LIVE! Saturday, February 28th, 2015
From Poco Do Diablo in Chapada Diamantina, Brazil
~Our screen goes black. Blackness, nothing can be seen. Footsteps echo in the darkness as the screaming, live audience can be heard in the background. Chants of “Dean” sound out. They are followed by chants of “Mack”...then chants of “Danny”...finally, chants of “Grenier” spill out as the crowd is attempting to guess who the steps may belong to. An “Alice” chant begins before, finally, an overwhelming “Syren” chant is heard. That’s when an unexpected face steps into view. It is Rob Lowe~
Rob Lowe: Hi, I’m Rob Lowe.
~Rob Lowe pauses as a giant, muscular, menacing looking figure steps into view. He doesn’t look douchy, like that Meat Head Rob Lowe guy, no, this Rob Lowe looks like a total badass~
OCW Rob Lowe: And I’m OCW Rob Lowe
~OCW Rob Lowe quickly grabs Rob Lowe by the throat and chokeslams him into the unforgiving, hard black floor. Rob Lowe groans as OCW Rob Lowe looks into the camera~
OCW Rob Lowe: Welcome to Revenge.
~The Revenge logo fizzles in, erasing the super cool, OCW Rob Lowe. As it does, The Glitch Mob’s “Can’t Kill Us” begins to play. Several of the current OCW stars are shown amidst the backdrop of OCW’s Cube. They all look ready for battle. The song hits its crescendo as Mack O’Connor holds up his OCW Title. We cut to Chad Vargas~
Chad Vargas: Tonight, I turn out the lights on that lame sumbitch Bob Grenier and defeat Mack O’Connor for the OCW Title.
~We cut to Bob Grenier with a joint hanging out of the left side of his mouth, like a toothpick~
Bob Grenier: If Chad Vargas thinks he’s walking out of Revenge with anything more than an enormous hospital bill, he’s as delusional as he’s always been.
~We cut to the entire group of participants in the Sub Zero match with the number 35 showing in the top left corner. It begins to rapidly drop as we zoom in on the group, closing in on Captain Canada’s face. We pull back out to find Ashe Dawson stretching his neck~
Ashe Dawson: Last year, my run to the top was cut short. This year, I will etch my name into the OCW history books.
~A shot of TLS is shown as he simply looks into the camera and releases a quiet, methodical laugh. A shot of Awe.Some, along with their sister Rachel is shown. They all look beyond eager to get their point across~
Ricky Valdez: Revenge is here and we’d like to let you all know that...
Randy Valdez: OCW hair gel is in demand! Buy it now, you thick haired Brazilians!
Rachel Valdez: Guys!! We’ve only got so much time to hype...
~We cut away to Itsumade and Black Puma who both glare into the camera, refusing to say anything. We then see a shot Alice Knight holding a set of keys with a prideful smile~
Alice Knight: I have a home! And, after tonight, I will have something new to decorate the interior...maybe I’ll hang it on my bedpost, or maybe on the door, or maybe I’ll put a giant magnet on it and put it on my fridge, or maybe...
~We cut away from Alice’s rambling to a shot of Tatum Coe who is shaking his head~
Tatum Coe: I really can’t stand this bitch.
~A shot of “The Ripper” Danny B is shown~
Danny B: I was one of the longest reigning Tag Champs in OCW History. I became the OCW Central Champion. I was inducted into the OCW Hall of Fame. But I’ve never won a singles match for an OCW singles championship. Tonight, that changes...tonight, I will be the worthiest of them all.
~Our shot of Danny flips away with PerZag shaking his head~
PerZag: I am worthy of the Savage Title; Danny B is not. I am worthy of the Hall of Fame. A House of Mirrors Match with an opportunity to increase my already amazing resume? I can’t wait.
~We are shown Bifford eating a giant ham~
The Big Bifford: Dangerous Dan, I am going to defeat you tonight. I don’t know why President Lurrr has to be involved or why the words ‘Hall of Fame’ are next to Dangerous Dan’s name, but that’s okay. I will defeat you and I will then murder you. I think that’s legal in Brazil.
~We cut to Lurrr who is sighing in frustration~
Lurrr: He can think he’s fighting Dangerous Dan all he wants, but the fact of the matter is he’s facing the first ever World Champion, the first ever Hall of Fame inductee and, now, the first ever Hall of Fame Champion. It may be a dumpster match and Bifford may be the size of a whale, but I will figure out a way to dump his ass where it belongs.
~Finally, a shot of Mack O’Connor is shown as the song is nearing its end. He has the OCW Title over his shoulder, patting the face of it~
Mack O’Connor: Tonight I prove that I am more than the champion of a dying federation. Tonight, when people mention the names of all time greats, Mack O’Connor will roll right off their tongue. Tonight, I will leave Brazil STILL OCW Champion.
~Mack O’Connor fizzles out as we cut to the live, sold out audience in Brazil!! They are on their feet and screaming, chanting “OCW! OCW! OCW!” Our first LIVE shot of ‘The Cube’ hanging over the edge of the cliff, surrounding the OCW ring is shown. It is every bit as breathtaking as we could have imagined. Zooming around the crowd, it’s obvious to tell the alcohol is flowing and the adrenaline is pumping. We cut to Smith and Hood who are near the crowd, seated at an announce table, looking out over The Cube. Smith is dressed in the nicest suit he could afford while Hood managed to toss on a polo shirt with a pair of jeans~
Smith: Hello again everyone and welcome to OCW 2015...and, more importantly, welcome to REVENGE!!
Hood: Holy shit, these Brazilian women are hot!!
Smith: Okay
Hood: And, ya know, this crowd is pretty raucous as well.
Smith: That’s better...what a lineup we have for you guys tonight as EVERY OCW title is on the line...including the brand new OCW Hall of Fame Championship.
Hood: We are finally getting Lurrr versus The Big Bifford in an OCW ring...I mean, that’s like Mila Kunis and Jessica Alba engaging in some lesbian porn...it’s fucking amazing.
Smith: DON’T RUIN IT.
Hood: Okay, fine...I’ve seen your wife, so we’ll cater to your tastes...Melissa McCarthy and that bitch from Precious.
Smith: DISGUSTING...anyway, folks...we also have three brand new OCW titles...they are called the Savage Title, the Paradigm Title and the Ascension Title.
Hood: I’m digging the Paradime Title...it’s about time we had a belt named after American currency.
Smith: ParaDIGM title, not DIME...geezus, Hood. It means pure.
Hood: Well that’s kind of a letdown...and pretty fucking gay.
Smith: Unlike you, I’m excited for all three titles...especially the Ascension Title. Seeing someone like Ashe Dawson take on a legend like The Lost Soul...that should be interesting.
Hood: So, they’ve found him?
Smith: Dawson?
Hood: No, The Lost Soul
Smith: You’re really rusty with the jokes, Hood
Hood: Hey, don’t blame me, blame the Brazilian women, they are very distracting.
Smith: Also, a Tag Team Match involving a duo of the most talented newcomers OCW has seen since Perfectly Marvelous, Awe.Some...taking on Black Puma and the Undefeated Itsumade.
Hood: I refuse to call that match, because I cannot pronounce the masked guy’s name.
Smith: Too bad, it’s in the cube.
Hood: Fuck
Smith: And, as if that weren’t enough...OCW’s first ever Sub Zero Match for the Oh Shit Contract.
Hood: Yea, that’s been bothering me Smithereens, how the hell are we going to have a Sub Zero match in this climate...it’s downright tropical.
Smith: Well, if you, I don’t know, did your homework, perhaps you’d realize it’s going to be in a climate controlled room.
Hood: Oooohhhh...yea, that does make sense.
Smith: And that’s what I’m here for...folks, those are the appetizers all leading to our main event as the winner of Grenier and Vargas will face Mack O’Connor inside The Cube for the OCW Title.
Hood: I’ve got Chad Vargas, he’s clearly the best of the trio. Mack has enjoyed a lengthy run of zero title defenses...but that comes to an end, tonight.
Smith: I’m going for O’Connor...I hope he shows his doubters, mainly guys like you, that he is a true OCW Champion.
Hood: Yea and you probably thought the tortoise would beat the hare.
Smith: The Tortoise DID beat the hare.
Hood: Are you serious?
Smith: Yep
Hood: Staff! I need some documentation proving this unbelievable notion!
Smith: While Hood receives confirmation on a childhood tale I was pretty sure we’d all been told...let’s cut to our second location and the trio of Jones, Killface and Brother D...guys, take it away!
~We cut to a large amphitheater which has been constructed for the sole purpose of broadcasting Revenge. There is no roof as the sun, past its apex, is shining down on the ring, making the shadows stretch. The crowd is yelling and cheering, waving Brazilian flags all over the place. A few of those soccer air horns are sounding out as we’ve got a soccer style crowd on hand. Our view settles on Jones, Killface and Brother D. Jones, like Smith, is dressed nicely. Killface, as always, is uniquely nude. Brother D is sliding his finger in and out of a bottle top~
Jones: Thank you, Smith! Folks, I am so excited to be calling half of tonight’s action with Killface and, umm, Brother D.
Killface: Brazil certainly has changed a lot since my last visit three hundred years ago.
Jones: Yea, I’ve been told a lot can happen in three centuries.
Brother D: Three century old pussy is dusty but I’d still get all up in it!!
Jones: And, thank you for that, Brother D...I’m told President Dean has an announcement to make but, first...we are going to jump right into the action as the #1 Contender’s Match is set to get underway! Let’s head down to ringside!
Bob Grenier (0 pts) vs. “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas (0 pts)
Predator: Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to REVENGE!!!
~The crowd goes wild inside the temporary Brazilian Amphitheater. We cut to the announce table of Smith and Hood who are watching on their monitors as they are positioned near the cliff and The Cube. They can hear the cheers echoing in the distance as they stand and clap, applauding OCW’s long awaited return~
Predator: Our first match is a Traditional Singles Match and it is scheduled for one fall...
~ Smart Went Crazy begins echoes throughout the arena and Bob Grenier makes his way out to a nice ovation. He slaps the hands of his fans while he mouths the words of the song to himself, about half way down the aisle he stops and looks up and throws both hands in the air in tribute to his deceased relatives. He looks directly into the OCW camera and then playfully turns it towards the audience before he slides under the bottom rope. The fans continue to cheer as he sits on the top turnbuckle silently awaiting his opponent~
Predator: Introducing FIRST, from Timmins, Ontario, Canada...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222lbs...Bob Grenier!!
~After announcing Grenier’s name, Predator glides near him and tries to massage Grenier on the shoulders. Grenier attempts to politely shove him away, at first, but soon realizes subtle isn’t going to work with Predator as he only increases his aggression. Grenier shoves Predator into a corner and threatens to punch him. Predator throws his arms up in protest, not really wanting to get beat down. Grenier puts his fist down and steps towards the ropes nearest the entrance, eager for his nemesis, Chad Vargas to enter~
Predator: And his opponent...
~”Needle and the Spoon” by Lynyrd Skynyrd strikes throughout the arena as the fans stand and boo loudly at the sight of Chad Vargas. He emerges behind the corner and plays to the boos, as if they were cheering him. Grenier has a dangerous look in his eye as he can’t seem to stand still~
Predator: From Everclear County, Tennessee...standing 6’4 and weighing in at 240 lbs...he is “The Confederate Icon” Chad Vargas!!!
~Grenier flies through the ropes with Vargas taking his sweet time getting to the ring. Methodically and with an obvious mission, Grenier reaches under the ring and obtains a chair. He makes his way up the aisle as Vargas has his back to Grenier. Grenier is within striking distance, coiled and ready to strike. Vargas turns around and Grenier drills him in the head with a steel chair!! The crowd reacts positively as Grenier continues to pound away on Vargas with the steel chair~
Jones: Chaos has erupted here at Revenge!! Our first match into the new OCW era and these two just couldn’t wait for each other to get to the ring to begin throwing fists or, well, in this case...steel.
Killface: I say, that steel sounds rather fresh against a man’s flesh, doesn’t it Jones?
Brother D: Flesh of the Pussy!
Jones: I am so glad they signed you to a long term contract, Brother D. You bring SO much to this position.
Killface: I was under the impression this was a traditional sparring match...was I mistaken? It’s happened before.
Jones: No, you were not, unfortunately for Dean’s mandatory stipulation, Grenier attacked Vargas before the bell sounded.
Killface: Ah, what a debaucherous move, I like it.
~Gruff hops out of the ring and rushes down the aisle, attempting to urge Grenier to halt in his assault and take things back to the ring. Grenier grabs a handful of popcorn from a nearby fan and sprinkles it on the ground. Gruff forgets all about his job and dives for the food. During the moment this took place, Vargas was able to get on all fours and hooks Grenier’s leg, tripping him to the ground. In the process of falling, the back of Grenier’s head slams into the guard rail. Vargas reaches his feet, his forehead showing a bit of blood from the wicked chair shot Grenier had delivered. His back is reddening from the several blows it suffered as well. Vargas reaches into the crowd and he grabs a woman’s purse, finding it to be ridiculously heavy. Grenier reaches his feet, rubbing the back of his head. Vargas swings the purse, much like an athlete would the discus, and slams it right into Grenier’s face!! Grenier’s body flies into the guardrail, bending it back into the crowd. Vargas drops the purse and he dives at Grenier, wrapping his hands around Grenier’s throat, attempting to choke the life out of him~
Jones: Somebody who isn’t homeless and starving needs to do something about this!!
Killface: I’ll go crush each man’s skull, hold on
Jones: No, no...that’s okay.
Killface: Really? Because I’ll do it right now, I can crush a bowling ball with these ageless mitts of mine.
Jones: We don’t want them DEAD...merely restrained.
Brother D: You can’t restrain me from eating that POONTANG!
Jones: You may, on the other hand, crush Brother D’s skull.
Killface: Let ponder on that for a moment.
~With Vargas attempting to choke the life out of Grenier, Grenier reaches up with his hands and begins to plug his thumbs into Vargas’ eyes. Vargas yells out in pain from the painful retaliation. Before too much damage can be caused, several hired security guards sprint down. One pulls Vargas away from Grenier and quickly inspects both of Vargas’ eyes. He finds them red and irritated but, overall, fine. The other grasps Grenier in a bear hug. They are about to lose their grip when several more rush down, aiding in keeping the two hated rivals apart. With the men separated, Dean appears on the ramp way, looking furious. He has a mic in his hand and speaks~
President Dean: MOTHER FUCKERS! You just...you just couldn’t...
~Dean takes a breath, attempting to keep his blood pressure from forcing a heart attack~
President Dean: You know what? Fine...fucking fine. You two morons want to go at it without any rules? Then go ahead...but not..right...now.
~The crowd is in stunned silence as they had expected Dean to make the match a hardcore rules encounter. Both Grenier and Vargas seem surprised as well as Dean rolls his eyes, obviously not excited to say what he’s about to~
President Dean: Bad behavior shouldn’t be rewarded but, what-the-fuck-ever, you guys have already ruined this match. So, you two will BOTH advance to the Main Event, making it a Triple Threat. And, I hope...no, I pray, one of you kills the other before the night is out.
~Dean drops the mic on the stage, producing a loud ‘pop’. He points at the security guards, stressing that they keep the two apart until the Main Event. Vargas and Grenier both try to fight toward one another, but the amount of muscle bound security men are too much~
Jones: Well this match has been RUINED...ruined by two selfish individuals.
Killface: I’m rather annoyed at the moment, far more annoyed than the time that low life vagabond, Robin Hood, stole my barrel full of potatoes.
Jones: Robin Hood robbed from you?
Killface: Yes
Brother D: I would steal that pussy from an apple sauce can
Jones: Okay, well I’m going to toss it back to our main announce team as we have nothing left to talk about here. Smith, Hood...back to you
~We cut back to the main setting, on the edge of a Brazilian Cliff. Hood looks over at Smith with clear disdain on his face~
Smith: What??
Hood: Don’t ever quit.
Smith: Aww, thanks...but why the change of heart?
Hood: Because if I have to sit next to that Brother E guy, I will commit a public homicide, followed by a slow, painful suicide.
Smith: Oh dear, yea, I’ll stick around.
Hood: It’s like picking between a kick in the balls or watching Avatar...just fucking horrendous this life I lead.
Smith: Well, before you continue to soil the wonderful compliment you paid me, how about we talk about Grenier and Vargas being thrust into the Main Event?
Hood: Dean’s obviously losing it, I would’ve booked that shit years ago.
Smith: Yes, but the card was only announced a month ago.
Hood: Well, then, I would have announced it four weeks ago.
Smith: It does add another dimension to an already interesting lineup. However, Mack O’Connor has to feel a bit edged in this scenario.
Hood: Hey, if you’re the OCW Champion, you’ve got to get over it. The champ in this place is always getting shafted...welcome to the top of the mountain, Mack O’Connor.
Smith: Right...well, I for one can’t wait to see our main event...however, we have a full lineup ahead of us...so...
~Suddenly “Voodoo Child” by Jimi Hendrix hits as the fans all rise to their feet. President Dean emerges from behind the curtain. He stands, hands on his hips and takes in the raucous south american contingent. He slowly raises the roof for a few seconds, to a loud ovation as the crowd remembers his wrestling days. Dean smirks before heading down the stair case...across the walkway and into The Cube~
Smith: Here he is, Hood...the man of the hour, OCW President Dean!
Hood: He looks in solid shape, you think he’s down there to wrestle?
Smith: In a suit? He’s OCW President, not El Presidente
Hood: I was just asking...say, how do you think he got back over here so fast?
Smith: I’m sure he has speedy transportation, designed to get him to and from both venues on a moment’s notice...plus the Amphitheatre is only, like half a mile away.
Hood: Hmm, okay, guess it’s better not to ask questions.
Smith: Indeed
President Dean: What’s up you crazy assed, Brazilian suckas?!?!
~The crowd goes wild as several thickly accented chants of “OCW” and “Dean” echo throughout the Brazilian wilderness. Dean, in the middle of The Cube...looks at the surrounding bleachers, extending over the cliff by thick, supportive metal beams. He waves at the crowd behind The Cube...the crowd to the right and then the left before motioning to the people seated and standing at the edge of the cliff~
President Dean: Well, here it is...THE CUBE! Fucking great, right? Yea, I thought so. A few things about The Cube before we officially get this evening underway...first of all, the engineer had a slight fuck up while constructing the Cube. He got his dimensions wrong.
~A random fan yells out “Idioto!”~
President Dean: Oh, don’t you worry about him...we dealt with him, swiftly. Sadly, there was no time to correct the error...so, The Cube is slightly larger than the ring. Therefore, at any given time during a match within The Cube, two sides of the ring will have some ‘breathing’ room between the Cube and the apron. That is why you see the sturdy, metal awning lining the ring...that way, if a wrestler goes over the ropes and falls between The Cube and the ring, they don’t, you know, fall all the way into the water below.
~The crowd nods as it all makes sense~
President Dean: Right, right...see, that’s what we’re all about here, thinking ahead and making shit work. Moving on...the final thing you guys need to know about The Cube...every match within these plexiglass walls will be held under No Disqualification Rules!
~The crowd erupts with overt pleasure upon hearing that cool news. Dean smiles~
President Dean: Once again, thank you all for joining us tonight and enjoy OCW’s… Revenge!
~‘Voodoo Child’ plays on the PA as President Dean begins to leave the ring with the crowd cheering for the matches to start but then Dean’s music is cut off by silence. Dean looks puzzled as he looks around, wondering why his music stopped until he sees a beautiful blonde white woman with bright lavender lipstick wearing a gorgeous white dress and high heels standing at the top of the ramp. The men of the crowd whistle as the mysterious woman smiles, with a wink, as she makes her way slowly down the ramp and into the ring hanging from the cliff. Dean hands the woman a microphone before taking her hand and kissing it~
President Dean: I don’t know who you are but you are welcome to OCW! Now, is there a name that comes with all this?
~The woman smiles at Dean’s comments before raising the microphone to her lips~
???: My name is of no concern to you, Monsieur Dean. I have come to your ring to deliver a message to you from a disgruntled employee. He would like me to say…
~She pauses as Dean’s face when from satisfied to even more puzzled. The crowd begins to stir as a disturbance starts to form at the base of the cliff~
???: Préparez-vous à sentir la colère de Monsieur Incroyable!
~At that moment, a stranger from the crowd with a grappling hook swings the hook around one of the thick ropes holding the ring up and slides down before diving into the ring, scaring the shit out of President Dean. The man is wearing a ski mask, not revealing his face as President Dean stares off with the mystery man. The crowd is hot, wondering what exactly is about to take place. The masked man reaches in his pants and takes out a steel rod and advances toward Dean~
President Dean: Now hold on just a minute sucka—
~Before Dean could speak another word the man smashed the steel rod right into Dean’s face as he falls to the ground with the crowd booing. Blood begins to come out of Dean’s head as the man stands atop of him, looking out into the crowd. He takes his hand and takes his mask off and throws it out of the ring, into the lake below as the crowd gasps and instantly boos at the OCW Hall of Famer~
Smith: No way!
Hood: Yes! It’s Ian Bishop!
~Ian picks Dean up and throws him into a corner turnbuckle as he begins punching Dean continuously in the face where the new cut is as blood pours from his face. Security begins to come down as the mystery woman grabs the steel rod and swings it profusely in the ring, not allowing security to enter the ring from the only entrance. Ian finally picks Dean up in the air before planting him the middle of the ring with his ‘Incredible Drop’ brainbuster. The crowd begins to chant ‘bull shit’ as Dean lies motionless while Ian grabs a microphone from the ground and bends down, staring at Dean~
Ian Bishop: This isn’t over… by a long shot.
~Ian smashes the microphone into Dean’s head as Ian wraps his arms around the mystery woman and the two begin to make out before the two of them are separated by security and escorted individually out of the ring. A medical team rushes to the ring to check on President Dean as the camera cuts to commentary~
Smith: Oh my gosh!! What an atrocious act...do NOT show him on camera...get the camera off that evil man!!
Hood: Can they still show the woman?
Smith: No! Folks, we’re going to cut away while things out here get situated...hopefully this will lighten the mood as we wait for an update on Dean’s condition. We now take you to a segment that was taped just moments before Dean made his entrance and was, shortly after, violently assaulted.
~We now go backstage.
Well, actually, no we don't.
Well, actually, okay we sort've do.
We're backstage, but outside backstage. Awe.Some along with Rachel Valdez is standing on an elevated platform. Jones, OCW's lovable interviewer, is also there with a microphone in hand. Rachel... is armed with a sling shot? Why yes, she is holding a sling shot. In the distant background we can make out the rafters filled with fans as well as some of the beautiful scenery surrounding the ring area here in Chapada Diamantina. And of course we can make out the Cube, the infamous creation of OCW President Dean which houses the ring as it looms close to the edge of the Poco do Diablo~
Jones: Ladies and gentleman please welcome at this time Ricky and Randy Valdez.
~A cheer comes from the crowd in the background~
Ricky Valdez: Hey what's up Brazil?! Ricky Valdez here!
Randy Valdez: Randy Valdez too!
Ricky Valdez: Crazy excited to be here. I can't think of a better place for Awe.Some to capture some OCW gold than right here. Seriously. Look at this scenery Jones!
Randy Valdez: I made sure to pack my hiking boots along with my wrestling boots for this trip.
Jones: Ricky and Randy while I'm sure you're excited about this match, I do have to ask about your thoughts regarding the week long ordeal at OCW headquarters with the Lockwoods. President Dean has given them an ultimatum: make a statement and they'll get their contract with OCW. Are you guys worried about them taking Dean up on that offer?
Randy Valdez: Honestly it's not really much of an offer when you think about it. At first we thought it was kind of strange that Dean would essentially endorse breaking the law and follow that up by rewarding them for it."
Ricky Valdez: That's right. But then we really started to think about it. Dean's a smart man Jones. He signs the checks because he's anything but stupid. It was easy for the Lockwoods to take over OCWHQ because no one was expecting it. But Dean prepped every corner of this place for their arrival. We had to get patted down twice just to order a Coke from the gift shop. He's got more security around this place than even Ricky Rhodes can afford. The Lockwoods aren't going to bother trying because Dean would easily have their asses arrested and hauled off to jail.
Randy Valdez: And have you seen some of these Brazilian prisons Jones? They're nothing nice.
Ricky Valdez: Besides, let's say they were crazy enough to even be successful and get passed security, then what? There's one final layer of security that they cannot penetrate and that's the Cube. Remember Jones, the Cube has two purposes: To keep wrestlers in-.
Randy Valdez: And to keep wrestlers out.
Ricky Valdez: The Lockwoods are too late for this party. Let's talk about another tag team that actually will be inside the Cube.
Jones: Fair enough. ItsuPuma are the challengers you'll be facing as this historic Climb the Rope match. The titles are going to be suspended from a piece of the Cube that will be cut and lifted over the ring. What are your final thoughts as you two get ready for this match?
Randy grabs the microphone from Jones and puts on a serious face.
Randy Valdez: ItsuPuma! Since the minute we stepped foot in OCW you two guys have been tormenting us and taunting us relentlessly! You've sent out promo after promo mocking our heritage, mocking our family, and mocking our brand of wrestling. No more! These people in those stands know what we're about and they know we're not scared of you. You can threaten Ricky and myself. You can keep talking about how you're going to break our bones and kill our spirits. But we're here today to stand up to you once and for all. No more running from you ItsuPuma. Revenege! Climb the Rope! This all comes to an end here and now! Get ready boys because I promise you after today you'll never put your hands on Rachel ever again!"
~Everyone is silent and slightly puzzled. Ricky then gives a laugh~
Ricky Valdez: Nah he's just kidding Jones. None of that happened. We look forward to putting on a good match with ItsuPuma for the fans here and those watching at home. Regardless of the outcome, if ItsuPuma ever wants to do this again in the future, all they gotta do is ask. Randy it's time to rock.
Randy Valdez: Good luck guys.
~Randy hands the microphone back to Jones and Awe.Some leaves the platform~
Jones: Now let's go to the ring!
Smith: That was much needed, I absolutely adore those two!
Hood: You can have them, I’ll take RACHEL...OH YEA BABY
Smith: Easy, Tiger...
Hood: Oh, I just thought of something...so we’ve got the whole Lockwood situation hanging over the Tag Match...you assured me that Dean had so much security in place that nobody could get through, right?
Smith: Surprisingly lucid on your end...all of that is spot on.
Hood: Sweet, so...what the fuck, how did Bishop break through?
Smith: Hmm, good question...I can only assume they are looking for tatted up meth heads and not, well, Ian Bishop or whoever that attractive woman was.
Hood: Yea, but you’d think they’d be super protective over Dean...I mean, he was in the ring when all of this took place.
Smith: I don’t know what to tell you, Hood. Perhaps...
~Suddenly, we see more OCW security emerge, doubling the efforts around the ring area after what took place earlier~
Smith: Answer your question?
Hood: Oh yea, we’re good now...King Kong couldn’t get through that brigade.
Smith: Haha, Indeed! Folks, it’s time for the most unique match to hit the OCW airwaves since...
Hood: Spooky Ghost Match?
Smith: Umm, no...try something more, well, traditional.
Hood: Fuck traditional...you really think a Sub Zero match is traditional?
Smith: Okay, wrong word...how about something less goofy
Hood: Goofy?? You get into the ring with a fucking ghost and tell me how goofy that shit is.
Smith: Nevermind...ladies and gentlemen...it’s time to find out who is going to leave Revenge with the Oh Shit Contract which means it’s time...for the Sub Zero Match. I, along with Hood, will be calling this match via simulcast...let’s get to the ice box, I guess you’d call it.
Hood: It ain’t an icebox without popsicles
Smith: Will you please shaddup!
Sub Zero Match
El President (0 pts) vs. Mark Storm (0 pts) vs. Ricky Rhodes (0 pts) vs. Simon Magus (0 pts) vs. Supreme Machine (0 pts)
~”American Made” by the Wrestling Boot Band begins to play as the fans seated around the Icebox watch as El Presidente appears from behind a curtain and steps forward, to the Icebox. It is large and plain looking on the exterior with a window on each side. A giant, thick, air proof door is pulled open by Puff, OCW’s chubby third referee, who is dressed in the warmest clothes he could find. A rush of cold air emerges, hitting El Presidente in the face...he is unfazed and enters, wearing a suit and mask~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from The Good Ol’ US of A...standing 6’1 and weighing in at 212lbs...El Presidente de los Estados Unidos!!!
~”Far From Any Road” by The Handsome Family begins to play as OCW fans react a little louder than before, recognizing and remembering Mark Storm. He is wearing a hooded sweatshirt and MMA gloves, to go along with pants. Puff opens the door as Storm shivers from the cool breeze before entering~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from Brooklyn, New York...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 209 lbs...Mark Storm!!!
~”Public Enemy No. 1” by Megadeath hits with the fans in attendance booing the arrogant, spoiled Ricky Rhodes. He smiles, enjoying the reaction he’s receiving. Ricky is wearing top of the line gear, designed to keep him warm. On the side of his thick, athletic coat we see a panel. Ricky turns it up a notch, upon feeling the cold blast of air hitting him from inside...it increases the heat being produced from his athletic gear...he enters into the Icebox~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from Santa Clara, California...standing 6’1 and weighing in at 217lbs...Ricky Rhodes!!!
~”Warheart” by Children of Boredom begins to play as the crowd grows silent, unaware of how to react to the monster before them. Supreme Machine stalks his way towards the Icebox. Unlike everyone else, he’s dressed normal, with his arms exposed. Puff gives him a puzzled look before shrugging and opening the door. SuMa enters without reacting at all to the cold air blasting his bare skin~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from The Boiler Room, standing 6’9 and weighing in at 315lbs...Supreme Machine!!!
~”LJÓSBERINN” by Dead Skeletons hits as the fans wait and watch for Simon Magus, who fails to appear~
Belvedere: And, finally, from Parts Unknown, standing 6’3 and weighing in at 240lbs...Simon Magus!!
~Belvedere’s voice fades out, as he introduced the participants via simulcast. Magus continues to no show as Puff waits by the door, looking at a watch on his wrist~
Smith: No sign of Magus yet...while we wait, let’s show you what happened to the other advertised participants...
~We cut to a shot of Captain Canada, Ryan Smith, Barbaric, Angelus Archer and Caution who all enter the Icebox at the same time, ready for war. A few seconds later, we hear “Fuck This!” as Caution bolts out, followed by the other participants~
Smith: Yep, apparently it was too cold for those participants as they quit the match before it began.
Hood: Fuckin pussies
Smith: Caution does surprise me, as he’s a pretty tough guy
Hood: Eh, he’s old with brittle bones, was probably afraid every bone in his body might snap if he stayed in there too long
Smith: Indeed...well, now if only Simon Magus would appear we could...wait a minute!
~Magus suddenly emerges from behind the curtain with a steel chair in his hands. He charges down to the Icebox as Puff goes to shut it...it’s too late, Magus hurls Puff out of the way and forces his way into the Icebox with the chair. Puff pulls himself up and enters into the Icebox, shutting the door behind him...a bell sounds~
Smith: And we’re underway...Magus is on a mission with that chair.
Hood: He has corrupted the icebox! It’s like when someone puts low fat, weight watchers shit in the freezer.
Smith: How does that corrupt an icebox?
Hood: Because, they can get in the way and hide stuff like ice cream, frozen pizzas and bottles of vodka.
~Our view switches to inside the icebox as Magus goes right after SuMa, drilling him in the gut with the chair. SuMa doubles over and Magus nails him in the back with the chair. SuMa falls to all fours as Magus nails him in the back over and over again until SuMa is flat on his face. Magus measures SuMa up and slams the chair into his head, crashing it against the tiled floor. We hear the fans groan. Magus goes for another one and, again, crushes SuMa’s head in between the steel chair and the tiled floor. Looking down at SuMa, Magus turns and stares at Rhodes. Rhodes laughs and hands a wad of cash over. Magus pockets it into his jeans as he stands in the Icebox shirtless~
Smith: What is this skullduggery!!!
Hood: What the who?
Smith: It’s a word, look it up
Hood: Dictionaries are for morons
Smith: That makes no sense
~Rhodes pats Magus on the chest and points at the other two competitors, Storm and El Presidente. He makes the money sign with his hand. Magus turns and walks towards Storm. As he does, Rhodes picks up the chair and he clobbers Magus over the back of the head with it!! Magus stumbles forward as Rhodes darts in front of him, grabs his head, kicks his feet up against the wall and the edge of the tile at the start of the mirror, pushes off and he drops Magus in the middle of the Icebox with an Asai DDT (VIP Treatment)!!! Magus is laid out as Rhodes pops to his feet and he points at Storm, saying “he’s all yours”. Storm, not one to let an opportunity slip by, pins Magus~
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: Simon Magus has been eliminated!
Smith: That hardly seemed fair
Hood: It was totally fair, Magus got paid
Smith: So, you’re telling me he’d rather get paid than win?
Hood: He is a mercenary, I’m sure he’ll be fine
~Rhodes and Storm hurl Magus out of the Icebox after Puff uses his key to open the door. Puff shuts the air tight door back, locking it. SuMa remains motionless as Storm turns to Rhodes, saying something about El Presidente. As he turns his head to fully address Rhodes, Rhodes drills him in the side of the face with a Spinning Wheel Kick!!! Storm falls to the cold, unforgiving tiled surface as Rhodes pops back to his feet and stares down El Presidente~
Smith: And we have our first intense stare down of the evening!
Hood: Apparent or supposed stare down
Smith: Huh?
Hood: El Presidentay is wearing a mask, we have no idea what he’s looking at
Smith: You can clearly see the whites of his eyes!
Hood: Can we? Or is that some elaborate trick to throw us all off?
Smith: Please, spare us all on your masked wrestler conspiracy theories this evening
Hood: You cannot suppress the truth...for the truth...it is out there.
~Rhodes and El Presidente lock up in the middle of the Icebox. El Presidente shoves Rhodes against one of the tiled walls. He nails Rhodes in the chin with a few elbows as Rhodes staggers to the side and is standing in front of one of the super thick windows. EP throws a punch at Rhodes, Rhodes ducks and EP’s fist slams into the glass!! He grabs his fist in pain, throwing his back at Rhodes. Rhodes leaps into the air, puts his knees into EP’s back and drops him with a back stabber!! EP rolls around, holding his back in pain as Rhodes grabs his back in pain after landing on the hard surface~
Smith: I think Ricky Rhodes is going to learn fairly quickly those types of maneuvers are not conducive to the environment.
Hood: Or, he’s going to figure out that flying through the air inside that fucking icebox is going to really hurt.
Smith: That’s what I just said
~Storm is back on his feet and he spots Rhodes, with anger in his eyes. Walking over, he lays a few stiffly placed boots to the body of Rhodes. EP gets to his feet as well and he helps Storm stomp away on Rhodes. The crowd can be heard cheering through the speakers while watching Storm and EP kick away on Rhodes. Storm finally picks Rhodes up as EP stands back...Storm whips Rhodes at EP...EP catches him, twirls around and drills him into the tiled floor with a Spinebuster!!! The crowd cheers loudly as EP goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Closer than he would like to admit, but Ricky Rhodes survives
Hood: That’s isn’t fair...Mark Storm, who apparently had facial reconstructive surgery since we last saw him, is double teaming him with the help of...that masked creature.
Smith: His name is El Presidente and he’s a luchador under the impression that he’s the current President of the United States.
Hood: THE PRESIDENT IS HERE?
Smith: He’s only the president in his mind
Hood: That’s kinda harsh I mean why wouldn’t the president think he’s the president?
Smith: Nevermind
~EP returns to his feet and he pulls Rhodes up...grabbing the back of Rhodes hair, he drags him to the door and slams him face first into the air locked device. Rhodes falls to one knee as EP kicks him in the side of the head, laying him out. Suddenly, a running knee comes out of nowhere, slamming EP in the kidney!! EP staggers forward slamming his palms into the window. The fans all tilt backwards on the other side. EP turns around and is caught with a spear into the title wall!! EP hunches over as Storm grabs his head and slams the back of it into the window. Storm then hooks his arm under EP’s and he drops him with a hip toss into the middle of the Icebox~
Smith: This is a highly unique situation...I mean, a move as seemingly harmless as a hip toss can be devastating.
Hood: Hip tosses are brutal, I used to devastate the elderly division with them...I’d be breaking hips like whoa.
Smith: If that’s true, how can you live with yourself?
Hood: When you’re holding the Applesauce Championship, the means definitely justify the end.
~Storm reaches down and he places his hands around the slick, round head of EP. Pulling EP to his feet, Storm talks a little trash before whipping him towards one of the windows. EP shows some tremendous agility in leaping into the air, landing his feet on the ledge beneath the window springboarding off of it with a superkick into the face of Storm!! Storm staggers back, falls down and slams the back of his head into the opposite wall!! He clutches the back of his head in pain as EP stands up and salutes the fans, one window at a time~
Smith: Great move by El Presidente...a move he calls Sweet Spangled Banner...but he may want to stay focused on the match at hand.
Hood: So, is Supreme Machine dead?
Smith: Excellent question, Magus really did a number on him at the start and Puff...well, I don’t know if he’s competent enough to perform a quality health check.
Hood: I wonder if he froze while laying there...speaking of, how cold are we now?
Smith: Oh my! Caught up in all the excitement, I totes forgot...we’re down to 29 degrees...muy frio!!!
Hood: Totes? Geez you’re a fuckin retard
~Rhodes, still on the tiled floor looks over at SuMa, who is still face down on the floor. He crawls over to SuMa’s body and struggles at first, but eventually rolls him over. Rhodes throws his arm over SuMa’s chest as Puff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: There’s the answer to your question!! SuMa is alive and well!
Hood: Great, but what about Supreme Machine?
Smith: SuMa IS Supreme Machine...
Hood: Wait, so the President is here but possibly insane and Supreme Machine is two people? I’m so fucking confused.
~Rhodes eyes widen as he looks down at SuMa before slowly crawling away, as far from him as possible. Rhodes sits in the edge of a corner, running his hands through his air, watching SuMa begin to stir. We spot EP who has finished saluting the crowd...he unearths an AMERICAN FLAG from his coat pocket and begins to wave ‘Old Glory’ around to chants of USA~
Smith: I’m not quite sure what to make of this scene
Hood: So, wait, that’s the President...the weirdo in the mask?
Smith: To some, sure
Hood: Wow, props to Dean. I know he said he didn’t have any surprises for tonight, but to get Barack Obama to wrestle wearing a mask...man, what a coup!
~Rhodes looks over at EP who has finished saluting the crowd and is carefully folding the flag back up, into a triangle, before placing it into his coat pocket. Rhodes hops to his feet and he smacks EP in the chest and points at SuMa. EP ignores Rhodes...Rhodes says something about money but EP shouts “I am incorruptible!” The crowd cheers his desire to remain cheat free. Rhodes rolls his eyes and he kicks EP in the groin to a huge chorus of boos. Rhodes then DDTs EP into the tiled surface, leaving EP motionless...Rhodes quickly goes for the pin as Puff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: El Preisdente has been Eliminated!
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
Smith: And El Presidente has been eliminated!
Hood: Where is he? Where is our president?
Smith: Umm, leaving the icebox, I suppose
Hood: I’m going to go visit with Barry, he’s my idol.
~Hood exits the announce table as Smith tries to explain the Icebox is not nearly as close to them as he seems to think. Meanwhile, EP is escorted from the icebox as Storm rushes Rhodes with Puff shutting the door after EP’s exit. Storm and Rhodes trade lefts and rights, brawling all round the Icebox. SuMa continues to stir, but still seems a good distance away from making a charge. Rhodes gains the upper hand, overwhelming Storm with his lightning quick jabs. Storm staggers against one of the tiled walls as Rhodes hits him in the gut. Storm notices the device on the side of Rhodes jacket. He reaches out and rips at it. Rhodes tries to fight his arm away...Storm gets a good grip and he rips it away!! We see a few sparks fly as the warmth suddenly begins to leave Rhodes body. Storm then drills Rhodes in the head with the hard plastic!! Rhodes body twirls around as he stumbles away. Storm rushes in as he leaps in the air, grabs the back of Rhodes head and drills him face first into the tiled floor!! The fans cringe as that one looked painful. Storm rolls Rhodes over and he goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Another Ricky Rhodes kick out...he may be a spoiled, evil brat...but he’s proving to be tougher than a piece of year old beef jerky.
Hood: Mother fucker!
Smith: Welcome back, how was the president?
Hood: Did you know that fucking icebox is like half a mile from here...fuck that shit, he’s only the president, after all...not like it’s Katy fucking Perry.
Smith: Indeed.
~Storm sits up, breathing heavily. His breath is clearly visible as the temperature has now reached 20 degrees. Storm gets to his feet as he leans against one of the windows, staring at Ricky Rhodes. Rhodes begins to reach his feet, so Storm stands behind him and prepares for something big. Rhodes reaches his feet and he turns around right into Storm’s arms. Storm lifts Rhodes onto his shoulders into a Fireman’s Carry...he is ready to deliver his devastating maneuver Dystopia (GTS)...Rhodes begins to fight out of it with elbows to the side of Storm’s head! Storm shakes it off and lifts Rhodes in the air, but Rhodes comes down and blocks the knee! He then grabs Storm’s head, runs toward the ledge near a window, kicks off it and drops Storm in the middle of the Icebox with VIP Treatment!! Storm is laid out as Rhodes goes for the pin~
1!
2!
3!!!
Belvedere: Mark Storm has been eliminated!!
Smith: And then there were two...or maybe one and a half.
Hood: Where’s the other guy?
Smith: It’s Supreme Machine
Hood: Oh, you mean that lazy fucker who’s been napping the entire time?
Smith: Want to say that to his face?
Hood: Nah, I’m good
~With Storm having been removed, Rhodes finds the plastic device that was previously attached to his jacket. He sees if there’s any way to reattach it, but quickly finds the effort to be in total futility. He gives his body a slight hug, showing signs that the temperature is getting to him. He snaps out of it and looks over at SuMa...Rhodes smirks, spotting the steel chair Magus brought into the match lying near SuMa’s head. Rhodes saunters over to the chair and points at the crowd, mocking a few of the chubby fans in attendance. He picks up the chair and taps it against the window...he motions around his waist that he’s about to become the Oh Shit Contract winner and, soon to be, OCW Champion. Our view cuts to outside the icebox, watching Rhodes taunt the fans. Suddenly, a giant hand reaches up and grabs Rhodes by the throat!! Rhodes eyes widen as SuMa appears behind the window, on his feet and towering over Rhodes. He glares down at Rhodes with intense eyes. Rhodes tries hitting SuMa in the side of the leg with the chair, but he can’t get much momentum due to his compromised position. SuMa lifts Rhodes up and he drills him into the tiled floor!!! Rhodes body convulses a bit before flat lining. SuMa goes for a pin, Puff makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Ricky Rhodes survives!! But...I think that merely means his problems are just beginning.
Hood: If I were Rhodes, I’d want a fucking refund.
Smith: From Magus?
Hood: No, whoever made that cheap ass jacket...fucking shoddy workmanship.
~The Icebox now reads 15 degrees. SuMa’s slick hair shows a bit of frost as he stands over Rhodes, breathing heavily. Giant, visible blasts of air shoot out of the mouth and nose portions of his mask. He grabs Rhodes by the hair and drags him away from the window as our view shifts back to the camera inside the Icebox. SuMa lifts Rhodes to his feet and he wraps his hand around his throat, slamming him against the window, choking the very life out of his lungs. Rhodes looks around, anxiously, trying to chop SuMa’s arm away...he then kicks SuMa in the knee, which causes the big man to falter a bit. This allows Rhodes to effectively chop SuMa’s arm at the elbow, breaking his grip. Rhodes staggers away with SuMa slowly turning and following him. Rhodes grabs the chair and he turns around, yelling at SuMa to come on...SuMa reaches Rhodes as Rhodes goes for a chair shot...SuMa lifts his foot up and he kicks the chair into Rhodes face!!! Rhodes collapses to the tiled floor and is left lying against the tiled wall. SuMa lifts him up, he grabs Rhodes by the neck of his jacket and efficiently rips the jacket and shirts underneath down the middle, exposing Rhodes bare chest~
Smith: Uh oh...if Ricky Rhodes thought losing the heating device was bad...this, well, this is worse.
Hood: I only hope SuMa didn’t watch Fifty Shades of Grey before this match...because, if he did, he may have other, ulterior motives.
Smith: Get your mind out of the gutter!
Hood: I’m sorry, it just popped in there.
Smith: Is Christian Grey always on your mind?
Hood: YOU HOLD IT RIGHT THERE
~SuMa yanks Rhodes back to a standing position as Rhodes is completely shirtless with the shreds of what remained from his upper torso clothing hanging from the waist of his pants. SuMa opens his hand, reaches back and slaps the hell out of the chest of Ricky Rhodes!! The fans in attendance cringe as Rhodes mouth opens wide with a ton of breath flying out. He collapses to the ground, holding his chest in intense, burning pain~
Smith: Ouch
Hood: Yea, even I’m wincing after that one
Smith: We’re nearing ten degrees and that kind of leather on flesh action only increases in terms of brutality.
Hood: Leather and Flesh, huh? Sounds like YOU’RE the Christian Grey fan
Smith: Oh for the love, can we stop talking about that terrible move
Hood: Hey, you brought it up, weirdo
~SuMa yanks a shivering Rhodes to his feet as the sweaty hair of Ricky begins to ice over. SuMa delivers a thrust punch to Ricky’s throat. Ricky stumbles back, leaning against the window. SuMa leans in with a head butt, Ricky falls to his knees and crawls away as SuMa’s head SLAMS into the window with a loud “Thud!” The fans, again, all jerk back in reaction. SuMa turns around to find Ricky..he stalks Rhodes, who has found the corner of the room furthest away. He’s rubbing his arms, really feeling the sting of the cold. SuMa stalks him, standing over Rhodes. Rhodes goes for a punch into SuMa’s crotch, but SuMa catches his arm and yanks him all the way into the air, holding Rhodes above his head by the extended, straightened arm of Ricky. SuMa then tosses Ricky across his shoulders in reverse position and drills him, head first into the tiled floor with a Reverse DVD!!! Rhodes body flattens out as SuMa goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: How in the heck did Ricky Rhodes kick out of that?
Hood: Because he’s Mr. Freeze!
Smith: Huh?
Hood: I don’t know, sounded good...maybe he derives his power from the cold air?
Smith: Do you not SEE him shaking like a leaf?
Hood: I’ve never seen a leaf shake...why do people always use that analogy...leaves twist and turn in the wind...THEY DON’T SHAKE NOR DO THEY SHIVER.
~SuMa doesn’t react to the near pinfall, instead, he grips Rhodes by the throat and yanks him to his feet as he does the same. SuMa drags Rhodes around almost as though he were a small child..he lifts Rhodes in the air and pins him, by the throat, against one of the windows. SuMa tilts his head, staring into Rhodes eyes as he clamps down on his throat, choking the life out of his opponent. Rhodes tongue sticks out as his beard is beginning to show some icing. Slowly, Rhodes manages to fight his hand up, high enough and he jams a thumb into one of SuMa’s dark, black eyes. Showing that he is, in fact, kind of human, SuMa lets Rhodes go as he stumbles back, holding his face with his hand. Rhodes falls to the tiled floor and he crawls for the chair, quickly obtaining it. He clutches the ice cold steel to his chest, letting out a small yelp due to the crispness of the steel touching his warmer flesh. SuMa does not see the chair, as he has recovered and moves back towards his objective. Standing behind Rhodes, Ricky senses SuMa and he thrusts the legs of the chair behind him, they catch SuMa in the knees, chopping the behemoth down to a kneeling position. Rhodes pops to his feet as he rears back and severely dents the chair after cracking it over the head of SuMa. SuMa falls over, breathing heavily but failing to move~
Smith: That chair has completely ruined the concept!
Hood: Well, why doesn’t PUFF just disqualify Rhodes?
Smith: Because, there are no disqualifications in this match
Hood: Then why are you bitching?
Smith: Because, this match wasn’t intended for weapons!
Hood: If that chair is really bothering you this much, perhaps you should consider a new career.
~Rhodes rolls SuMa over, with his face staring the floor. He places the chair underneath SuMa’s face as he backs up and places his palms on the ledge beneath the window. He lifts himself up and struggles, but eventually finds footing on the slight ledge. He then leaps off, quickly, before he has a chance to slip and fall and drills SuMa’s face into the chair with a Curb Stomp!!! The fans all cringe as Rhodes holds his knee in pain due to the lack of give in the ground. He fights through it, rolling SuMa over. We see a bit of blood flowing out of the side of SuMa’s mouth as Rhodes covers him~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!!
Smith: Supreme Machine simply isn’t human!!
Hood: Well, he did bleed...so that’s a good sign. Now, we’ll see how long he bleeds without dying...they say to never trust something that bleeds for five days and doesn’t die.
Smith: If this match goes on for seven days, I may not have a wife to return home too.
Hood: See, you simply can’t trust women
~A frustrated Rhodes runs his hand through his hair, but he finds the task tough, due to the frozen strands atop his head. He then looks down and finds the puddle of blood from SuMa already beginning to harden. He stands up and suddenly starts to really focus in on the temperature. He looks down at SuMa the he looks at the chair...he picks up the chair, walks over to a window and he begins to repeatedly slam the chair into the window~
Smith: Is Ricky Rhodes beginning to crack? Are the conditions finally starting to get to him?
Hood: No, I think he just saw a fan he didn’t like
Smith: We are nearing 5 degrees...Sub Zero isn’t far behind...I’m actually growing concerned that they might develop hypothermia.
Hood: Well, if that were to happen, it’d be one less paycheck Dean would have to write at the end of the month.
~Our view switches to outside the Icebox as we watch Rhodes pounding away on the glass window, attempting to break it. So far, no progress is made...however, a crack suddenly emerges as the fans all gasp and start to leave their seats. Ricky stops for a moment, catching his breath...his clear exhaling fogs up the window. As the fog disappears, a few fans shriek when they see SuMa suddenly standing behind him. Ricky’s eyebrows turn inward as he slowly rotates around and is punched in the face by SuMa!! We cut back to inside the Icebox where SuMa whips Rhodes towards a tiled wall...Rhodes slams into it!! He comes staggering toward SuMa...SuMa lifts his leg up and he drills Rhodes in the face!! Rhodes falls to the harsh floor with a pretty nasty sounding thud~
Smith: Ricky Rhodes is in deep trouble at this point...SuMa just can’t be stopped, it seems.
Hood: Are we at zero yet?
Smith: I believe we’re hovering around 7 right now
Hood: For fuck’s sake, Dean is a pretty wretched human being.
Smith: Easy to say that after he’s been put in the hospital
Hood: A Brazilian hospital at that...guy’s in serious trouble
~SuMa yanks Rhodes to his feet and he quickly kicks him in the gut. Rhodes doubles over as SuMa double underhooks his arms, lifts him up and drills the top of his head into the tiled floor with the Asylum Driver (Double Underhook Piledriver)!!! He rotates Rhodes onto his back, we see a fresh cut at the part of Rhodes forehead where his hair begins, following by what almost looks like a bit of steam as the warm blood begins to seep out..SuMa goes for the pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder UP!!
Smith: Wow, again...and, man, that’s a weird sight...with that blood steaming and all.
Hood: *singing* well, he’s hot blooded, check it and see!!
Smith: Horrid time for an even worse joke
~SuMa palms the face of Ricky Rhodes, yanking him back to his feet. Rhodes seems almost like a lifeless figure, ready to fall over if it weren’t for SuMa holding him up. SuMa hoists Rhodes over his shoulder...he backs into a corner and charges with a Running Powerslam...Rhodes, though, slides off his back! SuMa turns around and Rhodes drills him with a Pele style kick in the head!! Rhodes yells “fuck!” as he grabs the back of his neck from the harsh impact...he fights through the pain, re-emerging to his feet...he jumps into the air, places his knees to the face of SuMa and drops him with a Codebreaker!!! SuMa flops over onto his back as Rhodes goes for a pin~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Well, SuMa is no longer kicking out...he’s down to the shoulder up.
Hood: Baby steps, Smith...baby steps
Smith: In all seriousness...that was a crazy, out of nowhere...super quick one-two arsenal by Rhodes...this guy is truly special.
Hood: Yea, he’s fucking tough and talented...but he hasn’t won a damn thing yet.
Smith: Indeed!
~Rhodes is rolling around, in obvious pain from the toll those high risk maneuvers have on his body due to the environment. He curls up for a moment, rubbing his arms and pressing his knees into his chest, attempting to keep his organs warm. SuMa’s skin is pale, his hair is iced over. A steady flow of visible air is seeping from his mouth as he has a constant, rhythmic breathing pattern going on. The fans outside reach their feet as they begin to clap and cheer...while neither man is endearing, the fans certainly are appreciating what they are going through...attempting to give them the necessary motivation to see the match through. Puff looks down at Rhodes and asks, “Are you okay? Do you want me to call this?”~
Smith: I think Rhodes is about to freeze to death...Puff can sense it as well...shirtless, with it nearing zero...the conditions may be too much.
Hood: Fuck Rhodes...SuMa might have died.
Smith: He’s still breathing, can’t you see??
Hood: Okay, maybe he’s in a coma.
~Puff continues to ask, looking like he’s on the verge of calling it...finally, Rhodes responds...he lifts his right arm up and extends his middle finger. Puff shakes his head and backs away, saying “Alright, it’s your health.” Rhodes lays out on his back for a moment, motionless...it’s almost eerie, with both men on their backs. Then, as if he were shot out of a cannon, Rhodes nips up to his feet! He looks down at SuMa with determination in his eyes~
Smith: Here we go, Rhodes is looking to finish this
Hood: Well, it’s either win the match now or die...basically his two options.
Smith: Hard to disagree
~Rhodes reaches down, grabbing SuMa’s icy hair...SuMa, feeling the grasp, reaches up and clutches Ricky’s throat, sitting up. Ricky, though, knees SuMa in the head!! SuMa releases his grip. Rhodes looks around frantically, spotting the chair near the cracked window. He grabs it as SuMa is on his feet. Rhodes runs at him, leaps into the air and drills SuMa in the head with the chair. SuMa staggers back...Rhodes hits him again and again before tossing the chair aside. He then kicks SuMa in the groin, SuMa bends over. Rhodes grabs his head for the VIP Treatment!! He runs towards the nearest ledge and kicks off it, flipping into the air...SuMa catches him in the air, preventing him from flipping over!! Rhodes is suddenly sitting on SuMa’s shoulders for an Electric Chair...SuMa, though, in a seamless, fluid motion turns him downward with a Cradle Piledriver!!! The crowd reacts towards the devastating maneuver...SuMa goes for the pin as Puff makes the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
Belvedere: Here is your winner...and the current holder of the Oh Shit Contract...SUPREME MACHINE!!!!!
Smith: He did it!! Wow...what a match...I just knew Rhodes was going to hit his third VIP Treatment and walk away victorious.
Hood: Fuck, these Oh Shit matches really know how to put the pressure on everyone else, don’t they?
Smith: It’s just a testament to the talent and...would you look at that, we ended the match with one degree remaining until we hit zero.
Hood: Well that’s pretty fuckin weak...can we just continue it for another minute, that way we can hit zero?
Smith: No
Hood: Killjoy
~Puff opens the sealed door as several OCW medics rush in, tending to both men. SuMa shoves them away, exiting the icebox. Rhodes, however, is unconscious and shivering uncontrollably. Heated blankets are placed around him as he’s carried out of the icebox, back into a warmer climate for recovery~
Smith: Amazing encounter...both Ricky Rhodes and Supreme Machine are here to stay, OCW fans. I could see either one wearing THE gold one day.
Hood: THE gold? Like a crown or a giant ring?
Smith: No, the OCW Title you moron.
Hood: Oh, yea...well, ya know, if fucking Lopaka is in the main event then, sure, Supreme Machine and Ricky Rhodes definitely have a chance.
Smith: Well, folks, it’s time to focus back on The Cube as...
~”Headstrong” by Trapt begins to play as everyone around the cliff give each other ‘WTF’ looks. That’s when Ryan ‘Kick’ Smith rushes out from behind the curtain and sprints to the ring for no apparent reason~
Smith: Umm
Hood: This guy’s match just happened
~Smith enters the ring, with a mic. He starts kicking the air randomly~
Ryan ‘Kick’ Smith: I did not sign on for icecube north pole glacier matches! I came here to KICK! Who wants to KICK with me?!
~Smith continues to kick the air...he starts kicking the ropes~
Smith: Guy likes to kick
Hood: No shit
~Suddenly the crowd reacts as an unknown person emerges from behind the curtain and approaches the walkway leading towards The Cube~
Smith: Who is this?!
~A blonde haired man struts down to the ring rocking a cream colored button down shirt and a pair of straight leg wranglers~
Hood: I don’t fucking have any such idea but damn are his pants tight. They look painted on.
~It’s almost like the blonde haired gentlemen can hear what is said as he turns his attention to the announce table and flips Hood the bird. Ryan Smith stops kicking everything in sight and focuses on the blonde man with tight jeans. The man walks right up to him and sends him to his ass with an uppercut from hell, Ryan Smith rolls around on his back crying like a girl. The man stands over him shit talking him as he proceeds to stomp his cowboy boots into his face, blood spurts out from Smith’s face as he relentlessly stomps the heel into what’s left of his face. As Smith falls into unconsciousness the man is ripped away from him by OCW security, President Dean must not pay his security well because the man easily escapes their grasp and slides up into the ring summoning a microphone~
The Man: Jails, Institutions, or Death. That’s where you’ll end up if you’re a bad ass like me.
Smith: ???
Hood: This fucking guy is nuts!
Smith: Isn’t that an AA slogan?
Hood: Fuck if I should know, AA is for quitters!
The Man: If I wanted Ryan “Got his ass Kicked” Smith dead, I would of killed him right there in front of all y’all with these size 10s American rag dawns. Do you fucking understand what I’m tryina say?!
~The crowd looks at him dumbfounded like they have no clue what he’s trying to say~
The Man: I ain’t no damn wrassler. I’m a stunt driver but it just so happens I like to beat that ass. I’ve been in more damn fights than I remember. Fuck all mighty I don’t even remember what day it is or how I ended up in Brazil but alls well that ends the same because I’m hitchin’ a ride back to Murrica with y’all because I just signed a deal with President Dean and OCW. You’re probably wonderin’ who I is. Well that’s fine and dandy ‘cause it’s simple. I’m the Pride of Tennessee. I’m Mason Dixon. Remember the name ‘a’cause you’ll be rememberin’ the ass kickin’ if you ever run across my fury. Over and out.
~Mason Dixon drops the microphone, climbs up onto the top rope and jumps down, digging his heels into Ryan Smith’s face one more again as the scene fades back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: ????
Hood: What in the fuck was that?
Smith: I don’t…
Hood: I don’t know either, but I fuckin’ love him!
Smith: We sure seem to be employing a ton of seriously southern people. Like really southern.
Hood: What’s fucking wrong with that?
Smith: Nothing, I guess...good news is Ryan Smith has been removed from the ring.
Hood: That quickly?
Smith: Yea, some giant, angry bouncer just tossed him over the cliff.
Hood: Fuck, how did I miss that?
Smith: I don’t know. Were you staring at the man in the tight jeans?
Hood: I MOST CERTAINLY WAS FUCKING NOT
Smith: Just kidding old friend!
Hood: We’re not friends
Smith: Whatever...well, the night is young, we’ve only just begun yet the action has been hot and heavy. Grenier and Vargas are both headed towards the main event and President Dean has been attacked by a very angry, belligerent Ian Bishop.
Hood: In other words, greatest start to a Pay Per View ever.
Smith: Debatable, at the very least. Well, folks, it’s time we get the festivities within The Cube officially underway...I know you guys are anxious to break in The Cube, so let’s not keep you waiting. This match we’ve got scheduled is sure to be a thriller.
Hood: Oh sweet, OCW Championship time!
Smith: No you idiot, that’s the main event...I’m talking about the Tag Team Title Match...a Climb the Rope Contest inside...THE CUBE.
Hood: Oh, well, it may not be steak, but I can dig some slim jim beef jerky.
Smith: Whatever...folks, a ton of controversy has surrounded this match starting with Awe.Some...one of the most exciting, promising teams to join OCW since Perfectly Marvelous taking the company by storm...then, things started to get uneasy as ItsuPuma vanished from sight.
Hood: Well, what do you expect when half of your team is a comic book character...all somebody has to do is find a huge ass eraser.
Smith: Indeed...and, as if that weren’t enough, The Lockwood Party emerged from whatever cave they’ve been calling home and destroyed OCWHQ, demanding to be included in this match.
Hood: Yea and Dean, proving to be Hitler, denied them their request.
Smith: Umm, no, Dean is merely maintaining order. I have been assured that OCW and President Dean have made it virtually impossible for The Lockwood Party to storm the ring here in Brazil. So, fans, fear not...we are going to have a legitimate match without any Lockwood shenanigans.
Hood: Ugh
~Suddenly, the fans react as a group of Lockwood partiers rush through the crowd. They are instantly subdued by OCW security who use Pepper spray and heavy flash lights to pound them into submission. The Lockwood fans are quickly hauled away to a Brazilian jail somewhere...presumably in Brazil~
Smith: See? Not going to happen
Hood: Bleh...well, I guess get the masked freak and his cartoon buddy out here.
Smith: Indeed! Let’s get down to ringside!
Climb The Rope
Awe.Some (0 pts) vs. ItsuPuma (0 pts)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to introduce THE CUBE!
~The crowd goes wild, beyond ready for the in cube action to begin~
Belvedere: Our first contest within the Cube is the Climb a Rope match and it is for the OCW Tag Team Titles! In order to win, a team must climb the rope, obtain both belts and return inside the ring with the titles in their possession. The winning team will then be crowned the new OCW Tag Champs and will be given the opportunity to rename the belts.
~”You’re Not Here” by Akira Yamaoka begins to play as the fans stand and watch, in semi silence as Itsumade and Black Puma appear from behind the partition set up several feet from the cliff’s edge. They walk across the plexiglass covered ramp way, towards The Cube. Both men enter The Cube~
Belvedere: Introducing first, at a total combined weight of 450lbs...ItsuPuma!!!
~The opening guitar rift of "Kickstart My Heart" roars through the outdoor area as the fans get to their feet. The lights surrounding the partition set pan slowly towards the entrance way where Rachel Valdez comes walking onto the set with a microphone in her hand. She'll pose for a second or two before speaking into her microphone~
Rachel Valdez: "This is Awe.Some!"
~At that point with the song kicking into gear, Ricky and Randy Valdez both run through the curtain and straight to the ring, slapping the hands of fans along the way. Rachel Valdez follows closely behind. The three of them all slide under the bottom rope. Ricky and Randy proceed to climb the turnbuckles on opposite sides of the ring. The brothers point to various sections of the crowd to get them excited while Rachel Valdez leans over the top rope to blow a kiss to the fans at ringside~
Belvedere: And their opponents, from Reynosa, Mexico by way of McAllen, Texas...at a total combined weight of 412lbs...Awe.Some!!!
~Both Valdez brothers reach out, placing their hands against the Cube. They press against it, finding the sturdiness to be as expected. Belvedere, showing his gentlemanly side, escorts Rachel from The Cube. As Rachel is leaving, she slides a bag into the Valdez’ corner; its contents cannot be seen. Rachel and Belvedere travel down the walk way and back onto the edge of the cliff where she takes a seat near the announce table to watch her brothers OCW debut. The Cube is shut...the top square is raised via a crane situated on the cliff. On top of the square are both belts, neatly placed side by side. A rope hangs from the square, the bottom resting about three feet from the canvas. The bell sounds as the crowd rises to their feet in excitement~
Smith: Here we go! This is a match I’ve been looking forward to all month long!
Hood: You think they can climb a rope?
Smith: Umm, I’d certainly hope so
Hood: I mean, climbing a rope isn’t exactly easy...trust me, I’ve tried.
Smith: Yes and there’s a reason why you’re not a professional athlete.
Hood: Fuck off
~The Valdez brothers hop off the turnbuckles and find themselves standing in the ring. ItsuPuma are in the middle of the ring, staring Awe.Some down. Ricky and Randy step up as Itsumade and Black Puma extend their hands. Ricky and Randy shrug and accept as both teams show a nice sign of sportsmanship~
Smith: Now that’s what I’m talking about!
Hood: I seriously hope The Cube spontaneously collapses and kills everyone in that ring...even Scruff.
~Seconds after the handshake, both teams are immersed in an all out brawl. They trade punches back and forth. Randy and Itsumade are brawling while Ricky and Puma trade blows. Puma has the advantage on Ricky, due to his size, backing him into a corner. Puma goes for a big clothesline, but Ricky ducks and Puma’s arm slams into the top turnbuckles. He grabs it in pain and turns around, as he does he is nailed in the head with an enziguri! Puma falls back into the corner, slouched with his arms hanging across the middle ropes. Meanwhile, Randy has Itsumade backed up and is lifting a few knees into his midsection. He goes to whip Itsumade out of the corner, but Itsumade reverses, slinging Randy towards Ricky. Ricky turns around and he grabs Randy’s arm spinning him around and firing him back at Itsumade...Randy flies through the air and he lands right on top of Itsumade with a Stinger Splash!! Itsumade, like Puma, slumps down in his corner as the crowd goes wild chanting “Awe.Some!”~
Smith: Great teamwork by Awe.Some...hard for any team to experience the kind of chemistry that is shared by brothers!
Hood: I’m really torn here, Smith
Smith: Too much fast paced action...is your head on a swivel?
Hood: No, I can’t figure out who to root for, so I guess I’m just going to play Trivia Crack on my phone.
Smith: NO YOU WILL NOT!
~Smith snatches Hood’s phone and he tosses it to Rachel. Rachel hurls it over the cliff, as punishment for Hood’s unprofessional behavior. Back in the ring, Ricky and Randy switch positions and, simultaneously, they charge at Puma and Itsumade. Ricky nails Itsumade with a running knee while Randy delivers the same to Puma! Both members of ItsuPuma slump all the way to the mat. Ricky and Randy quickly yank ItsuPuma to their feet and they hurl them over the top rope, on opposite sides of the ring...Puma lands on the harsh metal awning, in between the ring and The Cube while Itsumade’s body SLAMS into the side of The Cube, falling roughly onto the apron...Ricky and Randy then motion for the crowd to get on their feet, they oblige, standing up and cheering loudly with ‘Awe.Some’ chants sprinkled in. Ricky heads for the bag Rachel left in the ring~
Smith: Uh oh, what could this be???
Hood: Their dark, underworld collection of porno?
Smith: I certainly hope not! Especially considering their sister left it for them
Hood: Hey man, different rules when you’re dealing with Mexicans
Smith: Eeeeasssssy there, chief
Hood: I am not Native American!
~Ricky struggles with the bag at first, as Randy steps in, offering help. Ricky pushes his hand away, finally untying the knot and reaching inside. He unearths a container of ‘~’ OCW hair gel! The crowd tries to chant ‘~’ but they really don’t know how to even begin, so they just cheer and toss soccer and volleyballs around like a bunch of crazy Brazilians. Ricky grabs a giant glob and he runs it through his hair, handing it over to Randy. Randy looks at the suspect substance and utters something about ‘concrete’...he looks over at Rachel who does a scooping motion with her hand. With an exaggerated sigh, Randy grabs a giant glob of gel, running it through his hair as well. Both men are left with a ‘Something like Mary’ hairstyle as a result. Rachel stands up and grabs an announcing headset~
Rachel Valdez: OCW Hair gel, available for purchase at a local beauty salon near you...and, if it isn’t, you can purchase it online via the OCW website. Squiggly Line gel...the gel for you!
Smith: Umm, thanks for that mid match impromptu sales pitch, Rachel
Hood: That stuff looks like something Oliver Twist would be forced to eat inside his stupid ass orphanage.
Smith: Whoa
Hood: What?
Smith: I can’t believe you just cited a Charles Dickens novel.
Rachel Valdez: OCW hair gel, it will surprise the dickens out of whoever you’re trying to impress!
Smith: Nice segue
Rachel Valdez: Thanks for the air time guys!
~Rachel puts her headset down and reclaims her seat~
Hood: Umm, not like we actually offered or anything, but whatever
~Ricky and Randy begin flicking their hands at the mat, finding the excess gel more than a bit difficult to remove. They finally walk up to the ropes and aggressively slide their palms against the top rope, removing the remaining portions of gel from their hand and sticking it to the ropes. Looking at one another, the Valdez brothers are happy over a job well done. The crowd suddenly grows anxious as, behind them, Black Puma and Itsumade have re-entered the ring. The Valdez brothers turn around and Randy is nailed with a picture perfect standing drop kick from Itsumade while Ricky is drilled into the mat with a spinebuster~
Smith: You can’t take your opponents for granted in OCW...even if they were in the witness protection program for an entire month.
Hood: Who knows, man, maybe that safe house they were placed in had a giant gym with a wrestling ring.
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: But not impossible
Smith: *sigh* No, not impossible
~Puma peels Ricky from the mat and quickly lifts him over his head. He walks towards the ropes and deposits Ricky over the top rope where he lands roughly on the metal awning, wedged between the ring and The Cube. Itsumade, meanwhile, is working Randy over in a corner with various leg kicks to the legs, midsection and head, displaying tremendous flexibility. Puma stands in the middle of the ring, yelling at Itsumade. Itsumade whips Randy out of the corner where Puma greets him with a big boot into the face!! Randy falls to the mat and writhes around in pain~
Smith: How quickly the tide can turn...Awe.Some was in total control and now ItsuPuma has Randy isolated in the middle of the ring, nearly incapacitated.
Hood: Not a very profitable marketing strategy for ‘~’
Smith: Indeed
~Puma pulls Randy to his feet and quickly kicks Randy in the gut. Randy doubles over as Puma hooks his head and lifts him up for a Vertical Suplex...he holds Randy in the air as the fans begin to count in some weird Brazilian language...Puma finally drops Randy on his head with a Jackhammer!! Puma pops to his feet and spots Ricky reaching up and grasping the bottom rope. He yells at Itsumade who responds by performing a baseball slide under the bottom rope, kicking Randy in the face, causing the back of his head to slam into the Cube~
Smith: ItsuPuma has effectively separated Ricky and Randy from one another...isolation may be the key to their success.
Hood: I don’t know where the fuck cartoon man and masked freak guy have been all month, but they’ve apparently been in some secret, underground fight club honing their skills.
Smith: Ooohhh, do you think Brad was there?
Hood: Brad who? Brad Johnson?
Smith: No, Brad Pitt you silly goose!
Hood: Fucking shit, man, no wonder Alice moved in with you...she knows you won’t lay a finger on her.
Smith: I AM HAPPILY MARRIED...thankuverymuch
~Itsumade steps through the ropes and stands on the apron, looking down at Ricky, ready to stomp on him the minute he starts to stir. Back inside the ring, Puma has Randy on his feet and is repeatedly slamming his face into the top turnbuckle. The fans begin booing, clearly siding with Awe.Some. After nearly a dozen face slams, Puma, with a hand full of gelatinous hair, takes a breather. Randy suddenly responds by thrusting his elbow back, drilling Puma in the face!! Puma staggers back into the middle of the ring as Randy rests his face on the turnbuckles, gathering himself. He quickly hops on the second rope and leaps off, with a reverse cross body...but he is caught by Puma!! Puma quickly hoists Randy over his shoulder and drills him into the mat with a Powerslam!! The fans boo as Puma gets to one knee and continues catching his breath~
Smith: Aww man! Randy Valdez almost squared up with Puma...but no such luck...
Hood: Fuck, that bitch is sucking wind...he must have spent all his time popping roids instead of working on cardio.
Smith: He is big
Hood: Yea, maybe a little TOO big
~Puma turns and says something to Itsumade. Itsumade nods as they quickly switch places. Itsumade stands back, waiting for Randy to get to his feet. Randy does and Itsumade spins around with a back kick to the chin of Randy!! Randy crumbles to the mat. Itsumade then eyes the rope as Puma throws a stiff boot into the face of Ricky, knocking him back down to the metal awning~
Smith: Ah, this makes sense...Itsumade is going to attempt the climb
Hood: Smart move, Black Puma may have a stroke or go into cardiac arrest halfway up...assuming he could get that high.
Smith: Indeed!
~Itsumade leaps up, getting a head start on the rope. He clutches the thick rope with his hands, as it sways back and forth. Holding on, he does his best to bring the rope to a stationary position before climbing. He seems a bit uneasy, looking around and down at the canvas. Randy suddenly kicks up to his feet and looks at Itsumade...he jumps up and drills Itsumade in the kidney with a Superman Punch!!! One of Itsumade’s hands loses its grip. Randy positions himself underneath Itsumade, grabbing his legs and he rips him from the rope with a powerbomb!!! Itsumade hits hard as Randy jumps up on the rope, climbing quite a bit higher than Itsumade was able to reach. He begins to move his body back and forth, swinging the rope. The crowd goes “oooohhhh” each time it sways...increasing in volume as the sways increase in distance. He turns his head, looking at the back of Puma, who is unaware of what’s going on. Finally, with enough leverage, Randy leaps off...he flies at Puma, hooking the back of Puma’s head under his arm and slamming him face first into The Cube with a Bulldog!!! Randy’s legs are violently crammed into the Cube as he drops against the metal awning roughly, holding both knees in pain. The crowd cheers wildly for the innovative move~
Smith: What a move!! Black Puma may need a nose job after that!
Hood: Do superheroes get nose jobs?
Smith: I don’t know
Hood: Do you think there’s a super hero whose cover is a plastic surgeon, secretly performing plastic surgery on other superheroes?
Smith: I have no earthly idea
Hood: It would certainly explain how Bruce Wayne appeared younger and better looking in between Batman Returns and Batman Forever.
Smith: That comment does not justify a response
~Ricky crawls over Puma who is basically lying face down, ass up with his face crammed into the metal awning. He attends to Randy who waves him away, telling him to get into the ring. Ricky slides into the ring and finds Itsumade on all fours. He runs into the ring, springboards off the middle rope and performs a Lionsault, landing on the back of Itsumade, slamming him front first into the mat! Ricky hops back to his feet and rushes into the nearest corner...he ascends to the top and looks down at Itsumade, who remains face down...he leaps off and drops a Guillotine leg drop across the back of Itsumade’s head as the fans go crazy with several ‘Ricky’ chants being emitted. Ricky then looks at the rope and points up at the titles high above, the crowd responds positively~
Smith: Lightning quick offense by Ricky Valdez...this kid can go!
Hood: I have to tell you, while I’m not a fan...Awe.Some certainly has proven to be pretty okay.
Smith: Pretty okay? I’d say they’ve far exceeded ‘pretty okay’!
Hood: Well, I’m sorry if I don’t give out compliments like middle schools give out condoms.
Smith: Yikes
~Finding himself standing in the ring with nothing in his way, Ricky looks at the rope and reaches up, grasping it with his hands. He finds it uncomfortably coarse...that’s when an idea hits him. He runs his fingers through his crazy glue gelled hair, finding a good amount of the gel still moist. He looks in his hands, our camera zooms in, seeing them lathered up. He jumps up and grips the ropes with his hands, they stick fiercely. He looks around and smiles as the crowd cheers and laughs. Ricky begins to climb with his legs hanging free...almost as though he had magnets on his hands and he were scaling a giant refrigerator. Itsumade rolls over and looks up, spotting Ricky dangerously high. He crawls for the ropes and uses them to pull himself up. Rushing over, he grabs the rope and begins to shake it. Ricky appears concerned as one of his hands falls away...he then hangs from the rope with his other hand apparently glued to the rope~
Smith: What is in that gel???
Hood: Crazy glue, apparently
Smith: My goodness, OCW needs to increase their level of quality control before releasing something like that.
Hood: I don’t know, I mean it’s probably really effective...you can bet your ass the hair won’t move a fucking inch once you apply that shit.
Smith: But the follicles, the scalp...the damage...it’s horrendous just thinking about it!
Hood: I’m sorry, but I don’t think that much about hair
~Itsumade hops onto the rope and begins to climb it himself, looking far more efficient than before. He reaches Ricky’s height as they are a few feet from the top of The Cube. Itsumade has his legs wrapped tightly around the rope before removing his hand and using it to try and rip Ricky’s hand away. Ricky just watches him at first, knowing it’s going to take an impressive feat of strength to get the job done. Itsumade finally gives up, breathing heavily...Ricky takes the opportunity to use his free hand and poke a thumb into Itsumade’s eye! Itsumade loses his grip and falls all the way to the mat, landing with a sickening thud! The crowd cheers again...Ricky looks at the top of the Cube and decides to continue climbing...the only problem is he can’t remove his hand either~
Smith: And Ricky Valdez is stuck
Hood: Wow, how long did it take you to think that line up?
Smith: Just came off the top of my head, actually
Hood: Well aren’t you special
~Randy re-enters the ring and he looks up at Ricky yelling “What are you doing?!” Ricky points at his hand which has adhered itself to the rope...Randy utters something under his breath before grabbing the rope with his right hand and testing it. As he does, Puma crawls into the ring and staggers side to side. Randy hears the heavy footed steps, so he turns around and drills Puma with a forearm uppercut. This turns Puma around, where his back is facing Randy...Randy grabs Puma’s head, bends him backwards and drops him to the mat with an Inverted DDT!! Popping back to his feet, Randy begins to climb the rope~
Smith: Here we go, finally, a Valdez brother without sticky hands
Hood: What are you insinuating, Smith
Smith: Would you kindly remove your mind from the gutter?
Hood: Since you asked ‘kindly’, no
~Itsumade stirs, rolling over and crawling for the rope. Reaching up, he grabs the bottom and pulls himself up. Randy looks down, feeling the rope moving...Itsumade reaches his feet and he grabs the heel of Randy. Randy kicks Itsumade away...Itsumade staggers back, Randy leaps off, wraps his legs around Itsumade’s head and tosses him into the ropes and against The Cube with a Huricanrana!! Itsumade is left lying between the ropes and The Cube as Randy walks over and yells, “Stay Down!”~
Smith: Awe.Some is so close to winning this match...they just have to figure out a way to keep ItsuPuma from constantly ceasing their climbs.
Hood: Well, maybe they should do more Bulldogs into the Plexiglass cell instead of gay ass huricanranas.
Smith: That was a highly effective move!
Hood: I’m just saying, climbing a rope isn’t exactly like walking up the ring steps...it takes time.
Smith: I guess it would help if Ricky weren’t glued near the top.
Hood: Fucking guy’s arm has to be sore, right?
Smith: Indeed
~Turning his attention back to the rope, Randy grips it with both hands and begins the climb. Ricky, hanging by his gelled hand, offers his free hand for a boost...Randy grabs it as Ricky yanks him to eye level. Back on the mat, Puma is back to his feet staggering around...he hears the crowd cheering for Awe.Some. Looking up, he notices Randy with two free hands, nearing the top of The Cube. Puma realizes he won’t make it up the rope in time, so he drags Itsumade into the middle of the ring and works on reviving him. While doing so, Randy continues climbing, reaching the top of the Cube. His right arm extends with his palm gripping the edge of the square hole. His left hand and legs remain attached to the rope...Ricky yells out “Don’t look down!” as Randy seems to be in a tenuous position. Randy looks down and rolls his eyes, “I shouldn’t have looked down!”~
Smith: They are pretty high up there...if Randy loses his grip, it’s a long fall to the mat...one that I don’t think he could recover from.
Hood: The stakes are high, as they should be...especially if you get to name a fucking title.
Smith: Any favorites?
Hood: Anything but Twinsies...I was thinking maybe Double Team
Smith: How is that any different than Tag Team?
Hood: It’s slightly different
Smith: You never get to name titles...EVER
~With a deep breath, Randy releases his left hand and clutches the top of the Cube by the square hole. His legs dangle as he’s hanging from the top. The fans hold their breath as Randy seems to be close to falling. Finally, he’s able to steady his lower body and starts to pull himself up to a sturdy Brazilian ovation. Meanwhile, Itsumade is on his feet as Puma points at the top of The Cube. Itsumade sees what must be done and he begins to climb the rope~
Smith: Randy is at the top of The Cube...mission 1, accomplished
Hood: So, is it over?
Smith: Do you listen to anything myself or Belvedere ever say? He has to obtain the titles and bring them back to the center of the ring!
Hood: Soooo...it’s not over?
Smith: Ugh
~Itsumade shows a tremendous amount of agility and upper body strength as he efficiently scales the rope, reaching Ricky Ricky kicks his legs around, trying to clip Itsumade, but Itsumade climbs past him and reaches the top of The Cube. Randy is now standing at the top of the Cube...he takes the time to walk to the edge and look down...it’s a long way down. Turning around, he spots the squared platform raised a few feet above the square hole. The titles are nestled invitingly atop the plexiglass square. Itsumade senses urgency, he steps on Ricky’s head and uses it to propel himself through the square and on top of The Cube. Randy rushes over and he grabs Itsumade by the hair, yanking him to his feet. Itsumade chops Randy’s arms away and delivers a vicious knife edged chop to his chest. Randy fires back with a stiff kick to the thigh of Itsumade. They quickly lock up as the fans watch from below, anxiously~
Smith: You knew this was inevitable...they are fighting ON TOP OF THE CUBE
Hood: Hell yea, things just got interesting
Smith: What happens if one of them goes over?
Hood: I’m no expert, but I’d say the other team would probably win the match
Smith: Indeed!
~Randy gains a strength advantage as Itsumade tries to lift a knee, Randy blocks it and he head butts Itsumade!! Itsumade is stunned, causing Randy to extend his arms before hopping behind him, crossing the arms of Itsumade around his throat. Randy then jumps in the air and drops Itsumade with a backstabber while his arms are crossed around his throat!! Randy’s back slams into The Cube as Itsumade’s body springs into the air before landing front first, lying on top of The Cube unconscious! Randy hops to his feet with a huge ovation~
Smith: What was that?!
Hood: The fuck if I know, you’re the move expert
Smith: No, what was that!
Hood: I DON’T KNOW
Smith: You’re not understanding me...we just witnessed...what was that?!
Hood: Okay, fine, a cross armed back breaker?
Smith: Ugh, nevermind
~Randy is staring down a clear path way for the titles. He smiles an overconfident smile before walking with a bit of exaggeration towards the belts. Ricky hangs from the ropes cheering him on while Puma tries to climb, but can’t really get past the first few inches~
Smith: It’s all over now
Hood: Certainly appears that way...while I’m no fan of a team that puts a random period in between a typically cool word...I will say they earned it.
Smith: Indeed!
~Suddenly, the sound of a propeller in the air emerges. It grows louder and louder as everyone turns towards the noise. Randy, standing near the titles atop the square platform, turns and looks and he spots a helicopter heading his way. He leans back with his elbows propped on the platform, more curious than concerned. The helicopter reaches the Cube and hangs in midair, remaining stationary~
Smith: Umm, excuse us, but this is a no fly zone!
Hood: Says who?
Smith: Common sense
Hood: Never was a fan of that guy
~The side door suddenly slides open and we spot Tom Lockwood hanging out, one hand gripping a handle to keep from falling and the other holding a bat. A cigarette is hanging from the side of his mouth as he looks down at The Cube. Randy looks up and instantly stands upright, preparing for what might come. A rope is dropped from the chopper as Tom Lockwood quickly slides down it, landing on top of The Cube. Randy rushes Tom, with forearms to his head. Tom drills Randy in the gut with the barrel of his bat! Randy doubles over as Jack Lockwood suddenly emerges from the chopper, sliding down the rope and landing on top of the The Cube. Jack lifts Randy up into a Fireman’s Carry and drops him on top of The Cube with a Fireman’s Carry Facebuster (Complete Control)!!! Randy is laid out as Tom heads of to Itsumade and begins beating him with his wooden bat~
Smith: No!!! The Lockwoods have arrived and are RUINING this match!
Hood: I disagree, this match suddenly reached a whole new level of interest...and, how about that security?
Smith: I can’t believe these guys could afford a helicopter
Hood: You can make a shit load of money selling meth, haven’t you ever seen Breaking Bad?
Smith: Sorry, but I don’t watch filthy shows about DRUGS
~Jack walks over next to his brother Tom...he gets him to stop beating in Itsumade. Jack then pulls Itsumade to his feet by the hair and hurls him through the square hole at the top of The Cube. Itsumade falls all the way to the ring with his head colliding with Black Puma’s head! It makes a sickening sound similar to two bowling balls ramming into one another...both Puma and Itsumade collapse to the ground without exhibiting any signs of life. Jack looks up at the helicopter as Aimee appears and tosses him a metal container of fluid. We zoom in and see ‘Acetone’ on the side in big, black letters~
Smith: Acetone?
Hood: Looks like he may have accidentally brought some of his meth ingredients with him
Smith: What? Do you think he’s going to cook METH on top of THE CUBE?
Hood: That would be awesome...talk about an OCW first
Smith: And highly illegal
Hood: I don’t know, this is Brazil...I mean, aren’t we in like a fourth world country?
Smith: Not sure such a thing exists
~Jack unscrews the cap and he pours a steady stream of Acetone down the rope where it eats away at the adhesive keeping Ricky attached to the rope. Ricky begins to wiggle, feeling his hand coming free. He tries to wrap his legs around the rope, but some Acetone hits him in the face. He turns his head to keep any from getting into his eyes, as he does, his hand breaks free and Ricky falls all the way to the mat, landing on his back roughly. Rachel gets up from her chair and she sprints down the aisle way, to the front of the Cube, beating on the door~
Smith: Oh my gosh! He could have broken his neck!
Hood: Yea man, that fall was kinda rough
Smith: Can someone let Rachel in there? We have three severely injured wrestlers and one incapacitated individual at the top of The Cube that...oh no, you don’t think?
Hood: I do think...I think, if we’re lucky, they’ll throw his ass off The Cube, down the cliff!
Smith: Good Heavens!!
~Laughing, Jack haphazardly tosses the Acetone off The Cube and down, into the water below. Tom reaches onto the square platform and he obtains the Tag Titles. He hands one to Jack as they approach the edge of The Cube. Walking by Randy, Tom stomps on the back of his head roughly, keeping him down~
Smith: And now they are polluting the waters here in Brazil!
Hood: I’m pretty sure that’s how those super piranhas were created in that bitchin ass flick, Piranha 3D!
Smith: Acetone?
Hood: Absolutely
Smith: While I’m pretty sure there is hardcore scientific evidence proving that to be false...I’m more concerned over the fate of the Tag Titles.
Hood: Ohhh yea, that is interesting as well
~Jack and Tom look at one another...they hold up their hands with three fingers. They count down ‘3, 2..” as they are counting, OCW officials get The Cube open as Rachel slides in and begins tending to Ricky. A few OCW officials attempt climbing the rope, to apprehend The Lockwoods. It’s too late as Jack and Tom yell ‘3!’ in unison before tossing the Tag Titles off The Cube and into the water below...they fall all the way down, splashing into the murky waters, sinking to the bottom~
Smith: No! No!! The Tag Titles...they are gone!!
Hood: And the Danger Boiz wept
Smith: Would you be serious for a moment? This is a horrible act...atrocious behavior, these two need to be held accountable for their actions.
Hood: Well, you can thank Ian the Bishop for that not happening.
Smith: Darn him! Darn him to heck!
~The Lockwoods notice more OCW officials filling the ring, attempting to climb the rope. They realize they are running out of time, so they quickly climb the rope back into the helicopter. Once inside, Jack flings the door shut as the chopper flies away with OCW officials and Rachel Valdez staring up into the sky, helpless. The Brazilian fans are pelting the Cube with trash, angered over what has taken place~
Smith: This crowd is incensed!
Hood: Well, a family named Valdez just got screwed...how do you think these Brazilians were going to react?
Smith: Two totally different nationalities, Hood
Hood: Close enough, if you ask me
Smith: Folks, this is out of control...we’ll have an update for you later, but, in the meantime, we’re going to have to take you backstage while we get things sorted out...unbelievable, what a mockery the Lockwoods have made of Revenge.
Hood: Tomato, potato...speaking of, I’m going to get some fries.
Smith: Alright, while my ADD stricken colleague hunts down some life shortening nourishment, let’s cut backstage where one of our newest OCW employees is standing by with Tatum Coe!
~We cut to the back where a blonde, beautiful woman in a super tight, revealing white and gold striped dress. Coe is standing next to her, rubbing his chin, looking her up and down~
Who’Re: Hello, my name is Who’Re and standing next to me is former OCW LightWeight Champion and, potential future Paradigm Champion, Tatum Coe. Tatum, what do you have to do tonight to defeat OCW Hall of Famer Alice Knight?
Tatum Coe: Well, first of all, Whore, it’s nice to see OCW has wised up and started hiring decent looking people.
Who’Re: It’s pronounced Ho-Ray.
Tatum Coe: Right...as far as my chances tonight, well let’s just say five minutes into the match you’ll all see what I’ve known to be true since I re-signed with OCW...Tatum Coe is deserving of the Hall of Fame, Alice Knight is not.
~A shoulder suddenly comes into view, bumping into Coe. Coe staggers back before shoving the person who ran into him away. The person turns around as the camera pans back, showing Dangerous Dan!! The crowd goes wild when they see Dan on their screen~
Tatum Coe: Watch where you’re going, freak.
~Dan gets in Coe’s face as Coe refuses to back down. The two engage in an intense stare down before Coe grabs Who’Re’s hand and pulls the mic to his mouth~
Tatum Coe: If you didn’t get too much of that goofy paint in your eyes, I’d encourage you to sit back and enjoy what’s about to come.
~Coe slings Who’Re’s arm away and makes an un-mic’d comment before walking off~
Tatum Coe: By the way, a brown and blue dress? Are you fucking kidding me...you really are a whore.
~Coe exits the scene as Who’Re looks her dress over, confused. She remembers Dan is there and raises the mic to his face, as he has a few words~
Dangerous Dan: Oh, I’ll be watching...because, I’ve got next.
~The crowd explodes with a tremendous ovation upon hearing Dan’s proclamation. He’s about to leave, when something comes to mind~
Dangerous Dan: Don’t listen to him, Ho-Ray...you’re black and blue dress looks just fine.
~Dan exits as Who’Re seems completely confused~
Who’Re: It’s supposed to be white and gold...
~We cut away from Who’Re and back to Smith and Hood. Hood is finishing off his final fry~
Smith: Did Dan just say what I think he said? Is he the #1 Contender for the Paradigm Title?
Hood: I don’t know, I was too busy watching Whore and eating my fries.
Smith: It’s Ho-Ray!
Hood: Please, it’s fucking whore and we all fucking know it.
Smith: Whatever...anyway, The Paradigm Title Match is up next...Alice Knight, a current OCW Hall of Famer returns to the ring to take on Tatum Coe. Tatum Coe was one of the legends during OCW’s infancy and, after all of these years, has returned with one goal in his sights...to enter into the OCW Hall of Fame.
Hood: Yea, well Dean basically just started letting people into the Hall for accomplishing shit like showing up to matches, having neat theme music and wearing colorful ring attire...so, it’s no surprise Coe would see a golden opportunity to get in.
Smith: Every member in that Hall deserves to be there...but, alas, this is an argument I will not wage with you...instead, let’s kick it to The Cube for the inaugural Paradigm Championship Match!
Reverse Finisher Match
Alice Knight (0pts) vs. Tatum Coe (0pts)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the OCW Paradigm Championship Match!! This match will be conducted under Reverse Finisher Rules.
~”Electrified" by Dressy Bessy begins to play as the fans turn and cheer the fan favorite in OCW, Alice Knight. She makes her way to the ring with a bubbly demeanor. She enters into the ring and kind of skips around for no apparent reason. She rushes the ropes and heads to the middle turnbuckle and waves to the fans through the plexiglass of The Cube as her music fades out~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Bethel, New York...standing 5’8 and weighing in at 125lbs...she is a former TransAtlantic Champion and an OCW Hall of Famer...Alice Knight!!!
~The Brazilian crowd goes wild with many of the guys trying to hop over their plexiglass barriers to, I guess, leap onto the side of the cube. I don’t know, they are really stupid if they think they can pull that off. Whatever the case, they are crazy for Alice Knight. Alice takes a moment to look downward, at what lies underneath the ring and acts like she’s getting a bit of Vertigo before laughing it off~
Smith: Alice Knight having a bit of fun, nice to see her so calm and relaxed in this wild environment.
Hood: Yea? Is it? Tell that to James Stewart!
Smith: The ex NFL Running Back?
Hood: No, that guy in the Hitchcock movie Vertigo...I doubt HE thinks her bully type antics are funny.
Smith: Oh please, as if you’d ever watch any movie that was made pre-1985.
Hood: Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a huge fan of 70s porn.
~”Tear Away” by Drowning Pool begins to play as the portion of the crowd who remembers Tatum Coe boos him ferociously. Coe emerges from the partition set up nearly fifty yards from the edge of the cliff by flinging the fabric curtains open. Wearing his signature shades, Coe takes a look at the crowd while breathing in the brazilian air. He then holds his nose before strutting his way to the ring~
Belvedere: And her opponent, from Miami Beach, Florida...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 215lbs...he is a former OCW Light Weight Champion and a Two Time Last Man Standing Runner Up...Tatum Coe!!!
~Coe struts down the plexiglass sided walk way before entering into the Cube. Standing at the Cube’s edge, Coe removes his expensive sports coat, setting it just outside of the Cube. He then slides into the ring, under the bottom rope before popping up to his knees and removing his sunglasses~
Smith: Coe thinks he’s pretty cool, doesn’t he.
Hood: He’s pretty spry for an old guy.
Smith: He’s not that old, is he?
Hood: While I don’t have his fucking birth certificate or anything, I’ll take a stab and say he’s somewhere between thirty-five and sixty.
Smith: Nice window there
~The bell sounds as Coe leans back in his corner with both elbows propped on the top rope. He tosses a wink in Alice’s direction. She smiles and steps forward, extending her hand. Coe pushes off his elbows to an upright position and reaches out to grab her hand. Alice jerks it away and runs it through the side of her hair, laughing. Coe’s face reddens with anger. Alice turns around, continuing to laugh as Coe hurls his designer shades in her face! They smack Alice right in the forehead, shattering. Alice staggers into her corner as the bell sounds~
Smith: And our prestigious Paradigm division gets kicked off with weaponry!
Hood: Fucking shit, man, if you think sunglasses are a weapon you might as well call Curling or something...it’d be safer for your health.
Smith: DO NOT BESMIRCH THE GOOD NAME OF CURLING
Hood: Oh I will BESMIRCH curling all night long!
~Displaying a truly vicious side, Coe sprints in and delivers a huge knee into Alice’s gut! She shrinks to a seated position in the corner as Coe steps back, lining her up. He charges in and sticks his foot out, drilling Alice in the face!!! Alice’s body is now hanging half in and half out of the ring. The fans boo as Coe takes his time in returning the favor by laughing at Alice who seems to already be unconscious despite the early portion of the match~
Smith: Rough start for the fan favorite...now, fans, if you’ll recall...this Cube is slightly larger than the ring...therefore, on certain sides, there is enough room for a competitor to fall in between the Cube and the ring.
Hood: Shoddy workmanship by Dean yet again.
Smith: You act like he built the thing himself
Hood: How do you know he didn’t, Smith? HOW DO YOU KNOW??
Smith: I...I don’t
Hood: Exactly
~Coe grabs Alice’s legs and he yanks her back into the ring. He hooks both her legs under his arms before leaning back and sling-shotting Alice across the ring, over the ropes and face first into The Cube!! Her face SMACKS into the Plexiglass as she staggers back into the middle of the ring. Coe nips back to his feet and delivers a swift kick to the back of Alice’s head as she falls face first onto the mat. Coe holds his arms out and takes a bow as the fans boo loudly~
Smith: And Alice continues to take a beating.
Hood: Hey, isn’t that your roommate?
Smith: Uhm...yes...
Hood: Then why are you referring to her like she’s some stranger?
Smith: I HAVE MY REASONS...okay?
Hood: Did she turn your sexual advances down, bro? Don’t worry, you can tell me...it’s just the two of us...and everyone else listening.
Smith: I’m a happily married man, thank you very much
Hood: That’s not a no
~Coe grabs Alice by the hair and hooks her for a full nelson...he lifts Alice up and drills her into the mat as hard as he can with a Full Nelson Slam!! The ring shakes from impact as Coe goes for a pin. Scruff looks at him like he’s retarded. Coe reaches out and slaps the mat with his right hand twice before yanking Alice’s head up with his left hand. The crowd boos as Coe laughs. He slams Alice’s head back onto the mat and repeats the process, slapping the mat with his hand twice before yanking Alice’s head up again. More boos reign down as Coe laughs even harder. He does it one more time, slapping the mat with his hand twice before lifting Alice’s head up before the three count. This time, though, Alice opens her mouth and bites Coe right on the nose!! Coe starts to wiggle wildly as the crowd erupts in cheers. Scruff just kind of watches~
Smith: Alice Knight doing what she can to turn the tide!
Hood: Who forgot to feed her before the match?
Smith: Don’t look at me
Hood: Well, you are her roommate.
Smith: I am not in charge of feeding a grown woman!
~Coe finally rips his face away from Alice’s vice grip. He crab walks into a corner with his face covered. He looks down into his hand and finds a pool of blood as her bite ripped his nose open. Coe shows the blood to Scruff as he yells out “That fucking bitch bit me!” Scruff just kind of shrugs. Alice does a back roll onto her knees before getting to her feet and pumping her fist in the air. The crowd rises and continues to cheer. She runs at Coe, who is still lying in the corner. Coe lifts his leg up, Alice catches it and kicks Coe right in the groin!!! Coe grabs his crotch as he rolls in between the bottom rope and The Cube, curled up in the fetal position~
Smith: Do whatever you can, I guess.
Hood: Fuck, biting and kicking in the dick...is that really what the Paradigm Title is going to be all about?
Smith: You never know what you’re going to get with Alice Knight
Hood: How do you live with this woman?
Smith: Lots of Tylenol PMs
Hood: Wait, are you saying you slip them into her drink...you fucking PERV
Smith: NO! I’m simply saying I stay heavily sedated while at home.
~Alice delivers a few swift kicks into Coe’s back as his forehead slams into the Cube following each blow. Alice then reaches through the middle rope and grabs Coe by the hair, yanking him to his feet. She drags him through the ropes with his feet hanging on the middle rope. Alice then falls back and DDTs Coe into the mat!! Coe’s feet remain on the middle rope with his face lying on the mat. Alice runs into the ropes, bounces off and she does a mid air baseball slide kick out into Coe’s ribs!! Coe’s legs fly off the middle rope as his back slams into the bottom turnbuckle!! The crowd breaks out into “Alice de Knight” chants~
Smith: Alice de Knight is apparently a popular phrase around here.
Hood: Fucking Brazilians
Smith: I think it’s kind of catchy
Hood: That tells me all I need to know
~Alice grabs Coe by his hair again, pulling him to his feet. Coe is staggering, clearly out of it with his nose looking like some kind of ripped apart tomato. Blood is covering his mouth and chin...it’s quite gruesome. Alice delivers a right jab to his chin...Coe wobbles. The crowd chants “Um!” Alice perks up, enjoying the spanish vernacular. She delivers another jab, to which the crowd chants “Dois!” Alice grabs her stomach and chuckles. She delivers another jab, to which the crowd chants “Tres!” Alice holds her index finger up, signaling for them to check something out. She then twirls her hands around each other as the crowd chats “Oooooohhhhhh!!!” Alice then drills Coe in his busted nose with a Bionic Elbow!!! Coe staggers back into a corner, his arms draped over the top rope, the only thing keeping him from falling to the mat. The crowd cheers and applauds Alice’s showmanship as she skips around the ring~
Smith: What a moment!
Hood: Holy fuckballs...that has to be the GAYEST thing I’ve ever seen in an OCW match. Tatum Coe should commit suicide.
Smith: He shouldn’t end his career over that.
Hood: I’m not talking career...I’m talking literal suicide. He should take a gun, put it into his mouth...
Smith: And back to the action!
~Coe blows his nose from the corner as a giant ball of blood splats into the ring. Alice stops skipping as she sizes Coe up. She sprints in with reckless intent...Coe suddenly springs out of the corner, drilling Alice under the chin with a Superkick!!! Alice falls flat on her back, motionless. Coe falls face forward as his nose continues to gush. The crowd grows silent~
Smith: There’s still life in Tatum Coe!
Hood: Of course there is...I mean, honestly, he’s only been bitten, elbowed and kicked in the groin.
Smith: Don’t forget the DDT.
Hood: Sorry, I forgot your BEST FRIEND was wrestling
Smith: She is NOT my best friend
~Alice rolls onto all fours before climbing to her feet. Coe has his hands clutched around the middle rope, using it to get to his feet. He turns around and Alice greets him with a kick into the gut. Coe doubles over as Alice hooks his head between her legs, signaling that she’s going for his finisher, Decadence. She tries to life Coe, but Coe blocks it and stands up, lifting Alice into the air, over the top rope and in between the Cube and the ring!! Alice lands hard onto the metal awning surrounding the ring, producing a loud “Clink!” The fans cringe with pain as Coe falls to his knees and checks on his nose~
Smith: Well, that kind of put a kink in Alice’s plans.
Hood: Don’t sound so upset over there, Smith. I mean, fuck, whatever happened to professionalism...what happened to non biased journalism!
Smith: Oh please, like you’re one to talk...Mr I need a new pair of pants every time Lurrr or Syren come down to the ring.
Hood: Don’t forget Bifford
Smith: Oh, yes, how could I forget Bifford...which begs the question, how many pairs of pants did you bring for the Hall of Fame Title match?
Hood: I’m wearing a diaper.
Smith: Seriously?
Hood: What do you think?
Smith: Disgusting
~Coe returns to his feet as Alice is lying on her side, clutching the lower portion of her back. She’s wedged pretty tightly between the Cube and the ring. There’s something sturdy underneath the ring blocking her from behind able to spread out and lay more comfortably. Coe looks down, noticing the predicament she’s in. He sprints to the other side of the ring and throws a vicious shoulder into the Cube!! It shifts, squishing Alice in between the plexiglass and whatever is underneath the ring. Alice’s face is smushed up against the plexiglass as the fans on that side of the ring seem extremely concerned. Coe then places his palms against the Cube and he pushes as hard as he can, continuing to apply all sorts of pressure on Alice as she lets out a couple of painful yells from the pressure~
Smith: Well, there’s something we haven’t seen before.
Hood: Tatum Coe is one smart mother fucker...brilliant move
Smith: I still fail to see how all of this is ‘Paradigm’
Hood: Quit your bitching...if you want a pure Paradigm Match, don’t put these fuckers in THE CUBE.
Smith: Indeed
~Coe relents in his shoving, sauntering to the other side of the ring. He looks down at Alice who is nearly crushed between a rock and, well, a plexiglass place. He then, surprisingly, shoves the Cube back, giving Alice some space. The crowd cheers, mildly, thinking he’s being gentlemanly. He proves them otherwise, quickly scaling to the top rope, looking down on Alice, who is on her side. Coe leaps off with a flying elbow, drilling it into Alice’s left shoulder!! Coe’s legs land hard on the awning as he quickly grabs his knee. Alice clutches her left shoulder as the fans groan from the pain inflicted on both competitors from the move~
Smith: Tatum Coe putting his body on the line in an attempt to cripple Alice Knight.
Hood: There you go with the over dramatics...nobody is being crippled.
Smith: How can you say that? Her shoulder could be shattered!
Hood: That’s still not crippled. I bet you FDR would have taken a shattered shoulder.
Smith: Too soon
Hood: Too soon? It’s been like eighty fucking years!
~Coe struggles to his feet, kicking his right leg out, trying to loosen or unlock his knee. He limps to Alice, pulling her to her feet. He hurls her into the ropes as Scruff stands back, watching. Coe slides into the ring and pops back to his feet. He lifts Alice up over her shoulder and carries her to the ropes...he drops her, throat first across the top! Alice jerks around, holding her throat in pain, as he does, Coe drills her in the face with a forearm uppercut!! Alice falls back to the crowd as Coe wipes some fresh blood away from his lips and chin, flicking his hand at the ground. A good stream slaps against the mat, with the fans continuously booing the unlikable superstar~
Smith: Coe back in control and this time, it looks to be for good.
Hood: Yea, well he still has to pin that bitch with her finisher.
Smith: HEY! That is so RUDE
Hood: Ah, so you guys ARE best friends
Smith: No, I’m just chivalrous
Hood: Does that mean you have a low blood temperature or something
Smith: No, it does not
~Coe yanks Alice to her feet and he double underhooks her. He lifts her up and drops her with the Rolling Double Underhook Suplex (Apache). Coe goes for the pin as Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Alice kicked out! Yes!!
Hood: You are in full on roommate mode now
Smith: No, I just can’t stand Tatum Coe
~Coe slaps the mat and points his index finger at Scruff in anger. Scruff just shrugs. Coe rolls his eyes as he lifts Alice back to her feet. He grabs the back of her head and drills a knee into her face. She falls into the ropes and ricochets off...Coe then knees her in the gut, underhooks her and delivers The Apache a second time!! He goes for the pin as Scruff slides in, quicker this time, and administers a slightly faster count~
1!
2!
SHOULDER UP!!
Smith: Shoulder up!! She’s unbelievable...a true Hall of Famer!!
Hood: Now who needs a change of pants?
Smith: My britches are just fine, thank you
Hood: Britches? For fucks sake
~Coe beats on the mat with both hands as he looks into the sky and shouts “This finisher fucking sucks!!” Frustrated, he gets to his feet and stomps on Alice several times as she rolls onto her side, trying to cover up. Coe then yanks her back to her feet and he kicks her into the gut. Alice doubles over as Coe hooks her head between his legs. The crowd rises in anticipation as it looks like he’s attempting to soften her up with Decadence. He lifts her up into powerbomb position, as he does, Alice grabs Coe’s nose!! Coe’s grip loosens, allowing Alice to put her knees into his face and yank him down, dropping him with a Codebreaker!! Coe staggers all the way into the ropes, falling through them and onto the metal awning in between the ring and plexiglass!! The crowd goes wild as Alice lies on her back, breathing heavily and staring at the top of the Cube, into the clear Brazilian sky~
Smith: Yes! Alice Knight has evened things out! You go Girl!!!
Hood: You are a horrible commentator and even worse at manhood. Besides, Coe is right, her move sucks.
Smith: No, maybe he just can’t perform it properly.
Hood: He’s Tatum Coe, he can make a Roll Up the most devastating move in the history of wrestling.
Smith: Whatever!
~Coe has returned to a seated position, with his back against the Cube. Using his feet, he pushes against the hard object under the ring, giving himself as much leg room as possible. He check on his nose, finding it pretty much destroyed. He grimaces in frustration. Back in the ring, Alice has returned to her feet. We focus back on Coe who remains seated, attempting to regain the majority of his wind. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the body of Alice Knight summersaults over the top rope and lands right on top of Coe!!! Unlike Coe’s dive, she lands entirely on Coe, preventing any harm being done from the metal awning. Coe, however, slumps to his side, eyes shut, convulsing in pain. The crowd goes wild as Alice grabs the ring apron and pulls herself to her feet before her shaking hand gives the fans a salute~
Smith: Coe has obviously zapped a tremendous amount of energy from Alice Knight, her body is visibly trembling from what it’s endured this evening.
Hood: Yea, and Coe has bled enough to supply an entire blood drive...so, I’d say they are about even.
Smith: Indeed
~Alice pulls Coe to his feet and shoves him under the bottom rope. She slides in behind him. Lifting Coe to his feet, she knees him in the gut and double underhooks him, attempting to do what Coe failed. She lifts Coe up and drops him with The Apache!! The crowd goes wild as Coe’s body is completely limp. Alice yanks him to his feet again and kicks him in the gut. Coe doubles over. Alice hooks him around the waist and goes for a powerbomb...but, halfway up, she drops him and falls back, landing on her bottom. She breathes heavily, looking at her shaking hands as Coe is on one knee, observing the trembling Hall of Famer. A smile crosses his face~
Smith: She can’t do it...she can’t lift him up. She’s too weakened from battle.
Hood: Haha, and Coe knows it to...this one is...over.
Smith: It’s sad to see, she’s got the heart of a champion.
Hood: Yea, well maybe if she didn’t live off of cats and cat food, her body wouldn’t be so depleted.
Smith: LAY OFF MY ROOMMATE!
Hood: Annnnd there’s the turn
~Alice climbs to her feet with Coe on his. They begin to trade punches in the middle of the ring with Coe gaining a clear advantage. Alice quickly kicks him in his wounded right knee. Coe staggers back, clutching it. Alice dropkicks Coe in the knee, he leans into the ropes, holding on to keep from falling. Alice reaches her feet and she sprints in for a clothesline with her left arm. Coe blocks it! With Alice’s left arm in his grasp, he shoves her into the middle of the ring and falls back, snapping her injured left shoulder!! Alice grabs it in pain as both competitors are on the mat, tending to their wounded joints~
Smith: Both warriors have obvious injuries and they’re looking to exploit them.
Hood: Yea, but I think Coe is a little more effective.
Smith: Of course you would say that
Hood: I say these things, because these things...they are true.
Smith: What a bloviated way of expressing yourself.
Hood: Hey, don’t call me fat!
Smith: I really need to get you a dictionary.
~Coe returns to his feet and he stomps on Alice’s wounded shoulder. Her body reacts in shock from the sharp pain the impact produces. Coe lifts her up and he thumbs her in the eyes. The fans boo loudly with Alice bending over. Coe underhooks her once more and slits his throat with his thumb. He lifts her up and drops her with the Apache!! He goes for the pin with Scruff sliding in. While pinning Alice, Coe holds her injured shoulder down~
1!
2!
RIGHT SHOULDER UP!!
Smith: Yes!! I thought for sure it was over!!
Hood: For the love, that woman needs to stay down. He’s going to kill her and her ancestors if she stays in there any longer.
Smith: It isn’t over until the bell rings, Hood.
Hood: Well, give me the fucking bell, because this bitch is over.
~Coe is on his knees, shaking his hand. He gives Scruff the kind of look that says “You are totally incompetent”. Scruff doesn’t notice, as his attention is on someone eating nachos in the crowd. While on his knees, Coe watches Alice struggle to get to a kneeling position. Alice is clearly running on empty. He palms her face and shoves her to the ground. Then, an idea springs to mind as he pulls her to her feet and drags her into the nearest corner. Shoving her back first into the corner, Coe palms her face as he begins to repeatedly slam the back of her head into the top turnbuckle until she collapses to the mat. The fans boo with each impact, really getting angry at Coe~
Smith: Coe is taking this too far, that was unnecessary.
Hood: No, that was Degradation. You should really get the names of the moves down, Smith.
Smith: I wasn’t talking about the move, you jerk!
Hood: Well, how should I know what you’re talking about...after all, I’m the one who needs a dictionary, remember?
~Coe rips Alice to her feet by grabbing her hair. He violently twirls her into the middle of the ring, looking to nail the Apache one more time. Alice, though, surprises everyone with a quick knee into Coe’s gut, followed by a Double Arm DDT!! The crowd ERUPTS as Coe is on all fours, dazed while Alice remains on her back, still pretty much knocked out. The fans chant for her to get up~
Smith: Double Arm DDT! One of her signature moves!
Hood: Oh, I see, you have no idea what Degradation is but you have like all thirty of Alice’s signature moves memorized. So biased.
Smith: Hey, well excuse me if a 2014 Hall of Famer is a bit fresher on my mind than some guy who won one title ten years ago.
Hood: Whoa, I’m telling Coe you said that.
Smith: Please don’t...
Hood: Nope, gonna do it
~Channeling the energy from the crowd, Alice gets to her feet first as Coe is almost in the starters position for a race. He sprints forward, grabbing Alice around the waist and bullying her into a corner. Alice nails him with forearms into his back. Coe rams repeated shoulders into her midsection until her assault ceases. Coe then climbs to the middle rope and he looks down at Alice...he drills her with a fierce right hand as her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head. Coe curses at Alice, furious over her refusing to go down. He sticks his left thumb into what remains of his left nostril and farmer blows a giant ball of blood into Alice’s face, covering it with his own blood! Alice suddenly grabs him by the legs and lifts him onto her shoulders. She walks as quickly as she can into the middle of the ring before powerbombing him into a piledriver!!! Coe’s body goes limp as his head is crushed into the mat! The fans go crazy as Alice crawls on top of Coe, draping her uninjured right arm over his heaving chest. Scruff slides in, with the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!!
~The bell rings as all the fans around the cliff leap to their feet cheering~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND THE NEW OCW PARADIGM CHAMPION...ALICE KNIGHT!!!!!
Smith: She did it!! My roommate did it!! Way to go Alice!!
Hood: This is such bullshit!!
~The sound of Hood hurling his headset to the side comes across the airwaves as we see Scruff checking on Alice. She is lying, face down with her arm still on Coe’s shoulders. He rolls Alice onto her back as we see her eyes blinking. We hear another headset being removed, this time in a much calmer manner. We then see Smith, with the Paradigm Title, rushing down the ramp, to the ring. He climbs in through the ropes and stands next to Scruff. Scruff helps Alice to her feet as Alice looks at Smith. He hands her the Paradigm Title and raises her hand in victory. The crowd cheers loudly and claps for the nice moment. Hood puts his headset back on~
Hood: I am going to puke all over this announce table. This is the most sickening moment in the history of OCW. If it weren’t for the fact that I have no actual job skills, I’d so quit right now.
~Scruff and Smith put Alice’s arms around their shoulders as her newly acquired Paradigm Title sits neatly across her right shoulder. She favors her left arm a bit as Smith alertly remains cautious with it. They exit the ring and help her down the ramp, towards the partition. Meanwhile, a few doctors have entered the ring, tending to a facially battered Tatum Coe~
Hood: Fucking Smith, leaving me out here to dry. I guess we’ll go to the back or some shit...to hell if I know what the fuck we’re supposed to do. Somebody get me a strongly mixed alcoholic beverage and, perhaps, Rohypnol so I can forget this shit!
~We go backstage where Dr. Shaidee is standing by with a trunk. The trunk suddenly pops open as Richard jumps out, his voice muffled due to the leather mask covering his entire face.~
Richard: Mmmph Mmph...mmmmppphhhh
Dr. Shaidee: Mmmhmm...well, yes, it is very unfortunate what happened with President Dean earlier today. As of right now, he has been diagnosed with a full blown concussion. He is undergoing further examinations as we speak, but I think it’s safe to say he will not be returning to Revenge this evening.
Richard: Mmpph...Mmmmph...mmmphhhh...mph
Dr. Shaidee: Ian Bishop can spout whatever nonsensical rhetoric pops into his cocaine damaged brain, but the facts are what they are. He was in no shape, physically to compete tonight. If he wants to undergo another physical, then I’d be more than willing to take him up on the offer and, at that time, if he’s cleared, he will be allowed to compete.
Richard: Mmmphhhhhh Mpppph
Dr. Shaidee: No, I will not remove that mask from your head.
~Richard lowers his head with sadness before resuming his job~
Richard: Mmmppphhhh Mmpphh Mmmppphhh
Dr. Shaidee: I’m sorry, but I will not dignify that question with a response...a little professionalism would be appreciated, Richard.
~Who’Re rushes up~
Who’Re: Dr. Shaidee, the House of Mirrors Match is set to go off in about an hour, I think it’s time you made your way to the amphitheater...they are probably going to need your services after the contest.
Dr. Shaidee: Oh, absolutely, those can get pretty bloody. Richard, thanks for your time, I will see you later.
~Dr. Shaidee exits as Richard hops back into his trunk...before he is able to shut the lid, Who’Re asks him a question~
Who’Re: Richard, what color is this dress?
Richard: Mmpph!
~After his emphatic declaration, Richard slams the trunk shut~
Who’Re: Ugh, I just don’t see the black and blue...it’s SO white and gold, this is incredibly frustrating!
~Who’Re storms off as we cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Only in OCW, folks.
Hood: Richard seems better spoken than before, wouldn’t you agree?
Smith: I honestly couldn’t understand a word he said.
Hood: Well, then you obviously weren’t listening.
Smith: Right...well folks...a special, early treat for you all as up next we’ve got the Hall of Fame Championship Match!
Hood: Holy shit, already?!
Smith: Yep, so let’s send it to our second announce team...
Hood: WAIT...I’m not calling that match?
Smith: Sorry, champ...but it’s not in The Cube
Hood: I feel so...so...hollow inside.
Smith: I’m sure you’ll be fine...to the amphitheater we go!
~We cut to the spectacle that is OCW’s open aired amphitheater. Fans surround the ring, eager for the action to get underway. We focus on Jones, Killface and Brother D~
Jones: Thanks for tossing it over here guys...my oh my what a great night we’ve witnessed thus far!
Killface: Yes, that Sub Zero contest was downright delightful.
Jones: And that was merely the appetizer as, next up, we have the highly anticipated Hall of Fame Title Match between champion Lurrr and The Big Bifford.
Killface: How Big is this Bifford fellow?
Jones: Pretty big
Brother D: Fat pussy!
Killface: I do believe, before the night is over, that I may murder the tiny man on my left.
Jones: I certainly wouldn’t testify as a witness against the act...anyway, back to the match, these two competitors, for as long as they’ve been in OCW and for everything they’ve accomplished, I don’t think have ever met, one on one in an OCW ring.
Killface: Ah, like that instant classic encounter between George Washington and Benjamin Franklin we, sadly, never received.
Jones: Umm, sure...let’s head down to ringside.
Dumpster Match
Lurrr (c) (5pts) vs. The Big Bifford (0pts)
Predator: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the Hall of Fame Championship Match!! In order to win this match, a competitor must dump their opponent completely inside the dumpster before slamming the lid shut, trapping them inside.
~”Gangsta’s Paradise” by Coolio hits as the crowd stands on their feet and gives a nostalgia filled applause for OCW legend and Hall of Famer, The Big Bifford. As usual, Bifford is riding a tiny, motorized ring to the ring with several air horns blaring out and butchered chants of “Bifford” echoing throughout the crowd. Bifford exits his cart and rolls into the ring...the mat leans in heavily due to his weight as it’s obvious Bifford has not been monitoring his diet since we last saw him~
Predator: Introducing first, he is a former OCW World Champion and current OCW Hall of Famer...The Big Bifford!!!
~”Cocky” by Kid Rock hits as the fans, again, give a nostalgia filled ‘pop’ for OCW Hall of Famer and HOF Champion, Lurrr. Lurrr struts to the ring, playing to the crowd in an arrogant manner. He finds a sign that says “I came to see Bob Grenier!” Lurrr rips the sign down the middle and spits on the fan. The fan tries to hop the guard rail but Lurrr’s giant bodyguard, Rick Mathis, shoves him back into the crowd. Lurrr hustles to the apron, flatfooted, he hops onto the apron before jumping over the top rope and into the ring. Bifford, covered in his fleece, is hanging in a corner, staring at Lurrr and giving him an eager ovation~
Predator: And his opponent, from Houston, Texas...he is a former OCW Television Champion, a former Intercontinental Champion, a former 3 time OCW Champion and the current OCW Hall of Fame Champion. He is the self proclaimed ‘Mr. OCW’...he is...Lurrr!!!
~Lurrr holds his HOF title up high for everyone to see. Predator sneaks up behind him, attempting a hip rub. Lurrr instantly snaps his leg back, drilling Predator underneath the chin with the Wake Up Call!! Predator is out on his back as Gruff rolls him outside the ring. Gruff then takes the HOF Title and holds it up for everyone to see as the bell sounds~
Jones: You can feel it in the air, folks! The electricity in this amphitheater, you can cut it with a knife!
Killface: I’d insist against doing that, could receive quite a shock.
Jones: Not literally
Brother D: I’d knife that pussy all night long!
Jones: Who are you constantly talking about, Brother D?
Killface: His mother, most likely
Jones: Oh!
Brother D: hahahahah
~Standing in the middle of the ring, Lurrr is coiled, ready for action. Bifford, meanwhile, looks around, confused. He walks up to Lurrr as Lurrr prepares for battle. Bifford storms right past him and asks for a mic. Biff receives it and he speaks~
The Big Bifford: Dangerous Dan, you coward! Get out here!
~The crowd, Gruff and Lurrr all seem confused. Lurrr twirls Biff’s meaty body around and shoves him. Biff extends his hand for a shake while speaking~
The Big Bifford: So glad you could make it to Brazil, President Lurrr. Now, if you excuse me, I have some murdering to do.
~Biff turns his attention back towards the entrance ramp~
The Big Bifford: Come on, Dangerous Dan...we’re waiting!!
~Agitated, Lurrr looks at Gruff for guidance. Gruff simply shrugs. Biff hurls the mic at the entrance ramp...his aim is off, as it flies into the crowd and nails a goofy looking fan in the head, knocking him out. The fan, though, did have one of those annoying air horns, so the people around him erupt in cheers. Lurrr, on the other hand, is far from happy. Again, he turns Biff around and begins yelling at him. Biff starts laughing, thinking Lurrr is messing with him. Lurrr shoves Biff in the corner and sticks his index finger in Biff’s face. Instead of sensing the threat, Biff just continues to laugh and pat Lurrr on the chest, saying “It’s good to see you too, buddy.”~
Jones: I think it’s fairly obvious that Bifford assumed he was coming to Revenge to fight and, potentially, murder Dangerous Dan.
Killface: I don’t know about you two, but I’m down for a good, old fashioned throat slashing.
Brother D: Slash, Dash...get all up in that gash!
Jones: Yea, I don’t think we’re going to see any murdering tonight...at least, I hope not. Dan, as far as I know, is hanging out at our other location, far away from here.
~Lurrr stands, hands on his hips, glaring at Biff. Biff stands upright and walks up to Lurrr. Lurrr, for the first time, has a glimmer of hope that the match may begin. He prepares to lock up. Biff then asks Lurrr, “Have you seen Dan?” The crowd and Lurrr all groan simultaneously. Lurrr throws his arms in the air and paces around the ring as Biff looks towards the entrance ramp like an eager kid awaiting his dad to take him on a fishing trip. Lurrr suddenly spots something in the crowd. He hops through the ropes and rushes to the guardrail...he points at a fan a few rows back and motions for them to step forward~
Jones: What is going on here? Did that fan look at Lurrr the wrong way?
Killface: Perhaps he’s cross eyed
Brother D: Lick it so longer you go...
Killface: SHUT YOUR FAT FACE
~Lurrr negotiates with the fan for a few moments before Mathis steps forward and hands an American twenty dollar bill to the fan. In exchange, the fan gives Lurrr a mask of sorts. Lurrr shoves the fan away before sliding into the ring. He pops to his feet and puts the mask over his face. It’s a Dangerous Dan mask~
Jones: Well, this could get interesting
Killface: Why is Lurrr dressed like a clown?
Jones: That’s not a clown, that’s Dangerous Dan
Killface: Oh, so this Dangerous Dan exists.
Jones: Yes he does, Mr. Face
Brother D: Face plant right into...
Jones: Yes, we get it
~Lurrr slaps Biff on the back. Biff turns around and instantly sees the Dangerous Dan mask. A giant ball of flame emerges in his eyes as he lifts his arms up and double chops Lurrr on the shoulders!! Lurrr staggers back against the ropes, leaning against them. Bifford charges as fast as he can and he clotheslines Lurrr over the top rope, to the outside! The crowd goes wild as Bifford has suddenly been unleashed~
Jones: And heeeere we go!! The mask worked!
Killface: That fat man can really move
Jones: Well, he isn’t in the Hall of Fame without cause...and, I might say, I’m pleasantly surprised at Brother D’s silence
Killface: Oh, that’s because my hand is wrapped tightly around his throat for the moment.
Jones: I do not object
~Bifford makes his way through the ropes, carefully placing his large frame on the outside flooring. His feet land on the mat surrounding the ring. Lurrr has positioned himself, seated atop the top stair, catching his breath. Biff cocks his arm back, ready to nail Lurrr...just then, Lurrr removes the Dan mask. Biff stops and extends his hand for a shake. Lurrr goes to shake Biff’s hand, but pulls back and backhands Biff across the face!! Biff’s head violently jerks to the left! The crowd “ooohhs” at the sight of one Hall of Famer bitch slapping the other. Biff returns his head forward and, surprisingly smiles. He goes in for a hug...annoyingly, Lurrr dodges Biff’s grasp and locates a chair. He folds it up and slams it into Biff’s back!! Biff stumbles into the steps, grasping the top step with his hands, maintaining balance. The fans boo Lurrr’s behavior. Lurrr drills Biff in the back of the leg with the chair as Biff falls to one knee. Lurrr then reaches back as far as he can and smashes the chair into the back of Biff’s head!! Biff falls forward, his face smacks against the steps, causing his neck to jerk violently and his body to land on its back. Lurrr hears the fans boo and he threatens to nail a few of the front row spectators with the chair. They quiet down. Lurrr then tosses the chair as far as he can into the crowd, holding his arms in the air~
Jones: Well, I’m not sure how I feel about that
Killface: It’s almost as if he’s beating a child!
Brother D: Oooh, Underage
Jones: Stop it right there!
Killface: Seriously, you’re going to get us all arrested and while I survived the catacombs of Ancient Rome, I have no desire in returning.
Jones: Sure...but, back to this match...I don’t really see how we can have a competitive contest. Biff, for some reason, will only fight Dan or a person he believes is Dan.
Killface: If I were that Lurrr chap, I believe I’d wrestle without the mask the entire match. No sense in ever putting it on.
~Lurrr grabs Biff by his magical fleece, pulling the giant man to his feet. Biff is still a bit dazed, allowing Lurrr to escort him around the ring, to the aisle way. They step off the mat, their feet suddenly surrounded by thick, plush grass. There is a dumpster near the entry way, obviously placed there to accommodate the match type. Biff suddenly throws Lurrr off of him! The crowd goes wild, thinking the situation has clicked in his mind. Lurrr rolls around in the grass, taking a fairly nasty spill. Biff then lunges at a fan in the crowd wearing a similar Dangerous Dan mask! He pulls the fan over the guard rail and begins to stomp on him in the aisle way as the surrounding fans don’t really know whether to cheer or boo. Aside from the fan’s family members, they are booing pretty loudly. Lurrr sits up and observes the situation, shaking his head~
Jones: Hmm
Killface: I believe that fan is getting more than he bargained for.
Brother D: Mmmfphhh
Jones: Duct tape?
Killface: Yep
~Biff pulls the fan to his feet...the fan’s body is lifeless, having taken an extreme beating from The Big Bifford. Bifford hoists the fan over his shoulder, he walks up to the dumpster and he tosses the fan inside, slamming the top shot. He holds his arms in the air...then looks around, confused~
Jones: Bifford seems to think he has won the match
Killface: Apparently he’s confused about the absence of the bell
Jones: That’s because he hasn’t won a darn thing yet
Killface: Is this man off his meds or something?
Jones: I don’t think he’s ever really been diagnosed with anything official
Killface: How sad
Jones: My only question is why there are so many Dangerous Dan masks in the crowd
Killface: To hell if I know, I didn’t even know the guy was in existence until a few moments ago
~Lurrr suddenly hops on Bifford’s back, applying a sleeper hold!! Biff waves his arms in the air, attempting to pry Lurrr away. But Lurrr’s grip is too strong as he’s cutting off Biff’s air passage. Biff falls to one knee, his posture slumping. Finally, he falls over to his side as Lurrr releases the hold and looks down at, an apparently sedate, Bifford. Lurrr stomps on Biff’s head several times in anger. Each time, the side of Biff’s head slams into the hard earth. Finally, he yanks Biff to his feet, after expending a ton of energy doing so, and drags him near the dumpster. Lurrr flips the lid open and attempts to lift Biff up and over. After a few attempts, Lurrr reaches the quick realization that he is not going to be able to get Biff inside...not without help, at least~
Jones: Lurrr is quite possibly facing the toughest task in his OCW career.
Killface: It’s like lifting a truck or, at the very least, a very small bus
Jones: You mean like the short bus?
Killface: We shouldn’t make fun of Brother D while he’s all muffled and present.
Jones: Good call
~Lurrr releases his grip on Bifford and watches the giant man melt to the ground. He then storms off, heading to the back, through the curtain. Bifford slowly reaches all fours, shaking the cob webs sticking to his thought process. He reaches both feet and removes his magical fleece, finding it a bit warm. Turning his head to the right, he notices a Dangerous Dan sign and instantly darts for the crowd. He reaches for the sign and rips it away. Biff tears it down the middle with RAGE. Just then, the crowd reacts as a giant fork lift comes barreling from behind the curtain with Lurrr behind the wheel. Biff fails to notice, too consumed with finding more Dan paraphernalia in the Brazilian crowd. Spotting Biff’s back to him, Lurrr drives the fork lift at Biff, attempting to run him over. The crowd screams in horror at the impending disaster. Lurrr punches the gas ,a few feet from Biff. The two arms that are used to lift items up go around Biff’s head, trapping him in place. The rest of the fork lift slams against the guardrail, surprisingly pinning Biff, rather than demolishing him. Lurrr tries to go in reverse, but it won’t budge. He tries to go forward, but the guard rail is too resistant. He slams his fist into the wheel, angry that he was unable to run Biff over. Bifford, meanwhile, remains trapped~
Jones: Well, that’s certainly, umm, different
Killface: He was trying to decapitate the fat man!
Jones: I’m honestly not sure Lurrr was thinking things through...he just saw Biff and wanted to hurt him.
Brother D: Mmmppphhhh....blargh...free! Biff split those arms like slicing right through a piece of pussy pie!
Killface: For the love, he broke through!
Jones: We need staples!
~Lurrr climbs over the steering wheel and stands atop the two arms with Biff’s face looking right at him, trapped. Biff holds his arm up, asking Lurrr for help. Lurrr delivers a soccer style kick right into Biff’s face!! The fans boo loudly. Lurrr repeats the kick three more times as blood starts to rapidly drip from Biff’s nostrils. Biff’s body goes limp, again, as he’s being held up by the fork lift’s arms. Seeing a helpless, unconscious Biff brings a smile to Lurrr’s face as he raises both arms high above, an act that further buries him with the crowd~
Jones: Total domination here by Lurrr. I mean, all things considered, this isn’t even a contest.
Killface: And, like a smart man, he has yet to put that mask back on.
Jones: You called it, wearing that mask would only put this match in jeopardy.
Brother D: Anonymous poon tang
Killface: Ah, the stapler has arrived
Brother D: Wait, wait...I...OUCH!!!
~We hear a few ‘clicks’ followed by high pitched screams as Brother D’s mouth is stapled shut. Lurrr hops off the arms as he notices a group of really angry fans wearing Bifford shirts. Lurrr steps up to the guard rail and mocks them. He holds his arms up and makes fun of their physiques. Lurrr flips them his middle finger before turning his back and assessing what to do next. As he does, several hands reach over the guard rail and they yank Lurrr into the angry mob! The crowd goes wild as the fans quickly engulf Lurrr, causing him to disappear in their sea of insanity~
Jones: Uh oh, this isn’t good...we need security! Security, get out here!
Killface: Hmm, nobody is coming...do they hate this Lurrr guy that much?
Jones: I don’t know, I think they might all be at The Cube watching over Grenier and Vargas.
Killface: Fascinating
~Watching with tremendous angst, we see Lurrr’s body slowly re-emerge. The fans collectively hurl him over the guard rail, back onto the grass paved aisle way. Lurrr lands hard and shakes his head, having taken a few choice blows to the face. One thing is off about Lurrr, though. The fans have apparently stuck a Dangerous Dan mask on Lurrr’s face. He reaches up and tries to remove it, but it’s really stuck on. He’s unable to rip it off. Lurrr rushes to his feet and he lunges at the fans, but they all back away. He yells a few choice words at them until something catches the corner of his eye. Turning around, he sees Biff shoving the fork life, which is in park, by the way, away from him. He is released from the death grip and is staring with hate filled eyes at Lurrr. Lurrr throws his hands up, trying to talk some sense into Biff. We hear him yell “I’m not Dan, I’m your old buddy, Lurrr!” Biff charges at Lurrr and spears him to the ground!! The crowd goes wild as Biff unloads a series of lefts and rights, pummeling Lurrr into the dirt~
Jones: I think the fans GLUED a Dan mask to Lurrr’s face!
Killface: How clever! I believe we have ourselves a match...oh, hey, Brother D, would you mind doing me a favor and quit bleeding all over our announce desk.
Brother D: *light sobbing*
Killface: HUSH! We’re trying to call a match here.
~Biff climbs to his feet and he pulls Lurrr up to his. He lifts Lurrr up, high over his head ,and tosses Lurrr back down to the dirt with a Press Slam!! Lurrr lands hard, arching his back in pain. Biff then knees Lurrr in the face, as he was slightly sitting up, agonizing in the pain his back was experiencing. Lurrr falls back down, lying flat in the grass. Biff looks for and obtains his Magical Fleece. He tightly secures it around Lurrr’s throat and begins to choke away as Lurrr’s face turns a bright red. He attempts to rip the Fleece off, but Biff has a murderous grip locked around Lurrr’s throat, assuming he’s about to complete his lifelong goal of murdering Dangerous Dan~
Jones: Biff treasures that Fleece and now he’s getting it dirty while applying it with murderous intent!
Killface: Soiling a good fleece, not the wisest move during the month of February.
Jones: Luckily, we are in Brazil.
Killface: And he’s got plenty of layers covering his bones to spare.
Jones: Exactly...and, may I just say...this is flowing much smoother.
Killface: Agreed
~Lurrr struggles, fighting to his feet as Biff continues to apply pressure to his Fleece choke hold. Staggering around, Lurrr sets his eyes on the fork lift. He drags Biff near the lift and steps on the interior, next to the seat...he then kicks off, flipping over Biff and, while in the air, wraps his bicep underneath Biff’s neck, dropping him to the grass with some type of modified Reverse DDT! Biff, stunned by the move, releases his hold on the fleece as Lurrr remains on the ground, gasping for air while rubbing his red, sore neck~
Jones: Tremendous reversal by Lurrr, it’s obvious he’s as athletic as ever!
Killface: Surprised his neck didn’t snap there.
Jones: He obviously works those muscles out intensely.
Killface: Apparently, that or the fat man’s fleece is made of cheap fur, Squirrel, perhaps.
Jones: A squirrel fleece?!
Killface: Or raccoon, I don’t know, I’m far from a bloody expert on fleece making!
~Bifford rolls over, slowly returning to his feet. He lifts up his Magical Fleece and notices that it is beyond repair, so he casually tosses it aside. He then lumbers his way towards the ring with Lurrr rolling around in the grass, still in pain. Lurrr manages to roll onto his belly as he looks over at Bifford, seeing him walk away with determination. Lurrr takes the opportune moment to crawl for the fork lift. Nearing the device, he reaches up and pulls his depleted body up, into the cabin before taking a rest in the driver’s seat. With his eyes shut, Lurrr takes in a few deep breaths, collecting his thoughts. Suddenly, the crowd reacts in horror, loudly, which snares his attention. Turning towards the ring, Lurrr sees Biff has obtained a Scythe from underneath the ring and is heading his way. Lurrr’s eyes widen as he tries to start the fork lift, but seems to be having difficulty doing so~
Jones: My goodness!! Bifford has his Scythe!! Why was that under the ring??
Killface: You mean to tell me they don’t typically keep Scythes, swords or other dangerous forms of weaponry under the ring?
Jones: NO!
Killface: Certainly lowers the stakes to an almost mundane degree
Jones: Sure, but it also, you know, preserves human life.
Killface: I guess being ageless minimizes the thought of death.
Jones: Ya think?
~Lurrr, with his Dan mask still on, looks at Biff, then back at the ignition. He frantically tries starting it up, finding the old piece of Brazilian machinery to be a bit beyond stubborn. He kicks and punches the interior, growing increasingly frustrated as Biff stalks closer and closer with his Mighty Scythe. Finally, the ignition connects, firing up! Lurrr backs the fork lift up before placing it in drive and heading for the dumpster. He attempts to roll past it, but it suddenly goes dead. Lurrr yells and screams obscenities, trying to re-start the engine. However, no such luck as the expiration date on the archaic lift has apparently passed. Lurrr looks over his shoulder as Biff is within teen feet of the machine. Lurrr stands up and moves to exit...as he does, the Mighty Scythe SWIPES right past him!! Lurrr falls back into the seat, startled that he was almost chopped in half. Bifford stands in front of the entry way, smiling with his Scythe in hand...he looks at Lurrr, with the Dan mask on, and says “Finally, I get to murder you.” Biff reaches back with the Scythe as Lurrr is trapped. Suddenly, something catches the corner of his eye...he turns around and sees the Dangerous Dan dressed fan he threw into the dumpster trying to climb out. Biff scratches his head, confused before saying, “What kind of voodoo sorcery is this, Dan?!” Biff quickly twirls around, slinging his Scythe at the fan, is slices a deep wound into the fan’s arm. He cries out in pain before falling to the ground~
Jones: That poor fan!! His arm has been sliced WIDE OPEN!
Killface: Finally, something worth watching
Jones: With a display like this, you can forget Brazil ever inviting us back for another OCW event.
Killface: On the contrary, this is a ravenous place known for all sorts of diabolical behavior. A display like the one we’re currently witnessing almost ensures they will invite us back.
Jones: Well, then I’m not sure how I feel about Brazil at the moment.
~Biff stands over the Dan fan who is bleeding tremendous amounts of blood. He readies for a kill shot when the fan suddenly removes his mask saying, “I’m not Dan!! I’m not Dan!!” Biff lowers his Scythe and suddenly points towards the back shouting, “Medic! We need a medic out here! This poor fan is bleeding all over the place!!” A few medics rush out to tend to the gushing wound in the Dan fan’s arm. Biff then turns his unadulterated Rage back towards Lurrr. Lurrr has kicked out the window of the fork lift and is standing on the arms, which are conveniently located right above the dumpster. Biff climbs into the cock pit area of the fork lift before fitting his massively fat frame out onto the legs as well. Making it through the window, Biff is standing on the legs and staring a Lurrr, with the Dan mask on his face, twirling the Scythe in his hands. Lurrr frantically tries to rip the mask off, but is having no such luck. Without any warning, Biff takes a swipe with his Scythe!! Lurrr jumps back, avoiding the blade but, in the process, he falls off the legs and lands on the edge of the dumpster!! His stomach hits first with his upper torso hanging in the dumpster and his feet dangling out! The crowd hangs in anticipation as Lurrr is inches away from losing the match~
Jones: Lurrr is half way in that dumpster!! Bifford is about to become the Hall of Fame Champion...not sure he realizes it...but it’s about to happen!
Killface: I’d say Lurrr made the right choice...life or the Hall of Fame Title...any mortal man should choose life, I’d wager.
Jones: Well, yea, when faced with those two options, I’d have to side with Life.
Killface: Ooh, that reminds me, I have to buy a box of cereal after the show.
Jones: You eat cereal?
Killface: I’m ageless, Jones...not a freak.
Jones: Sorry, my mistake.
~Seeing Lurrr’s legs dangling off the side, Biff readies his Scythe, preparing to jump off the arms of the fork lift and chop Lurrr’s legs off. Before he can, the infamous chords to “Ego” by Element Eighty blast throughout the amphitheater as the crowd rises to their feet and begin to go insane. Biff looks around with widened eyes, shocked that he’s hearing the legendary theme music and half way expecting it all to be a surprise~
Jones: Whoa!! I know that music!
Killface: Excellent song, to whom does it belong?
Jones: Watch the entrance way, Killface, you’re in store for something special.
~If there was a roof on this place, it would have most definitely been blown off as OCW Hall of Famer, Mario Maurako emerges on stage!!! The crowd goes wild as Biff’s jaw nearly drops. Maurako stands for a moment, soaking the ovation in before marching toward the fork lift. Biff remains motionless, frozen due to the unexpected nature of the moment. Mario reaches up, grabbing the fork lift’s arms and does a pull up, with impressive ease, climbing up onto the arms. He stands eye to eye with Bifford, staring him down. Maurako’s music ends as Biff remains dumbfounded~
Jones: Mario Maurako is here, in Brazil...AT Revenge...but the question is, why?
Killface: I’m no expert on OCW history, but I’d say it appears he doesn’t much care for this Bifford fellow.
Jones: Do you think he’s here to steal the OCW Hall of Fame title for himself?
Killface: Possibly, that would make a bit of sense.
Jones: I just...I can’t really fathom why he’d be here. You’ll have to excuse me, fans if I’m a little startled, the last time we saw Maurako, he was being hurled into the trunk of a mobster’s car before being driven away...never to be seen again...until now.
Killface: Interesting
~Standing eye to eye, toe to toe for what feels like minutes, Mario finally reacts. He rips Biff’s Scythe away and breaks it over his knee. The crowd cheers loudly. Mario kicks Biff in the gut, twirls him around, applies a full nelson before lifting Bifford into the air and slamming him down into the dumpster with LA OMERTA!! The entire dumpster shakes as several pieces of trash fly out as a result of the tremendous impact!! The crowd erupts with a wild ovation after the impressive display of strength by Maurako~
Jones: He just Full Nelson Slammed Bifford into the dumpster...La Omerta! My goodness, we’ve seen La Omerta, the 2014 Finisher of the Year!!
Killface: He is quite strong
Jones: Quite strong?! Maurako is a beast!!
~Maurako gracefully hops down from the arms as he approaches Lurrr’s legs. Reaching up, he grabs Lurrr by the waist band of his trunks and pulls out him out of the dumpster. Maurako then slams the lid shut, trapping Bifford inside as the bell sounds~
Jones: Mauarko just shut the lid on Bifford! He’s helped Lurrr win this match and retain his Hall of Fame Championship!
Killface: Now would be a great time for a short arm clothesline or perhaps that La Omerta move again.
Jones: You think? Is this Maurako’s way of challenging Lurrr for the Hall of Fame Title at next month’s event?
Killface: Seems logical enough to me.
~There is a hint of tension in the air as Lurrr, breathing heavily, looks at Maurako. Maurako looks back at Lurrr. The fans, nor the commentators, have any idea what is going to come next. Gruff suddenly appears with the Hall of Fame title in his arms. Maurako rips it away from him, looking down at the prestigious gold~
Jones: What’s he going to do with that...
Killface: I predict he smashes it into Lurrr’s face! What a brilliant tactic that would be...that’s one way to thrust yourself into the limelight.
Jones: It would certainly fit Mario’s mentality these past few years. A different Mario than the one we once knew, for sure.
~Growing anxious, the fans are waiting to see what happens next. With his free hand, Mario reaches up and violently rips the Dan mask off of Lurrr’s face. Lurrr winces in pain, but his face is unscathed. He breathes freely, glad to be rid of that horrid mask. Mario then looks back at the title before reaching out and handing it to Lurrr! Lurrr takes the title as Mario raises Lurrr’s hand in victory~
Predator: Here is your winner...AND STILL OCW HALL OF FAME CHAMPION...LURRR!!!!!
Jones: Wait...so Mario came out here to HELP Lurrr win...that doesn’t make any sense to me.
Killface: Me either, I thought this bloke was some sort of cold blooded mafia type...
Jones: He is...do you think Lurrr paid him off?
Killface: You’re seriously asking the wrong person.
Jones: There has to be more to this story...something nobody is aware of.
~Together, Mario and Lurrr head up the ramp way and through the curtain as OCW medics finish bandaging up the fan before turning their attention inside the dumpster and toward Bifford~
Jones: Well folks, a tremendous match and even bigger surprise at the end which leaves us asking so many questions. I have no idea when or if we’ll get the answers, but that time and date will have to wait until later. We’re going to get things cleaned up around here and take you back to The Cube where Smith and Hood are ready to call tonight’s Ascension Title Match, enjoy!
~We cut back to Smith and Hood, who both seem to be a bit blown away~
Smith: So, Ian Bishop appears and lays Dean out...then the Lockwoods literally FLY over OCW security and destroy the tag title match and...now...just when you think it can’t get any crazier, Mario Maurako returns and HELPS Lurrr defeat Bifford.
Hood: Was it just me, or did Bifford look a little lighter than usual. Like maybe he’s been on a low carb diet.
Smith: Would you please focus on the major return of Mario Maurako for a moment?
Hood: Sorry...but, yea, Mario is back and I’m stoked. He dominated OCW last year with The Family.
Smith: But now he’s with Lurrr...and with Bishop back...there are so many questions.
Hood: Like whose trunk was he in...was he in that trunk this entire time?
Smith: Doubtful
Hood: Wow, now that I’m thinking about all of this, you’re right...who gives a shit if Bifford’s lost a few pounds.
Smith: Amazing, how you are able to hold onto this gig. Anyway, tremendous night so far, Hood and we’re, really, only just getting started.
Hood: Can we finally get back to The Cube? I’m sick of staring at a giant, plexiglass box with nothing going on inside.
Smith: Patience is a virtue, one you’ve seemingly never possessed. But, rest assured, the time for The Cube is now.
Hood: Sweet, OCW Title match here we come!
Smith: Not so fast, my friend. That is our main event, right now we are going to be treated to a Three Stages of Escalation Match for the Ascension Title between Ashe Dawson and The Lost Soul.
Hood: Ugh, alright, I guess that sounds...momentarily acceptable.
Smith: Way to push the product, old friend! Let’s head down to ringside!
Hood: How many times do I have to remind you, I’m not your fucking friend!
Three Stages of Escalation
Ashe Dawson (0pts) vs. The Lost Soul (0pts)
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the OCW Ascension Championship Contest!! This match is a Three Stages of Escalation bout!
~The fans stand and watch as the Friday the 13th Theme begins to play and The Lost Soul steps out from behind the curtain. Slowly, he makes his way to the ring without glancing at any of the fans. A few cheers are heard here and there but, overall, the crowd just watches the enigmatic wrestler stalk his way toward The Cube. Crossing the walk way, TLS enters into the Cube and climbs into the ring~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Parts Unknown...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 235lbs...The Lost Soul!!!
~”The Calling” by All that Remains hits as the fans give a much louder, more eager ovation with the sound of Ashe Dawson’s theme emanating throughout the outdoor venue and crowd. Dawson briskly emerges from behind the curtain and makes his way towards The Cube. He scales the walkway twice as fast as TLS, rolling in under the bottom rope and popping to his feet, glaring at TLS~
Belvedere: And his opponent, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania...standing 6’1 and weighing in at 201lbs...Ashe Dawson!!!
~Scruff holds the Ascension Title high in the air before handing it over to Belvedere, who exits the ring with the title. The door is sealed shut as the bell sounds, signaling the beginning of the match. Dawson slaps both bare shoulders with his arms, ready to go. TLS just kind of stands in his corner, expressionlessly staring at Dawson...having waited long enough, Dawson charges at TLS and starts peppering him with lefts and rights. TLS responds by nailing Dawson in the gut with lefts and rights. The stronger of the two, TLS is able to force his way out of the corner, reversing their roles. With Dawson backed into the corner, TLS drills him in the gut with a knee, slowing him down. TLS then drives a sharp elbow into the side of Dawson’s face, stunning him. TLS follows that up with another knee into Dawson’s midsection, keeping him cornered and under duress~
Smith: Dawson entered into this match with a full head of steam.
Hood: Yep, but fucking TLS basically said ‘fuck this shit’ and put him in his place.
Smith: In a way, yes...TLS is a wily veteran who is far more accomplished than most OCW fans are aware. He knows what he’s doing and it’s to his benefit if this match moves at a slower pace.
Hood: Of course, because, if they move slower, they won’t sweat as much and his face paint will last longer.
Smith: I highly doubt that’s the source of his motivation.
~TLS lowers his shoulder and drives it into Dawson’s midsection a few times, really working over that portion of Dawson’s body, keeping him ground. After four shoulder thrusts, TLS goes for one more, Dawson, though, lifts his knee into the forehead of TLS! TLS staggers back, holding his head in pain as Dawson slouches in the corner, breaking heavily. TLS bursts forward, going for a clothesline, but Dawson lifts both knees into the face of TLS. He staggers back as Dawson continues to recover. Dawson stands up and throws a punch at TLS, TLS blocks it and head butts Dawson back into the corner. TLS then leans on Dawson, shaking the webs from inside his head. He then whips Dawson across the ring as Dawson slams into the opposing corner. TLS charges in, going for a Stinger Splash, but Dawson lifts his foot and kicks TLS right in the face!! TLS staggers back, dazed. Dawson leaps out of the corner and he takes TLS to the mat with a forceful lariat~
Smith: Nice sequence there, Ashe Dawson chipping away at The Lost Soul until he was able to finally get him off his feet.
Hood: So much for slowing things down, TLS did all he could to keep Dawson in that corner, but the fucker just kicked his way to freedom, apparently.
Smith: Yep, however, speed may come back to haunt Dawson. This isn’t your ordinary match, this match requires patience and endurance.
Hood: Shit, I need another five hour energy drink.
Smith: I highly doubt this one will go five hours.
Hood: Yea, I know, but I’m so immune to that shit, one five hour energy is good for, oh, maybe 20 minutes.
Smith: You should see a doctor
~Dawson is quick to his feet with TLS rolling over, lifting himself on all fours. Dawson delivers a swift soccer kick into the gut of TLS. TLS rolls over into the ropes, lying underneath the bottom rope with his left side wedged against The Cube. Dawson sprints in and does a baseball slide, jamming TLS against the Cube even harder. The Cube slightly shifts, creating a bit of space between its die and the ring. Dawson gets back to his feet and he pulls TLS toward the middle of the ring. He drops a couple of quick elbows across the throat and chest of TLS before applying a firmly fastened chin lock, his arm nearly underneath the throat of TLS, cutting off most of his oxygen. Scruff watches, not asking if TLS wants to submit~
Smith: Submissions will not be accepted in this first portion of the match.
Hood: Typical Ashe Dawson, what a moron.
Smith: Far from a stupid strategy, as we previously stated, this match is going to be a marathon, if he can wear down TLS with a chin lock, why not give it a try?
Hood: Because chin locks are fucking gay.
Smith: Got any research to back that claim up?
Hood: Absolutely, just look at what’s going on inside the ring...all the proof you need.
Smith: Whatever
~TLS fights his way to a standing position. He drills a couple of hard elbows into Dawson’s abdomen. Dawson releases the hold. TLS whips Dawson into the nearest corner, Dawson slams hard. TLS charges in, but Dawson lifts his leg...this time, TLS catches Dawson’s foot and turns on it. Dawson’s body rotates where he is now facing the corner, clutching the top rope with both hands to maintain balance. TLS grabs his other leg and pulls back, ripping Dawson from the corner and causing him to fall face first onto the mat!! Dawson grabs his face in pain as TLS walks up and stomps on the back of his head, drilling his face right back down into the mat~
Smith: Vicious assault by The Lost Soul as he proves you can’t get away with the same move twice.
Hood: I’m ready for some, you know, actual moves. This shit is getting stale.
Smith: I actually find it interesting...both men are attempting to find a soft spot in an effort to gain the upper head.
Hood: Well, I guess some of us have to be fans of the slow burn...explains why Jane Austen is so fucking popular.
Smith: I’ll gladly support Jane Austen’s work while you continue to shell out money for Michael Bay’s latest catastrophe.
Hood: KABLOOM MUTHA FUCKA!
~TLS yanks back on Dawson’s hair, pulling him up. He hooks Dawson around the waist, going for a German Suplex, Dawson blocks it with his leg. He then throws an elbow, drilling TLS in the chin. TLS backs away as Dawson twirls around with a Spinning Wheel Kick!! It nails TLS in the head, causing him to fall into the ropes. He bounces off the ropes as Dawson, displaying incredible quickness and agility, leaps into the air and kicks TLS in the face with a Standing Dropkick!! TLS falls through the ropes, slamming into the side of The Cube. The fans give Dawson a hearty round of applause for his display of athleticism~
Smith: No doubt, if this match boils down to athleticism, Dawson has the advantage.
Hood: Yea, I doubt any of those Wreslter’s Anonymous fuckheads could pull that shit off. Hell, I have it on good authority that most of them can barely perform a leg sweep.
Smith: Where did you hear that?
Hood: My sources, Smith...my sources.
Smith: Whatever, you have no sources
~Dawson walks over to TLS, who is wedged against the Cube and he slams his foot into the side of the head of TLS, pressing it against the Cube. He removes his foot and grabs TLS by the hair, forcing him to a standing position, on the other side of the ropes. Dawson goes for a suplex, but the legs of TLS keep hitting the Cube, so he yanks him through the ropes and into the ring. He goes for his suplex again...this time, TLS blocks it and kicks Dawson in the gut, instantly dropping him to the mat with an Implant DDT!! TLS rolls Dawson over and he goes for a pin, Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Quick pin attempt by The Lost Soul that nearly paid off!
Hood: Fucking DDTs man, they come out of nowhere.
Smith: Yes, just like that soccer ball which flew across our announce table, randomly, moments ago.
Hood: Fucking Brazilians
~TLS returns to his feet and he backs up against the ropes as Dawson is still lying on his back. TLS leans against the ropes, springs forward, walks up to Dawson and he moves to deliver a knee into Dawson’s face. Dawson rolls away, causing the knee of TLS to slam into the mat. Dawson quickly springs to his feet as TLS is on one knee, grimacing in pain. Dawson bounces off the ropes and he drills his knee into the temple of TLS!! TLS falls over, onto his back. Dawson rushes to the nearest corner, pulling himself to the top rope, he instantly leaps off with a flying elbow across the chest of TLS!! Dawson goes for a quick pin of his own~
1!
2!
Kick Out!
Smith: Nice pin attempt by Dawson, he’s finally got the pace of this match to his liking.
Hood: Lots of knees and stuff...aren’t they worried they might tear an ACL or something?
Smith: I guess they assume the knee bone is harder than the head bone.
Hood: Or skull
Smith: Erm, uhm, yes...skull, not head bone, my bad
Hood: Fucking amateur
~Dawson doesn’t argue with the count, focusing on TLS instead. He pulls TLS to his feet and whips him into the nearest corner, TLS slams hard. Dawson rushes in and lifts a knee underneath the chin of TLS. Dawson then underhooks TLS, lifts him up and drops him in the middle of the ring with an underhook piledriver!! TLS goes limp as Dawson grabs his legs...the crowd rises in anticipation with Dawson playing to them a bit. He then locks in a Figure Four (Lucky 13) and falls back, applying tremendous pressure to the legs of TLS. TLS writhes about, attempting to break the hold, showing an extreme amount of discomfort from the pressure being applied. Scruff doesn’t ask for a submission because, well, one can’t be attained at this juncture~
Smith: Lucky 13!! This is Dawson’s patented finisher!
Hood: Yea, but he can’t fucking submit that painted freak just yet...stupid waste of a move
Smith: Not necessarily, he’s softening TLS up. Think about it, weakened legs make kicking out that much tougher...PLUS if he does score the pinfall, TLS will already be primed for a submission in the second phase of this match.
Hood: For fucks sake, man...you’re talking about planning ahead. Ashe Dawson has neck tattoos.
Smith: So?
Hood: PEOPLE WITH NECK TATTOOS DON’T PLAN AHEAD
~TLS looks to his right and sees the ropes within arm’s reach. He extends his right arm and grasps the bottom rope!! Scruff comes in and forces a release, Dawson complies without any complaints. He pops back to his feet as TLS is staggering to his feet with wobbly legs, using the ropes as leverage. Dawson charges in, going for a spear, but TLS moves and Dawson’s head SMACKS into The Cube!! TLS rolls Dawson up, Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: He barely kicked out of that one!
Hood: That fucking Cube, man...Dawson was like a bird there, flying into glass
Smith: Nice analogy
Hood: You bet your ass
~TLS is back to his feet, shakily. He bends his knees, as they are still feeling the after effects of Lucky 13. Dawson slowly rises to his, holding his forehead in pain. TLS sneaks up behind Dawson and hooks him for a Reverse DDT! Dawson, though, fights it off, as TLS maintains his grip. Dawson, displaying incredible strength, lifts TLS up as he returns to a standing position. TLS wiggles, trying to escape, but Dawson has him over his shoulder...he sprints towards the nearest corner, dropping TLS with Snake Eyes onto the top turnbuckle. Stunned, TLS turns around, staggering toward Dawson. Dawson quickly hooks him for a Small Package as Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
3!!!!
Smith: He did it!! Dawson pinned TLS! He’s won the first leg of Three Stages of Escalation!
Hood: Wow, a fucking Small Package...did not see that coming.
Smith: Indeed!
~The crowd erupts at the sound of three, clearly behind Dawson. TLS kicks out milliseconds after Scruff’s hand hits the mat for the third time. He rolls over and glares at Scruff, thinking the count was fast. Dawson is seated behind him, smiling, proud of his efforts. He then grabs the legs of TLS and reaches his feet, flipping TLS onto his back. TLS kicks his legs wildly, but Dawson has too good of a grip. He instantly re-applies Lucky 13 before falling back on the mat, applying tons of pressure. The crowd is going insane, sensing Dawson has this match won. Scruff, this time, asks TLS if he wants to submit~
Smith: Lucky 13!! Holy cow, this one could be over in the blink of an eye!!
Hood: You’re not fucking kidding, Dawson isn’t wasting any time...Mr. Tattoo Guy saw an opportunity and took it.
Smith: Surprising that The Lost Soul would be so unaware of his surroundings there.
Hood: I guess that’s what happens when you spend all your time at some broke ass Wrestler’s Anonymous Meeting.
Smith: Indeed
~TLS wiggles his body against the canvas, inching closer to the ropes. He finally reaches the ropes, grabbing the bottom rope. Scruff demands a break, but Dawson holds on, continuing to apply pressure. Scruff counts and reaches five...he then realizes there are no DQs and just stands there, frozen. Dawson shoves forward with his legs, shoving TLS off the side of the ring, in between The Cube and the ring apron. TLS is hanging with his hair touching the metal awning that surrounds the ring. He yells out in pain as this applies more pressure than many could bear on his legs and knees. Dawson places his palms on the mat and he lifts up, applying even more pressure as Scruff slides out of the ring and asks a hanging TLS if he wants to quit...TLS continues to shake his head ‘no’~
Smith: I can’t imagine the unimaginable pain that must be running through his legs right now.
Hood: I guess that’s why it’s called unimaginable pain
Smith: Right...and Scruff suddenly realized he can’t DQ Ashe Dawson
Hood: Nice to see Dawson growing something resembling a backbone...break that clown’s legs...break them!
Smith: Rude!
~TLS grabs the cloth hanging from the apron with the ‘Revenge’ logo on the side. He tries using it at leverage, but to no avail. With it pulled up, he spots something. TLS reaches behind the cloth and is able to get his hands on a steel chair! TLS displays tremendous abdominal strength in sitting up with his upper torso hanging off the apron and he drills Dawson in the legs with the chair! Dawson yells in pain! TLS hits his legs again and again and again until Dawson releases Lucky 13! Unfortunately for TLS, this sends him crashing down onto the metal awning, landing on the back of his head and neck! TLS drops the chair and he kind of curls up, holding the back of his neck and head in pain while Dawson limps around the ring on his damaged legs~
Smith: The wily veteran found a way to get out of what was soon to be a submission and victory for Ashe Dawson.
Hood: I wonder if that’s the same chair from the Birthday Party he worked the other day.
Smith: Wow, you actually watched a promo...I’m impressed.
Hood: Well, when someone told me a sadistic clown was making penis shaped balloons and beating people with chairs at a kid’s birthday party...ya know, I just had to tune in.
Smith: Indeed!
~TLS hasn’t moved an inch since he fell, giving Scruff a sense of concern over his well being after the nasty fall. Lying on his left side, the right hand of TLS is motionless atop the steel chair. Dawson finally reaches a decision that his legs are workable enough to continue applying Lucky 13. He approaches the ropes and politely moves Scruff aside. He leans through the middle rope and reaches for TLS...as he does, the hand of TLS suddenly grips the chair as he springs to action and drills Dawson in the head with the metallic piece of furniture! Dawson falls back on his ass, blinking his eyes. TLS slides into the ring, with the chair in his hands, he gets to his feet and charges for the ropes, he bounces off...runs past Dawson, bounces off the ropes again and does a baseball slide drop kick with the chair at the ends of his feet, kicking it into Dawson’s face!!! Dawson falls back, motionless as the TLS contingent amongst the Brazilians begin chanting his initials~
Smith: And there’s our first ‘TLS’ chant of the evening.
Hood: Oh, whew...I thought they were chanting something about soccer.
Smith: No, not this time
~TLS pulls Dawson up, who is out on his feet. TLS delivers a short elbow to the chin of Dawson, twirling him around with his back now facing TLS. TLS hops on his back and applies a sleeper hold! Dawson throws his arms around, gasping for air as TLS tries to wrap his legs around the waist of Dawson, to really lock in the hold. Dawson fights the scissor hold off as he staggers backwards and crashes into a corner, crushing TLS against the turnbuckles. TLS holds on, though, continuing his attempt at leg scissors to lock the hold in. Dawson falls back again, this time TLS releases as Dawson stumbles towards the middle of the ring. TLS rushes Dawson, hopping on his back again, locking the sleeper hold in once more. This time, he is able to get his legs wrapped around Dawson’s waist as the lights in Dawson’s eyes are beginning to dim. With a last ditch effort, he falls back into the nearest corner. Instead of simply crushing TLS against the turnbuckles, his entire body collapses, causing the back of TLS’ head to whiplash into the second turnbuckle!! TLS releases the hold and goes limp, lying on the mat with his head positioned against the bottom turnbuckle. Dawson crawls into the middle of the ring, gasping for air~
Smith: TLS was attempting to lock in his alternate finisher there...a Sleeper Hold with Leg Scissors.
Hood: Fucking guy is determined...I mean, Ashe Dawson only played pinball with that clown’s head like fifty times...yet he kept coming back.
Smith: That’s how a wrestler becomes champion
Hood: Yea, while moonlighting as a birthday clown.
~With his back to TLS, Dawson slowly reaches his feet. TLS comes to and grabs the middle rope, yanking himself up. He approaches Dawson rapidly, going for another attempted sleeper. Dawson, though, showing great instincts, senses TLS coming and delivers a back thrust kick into the abdomen of TLS. TLS doubles over...Dawson turns around and he grabs the legs of TLS, taking him off his feet. He attempts to lock Lucky 13 in, but TLS fights it off, kicking him away. Frustrated, Dawson falls back, with the legs of TLS under his arms. He catapults TLS through the air and into the side the Cube!! The face of TLS smashes loudly into the Cube as he staggers back. Dawson, on all fours, crawls behind TLS and clips the back of his knee!! TLS falls to the ground, holding his damaged leg in pain~
Smith: Ashe Dawson is so close to winning this! The legs of TLS have got to be in terrible shape after all those Lucky 13’s.
Hood: Yea, all he has to do is tap out and Dawson wins this thing...we won’t even have to enter into the Last Man Standing phase of this contest.
Smith: Indeed!
~Dawson returns to his feet and stalks a wounded TLS. TLS rolls onto his back, seeing Dawson approaching. He looks down at his legs, knowing they can’t take anymore punishment via Lucky 13. He crawls away from him, backwards. The back of his head hits against the ropes as he has nowhere else to go. Dawson reaches down, attempting to grab the legs of TLS. He kicks wildly at Dawson. Dawson grabs one leg. He goes for the second. TLS reaches back, holding onto the ropes and climbing through and up them. Dawson grabs the second leg of TLS. The upper torso of TLS is through the ropes with his head and neck above the top rope. Dawson is bent over, with both legs in his grasp. TLS reaches out and he grabs the ears of Dawson, yanking him closer. TLS then bites the top of Dawson’s head!! Dawson instantly releases both legs of TLS, staggering into the middle of the ring, holding the top of his head in pain~
Smith: Desperate times call for cannibalistic tendencies, apparently
Hood: Not sure what the fuck that means...but he just fucking bit the guy!
Smith: Precisely
~Dawson places his palm on top of his head before bringing it in front of his face. There’s a bit of blood, but nothing traumatic. His back is to TLS...TLS quickly pulls the rest of his body onto the apron before he hops on the top rope. He winces, pain running through his damaged legs. Sucking up every ounce of energy he has in his lower appendages, TLS leaps off and he lands on the back of Dawson, almost tackling him front first to the mat! TLS quickly locks in a Sleeper with a Scissor hold!! Dawson tries fighting it off, but they are in the middle of the ring with nowhere to go. Scruff asks Dawson if he wants to quit. Dawson says no. The lights in Dawson’s eyes are fading. His arms go limp. Scruff picks up his arm, it slams into the mat. He does it again, it hits the mat a second time. Scruff signals for one last chance for Dawson to show signs of life. He lifts the arm up and for a third time it thumps into the mat! Scruff signals towards Belvedere~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen, Ashe Dawson was unable to respond to Referee Scruff McDougal’s inspection...therefore, TLS has been awarded the submission portion of this match! That means The Lost Soul and Ashe Dawson are tied at one a piece...we now move into the Last Man Standing portion of this contest!!
~The crowd goes wild as Scruff backs away. TLS maintains his old, choking Dawson deeper and deeper. Dawson has yet to move as, for all we know, he may be dead. Scruff scratches his head, wondering if he should intervene~
Smith: Here we go, the third and final portion of this match...and, well, things look terrible for Ashe Dawson.
Hood: Yea, at this rate, he’s certain to be ASHES very soon...ha ha ha ha
Smith: Terrible, terrible joke
~TLS has yet to let go, possibly strangling a corpse at this point. Finally, Scruff taps TLS on the shoulder, garnering his attention. TLS slowly releases the hold and he checks the vital signs of Dawson. TLS smiles and raises his arms in victory. He backs away into a corner and leans into it, relaxing and watching as Scruff administers the mandatory ten count~
Smith: Here we go, Hood...this one could be over.
Hood: Unless this is this walking fucking dead, he ain’t getting up
Smith: Oh, I love that show!
1!
2!
3!
4!
~Dawson’s body spasms as he coughs, the first signs of life he’s shown in awhile~
5!
6!
7!
~Dawson rolls onto his belly and does a very weak attempted push up. Very reminiscent of Steve Rogers before, well, the transformation...his actions cause TLS to stand upright, growing unsure that his efforts were enough~
Smith: Three seconds away from victory, very much like a pinfall!
Hood: Wow, you can add, good job
Smith: Leave me alone!
8!
Smith: Remember, folks, Dawson has to have the bottom of one foot on the mat to be declared standing. All fours or kneeling won’t get it done.
~Staring at the mat, Dawson moves to put his foot on the mat, bringing his body to one knee. TLS, seeing it is a foregone conclusion, sprints in and he drills a knee into the side of Dawson’s head!!! Dawson flops over onto his back as Scruff ceases the count. TLS then goes to his knees and he starts to choke Dawson, continuing his efforts in putting Ashe to sleep~
Smith: I guess TLS saw what we all assumed to be true, Ashe Dawson was going to reach his feet before the count of ten.
Hood: While I’m no fan of neck tattoos, I’ll give Dawson some credit...he’s one tough mother fucker.
Smith: Yea and now he’s being strangled for it.
Hood: Nah man, TLS isn’t strangling him, he’s trying to wash all that ink off his neck.
Smith: NO HE’S NOT!!
~In desperation mode, Dawson reaches up and he thumbs TLS in the eye! TLS slaps his hand away, continuing to choke. Dawson reaches up again, sticking his thumb in the socket of TLS’s other eye. This time, he digs in there, ripping at the eye until TLS releases the choke. TLS chops down on the arm of Dawson, forcing him to cease his socket digging. TLS slides back, holding his eye in pain as Dawson rolls over. He spots the chair. TLS gets to his feet, vision blurred. Dawson crawls for the chair, obtaining it. TLS stands over Dawson and bends over to grab his leg...Dawson rolls over and he cracks TLS in the head with the chair!! TLS falls against the ropes as Dawson quickly gets to his feet. TLS ricochets off the ropes as Dawson drills him in the head with the chair!! TLS falls to the ground as Dawson repeatedly nails him in the head with the chair~
Smith: The anger within Ashe Dawson has been unleashed!
Hood: And TLS is apparently wearing pink face paint!
Smith: Well, red and white do make pink, yes
Hood: Fucking right they do...the only time pink is appropriate on a man, if you ask me
Smith: Only real men wear pink!
Hood: Ha, yea, keep telling yourself that
~TLS has indeed been busted open at the top of his forehead. The blood is trickling down his head, mixing in with his white face paint to create an offbeat shade of pink. Dawson heads for the nearest corner with the chair firmly in his grasp. He climbs to the top and places the chair in both hands...he leaps off and, in mid air, places the chair under his left leg, crushing it into the face of TLS with a Guillotine Leg Drop!!! TLS goes limp as Ashe informs Scruff to administer a ten count~
Smith: Here we go, now Ashe Dawson stands back, hoping Scruff can reach ten.
Hood: Ten is such a high number, why can’t we make it one or maybe two?
Smith: That would be pointless! Might as well just have them pin each other.
Hood: You’d like that, wouldn’t you
Smith: Scuse me?
Hood: Extra scenarios where men climb on top of one another.
Smith: You know, I’m not the only one getting paid to call athletic encounters featuring half naked men grabbing and grasping onto one another here...
Hood: Solid point
1!
2!
3!
4!
~TLS opens his eyes widely, having trouble focusing from the punishment both his head and eyes have suffered recently. He stares into the sky as Scruff continues to count~
5!
6!
7!
~TLS rolls over and quickly climbs to his feet, breaking the count. He staggers around, out on his feet. Dawson taps the top of the chair against the mat, preparing for a killshot. TLS turns around, facing Dawson...Dawson takes a homerun type swing, but TLS ducks!! Dawson taggers forward, all his momentum taking him near the ropes with the chair slamming into the Cube! He turns around and is greeted by a clothesline from TLS! The back of his head slams into The Cube, causing him to drop the chair. TLS quickly, seamlessly and efficiently drops Dawson with an Implant DDT onto the chair!! The TLS fans rise to the occasion, cheering him on as the Ashe Dawson fans boo~
Smith: Great move by The Lost Soul! Perhaps Dawson is out now?
Hood: Nah, that was only a DDT into a Steel Chair..fucking child’s play
Smith: Ooohhh...Chucky still haunts my dreams
Hood: Those movies piss me off...JUST KICK THE DAMN THING...it’s only a fucking doll, man
Smith: But he had a knife
Hood: Okay, so maybe your ankle gets lacerated, big fucking deal
~Sitting up, TLS checks the wound at the top of his head...he wipes the blood from his hand on the mat, leaving a red streak. He grabs Dawson by the hair before Scruff can administer a count. He pulls Dawson to his feet and drags him into the nearest corner. He looks over the ropes and notices they are near the side of the Cube which provides room to spill out onto the metal awning. TLS lifts Dawson up onto the top turnbuckle before he climbs to the second rope. Dawson, sensing something terrible looming, punches TLS in the head. TLS elbows Dawson back, causing him to lean back. TLS reaches the top rope and he pulls Dawson up. Dawson, fighting for his life in the match, punches TLS again. TLS punches back. The two begin to brawl on the top rope, showing tremendous balance~
Smith: Excellent footwork by TLS and Dawson...I’m impressed!
Hood: This isn’t fucking ballet...drop someone on their head!
Smith: The match hangs in the balance, literally...the wrong fall from there could end it for either competitor!
Hood: Sure
~TLS knees Dawson in the gut, gaining an advantage. He hooks Dawson for an attempted powerbomb. Dawson, though, punches TLS in his weakened legs. TLS releases his grip around Dawson’s waist and staggers back, leaning against The Cube, maintaining his stance on the top rope. Dawson stands up right and he balances himself before throwing a sharp kick into the knee of TLS. TLS lifts his leg up, leaning his side against the Cube to keep from falling. Dawson chops TLS in the throat. TLS bends over, gasping for air. Dawson hooks the head of TLS, looking like he’s going for a suplex. He looks over his shoulder at the metal awning behind him...the crowd rises in anticipation~
Smith: Oh my gosh!! He’s going to suplex TLS from the top rope onto the metal awning!
Hood: Now this is what I’m talking about!!
Smith: This will surely end it!
~Dawson lifts TLS up as the crowd rises to their feet. TLS wiggles his legs and he uses the slightly stronger knee to strike Dawson in the head. Dawson’s trip loosens as TLS flips over and lands on his feet, on the apron with his back to the ring post. He reaches up, grabs the legs of Dawson and rips him from the top, jumping from the ring apron and he DRIVES the back of Dawson’s head into the metal awning with a Powerbomb!!! The entire ring shakes from impact as part of the awning breaks away from the ring. The crowd gasps in horror as if the other side comes undone, they’d fall all the way down, off the cliff. TLS reaches over and grabs the ring apron for support as Dawson’s body is folded up. The fans chant ‘Holy Shit’ in Brazilian~
Smith: I can’t believe it!! Tremendous impact, Ashe Dawson is probably concussed...or, maybe worse!
Hood: Aww man, that metal awning ALMOST detached...how cool would that have been??
Smith: Not very cool, seeing as we’d probably have a no contest
Hood: Bleh, whatever...I just want to see someone fall all the way down!
~TLS reaches his feet on the awning, finding it a bit shaky. He grabs his left shoulder in pain after executing the highly dangerous move. He reaches over and pulls Dawson to his feet. He feels the awning giving way...he quickly rolls Dawson into the ring and slides in after him. Right after he does, the awning breaks away and falls all the way down into the water below as the crowd, displaying their insane side, cheers wildly. TLS looks down and shakes his head. He then lifts Dawson up as Scruff seems shocked~
Smith: What is he doing? This thing is over...let Scruff count to ten!
Hood: Exclamation point, Smith...just like that metal awning breaking away
Smith: Oh, yea...we’re probably going to have to fix that before our next Cube match
Hood: Aww man, why does everyone always have to ruin the fun
Smith: I don’t know, probably has something to do with codes, ethics and other legalities which allow us to produce wrestling.
Hood: Blah blah blah
~TLS quickly drops Dawson in the middle of the ring with a Reverse DDT before rushing over to the nearest corner. He scales to the top, grabbing his leg in pain. He sucks up the pain and leaps off with a Somersault Leg Drop onto Dawson (Souled Out)!!! The fans cheer the impressive display of athleticism as TLS drags himself away, clutching his knee in pain. Scruff begins the count~
1!
2!
3!
4!
5!
6!
Smith: This is probably it...I don’t see Dawson moving!
Hood: His hair just blew in the breeze!!
Smith: THAT’S NOT MOVING
7!
8!
~Suddenly, Dawson begins to stir, quickly pushing into an all fours position. TLS, seated in the corner, watches as his eyes widen with shock~
Smith: You’ve got to be kidding me!!
Hood: Holy shit, Dawson is a beast!
9!
~Dawson moves to get his foot on the mat but he’s endured too much. His body expires as he falls to the mat, unconscious~
10!!!!
~The bell rings as Scruff helps TLS to his feet and raises his arm in victory~
Belvedere: Here is your winner...AND THE NEW OCW ASCENSION CHAMPION...THE LOST SOUL!!!!!
Smith: He did it!! The Lost Soul did it! This may very well be the first gold he’s ever won in OCW!
Hood: What a fucking match, man...Dawson, that guy is legit. And, The Lost Soul...clown faced mother fucker...he’s okay, in my book...even if he wears paint on his face.
Smith: An honor I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to have received.
~Belvedere enters the ring, handing the Ascension Title to Scruff who hands it to TLS. TLS takes it and refuses aid in exiting. He hops out of the ring and stumbles his way down the ramp towards the edge of the cliff. He steps back on land and heads to the back, behind the partition. Medics, meanwhile, rush into the ring to attend Ashe Dawson~
Smith: Let’s all hope Ashe Dawson is okay
Hood: I hope he’s got a steel spine, because he damn sure used his neck to dislodge that metal awning and that shit was bolted down TIGHT
Smith: Indeed!
Hood: You know, I think I’ve made up my mind...I like TLS more than Ashe Dawson
Smith: Why’s that?
Hood: He uses temporary paint...Dawson’s ink is for life. That’s such a terrible life decision, man...at least TLS can take a shower and return to looking kind of normal...maybe tonight he can take off that paint and pick up some hot Brazilian chicks. You know, they’ll be all like ‘oh, hey, you don’t have any paint on you, we really want to fuck you’...meanwhile, Dawson...if he’s not crippled up, will walk up to a girl with all that ink on him and they’ll be like, ‘sorry inkmaster, I don’t do charity’...so, ya know, yea, I like TLS better.
Smith: You are insane...let’s head backstage.
~Backstage, we spot Who’Re who is now in a pair of jeans and a ‘Revenge’ t-shirt. She is holding a contract up in front of the camera~
Who’Re: Thanks, Smith...OCW fans, as you can see I’m holding a contract that was written up earlier today. It was a binding agreement for the Tag Team Champions to face the Danger Boiz in March. I’m being told, after tonight’s Lockwood invasion, that all plans for the Tag Team Titles have been put on hold.
~Who’Re places the contract into a nearby trash can~
Who’Re: I’ve also been informed that the official result of tonight’s Tag Team match has been deemed a ‘No Contest’ and that the tag titles remain vacant...that is, if they can be found.
~Who’Re takes in a deep breath, uttering something about colors and lighting and a dress before returning her focus to the camera~
Who’Re: So, does this mean the tag division is dead? Have the Lockwoods killed one of OCW’s oldest and proudest divisions? If not, are the Danger Boiz still in line for a shot...where does this leave Awe.Some...and, most importantly, what does Dean do to combat the Lockwoods? These questions, I’m sure, will be answered as soon as President Dean recovers from the concussion he suffered earlier tonight at the hands of Ian Bishop...now, back to ringside.
~We cut back to Smith and Hood~
Smith: Thank you for that terrific reporting, Ho-Ray. It certainly seems as though the Lockwoods have made a terrible mess of the tag division.
Hood: I don’t know why everyone is so up in arms over this shit...it’s not like the tag division was ever that great to begin with. I know you like to cite Perfectly Marvelous, Sex and Violence and Extremely Dangerous...
Smith: They are legends
Hood: How about these names...Mississippi Mud...Zeus and fucking Hades...they were tag champs too, ya know.
Smith: Well, they can’t all be winners
~The lights around the Cube go out. A single chord of a guitar is heard as "In Time" by Mark Collie starts to play. Slowly the ring fills with a dark gold light. On the OCWTron a figure can be seen walking through the backstage area. He is wearing a black trench coat and has a hood covering his head. The camera follows him as he walks slowly towards the curtain area.
I can hear what you're thinkin'
And in time all things shall pass away
~Just as the last line is sung, the lights go back out. A single white spotlight shines at the ramp entrance as the figure walks out with his head down. Then, the song Reach Out by Scott Stapp starts to play and the figure rips off his trench coat to reveal Brandon Gateman. He laughs at the crowd as he walks down the ramp towards the ring. He is mocking the fans as he slowly steps up the stairs into the ring. The crowd is mixed with emotions. He goes to the corner ring post, gets on top and raises his arms out wide as gold pyro falls down over him. He grabs a mic from the camera guy and stands in the middle of the ring~
"He's heeeeeeerrrrrrreeeee!"
~Brandon laughs at his own cockiness. He throws the mic back on the floor next to ring. He goes back outside the ring and walks back up to the ramp. Leaving the fans wondering what is going to happen next~
Smith: Hood!! That was Brandon Gateman...former Hardcore Champion!
Hood: Yes, I can fucking see that...but what does he want? Who is he after?
Smith: I have no idea ,he didn’t say
Hood: Well, he’s apparently been signed because security certainly let him just waltz into the ring to make an announcement...at least, I hope he’s signed...you know, it wouldn’t surprise me either way, those guys are fucking useless.
Smith: I’m sure he’s signed, Brandon Gateman was one of the top up and comers from a year ago and, considering the Savage Championship is up next...the timing seems to indicate that the former Hardcore Champion may, in fact, have his sights set on...
Hood: Proving himself worthy by tossing his hat into the ring for the Oh Shit Contract next month?
Smith: You are truly terrible at your job...folks, Brandon Gateman is back and I have a sneaking suspicion he’s going to be watching our next match with great intensity. Let’s toss it over to the amphitheater for the final match taking place over there this evening.
~Our feed cuts to the live amphitheatre as Jones and Killface are seated at their announce table with Brother D passed out from pain and, possibly blood loss. The crowd is seated anxiously awaiting what comes next~
Jones: Welcome back for our final match of the evening inside this amphitheatre...Killface, are you ready?
Killface: Yes, I do believe that I am
Jones: Terrific, let’s go down to ringside
All your doubts and fears
And if you look in my eyes in time you'll find,
The reason I'm here
In time you may come back someday.
To live once more
To die once more
But in time your time will be no more
House of Mirrors Match
”Ripper” Danny B (0 pts) vs. PerZag (0 pts)
Predator: Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now time for the House of Mirrors Match!!!!
~The crowd leaps to their feet, cheering loudly as the giant elimination chamber-like structure descends around the ring. Instead of four pods, it features six. Each pod is completely incased, hiding what’s inside. The only way in is through a mirror that must be broken~
Predator: The rules are simple, behind one of the mirrors resides the OCW Savage Championship...whoever is the first wrestler to find the Savage Title and fully escape the pod and enter into the ring with the title in their grasp will be declared the OCW Savage Champion!!!
~The crowd gives another resounding ovation. The lights of the amphitheatre go out. All that is seen is a small glow of light from the entrance ramp. ‘Eye Of The Tiger’ by Survivor starts to play over the PA system. A hooded figure walks on to the entrance ramp. The lights come back on as the hooded figure stands still on the stage. The hooded figure walks down to the ring slowly. He gets into the house of mirrors chamber and stands in the centre of the ring. He slowly removes the hood and shows his hideous scars throughout the arena. 'Eye Of The Tiger' by Survivor stops playing as PerZag walks over to a corner in the ring and crouches down near it~
Predator: Introducing first, from Benalla, standing 6’5 and weighing in at 216lbs...PerZag!!!
~Predator reaches over and begins to stroke PerZag’s blonde hair. PerZag clutches Predator by the throat and throws him back. Predator stumbles into the corner, grabbing his throat in pain before composing himself and keeping a safe distance from PerZag. “Nightfall” by Xandria hit, and the crowd becomes pumped for the arrival of a former Central and Tag Team champion and Hall of famer. The crowd watches the entrance, waiting for someone to burst through the curtain. When no one comes through, but the music keeps playing, so the crowd look around themselves, maybe waiting for someone to walk down through the audience. Confusion sets in when no one comes through. Chatter starts to break out between the fans, that is until eyes start aiming towards the sky. A helicopter comes into view, it hovers above the amphitheatre, and soon the crowd breaks into a frenzy as the chopper moves, and what is left in its place is a figure falling from the sky~
Predator: Introducing his opponent/ first, from Brighton, England, weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, OCW Hall of Famer, “The Ripper” Danny B!
~The frenzy continues as the figure becomes larger and larger, and as the face of Danny B just about becomes visible, a parachute opens, with the ‘Fear The Reaper’ logo painted across the canopy. Danny controls the descent, landing in the crowd. Danny drops the chute, and makes his way towards the chamber through the crowd. He jumps over the barricade, and before he climbs into the chamber, Danny collects a microphone~
Danny: Let me introduce myself properly here. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the House of mirrors match. Regardless of who that other wanker is, here is the main attraction of this show.
Does that sound arrogant? Well, yes, maybe it does. But here we are right now, looking ahead we have a traditional singles match, in OCW of all places, starring two of the most overrated talents to ever come into OCW, and we have a dumpster match, featuring one has been and one whale, and we have the OCW Championship match, consisting of one of the overrated jackasses mentioned earlier, and a champion, that although pretty damn good, is no Danny B. So here we are with the TRUE main event of this evening!
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, Crianças of all ages, this is the house of mirrors match, the match you have all been waiting for! Introducing this competitor, from the Greatest City in Great Britain, weighing in at a lean and trim two hundred and ten pounds, the legend, the myth, the greatest Central champion in the history of this lousy company, and the only true tag team champion in the past ten years, the most deserving Hall of Famer of all time. The Ripper, The Demon, The Golden Warrior, DANNY MOTHERFUCKING B!
~And with that, Danny drops the mic and heads into the chamber~
~Predator simply can’t resist Danny B’s new look, rushing up and grabbing his ass. Danny B spins around with an elbow, catching Predator in the temple and knocking him out. OCW medics rush in and drag a lifeless Predator from the ring. The chamber is locked with Gruff ready to ref the action as the bell sounds...the crowd rises to their feet, excited for what is undoubtedly going to be an excellent match~
Jones: Folks, this is an OCW original...the House of Mirrors Match hasn’t been seen since Resurrection, nearly one year ago when Brianna Casablancas and Ian Bishop battled in an epic, blood lust encounter for the Central Championship.
Killface: Sounds lovely, I’ll have to watch a tape of it sometime
Jones: You mean you didn’t review that match to prepare for tonight?
Killface: No, I don’t own a television. Which reminds me, can I borrow your television?
Jones: Normally, I’d say no...but considering the fact you’re ageless and abnormally strong...sure.
~Danny and PerZag meet in the center of the ring with a stare down taking place. Neither man seems willing to strike the first blow. Camera bulbs flash as the Brazilian crowd is taking every opportunity they can to capture the moment. Finally, Danny B sticks his index finger out and presses it into PerZag’s chest. He pushes forward, shoving PerZag’s right shoulder back ever so slightly. Out of nowhere, PerZag explodes with lefts and rights, pounding his fists into Danny’s head. Danny’s blonde hair flies through the air as he falls into the ropes, attempting to cover up. He ducks between the top and middle rope as Gruff calls for a break. PerZag takes a few steps back. With some distance between the two, Danny suddenly leaps into the air, taking PerZag to the mat with a Lou Thesz Press!! He applies a full mount on PerZag and reigns down several vicious elbows with PerZag absorbing the brunt of the punishment~
Jones: Intriguing start to this one as Danny showed a hint of arrogance, only to have PerZag throw it back in his face.
Killface: PerZag’s face reminds me of the Barbarian warriors
Jones: Which barbarian warriors?
Killface: After awhile, they all kind of blend together
Jones: Well, thanks for that history lesson
~PerZag is finally able to roll onto his stomach as his face took several vicious elbows. Danny adjusts, quickly locking in a Camel Clutch! He rears back, yanking on PerZag’s head and neck. PerZag grimaces in pain as he tries fighting through it. He reaches his knees and locks his arms around Danny’s legs. On his feet, PerZag finds his balance to be less than optimal, so he walks back as quickly as he can toward a corner before falling down...in the process, he sandwiches Danny in between his body and the turnbuckles! Danny releases his hold and sits in the corner, holding the back of his head in pain. PerZag crawls across the ring and quickly returns to his feet, standing in the opposite corner. He sprints toward Danny and goes for a baseball slide drop kicl...Danny rolls away, onto the metal awning surrounding the ring. PerZag lands on the mat hard and slides underneath the bottom turnbuckle with his legs ramming into the steel ring post~
Jones: Neither opponent has been able to attain a clear advantage
Killface: A chess match going on right in front of us. Rook versus Rook, Knight versus Knight...etc versus etc!
Jones: Etc?
Killface: It sounded more efficient than naming all the other pieces.
Jones: Ah, smart move
~Danny crawls over behind the post and grabs PerZag’s legs. He splits them apart with the post in between. PerZag is lying on his stomach as Danny yanks as hard as he can, crotching PerZag into the post!! PerZag yells in pain with his face down on the mat. Danny then turns his back to the post, places both legs under his arms and he leans back, against the post with a Boston Crab, bending PerZag’s legs back with the post in between him and PerZag! PerZag yells out in pain as Gruff stands by watching~
Jones: Unique way to apply a Boston Crab...I’ve got to say, a match this dangerous and early on we’ve seen two submissions.
Killface: Nothing makes you feel like a man more than forcing a fellow combatant to quit.
Jones: Yes, but you can’t quit in this match
Killface: So, you’re telling me that if Scarface or Ripperman decided to exit that contraption, leave the arena and fly back to America, the match would still be ongoing?
Jones: Umm, well, I...I...I don’t know, I guess not
Killface: So they can quit
Jones: Technically I suppose but...ugh, just call the match, please...Mr. Face.
Killface: Excuse me, I’m simply trying to establish the rules in which this match is governed to enhance my announcing abilities.
~PerZag reaches back with his arm, grabbing the ropes. His back is arched tremendously...he pulls back even further, rising his upper torso to almost ear level with Danny. Danny looks over his shoulder, feeling PerZag rising. PerZag’s face is in tremendous pain as he holds onto the top rope with one hand and reaches back with the other, clutching the blonde hair of Danny B. He then releases his trip on the top rope while maintaining a hand full of Danny’s hair...his body snaps down to the mat and, as a result, Danny’s head slings back, ‘pinging’ against the steel ring post!! Danny instantly releases the hold as he falls forward, on his knees, holding the back of his head in pain~
Jones: PerZag displaying tremendous flexibility right there
Killface: I wonder if he practices yogurt
Jones: How does one practice yogurt?
Killface: You know, that art of loosening ones muscles while increasing ones flexibility
Jones: Ohhhh, you mean yoga
Jones: Hmm, wonder where I got yogurt from
~Killface eats a spoonful of Yoplait as the match continues. Danny places his hands palm down, positioning his body on all fours. PerZag pops to his feet and turns around, facing the corner. He sees Danny B on the other side. PerZag climbs to the top turnbuckle and he leaps off, clearing the post and coming down on Danny B with a fameasser!! Danny’ s face slams into the metal awning as he rolls around, holding it in pain. PerZag, meanwhile grabs the thigh of his left leg, holding it in pain from the impact it suffered due to the high impact drop~
Jones: What a move!! Every time I watch PerZag wrestle, I always underestimate his athleticism...extremely agile for a man his size.
Killface: He cleared that tall, metal object with ease. Reminded me of the ancient japanese ninjas when they would run around, committing all kinds of crimes.
Jones: Foot soldiers?
Killface: They had feet, yes...but they were ninjas, not soldiers.
Jones: You really need to brush up on your pop culture knowledge.
~PerZag grabs the chain linked side of the chamber and pulls himself to a standing position. He flips his head back, removing the blonde hair from his scarred face. Looking down, he sees Danny lying on his stomach with the side of his face pressed against the metal awning. PerZag glances at one of the mirrors and then back at Danny...he snatches Danny by the hair and tosses him head first at the mirror!! Danny slams into the mirror, but it doesn’t break! He winds up with his back smacking into the glass and landing on his head before falling back onto his stomach. PerZag shakes his head, angry at the sturdiness of the mirror. He lifts Danny up and positions him against the mirror, taking a few steps back. He charges in, but Danny goes to his knees and hooks PerZag with a drop toe hold!! PerZag falls face first into the mirror, completely shattering it!! The fans cringe in pain~
Jones: I think I can safely say that’s the most hardcore drop toe hold ever.
Killface: The scarred man is probably used to shattered mirrors.
Jones: Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?
Killface: I can kill you with my thumb
Jones: ....ehehehe...you have a super sharp wit, Mr Face
~PerZag rolls away from the shattered mirror, back into the ring, holding his face in pain. Blood is slowly wrapping around his fingers, coating them with a thick, red tint. Danny returns to his feet as he kicks several pieces of sharp glass out of the grooves, making his path less dangerous. He enters into the pod and emerges with a Stop sign. The crowd cheers for some reason. Danny looks at it and he walks over to another pod...he slams the Stop sign into the mirror, but it doesn’t break. He tries again, the mirror remains. Cursing, he turns back to the ring and enters with the sign, looking at PerZag who is on all fours, holding his face with blood rapidly dripping onto the mat. Danny slams the Stop sign into the lower portion of PerZag’s back as he flips over and arches his back, removing the hands from his face. It’s completely covered in blood as several deep gashes can be immediately observed~
Jones: Ouch
Killface: I guess it’s a good thing he had all those scars to begin with, not much to mess up from above the neck.
Jones: Still, if he keeps this up he’s going to resemble a self portrait painted during the Cubism movement.
Killface: The Cube? You mean that contraption a few miles away?
Jones: No, Cubism, it’s a form of art...I’d think an ageless person might remember that.
Killface: Sorry, I hate art
~Danny stands back, leaning against the ropes. PerZag slowly rises to his feet with his back to Danny. He turns around and Danny bounces off the ropes, lunging forward with the Stop sign, slamming it into PerZag’s face!!! PerZag falls to the mat as Danny looks at the Stop sign and sees the ‘O’ is completely red, meshing in with the rest of the sign. He exits the ring and places the sign in front of the mirror he tried to break previously. Danny steps back, bounces off the ropes and he leaps forward with a dropkick into the Stop sign, smashing the mirror!! He quickly pulls his legs away, keeping them from getting shredded. Danny then enters into the pod and he emerges with a crowbar as the fans grow more concerned~
Jones: Okay, yea, this weapon could do some serious damage.
Killface: This is turning into a massacre, PerZag may as well be one of those slave armies going against Rome.
Jones: Spartacus did fairly well
Killface: Haha, don’t let revisionist history fool you, boy. Spartacus was a joke.
Jones: Wow, again, you’re completely making me re-think my life.
~Danny B heads for the third pod with the crowbar in his grasp. He rears back and delivers a home run type swing, shattering the third mirror with the crowbar. Entering, he shakes his head with disappointment before re-emerging with a football helmet, accompanied with a visor. He rolls his eyes and tosses it into the ring, heading for the fourth pod. The helmet rolls next to a recovering PerZag, who is lying in a pool of his own blood. He reaches over and grabs the helmet, placing it over his head~
Jones: If only he had acquired that helmet before going face first through a mirror.
Killface: Are these matches typically this easy?
Jones: Not that I know of, Danny B just seems to be cruising toward victory...showing that he’s a true Hall of Famer.
~Growing quite accustomed to utilizing a crow bar with destructive intent, Danny devastates the fourth window, shattering it to pieces. A tiny shard of glass hits him in the eye, he pauses and carefully removes it, preventing any damage. He enters into the pod. As he does, PerZag reaches his feet and climbs through the ropes. Danny emerges from the pod with the Savage Title in his hands! The crowd rises to their feet. He fails to notice PerZag initially, entirely focused on the belt in his grasp. That’s when PerZag leans forward and head butts Danny B!! Danny falls back, slamming against the chain lined siding, with the title in his hand. PerZag head butts Danny again. He drops the title onto a pile of shattered glass before staggering near the ropes. PerZag stalks him, delivering another head butt. Danny staggers near the fifth mirror, falling to one knee. PerZag head butts him once more...Danny falls over, blinking with a far away stare in his eyes. PerZag drops to his knees and he begins to repeatedly head butt Danny B as the fans start to get behind the former Northeastern champion~
Jones: A simple head butt has never been more devastating!!
Killface: Considering the conditions of this contest...head gear should probably be required.
Jones: Would you wear head gear?
Killface: Of course not, I don’t fear glass.
Jones: What do you fear?
Killface: Owls.
Jones: Interesting
~After a multitude of head butts, PerZag relents, sitting up. Blood is dripping from the bottom of his helmet, indicating that his face is still bleeding badly. Danny B, meanwhile, has a busted nose and is wincing in pain with his face battered and bruised from PerZag’s assault. PerZag gets to his feet and he delivers a swift stomp into Danny’s face with his foot. Danny rolls over, holding his face and bloodied nose in pain. PerZag steps up to the fifth mirror and stares into it for a moment. He then head butts the crap out of the mirror, shattering it, before entering~
Jones: PerZag using his head more than he possibly ever has...in a literal sense!
Killface: I was about to say, you shouldn’t insult the intelligence of a maniacal, scarfaced barbarian.
Jones: You’re certainly applying a ton of labels to PerZag
Killface: Well, if the helmet fits
Jones: Head butt the heck out of your opponent?
Killface: Evidently
~PerZag emerges with a pair of hand cuffs!! He looks at Danny B, then at the Savage Title and finally back at the handcuffs. Danny B, showing a ton of grit, is crawling for the title, his objective is singular and clear. PerZag rushes over and he kicks Danny in the back of the head, flattening the Hall of Famer out. PerZag yanks Danny B to his feet and he whips him into the steel chains of the chamber, Danny’s back hits hard. He comes staggering off as PerZag bends over and lifts Danny over the top rope and down to the mat inside the ring hard! PerZag turns for the Savage Title...Danny reaches under the bottom rope, grabbing his foot and pulling back! PerZag falls and slams the front of his helmet onto the metal awning...it has little effect. Danny pulls PerZag into the ring as he rolls over onto his back and throws some kicks at Danny. Danny climbs on top of PerZag, once he’s in the ring, and he attempts to remove the helmet~
Jones: These two are scratching and clawing their way towards victory...that title is hanging in a tenuous position.
Killface: I say, it was nice to see PerZag actually acknowledge the title’s existence. I was beginning to wonder if he understood the rules.
Jones: He’s still got those cuffs, though
Killface: I never bought into the whole S&M thing...was never my style. I’m more of a simple man with simple fantasies that don’t involve farm animals or leathered steel.
Jones: Well, that’s certainly a comforting thought
~Danny has PerZag’s helmet halfway off. We see his bloodied chin exposed. PerZag turns and notices the bottom rope nearby. He quickly reaches up and slaps one half of the cuffs around Danny’s wrist. He then moves to cuff the other half to the rope. Danny fights with everything he’s got to pull his arm away...but PerZag has a strong grip. Danny removes his other hand from the helmet of PerZag, doing whatever he can to avoid being cuffed to the ropes. PerZag is inching closer to the bottom rope, it seems inevitable at this point. Danny, feeling the desperation sinking in, does the only other alternative thing he can conjure...he quickly slaps the other half of the cuffs around PerZag’s wrist! PerZag stops and the face of his helmet turns and looks at Danny B as both men freeze for a moment, realizing they are now cuffed to one another~
Jones: Well, this is interesting
Killface: I didn’t sign on for any guy on guy bondage...I had my share of those sights back in the Roman bath houses.
Jones: Yikes
Killface: I remember walking in one time while Jules...that’s what we called Caesar, was stark naked receiving a sponge bath from Bruti, which is what we called Brutus...he was really working the back fairly aggressively...you know, now that I think back, in hindsight on what took place a little later
Jones: That’s enough! For the love, ageless man, there might be children watching
Killface: I do apologize
~PerZag grabs Danny by his ears and head butts the crap out of his face!! Danny rolls over, holding his nose in pain as it begins gushing. PerZag sits up and tries ripping his hand free from the cuff. His right hand is cuffed to Danny’s left. He quickly realizes ripping his hand free isn’t going to work. He gets to his feet and pulls Danny to his. PerZag rips Danny’s hand away from his face, revealing a bloodied nose. PerZag then drops Danny with a short arm clothesline! Danny hits the mat hard, nearly pulling PerZag down as well. Bent over, PerZag sighs in frustration~
Jones: This certainly raises the degree of difficulty
Killface: He could have pulled his arm out of socket with that vicious arm to the throat.
Jones: We call that a clothesline
Killface: What? You guys don’t have dryers? I may be ageless, but I do keep up with modern technology.
Jones: It’s not that we don’t have them...it’s just that’s the term...you know what, nevermind
~Thick streams of blood leak through the facemask of PerZag’s helmet while he’s bent over. He grabs Danny by the hair and pulls him up. PerZag aggressively drags him to the nearest corner where he delivers a few knees, attempting to figure out how to win the match. Danny, out of nowhere, reaches his hand inside PerZag’s facemask where he starts clawing at his damaged cuts!! PerZag kicks his legs in pain before delivering a short elbow to Danny’s nose. Both men fall to the mat, in tremendous pain from the other inflicting further pain on their wounds~
Jones: We are at a virtual standstill here...they are cuffed together, they are bleeding...the title is just, like, right over there.
Killface: I don’t know why they just don’t rip their hand away, breaking that puny chain.
Jones: Because, unlike you, they are HUMAN
Killface: I find that remark surprisingly hurtful
~Danny looks down at his hand, it’s masked in PerZag’s blood. He wipes it clean on the mat as PerZag regains his footing. He yanks Danny roughly out of the corner, dragging him into the middle of the ring. Danny quickly realizes PerZag is heading for the Savage Title. Danny pulls back, stopping PerZag. PerZag turns around and throws a kick at Danny’s face, Danny ducks. He climbs to his feet with PerZag’s back to him, hooks PerZag around the waist with PerZag’s right arm wedged behind his back, lifts him up and drops him to the mat with a German suplex!!! PerZag holds his arm in pain as Danny does the same, both men feeling the awkwardness the cuffs produced during the move~
Jones: I’m not sure Danny B gained much from that German Suplex.
Killface: Can I go in there and remove the ties that bind?
Jones: I think it’s best for everyone involved if you didn’t get, umm, involved
Killface: Poorly said, but message received.
~Danny reaches his feet and pulls PerZag up as well. He nears a corner, behind the corner, almost directly behind the ring post is the sixth and final mirror. Danny rotates around, throwing PerZag’s back into the turnbuckles. He kicks PerZag square in the gut, subduing him. He then lifts PerZag and sets him on the top turnbuckle. Danny scales to the top, pulling PerZag to his feet. He hooks PerZag for a suplex, but PerZag blocks it and takes a step back, with his back foot on the post. He tries lifting Danny for a suplex, but Danny blocks it. The fans are on their feet in anticipation~
Jones: Hmm, this could be dangerous
Killface: Like a child running with a Kitana...someone stop that runt!
Jones: Who puts a kitana within reach of a child, let alone allows them to play with it?
Killface: One can’t remain a child forever, Jones
~Danny tries again to superplex PerZag into the ring. PerZag blocks it once more. He lifts Danny up, almost vertical, but Danny kicks and is returned back to the top turnbuckle. He kidney punches PerZag, freeing his head. With his left hand, he does an uppercut thrust, knocking the football helmet off of PerZag’s head! PerZag’s face is revealed, it’s bloody and mangled. He frowns and delivers a vicious head butt to Danny!! He grabs Danny’s hair, keeping him from falling to the mat. He then hooks Danny for a superplex and lifts him up, this time Danny gets vertical. PerZag leaps off the ring post...but Danny is able to keep from going completely over, instead turning a superplex into a cross body...both men fly from the ring and CRASH through the final mirror!! The glass explodes as the crowd erupts with cheers!! All we can see are their legs hanging out of the pod with glass everywhere...the Brazilian interpretation of “Holy Shit!” cries out as the fans are in full appreciation of the show these two gladiators are putting on~
Jones: Talk about taking a mirror out in style!
Killface: Truly incredible...is this what one can expect to see at every OCW show?
Jones: Pretty much
Killface: They are still cuffed to one another, mind you
Jones: A stalemate that could get stale
Killface: You are a terrible wordsmith
Jones: True, I am no Smith
~Gruff climbs through the ropes and carefully navigates the glass minefield before checking on PerZag and Danny. His body goes flying from the pod as one of the competitors obviously shoved him away. PerZag’s legs disappear...Danny’s slowly follow as it’s obvious he’s being dragged deep into the pod. We are then plagued with several tenuous moments of silence~
Jones: Ominous...what is going on?
Killface: Perhaps the Benalla guy is going to gnaw off Danny’s arm.
Jones: I CERTAINLY HOPE NOT
Killface: I’ve seen worse, let me tell you, living with a group of 14th century cannibals makes the Donner Party look like the Brady Bunch.
Jones: Holy cow you just broke all kinds of historical and sociological barriers with that analogy.
Killface: Wasn’t attempting to be metaphorical, I seriously experienced all three
~Suddenly, a figure begins to emerge from the darkness. Stepping into the light we see it’s PerZag!! The severed chain which belonged to a full set of cuffs hangs from his right arm as he holds a pair of wire cutters with his left hand. Casually, he tosses the cutters to the side and turns his focus onto the Savage Title, which sets a few feet away~
Jones: PerZag emerges!! It’s there for the taking...are we about to see a new Savage champion??
Killface: The outcome seems to be decided...Danny E is nowhere to be found.
Jones: It’s Danny B!
Killface: Sorry, but you’re terrible at annunciation.
Jones: Do not blame me for your botch!
~PerZag turns and heads for the belt. His back is shredded from going through the mirror, with blood oozing out of several cuts and other pieces of glass wedged into his skin. He gives it no mind, focusing on his ultimate goal. PerZag stands over the Savage Title and he bends over picking it up...the title is surrounded by several jagged pieces of glass. He obtains the Title and holds it up with his left hand. He turns around, ready to enter the ring...as he does, Danny B comes out of nowhere, spearing him to the ground, into the metal awning!!! The crowd explodes as PerZag drops the title and arches his back in pain. Danny reaches up and grabs the chain linked side of the chamber, pulling himself up. He reaches into his scalp, amidst his reddening blonde hair and yanks a giant piece of glass out. He casually tosses it aside before leaning into the metal links and taking a breather~
Jones: Out of nowhere! That spear nearly split PerZag in half!
Killface: Yes, but Danny Z surely paid for it!
Jones: It’s Danny BEE
Killface: Sorry, must have been flashing back to Grease
Jones: Born to Hand Jive, baby!
~Jones and Killface begin to hand jive at the announcer’s desk as we focus back on the match. PerZag slowly sits up, his back is a shredded mess. Reaching over his shoulder, he yanks a few of the larger pieces of glass out of his cuts. Danny notices PerZag recovering and decides to make a move for the Savage Title. Staggering around, he finds himself standing over the title. He reaches down and obtains it. Danny moves for the ropes. He gets one leg through the ropes and moves to pull the other leg through when PerZag reaches in and grabs the title, yanking back. Danny is caught, with the title just outside the ring. He steps back through the ropes, on the outside. They begin to wrestle for the Savage Title~
Jones: Both competitors are so close to winning...one wrong move...one right move...one foot, yikes!
Killface: You would think Danny G would have had a bigger sense of urgency entering the ring with the title in his grasp.
Jones: First of all, he’s gone through a mirror and been dropped on his head several times...second...just call him Ripper.
Killface: This crowd is really loud, I’m having trouble hearing, but okay...I shall now refer to him as Tripper.
Jones: Ugh
~Danny yanks the title from PerZag and drills him in the head with it! PerZag kicks Danny in the knee, yanking the title back and he drills Danny in the head with it! Danny reclaims the title, nailing PerZag in the head once again. PerZag returns the favor, the two go back and forth nailing each other with the belt, inches away from the ropes as the fans cheer after each blow~
Jones: A unique slugfest, of sorts
Killface: I think we need to have President Dean fashion a sturdier belt
Jones: That’s the best point you’ve made all evening
~Danny lifts his leg up and drills PerZag in the side of the head with a roundhouse kick!! PerZag stumbles into the ropes, dropping the title through them. It hits and slides near the middle of the ring. The crowd gasps as he nearly fell into the ring with the belt. He springs off the ropes and returns to an upright position, a bit out on his feet. Danny quickly turns and he hops onto the second turnbuckle, near the ring post and leaps off with a Moonsault...but PerZag catches him!! He carries Danny to the ring post and goes to drop him with Snake Eyes, face first onto the post, but Danny squirms away, landing behind PerZag. He shoves PerZag forward, toward the post, but PerZag puts his hands up, keeping his head from ramming into it. Danny charges in, PerZag moves...Danny dodges the post, diving between the post and the ropes, popping out on the other side. PerZag goes for a lariat, but Danny ducks it. PerZag staggers forward and turns around as Danny lunges with a spear, PerZag catches him and goes for a DDT, but Danny blocks it and he lifts PerZag in the air for a back body drop...PerZag lands on his feet!! Danny turns around and looks at PerZag who just stares right back at him...the crowd gives a huge ovation~
Jones: Tremendous counter after counter...each man one move away from certain defeat!
Killface: When does time expire?
Jones: It doesn’t, there is no time limit
Killface: Cripes, we could be here all night!!
~Danny and PerZag lock up as the crowd cheers, seeing that we’re back to square one. Danny goes to lift a knee into PerZag’s gut, but PerZag blocks it, hooks his leg and drops him with a Fisherman’s Suplex! Danny is out, lying flat on his back. PerZag looks to the top turnbuckle and points to it with the PerZag portion of the fans giving him a huge ovation~
Jones: PerZag looking for the finishing touch
Killface: Well, get on with it, then!
~PerZag lifts a lifeless Danny and places him on the top turnbuckle. PerZag climbs up there with him and effortlessly hoists Danny over his shoulder for a powerslam. He looks down at the Stop Sign which is lying near the Savage Title. PerZag readies himself to drop Danny with a top rope Powerslam. Danny, suddenly, starts to bite the cheek of PerZag as Zag leaps off the top rope...in mid air Danny is able to pull PerZag forward with his head locked under Danny’s arm...he rotates PerZag just enough and drops him on his head on the Stop Sign in the middle of the ring!!! The fans go wild as PerZag is lying on his side, unconscious. Danny rolls onto his back and looks over at the Savage Title. Reaching over, he grabs the Title and pulls it close, clutching it near his chest, the bell sounds to a loud ovation~
Predator: Here is your winner...AND THE NEW SAVAGE CHAMPION... “THE RIPPER” DANNY B!!!!!
Jones: He did it!! Danny B did it, with one final counter...turning a powerslam into something well, I’ve never seen before.
Killface: The refs should check on that PerZag fellow, his neck could be broken.
Jones: He landed pretty roughly, for sure...wow, what a match.
Killface: This OCW place is pretty crazy, not quite Roman Coliseum with tigers and slaves crazy...but moderately crazy.
Jones: Umm, thanks, I guess...folks, it’s been great and I can’t remember calling a better event, but, like everything else in life not named Killface, this spectacle known as the Revenge Amphitheater has come to a close...so, with a hint of sadness, I send you guys into the capable hands of Smith as we prepare for our Main Event...Killface, any final words?
Killface: Not really
Jones: Alright, let’s head back to The Cube...it’s main event time!
~We cut back to The Cube where Smith and Hood await the opportunity to call the main event of Revenge~
Smith: Well folks...tonight has been historic in every way a comeback Pay Per View in the year 2015 can be historic
Hood: I agree with that statement
Smith: And, with a comeback nearly complete, we turn to the future. Next month, OCW will travel to Milan, Italy and compete in one of the world’s most famous opera houses, La Scala...
Hood: Aww man, an opera house?
Smith: I find the concept highly interesting
Hood: You fucking would!
Smith: Quit your whining...if you have a problem with it, maintain a Code of Silence
Hood: You just had to work that in there, didn’t you?
Smith: Yep...folks, that’s what’s in store for March...hover, there is one little item left on February’s itenerary.
Hood: Okay...
Smith: As great as this month has been...everything, it all leads here.
Hood: To our announce table?
Smith: NO! The main event, geez man, can’t you let me get my hype on?
Hood: Get your hype on? Okay, Mr. Douche Bag...get your ‘hype’ on.
Smith: In a matter of moments, three gladiators will step into The Cube and compete for the ultimate...
Hood: *chuckling*
Smith: Screw it, let’s go down to ringside
The Cube
Mack O’Connor (c) (6 pts) vs. Bob Grenier (0 pts) vs. Chad Vargas (0 pts)
~”Needle and the Spoon” by Lynyrd Skynyrd blares through the speakers placed on the cliff and around the ring as the surrounding crowd rises to their feet, super excited for the main event to begin. A focused and angry Chad Vargas marches his way out from behind the curtain, down the aisle way and inside the Cube. He steps into the ring and positions himself in a corner, staring at the Cube entrance, ready to begin fighting~
Belvedere: Introducing first, from Everclear County, Tennessee...standing 6’4 and weighing in at 240 lbs...he is The Confederate Icon...Chad Vargas!!!
~Smart Went Crazy begins echoing throughout the area and Bob Grenier makes his way out to a nice ovation. He slaps the hands of his fans while he mouths the words of the song to himself, about half way down the aisle he stops and looks up and throws both hands in the air in tribute to his deceased relatives. He looks directly into the OCW camera and then playfully turns it towards the audience before he slides under the bottom rope. The fans continue to cheer as he sits on the top turnbuckle silently awaiting his opponent~
Belvedere: Introducing next, from Timmins, Ontario, Canada...standing 6’2 and weighing in at 222 lbs...Bob Grenier!!!
~As ‘Vagabond’ by The Greenskeepers begins to play, Mack O’Connor walks out on the stage and walks directly to the ring, dressed in jeans (black or blue) and a black tank top. He occasionally raises an arm to acknowledge and get a rise out of the fans. He slides into the ring and starts pacing in his corner. He doesn’t talk trash to his opponent but he makes sure to stare them down, letting them know he means business. Scruff walks over and asks for the OCW Title. Mack removes it from his waist and hands it over as Scruff returns to the middle of the ring, standing next to Belvedere~
Belvedere: And their opponent, from Brooklyn, New York...standing 6’3 and weighing in at 230lbs...he is the Current, Reigning and Defending OCW Champion...Maaaaaaack Ooooooooo’Connnnnnnorrrrrr!!!!
~The fans give a great ovation for the OCW Champion as Mack barely acknowledges them, instead focused on the monumental task awaiting him. Belvedere exits The Cube with the title, making his way across the aisle and back onto the edge of the cliff. Mack, Grenier and Vargas are all in their respective corners, waiting for the bell to sound. Suddenly, a loud shift is heard as an ominous beat begins to sound through the speakers~
Smith: What’s going on here? Tomfoolery BEFORE the match begins...ugh, how disrespectful!
Hood: Man, this sounds like some underground beat...I wonder if someone accidentally plugged Dean’s iPod into the sound system.
Smith: I doubt it
~Suddenly, the top of the Cube becomes unhinged as the four sides separate. They begin to lower, extending out from the ring. The fans start to go crazy, clapping and cheering. The sides continue to descend until they reach a level line with the bottom of the ring, creating a Plexiglass playground for the competitors to take their action onto. At the edge of each side is about a six foot high wall of plexiglass, which would conceivably keep the wrestlers from simply walking off the edge. That would be great, but in between each side is a completely bare space that anyone could simply fall right through, if they weren’t paying attention~
Smith: The stakes have been raised!
Hood: Hell mother fucking yea!! Somebody is going over, Smith!!
Smith: Yes, we know, someone is going to win.
Hood: No man, someone is going OVER THE CLIFF
Smith: Oh, yea, perhaps
~Vargas looks at Mack who looks back at Vargas. They both seem surprised at the recent development. Grenier climbs to the second rope and begins clapping, really liking the unexpected threat added to their already dangerous match. The fans cheer along with his clapping as O’Connor joins in, raising his arms in the air, getting fired up. Vargas cracks a smile, feeling the air which accompanies something special. He then looks up, taking stock of the square patch of Plexiglass hanging above them with the Rope from the Tag Match setting atop it~
Smith: As you can see the only part of The Cube remaining is that square Plexiglass portion with the rope setting atop. Doubtful that will come into play, we don’t have any Zach LaVine’s in there.
Hood: These three guys look jacked! I have to say, I’m pretty stoked myself...I think we’re about to witness something special.
Smith: Indeed!
~The ominous music ends as the bell instantly sounds with the crowd releasing one of their loudest cheers of the evening. The sun begins to set over the horizon as the outdoor lights positioned to provide evening luminescence turn on~
Smith: And we are officially wrestling UNDER THE LIGHTS
Hood: Heeeere we go!
~Scruff stands out of the way, expecting and all out brawl to ensue. The three competitors carefully approach the center of the ring. Inches from one another, something strange happens. Grenier and Vargas suddenly turn on O’Connor and they begin to punch and kick at the OCW Champion. The crowd releases sounds of shock at the two bitter rivals working in unison. They back Mack into a corner with Grenier kicking him in the stomach while Chad delivers some stiff right hands to his bald head. Vargas takes a few steps back into the center of the ring as Grenier whips O’Connor out of the corner and right into a huge lariat from Chad!! Mack is turned inside out and left lying on his back in the center of the ring~
Smith: What a shocking development...Bob Grenier and Chad Vargas are working together! Do you think they’ve formed some kind of alliance?
Hood: No, I just think they figure destroying the champ will make victory that much easier.
Smith: But this isn’t an elimination match and they can’t both pin Mack O’Connor.
Hood: Do you seriously think those two thought that far ahead?
Smith: Good point
~Vargas slides out of the ring as Grenier lays some stiff boots to Mack. Vargas yanks a chair out from under the ring as the crowd cheers the sight of the weapon. He slides it into the ring as Grenier yanks Mack to his feet and holds him in position for a chair shot. Vargas, on his feet with the chair, drills Mack in the head with the chair!! Mack falls to one knee as Grenier yanks him back to his feet and whips him towards the ropes. Vargas follows him, with the chair. Mack bounces off the ropes and is instantly smashed in the face with the chair!! He goes over the top rope and lands, roughly, on the metal awning surrounding the ring~
Smith: Well, it appears the bitter rivals have effectively taken out our Champion.
Hood: He’s not MY champion...my champion is off in another dimension somewhere.
Smith: Stop looking into the past...LIVE IN THE NOW.
Hood: Ugh, but the now is so passé
Smith: That literally makes no sense
~Grenier and Vargas each take their own opportunity to hurl insults at O’Connor, who is, for lack of a better term, knocked out. Vargas backs up as Grenier’s focus is entirely on Mack. The fans start to yell at Grenier as a smile crosses Chad’s face, with the steel chair in his grip. Grenier finally picks up on the crowd’s urgency as his eyes widen, realizing the deal he made with his devil has expired. Vargas sits, poised with the chair. Grenier slowly turns around and Vargas takes a huge swing...but Grenier ducks!! Chad stumbles into the ropes, with his back to Grenier...Grenier hooks him around the waist, lifts him up and tosses him across the ring with a Release German Suplex!! Vargas lands on his head, dropping the chair after the impact...it slides out of the ring~
Smith: Chad Vargas thought he had Bob Grenier where he wanted him...but the Canadian pot smoker had other ideas.
Hood: You know, one thing that bothered me about Bob this month...he ripped Chad and Mack for clouding their minds with alcohol...I mean, what the fuck does he think marijuana does? It doesn’t exactly stimulate the thought process.
Smith: I wouldn’t know
Hood: Really? You’re roommate is Alice Knight and you have no idea about the side effects from narcotics?
Smith: She’s just quirky
Hood: Quirky for a reason, dumbass...people aren’t born...like that
~Grenier lifts Vargas to his feet and he slams him face first into the top turnbuckle!! Vargas staggers around the ring, shaking his head in pain. Grenier measures him up as Chad is slowly walking toward a corner. Grenier sprints in and he leaps into the air, grabbing the back of Chad’s head...he jumps over the top rope and drills Vargas face first into the top turnbuckle with a Bulldog!! Bob barely hangs onto the ropes, remaining on the apron as Chad’s body slumps to the mat, leaning up against the bottom turnbuckle. The fans go crazy for the innovative move. Bob re-enters the ring and he pulls Vargas to his feet...he whips Chad across the ring...Chad slams into the opposite corner. Bob sprints in and he leaps high in the air with a cross body...he connects!! His momentum causes him to roll over Vargas and onto the top turnbuckle. Vargas staggers forward, dazed. Bob quickly regains his balance and comes to a standing position atop the turnbuckle...Vargas turns around and Bob leaps off with a Missile Drop Kick!!! Vargas falls the ground, gasping for air with a glazed look in his eyes. Bob pops to his feet as the fans, displaying their inner Hawaiian begin to chant “Lopaka!”~
Smith: Who says wrestling fans have short term memories?
Hood: Ugh, not this Lopaka shit again...really? YOU GUYS ARE BRAZILIAN, NOT HAWAIIAN!
Smith: Hey, if the shoe fits
Hood: Find a smaller size...beauty is uncomfortable.
Smith: Whatever
~Chad remains on the mat as Grenier heads for another corner. He quickly ascends to the top and looks down upon Vargas, who hasn’t moved, remaining on his back. About to leap off, a hand emerges from behind him, grabbing his heel. Grenier loses his balance as another hand appears, shoving forward on the lower portion of Grenier’s back!! Grenier falls forward, doing almost a somersault, landing hard on his back! Mack O’Connor appears on the ring apron, with a red welt on his forehead from the chair shots...thankfully, he has not been busted open. He climbs to the top and looks down at Grenier...Mack seems slightly uncomfortable at the top, but manages to maintain his balance. Grenier, still on his back, continues to wince. Mack leaps off and delivers a fist into the face of Grenier!! Grenier’s body begins to spasm as he holds his face in pain. Mack, landing awkwardly on his knee, grabs it in a bit of pain...more agitation than anything, stretching it out~
Smith: There’s something you don’t see every day...Mack O’Connor coming off the top rope with a maneuver.
Hood: In his defense, he did stay true to form with a FLYING FIST OF DEATH.
Smith: The ultimate brawler, Mack O’Connor’s fists are arguably his most dangerous weapon.
Hood: Yea, he busted Grenier up pretty good
~Seated against the bottom turnbuckle, Grenier’s upper lip has been split open. A deep shade of crimson stains his front teeth...thankfully, for Bob, all teeth remain intact. Mack reaches his feet, finding his knee to be okay. Vargas, meanwhile, has returned to his feet...still a bit worse for wear. Mack delivers a stiff right hand to the jaw of Vargas. Chad leans against the ropes. Mack leans back and follows through with a HUGE uppercut, sending Vargas over the top rope and crashing to the outside!! Chad’s legs land on the steel chair, it slips away, making his fall twice as brutal...the back of his head slams into the metal awning...he grabs it instantly, curling up from the pain~
Smith: Both Chad and Bob have been questioning Mack’s toughness all month, it appears to me that he’s answering the bell.
Hood: That was a wicked uppercut, I’ll give him credit. He’s doing more with fists than most wrestlers accomplish with chairs or bats or fire extinguishers or whatever the fuck else.
Smith: Indeed!
~Bob is back to his feet, his chin is dripping blood from his busted upper lip. Mack turns around and stares Bob down. Bob puts his fists up, Mack follows suit. The fans get on their feet, excited for a potential, impromptu boxing match. In the center of the ring, Bob throws a jab, Mack ducks and he follows up with a stiff left hand, nailing Bob in his upper lip. Bob falls back, grimacing. He throws a wild haymaker at Mack, Mack ducks and he follows through with a stiff punch into Bob’s gut. Bob doubles over, coughing in pain. Mack takes a few steps back, egging Bob on, mocking him. Bob frowns and stands up, he throws another jab...Mack, again, dodges the jab before countering with one of his own, smacking Bob in the nose. Bob stumbles back and he touches his nose, finding it sore and bloody, as trickles of blood begin to seep out of both nostrils. “Mother Fucker” Bob yells out, walking up to Mack. Mack bounces around, staying on his toes. Bob holds his fists up as Mack urges him on to throw another punch. Grenier responds by kicking Mack right in the groin!!! The fans groan in pain as Mack falls to both knees...Bob quickly grabs his head and drops Mack to the mat with a DDT!! Bob remains seated on the mat as Mack is lying face down...he spits a wad of blood out of his mouth as his face, from the nose down, makes him look like a cannibal right after enjoying a hearty meal~
Smith: Bob Grenier gave up on boxing and went with what he knows best.
Hood: Guy looks like a fucking zombie...I mean, not like a super decayed zombie, but like a fresh zombie. You know, someone who just got bit.
Smith: Sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about
Hood: Dude, like a clean zombie...an elegant zombie...c’mon, you know what I mean
Smith: Nope
~Returning to his feet, Bob grabs Mack and drags him into a nearby corner. He drives a couple of shoulders into Mack’s gut before lifting him up and placing him on the top turnbuckle with Mack’s feet resting on the middle set of ropes, inside the ring. Bob then lifts Mack up and sets him on his shoulders. He walks into the middle of the ring before drilling Mack onto his head with a Death Valley Driver!! Mack’s body goes limp as Bob returns to his feet. About to make a cover, he is blindsided from behind as Vargas re-enters the ring with a tall ladder! Chad slams it into Bob’s back as Grenier stumbles front first into the ropes...he turns around as Chad charges in, clotheslining Bob over the top rope with the ladder. Like Chad, Bob takes a hard spill onto the metal awning. He rolls off the metal and onto the plexiglass portion of the cube...his back has impressions of the metal awning imprinted into it, displaying how rough of a fall he took. Back inside the ring, Chad positions the ladder, upside down, over Mack. He proceeds to drive the ladder into Mack’s face!! Mack quickly grabs his face, rolling away, under the bottom rope and out of the ring as Chad is the only man left in the ring~
Smith: Vargas is a sick, sick man...most people jam the top of the ladder into their opponents stomachs...he slams it into Mack’s face!
Hood: He’s not sick, he wants to win...cut the head off the snake, Smith, not the legs
Smith: Snakes don’t have legs, genius
Hood: Well...uh...shut the fuck up, you know what I meant!
Smith: Your professionalism never ceases to amaze
~Chad turns and spots Grenier on his feet, standing on the plexiglass side of the Cube. He positions the ladder, leaning against the ropes. Vargas takes a few steps back, measuring the distance, breathing heavily. He then sprints towards the ladder and runs across the rungs, displaying tremendous agility before reaching the top and leaping off, flipping through the air, head first, landing on top of Grenier bottom first! Grenier slams into the plexiglass with the weight of Vargas on top of him. The fans go wild for the move as Chad slowly reaches his feet, grabbing his lower back in pain and uttering something along the lines of, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”~
Smith: Tremendous athleticism by the Confederate Icon...you don’t expect maneuvers like that from Chad Vargas.
Hood: Just because he isn’t a fucking gymnast 24/7 doesn’t mean he can’t pull shit like that off...how the fuck do you think he got to the top of OCW to begin with...by bodyslamming people all day long?
Smith: A bodyslam can be a highly effective maneuver.
Hood: Yea, maybe if you’re The Big Bifford and you fall on top of them while slamming them or maybe if you are body slamming them onto razor sharp spikes or into a pool of blood thirsty piranhas...but, outside of those scenarios, they’re fucking useless.
Smith: Far from a traditionalist...my colleague, Hood
~While on his feet, a fan decides to throw a soccer ball at Vargas. Showing great reflexes, Chad catches the ball with one hand. He looks at it with disgust before savagely ripping the ball open. He yells out, “Soccer is gay!” The crowd boos the loudest chorus of boos we’ve heard all evening, throwing things at Vargas. One item is a flask of alcohol...Vargas tips an imaginary hat while grabbing the flask and taking a sip. During his indulging, Mack has reached his feet and made his way around the metal awning, stepping onto the plexiglass. Vargas hurls the flask at Mack...O’Connor dodges it easily. Vargas leaps forward, attempting to cover Mack’s head with the split open soccer ball. Mack fights it off, ripping what remains of the soccer ball away from Vargas and tossing it down, through the fairly wide crack in between plexiglass platforms...it falls all the way into the water below. Both men take a moment to realize the treachery that surrounds them. Mack breaks the moment of reflection, drilling Vargas in the chin with a straight elbow. Vargas staggers back as Mack reaches forward and punches Vargas in the forehead. Vargas falls on his ass as the fans erupt in cheers. O’Connor quickly grabs Chad’s legs...Chad tries to kick him off, Mack responds by stomping in his gut. He then locks in a Figure Four leglock!! Vargas yells out in pain as Scruff rushes into view, asking Chad if he wants to submit~
Smith: This could be it...Chad Vargas could submit which would mean Mack O’Connor retains his OCW Title!
Hood: Submitting on THE CUBE
Smith: Yes, that’s what would happen, if, in fact he taps out
Hood: I hope he doesn’t tap out too hard, breaking the glass
Smith: Considering they are walking, jumping and falling on that surface without even a hint of weakness being shown...I doubt that will happen.
Hood: You are a crusher of dreams.
~Grenier returns to his senses, spotting O’Connor attempting to submit Vargas. Not wishing to see such an outcome, he walks up to O’Connor and promptly flips him over. The pressure is instantly reversed from Vargas to Mack. Mack yells out in pain as Scruff asks if he wants to give it up. Grenier goes to his knees before locking in a Crossface on Mack!! Mack suddenly has two submissions being applied, one on his legs, another on his head and neck. He yells loudly, in tremendous pain as Scruff continues to ask if he wants to submit~
Smith: Wow! A double submission...I can’t begin to imagine the pain Mack is in right now!
Hood: Shit’s deep, man...balls deep
Smith: Eww, stop talking, please
Hood: Sorry, just the analogy that came to mind
~Vargas grows frustrated, realizing he can’t win this way. He releases his reverse Figure Four, climbs to his feet and drills a knee into the back of Grenier’s head!! Grenier releases the Crossface, rolling forward. Vargas yanks Bob by his hair and he points towards the opening between plexiglass platforms. A few women in the crowd shriek with horror. He hurls Bob toward the opening...Bob, though, is able to avoid the opening, diving over it, onto the other platform. Vargas stomps his foot in frustration. Seated up, Bob is breathing heavily, experiencing a little of post trauma from the near fall. Chad turns his focus back to Mack, yanking him to his feet. Chad hurls a couple of choice curse words at Mack before instantly dropping him face first onto the metal awning with The Stroke!! Mack is left lying face down as Chad flips him over, going for the pin. Scruff slides in, making the count~
1!
2!
Grenier breaks it up!!
Smith: Bob Grenier out of nowhere to keep Vargas from winning the OCW Title
Hood: Dude can really hustle, normally you don’t see potheads move that fast...unless someone is stealing their weed.
Smith: As I previously stated...I wouldn’t have any clue what you’re talking about
~Grenier, having hopping from one platform to the other, did indeed break the count up. He tosses Vargas back into the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. Vargas is on his feet before Bob can get to his. He kicks Grenier in the gut, Grenier doubles over...Vargas grabs him by the hair and pulls back, slamming the back of his head into the mat. Vargas then looks at the ladder and the plexiglass square above him, with the rope lying atop...an idea enters his mind. He positions the ladder under the square...it’s tall enough to reach. He grabs Grenier and rams his face into one of the rungs, keeping him subdued. Vargas then climbs the ladder with Grenier behind him, continually ramming his face into rung after rung, keeping him from fighting back~
Smith: What is Vargas going to do? What does this sick, racist have planned?
Hood: Did you just call him a RAPIST?
Smith: I said RACIST
Hood: Racist? Grenier is white!
Smith: So? He’s still a racist
Hood: Ohh, I see, he’s racist against Canadians
Smith: THAT’S NOT RACISM
~Chad repeatedly slams Grenier’s head into one of the rungs...he then ties Grenier’s legs around a sturdy rung, releasing his grip. Grenier hangs upside down from near the top of the ladder. Vargas nearly reaches the top as the ladder sways from side to side...he is able to regain the device’s balance. Reaching up, he obtains the rope from the tag match earlier. With it in his hand, he climbs a few rungs down and grabs Grenier’s hair, pulling him back up. He begins wrapping the rope around Grenier’s neck and throat~
Smith: Oh no, don’t tell me
Hood: He’s going to hang Grenier! He’s a true racist...we’re going to have a lynching!
Smith: Somebody stop him! Stop him right now!!
~Chad secures some knot he no doubt learned in some back woods boy scout club from his childhood. He then unhooks Grenier’s legs from the rung and pushes him off the ladder. Grenier hangs from the square, wiggling his legs, gasping for air. The crowd grows restless, booing Vargas and fearing for Grenier. Vargas hops back to the mat and looks up at Grenier, pointing and laughing~
Smith: Stop the match!! We need paramedics!
Hood: Fuck no, we’re not stopping shit...you want to be OCW Champion, you’ve got to go through hell
Smith: I’m sorry, but I don’t think “potential hanging...death by strangulation” is anything any of these guys signed up for.
Hood: Twists and turns my friend...expect the unexpected
~Mack, fully recovered from The Stroke, slides into the ring. He gets to his feet and twirls Chad around. He headbutts Chad in the face, hooks him and drops him to the mat with Double Arm Hook Rock Bottom (Claymore)!! The crowd barely reacts, concerned with a hanging Grenier. Mack pops to his feet and looks down at Vargas, who is unconscious. He then looks up at Grenier, then back at Vargas~
Smith: Is this really that tough of a decision, human life over a wrestling belt?
Hood: It’s not just some belt, it’s the OCW Title you fucking moron
Smith: Still less valuable than human life
Hood: I don’t know, really depends on what human you’re talking about
Smith: You are pitiful
~Yelling the loudest “FUCK!” you’ve ever heard in a wrestling contest, Mack decides to climb the ladder. He reaches a hanging Grenier, whose face is very red, almost turning to blue. He reaches for the rope and is able to work on the knot, finally untying it. Grenier falls to the mat, roughly. His legs land awkwardly, almost as though they might be broken. Mack climbs back down to the ring and checks on Grenier, who is lying on his side...he finds him still breathing. The crowd gives a nice applause for Mack, appreciating his humanitarianism. Mack quickly returns to focus, pinning Chad~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: Vargas kicked out...but that pales in comparison to the selfless act shown by Mack O’Connor.
Hood: I don’t know if I want my champion being some guy who will un-tie a hanging Canadian before winning the OCW Title...shit, it would have only taken 3 seconds...is that really so long?
Smith: Every second counts in an emergency!
Hood: Agreed, and winning the OCW Title is an emergency...should have pinned Vargas first.
~Frustrated, Mack returns to his feet and he kicks Grenier onto his back, going for a pin. Scruff slides in and makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!
Smith: And now Bob Grenier has kicked out...he’s alive!
Hood: Well no shit he’s alive, Mack just checked his pulse.
Smith: You have to admire the grit and determination in Lopaka
Hood: Ugh, no, I will not admire anything about a guy that allows himself to be hanged during a wrestling match.
~Make shakes his head in disbelief as he stands up and pushes the ladder over, it falls to the side, leaning up against one of the corner. Mack pulls Vargas to his feet and he hurls him over the top rope, Vargas lands harshly on the metal awning with his legs folding underneath him. He rolls onto the plexiglass surface, clutching his knees. Mack focuses on Grenier. He lifts a barely conscious Grenier to his feet and yells a few choice words in his face. Mack steps back and he jabs Grenier...as Grenier is teetering on his heels. Mack rears back, going for another haymaker...Grenier ducks and hooks O’Connor’s arm, lifts him up and drills him with a Northern Lights Suplex into a bridge for the pin, Scruff slides in for the count~
1!
2!
Kick Out!!
Smith: Whoa, that was way too close for comfort if you’re Mack O’Connor!
Hood: No shit, a Northern Lights Suplex delivered by a Canadian...you know that’s got to hurt.
Smith: Indeed!
~Grenier rolls over and is gasping for air as O’Connor remains on the mat, looking a bit shocked that he almost got pinned. Grenier returns to his feet and he steps a few feet back while looking at Mack...the rope hits him in the back of the head. He looks at it, then looks at the plexiglass platform. Bob hops onto the rope and he begins to climb, as the fans look on with curiosity~
Smith: What is he thinking?!
Hood: Maybe he wants to take a break, catch a breather...he did almost die like a minute ago.
Smith: I guess, but there are probably safer places to accomplish that
Hood: Really? Like, where? They are surrounded by metal and weapons...if you step a foot too far, you’ll fall off a cliff. That seriously is the best place to rest.
Smith: I see your point.
~Grenier reaches the plexiglass square and takes a seat, Indian style. He reaches down and grabs the rope, pulling it up and setting it atop the square plexiglass with him, safe from his opponents below. Mack returns to his feet and he looks up at Grenier...then at the ladder. Mack moves for the ladder, but Vargas comes out of nowhere, hooking Mack from behind and drilling him into the mat with the Stroke!! Mack is motionless as Vargas rolls him over and goes for the pin. Grenier begins to drop the rope, thinking he may need to break up the pin...Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Shoulder Up!!!
Smith: Our Champion kicked out of The Stroke!
Hood: Holy shit, I thought Vargas had it there...and how stupid Grenier? He realizes he can and, probably will lose the match up there.
Smith: You’ve said it best several times tonight...I doubt these guys think ahead.
Hood: Wow, quoting something I said, I never thought I’d see the day
Smith: I always knew I’d rue the day.
~Vargas glares at Scruff momentarily before returning his focus to the match. He looks up at the rope and Grenier...Grenier quickly pulls the rope back up. Vargas chuckles and grabs the ladder, positioning it under Grenier. Grenier tries to kick at the top, but finds it pretty difficult to achieve without potentially falling to the mat. Vargas begins the climb as the fans rise to their feet, anticipating something crazy. Vargas reaches the top of that ridiculously tall ladder. Grenier lays on his belly and reaches down, trying to rake Vargas in the eyes...Vargas fights him off, peppering him with some stiff right hands into the forehead. Mack O’Connor begins to stir~
Smith: Umm, this has disaster written all over it
Hood: You see a disaster, I see the Mona Lisa
Smith: A pretty plain looking woman
Hood: Totally plain, she has no fucking eyebrows for crying out loud.
Smith: Kind of rude to point out, could have been a disease of sorts
Hood: Or Da Vinci was just lazy as fuck...we should ask Deadface.
Smith: It’s Killface
~Mack crawls for the ladder and grabs a few rungs, he begins to climb toward Vargas. Vargas has won the battle of fists, subduing Grenier with some stiff, short right hands. He grabs Grenier by the hair and yanks him towards the edge of the squared platform. Vargas ascends another rung and he hooks Grenier’s head under his arm for a suplex...the crowd responds with anticipation. Mack, meanwhile reaches the feet of Vargas~
Smith: Uh Oh
Hood: Heeeere we go, bitch!
~Vargas prepares to lift Grenier through the air for a mega superplex...Mack grabs his legs, with his back to the ladder...in one fluid motion, Vargas yanks Grenier off the square platform..holds him vertically for a split second before falling over with Grenier in his grasp, Mack, meanwhile, clutches Chad’s legs and he jumps off the ladder with a powerbomb...all three men descend from the extremely high, suspended situation...Mack releases Vargas, tossing him over the ropes...Vargas and Grenier SLAM into the plexiglass platform with a THUD. Mack is left out to dry as his throat comes down roughly across the top rope!! His head snaps back as his body slams into the ring...the ladder, teetering from the shift in weight, falls on top of Mack as all three men are down, out and not moving...the crowd gives a huge ovation, chanting all kinds of weird Brazilian chants~
Smith: I can’t believe it! How can either of those men rebound from such a fall?
Hood: I don’t know, but one of them is going to
Smith: Could we be witnessing the makings of a three way draw?
Hood: Ugh, I fucking hope not...talk about pussifying a great match
~Grenier, who is lying way out on the platform, rotates his body a bit, showing the earliest signs of life. As he does, his left leg slides off the platform, hanging free. This snaps Grenier to attention as he quickly sits up and back slides away, realizing how close he is to the edge. Once a safe distance, he turns around and spots Vargas who is still on his back, failing to move. He then looks at the ring and spots O’Connor, also motionless. Grenier smiles and makes it to his feet as the fans go wild~
Smith: This is your chance, Bob! Do it! Win the match!
Hood: And, once again, you completely lose focus on your fucking job and become a fan girl.
Smith: The guy was nearly hanged!
Hood: That was so fifteen minutes ago, get over it
~Grenier grabs Vargas by the hair and he lifts him to his feet. He lifts him up, turns his back to the ring and he tosses Vargas over his head with a Fallaway Slam!! Vargas lands hard on the plexiglass before rolling onto the metal awning. Grenier throws his arms in the air, to a huge ovation...as he does, he hears a crack. Grenier pauses and looks down...the plexiglass portion of his footing is begging to crack and fall apart~
Smith: Oh no!! This is terrible!
Hood: Haha, that’s what the guy gets for climbing onto square surfaces and acting like a douche bag show off.
Smith: You need to move, Bob...MOVE!
~Paralyzed for a moment, Bob attempts to remain stationary, hoping the plexiglass will stop cracking. It doesn’t work as the cracks increase in size and frequency. He soon realizes the surface is going to break apart in seconds...Bob looks at the metal awning and takes a few steps, leaping for it...as he does, the plexiglass shatters, breaking away!! Bob’s hands grab onto the metal awning as he’s left hanging with the body of water several hundred feet beneath him and, along with it, certain defeat~
Smith: I hope he’s got a strong grip!
Hood: That’s why it’s good to masturbate, strengthens those forearms
Smith: That’s disgusting
~Vargas rolls over with his back to Grenier, failing to notice him. Instead, he rolls into the ring, dazed and pretty much unaware of anything that’s recently happened. Inside the ring, he finds Mack crawling out from under the ladder. Vargas stomps into Mack’s back. Meanwhile, Grenier remains hanging from the metal awning, checking the support, hoping it doesn’t give way~
Smith: We saw that very awning give way in the TLS, Ashe Dawson match earlier tonight, I believe.
Hood: Yea, but they totally reinforced that bitch, it’s not moving anywhere...even if a raging pothead is hanging from it.
Smith: Comforting news, indeed
~Vargas lifts the ladder off of Mack and goes to slam it into his back...Mack rolls out of the way and onto his back...he kicks up, jamming the ladder into Chad’s face!! Chad falls back into a corner with the ladder setting along the top rope and his hands clutching the rungs. Mack rushes in, he leaps into the air and slams both knees into the ladder, smashing it into Chad’s face!!! Mack returns to his feet, limping slightly. He shoves the ladder out of the ring, it falls onto the side without the plexiglass surface, narrowly missing Grenier and plummeting all the way down. Grenier’s left hand slips from the awning as the fans gasp...he looks down, watching the ladder slam into the water and slowly disappear beneath its surface. Grenier then looks up, sucks up some energy and re-grips the awning with both hands, the fans sigh a momentary breath of relief~
Smith: We almost lost Lopaka!
Hood: A tragedy for sure...by not losing Lopaka, we are forced to say the name, Lopaka.
Smith: Get serious for a minute...a man’s hopes and dreams are hanging, literally, in the balance...and, possibly, his well being.
Hood: Hey, he signed up for this shit. It’s like a hooker getting upset because some guy jammed it all up in her ass...it comes with the territory, whore...if you don’t like it, flip burgers at McDonalds or something.
Smith: Why does it have to be McDonalds? You are ruining my image of McRib
Hood: Because it’s always McDonalds and don’t get me started on McRib
~Mack drags Vargas into the center of the ring...he drills him with a couple of well placed uppercuts into the abdomen as Vargas doubles over. He instantly drops him with a Hollow Point (Stunner to the Temple)...Chad’s body snaps back into the corner, slamming into the buckles and staggering out. Mack kicks him in the gut, hooks both arms and drops Vargas with Claymore!! Vargas goes for the pin as Scruff makes the count~
1!
2!
Grenier Breaks it Up!!
Smith: Bob is back! He came out of nowhere!
Hood: Typical pothead, he acts all desperate and like he’s in trouble...then you actually give him a reason to move and he’s lightning quick.
Smith: Strange but fair
~Grenier pulls a shocked O’Connor to his feet and applies a Front Chancery before lifting him up onto his shoulders and drilling him into the mat with a Muscle Buster (Hollinger Park Hangman)!!! The fans go wild as Grenier quickly and efficiently makes the pin, Scruff counts~
1!
2!
3...SHOULDER UP...NOT 3, SHOULDER UP!
Smith: His hand hit the mat, it hit the mat!!
Hood: No it did not, Scruff may be retarded, but he can count to three and he’s saying he only hit two.
Smith: Oh my gosh, I swear it, at the very least, grazed the mat.
Hood: Yea, well, too bad
Smith: What is in that wine Mack O’Connor drinks?
Hood: Steroid injected spinach
~Grenier sits up with his hands on his head, in shock. He looks at Scruff and holds up three fingers...Scruff shakes his head ‘no’ and holds up two. Grenier shakes his head, in total disbelief. Out of sheer anger and frustration, he throws a petulant kick at Mack, drilling him in the head. Bob then returns to his feet and focuses on Vargas who is sitting against the bottom rope, barely conscious. Bob yanks Vargas to his feet and he drags in into the middle of the ring. He lifts Vargas up and drops him to the mat with a scoop slam~
Smith: These guys are exhausted...they are back to basic maneuvers.
Hood: They’ve maxed out on finishers, Smith...I don’t think the game will give them anymore
Smith: This isn’t a video game, Hood
Hood: Sorry, was trying an analogy there...or a metaphor, no, no...A SIMILE
Smith: There was no ‘like’ or ‘as’...therefore, you fail
~Mack moves, grabbing the ropes and returning to his feet. Bob spots him and he rushes in, kicking Mack in the face with a running knee!! Mack goes over the top rope and he lands on the apron, preventing himself from falling onto the metal awning and, possibly, falling off and down into the liquid abyss. Bob turns his attention back to Vargas, who is on the mat. He lifts Vargas up and goes for a punch..Vargas blocks it and he head butts Grenier. Grenier responds by spitting in the face of Vargas...Vargas spits back in Bob’s face...simultaneously, both men reach up and grab at each other’s faces, gouging their eyes and nose. Mack reaches his feet and watches, smiling~
Smith: Vargas and Grenier are about to rip each other apart and Mack appears to be the beneficiary!
Hood: It’s a true blood feud, Smith...now let’s see some fucking blood!
Smith: These three have given it their all, Hood...it would be a shame if Vargas or Grenier lost focus this late in the game.
Hood: There’s a reason why Mack is OCW Champion and they are not, guy knows how to stay on point.
~Grenier knees Vargas in the groin! Vargas doubles over...Grenier sprints into the ropes where Mack is standing, he runs into Mack, knocking him halfway off the apron...Mack holds onto the ropes, to keep from falling. Bob bounces off the ropes and he sprints at Vargas, jumping over him with a Sunset Flip! He tries to pull Vargas down...Vargas, though, catches both of Bob’s wiggling legs and he leans forward, pinning them next to Bob’s ears and, making a pinfall...Scruff slides in for the count as Mack reaches his feet and widens his eyes upon seeing the pin attempt...Mack climbs the ropes as Scruff counts~
1!
2!
3!!!!
~The crowd jumps to their feet as Mack springboards off the top and drills Chad in the back of the head with a dropkick!! But, it’s too late...Scruff has counted to three and the bell sounds~
Belvedere: Ladies and Gentlemen...here is your winner...AND THE NEW OCW CHAMPION...CHAD “THE CONFEDERATE ICON” VARGAS!!!!!
~The place is going crazy, not for Chad so much as for what they have just witnessed. Mack crawls into a corner and stares at the mat, in disbelief. Grenier is lying on his back with one hand covering his face and another slamming the mat repeatedly out of anger. Vargas, meanwhile, is being helped to his feet by Scruff with a far off look in his eyes. Scruff hands Vargas the OCW Title. Vargas stares at it and starts to regain his senses~
Smith: Chad Vargas is our new OCW Champion! I never thought I’d see the day!
Hood: He fucking earned it, I’ll give him that much...but, shit, so did the other two.
Smith: I know people say this all the time after events...but, seriously...could that match have been any closer?
Hood: No phucking way
~Mack curses before exiting the ring. Grenier stands up and he pleads with Scruff over the count...at first, arguing whether or not Scruff actually reached three...then he goes back to three count from earlier he thought he earned. Scruff just shrugs, offering very little. Grenier kicks the ropes, obviously taking the loss extremely hard. He finally exits and walks down the ramp way, following Mack. As each man reaches the edge of the cliff, the crowd gives them a well deserved ovation. Chad, meanwhile, is leaning in a corner, staring into his newly acquired belt~
Smith: Lurrr, Scott Syren, Silverfreak, Scorpion, Perfect Paul Paras, The Big Bifford, Andy Murray, The Great One, D Double D, Josh Allen, Mack O’Connor and, now, Chad Vargas.
Hood: He’s joined an exclusive list, that’s for damn sure
Smith: Indeed
~Mack and Bob have both exited behind the curtain at the partition, leaving Chad alone to enjoy his victory. Chad stands in the middle of the ring...he holds the title up with one arm, taking in the moment~
Smith: As much as I dislike the man...this is your moment, Chad..soak it up
Hood: Hells to the yea!
~”Nightfall” by Xandria suddenly hits the speakers! Chad lowers his arm as a scowl crosses his face. He turns and stares at the partition...OCW Savage Champion, Danny B steps out from behind the curtain. He’s bandaged up with traces of dried blood still on several parts of his body. The Savage Title is over his shoulder. He looks at Chad and holds his title up...Chad flicks Danny B off before standing on the middle turnbuckle of the nearest corner. He points back at Danny saying “Fuck you, queer!”~
Smith: What does this mean?
Hood: Is that some kind of challenge?
Smith: Certainly seems so...I wish Dean were here!
Hood: To hell with Dean, I want another match!
~Chad motions for Danny to come into the ring...he lays the title out in front of him. Danny simply smirks, saying something about “Code of Silence.” He then turns and exits back through the curtain~
Smith: Danny B versus Chad Vargas at Code of Silence??
Hood: Shit, I’m fucking down...but could we get some clarification??
Smith: I think we just did...folks, we’re out of time...see you guys next month, in Milan for Code of Silence! Good night!
~Our feed ends with a final shot of Vargas kneeling in front of the OCW Title...we fade to black~
Our first month under the new format is in the books...I hope you guys enjoyed it and all decide to stick around for March. All the rps were fantastic...all the characters are extremely well thought out...we have a tremendous roster and I can’t wait to see where we go from here.
Awards will go up later tonight...Code of Silence will be booked by tomorrow...rping begins Monday and news about a potential second show will emerge tomorrow as well.
Here is the PPV Review Form...fill this out and post it in the Revenge Review Thread on the OOC board so I can get your thoughts and learn what was great...and what wasn’t so great...thanks guy!
Credits
On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate Revenge:
OOC: Alright guys/gals...there it is...hope you all enjoyed it. I had a ton of fun writing it...to sort of pile onto the OOC thread, I really dig this format as it allows me the chance to really put some thought into the matches and come up with a unique story to tell in each.
Revenge Video: Alice Knight
OCW Titles: Ian Bishop
Which was the best match:
What was the most exciting/fun point:
What did you like the best about the show:
What surprised you about the show:
Best segment:
Best commentary spot:
Best wrestling spot:
Negative thoughts:
Personal comments:
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