forced to try and pull the title away. As they fight over the belt, we focus on Dylan...he’s shivering and barely moving. Gruff checks in on him...Dylan keeps saying Lissandra over and over. We cut to Lissandra...she’s obviously concerned. “Come on, Dylan. Come on.” Those words transmit over the broadcast. The fans start to cheer. “Dylan! Dylan!” His eyes open...he struggles, reaching for the ring apron...but it’s frozen solid...his hand slips away. He manages to get to his feet...he wraps his arms around his body...his body shakes uncontrollably...but determination floods his eyes~

Smith: I don’t know how wise this is...but Dylan isn’t gonna lay down and quit.

Hood: Gotta keep moving. You lay still for too long and you’re finished.

Smith: Indeed.

~Thomas fires up and charges forward. BRIM and Ed turn...Thomas uses the mobility he has from NOT being covered head to toe to launch himself at them, smacking both men in the face with a double knee strike!!! Ed flies backward, flipping over the frozen ring steps. BRIM staggers, dropping to one knee. His goggles are cracked and broken at the middle...the fall from his face, hanging by his neck~

Smith: Dylan’s cracked BRIM’s goggles!

Hood: Well, that’s a start.

Smith: C’mon, Dylan!

~Thomas sees the broken eye wear and he yells out, feeling strong and fired up. He pops back to his feet and runs at BRIM...BRIM, however, pops to both feet and he hip tosses Dylan into the pile of snow near the front door. Dylan is covered by the snow pile. The fans scream and gasp~

Smith: NO!

Hood: That’s it. He’s a perfect popsicle.

Smith: We need help in there...NOW

~Angry, BRIM rips his fucked up goggles off his head and slings them against the wall. His eyes are exposed...but the rest of his face is covered by cloth. He locates and picks the Craze Title back up. It’s near the steps. As he does, Houston pops up from the other side...he grabs BRIM by the back of the head and drops him with a facebuster atop the frozen steps!! The ice surrounding the steps shatters like glass, falling all over the concrete floor...BRIM stops to both knees before hitting all fours…his shakes his head, stunned. Houston hops atop the suddenly not-so-slick steps and he leaps off with a double foot stomp onto BRIM’s back, flattening the big man out. Houston’s feet find the ground...next to them is the Sub Zero Mask. He picks it up and looks over...Dylan Thomas crawls, weakly, out of the snow. He can barely move, at this point...he’s too fuckin cold. Ed chuckles and he flings the mask at Dylan...it hits him in the face...some white power flies into the air~

Smith: Houston getting a little arrogant...kicking the Craze Champion while he’s down.

Hood: I like it. I like this side of Ed. This is the side that beat Mack O’Connor at Throwback!

~Dylan sniffles. He takes some of the white powder in. As he does, Houston turns his back to the Craze Champion...he, like BRIM, doesn’t see Dylan as much of a threat at this point. So, Ed goes back to work on BRIM, stomping the back of his head. We suddenly cut outside the ice box~

Smith: Umm...why are we back outside?

Hood: I...wait...is that a person walking through the snow...ON STILTS?

Smith: I...I think it is.

~IT IS! We zoom in to find The Lost Stranger on stilts, hiking through the snow. He reaches the ice box. He knocks on the door, trying to get in~

Smith: Sorry, TLS. You’re too late.

Hood: I bet he’s got a story.

Smith: He’s ALWAYS got a story.

~TLS knocks again, trying to get into the match. He pauses. He senses something. He turns around on his stilts to find a number of moose staring at him through the snow~

Smith: Uhh

Hood: Well, this can’t be good

~TLS works the gloves on his hands...the moose let out some kind of yell. TLS marches their way...they charge at him. We cut away, back to the icebox~

Smith: Interesting and strange subplot during what’s a pretty awesome match.

Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY

~Dylan continues to breath in the mysterious white cloud of dust that flew from his Sub Zero Mask. Suddenly, his eyes open wide and he sits up. He turns, facing Houston. Dylan rises...he doesn’t look cold any longer...he looks strong as an ox. Thomas beats his chest and yells “MORTAL KOMBAT!” Houston stops stomping BRIM...he turns...Dylan charges and SPEARS Ed into the ring apron!!! Houston lets out a loud grunt, through his layers. Dylan stands upright and he rips Houston’s ROCKET jacket open at the front...he yanks it off of Ed and he quickly puts it on. The fans go wild~

Smith: Dylan Thomas has stolen Ed’s jacket!

Hood: GAME CHANGER

Smith: Look at the energy...he’s got his second wind.

Hood: Or, ya know, he got just enough of that Yakuza blow

~Houston’s initial reaction is “Holy shit it’s cold” once the giant coat has been ripped from him. But, he’s still got a thick, warm sweater type outfit on that covers his head, ears, and mouth...and his goggles...which survived Dylan’s knee. He kind of looks like a woolly scuba diver...from the waist up. Thomas drills Houston in the gut with a knee. He spins Ed around and slings him into the ring under the bottom rope...Houston damn near slides across the entire ring, atop the frozen canvas~

Smith: And finally someone is taking this match into the frozen ring.

Hood: Dylan, man. He’s perfection personified...he’s got to try and make a ‘match’ out of this.

Smith: His odds have gone from zero to a definitely maybe.

Hood: And people say drugs are bad. This is visual proof that drugs are helpful.

Smith: I wouldn’t go that far.

Hood: Are drugs legal in Canada?

Smith: These people aren’t savages, Hood.

Hood: I dunno...they use Celsius. That’s pretty savage.

~Thomas rolls into the ring. He gets to his feet but it’s...well, it’s slippery. Frozen surfaces and all. He’s wearing the boots that came with the Sub Zero costume...not much grip on ice. He slides and skates toward Ed...bending over and pulling Houston up by the back of his goggles. He delivers a HUGE knife edged chop across Ed’s chest. Houston slips back and nearly wipes out. Dylan delivers his signature Cocky Slap to the Mush!!! Houston slips forward, into Dylan...Thomas jumps up, places both knees into Houston’s gut and drops back with PERFECT FINISHER!!! The entire canvas shatters, like the stairs...the ice covering the top breaking into a thousand particles of snow!!! It covers both Thomas and Houston. We hear the fans inside the Festival go wild~

Smith: Thomas just hit his finisher...but he’s covered in snow. As is Ed...can he make the cover?

Hood: Moreover...will Gruff make the count?

Smith: True...I haven’t seen Gruff since BRIM yanked him out from under the ring.

~Thomas fights through the snow...he kicks it off and struggles to all fours. He finds Ed laying within the snow, breathing heavily...he looks to be out, momentarily. Dylan slides and slips, crawling over...but he makes the pin. He looks around for a ref. He yells out, “GRUFF!” BRIM looks over the ring apron from outside, surveying what’s taken place. He’s wincing from Houston’s earlier attack. He feels something...he reaches down and pulls Gruff out from under the ring again!! BRIM stands and slings Gruff into the ring yelling, “MAKE THE COUNT!” Gruff tumbles atop the snow covered canvas until he comes to rest near Dylan and Ed. He makes the count~

1!

2!

3...NO!

KICK OUT

Smith: Ed kicked out!

Hood: Well, yea...I mean it took Gruff half an hour to get in there.

Smith: At least the canvas is cleared of the ice that made it unworkable. These guys can now...ya know, maybe get a few more moves in.

Hood: WEAK ASS BOOKING

~Thomas is furious. He grabs Gruff and pulls him to his feet...the alleged cocaine in his system has him more volatile than usual. Gruff tries to get him to back off. Houston sees the opportunity and he rolls Thomas up!!! Gruff drops to his knees to make the count~

1!

2!

3!!

NO!

Smith: WOW

Hood: Okay, maybe drugs ARE bad.

Smith: OF COURSE THEY’RE BAD

~Thomas and Ed both scramble to their feet...having trouble moving as efficiently as usual due to the snow. They reach their feet...but, before they can lock up or brawl, they turn and are immediately run over by BRIM!! BRIM takes both men down with a double clothesline...they hit the ring, HARD. BRIM stands over them...we see the sides of his eyes beginning to ice up a bit due to the ever decreasing temperature inside that box~

Smith: How cold is it, now?

Hood: Fuck if I know.

Smith: I’m being told we’re down to 18 degrees.

Hood: PHHHHHHHUCK

~Thomas tries to get up first. BRIM grabs the back of his jacket, gripping the rocket logo..he yanks it off Dylan’s back, exposing him once again to the harsh, freezing elements. BRIM rips the jacket up and tosses it out of the ring. Dylan gets to his feet and he begins to punch and chop BRIM in the chest...but his thick, purple coat absorbs most of the punishment. BRIM finally reaches out, he grabs Dylan by the head...he lifts him up and he tosses him out of the ring all the way to the snow pile at the front of the concrete box. Dylan hits HARD! He tumbles, painfully through the snow before his body comes to rest against the freezing concrete. BRIM isn’t finished...he heads for Dylan...he drops to the mat and rolls under the bottom rope. He towers over the downed Thomas...BRIM bends down and grabs the back of Dylan’s Sub Zero costume...just below the neck...he yanks down, ripping it open! BRIM proceeds to rip and pull the entire upper portion of the Sub Zero costume off Dylan’s body. His white, shivering upper torso is now fully exposed to the elements~

Smith: Sheesh

Hood: Dylan Thomas is having a bad day.

Smith: I definitely think this will prevent the Thomas family from ever moving north of Hollywood.

~BRIM turns to head back into the ring. But, Ed is already on his feet...The Rocketman is looking to take flight!!! He runs toward BRIM...he leaps up and tries to springboard off the top rope...but he loses his balance, due to the frozen ropes...he tumbles forward. BRIM catches him and drops him onto the concrete with a Samoan Drop!!! Houston groans in pain, immediately curling up, clutching his midsection. BRIM sits up, rubbing the ice from his eyes. Thomas fights through the snow...his skin is looking very white...his muscles are trembling...his hair, wet from the snow and a bit of perspiration, begins to harden and freeze~

Smith: Dylan isn’t looking so great.

Hood: He’s turning into a White Walker!

Smith: No he’s not!

~Dylan rises from behind BRIM, who is still seated on the concrete. Thomas continues to shiver. He steps forward, reaching for BRIM’s head...but BRIM immediately turns around, hopping to his feet..he shoves Dylan back...BRIM charges forward with a huge shoulder tackle!!! Dylan’s body flies back and SLAMS into the concrete side of the box...his battered, freezing bones tumbles back into the snow. BRIM kicks some of the snow around his feet onto Dylan, covering him up~

Smith: Poor Dylan...he doesn’t have his full range of motion. His muscles...the blood flow...it’s slowing. It’s tightening.

Hood: He’s about to become an ice sculpture. “Here kids come take a look at the Dylan Thomas sculpture...isn’t it perfect?”

Smith: Like frozen taxidermy

Hood: Fuck off with that shit. Taxidermy is creepy as fuck.

~BRIM pulls Ed up and slings him back into the ring, under the bottom rope. BRIM rips at the frozen ring apron, breaking the ice away. He reaches down for one of the chairs Dylan tries to acquire earlier...BRIM’s strength is able to yank the chair away from the others, breaking the icy bond...he slides it into the ring and rolls back inside. Gruff, meanwhile, crawls over, outside the ring, and checks on Dylan...he wipes and knocks the snow off to find a shivering Dylan...his eyes are closed. Hypothermia appears close to setting in~

Smith: Okay, we gotta get him out of there.

Hood: He has to quit, Smith. Thems the rules!

Smith: HE’S GONNA DIE

Hood: He’ll die a Canadian hero.

~BRIM reaches his feet in the ring. Houston is on one knee, pushing the snow away, trying to stand. BRIM grabs the chair. He reaches back and he CRACKS Ed across the back with the chair!! The ice frozen to the chair shatters, flying through the air and lands on the mat. Houston collapses, front first on the mat, amidst the ice. BRIM violently shoves the chair onto the mat, positioning it as a potential landing spot for Ed’s body. Meanwhile, we cut back to Dylan...the situation is getting worse~

Smith: Somebody, help this man!

Hood: He’s taking that Sub Zero gimmick pretty seriously. Was that ninja cold blooded or did he just have some blue in his suit?

Smith: Pretty sure his temperature wasn’t sub zero.

Hood: Well, that’s good to -

Smith: HOLD ON

Hood: What?

~BRIM pulls Ed’s injured body off the snow covered mat. He hoists Ed onto his shoulders...he starts to position Houston with the chair directly beneath him~

Hood: BRIM’s going to drop Ed with CRACKIN NECKS on the chair! Smith? SMITH!

Smith: Hood, I’m being told that word has come from the Thomas camp that they are throwing in the towel!

Hood: Are you fuckin serious?

Smith: That’s what I’m being told.

Hood: Was it Lissandra? I can’t imagine anyone else having that kind of authority.

Smith: I wasn’t privy to those details.

~Houston begins to wiggle...he’s been in the business long enough to know certain defeat awaits him if he doesn’t do SOMETHING. BRIM’s purple coat continues to restrict his range in motion...Ed’s able to get free!! He drops to the mat and tries to pull BRIM over for a pin. But, BRIM jumps into the air, looking to drop his ass on Houston...but Ed rolls away!!! BRIM’s ass lands RIGHT ON THE CHAIR!! He grimaces and falls to his side, wincing in pain. The fans can be heard going “OOOOOOHHHHHH”. That had to hurt~

Smith: BRIM missed! And now, he’s paying the price!

Hood: Tailbone bruise at best. Visit to the proctologist, at worst.

Smith: Hood, look!

~The giant door begins to open. Gruff, shivering as he is, communicates via microphone to the OCW HQ inside the Snowking Festival~

Smith: They are going to remove Dylan from this match.

Hood: Did we get CONFIRMATION that someone from his team threw in the proverbial towel?

Smith: I can’t say. I’d assume so.

Hood: But you don’t KNOW

Smith: Who can say...communication with HQ is tough out here, through all this snow. Lissandra, obviously, isn’t at ringside for visual clarification. But, what I do know, is that a man is literally freezing to death and he needs help.

Hood: Dylan would disagreed

~A rope is tossed into the giant, cement box...down the snow. Gruff ties it around Dylan’s waist. Dylan looks up...first time he’s looked conscious in awhile. He tries to figure out what’s going on...suddenly, he starts to get pulled out of the match. His eyes widen...he fights...he tries to break free~

Smith: Dylan is NOT okay with this

Hood: Of course not...this match is for HIS title and it’s being taken from him.

Smith: The conditions, Hood. He can’t sustain.

Hood: LET HIM TRY

~Thomas is pulled out of the match and the door shuts, trapping BRIM and Houston inside, once again. Belvedere’s voice booms out~

Belvedere: Due to health concerns, Dylan Thomas has been removed from this contest.

Fans: BOOOOOOOO

Smith: These fans are NOT happy

Hood: Neither am I. This is fuckin bullshit. He went to Japan for that suit.

Smith: Well, he probably should have gone to Canada and bought some sweaters.

Hood: You are a heartless asshole.

~Outside the cement box, the OCW member on the snowmobile sees the shape Dylan’s in. The snow is coming down ridiculously thick and fast. He sees a light nearby...the quicker they can warm Dylan up, the better. He drives toward the light. It takes him to a recently constructed tent. The man hops off and carries Dylan inside. Upon entering, they find TLS inside the tent, seated next to a blazing fire, cooking what appears to be a moose leg~

Smith: Okay.

Hood: Damn, TLS handled that group of moose like a fuckin pro.

Smith: Is this the start of a spinoff show where TLS battles the wilderness?

Hood: One can only hope.

~Dylan is placed in front of the fire...he lays on his side, shivering. The ice around his body starts to soften and melt. TLS just looks at him, taking a giant bite out of a piece of moose leg. We cut back to the match~

Smith: Is moose even good? Healthy to eat?

Hood: Probably healthier than cow. Definitely healthier than pig.

~BRIM sits back up, wincing, reaching for his backside. Houston rolls onto the apron. He sees an opportunity. BRIM slowly stands...Houston jumps up, looking to springboard into METEORA...but, again, he slips!! BRIM catches him, spins around and plants Ed into the snow covered mat with a SPINEBUSTER!!! He smothers Houston for the pin...Gruff crawls into the ring and makes the count...his hand slapping into the snow~

1!

2!

KICK OUT

Smith: Houston survives!

Hood: Ed can’t jump off those ropes...they’re frozen. If he can’t fly, he’s fucked.

Smith: The Rocketman has been grounded, apparently.

~BRIM pops to his feet...he seems frustrated with his jacket...it keeps getting in the way. So, he takes the giant, purple, puffy thing off and flings it out of the ring. A few of the female fans in attendance cheer. BRIM doesn’t give a shit. He, like Ed, still has one a pretty solid sweater, covering everything but his eyes...which continue to show frost around their edges, due to frozen tears. BRIM leans into the nearest corner. Houston is on all fours, fighting to his feet...BRIM marches forward before leaping into the air and coming down on Ed with a huge splash!!! The ring shivers from impact. BRIM pushes up to his knees and he locates the chair~

Smith: If Ed can’t fly then, yea...I don’t think he’s got much of a chance in this thing. BRIM’s too big and too strong.

Hood: And he’s got a chair.

Smith: Yes, Hood. He has a chair.

~Houston is on all fours once again...hard to keep THE ROCKETMAN down. He gets to his feet. BRIM marches ahead with the chair...Houston leaps up and delivers a dropkick!!! He kicks the chair into BRIM’s face!!! BRIM drops the chair and staggers! The fans go wild! Houston returns to his feet...he smacks BRIM in the head with an Enziguri!!! BRIM drops to one knee...Houston takes a few steps back...he charges forward and cracks BRIM in the head with a SHINING WIZARD!! The big man is down!!! He falls to his side and winds up on his back!! The fans are going wild! Houston points toward the nearest corner...should he? SHOULD HE TAKE FLIGHT?~

Smith: Can Ed jump off that corner...or is it too slick?

Hood: Does he have a choice?

Smith: True. I’m not sure he can keep BRIM down any other way.

Hood: He must fly. And he’ll try because, well, if there’s one thing we all know about Ed…he ain’t afraid of crashing.

~Houston slides under the ropes onto the apron. He begins to climb the nearest corner. His foot slips...he holds on to the frozen ropes. He tries again and throws his upper body over the top buckle for leverage. He pulls himself up...the ropes aren’t moving...they are frozen solid. He gets to his feet...he looks down at BRIM. Houston lets out a breath as evidenced by the giant cloud of smoke that appears. He bends his knees~

Smith: Here we go...BLASTOFF!!

Hood: He’s gonna try.

~Ed’s FOOT SLIPS!! He winds up crotched on the top buckle!! The fans groan...not good. BRIM sits up. He returns to his feet and marches toward Ed...he shoves the side of Ed’s head, sending the Rocketman off the top rope, onto the apron, which he bounces off...he finally lands on the cement floor. BRIM drops to the mat and slides under the bottom rope~

Smith: As long as those ropes...those corners are frozen, Ed has no chance. How cold is it in there, Hood? Any chance of those things thawing out?

Hood: Uh, no? I mean, it’s like 3 degrees in there right now.

Smith: Wow, we’ve nearly reached zero.

Hood: Yes. Sub Zero is nearly upon us.

Smith: And BRIM has the advantage in what he’s able to do...plus, with all that extra mass, his body will remain warmer than Ed’s.

Hood: Sometimes being large is an advantage.

~BRIM pulls Houston up and whips him into the cement wall. Houston hits hard!!! BRIM charges forward and jumps, slamming his body into Ed, crushing him against the cold cement. He doesn’t let Ed fall...instead, he whips Ed toward the apron...Houston’s back crashes against the edge of the ring apron. BRIM measures Houston up...he’s about to deliver a move when Houston instinctively hops onto the apron and rolls back into the ring. BRIM slaps the apron in frustration...but he slides back into the ring to stay after Houston~

Smith: Smart move by Ed...less danger inside the ring.

Hood: Yea, but he could jump off the apron or some shit outside...I think I’d rather be out there.

Smith: Not a ton of options, really. The Rocketman is running short on outs in this one.

~Houston’s sweater is beginning to show frozen spots, from sweat that’s bled through and hardened. BRIM’s eyes are nearly surrounded by ice. His breath shoots out from the cloth covering his nose and mouth in giant, angry clouds of ‘smoke’. He’s on his feet now...and he’s standing over Houston. He reaches down and grabs Ed by the head...Houston is desperate. So, he pulls out the most desperate move in wrestling...he hits Brim with a LOW BLOW!!! The big man doubles over~

Smith: Oh no!

Hood: Ah shit, BRIM’s gotta be having flashbacks.

Smith: Yep, Xavier Lux used BRIM’s groin against him to earn a win at Quarantined.

Hood: Dude really should start wearing a cup...or some type of genital protection.

~Houston pops to his feet. He leans back against the frozen ropes and runs forward...he jumps up and cracks the doubled over BRIM in the face with a knee lift!!! BRIM straights up...he staggers back, swinging his arms. Houston steps back and runs forward with a lariat!! BRIM takes a step back...stumbling. Houston takes a few steps back and he runs forward with a flying clothesline!!! BRIM takes three steps back...he’s on his heels...he’s about to fall. Houston slaps the mat and returns to his feet...he throws his fist in the air to a HUGE OVATION. He runs forward...but BRIM leaps up and he turns Ed inside out with a SPINNING HEEL KICK!!! Houston is face down on the mat. BRIM hits the mat, HARD. The fans, as always, are shocked and impressed with BRIM’s athleticism~

Smith: People often forget that...as big as that man is, he’s scary athletic.

Hood: He can move better than a lot of high flyers.

Smith: Indeed.

~BRIM rises to one knee...he takes a pause for the cause, shaking off the punishment Ed’s dished out to this point. He looks over. Houston opens his eyes and he sees BRIM...Ed slides himself into the nearest corner, leaning against the bottom buckle. BRIM’s eyes flare with an idea. He rises~

Smith: Uh oh. Ed’s in a bad spot.

Hood: BRIM’s about to make a huge announcement...CANNONBALL

~BRIM measures Ed up and he charges forward with Between A Rock & Hard Place (Inverted Cannonball Senton to seated opponent in the corner)!!! He throws his body at Houston...but Ed moves!!!! BRIM’s near 400 pounds hit the buckle and with tremendous force...so much force that the ropes and corners all shake, violently, breaking the frozen ice away!! The ice surrounding the ropes and buckles shatters and flies through the air. Houston, laying on the mat, feels the ice falling down on top of him. He sits up, realizing what’s happened. He looks over...BRIM has rolled near the center of the ring, on his back~

Smith: BRIM’s miss...and the weighted impact has removed the ice from the ropes and corners!

Hood: SHIT...worst miss ever.

Smith: Ed’s got a shot!

~Houston hops to his feet...he flies through the ropes...he climbs the nearest corner with ease. He looks down at BRIM. He wastes no time...he bends his knees and launches off the top rope with the highest, best Shooting Stat Press in OCW...otherwise known as BLASTOFF! He CONNECTS!!! The ring shakes from impact. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings. The crowd goes wild~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND THE NEW OCW CRAZE CHAMPION...ED HOUSTON!!!!!

Smith: Ed did it! BRIM’s missed knocked the ice from the ropes and buckles allowing Ed to fly high!

Hood: Fuck. I thought BRIM had this one.

Smith: I’d say its his best effort since Quarantined. Unfortunately, Ed put forth his best showing since...well, probably 2019.

Hood: Well, at least we had a hell of a match. These two men are main eventers...no doubt.

Smith: No doubt.

Hood: But, fuck...poor Dylan.

Smith: Yea, I’m still not sure what happened there. In fact, I’m being told that Lissandra is saying she DIDN’T throw in the towel.

Hood: WHAT?

Smith: Yea, so, I dunno. Controversy for sure.

~Houston exits the ring and he locates the Craze Title under some snow. He tosses it over his shoulder and he pounds on the giant cement door, ‘GET ME OUT OF HERE’. He’s fuckin freezing. The door opens and a rope is tossed at his feet...he grabs it and is pulled out. This just leaves BRIM. He sits up, shaking his head...so close, once again~

Smith: The hard luck continues for BRIM.

Hood: This guy is all heart, Smith. He took the fall for Duce. He’s continually putting himself out there only for the world to just kind of ignore him.

Smith: It’s weird to say but even coming off this fresh loss I can’t help but think he’s as close to the OCW Title as he’s ever been right now.

Hood: Stay the course, BRIM. Stay the course.

Smith: Indeed.

~BRIM, exits the ring and is tossed down several thick ropes for his exit. He grabs them and is removed from the match. Gruff is left to climb out. We get one final shot of the interior of the giant, cement, freezing cold structure that was built and placed solely for this match. It’s definitely below zero at this stage. The ring begins to freeze over once more. The ropes do the same. A giant gust of wind from outside blows more snow inside...the giant, cement door falls shut, consuming out view in darkness. We transition away~

Cheasy M: And we’re back!

~Some slightly sad music begins to play~

Cheasy M: Before we continue hyping Access Denied...I’ve got some news to report. This will be the last episode of Piledriver for the foreseeable future. Because…

Cheasy M: Yep, Massacre is back. And I know what you’re saying “OH NOES THIS MEANS OCW IS IN TROUBLE”. Yea, maybe it does. But whatever, when did that ever stop the powers that be from making decisions?

~Camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: OCW will be hitting the road in February. The Road to Carpe Noctem. Carpe Noctem will take place in Death Valley. So, the three Mondays before Carpe Noctem will all feature a Massacre from a location heading out in that direction. The locations?

Monday, February 7th – Roswell, New Mexico
Monday, February 14th – Bedrock City, Arizona
Monday, February 21st – Last Vegas, Nevada

And then, we settle in Death Valley for Carpe Noctem featuring the Pyramid Scheme Match. February will be a can’t miss month...so get ready, fans. OCW hits the road for the first time since 2014!

~Camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: And now, back to Access Denied. Yes, fans...Veronica Strader is back and she’s the TransAtlantic Champion. This Sunday, she’ll defend her championship against Dylan Thomas. Dylan hoped to enter 2022 as the Craze Champion...sadly, he did not dress near appropriate enough for Sub Zero temperatures and was forced to forfeit his belt at Death March.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: Now, he looks to earn another championship as he faces Veronica Strader for the TransAtlantic Title. These two will compete in a Mean Streets of Detroit Match...basically, a brawl throughout Detroit. The objective is to locate the TransAtlantic Title and return it to a secret ‘safe’ location. Whoever does this first, wins!

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Back to Veronica...she returned to OCW last month at Death March in shocking fashion. And, in doing so, she earned the TransAtlantic Title. Let’s take you back to Death March and Veronica’s shocking return.

Smith: And what a night we’ve had so far, fans.

Hood: Been a fuckin sausage fest, man. So misogynistic.

Smith: Not very equal, no.

Hood: ZERO EQUALITY

Smith: Well, that’s about to change. It’s TransAtlantic Championship time!

Hood: Let the equality run wild!

Smith: Whisper Mendoz and Fuckin Wendy are about to do battle for the vacant TransAtlantic Championship...two female stars who…

~ “Personal Jesus” by Gravity Kills hits. The fans inside the Snowking Festival all stand, huddling together to keep warm. Stepping out from the darkness that is the freezing cold backstage area is MARCUS WELSH. He’s covered head-to-toe to retain warmth. He marches through the snow, toward the ring. He reaches the platform surrounding the ring and hustles up the steps, before stepping through the ropes. Standing underneath the overhead heaters, Welsh’s body shivers, enjoying the uptick in temperature. A mic finds its way into his hands~

Marcus Welsh: Hello OCW!

~WOOOOO~

Marcus Welsh: Yes, Woo indeed. We’re back doing it like nobody else...entertaining millions of people with the most unique, individual, and entertaining brand of pro wrestling in the history of the sports existence. But...BUT...one thing has been missing.

~The fans wear question marks on their faces~

Marcus Welsh: EQUALITY

~They Canadians go wild. They love their equality~

Marcus Welsh: So, without further ado...let’s bring out the two female competitors who will, umm, compete for the Vacant TransAtlantic Championship.

~Welsh tugs at his collar. He removes his scarf, tossing it aside. He unzips his jacket to reveal the TA title around his waist. The fans cheer~

Marcus Welsh: Belvedere...let’s hear it!

~We cut to Belvedere who is inside his snug snow vehicle. He leans into a mic~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...the following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL...and, it is for the OCW TransAtlantic Championship!!! Introducing first…

~A very unique rendition of Careless Whisper. Anyway, Whisper Mendoza dressed in a cute parka and those yoga pant type leggings women wear to get men in trouble struts her way down the ramp and toward the ring. She slides in, super giddy and excited over her opportunity~

Belvedere: She’s the breakout star of Monday Night Equality…she’s…Whisper Mendoza!!!

~The fans pop. Whisper throws her arms in the air~

Belvedere: And, her opponent…

~The crowd goes wild as FUCKIN WENDY struts to the ring wearing next to nothing. She’s got a shirt tied up just below her tits…it’s a giant maple leaf. She skips to the ring with every man leaning forward in their seats trying to get a closer look. She slides into the ring and pops to her feet~

Belvedere: And, her opponent…she’s the most notorious member of Monday Night Equality…give it up for FUCKIN Wendy!!!

~Belvedere exits~

Smith: It’s TransAtlantic Title time between Effin Wendy and Whisper Mendoza.

Hood: Fuckin Wendy, you can say it. C’mon.

Smith: I refuse!

~The fans are dual chanting “Let’s go Whisper!” and “FUCKIN WENDY”. Whisper smiles. Fuckin Wendy hops around, yelling at Whisper to come at her. Marcus Welsh, standing outside the ring, on the platform, still wielding the mic, speaks~

Marcus Welsh: Whoa whoa WHOA

~Everybody is confused. Whisper tries to say something, but she’s whispering, so nobody can hear it. Fuckin Wendy yells out, “LET’S FUCKIN GO.” Welsh tugs at his collar again, his forehead is beginning to sweat. He slowly removes his thick coat, tossing it aside~

Marcus Welsh: I almost forgot. Why stop at two? When it comes to equality, nothing is more equal than a threesome! So, let’s get our third competitor out here...she’s down from the rafters and ready to blow your minds. Folks...it’s Jane Doe!!

Belvedere: And their opponent…. She is The Calamity of the Rafters… sexiest Guy Fawkes you have ever seen… JANE DOE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~The fans cheer for what seems to be a relatively new addition to OCW who has her best to entertain the fans with all the new changes that have come from The Great Purge. “A Like Supreme” begins to play at the 27 second mark as it begins to speed up the fans pop as out comes Jane Doe riding a moose!~

Smith: And she shows up on a moose.

~Jane hops off her moose, and heads to the ring. She glances at both Fuckin’ Wendy and Whisper Mendoza but they can’t tell who she is looking at.~

DING DING DING!

~Jane Doe not wasting anytime throws a haymaker that connects with Whisper Mendoza sending her down to the mat hard and the only two standing now is referee and Jane Doe. Wendy is up quickly though, diving at Jane Doe with an MMA takedown into a Lou Thesz press and she begins to pound away at Jane Doe's temples with fury. Whisper Mendoza hits the ropes delivering a running dropkick that sends Wendy through the ropes and to the outside. Mendoza picks up Jane Doe to a vertical base and begins to pepper her with lefts and rights until she is in a corner. Mendoza looks behind her to make sure Rich isn't behind her before Irish whip Jane Doe into the opposite turnbuckles. Jane Doe reverses the whip and Whisper is sent careening to the corner. Jane Doe goes to charge at Mendoza, but Fuckin’ has grabbed her foot from under the bottom rope. Jane Doe stomps down on the hand, but Fuckin’ manages to release the foot just in time. Jane Doe turns back to Mendoza, but is met by a spear to the ribs. The force of the spear sends Jane Doe through the ropes into the waiting arms of Fuckin’ Wendy. Wendy catches Jane Doe in a full nelson and slams her down to the metal surface at ringside.~

Smith: HUGE Slam by Fuckin Wendy.

Hood: Wendy Fucks. Confirmed.

~Whisper Mendoza gets up from the spear that she gave Jane Doe and is standing in the ring alone, as referee begins the mandatory ten count. Whisper Mendoza hits the opposite ropes and rebounds with a leap over the top rope taking Fuckin’ Wendy down with a suicide dive into a bulldog that slams Fuckin’'s head face first into that thin padding. Wendy rolls off of Fuckin’ and looks down at her handy work when her is grabbed from behind by Jane Doe. Mendoza's eyes go wide as she is spun around and Jane Doe slams a fist into Mendoza's midsection doubling her over from the force. Jane Doe delivers an uppercut to the bent over Mendoza which causes her to stumble then fall over the downed Fuckin’ Wendy. In the ring, referee has gotten up to a count of two. Jane Doe steps over Fuckin’ towards Whisper Mendoza. Fuckin’ grabs the ankle of Jane Doe once more, halting hers progress for a second time in this match. referee has gotten to a count of "Three" inside the ring. Jane Doe stomps down on the hand, but once again Fuckin’ releases the ankle but punches the back of Jane Doe's knee sending her down to the padding. Fuckin’ rolls over to her knees delivering a right jab to Jane Doe's jaw, Jane Doe delivers a slow but deliberate punch to Wendy's jaw. Meanwhile, Whisper Mendoza has gotten up to her feet and climbs to the top turnbuckle, these two women only have fury for each other and intend on causing as much damage as they can to each other before one or the other kills the other two women. Mendoza leaps from the top rope with a cross body taking out the two women. Mendoza rolls Fuckin’ into the ring and begins to go to work on the equality roster member.~

Smith: Whisper Mendoza taking control. She may speak softly but she carries a big stick.

Hood: You saying she knows how to handle a big stick?

Smith: Don't put words into my mouth!

Hood: You say she likes to stuff...

Smith: ENOUGH

~Mendoza pulls Fuckin’ up to her feet Irish whipping her into the ropes as Wendy returns, Mendoza nails her with a running STO that takes her down to the mat. Mendoza pulls Fuckin’ back up delivering a picture perfect neckbreaker to Wendy's injured neck that takes her down to the mat. Mendoza hooks Fuckin’ up in a Tazmission, making sure to pay special attention to the neck area. Jane Doe rolls into the ring, and she prepares herself by hitting the ropes. Mendoza has hers back to The Calamity of the Rafters as Jane Doe runs at her delivering a big boot to the back of Mendoza's head causing her to release the submission hold. Jane Doe cannot stand Wendy or Whisper, but they aren’t a fan of her either. Jane Doe picks up the injured Wendy by the neck and punches her face slowly and deliberately as it forces her back into the corner. Jane Doe grabs Wendy in a wristlock and climbs to the top rope and rope walks there with Wendy's wrist in her grasp. Wendy pulls on the arm and Jane Doe is crotched on the top rope. Wendy bounces off the top rope multiple times, causing Jane Doe more pain, hey, it’s chaffing, before she falls towards the inside of the ring. Wendy with a clothesline sends Jane Doe back outside of the ring to the ringside area. Wendy looks down at Jane Doe before turning her attention to the charging Whisper Mendoza. Wendy ducks her head just in time to back body drop Mendoza over the top rope. Wait! Mendoza skins the cat, old school style, and slides in under the bottom rope behind the unrealizing Wendy. Mendoza spins Fuckin’ around delivering a right hand, Wendy ducks under the blow hooking Mendoza in a modified chicken wing submission. Wendy pulls the wildly kicking and struggling Mendoza to the center of the ring as Jane Doe makes it to her feet on the outside of the ring. Jane Doe climbs up to the apron and Wendy sees her just in time and drops Mendoza in the center of the ring. Wendy charges at her blood enemy, but Jane Doe throws a well-aimed right hand that catches Wendy right in the throat. referee warns Jane Doe about that sort of blow, but Jane Doe glares at Rich with the depths of hell in her eyes. Jane Doe steps over the top rope as Wendy is still struggling to breath in the bent-over position. Jane Doe grabs Wendy by the throat, pulling her to a vertical position before lifting her into the air. Jane Doe slams her down to the mat with a delayed chokeslam before hooking the leg and making a pin. referee is there in position.~

1!

2!!

Kickout!!!!

~Whisper Mendoza with a stomp on the back of Jane Doe's head.~

Hood: Fucking Whisper!

Smith: You're getting the names mixed up.

Hood: Not really. Huge difference between fucking and fuckin

~Jane Doe rolls off of Fuckin’ and Stares with fire in her eyes at Whisper Mendoza; for her part, Mendoza is not backing down as her leaps at Jane Doe. The Calamity of the Rafters grabs Mendoza around the throat and slams her down as well with a chokeslam. Jane Doe covers Fuckin’ once again.~

1!

2!!

Kickout!

~Fuckin’ kicks out before the count of three. It was referee indicates that it was less than an inch away from a three, but Jane Doe pays no attention as her pulls Fuckin’ up to her feet. Fuckin’ with a boot to the midsection of Jane Doe and a high knee lift to the Soul Taker. Jane Doe is stunned as Fuckin’ kicks her in the top of her head. Jane Doe stumbles backwards but Fuckin’ charges with a single leg takedown but catches her just in time to put a knee under hers ribs and turn Jane Doe so that her falls on Fuckin’'s knee. As Jane Doe makes contact with Fuckin’'s knee, her gives out a loud grunt of pain and rolls onto hers front clutching at her ribs trying to rub away the pain. Fuckin’ grins sickly as her hoists Jane Doe up into an abdominal stretch, making sure to stretch the side of Jane Doe's injured ribs. Fuckin’ delivers a clubbing forearm blow to the stretched ribs and Jane Doe grunts from the pain. Fuckin’ lifts her free arm up into the air, dropping a elbow into the ribs as well and Jane Doe is in a bad way in this triple threat for the OCW Trans-Atlantic Title.~

Smith: It's not looking good for Jane Doe

Hood: Man, all that hype and she fuckin loses? LOL that'd be such Classic OCW

~Whisper Mendoza bounces off the ropes with a dropkick connecting with the back of Fuckin’'s head taking her down on top of Jane Doe. Whisper works quickly as she whips Wendy into the ropes taking her back down with a scissor kick. Whisper is moving quickly before Jane Doe has a chance to regain her footing. Whisper with a forearm to Fuckin’ sending her towards the ropes, Fuckin’ counters with an arm drag takedown into a chicken wing submission on the mat, but Whisper is in the ropes and referee is there to break the hold. Fuckin’ refuses to break the submission so referee is forced to begin the count. Her gets to four and a half before Fuckin’ breaks the submission hold, having caused a lot of damage to Whisper's shoulder and elbow. Fuckin’ pulls Whisper up to her feet peppering her with some stiff forearm shots to the face and side of hers head; her looks at Jane Doe and sees hers foe Starting to get up to hers hands and knees. Fuckin’ runs over to Jane Doe kicking her on the side where hers injured ribs are before diving at the escaping Whisper Mendoza with a shoulder tackle. Fuckin’ is moving quickly, knowing that if Jane Doe regains her feet once more, she’ll have to contend with two people. Fuckin’ hooks in a dragon sleeper and turns it quickly into a backstabber. Fuckin’ goes for a pin and referee is there with the count.~

1!

~Jane Doe sits up her head turning to see the cover by Wendy.~

2!!

~Jane Doe's arm reaches out grabbing the foot of Fuckin’ Wendy and yanks her off of Whisper Mendoza before the three can be counted; Fuckin’ looks surprised. Whisper lays there motionless as Jane Doe stands up with Fuckin’'s ankle in her hands. Fuckin’ with a standing enziguri connects with nothing as Jane Doe ducks under the kick and is slightly behind Fuckin’ now. Jane Doe hooks Wendy up for a spinning side slam. Both women lay on the mat and Jane Doe sits back up, turning her head to look down at Fuckin’ Wendy with distaste. Jane Doe rolls over to hers knees then up to a vertical base before bouncing off the ropes landing on Fuckin’'s throat with the guillotine leg drop; she points to the top turnbuckle, gets herself up and hits Wendy with a flying elbow drop! She hooks the leg, as Whisper barely stirs.~

1!

2!!

3!!!!!!!

Belvedere: Here is your winner...and NEW TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPION...JANE DOE!!!!!

Smith: Jane Doe did it! I don’t know why I’m surprised.

Hood: You really think Jane Doe would get built up like this only to LOSE?

Smith: I mean, maybe?

Hood: That’d be some WEAK ASS BOOKING

Smith: I’m still curious to find out who’s under that mask, though. Any guesses?

Hood: Don’t give a shit...so long as it isn’t Alice fuckin Knight.

~Jane Doe is celebrating. Whisper and Fuckin Wendy are both down. Marcus Welsh steps through the ropes, TA title around his waist. He slowly removes it, holding it in his arms. The crowd quiets. Jane turns, facing the OCW GM~

Marcus Welsh: Great win, Jane. Truly. You did everything that was asked of you.

~Doe nods. Her shoulders heave with exhaustion and, perhaps, a bit of anxiety. Marcus reaches out, touching her arm~

Marcus Welsh: Relax, Jane. It’s all downhill from here. The finish line is in sight.

Smith: What’s he talking about, Hood? She’s already won.

Hood: What are you asking me for? I don’t know what goes through this guy’s mind. You think he let me in on the fact he was going to purge the fucking roster a month ago?

Smith: True.

~Welsh tosses the TA Title over his shoulder~

Marcus Welsh: Fans. This woman right here. Jane Doe. You all have no idea what she’s been through to get here. No idea the sacrifices she’s made...and will continue to make to walk this path with us. Underneath that mask is the face of a woman who cares about OCW more than multi-year vets. More than sons of OCW legends. Behind that mask resides the face of a person who truly bleeds OCW red.

~We can feel the anticipation building within the Snowking festival~

Smith: Was she purged?

Hood: I’m beginning to think...maybe

Marcus Welsh: This woman was purged. She was purged like so many others. Sent packing. Told to seek refuge elsewhere. But, what did she do? Did she give up? No. Did she diss and dismiss this great promotion? No. Did she turn her back on OCW due to peer pressure? Absolutely not. This woman stood firm in her belief that OCW is, was, and will always be the place for her. And, for that, she’s about to be rewarded.

~The crowd buzzes. Who is she? Which purged roster member is standing in front of Marcus Welsh?~

Smith: Who could it be, Hood?

Hood: I don’t know who it is...but I’m pretty fucking sure it won’t be Kat Jones.

Marcus Welsh: Jane. Your mask.

~Welsh extends his hand, asking for the mask. Jane stands. Her slightly shaky hands reach for the mask covering her face. The fans go silent~

Smith: Who is it?

~She slowly removes the mask to reveal...~

Smith: It’s Victoria Strader-Knox!

Hood: Holy shit!

~The fans pop HUGE. It’s hard to describe Strader’s facial expression. It’s mixed. She’s fighting off emotion, anxiety, and confusion. She slowly hands the mask over to Welsh...he looks down at it before flinging it out of the ring and into the snow. He steps up, getting into Strader’s personal space. Strader’s mouth, her cheeks, they all start to quiver~

Marcus Welsh: You’ve tasted the outside world. You’ve felt it’s cruelty. You know what lies beyond these safe, comforting, creative walls of OCW, don’t you, Vee?

~Strader’s eyes shut. She begins to grow emotional~

Marcus Welsh: Aww, Vee. You’ve been hurt, haven’t you? You’ve been betrayed, haven’t you? You’ve been stabbed in the back, haven’t you?

~Strader nods. A single tear rolling down her cheek. Welsh grips her by the shoulder~

Marcus Welsh: Well, I’m here to tell you...no more. No longer. So long as you’re here in OCW, we will protect you. You aren’t just with us. You are one of us.

Smith: It’s clear to me, Hood, that Victoria has had her heart broken.

Hood: World is full of idiots, Smith. Trust me, I’ve been out there.

Marcus Welsh: But first. On your knees.

~The crowd kinda gasps. They don’t really know where this is going. Strader drops to one knee...then the second. She looks up at Welsh. He reaches down, grabbing the back of her head~

Smith: Oh no, don’t tell me.

Hood: Greg’s not gonna like this.

~Welsh bows his head, closing his eyes. Victoria mimics his actions~

Marcus Welsh: Before us kneels our sister, Victoria Strader-Knox. A bright-eyed optimist. A loyal, full hearted talent. She’s been hurt. She’s been persecuted. She’s been the victim of slander. Yet, she’s persevered. I now, ask of you, I pray of you to continue to instill within this woman the strength to overcome. The resolve to withstand the trials and tribulations that await. She’s made a tough decision. She’s made an unpopular decision. She’s made a decision that the outside world will attempt to make her pay for making. All proof she’s made the correct one.

~Welsh slightly pats her head~

Marcus Welsh: Now, repeat after me. WE are OCW. The promotion that will guide you through the muck and perversion of the outside world. You will NOT place any other promotion equal to or above us.

~Strader repeats these words. Along with the fans~

Marcus Welsh: Good.

~Welsh steps away. Victoria’s head remains bowed, her eyes staring at the mat~

Marcus Welsh: Vee...you entered into this arena as Jane Doe. You were exposed as Victoria Strader. A broken, maligned, injured soul.

~Strader’s muscles tense. Her body starts to shake~

Marcus Welsh: You kneel before me that same broken woman. I am here to announce those reservations, those anxieties, those insecurities have been washed away. For you are now...OCW Proud. OCW STRONG.

~The fans in the arena chant “OCW PROUD! OCW STRONG!” The entire venue begins to come to life with an otherworldly vibe. Fuckin Wendy exits the ring. Whisper Mendoza, standing in the corner, looks around~

Marcus Welsh: And now…

~Welsh extends his arms~

Marcus Welsh: Rise...Veronica.

~Marcus slowly raises his arms. As he does, Veronica Strader rises to her feet. The fans go wild. Her fists are clenched. She tilts her head up, staring at Welsh. Marcus throws his head in the direction of Whisper~

Marcus Welsh: Earn it.

~Veronica turns to face Whisper. Whisper Mendoza looks over at Mr. Welsh as he exits the ring, and he nods to Belvedere to get on with it. He shrugs as he does his job.~

Belvedere: Alright so the following match is scheduled for one fall and is for the OCW Trans-Atlantic championship, even if it isn’t in my notes. That corner you have Whisper Mendoza, and in this corner we have Victoria Strader-Knox.

Veronica(Yelling): It’s Veronica jackass! Get rid of that Knox while you are at it! Were you not listening?

~Belvedere shrugs and we hear “CLASSIC OCW, BABY!” out from the Canadian OCW faithful audience (best key demo-18 to 69) the bell rings as Veronica rotating her neck to cracking it on both sides. Whisper barely gets her hands as she is floored with a short-arm clothesline she was not ready. Veronica doesn’t let off the pedal as she slams one, two, three, four, and FIVE heels on the side of Whisper’s head.

Smith: Whisper needs to get out of there.

Hood: What the fuck happened to Vic...err...Veronica. She looks possessed!

~Veronica grabs Mendoza by her hair lifting her up and drags her to the corner and throws her to the corner. Whisper falls to her ass as the back of her head bounces off the second turnbuckle. Veronica remove the top turnbuckle and thrust kicks Mendoza in the chin the heel of her right boot the camera catching spit and blood coming out of her quiet mouth. Veronica looks out at the crowd letting out a blood curdling roar yanking Mendoza to her feet and begins to slam her face into the exposed turnbuckle and the bloodthirsty Canadian fans count them out!

1!

2!

3!

4!

Smith: Somebody get Whisper out of there!

Hood: Hate to see a pretty face go to waste.

5!

6!

7!

8!

9!

10!!!!

~Veronica pulls the limp bodied Whisper back by her hair and stares down in the air. A smile crosses her face. Dragging Whisper to the middle of the ring and she falls to her knees. Veronica places Whisper’s head between her legs, hooks her arm back, leaping up in a backwards motion she slams down on poor Whisper’s pretty face with the force of her weight with a vicious PEDIGREE! She flips Mendoza over and hooks the leg with authority letting out another blood curdling roar. The referee drops down with a championship count!~

1!

2!!

3!!!

DING DING DING

Belvedere: And your winner by pinfall… and still your OCW Trans-Atlantic Champion… VERONICA STRADER!!!!

Smith: Ugh. I'm queasy.

Hood: Welsh said 'Earn it' and, well, I think she gave him exactly what he wanted.

~Just A Girl by No Doubt starts to play as Marcus enters the ring once again, belt unclasped in his hands. Whisper is trying to stir but she has nothing left. Veronica raises her arms so he can clasp the belt around her waist. Veronica bends her knee to Marcus, and stands back up as Belvedere hands a microphone to her and begins to address the crowd.~

Veronica Strader: What? Are you surprised? Surprised that the one person who was truly proud to be OCW, is in fact still OCW? Who made it in without being a original roster member or Hall of Famer? It’s because I have always belonged in OCW. I have always been OCW Proud. I have always been OCW Strong.

~ The OCW fans give the Canadian OCW star and Trans-Atlantic champion a heavy pop. ~

Veronica Strader: Even when the moment Victoria pestered her way in under GM Who’re’s watch, she was proud and strong. We were Proud and Strong.

~ Marcus smiles as the Canadian fans cheer on his chosen one. ~

Veronica Strader: Luckily Victoria wasn’t as useless as the rest of the Purged seeing how the Great and Wonderful Marcus Welsh thought she was worth it, or rather, what was inside her was worth it and you all should know by now: Marcus Welsh IS great AND wonderful. II was finally able to emerge from the shell I was kept in for a bloody decade. Masters of Macabre came to pass. Poor Victoria was feeling insecure and the cherry on top of a blow hard tramp getting ready to kick her to the curb, she went and got herself kidnapped. To this day she has no idea what happened to her because I was FINALLY awake and I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her again. It took a little bit to gain full control. Yeah,I was the one that got on her Highnesses nerves. Victoria yelled at me too but she even sat back and went “oh shit, Veronica was right.” I am always right. Not 87.2% of the time. Chet Dakota told me to pump those numbers up and I did.

~ The camera pans out to a fan holding a “Chet Dakota 4 Prime Minister” sign up proudly. ~

Veronica Strader: I am Veronica by the way, your Trans Fucking Atlantic Champion in OCW, but you can call me “Vee”. But don’t forget the OCW Trans-Atlantic Championship part either.

~ The Strader sneer creeps across her face as she holds the Trans-Atlantic strap high in the air.~

Veronica Strader: I did what Victoria needed me to do. She’s always had it in her, but the thing is… It was always me pushing it. It’s always been me, and all of this is for her. To protect from everyone else that would hurt her. Angels or Demons, I don’t care. You see, I also know that as great as Victoria is, and how wonderful I am….

~ Veronica turns and motions to Marcus Welsh ~

Veronica Strader: The true hero is Marcus Welsh. He saw it in her, in me, that we… that I am OCW Proud, OCW Strong. To look at everyone he showed the door that fateful Monday and to be able to recognize who actually loved being a part of this great and fantastic institution? That takes a skill only the greatest people in this world have. No surprise it was only me that did besides its original members, of course. Arrogance is fine when there is a still line for respect.

~ Veronica fastens the white leather championship around her waist and looks down at the front plate with a huge smile on her face. ~

Veronica Strader: But the one thing you are going to have to get used to… Victoria is in the shell now. I am going to live and breathe. I am going to fulfill her deepest desires that she was afraid to give into because she just wanted to be liked by all of… you.

~ She stares into the camera with the word ‘you’.~

Veronica Strader: Yeah, all of you caused this. In one way I should thank you but for the lot of you… I owe Victoria your blood, and believe me when I say I will drain your bodies till the last drop. She may have pretended she doesn’t want that but I came from those dark, twisted thoughts. Victoria Strader-Knox is no more. It’s Veronica Strader from here on out and I am OCW Proud. I am OCW Strong. OCW Together…

Crowd: OCW FOREVER!

Smith: Veronica Strader has returned to OCW. Unpurged. And, she looks to make her mark as the NEW TransAtlantic Champion.

Hood: Welsh let her back in. Something he did NOT do for anyone else. He likes her. He thinks she's got what it takes. We'll see if that's true...so far, so good.

Smith: Folks, it's been a wild night already and it feels like we're just getting started. The Craze Title is up for grabs...NEXT!

~We cut away to a commercial~

~We return to Piledriver~

Cheasy M: And we’re back! Two matches left to preview so let’s get to it!

Cheasy M: That’s right, folks. The Danger Boiz are BACK and they are looking to finally, after all these years, capture the OCW Tag Titles. The Danger Boiz are tag team legends...tag team icons...and the one accolade that continues to plague them...the one that’s evaded them is...the OCW Tag Titles. Well, they get their chance this Sunday at Access Denied.

~Cheasy takes a beat~

Cheasy M: It’s funny how things work in this business, right? The Danger Boiz have accomplished far more in their careers than the Dravers have. And that’s not a shot at Nathan and Jonathan...that’s merely a testament to how accomplished Dan and Chris are. Yet, The Dravers are two time OCW Tag Team Champions. The belts that have eluded Dan and Chris have found their way to Nathan and Jonathan TWICE. The Dravers look to make it a third time this Sunday at Access Denied.

~The camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: Now, the twist...something that potentially turns this thing in the favor of The Danger Boiz. This match will be a Danger Zone Match! What’s a Danger Zone Match? Simple. It’s a steel cage. Weapons attached to the side of the cage. Titles hanging above. The winning team must capture both belts and escape with them...whoever does that, walks out OCW Tag Champions. Now, why might this help one team over the other? The Danger Boiz are 2-0 in Danger Zone matches. The Dravers? This will be their first time competing under these rules. It should make for one interesting clash.

Cheasy M: Which brings us to the main event of Access Denied and what a main event it is! OCW’s Wrestler of the Year for 2021, Outcast...a two time OCW Champion and a wrestler who some say is a lock for the Hall of Fame, will defend his OCW Title against not just any Hall of Famer...but arguably the most famous Hall of Famer in company history…

~Camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts`

Cheasy M: Mario Maurako. Nobody has accomplished more in OCW than Mario Maurako. Which makes the fact he’s never held the OCW Title all that more frustrating. Fans, for years, have anxiously awaited the moment when Mario Maurako would hold the OCW Title over his head. A moment that could come this Sunday against Outcast. Did you know...this is the first one on one match Mario has had for the OCW Title in over twenty years. The fans, historians, and Lurrr will all be on Mario’s side come Sunday.

~Camera cuts. Cheasy adjusts~

Cheasy M: These two will do battle inside a Barbed Wire Steel Cage. A match stipulation fitting for the brutality that will take place inside. Outcast is simply unkillable. And Mario, well, he’s willing to die to win that OCW Title. This one won’t be for the faint of heart, folks!

~Massive camera cut. Cheasy spins around~

Cheasy M: Access Denied is 3 days away! ONLY FOUR DAYS! Upgrade your streaming package and pay the sixty bucks to get this show. You do not wanna miss it!

Cheasy M: Alice Knight will be there! I’m told signing announcements will take place! The trajectory for 2022 will take off on Sunday...so be there because this is still the best thing going in this entire industry. Accept no imitation.

Cheasy M: And now, as we end tonight’s show...we’ll take you to the first ever public airing of the main event of Death March. An Icicle Death Match for the OCW Title between Outcast and Mike Zybala. Enjoy the match everybody and we’ll see you all in Detroit on Sunday!

Smith: Well, Hood...it’s all...it’s all led to this. There can only be one.

Hood: We signed the Highlander?

Smith: No. One OCW Champion.

Hood: Oh dear geebus...I’ve been dreading this one all night...all month. Basically since THE GREAT PURGE.

Smith: Why? It’s the most anticipated match OCW has had in quite some time.

Hood: Because Zybala is one heart attack, one stroke, one major health issue from becoming OCW Champion.

Smith: Or, you know, one pinfall or submission.

Hood: LOL!

~The ring is cleared and ready to go. The heaters surrounding it have been turned down. A giant ceiling of icicles has been put in place above the ring...they hang, ominously above. We zoom in on one, lone, jagged icicle that looks to be different...like its some kind of frozen condiment~

Hood: Oh for fuck’s sake.

Smith: Zybala’s Blu Cheese icicle made it!

Hood: THE FIX IS IN

Smith: There is no fix in favor of Zybala, that I can promise you.

~Belvedere is NOT standing in the ring for this. He won’t risk getting taken out by an early icicle drop. He’s standing near the entrance, mic in hand~

Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...it is now time for our MAIN EVENT OF THE EVENING!

~The fans go wild~

Belvedere: The following contest is an ICICLE DEATH MATCH! A ceiling of icicles hangs ominously above the ring. The heat has been turned down...to prevent the icicles from melting too early...however, the heat will, eventually, erode enough of their base so that they will descend throughout the contest. These icicles can be used as weapons. Outside of that, this match will go on as usual...the first wrestler to earn a pinfall or submission will leave Death March as the OCW Champion!

~The fans go VERY wild~

Belvedere: And now, introducing first…

~The lights dim and the music hits. Zybala comes out from behind the curtain, dressed in a black and white Santa Claus costume. He's holding a sack in one hand and a OCW World Title replica in the other. He holds the title high before putting it in the sack before heading down the ramp.~

Smith: Well I think the symbolism is clear on this one.

Hood: The fuck are you talking about? It's just Zybala dressed like an old timey photo of Santa.

Smith: Wrong. He clearly is Anti Claus. Instead of giving presents, he's taking things away from people. It's obvious.

Hood:..... I call bullshit. You talked with Zybala before the show, didn't you?

Smith:... No....

Smith: Pfft! I knew it. You ain't smart and philosophical.

~Zybala gets to the ring and takes off the Santa costume, thankfully dressed in his regular gear underneath so Will doesn't have to reedit the match. Luckily, this Will guy hadn’t written ANYTHING before adding this bit of info. So, he decides to have Zybala wearing a Josh Allen jersey sweatshirt underneath and Buffalo Bills sweatpants on. If he’s gonna break one curse, he might as well break another. Zybala throws a few SUPERKICKs to loosen up as he waits for Outcast~

Belvedere: Standing 5’6 and weighing in at 175lbs...from Buffalo, New York...representing...and I quote “The greatest team in all the land”...he is Mike Zybala!!

~Massive ovation for Zybala. His SUPERKICKS look ON POINT~

Smith: Zybala sporting his team’s colors.

Hood: How much do you think he got paid to wear that?

Smith: I’m sure he’s doing it out of the kindness of his heart.

Hood: Yea, right.

Smith: But he is the biggest Bills fan in pro wrestling.

Hood: True. There was that other guy who was a Bills fan but that dude got PURGED

Smith: Yes, Hood. Yes he did.

Belvedere: And, his opponent…

~Binge & Purge by Clutch hits. The fans turn and watch as the OCW Champion, Outcast marches from behind the curtain, OCW title draped over his shoulder. He’s sporting a pair of gloves and a leather jacket over his upper body. The fans aren’t cheering. They aren’t booing...but it’s clear there is respect given by those in attendance. Outcast wastes no time walking down the aisle surrounded by snow, toward the ring. Zybala hops around, not paying any attention to the icicles hanging above. Outcast reaches the steps and pauses, looking overhead~

Belvedere: From Chicago, Illinois...standing 6’1 and weighing in at 228lbs...he is the OCW Champion...he is...Outcast!!!

~Zybala reaches into his sack and retrieves the knock-off OCW Title. He holds it high. Outcast chews on his lip, watching Zybala with contempt. He tosses the OCW Title onto the metal surface surrounding the ring, lifting it above the snowy surface. He heads up the steps and enters into the ring~

Smith: Outcast doesn’t appear to appreciate Zybala’s antics.

Hood: Nobody appreciates Zybala’s antics.

Smith: I think they’re kinda fun.

Hood: Kinda? See? Even YOU, the lover of all things shitty, are having a tough time defending them.

~Outcast marches straight for Zybala...he rips the replica belt away. Zybala wastes no time, he kicks Outcast in the groin. The fans go wild. Scruff calls for the bell. It rings and we’re underway~

Smith: Zybala striking first!

Hood: Seriously? Talk about a cheap shot!

Smith: He said he’d do whatever it takes, Hood. He’s got to break the curse.

~Zybala punches Outcast in the head. The OCW Champion, reeling from the pain that comes with a kick to the balls, is unable to cover up. He staggers to the side. Zybala retrieves his replica belt. He measures Outcast up. The OCW Champion finally stands upright...Zybala runs forward and he DRILLS Outcast in the face with the replica belt. Outcast, however, falls into the ropes, but he doesn’t go down...instead, he looks at Zybala...more pissed off than anything~

Smith: Okay, so that didn’t have the desired effect.

Hood: Man, talk about a cheap replica. Where did Zybala get that thing? Emilio’s backyard?

Smith: I couldn’t tell you.

~Zybala looks at the title...the plate is dented and shattered. He looks at Outcast’s scar tissued face, it’s SLIGHTLY irritated...but not blood or bruising or any signs of damage. Outcast mouths, “Idiot.” He reaches forward with his gloved hands, grabbing at Zybala’s face. He places his thumbs into Zybala’s eye sockets. Zybala yells out...he kicks Outcast in the knee. The old man’s joint nearly gives, but he remains standing...he continues trying to rip Zybala’s eyes out. Mike yells...it’s not looking great...he leans into Outcast...he then sits out and rattles the OCW Champion with a jawbreaker!!! Outcast stumbles back into a corner, stunned. Mike opens his eyes, blinking rapidly...thankfully, they appear fine. He takes his replica belt and flings it out of the ring...it lands in the snow~

Smith: Outcast attempted to blind Zybala! That’s criminal!

Hood: Nah, man, he knows Zybala is a hypocrite and was merely trying to point out the plank in his eye. You know, that proverb or whatever from the Bible.

Smith: That’s NOT what he was doing, Hood.

Hood: He’s looking to improve Zybala’s life. Outcast is a good man.

Smith: HE LITERALLY BURNED DOWN A BAR FILLED WITH PATRONS

~Outcast marches for Zybala...but Mike, seated on his ass, leans back on his hands and kicks his legs out, destabilizing the OCW Champion. Outcast stumbles forward...Mike places his feet into Outcast’s midsection and he tosses him over with a monkey flip!!! Outcast lands hard!! Mike kips up and throws some SUPERKICKS much to the crowd’s delight!! They chant for the ALMOST CANADIAN. “ZYBALA! ZYBALA!”~

Smith: They are embracing Mike as one of their own.

Hood: You spend a few days with Sherpas and suddenly you’re a Canadian. Remind me to never climb Mount Everest.

Smith: You don’t like Sherpas?

Hood: Sherpas are fine. But I don’t want to EVER be considered an honorary Canadian.

Smith: Rude

~Zybala grabs Outcast by the hair and pulls him up...but Outcast delivers a thrust shot into Zybala’s throat!! Mike is staggered. Outcast smacks Zybala in the face with a right cross!! The fan favorite stumbles into a corner, leaning over the top buckle, shaking his head. Outcast rakes his gloved hands down Zybala’s back...the leather burning his skin. Mike arches his back and stumbles toward the center of the ring. Outcast measures him up, charges forward and takes him down with a clubbing forearm to the back of the head. Mike hits the mat front first. Outcast stares down at Mike...something hits the back of his neck. He rubs it and finds some cold water...he looks up and sees the icicles above beginning to leak a bit~

Smith: It’s still cold down there, don’t get me wrong. But the heaters, albeit turned down a bit, have the temperature at ringside hovering a little over 32….maybe close to 40 degrees.

Hood: Hence

Smith: Hence, it’s only a matter of time before all those icicles melt to the point of breaking off and plummeting to the ring.

Hood: Ah, smart move wearing the leather jacket. Outcast always thinking ahead.

Smith: Yes. But Mike’s got layers on, too.

Hood: An ugly ass Buffalo Bills sweater. The only thing that fabric will prevent is Zybala from getting laid.

~Even wearing the leather jacket for protection, Outcast doesn’t want to put the cloak to use. So, he grabs Zybala and slings him into the ropes, head first. Mike flies through the ropes and lands on the apron. Outcast coils and releases...sprinting forward. Mike stands...Outcast dives through the ropes and SPEARS Zybala off the apron!! The two men fall and land HARD on the metal surface surrounding the ring. The fans cheer. Outcast sits up, holding his shoulder...he backslides away from Mike and takes a seat on the bottom step. He hears a THUD. He turns and sees an icicle impaled into the ring canvas~

Smith: And one has fallen!

Hood: Right where Outcast was standing. Sheesh.

Smith: Despite trying to kill himself a myriad of ways...Outcast has tremendous survival instincts.

Hood: A constant struggle with cognitive dissonance.

~Outcast stands, rotating his shoulder from the spear. He pulls Mike up and quickly knees him in the gut, doubling Mike over. He hooks Mike by the head and flips him over onto the metal surface with a Snap Suplex! Mike hits hard, arching his back in pain. Outcast sits up, rubbing his shoulder~

Smith: Outcast is not in any hurry to return to that ring.

Hood: Would you? I mean, let’s be honest here. Outcast is better than Zybala. Straight up. In any type of normal fight or match, he wins, 10 out of 10 times. But...with fucking icicles hanging above the ring...if one falls and hits him...Zybala walks out champion.

Smith: I’ll give you the icicle part. But I will not concede that Outcast is as superior to Zybala as you claim.

Hood: You probably like that new Home Alone movie, don’t you?

Smith: No comment.

~Outcast stands. He pulls Mike back up and delivers a vicious forearm uppercut!! Zybala staggers back, leaning against a ring post. Outcast charges forward...but Zybala dives down, out of the way. Outcast pulls up just short of running into the post. He breathes a shit of relief...however, that relief is short lives as Zybala, back on his feet, leaps up and dropkicks Outcast in the back, sending his shoulder crashing into the post!!! Outcast falls to the ground, holding his left shoulder in pain~

Smith: There we go! Classic Zybala!

Hood: If by Classic Zybala you mean avoiding confrontation and attacking someone from behind, sure. Classic Zybala.

Smith: I love how you twist my words.

Hood: Is that not LITERALLY what just happened?

~Mike pops back to his feet...he looks in the ring and sees the fallen icicle. His eyes seem to say, “Ooohh! An Icicle!” He reaches in and grabs it, yanking it out of the mat. He eyes it...he nods, “Yep, this was definitely made by Amanda.” Was it Amanda? I think it was. Anyway, it was made by that Sherpa woman he got to know. He holds it like a dagger, pointy end facing Outcast, who is seated against the steps, grimacing. Zybala goes after him with the icicle...Outcast looks up and extends his hands, grabbing Mike’s, preventing the icicle from stabbing him in the eye~

Smith: Zybala believe in an eye for an eye! Outcast tried to rip his out...so he’s going to stab Outcast’s!

Hood: I’m not sure Zybala’s memory stretches that far back.

~The struggle is real...Zybala trying to drive the icicle into Outcast’s face...Outcast trying to push Zybala away. So, Outcast leans forward and he bites Mike on the hand! Mike yelps and pulls back. Outcast stands, pointing out his leather gloves. Mike hurls the icicle at him like its a tiny javelin, Outcast turns his back...the icicle hits him in the back and breaks apart. He winces...that hurt a lot more than he expected. He turns back around and Mike throws a SUPERKICK~

Smith: SUPERKICK!!

Hood: Fuck!

~Outcast catches Zybala’s leg! He throws it back down, on the ground. He lunges forward, hooking Mike in a Muy Thai clinch!!! Mike tries to break free, but he can’t. Outcast lifts knee after knee, attempting to directly connect...a flush knee to the face could knock Mike out. Zybala struggles mightily to prevent this from happening...he winds up with his back to the ring. He feels his spine hit the apron...he pushes back on Outcast...Mike then lifts his leg onto the apron...he brings his other up...he’s nearly parallel to the ground with Outcast holding onto the clinch. Mike bends his knees and kicks off, shoving Outcast back!! The push sends Outcast flying backward off the metal platform and into the snow! Mike falls hard, unable to break his fall...he hits the metal and rolls around, holding his chest and stomach in pain. The fans are cheering~

Smith: Great leverage play by Zybala. Maybe Outcast will get cold like Dylan Thomas.

Hood: Yea, right. Outcast fell into a river and then slept on the bank...wet and cold. Laying in that fluffy snow is pretty much like a night at a Hilton for him.

Smith: I prefer extended stay a-

Hood: That place blows!!!

~Outcast does appear content to lay in the snow for a moment, holding his injured shoulder...wincing due to the impact his back suffered. Mike sighs...he doesn’t want to step into the snow and get his clothing all wet and soggy...so he reaches under the ring and grabs...A LADDER. The fans cheer because, that’s what they do when a ladder appears. Mike slides it into the ring. He sets it up and climbs...he looks up at the icicles staring at them, licking his lips. This dude is ALL IN with the gimmick. As he does, one drops and nearly impales him in the fucking face. He pauses and looks down...he has a good laugh~

Smith: Wow, that was close.

Hood: Not close enough, I’m afraid.

Smith: He could have been killed!

Hood: He’s climbing TOWARD the deadly icicles...staring up at them. He gets what he deserves.

~Mike reaches the top of the ladder and he looks for his Blu Cheese icicle. He finds it! But, it’s too far away. He snaps his fingers, frustrated. He hops off the ladder and sees Outcast laying in the snow. He grabs the icicle that fell and yanks it out of the mat...he takes a step back before slinging it like Josh Allen slings a football. It soars through the air...picture perfect. We follow the icicle as it soars...and begins to descend...it descends and dives sharply, landing directly between Outcast’s legs...an inch from his crotch. He looks down, terrified. He then looks up at Zybala...his terror turning into anger~

Smith: Zybala nearly neutered Outcast!

Hood: Okay, this is getting serious.

~Outcast fights out of the snow and back onto the metal surface. He pauses before getting into the ring. Zybala welcomes him in. Outcast looks up at the icicles. One falls, impaling the canvas. He takes a step back. Zybala mocks him and walks up, sitting on the middle rope, offering to help him into the ring. Outcast gives him a gloved middle finger. Zybala frowns...he stands and finds the middle of the ring, with the ladder behind him. He extends his arms, “See? It’s safe. Come in!” As he says that three icicles fall all around him...narrowly missing Mike~

Smith: These things are beginning to fall fairly frequently.

Hood: Zybala is psychotic.

Smith: He’s certainly not afraid. Fearless in the face of an icy death.

~Outcast remains hesitant. So, Mike grabs the fallen icicles and he starts throwing them at Outcast. Outcast does his best to dodge them. Zybala has the HIGH GROUND so it’s pretty tough...looking up at the many MANY icicles remaining, he realizes he’s in a damned situation outside the ring. So, against his survival instincts, he slides into the ring. The fans go wild! Zybala instantly begins stomping on him, before he can get to his feet. Outcast flattens out. Mike grabs the last icicle impaled in the mat and turns it sideways...he drops down and crushes it into the back of Outcast’s head!!! Outcast goes limp. The fans gasp...that looked pretty gnarly. Mike rolls Outcast over and he goes for the pin. Scruff makes the count~

1!

2!

SHOULDER UP

Smith: Outcast got his shoulder up!

Hood: The left one, too.

Smith: Yea, I can tell by his reaction.

~Outcast yells, “FUCK!” The left, injured shoulder may have saved his match...but, in doing so, it’s caused him much pain. Zybala pops back to his feet, undaunted...or with the attention span of a chihuahua. He grabs the ladder and hustles, placing it under the BLU CHEESE icicle. An icicle falls, he casually dodges it. He’s getting pretty good at that. He begins to scale the ladder. A canadian fan yells out, “GET THAT BLU CHEESE ICICLE! GET IT!” Outcast’s eyes flare...he sits up and looks over and immediately spots the BLU DEMON HANGING ABOVE~

Smith: Somebody shut that fan up!

Hood: Why? He’s doing good work. He’s warning our champion.

Smith: He’s ruining Mike’s element of surprise.

Hood: And why does Mike get an element of surprise and not Outcast?

~Outcast rises and he goes for the ladder. Mike reaches up, his hands touch the blu cheese icicle...he pulls back, sharply. The jagged end gave him a little prick. He sucks on it and smiles, “Delicious.” His smile vanishes as Outcast grabs the ladder and shoves it to the side. Out of desperation, Mike grabs two icicles for support...but they instantly break off and he falls to the mat, landing HARD. He drops the icicles. Outcast folds the ladder up and he throws it out of the ring...it lands in the snow. He then grabs the two icicles that Mike attempted to hold on to...he positions them...one in each hand...he gets ready to drive them through Mike’s chest~

Smith: Oh no! You don’t think he’d do it, do you?

Hood: The guy has killed random people before. People he didn’t really know. He’s now standing over a man he hates. What do you think?

Smith: SOMEBODY STOP HIM

~Outcast appears ready to do the deed. That is, until an icicle falls from the top and SLAMS into his back!! He falls over, holding his back in pain, dropping the other two. “FUCK!” he yells, wincing...his back arches off the mat. Mike rolls away...the second he does, another icicle falls, landing right where he’d been laying. WHAT LUCK. Mike sits up in a corner and sees a writhing Outcast and three icicles laying near him. He pulls himself up and heads that way~

Smith: Zybala is one with the ice, Hood. He’s one with the ice.

Hood: A hockey player? Well, just make that one more thing to hate about him.

Smith: I don’t know about hockey...but when it comes to those icicles...he knows where to be and where not to be.

Hood: Some bullshit, if you ask me.

~Zybala gathers the three icicles. Outcast pulls himself up, unaware. He turns to locate Mike...that’s when Zybala zings an icicle at him like it’s a Josh Allen sidearm fastball. Outcast turns...it hits him in the back, breaking. He yells and falls into the ropes. He hangs over the middle rope...his face riddled with pain. Mike zings another icicle...it, too, stabs him in the back. Again, Outcast screams a string of obscenities, falling back off the ropes and into the ring...he stomps his feet on the mat, arching his back. Mike charges forward...he leaps up and brings the icicle down..but Outcast rolls under the bottom rope. Zybala stabs the icicle deep into the mat! He tries to pull it out, but it’s stuck. Outcast pulls himself up...he grabs onto the top rope and leaps over with a senton, landing on top of Zybala and flattening him out! The fans pop from the move!! Zybala is down! The third icicle is broken under his weight. Outcast is on the mat, reaching for his back, which has been pulverized by icicles~

Smith: That leather jacket was a life saver.

Hood: Dylan Thomas should take notes. THAT’s how you level up for a match.

~Both men struggle to their feet. Outcast reaches his first...he’s about to go after Zybala when an icicle falls and stabs him in the shoulder!! The left shoulder!! He screams and drops to one knee, holding his shoulder in pain. The leather protecting his skin. Zybala reaches his feet. As he does, an icicle falls toward him, but it lands innocently next to Mike. Outcast sees this and is like, “Seriously?” He rises. Mike charges at him with a SUPERKICK...but Outcast knees him in the gut. Outcast bend Zybala over and hooks him...he lifts him up and he hits BURNOUT (Package Piledriver)!!!! The crowd is stunned!! Mike’s head spikes on the mat...so much so that instead of going down his body shoots up, standing upright on the mat. He’s like a zombie. Outcast gets up, surprised...Mike then throws the fastest, quickest SUPERKICK of his life...right into Outcast’s jaw!! Both men fall to the mat!! Zybala to his side, and Outcast front first. The fans go wild~

Smith: Both men hit each other with their finisher...and now they’re down.

Hood: That was fuckin weird...then again, this is a weird ass match.

Smith: Classic OCW, baby?

Hood: CLASSIC OCW, BABY

~Both men on the ground. The fans on the edge of their seats...waiting to see who might take advantage of this moment. An icicle falls from the ceiling...it hits Outcast right in the back!! He groans in pain. Another icicle falls...it narrowly misses Zybala, landing near his head, sticking into the ring. A third icicle falls...again, it hits Outcast in the back...he groans and says ‘fuck’. A fourth icicle falls..it misses Zybala, narrowly, landing near his legs~

Smith: Outcast is getting pelted by these large, painful icicles.

Hood: Meanwhile NONE of them EVER hit Zybala...is this some kind of Sherpa voodoo magic?

Smith: The luck of the draw, I’m afraid.

Hood: This shit goes BEYOND luck, Smith.

~Outcast moves first...the two icicles that broke off and crashed into him seem to have woke him up. He crawls for the ropes and uses them to stand. He leans back and locates Zybala...on his side, unconscious, in his Buffalo Bills sweater and sweatpants...he almost looks like a giant kid sleeping peacefully. The fans ‘aww’ when they see it on the OCWTron...until Outcast runs forward, leaps into the air and delivers a stomp to the side of Mike’s head. The fans BOOOO!!! Zybala yells and rolls around, holding his head in pain. Outcast grabs the two icicles from the mat, pulling them free and preparing to use them as weapons~

Smith: Well, that was rude.

Hood: It’s a wrestling match, not a Buffalo Slumber Party.

~Zybala finds a corner, he sits down, against the bottom buckle...still unaware of Outcast’s intentions. Outcast heads his way...he’s got an icicle in each gloved hand...an icicle falls from above and it slams into the icicle in his right hand, both shatter. He looks down like “are you serious?” He looks up, pissed. But, he’s got one remaining in his left...so he tosses it from his left to his right and heads for Mike...Zybala, though, grabs the second rope and kicks his leg out, into Outcast’s gut!! Outcast stumbles back, dropping the icicle. Mike crawls forward and grabs it...he pops to his feet and he SMASHES it into the side of Outcast’s head, sending the OCW Champion to one knee~

Smith: Mike Zybala connects! Outcast is reeling!

Hood: These icicles have it out for Zybala.

Smith: You sound like a conspiracy theorist.

Hood: It’s true! Haven’t you been watching??

~Mike rises, standing over Outcast. He stomps the mat with his leg...it’s SUPERKICK time. The fans stomp their feet...the entire nation of Canada begins to stomp. The place is vibrating from all the stomping. Zybala backs into a corner and raises his arms, stomping his foot into the mat~

Smith: Zybala is looking to end this with a SUPERKICK

Hood: Why did we visit this horrid place? No more Canadian ppvs...never...NEVER EVER

~An icicle falls from the ceiling...it descends toward Outcast...but this one misses, shockingly. It lands near him. He looks over at it. He then looks up at Zybala who’s about to deliver a devastating SUPERKICK. Outcast seems torn. What does he do?~

Smith: What decision is there to make, here? He should use the icicle!

Hood: He’s been hit by so many, maybe he’s wary. OR, maybe he’s like FUCK THE ICICLE

Smith: If he doesn’t use it, he’s probably looking at a SUPERKICK to the face and, thus, another OCW Title reign without a successful defense.

~Zybala charges forward for his SUPERKICK. Outcast slowly rises. Zybala throws his signature leg at Outcast for the SUPERKICK...but Outcast reaches forward and he STABS Zybala in the leg with the icicle!!! Zybala yells out and falls to the ground, holding his leg in pain as blood starts to leak into the ring. The fans scream with shock and horror. Outcast stands over him, wiping the gloved hand that held the icicle. He zoom in to find that the icicle used to stab Mike was...THE BLU CHEESE ICICLE. The fans gasp~

Smith: Outcast just stabbed Zybala in his SUPERKICK leg!

Hood: With the Blu Cheese icicle...HAHAHA

Smith: This is horrible...he’s bleeding everywhere!

~Outcast stomps Zybala in the head. He then drops to his knees to cover Mike. The blood is still leaking from his leg, creating a pretty decent puddle atop the canvas. Scruff slides in with the count~

1!

2!

KICK OUT!

~Blood flies through the air as Zybala kicks out. The fans go wild...but then are subdued when they get a better look at Zybala’s injury~

Smith: It’s a gusher, Hood. This could get dangerous.

Hood: Killed via his own stupidity. I LOVE IT

Smith: Okay, killed is a bit strong, don’t ya think?

Hood: His title shots killed, okay? Although, I wouldn’t put it past Zybala to DIE in this match so he could steal Checkers thunder.

~A man emerges from the curtain. He looks KINDA like The Knife Man...only way shittier. His mask sucks and he’s wielding an exacto knife. He rushes to the ring~

Smith: Hood, I’m being told Poblano has sent our interim medic down here to check on Zybala...if he’s too injured to continue, they are going to call the match and award the victory to Oucast.

Hood: Nice. Poblano doing things the way they SHOULD be done.

Smith: I don’t like the smell of this, Hood. Something smells rotten.

Hood: Well, there is a giant blu cheese icicle in the ring.

~The interim medic hits the ring and pushes Outcast back. He looks at Zybala’s wound...he studies it very deeply~

Smith: I’m told this man is named The Blade Buddy.

Hood: Of course he is.

~He waves his Exacto Knife around and pops up...he looks very concerned...he heads to the ropes and begins speaking to Belvedere~

Smith: I’m overhearing...OH NO...he’s calling for the match to be stopped.

Hood: YES! OUTCAST WINS! ~Outcast, leaning in a corner, nods. He doesn’t care. Zybala’s bleeding everywhere...via his blu cheese icicle. He retains the title. This is all good to him...Belvedere nods and sighs, he looks uneasy...like this decision doesn’t sit well with him, either~

Smith: Even Belvedere doesn’t agree.

Hood: Yea, well Belvedere should just talk into the mic and do what he’s told. That’s his job.

~Before Belvedere can speak...out comes MARCUS WELSH! Welsh marches down the ramp, shaking his head~

Smith: It’s our GM!

Hood: Here to gloat...as he crushes another one of Zybala’s dreams.

~Welsh grabs the mic from Belvedere. He sighs and looks into the ring at Zybala, who is holding his leg, looking at Marcus...pleading via his eyes~

Marcus Welsh: I’m out here overruling whatever this knock of Knife Man says. If Zybala is going to lose this match...he’s going to do so being pinned or submitted. THE MATCH CONTINUES

~The fans go wild! Zybala nods, pointing at Welsh. Welsh tosses the mic to Belvedere and remains at ringside. Outcast scoffs...whatever, he’ll win it the hard way. He grabs THE BLADE BUDDY and tosses him out of the ring...we hear a WILHELM SCREAM as his body flies away, off camera and into the snow. Outcast heads toward Zybala, who tries to back away to safety. Outcast stomps on Zybala’s leg, breaking the blu cheese icicle and worsening the wound~

Smith: Welsh finally does the right thing!

Hood: He’s playing the long game, Smith. By allowing this match to continue he’s KILLING Zybala. The man is playing Chess, not Checkers.

Smith: HOOD

Hood: Sorry, too soon. RIP Checkers.

~Outcast pulls Zybala to his feet out of the corner...Mike fights him off. Outcast staggers back. Zybala tries to throw his SUPERKICK...but he’s too slow. Outcast blocks it and BLASTS Mike with a punch. He kicks Zybala in the gut and hooks him for BURNOUT. But, an icicle falls from the sky and hits him in the back. Outcast drops Zybala and spins around, furious...he looks outside the ropes and down at Welsh, who’s nearby. He throws an angry kick at the GM...Welsh catches his leg out of instinct~

Smith: Outcast is lashing out...these icicles...this match…Zybala...has it all broken him?

Hood: I dunno, but he just took a leg swipe at our GM.

Smith: Yep...and our GM now has his leg.

~Welsh holds onto the leg before quickly releasing it and backing away, hands in the air...cognizant over what he’s done. Outcast stumbles back, furious. He says something to Welsh before turning around and eating A SUPERKICK!!!!! Outcast falls to the mat, unconscious. Blood flies everywhere from Zybala’s leg. The fans go wild!!! Mike jumps on top of him...Canada...North America...THE ENTIRE WORLD counts along~

1!

2!

3!!!!!

~The bell rings and humanity goes wild~

Smith: HE DID IT

Hood: FUCKING BULLSHIT!!

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND THE NEW OCW CHAMPION...MIKE ZYBALA!!!!

Smith: Zybala is the OCW Champion!! I can’t believe it!

Hood: Outcast was FUCKED

~Welsh quickly grabs the OCW Title. He hurries into the ring and helps Mike up. Mike takes the title...emotion in his face. He wants to celebrate but Welsh says, “Let’s get out of here. C’mon, hurry...before...”~

Smith: Welsh senses time is of the essence.

Hood: Gee, I wonder why.

~Welsh escorts Zybala to the ropes…Welsh exits and holds the ropes open for the injured OCW Champion~

Voice: Ahem

~Everybody stops. Welsh looks up. Zybala looks up. The fans turn toward the OCWTron to see GREGORY POBLANO~

Poblano: No no no no no.

~Everybody holds their breath~

Poblano: I am not going to let you steal this win for your friend, Welsh. You clearly disobeyed my orders and interfered in the match.

~The fans begin to turn~

Poblano: Ring the bell. Zybala is not the champion. Not yet, anyway. This match must have a clear winner without ANY interference.

~The fans BOOOO. Welsh looks around. Zybala looks to Welsh~

Smith: Can...can Poblano overrule Welsh like that?

Hood: I think he just did, Smith.

~The bell rings. The fans are irate~

Smith: Just get out of there, Mike. Take the belt with you...you’ve earned it. We’ll figure it out later!

Hood: Oh, yea, support theft. Great example, Smith.

~Welsh seems to be echoing Smith’s sentiments. Tensions are running high...leave with the belt...NOW. But, Zybala is a man of integrity. He pats Welsh on the back and limps toward Scruff, handing the OCW Title back over~

Smith: That man is too good for this profession.

Hood: Whew. First time Zybala’s done anything remotely sane.

~Sadly, Scruff takes the title from Zybala. Mike watches as the belt is carried further and further away from him, into the arms of Belvedere on the outside. Outcast fires up and runs, knocking Welsh off the apron! Welsh lands, hard, on the metal surface outside. Zybala throws a SUPERKICK at Outcast as he spins around...but there’s no power behind it...his leg is drenched in blood from the calf down. Outcast catches it...he talks shit, he spins Zybala around...he boots Zybala in the gut, hooks him and drops him with BURNOUT!!!! Zybala goes limp. Outcast makes the cover~

1!

2!

3!!!!

~The bell rings. The fans are IRATE~

Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND STILL OCW CHAMPION...<>OUTCAST!!!!

~Trash is hurled into the ring. Outcast rolls out, quickly, before anymore icicles can hit him. A few fall, but miss Zybala. He rips the OCW Title from Belvedere~

Smith: This is horrible. Zybala was robbed, Hood.

Hood: Fiction can be fun, Smith. Zybala didn’t win that title...not the right way. Poblano was merely correcting Welsh’s mistake.

Smith: Of all the stuff that’s gone down throughout the years...THAT’s the one that had to be rectified? Management has made it clear...Zybala is not supposed to win anything in OCW.

~Welsh returns to the ring, tending to his friend. He motions for a mic. It’s handed. Outcast pauses halfway down the ramp, OCW Title over his shoulder, eager to hear what Welsh has to say~

Marcus Welsh: What happened tonight...is an injustice. Sadly, one I cannot undo. However, what I can do to attempt to right what’s been wronged is this...I can announce that at Access Denied we will see the biggest rematch in OCW history. I can confirm that at Access Denied we will get Outcast defending the OCW Title against…

~Suddenly, his mic is cut off~

Smith: What happened?

Hood: Fuckin Canada. The electrical grid probably got cut off because they didn’t pay the bill to the Americans.

Smith: We’re still on air, Hood. That theory makes absolutely no sense.

Hood: What the fuck was Welsh about to say, anyway? Is he really going to give that loon Zybala another shot at killing this company by winning the OCW Title/

Smith: I think so! And it’s WELL EARNED.

~A graphic suddenly appears on the OCWTron~

~The fans BOOOOOOO! They throw trash into the ring. They are pissed. Welsh looks at the graphic and drops his head in defeat, holding onto Zybala’s wound to keep anymore blood from easily flowing out. Outcast looks over his shoulder and nods...he’s good with this~

Smith: No! NO

Hood: Yes! Finally, an OCW Title match worth watching!

Smith: Zybala has been screwed and NOTHING is going to be done about it. THIS ISN’T FAIR

Hood: Life isn’t fair, Smith.

Smith: I...ugh. Whatever.

Hood: And that’s it for us, folks. Outcast is the champ and he’s facing Mario Maurako for the title at Access Denied. Rest easy, OCW fans. All is well. All is well.

~And, with Hood’s final line. We get a shot of Outcast holding the title high with the graphic over him and Maurako displayed over his shoulder. We fade out~