“Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, make violent revolution inevitable.”
(FADEIN: A helicopter vantage point shot of dawn on the Daytona Beach, Florida shoreline. Somewhere, along the middle there’s dozens of trucks as well as thousands of construction workers setting up the wrestling ring, STARtron and various fan areas along the boardwalk and bar crawl areas. As the circular overhead panning continues, the sky fast-forwards from a mid-day to sunset…)
KERRY O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world without promises.”
(CUTTO: The infamous SARS/IMPULSE/STEVE KNOX finish at WRESTLESTOCK TWO – while JOE THE PLUMBER hangs unconscious on an overturned ladder.)
O’CONNOR: “We live in a world without guarantees.”
(SPLIT-SCREEN CUTTO: NOVA locking the Caesarian Section on DAN RYAN to the left, TERESA QUARANTA to the right.)
O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world, where the demented are the divine…”
(QUICK CUTTO’s: VARGA cackling like a maniac as a man in a KOOPA suit clotheslines him behind! KOOTER MICHAELS-CRUISE headbanging and playing mop-guitar, while the surrounding 20,000 fans mosh in unison! SARS chairshotting JOE THE PLUMBER! DIRK DICKWOOD firing up PHIL ATKEN who’s doing pushups with DIRK on his back…)
O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world that can’t challenge us…”
(SLO-FADE: PRIME COLOSSUS V © -- STEVE KNOX holding up the Elite Championship in victory!)
O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world where men without honor, survive by destroying those that are hanging onto their last single shred.”
(HIGHLIGHT MONTAGE: CAMERON CRUISE viciously attacking KIN HIROSHI backstage! FELX RED and LEGION donneybrooking in a locker room! BROCK ALYAS’ veins popping out his neck, as he tries to shove away security!)
O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world, where HATE drives us beyond sacrifice.”
(QUICK CUTTO’s: DC STRATTON’s career-defining SWANTON SENTON out of the ring at CRASH 45! BLAINE HOLLYWOOD landing the “That’s Entertainment!” on the Halo-Vested RAYNE! Security and paramedics trying to calm down a frantic STRATTON…)
O’CONNOR V/O: “We live in a world where there are no villains…”
(FAST & FURIOUS MONTAGE: KIN HIROSHI debuting in NFW 2000, all 200 fans packed into THE VAULT are going completely nuts as SOUTHERN blasts ARMANDO MONTEZUMA with a Superkick! SHANE SOUTHERN winning the NFW World Championship at CRASHMAS 2 – people crying at ringside in Paul Tsongas Arena! NOVA leaping off the SAN DIEGO BOARDWALK onto BRANDON YOUNGBLOOD during the Ultratitle Season 2 Wrestlestock Tour! KIN HIROSHI stuck in the ‘Felix Stretch,’ RED pulling back on his unconscious body! NOVA getting his arms raised by ELI FLAIR and MIKE RANDALLS at the infamous ‘How the West was Won’ Cheyenne Season 2 Season Finale! HIROSHI getting electrocuted by paramedics! NOVA holding up the Ultratitle 2 Trophy at Wrestlebowl 2! HIROSHI holding up the NFW World Championship after defeating FELIX RED! NOVA on his knees at WRESTLESTOCK TWO staring into the newly won NFW World Championship!)
O’CONNOR V/O: “…because there are NO HEROES.”
(MONTAGE cnt’d: SOUTHERN breaking the Ultratitle Season 1 Trophy across MICHAEL MANSON’s head! SOUTHERN piledriving him on the pieces! HIROSHI slapping DAN RYAN in the face! HIROSHI taking the crazy DOUBLE-STOMP by RED in 2007! NOVA ripping the World Championship out of a referee’s hands! A still-photograph of NOVA mounted on a bloodied LORD COYNER POLLARD, belt raised over his hand with both hands…ready to be slammed on POLLARD’s skull, NOVA’s eyes bulging in anger…another photograph blends over it of KIN HIROSHI running away from authorities with NOVA’s title!)
O’CONNOR V/O: “But we live in a world of REVOLUTION and one day that may champion CHANGE.”
QUICK CUTTO’s: An overhead shot of the back of a man staring at IMPULSE’s mask on a table. FELIX RED sitting alone in his trailer straight at a mirror. TERESA QUARANTA and STEVE KNOX arriving on a split-screen shot. DC STRATTON bobbing back and forth, listening to music in his trailer. JOE THE PLUMBER walking along the Daytona Beach coastal highway, Television Championship slung over his shoulder. FADETOBLACK)
(FADEIN: A black screen...)
KERRY O’CONNOR: V/O) “DAAAAAAAAAAAAYTONUHHHHHHH BEEEEEEEACH, FLAHHHHHHHHRIDA!”
(MUSICUP: ‘Sleep Now in the Fire – RATM)
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
(FADEIN: The Daytona Beach coastal skyline erupting with a cavalcade of fireworks and pyrotechnics! An overhead camera swoops over the crowd barricaded along the breezy beach, signs thrusting in the air and camera flashes popping everywhere!)
O’CONNOR V/O: “THIS IS GROUND ZERO! (CROWD ROARS!) AND YOU HAVE REEEEEEEEEACHED! CRRRRRR—“
(SFX: A loud screech occurs!)
(QUICK CUTTO: O’CONNOR and LAMONT HOLLYWOOD looking around confusedly as the music stops, the STARtron fizzles out and the pyrotechnics die out. Neither can talk into their microphones, as the crowd starts buzzing loudly!)
V/O: “Y’know, after FORTY-FIVE Crash Televisions…I think its time you could use a break, Kerry.”
(CUTTO: The crowd looks towards the entrance ramp with some high expectations over a RARE circumstance that the beginning of a CRASH has been interrupted. Signs have been lowered, flashes shutter everywhere as the crowd starts whistling to the slide guitar intro…)
V/O: “After all, on a night where we will not only celebrate, but PROVE our UNIVERSAL DOMINANCE…I just don’t quite think anyone, but one man should introduce such an occasion.”
(CLOSEUP: A lone spotlight shines near the STARtron, the crowd ROARING! ‘The Boss’ CRAIG MILES stands there proudly with a beaming smile and an American Spirit dangling precariously from his lips. There’s a microphone in his hand, while his silver sunglasses reflect the sparkling scene of camera bulbs and lighters. MILES walks slowly down the ramp, as the single spotlight is the only thing illuminating the proceedings besides the city skyline and starry night. MILES steps through the ropes slowly, he’s in full Generalissimo regalia.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “Well, sweet Mary I think we’ve got audio Lamont!”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “What the hell’s going on, Beanfry – I don’t think this was on the itinerary for this evening!”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “I don’t know Woodman, Craig Miles…the BOSSMAN himself has broken up OUR introduction for his own…I think the best thing to do as always in this situation is to just sit back and let it ride.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Since when did you start taking your wife’s advice?”
(CLOSEUP: MILES looking out at the raucous crowd with a huge smile, he starts pacing around the ring and puffing on his cigarette.)
MILES: “The WRESTLING REVOLUTION as we like to play it…it isn’t just something for this underground rock n’ roll ride we’re all taking show by show. This is something that’s taking over GLOBALLY. There are universes upon universes of wrestling federations claiming they’ve got the best story or the best wrestling or maybe they talk about having the craziest freaks.”
(MILES takes a moment to take in the cheers from the crowd, inhaling deeply…)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “I’m pretty sure we’re not even allowed to sit on that table ‘cause we weird out the crazy freaks.”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “Quiet this sounds like it could be important…”
MILES: “But we’re the ones that have them ALL. We’re the ones that FREAK THE F(BLEEP!)K out of the freaks, we’re the ones that turn wrestling purists inside out, drop them on their heads and show them the TRUE SPIRIT of a wrestler…”
(The crowd chants “EN-EFF-DUB!” as MILES smirks, while exhaling a smoke ring.)
MILES: “Just in these past few weeks, we had a man that walked into the frightful world of (MILES quotes the air) REALITY (unquote) wrestling television…”
(The crowd slowly dies into a murmur…buzzing slightly in confusion after a few moments of pause from MILES as he takes another quick puff off his American Spirit.)
MILES: “Yeah, I’m talking about Thursdays on FX…I’m talking about your EX (spit) TV. (MILES starts counting off) PRIMEADONNAS, Gee See Done, Sin City COCKless Wrestling, the OTHER white EPW meat….”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “You know…for a guy that’s trying to work with so many global promotions, he sure has a knack for welcoming them here.”
(MILES stops counting off and just shakes his head, acting like he’s even shocked he should be discussing this…)
MILES: “…and while I won’t sit everyone down for a six hour lecture on how that’s working out for them all… It’s not as sad as the pimpled fat college reject that’s crying about the YouTube fed I REFUSE to mention ‘cause…THEY ARE ON YOUTUBE.
(MILES takes a slow drag…exhales another smoke ring.)
MILES: “I know that there’s probably some unpublished grad-school writer wondering how I can be so crudely cliché…”
(MILES motions to the camera to come close, his silver sunglasses refracting the colorful array of lights surrounding the outdoor CRASH TV…)
MILES: “Welcome to ENN-EFF-F(BLEEP!)KING DOUBLE YOU. Welcome to the home of the ONLY Revolution that matters…the WRESTLING Revolution!”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Can you please tell me what the hell Miles is talking about right now?
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “…Probably, but I don’t think I want to hear your thoughts on it either.”
(MILES flicks his cigarette away and makes a motion towards the STARtron, while crowd roars in approval!)
MILES: (pointing into the camera)“You are dealing with ME…because STEVE KNOX came on your wife’s tits, he sawed your sister’s snatch and most of all… CONQUERED YOUR E-L33T LOVING AS(BLEEP!)HOLE.”
(MUSICUP: "Hysteria" - Muse. CUTTO: The entryway, where two poles rise up from places in the entryway. The crowd ROARS as two women wearing barely anything step out from the curtains, go to the poles, and start dancing on them. As the bass introduction of "Hysteria" gives way to the drums, more women come out from the back and form what could only be described as a mob and a crowd. As the drums give way to the heavy guiars of the song, blasts of pyro erupt from directly above the entryway. Lights and lasers went off all around the entrance, in the tune of "Hysteria's guitars.)
H'WOOD: (V/O) "Geez, what's with this intro?"
(CUTTO: Steve Knox emerging from the entryway, being mobbed by the women who all seem to want his autograph. The Elite Championship is slung over his shoulder, and he actually does stop to sign a couple of autographs. The crowd roars as Steve signs his way through the crowd, only to be confronted by something that has been brought out to the aisleway during Steve's signing process: A large golden pyramid that's being pulled by what appeared to be large, beefy women. Steve looks at this spectacle with a large degree of surprise, and then just shrugs and climbs on the thing.)
O'CONNOR: (V/O) "When the hell did that get here?"
H'WOOD: (V/O) "I don't know, Beanfry. I don't know."
(The pyramid is pushed down the ring, with Steve Knox holding up his newly won Elite Championship for all to see. He gets to the ring, and Steve simply hops from the pyramid to the ring apron. The pyramid starts to get moved back to the back, while Steve Knox walks to Craig Miles and shakes his hand before taking the microphone from him and looking out at the cheering crowd as Miles rolls out of the ring.)
O'CONNOR: (V/O) "This man went through three difficult opponents to win that championship that's over his shoulder."
H'WOOD: (V/O) "He's not as awesome as he thinks he is, Beanfry."
(Steve Knox faces the nearest camera, and he begins to talk.)
KNOX: "Well, I don't know about all that, really. Sure, I went to Ringside... and I beat the EPW World Champion. And not Empire Pro Wrestling, but Evolution Pro Wrestling. ...Honestly, too many acronyms for me to keep up with. Then I went to said Evolution Pro, and I beat the SCCW Universal Champion. Now, I don't know how one tops beating a champion of the universe, but nevertheless, I feel like I've accomplished that because after I beat Andy Murray at PRIME's Colossus......"
(CUT-TO: A closeup of the Elite Championship, which Steve Knox takes off his shoulder and holds up for everyone to see.)
KNOX: "...I was given this."
(CUT-TO: Steve Knox, setting the Championship back onto its place on his shoulder.)
KNOX: "Now, while I haven't forgotten that I have the NFW National Championship to win tonight, I can honestly say that being the Elite Champion is... awesome."
CROWD: "RAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH~!"
KNOX: "Being the Elite Champion proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am what I've always claimed I've been... awesome. Breathtakingly, purely awesome. When I say that, I don't mean it as a show of arrogance. I mean what I say. I am awesome. I play in a different league from the rest of NFW, the League of Awesome. So I can't really be better than everyone else, I'm just on a different level from everyone else. Something like that, anyway. ...Seriously, I drew a diagram and I misplaced it."
(The crowd murmurs, as Steve Knox scratches at an area behind his right ear.)
KNOX: "Being the Champion is a great feeling, something I can't bring to any other words other than two... Super awesome. And it will only get more awesome as time goes on, because I am going to take NFW by storm, too. Tonight, I'll start with the National Championship. And down the road, I'm staring that World Championship down. Bank on it, NFW… Bank on--"
(CUEUP: DOGS BARKING, SNARLING!)
O'CONNOR: (V/O) "Well, we know who THIS is… *sigh*"
(MUSICUP: "Dog Shit" - Old Dirty Bastard)
#All y'all b(BLEEP!)es put your naps together#
(CUTTO: The entryway, once more, as JOE THE PLUMBER marches through the curtain, out onto the stage. We can plainly see that he is wearing a designer Ed Hardy tee-shirt, which he stole it off some fan on his way to the arena. His gut protrudes out from the bottom of the shirt, which is at least three sizes too small, mind you. Nevertheless, Joe walks from one side of the stage to the other, hoisting up his NFW World Television Championship, and letting out an animalistic "UGHNNN!," as he reaches the edge of the set. The fans reply with a collective "UGHNNN!" of their own, cheering and applauding. Joe moves to the center of the stage, and, with a microphone in hand, stares down at the two men in the ring with disdain. He does NOT look pleased. His music cuts out, and Joe is left standing, surveying the situation.)
JTP: "What do we have 'ere? Some kinda party? Some kinda… celebration?"
(QUICK CUTTO: Steve Knox, shrugging, and then nodding, in the middle of the ring. CUTTO: Joe, scratching his lice-infested scalp, chuckling to himself.)
JTP: "That's funny, real funny! Miles comes on out 'ere and publicly strokes the ego of Steve 'Roll-'a-Dimes' Cocks! Yee-haw! Aren't we all so privileged to be in the company of Steve f(BLEEP!)in' Knox! The 'Elite' Champion, as he would *like* to be called!"
(Joe mockingly bows repeatedly in an "I'm Not Worthy"-type fashion. He stands up straight, again, turns, and spits on the floor dismissively.)
JTP: "Bulls(BLEEP!)t, if you ask me! 'Elite?' Please! Give me a f(BLEEP!)in' break!"
(CLOSEUP: Joe's face contorted in disgust.)
JTP: "What've you done to deserve the title of 'Elite,' huh? You beat a few small-time bums on a few small-time shows, and suddenly you're 'ELITE?' Nuh-uh, son! I'll tell ya what makes you 'Elite'… Holdin' a championship belt for sixteen straight months and counting makes you 'Elite!' Beatin' everyone put in front of you, week after week, for months on end, without ducking a single person,. makes you 'Elite!' You, Steve Knox, are NOT elite! You're a nobody in my eyes! Practically invisible if not for your holier-than-thou stench and by-the-numbers promos! Your fans are a bunch of annoying f(BLEEP!)in' kids that think spending their parents' forty bucks on an "AWESOME" tee-shirt makes them cool! MY demographic would bully or sexually molest YOUR demographic! My fans didn't have a childhood! They didn't play in any f(BLEEP!)in' sandbox, or have a collection of action figures! They never played marbles in the dirt with their pals! They were too f(BLEEP!)in' busy robbin' old ladies and bustin' out windows! Havin' brick-fights with one another! Straight not givin' a ****! Like I said: You're invisible to me. Your accomplishments nonexistent. And never mind the fact that my vision is a bit f(BLEEP!)ed up at the moment from the blunt I smoked backstage before coming out here, I can see right through you! You're SCARED of me, just like everyone else in the NFW locker room! I instill fear in my opponents because *I am* -- I repeat *I am* -- the 'Elite Champion' in this, and any other, fed in pro-wrastlin' today! And I'm gonna prove that tonight when I whoop Kin Hiroshi's yellow ass, and then Nova's, one more time, at SUPERCrash! I'll soon be the first double champion in NFW history! The Sucka-Free f(BLEEP!)in' Bouse, an immortal for all-time! A legend! The greatest wrastler ever! Period!"
(Joe pauses for a second to allow a smirk to form, pinning the corners of his mouth, and displaying a few of his disgusting baked bean teeth.)
"But… you know what? Three's a WHOLE HELL OF A LOT better than two… even if the third is kind of worthless… so why don't you MAN THE F(BLEEP!) UP AND GIVE THE GREASY BEAST A SHOT AT YOUR TITLE, THE SAME WAY I DID FOR YOU BACK AT WRESTLESTOCK II!"
(The "Workin' Man" raises the microphone up over his head in order to pick up the response of the crowd, which is a bit of a mixed reaction. It seems the fans don't appreciate the slandering of their hero Steve Knox by Joe.)
JTP: "KNOX VERSUS JOE, COME ON! LET'S DO IT, FELLA! LET'S GET 'R DONE!"
(This time the crowd EXPLODES for the potential match-up between two of NFW's biggest and most decorated stars.)
JTP: "Or would Miles, that snake-in-the-grass f(BLEEP!)in' faggot-ass Jew, rather I clear out my division ONE MORE TIME before I start gettin' what I deserve? I mean, I had to stomp everyone in the gawddamn f(BLEEP!)in' fed out before you finally decided to give me some much as an opportunity to earn a shot at the NFW World Heavyweight Title! I know, I know, I don't fit the 'Wrestling Revolution' model, am I right? My belly's too big? My ass' too smelly? Hair's a bit too tangled and greasy? Not enough of it? I guess I should be punished for having a receding hairline and bad skin, right? Simply put, like my boy Rodney Dangerfield, I can't get no respect!"
(Joe flips both of them off, then reaches around and pulls his trusty toilet plunger out from the back pocket of his overalls. He holds it up to his eye line, clutching its handle with his meaty, calloused paws.)
JTP: "Seems your average person doesn't like having the sh(BLEEP!)t-caked head of this 'ere plunger suctioned to their face… Go figure."
(Joe shrugs.)
JTP: "This is how I get my respect. I come at motherf(BLEEP!)ers like Leatherface! Chasin' you down in the woods, wherever you wanna run! I'll find ya! My point is, you cannot exclude me from title contention! All "Sorry, I'm busy, schedule's full" -- whatta fag! That's a b(BLEEP!)h move! Gimme the gawddamn title already! Knox, you're f(BLEEP!)in' Balls McGee! A f(BLEEP!)in' GARBAGE MAN, f(BLEEP!)in' slangin' garbage bags all day, everyday! Put down the garbage bags and MAN UP! You'll find out that Ol' Joe's game is sick and twisted! I know I intimidate you! You wanna climb into my pants and seek refuge underneath my ball sack! But I'm all "Uh, just put 'em in your mouth like usual, and we'll discuss living arrangements in the morning." I *say* that, but I don't *mean* that! I'm a nasty son of a b(BLEEP!)h! I kick a whore out of bed after violating her virgin asshole WITHOUT lube! No doubt, that's for real, baby boi! It's `bout time you faced a REAL challenger! `Cause, as it stands, I'm the only one who holds a victory over you. So like Nova, you're time's up, and my time's NOW, b(BLEEP!)h! Come on, whaddaya say! Let's do it! One-on-one! After I dispose of that fag Nova at SUPERCrash, you and I'll cross swords, and I'll EAT… YOU… ALIVE!"
(The microphone lowers, and Joe effectively puts an exclamation point on his long, meandering, and maniacal tirade by snarling a resounding "UGHNNN!" one more time.)
(Steve Knox pauses for a short minute, before he reaches into his pocket and pulls out what appears to be a roll of Mentos.)
KNOX: "Breath mint?"
(Joe glares at Knox, but before he has a chance to say anything...)
"I got a thing…you got a thing…everybody's got a thing…"
(MUSICUP - "I Got A Thing" by Funkadelic)
(The crowd POPS~! something NASTY as the heavy, somber funk tune rolls out of the PA system. As he's standing in the center of the entrance ramp, Joe looks around feverishly for any sign of the EAGLEstar. Sections of fans begin swaying to the infectious P-Funk rhythms, and another round of cheers go up as a spotlight shoots down on the far left corner of the entrance ramp, where NOVA sits dangling his legs over the edge, still clad in swim trunks and body paint. Joe jumps backward and then re-asserts himself, balling his fists and blowing a wad of snot onto the stage. Nova spares a glance for the men gathered in the ring, then a look over at Joe, and finally a scanning glance around the audience.)
NOVA: (Taking a drag) "True story. I was outside on a balcony with my travel bong, and I had spent like fifteen minutes crumbling up this UBER-funky weed into the slide, when I was struck by the horrific realization that I must have dropped my lighter whilst giving chase to the worst export from Asia since bird flu - Kin Hiroshi. So there I sat, sober as a stone, wondering how I was gonna remedy my situation…and then Joe the Plumber started talking, and I swear to you - each of you - I looked up into the sky, and I saw the ozone layer directly over Daytona start to burn away in outward-moving concentric circles, allowing for a small beam of unfiltered light to shoot down and ignite my bong-slide, giving me the tastiest rip I've had in well over a week." (Looks over to Joe) "So thanks, Joseph…I'm high as a f(BLEEP!)ing KITE right now."
JTP: (Grabbing his crotch) "I got some SPF 2000 for ya right HURR! HAW HAW HAW!!!"
NOVA: (Wagging a finger at him) "You. I'll come back to you." (Pointing to Knox) "Congratulations, Knoxville. You did what we all knew you were quite capable of doing. Maybe now the other promotions will stop treating the Frontier like a cute retarded cousin who says shit nobody can understand."
(The crowd roars for the home-fed props, igniting an "EN-EFF-DUB! EN-EFF-DUB!" chant that gathers steam until…)
NOVA: "BUT! But…it bears mentioning that while you might be certifiably 'Elite'..." (Gesturing around with one arm) "…in THIS place, within THESE walls, *I* am the King of the Mother-F(BLEEP!)in' Mountain."
(A mixed reaction from the crowd, cheers from Season Two loyalists and Counter-Revolutionaries, along with a smattering of jeers from converts to the Church of Awesomeness.)
NOVA: "That said, you earned it, and while you have it, I won't come after it. I hope you keep doing what you're doing, and also that you appreciate the eight years of history YOU represent to the "outside world," certainly a world more open to the Frontier's brand of madness than it used to be."
(Knox shrugs and nods, cinching his hold on the Elite Championship. Nova's eyes shift from him to Miles, whose grin suggests how entertained he is by all this. The EAGLEstar offers him a nod, and then turns back to Joe, who would probably be asleep on his feet right now without the hunger pangs in his stomach for crack cocaine.)
NOVA: "Awww, whuzzamatta, Joe? Had to go a WHOLE YEAR without getting your wang dobbed by the administration?" (Lighting a fresh cigarette) "Yes sir, I bet all the s(BLEEP!)t-mopping in the whole world doesn't make you feel as dirty as knowing that nobody upstairs gives a good goddamn about what JOE wants, not while they can just slap your ugly mug on t-shirts, posters, and - God help me how THESE sell - lunchboxes. Go to hell with your complaining, Joseph, I've got that market cornered even while I sit in the Daddy Chair lovin' life. I was earning my spot at the top of the Frontier YEARS AGO, while you were still holed up somewhere in the Dust Belt, pouring a spoonful of motor oil on Big Bill Judo's c(BLEEP!)k to help the medicine go down."
JTP: (Stomping up and down) "THAT WAS A LIFETIME AGO!! Huffin' gasoline'll rob ANYBODY 'a their senses! Mmmm, BOY! The higher the octane, the HIGHER OL' JOE gets and the sweeter that precious truck-stop 'tang tastes! Mmmm, gimme that 91! F(BLEEP!)it ma', GIMME THE 94 LIKE A REAL BOUSE!"
KNOX: "Ummm, hello? Nothing awesome happening on the entrance ramp. This is MY victory celebration!"
Nova swings his legs around and stands up. The fans begin cheering as he walks across the entrance ramp to within a few feet of Joe.)
NOVA: "No, no. Nobody's stallin' out on olllll' Joe. In fact, you're right on time - IF you can clear the hurdle of a delusional baking-obsessed Japanese cold sore. See, I remember ANOTHER undefeated NFW champion who got Fifteen in the Sun from Mgmt., and she left Crash 46 with the same belt she rode in with! When the dust settled Teresa Q. was one loss wiser and I was still World Heavyweight Champion, and if you see the other side of Kin Hiroshi, Joe, that's exactly what's gonna happen to you. Twenty-five guys got NOTHIN' on me, 'cuz none of 'em wanted to take the TV Title away from your bloated waist as bad I want to KEEP the World Heavyweight Championship around mine. The Plumber or the Muffin Man, I don't care, I'll send you both packing. And I'll do the same to whoever they line up after that."
(Nova steps away from Joe, directing his gaze back into the ring.)
NOVA: "Who knows?" (Pointing at Knox) "Maybe it'll be YOU."
(The EAGLEstar drops his mic, spares another smirk at Joe, and walks back through the curtain. QUICK CUTTO: CRAIG MILES entering the ring as STEVE KNOX and JOE stare at him as he grabs the mic. MILES waves at the crowd to quiet down, then points at JOE.)
MILES: “Did you just call me a f*ggot-(BLEEP!) jew?”
(The crowd gets LOUD as JOE starts nodding in approval and yelling obscenities. He stops short as MILES pounds his pointed index finger into his chest.)
MILES: “I want you to go to the Koopa’s locker room right now…and CLEAN HIS TOILET.”
(The crowd starts booing! MILES doesn’t even stop as JOE tries to interject. KNOX shudders and says “Good luck, buddy.”)
MILES: “Or I will FIRE YOU RIGHT NOW.”
(The crowd remains loud as JOE and MILES are now locked in a staredown.)
MILES: “No JOB. NO TV TITLE. NO SARS. NO NOVA. NO MONEY. NO FOOD. I will count to TEN and you will make that turtle freak’s sh(BLEEP!)tank as sparkling as Howie Mandel’s skull. ONE…TWO…”
O’CONNOR (V/O) “He can’t be serious…”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Oh he’s DEAD SERIOUS right now Beanfry!”
(CUTTO: JOE looking out to the crowd for advice as they start screaming loudly as MILES continues counting. With a sullen sink of the head, JOE nods and exits the ring and leaves the ring. The crowd starts chanting “JOE! JOE! JOE!” as the Plumber looks back at MILES who screams back “FIVE!” As JOE heads up the ramp, MILES watches him the whole way until he’s backstage.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “I’m a little in shock right now, this whole opening to the show has taken the weirdest left turn I could’ve possibly expected.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Miles is turning back towards Knox and I don’t think the Elite boy thinks it feels too awesome.”
(CLOSE-UP: MILES pacing around KNOX who adjusts the Elite Championship slung over his shoulder, albeit looking a little nervous under the silver sunglassed stare.)
MILES: “Y’know, I invited some contenders from the PRIMETIME to show up and shut you up. Unfortunately, we have someone dressed like an elf backstage and that’s about it. Let’s face it, none of those federations would want to step within two feet of NFW. (MILES’ grin widens) Which is why I’ve invited their chosen #1 contender to SUPERCrash 2. (LOUD ROARS!) Where you WILL defend that Elite Championship no matter what happens later tonight.”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “OH MY! An Elite Championship match at NFW SUPERCrash 2…it looks like NFW is putting their money where their mouth is!”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “And its not around a crackpipe for once!”
(MILES drops the mic with a thud, while the crowd goes wild in the background. As we FADEOUT, you can see KNOX mutter two words: “Awwwwww crap.”)
(FADEIN: A black and white camera shot of a locker room, where TERESA QUARANTA is looking at her locker room wall. The HAIL DISCORDIA! Logo is spraypainted on the wall, but streaked over in blood red reads 22:20. Underneath, it reads “ Thou shall not follow false idols or follow lost prophets but then again some of us just want to watch the world burn right?”)
QUARANTA: (shaking her head dismissively) “Stupid little children.”
(FADETOBLACK)
(FADEIN: The crowd standing in unison and booing LOUDLY as ‘Going to California’ by Sevendust is blaring over the speakers, while red carpet lights are swirling around the starry sky. QUICK CUTTO: THE HOLLYWOOD WRECKING CREW standing on the entrance ramp looking at the crowd in disgust. QUICK CUTTO: DC STRATTON pacing back and forth in the ring.)
O’CONNOR: “WELCOME BACK FANS! DC Stratton wasted no time getting down to ringside during the break, but as per usual…he’s waiting…I’m sorry, maybe I should say SALIVATING at the chance to destroy Blaine Hollywood.”
H’WOOD: “Well, you’re mistaken Beanfry because we know that DC Stratton is one of the longest tenured human beings not checked for prevalent rabies. You saw what happened the last time these two got in the ring! HE BIT MY SON!”
O’CONNOR: “Well, we’ve got a cage match scheduled between two of the most heated rivals in New Frontier Wrestling. Although, it seems that your son isn’t exactly enthr—oh sweet moses, why is Calvin getting a microphone?”
H’WOOD: “I’m sure its to educate this crowd on the finer things in life, you should get your wife to listen Beanfry…lord knows she’s spent more time mud wrestling than cooking you dinner.”
(CUTTO: CALVIN CARLTON holding up a microphone to his lips, as he holds his racket in the air.)
CARLTON: “Y’know, considering my heritage and dedication to the Southern Confederacy over the last five years…(LOUD BOOS!) The least you sycophants can do is stand up and applaud the GREATEST WRESTLING TAG TEAM of the 21st CENTURY!”
(The crowd gets even louder in their hate as MALIK, BLAINE and CALVIN hold up their arms only to look on in shock at the disrespect they’re getting.)
H’WOOD: “After all Calvin’s done for the South, this is the thanks he gets!?”
O’CONNOR: “Well, I doubt Frankie Fargo or Brandon Mueller or Joey Melton feel the same way!”
H’WOOD: “…heretics.”
(CUTTO: BLAINE grabs the microphone from CALVIN CARLTON and points towards the ring.)
HOLLYWOOD: “I bet you’re enjoying this Stratton! See, I’m not surprised that you’d have all the rednecks and senile senior citizens of this state all congregating to let loose their HATRED on HOLLYWOOD. (LOUD BOOS!) I serve this society how EYE see fit, Stratton…if that means horse collaring your wide-open legged girlfriend and breaking her back, so she doesn’t lay on it for her ONE-MILLIONTH customer that’s FINE by ME!”
(QUICK CUTTO: STRATTON being restrained by the referee from leaving the ring, while the crowd starts hurtling trash at the HWC…)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “This is just going great.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “I agree!”
HOLLYWOOD: “See, that’s fine that you all can throw your 32 oz. Sonic Shakes five feet over my head. Its not my fault this state is swarming with a strong enough stench of Skoal and Geritol that you people have become so idiotic, you can’t even punch a hole in a chad!”
CARLTON: (trying to grab the mic) “Blaine…no, bad idea…”
HOLLYWOOD: (ripping the mic back) “Cal, relax…its not like any of these people can run two feet at us without puking up an early bird special from Denny’s…Florida’s always been the greasy armpit stain of the South!”
(All of a sudden the lights go pitch black everywhere! The crowd starts roaring! The HWC look around confused, Blaine focusing on the fact that his mic has been cut off.)
…
(MUSICUP: ‘VOODOO CHILE’ – Jimi Hendrix and the Band of Gypsies! The crowd MARKS out!)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “NO! NO! I FORGOT BEANFRY! I FORGOT HE’S FLORIDA’S FAVORITE SON!”
(CUTTO: EL PRESIDENTE EDDIE MAYFIELD flanked by COJONES MERCARDO and the NFW Insurgent Security, standing right behind the Hollywood Wrecking Crew as the lights blast full-on red out of the STARtron. Each and every one of them in their NFW fatigues and boots.)
MAYFIELD: (waving off the festivities) “Cut the music! Cut the music!”
(MAYFIELD storms towards the HWC, CAL starts backpedaling frantically while MALIK and BLAINE stand tall…not exactly understanding what’s going on.)
HOLLYWOOD: “Mister President, I believe you are out here to cancel this ma—“
(MAYFIELD gets mere inches from BLAINE’s face, the entrance into his ‘comfort’ zone making him pause in mid-sentence. EDDIE grabs the microphone out of his hand, giving a “You don’t mind, do you?” half-smirk as he does so. MAYFIELD pulls out one of his presidential cigars and sticks it in his craw, patiently waiting until RAUL scurries out from behind the Insurgents to light it.)
MAYFIELD: (nodding) “I had a little guilty pleasure of liking you, Blaine…you were the first wrestler I’d seen since the 1950’s that figured out 78 different synonyms for trailor-park trash. You’re smart, kid…but sometimes you get a little ‘too smart,’ if you catch my drift. See, I happen to be a man born in the state of Florida.”
(CUTTO: The crowd chanting “YOU FUNK’D UP!” as BLAINE starts looking at them with a confused and angry glare.)
MAYFIELD: “See, its easy for you to FORGET the history of this sport and those providing these moments for you when you ride on the coattails of a father who will always love me MORE than you as a WRESTLING HEEL.”
(The crowd gives one of those “BURN!” ooooh’s as BLAINE looks incredulously at them in response.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “Say something Lamont!”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Uhh…err…”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “THAT’S YOUR SON OUT THERE!”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “AND MY BOSS! (mutters quietly) And who I pay $4.95 monthly to be in his fanclub. (/mutter)”
(BLAINE takes a step towards MAYFIELD, but MALIK puts his hand on his shoulder to stop him as several Insurgents step forward. BLAINE realizing the numbers and situation, gulps deeply but keeps a hardened stare at MAYFIELD. MAYFIELD gives a tip of his Guevarra cap to MALIK and takes a thoughtful inhale on the cigar.)
MAYFIELD: “You know what I smell right now, Blaine?”
(MAYFIELD sniffs the air)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Can he smell what Bonnie Mayfield’s cooking…oh, who am I kidding!? IT DOESN’T MATTER WHAT BONNIE MAYFIELD IS COOKING!”
MAYFIELD: “I smell BLOOD in the WATER, Blaine. I think you’ve been trying to put this match on hold because you’re afraid of a 200 pound emocidal freak has something on you. And to try and duck him again, Blaine…well, that’s just not very PROFESSIONAL. (crowd pop!) And since I know every trick in the book…”
(MAYFIELD pauses and points out CARLTON trying to sneak through the crowd, COJONES takes after him and drags him away from the barricade, where fans are pushing him back towards the entrance ramp.)
MAYFIELD: “See, when there’s blood in the water…you know what comes after that, Blaine? SHARKS. And right now, I think that’s very fitting as you wrestle in that cage with DC Stratton OR forfeit your titles…”
(BLAINE freaks out and makes a motion towards MAYFIELD, but holds his hands up and apologize as several Insurgents immediately charge and grasp him.)
MAYFIELD: “…while your PARTNER and MANAGER hang in a SHARK CAGE above the ring!”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “IS HE KIDDING!?”
(The crowd EXPLODES! QUICK CUTTO: A crane carrying a huge shark cage towards the ringside area as the crowd completely MARKS! QUICK CUTTO: MALIK ANDERSON throwing aside Insurgents who are trying to get him down to ringside as CARLTON gets dragged down!)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “This is awful, Beanfry! Blaine didn’t know about Eddie’s lineage, he never had the chance to apologize!”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “We’re in some weird twilight zone ‘cause I’m LIKING what Eddie Mayfield just did! Security is having way too hard of a time trying to get Malik Anderson to ringside…its been well-documented that he hasn’t dealt with some certain HIGH spots.”
(CLOSEUP: The ringside area, where technicians are putting the final touches on the open roof steel cage, while MALIK and CARLTON are finally shoved into ringside. MERCADO is leading the force, ANDERSON glaring at him then his chair. HOLLYWOOD is giving MAYFIELD some guff on the entrance ramp, while more Insurgents make sure he’s walking down to the ring where officials are still restraining STRATTON. CUTTO: O’CONNOR and H’WOOD at ringside, both shaking their heads in different phases of disbelief.)
H’WOOD: “Nothing about this seems right, Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “I’ll say this much, but maybe DC Stratton’s 2001 War Games roots are playing a soft little heartstring in Eddie Mayfield’s chest because I’ve never seen him do anything somewhat honorable like this.”
H’WOOD: “I’m…I’m in shock.”
(CLOSEUP: CARLTON getting thrown in the shark cage, while maybe a double-digit number of Insurgents are trying to push MALIK in while he butterflies his arms around the doorway to stop them.)
O’CONNOR: “LOOK OUT! (SFX: THWACK! Crowd groans!) MERCADO WITH A CHAIRSHOT! MALIK tumbles into the cage and now Blaine Hollywood and DC Stratton are set to do battle…Insurgents are finally clearing out of Stratton’s way, WAIT LOOK OUT! (CROWD GROANS!) BLAINE’S ATTACKING STRATTON FROM BEHIND! HE SNUCK IN WITH A CLOTHESLINE! (LOUD BOOS!) Blaine’s stomping him!”
H’WOOD: “I’m torn, Beanfry! What a move, but this situation still reeks and Malik may kill Calvin in that cage out of insanity!”
(CUTTO: The crowd pumping their fists in the air as the shark cage gets carried high into the air, Malik going spastically insane and causing the thing to wobble! CARLTON digs into his suit pocket and pull out a bottle of pills…)
O’CONNOR: “Blaine Hollywood, the second generation tag team champion is stomping a hole through Stratton right now! He’s turned him over and OH! (boos!) He just slapped him in the face!”
(CUTTO: MALIK pushing off CARLTON as the manager tries to stuff some pills into his mouth, which causes them to fall to the mat! BLAINE immediately notices and picks some of them up and starts shoving them into STRATTON’s mouth while screaming, “Let me show you how your mother tried to kill herself right after having you!”)
O’CONNOR: “Oh, that’s just wrong.”
H’WOOD: “And I thought it was well-documented.”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s spitting out the pills, but watch out! (groans!) Vicious stomp by Blaine, who’s in the Oxonian crested white trunks. Blaine brings him up and nails a vicious uppercut to Stratton’s grill which sends him staggering away into the cage. Here comes Blaine! (CROWD SCREAMS!) OH NO! OH NO! BLAINE RAKING DC’S FACE ACROSS THE CAGE LIKE WINDSHIELD WIPERS!”
H’WOOD: “Even against all these odds, we’re going to see my boy make history tonight Beanfry! Against all odds, against Eddie Mayfield’s odds, he’s going to show everyone that he’s the greatest wrestler to walk into this godless place!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s already busted open, Malik Anderson still hasn’t calmed down up there and I won’t be surprised if Cal vomits out the side. Look out! Blaine with a high knee into the back of DC Stratton’s shoulder and he gets sent flying into the opposite side cage wall! Don’t forget that right shoulder of DC Stratton has been severely injured over the last few months by this man!”
H’WOOD: “That’s a bold-faced lie! He injured it trying to end my son’s career!”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine has DC by the hair and starts waxing him back and forth Miyagi style against the cage again…whirls him around…(LOUD BOOS!) Oh c’mon! He just slapped him across the face, why does your son do that!?”
H’WOOD: “He’s educating the lower class on the chance of Barack Obama winning the presidency under our watch.”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine has DC by the hair and look out! (groans!) He just rammed him shoulderfirst into the turnbuckles – he’s got him by the seat of pants and does it again! Stratton yelping in pain, trying to hold his shoulder and Blaine turns him around…and now he’s got that arm wrapped around the ropes and is tugging on it! DC with a right hand response, but Blaine buries a knee to the gut…and follows that up with a nasty uppercut! Blaine’s got DC by the arm and whips him across the ring, look out! (LOUD CHEERS!) NOBODY HOME! BLAINE EATS THE BUCKLES AND TURNS AROUND INTO A RIGHT HAND! ANOTHER RIGHT HAND! (MORE CHEERS!) DROPKICK BY STRATTON!”
H’WOOD: “Someone check him for loaded boots!”
O’CONNOR: “DC climbs up the turnbuckles and he’s pounding away on Blaine’s head, listen to these fans Lamont!”
H’WOOD: “They’re savage animals!”
O’CONNOR: (w/crowd) “FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEV—UH-OH! (crowd buzzes!) Blaine’s carrying him out, Inverted Atomic Dr—NO! (cheers!) DC leaps away and catches Hollywood with another dropkick! Blaine back in the corner, but here comes DC! (cheers!) Monkey Fl—NO! Blaine landed on his feet! WHAT ATHLETICISM!”
H’WOOD: “You can only learn that trick in Oxford gymnastics!”
O’CONNOR: “DC kips up, but he’s in the line of fire! CLOTHESLI—NO! DC ducked and Blaine just ricocheted off the cage wall! SPINNING LEG LARIAT BY STRATTON! He’s not even going for the pin! He’s just pounding Blaine with right hands to the temple!”
H’WOOD: “Wait, nobody said how you win this match!”
O’CONNOR: “I believe its only by pinfall or submission since the Suicide Kings camp was certain Blaine would try to escape early and often.”
H’WOOD: “He’s a smart wrestler, that’s why!”
O’CONNOR: “Referee Bruce Phillips just has to maintain some semblance of order, but as with all cage matches in NFW…you really aren’t going to get reprimanded for heavy-handed brawling tactics.”
H’WOOD: “Which is why my son didn’t want this match in the first place, its an outrage to wrestle like simians!”
O’CONNOR: “Shh, we banned that word since Yori left.”
H’WOOD: “Oh right, sorry.”
O’CONNOR: “DC’s now got Blaine by the hair and on his feet…and now he better watch out! (LOUD CHEERS!) INTO THE CAGE! AGAIN! (MORE CHEERS!) HE’S RAPID FIRING BLAINE’S SKULL INTO IT!”
H’WOOD: “But he’s got a Nivea for Oxford Men commercial tomorrow!”
O’CONNOR: (w/crowd) “SIX! SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN! Stratton lets go and he’s letting Blaine teeter and totter around the ring, but look at DC’s face…he’s NOT smiling even with this crowd roaring – he’s got a SOUL determination to possibly end your son’s career!”
H’WOOD: “That will NOT happen, my boy takes after his old man and he’s got something up his sleeve you rest assured!”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine leaning against the other side of the cage in a complete daze and I doubt that’s where he wants to be right now! DC has him by the hair, both men are already cut open…OH BOY! (more cheers!) WAX ON, WAX OFF! WAX ON, WAX OFF! Payback is a certain B-I-T-C-H!”
H’WOOD: “Watch your language, Beanfry! This is F(BLEEP!)ING ridiculous that’s what this is!”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine Hollywood is bleeding like a stuck pig, Stratton’s no better…and we’re not even ten minutes into this match! DC with a boot to the gut, he’s got Blaine doubled over and hooks him…SUPLEX BY STRATTON! He’s still got him hooked and rolls him up to his feet, what a feat by the 200-pounder…LOOK OUT! He just turned him out of the suplex position into a spinning neckbreaker down to the mat! What innovation by one-half of the Suicide Kings!”
H’WOOD: “He’s a surly, jealous and poor former drug addict that’s only playing into the palms of an elite wrestler that just happens to be my son, so don’t claim I’m biased!”
O’CONNOR: “When has anyone ever done that?”
H’WOOD: “Shutup Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “Well, your son may be in more trouble than he’s bargaining for…(crowd starts buzzing) ‘cause Stratton is starting to climb the cage!”
(CLOSEUP: STRATTON climbing the cage with his back turned to the shark cage, where ANDERSON is sitting huddled in the corner rocking back and forth. CARLTON is trying to talk some sense into him, when the crowd cheers alert him to DC. CARLTON immediately freaks and starts panicking…)
O’CONNOR: “Look at Calvin’s face, I love it! Stratton climbing the cage and (CROWD SCREAMS!) WHAT THE DEUCE! CALVIN DROPPED HIS RACKET TO THE MAT! IT LANDED NEAR BLAINE AND HE’S GOT IT!”
H’WOOD: “GENIUS! JUST COMPLETELY GENIUS!”
O’CONNOR: (over screams!) “DC DIDN’T SEE IT! HE’S ON TOP OF THE CAGE, BLAINE IS STANDING UP! STRATTON FLIES! (SFX: THWACK! LOUD GROANS!) NOOOOOOOO!”
H’WOOD: “YESSSSSSSS! BWAHAHAHA!”
O’CONNOR: “DC WENT FOR THE AXEHANDLE, BUT ATE A NADAL OVERHEAD SMASH! Sweet Christmas, that racket’s all bent out of shape and DC Stratton is lolly-gagging around the ring…LOOK OUT! (SFX: THWACK! THWACK!) OH NO! Blaine’s beating DC’s bad shoulder with the racket! Phillips rips away the weapon, but the damage is done! Stratton on the mat…and oh boy, STEP OVER ANDERSON ARMBAR! One of the most basic, yet destructive moves to a shoulder in the wrestling ring!”
H’WOOD: “Its not pretty, its not like Stratton flipping around like a maniac on speed! This is how you WRESTLE, Beanfry…and just like my son said on television, he is going to TEAR APART this freak!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton in an intense amount of pain in the ring as Blaine Hollywood is smacking talk, walking the walk and trying to rip the shoulder out of DC’s socket!”
H’WOOD: “And that’s why he’s the champion and Stratton is the chump.”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine hunkered down on Stratton, yelling to give it up amongst other things…DC’s in a lot of pain, Woodman!”
H’WOOD: “It’ll only hurt more if he doesn’t give it up soon!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton fighting up to his feet (cheers!) He could be turning this around, OH C’MON! (LOUD BOOS!) With a violent tug of the hair, Blaine takes DC back down to the mat, reapplies and cinches in that armbar once more. Nothing like using some family tactics in the ring.”
H’WOOD: “I’ve used the same tactic on your wife twice and she enjoyed it…”
O’CONNOR: “DC Stratton now trying to make his way towards the ropes to break this hold, but I’m almost certain there’s damage already done to that shoulder which was reportedly separated last month at Crash 45.”
H’WOOD: “Well, this is going to become permanent!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s got the ropes! (cheers!) He’s got the ropes, but NO! (boos!) Blaine just dragged him back to the middle of the ring by the hair and kicked him in the head! (more boos!) Blaine locks in the armbar ag—(LOUD CHEERS!) OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD! ITS RAYNE! ITS RAYNE!”
(QUICK CUTTO: RAYNE running out wearing an R.I.S.D. t-shirt, jeans and a Halo Vest around her head and neck area – her eyes are welling up, she’s looking desperate and frantic…)
O’CONNOR: “She’s not even supposed to be in this state tonight, let alone the show!”
H’WOOD: “Well, apparently prostitution has been made legal in this state so she was cleared to show up.”
O’CONNOR: “What is she doing!?”
(CUTTO: Fans going bonkers as Rayne starts scaling the cage wall! QUICK CUTTO: CARLTON shaking the cage in anger, which causes MALIK to freak out from the swaying!)
O’CONNOR: “This place is in pure pandemonium, I’ve never seen anything like this! This poor girl is possibly risking her life for the man she loves…she’s trying to get over the top and OH NO! (CROWD SCREAMS!) BLAINE CAUGHT HER IN THE CORNER OF HIS EYE! HE’S RACING TOWARDS THE CAGE!”
H’WOOD: “THIS COULD BECOME THE SINGLE GREATEST NIGHT IN NFW HISTORY!”
(CUTTO: CARLTON plunging a needle into MALIK’s back as he’s trying to pull the shark cage door apart! MALIK’s eyes cross and he faints.)
H’WOOD: “Ok, maybe not for him.”
O’CONNOR: (over more screams!) “NO! NOOO! HE’S CLIMBING UP AND HE’S GOT HER BY THE HALO AND NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (LOUD CRASH! BOOS!) BLAINE JUST FLIPPED RAYNE INTO THE RING! THAT COULD REINJURE HER SPINE!”
H’WOOD: “I’m wiping away tears, Beanfry. Its like a painting masterpiece…a magical sonnet…I couldn’t be more proud of my son right now. All that’s left is watching Stratton tap in front of this broad.”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine getting ready to stomp Ray—WHAT THE HELL!?!? (LOUD EXPLOSION!) STRATTON JUST RUSHED UP AND SPEARED BLAINE! HE’S ALL OVER HIM!”
H’WOOD: “NONONONONONO!”
O’CONNOR: “HE’S GONE COMPLETELY RABID! Right hand! Left hand! Right! Left! Right! NO! (boos!) Blaine with a thumb to the eye and Stratton staggers up, here comes Blaine! (LOUD ROARS!) DROP TOEHOLD BY STRATTON INTO THE TURNBUCKLES! LOOK OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWT! JUMPING SPRINGBOARD DOUBLE STOMP TO THE HEAD! Blaine’s face just got smashed against Stratton’s boots and the turnbuckles! Are you freaking kidding me!!? Stratton’s lost it, he’s tearing at his hair right now looking at Rayne’s who’s hurt!”
H’WOOD: “What the hell is going on, Beanfry!? Its like this kid just flipped a switch out of nowhere!”
O’CONNOR: “Its called LOVE, HONOR AND RESPECT!”
H’WOOD: “I wouldn’t know of any of those things you speak of!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s got Blaine up in a slam position, OOF! (cheers!) STOMACHBREAKER! Blaine’s rolling around the mat like he’s on fire and look at Stratton’s bloodied face, I swear to god this kid might try and kill your son!”
H’WOOD: “Well, then someone better call up Animal Control!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton has Blaine by the hair and whiplashes a chop across the chest as he stands him up! ANOTHER! ANOTHER! Blaine acting like he’s taking gunfire to the chest! Blaine backpedaling into the corner, making pleas to Stratton and holding up his hands in innocence…”
(CLOSEUP: STRATTON looking back to the unconscious RAYNE, then back at BLAINE who he spits blood into his face before kicking him in the gut!)
O’CONNOR: “Stratton unleashing a rapid fire barrage of kicks to Blaine’s gut! Now, he’s rapid firing shoulderblocks! I think he’s trying to make your son cough out his internal organs on WORLDWIDE television!”
H’WOOD: “I think I’m about to lose my lunch just by watching!”
O’CONNOR: “IRISH WHIP! (LOUD ROARS!) OHSWEETMOSES! He just whipped Blaine so hard he fell down and your son crashed chestfirst into the turnbuckles! Blaine staggering around, Stratton on his feet and he’s going for a DRAGON SUPL—NOOOOOOO! (LOUD BOOS!) THAT CHEAP SON OF A B—“
H’WOOD: “THAT’S MY SON, BEANFRY! AND THAT WAS BEAUTIFUL!”
O’CONNOR: “HE JUST MULE KICKED HIM IN THE NUTS!”
H’WOOD: “And I said that was BEAUTIFUL, I meant that!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s hurt and OH! (boos!) Driving Elbow Drop to the back of his head by Blaine! And he’s back on his feet and OH GOD…he’s walking towards Rayne!”
(CUTTO: CALVIN screaming “BREAK HER BACK!” as MALIK sits in a corner, drooling on himself…his eyes lolling back.)
O’CONNOR: “OH DEAR GOD! HE JUST KICKED HER! (LOUD BOOS!) And he just SPIT ON HER! She’s got Blaine’s bloody spit all over her! Oh no! (SCREAMS!) Blaine’s dragging up a barely fighting Rayne to her feet! He’s going for the BACKCRACKER! HE’S LINING HER UP F—(LOUD EXPLOSION!) STRATTON WITH A ROLLUP FROM BEHIND! ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THRRRRRRRRRRRRRNO! (GROANS!) BLAINE ROLLS OUT! AND HE’S STEAMROLLING TOWARDS DC! (LOUD GROANS!) RUNNING CLOTHESLINE! STRATTON GOT FLIPPED OUT!”
H’WOOD: “HAHA! Maybe after that, him and Rayne can wear matching Halos!”
O’CONNOR: “You’re a sick, sick man…and so is your son! He’s smiling at Rayne…and he’s going back to that Anderson Armbar! Stratton screaming in violent pain, I think his shoulder has to be seriously injured!
(CUTTO: RAYNE getting to her feet in a daze, behind Blaine…all of a sudden, she starts detaching the HALO! The crowd starts going bonkers!)
O’CONNOR: “WAIT! WHAT IS GOING ON! COULD RAYNE BE FAKING HER INJURY!?!?”
H’WOOD: “THAT HARLOT!”
O’CONNOR: (OVER ROARS!) “OHHHHHHHHHH! SHE JUST BLASTED BLAINE IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH IT! Blaine staggering around…”
H’WOOD: “STOP THE MATCH! STOP THE MATCH!”
O’CONNOR: (OVER MORE ROARS!) “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! SHE JUST HIT A RYAN HOWARD HOME RUN TO HIS FACE!”
(CUTTO: CALVIN CARLTON looking down like he’s seen a ghost, he starts frantically reloading up the needle he used to drug MALIK! QUICK CUTTO: RAYNE trying to revive DC as BLAINE starts crawling towards the ropes to pull himself up.)
O’CONNOR: “This match has taken so many left turns, I don’t know what to expect anymore!”
H’WOOD: “How about a stoppage because of this interference!”
O’CONNOR: “Calvin’s yelling at Blaine, and OH DEAR GOD! He just dropped that needle to the mat! (LOUD SCREAMS!) BLAINE AND RAYNE ARE DIVING FOR IT! It’s a rugby scrum (LOUD BOOS!) AND BLAINE HAS THE NEEDLE! HE’S GOT IT! Rayne’s scurrying away from him, but the man looks like he’s a Cheshire cat right now!”
H’WOOD: “Which does he stab Beanfry!? The possibilities are too enticing either way!”
O’CONNOR: “How can you say that!?”
H’WOOD: “Well c’mon, one of them should be put down for their diseases…haven’t you read about what the Humane Society does?”
O’CONNOR: “Blaine’s stalking towards Rayne licking his chops…WAIT! (LOUD ROARS!) DC JUMPS ON HIS BACK FROM BEHIND, HE’S GOT BLAINE IN A SLEEPERHOLD! (LOUD CHEERS!) RAYNE WITH A LOW-BLOW, THE NEEDLE FLIES OUT OF BLAINE’S HANDS!”
(CUTTO: CARLTON freaking out in the shark cage, tripping over the sleeping ANDERSON!)
H’WOOD: “STOP THE MATCH! STOP THE MATCH!”
O’CONNOR: “Rayne’s got the needle! She’s got it! (LOUD ROARS!) SHE JUST SLAMMED IT INTO BLAINE’S SHOULDER!”
H’WOOD: “NOOOOOOOO! THIS IS HIGHWAY ROBBERY!”
O’CONNOR: “There is nobody to blame, but Calvin Carlton for the mess your son now finds himself in! Blaine to a knee…(LOUD CHEERS!) DC releases the hold and Blaine falls facefirst on the mat! He’s out cold!”
H’WOOD: “Why isn’t Phillips stopping the match, I thought I paid him off with dinner last night!”
O’CONNOR: “You ordered him $200 of room service food that NFW doesn’t pay its referees for!”
H’WOOD: “Oh god.”
O’CONNOR: “DC’s dragging your son to the middle of the ring…and I don’t know what he’s planning, but this can’t be good! (LOUD CHEERS!) STRATTON IS CLIMBING THE CAGE! HE’S GOING TO ERADICATE BLAINE HOLLYWOOD!”
H’WOOD: “This is the end of excellence in tag team wrestling, Beanfry! We can’t let this piece of scum get away with this!”
O’CONNOR: “Stratton’s on the top of the cage, Rayne leading the crowd in chants of DC! Its taken eight years, but DC Stratton could finally propel himself in NFW to CHAMPION status at SuperCrash 2 IF…IF HE EN—WAIT! (LOUD SCREAMS!) OHMYGAHHHHHHHD! STRATTON JUST JUMPED AND HE’S…HE’S…HE’S HANGING FROM THE SHARK CAGE!”
H’WOOD: “…what is going on Beanfry!? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?!”
O’CONNOR: “Calvin Carlton is trying to kick DC’s fingers, but the INHUMAN HIGHLIGHT REEL is pulling himself up and climbing anyway! He’s a man on a SUICIDE MISSION! …what can he be…OH MY GAHD! (CROWD: “PLEASE DON’T DIE! PLEASE DON’T DIE!) HE’S CLIMBING TO THE TOP OF THE SHARK CAGE!”
(CUTTO: RAYNE pleading with DC not to go through with this! She looks terrified at what could be the ending of his career! DC points to her, then his heart.)
O’CONNOR: “…I don’t think DC should do this, Lamont…no matter what your son has said he’s just about twenty feet in the air!”
H’WOOD: “I can’t even watch, this is INSANE! DC STRATTON HAS LOS—YES! YES!”
(CLOSEUP: The crowd freaking out as RAYNE lies down on BLAINE! STRATTON shakes his head with a smirk, then mouths “I love you” and closes his eyes. He jumps.)
O’CONNOR: “HOLY CHRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIST! (LOUD CRASH! CROWD FREAK OUT!) OHMYGAHHHHHHHHHHHD! CORKSCREW SENTON BAHHHHHHHHHHHHMB! RAYNE DIVED OUT OF THE WAY! STRATTON CONNECTED ACROSS BLAINE’S STERNUM! DC ROLLING AROUND LIKE HE’S ON FIRE, GRASPING HIS SHOULDER!”
H’WOOD: “I…Blaine couldn’t protect himself…”
(CUTTO: CARLTON falling to his knees inside the shark cage, WIDE-EYED in awe of what’s just happened.)
O’CONNOR: “DC’S crawling towards Blaine with one arm! (LOUD CHEERS!) RAYNE’S HELPING HIM COVER BLAINE! HE’S ON TOP! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! … THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (LOUD ROARS! SFX: BELL RINGING!) DC STRATTON HAS PULLED OF A MAAAAAAAAAJOR UPSET! HE’S BEATEN BLAINE HOLLYWOOD WITH ONE OF THE MOST INSANE MOVES IN NFW HISTORY!”
(CUTTO: The shark cage lowering, paramedics rushing the scene with spineboards and security! QUICK CUTTO: LAMONT HOLLYWOOD running into the cage, worried for his son’s health. QUICK CUTTO: RAYNE sitting in the corner, crying.)
O’CONNOR: “I’ve never seen anything like this in my life, fans. Nothing can compare to the hatred these two men must have for each other now. Forget about the fact that DC Stratton has just earned a tag team title shot…’cause I don’t know if either of these two are going to be able to wrestle!”
(CUTTO: CARLTON yelling at the paramedics to treat BLAINE first, while in the background DC drags himself out of the grasp of everyone to start crawling towards RAYNE. She meets him halfway, a blubbering mess as DC collapses in her lap.)
O’CONNOR: “I don’t even know what to say fans…we’re going to take down the cage and try to regroup around here, because we’ve still got A LOT to go.”
(FADETOBLACK.)
Winner: DC Stratton
(CUTTO: Outside the beach ‘arena’ in Daytona as the limousine of self-proclaimed disputed NFW World Heavyweight Champion KIN HIROSHI descends a circular ramp approaching the entranceway to the private parking area. CUTTO: HIROSHI inside the limo, legs kicked up on a seat opposite him, the NFW World Heavyweight Championship (man, that’s redundant to type twice in two sentences) lavished over his lap, beaming under the glow of, um, ceiling lights. Suddenly he’s jerked forward, splaying across the aisle.)
KIN HIROSHI: (Pulling himself up) “JESUS! What’s goin’ on up there? If you’re drunk, so help me God…”
(HIROSHI leans back in his chair, dusting himself off and grabbing the belt off the floor. He waits for a moment, then begins tapping his foot, then finally he looks out the window and knocks forcefully on the limo driver’s window.)
KIN HIROSHI: “Hey, asshole! You have to go INTO the parking lot! I’m not paying you a DIME without a secured parking spot and some help with my s(BLEEP!)t! Do you hear me?”
(The window slides open, and the driver turns his face around to the Muffin Man. He’s dripping sweat and his eyes are wide.)
DRIVER: “I-I can’t go any further, sir. There’s a…um, uh…”
HIROSHI: “Oh, for God’s sake, MOVE. I don’t give a s(BLEEP!)t if it’s Little Timmy’s golden doodle or Sally’s calico kitten, if I don’t see Mother Theresa hog-tied to Mahatmas-frickin’-Gandhi when I look out this window, you’re totally FU-uhhh…”
(KIN’s mouth drops as he stares out the window…at FLAMES, dancing off the lid of a wheelbarrow. CUTTO: NOVA, standing behind the Wheelbarrow of Fire, hands gripped firmly on the extruding wooden handlebars. His face is blank, and streaks of red paint dart from his cheekbones to the curvatures of his jaw-line. His chest is bare, save for a large red STAR finger-painted over his chest, shadowed imprecisely by others smeared with blue and yellow in the original’s outline. Other than a Ring-Pop on the ring finger of his left hand the only thing the EAGLEstar appears to be wearing is a pair of gaudy floral-print swim trunks. CUTTO: NOVA’s lips, mouthing a single phrase silently, over and over.)
NOVA: “Get out of the car.”
KIN HIROSHI: “Oh, F(BLEEP!)K this.”
(HIROSHI springs up into the front seat and presses his middle fingers against the windshield before leaping into the back seat as the Wheelbarrow of Fire spins through the air (DRIVER: “AAAAIIIIEEEE!!!”) and smashes into the windshield, spider-webbing the glass and bearing flame down on the unfortunate driver. CUTTO: NOVA walking with purpose around the side of the limousine. He approaches KIN’s door and reaches for the handle when the door is kicked open, slamming into him and knocking him backward. KIN springs out of the limo and grabs NOVA by the arm, yanking him up and slinging him against the concrete wall of the entranceway. Then HIROSHI dives back into the limo, grabs the NFW World Heavyweight Championship, and jumps back out, delivering a boot to NOVA’s chest before sprinting forward into the darkness towards the arena entrance doors.)
KIN HIROSHI: “IT’S MIIIIINNNNE!! WHOOOOOOO~!!!”
(NOVA stands up and gives himself a shake before retrieving the now-unlit wheelbarrow off the shattered windshield of the limousine. He tries to carry it with him as he gives chase to HIROSHI, but when it becomes cumbersome he abandons it in dramatic fashion, heaving it towards a parked supply truck.)
(FADETOBLACK.)
The mysterious CCTV feed shows up once again, this time it’s a split screen of Rook Black and the Uber Judge… the Rev 22:20 logo is spray painted on both walls each with the identical message… “Only one can remain… we know the truth but which one sacrifice themselves for the greater good of reality… could it be the Judge or the Executioner?” Once again we fade to black…
As reported by VargaUnderground.com
Chester Cheeseburger comes out first and doesn't seem to happy to be in this match at all. He reaches the ring and climbs inside. Next out is Koopa Troopa. At this point the crowd is hoping that an asteroid smashes into the arena like out of the movies. Unfortunately that doesn’t happen so Koopa reaches the ring and pulls out a swtichblade.
The ref tries to get it from him but Koopa somehow sneaks away only to get tripped up by Cheeseburger! Chester then puts him in a STF! The crowd cheers that it might be over quickly but Koopa gets to the ropes.
Koopa then rolls out to the floor and Chester goes after him. Koopa grabs a cable and starts choking Chester with it! Chester uses his overpowering strength and pushes Koopa headfirst into the post!
Koopa staggers around as Chester comes up behind him and grabs him into the Million Dollar Dream! Koopa reaches out to try and get out of it but nothing is there. Koopa then sees the railing so he runs over and ducks sending Chester into the front row.
Koopa turns around and is met by James Varga. The crowd cheers as now Varga is kicking the Koopa’s ass. Varga grabs a chair and starts nailing Koopa with it. Varga nails Koopa in the back with but his shell blocks it. Koopa kicks Varga in the balls and security drags him away!
Koopa turns around and gets clocked by Chester who is armed with the ring bell. He nails Koopa in the head with it. Koopa topples over and Chester grabs a drink that he dumps on the turtle.
Chester then drinks so of the drink but thinks it’s disgusting so he spits it all over Koopa who coughs and gags over this happening. Chester pulls Koopa up and grabs him into a Fujiwara Armbar. Koopa hollers out in pain before reaching under the ring and grabbing a spiked shell. He then grabs Chester in the head with it!
Chester holds his head in pain and releases the hold.
Koopa staggers to his feet as the crowd wants blood at this point. Green blood like the type that comes from a turtle when it is cut open.
Koopa reaches under the ring again and pulls out a ladder. Koopa grabs it and then rams it into Chester’s head. Chester goes down but the idiot Koopa slips on the drink that was poured on him earlier and falls onto the ladder!
This allows Chester to recover and get to his feet. Koopa staggers up only to be pushed by Chester into the ringpost! Koopa staggers around again and Chester grabs him into a Crossface Chicken wing!
As much as he tries, Koopa cannot escape from the hold! Fortunately for him the floor is still slick from the earlier drink spillage and Chester slips. Both wrestler fall to the ground. Koopa up first and starts laying the boots into Chester who is winded from the shell hitting him in the chest.
Koopa pulls Chester to his feet and rolls him into the ring. Koopa then reaches under the ring and pulls out a toolbox. He then opens it up and pulls out a wrench. He then climbs in after Chester.
Chester however trips Koopa up and puts him in a bow and arrow lock. Koopa somehow reaches the ropes and the hold is soon released. Chester pulls Koopa to his feet and tries to grab him into the Crossface Chicken Wing again but Koopa kicks him in the knee.
Koopa dropkicks Chester. Koopa goes for it again but Chester swats him away like a fly. Koopa lands on the mat hard. Chester signals that it’s going to be over soon but Koopa rolls over and causes Chester to fall right on top of him! Both wrestlers are down and looking in bad shape.
And that’s when the high-commander, and supreme-energy of all things hated in this world arrived.
JAMES VARGA.
And he indeed had a special friend.
The Florida Gator.
Both slid into the ring and as the Koopa struggled to his feet, they took him down with a Double DDT as Chester Cheeseburger had accidentally taken down the ref trying to stand up. Varga and the Gator left the ring to a stereo strut, but then Varga whirled around and clotheslined the crap out of him. The Gator gets locked in a Camel Clutch outside the ring, while Cheeseburger hits the nasty frog splash…once again popping the Koopa’s shell and hooking the tights (rather obscenely) for the pinfall.
Varga stood on the ramp raising his arms in victory until Insurgents arrived and chased him through the crowd.
Winner: Chester Cheeseburger
(FADEIN: KERRY O’CONNOR and an ashen LAMONT HOLLYWOOD at ringside.)
O’CONNOR: “Welcome back fans, we’re getting set for what will be a very special segment with Dirk Dickwood…which will hopefully cheer up my broadcast colleague.”
H’WOOD: “DC Stratton should be sent to jail.”
O’CONNOR: “Before we get to Dirk, we have one more match we’d like to rundown that took place earlier tonight. We hope everyone enjoyed the rundown from James Varga’s website regarding the Koopa vs. Chester Cheeseburger match and if that one wasn’t insane enough, we had a handicap match before everything went live. Kooter Michaels-Cruise vs. The Devil’s Rejects – Legion and Luci4. With a batload of barbed wire involved with the match and some very weird, but special stipulations it was a very intense 10 minute battle.”
H’WOOD: “I think I was chatting up some ladies at ringside and chose to miss this one Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “At the onset of the match, Luci4’s aerial tactics and Legion’s brawling were definitely too much for Kooter to handle. They had him bloodied early with the use of a barbed wire bat, but eventually the crowd willed Kooter back into the match. He took it over with a vicious double clothesline and an electric double chokeslam. However, with a little tomfoolery…specifically Legion with a handful of sand from the beach, the match was taken over by the Rejects. Of course, this when things got VERY interesting as Felix Red ran down to ringside after the referee went down in a collision with Kooter and Luci4.”
H’WOOD: “I’m dozing off here, Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “Felix was able to nullify things, but never saw the unexpected coming…in the form of the UBER JUDGE. A gavel shot to his head and then Kooter’s allowed Legion to hit a vicious curbstomp on a barbed wire chair. The referee dazily made the three count and due to the Devil’s Rejects victory…it looks like Felix Red won’t be doing as many commercials for Hot Topic this year.”
H’WOOD: “I think my brain exploded with that last line, now I really feel apart of this place.”
O’CONNOR: “Well, let’s go down to ringside for a special announcement from Dirk Dickwood!”
Winner: The Devil's Rejects
(MUSIC UP: “Obsession” by Animotion)
O'CONNOR: I'm not familiar with this music.
H'WOOD: No? That's a shame. Although, I've heard you are familiar with many other things, such as other men's co...
(DIRK DICKWOOD and his on again/off again girlfriend/wife HELGA appear at the entrance way. DICKWOOD dressed in a three piece suit, chewing on a lit cigar and swaggering down to the ring. HELGA stays a few steps behind DICKWOOD at all times, dress in a delightful ensamble of Viking helmet, cone bra and mini skirt.)
O'CONNOR: IT'S DIRK DICKWOOD! Sorry for cutting you off there Hollywood.
H'WOOD: This must be major announcement time for the Dickwoods. Is Helga even a Dickwood?
O'CONNOR: I don't think anyone has figured out exactly what Helga is to date.
(DICKWOOD jumps up onto the apron in an impressive display of athletics for a man like him and attempts to open the ring ropes for HELGA. She decides she would rather step over the top rope, almost crushing DIRK's shoulder in the process.
DICKWOOD: CUT THE MUSIC.
(Still playing)
DICKWOOD: Cut the music right now or I will personally ensure that Helga goes backstage and takes great delight in ripping off your shitting penis barehanded.
(MUSIC DOWN)
DICKWOOD: Thank you.
O'CONNOR: “Slick” Dirk Dickwood seems a little on edge tonight, don't you think?
H'WOOD: Of course the man is on edge, his husk of failure client has the biggest opportunity in his career tonight and these idiots backstage are now trying to ruin his major annoucement. Which he personally promised me would be major.
O'CONNOR: You were talking to Dirk backstage earlier?
H'WOOD: Less chatting more... purchasing. Let me tell you, that man his some videos I'm not even sure are legal in this country.
O'CONNOR: Went right for those ones, didn't ya?
H'WOOD: Shut up Beanfry.
DICKWOOD: I'd like to address you inbred hicks downing pig swill in the crowds, and yes you are a hick if you are sitting out in the crowd right now regardless of your own beliefs. I'm pretty sure that roughly seventy five percent of you have also had incestuous sex, the likes of which I have never seen since that hidden camera Cameron Cruise/Kooter Michaels-Cruise video I secretly taped.
H'WOOD: ON SALE NOW
DICKWOOD: Tonight marks an important night in the calendar of Dirk Dickwood's Totally Awesome Talent Agency (tm)...
H'WOOD: Dirk mentioned to me earlier the original name was going to be Dirk Dickwood's Porn Emporium and Talent Agency but some animal rapists threatened to sue.
O'CONNOR: I'd hate to imagine the sort of campaigns Dirk Dickwood's PETA would support.
DICKWOOD: First, the jewel in the crown, the main bread winner of the agency, mine and YOUR Entertainment Saviour, Phil Atken, is two small victories away from becoming YOUR NFW Heavyweight Champion. However, that is not all The Agency is here for tonight. It is however our top priority. You fucking shit-tards sitting in the crowd tonight will bear witness to my client, a man with the backing of Dirk Dickwood, pin the NFW Champion in this ring. Then come next Crash, you will all go home, turn on your little television sets, if you can ever afford such extravagant purchases, and see that EXACT same thing happen.
O'CONNOR: I think pinning Nova twice in a row is pratically impossible for a man like Phil Atken.
H'WOOD: With a man like Dirk Dickwood in his corner, impossible is knocked down to improbable.
DICKWOOD: You see tonight, you get to witness two pieces of history unfold, and considering how much you paid for you tickets, you should be honoured and humbled I am allowing such a thing to happen. Firstly, as I mentioned, you get to witness the man elected Lord Sexypants 2005 pin Nova in the middle of that ring, perhaps make him tap out, who the fuck knows. Secondly, you get to witness the announcement of an expansion.
O'CONNOR: Expansion? Has Dirk managed to find more oddballs he can bleed dry?
H'WOOD: They don't nickname him “Slick” for nothing.
O'CONNOR: I only nicknamed him that five minutes ago...
H'WOOD: It's catching on already. You should be proud you actually accomplished something in your life.
DICKWOOD: Of course, I'm not sure if you rubes would understand the process of expansion. Let me explain in terms you may appreciate. Dirk Dickwood's Totally Awesome Talent Agency's membership is going to swell in size, much like I imagine most of your stomachs do on a daily basis. Whether it be the ring worms present or the copious amounts of fried food I'm hardly the man to judge. After all, I'm a physical specimen, a god if you will.
O'CONNOR: If he's a god, I may rescind all my prayers.
DICKWOOD: However, I am a benevolent god. I am willing to help those in need, those who need guidance, those who need direction in their life, those who do not wish to have their testicles crush, I am willing to help you all. If you are a contracted NFW Wrassler, sitting backstage right now, watching the show at home, or indeed at one of this countries many beautiful red light districts, and you feel that you fall under one of these categories, I have great new for you!
H'WOOD: WHATEVER IT IS I'LL DO IT! JUST KEEP HELGA AWAY!
O'CONNOR: Calm down, he said Wrassler.
DICKWOOD: If you fall into that group, you are about to be embraced by the process of expansion. You see, I have finally decided that a man of my talents needs to spread his ability, his gospel in you will, unto others. You see, as the glorious leader of the Double D TATA, I have managed to sign my client to countless title opportunities, provided aid at ringside that has lead to numerous victories. I have been a counsellor to personal problems, and a dealer to vices and to gain these services, I'm not asking you to worship Satan and do that voodoo shit that Legion does, all you have to do is sign on the dotted line on one of the stack of open contracts sitting backstage right now.
H'WOOD: I hope security is ready for the stampede that's about to happen.
O'CONNOR: I'm sure they'll be able to handle it.
DICKWOOD: You see, I am ready to take over, Helga is ready to take over, YOUR Entertainment Saviour Phil Atken is ready to take over this company, and to be a part of this movement, to be a part of this power structure, all you need to do is ask. For those wrestlers not here tonight, whether they be at home with the family or fucking a whore, don't fret. Just ask your friend to mail you one, he's probably off grabbing one right now. I mean, you have to think, wouldn't you want to be the one close to the next NFW Champion and the man who managed to make it happen? Or would you rather be left beaten, bloodied and balls less after we get our hands on you.
O'CONNOR: That's the major announcement, he's offering his services?
H'WOOD: That IS major news Beanfrysproutpole, Dirk has never offered this opportunity before, if seems like with Helga and Dirk in tow, he really feels he can draw a line in this company.
O'CONNOR: Another line in NFW? I think if we joined together all the drawn lines in this
(FADE OUT)
O'CONNOR: Well fine viewers, it's now time for some National Title action.
H'WOOD: There is nothing “fine” about any of our viewers. Although I am looking forward to hot man-on-girl title action.
O'CONNOR: I don't think the match is going to quite have the tone you're hoping for.
H'WOOD: Quaranta matches rarely do.
O'CONNOR: Well, The Uber Judge is already in the right...
H'WOOD: Are we sure it's the right one?
O'CONNOR: The lack of a mask is generally a give away.
H'WOOD: The judges have had enough time to have reconstructive cosmetic surgery.
O'CONNOR: Would you rather we have a DNA test?
H'WOOD: You ask me these questions as if I care enough to respond to them.
O'CONNOR: With The Judge already in the ring, we're now awaiting the arrivals of Steve Knox, the Elite Champion of...
H'WOOD: The world?
O'CONNOR: Eliteness?
H'WOOD: Bleachy clean toilets? It's doesn't matter! He's an Elite Champion! There's a big party to celebrate and everything, I hear there's going to be cake.
O'CONNOR: Before the man can “boogie on down” tonight, he doesn't exactly have an easy task set ahead for him. Teresa had one hell of an undefeated streak and she certainly doesn't plan to give up her title tonight, and you just know that The Uber Judge has a trick or two up his sleeve. Let's toss it over to Lee-Baby SIMS for the introductions.
SIMS: The following contest is for the NFW National Championshiiiiip.
(SFX: Crowd pops)
SIMS: Currently in the ring, challenger number one, he is The Uberrrrr Judgeeeeeeeee!
(MUSIC UP: “Hysteria” by Muse)
SIMS: And making his way down to aisle, challenger number two, he is the ELITEEEEE Champion, he is Steveeeeeeeeeeee Knox!
H'WOOD: Oh joy of all joys, the Ron Paul supporter is here. Yes Steve, all our problems can be solved with gold! WHY DON'T YOU MELT YOUR PRECIOUS TITLE TO HELP THE ECONOMY.
O'CONNOR: I've never seen Hollywood this upset over man's finisher's name since that guy who had the Titties McAss Drop.
H'WOOD: Flat chested son of a bitch.
(CUTTO: STEVE KNOX making his way down to the ring, slapping a few fans hands as he glares at The Uber Judge in the ring. The Uber Judge responds by laying back into a turnbuckle corner and smirking his smirkiest smirk.)
O'CONNOR: Both these men, sizing each other up but both know the title they want hasn't/
H'WOOD: I'm so honoured Mr. Goldypants over there has descended from his grand Elite Mountain to fight over our pittance National Championship. Oh glorious Steve Knox, thank ye for taking pity on us.
O'CONNOR: Aren't you taking this ever so slightly serious?
H'WOOD: I'll do whatever I want Beanpolefrysprout. What are you going to do to stop me? Sportscast me to death?
O'CONNOR: Let's just take it back over to SIMS.
(CUTTO: STEVE KNOX entering the ring and taking his place in his corner)
(MUSICUP: "Clarissa" by Mindless Self Indulgence)
SIMS: And making her way to the ring, she is THE NFW National Champion, Terrrrrrrrrrresaaaaa Quarrrrrrrrrantaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
(CUTTO: TERESA QUARANTA bolting her way to the ring and tossing her belt in the general direction of the referee.)
O'CONNOR: Quaranta wasting no time, rushing head first in to this match. She knows the odds are against her.
H'WOOD: Exactly, she doesn't even have to be pinned to lose the title. What a stupid match to agree to. She really needs a new agent.
(SFX: BELL RINGING)
O'CONNOR: Bang a gong, this is on.
H'WOOD: You have no idea how much I want to hurt you right now. No idea.
O'CONNOR: Teresa has went straight for Steve Knox, no love loss between these two. Fist are flying between Knox and Quaranta as The Uber Judge is... attempting to break it up. Is he trying to do the referee's job for him?
H'WOOD: Whatever works.
O'CONNOR: Steve and Teresa almost broke up that brawl until they realised it was the Uber Judge getting involved. They've pushed him aside and they are right back at it. A flurry of fists flying all over.
(CUTTO: STEVE KNOX and TERESA QUARANTA hammering away at each other with rights and lefts, UBER JUDGE in the background staying out the way of the brawl entirely.)
H'WOOD: Smart strategy by the Judge here Beanfry, let his competitors take each other out and then either one becomes a viable option to pin.
O'CONNOR: Some would call it cowardice but in a bout like this, it probably is best to stay out of the way and let Knox and Quaranta beat the hell out of the other.
H'WOOD: You let them pound each other into hamburger meat then sweep in for the pin. The fact that Knox and Quaranta actually pushed him out the brawl is astounding to me. Clearly letting their emotions get to them, something I or mah boy would never do.
(CUTTO: The Uber Judge trying to pull the shirt off the referee while the ref fights to keep it on)
O'CONNOR: What is The Judge attempting here? Here's lucky he hasn't been disqualified for putting his hands on an official.
H'WOOD: He should be disqualified for attempting to show that lard ass' beer belly to the public. I don't even know how many viewers we would lose for something like that.
O'CONNOR: Because we've never aired anything that disgusting before?
H'WOOD: It's all relative.
O'CONNOR: Knox now with a successful double leg take down on the champ. He's attempting to mount Ms. Quaranta.
H'WOOD: He is succeeding where others have failed!
O'CONNOR: But Teresa manages to power out and now has Knox mounted.
H'WOOD: Why am I meant to start getting aroused? Normally Teresa's jiggly jiggly does it for me but I think Knox is ruining this moment. He needs to get old the picture.
O'CONNOR: Knox and Quaranta are both struggling for a dominate position on the mat at the moment. Meanwhile... Uber Judge has produced his own referee t-shirt.
H'WOOD: How is that thing even going to fit over those glorious flowing robes of his?
JUDGE: IT'S XXXL!
H'WOOD: How did he ever hear me?
O'CONNOR: He's about five feet away from our table.
H'WOOD: Stop mocking those who lack depth perception Beanfry.
(CUTTO: THE UBER JUDGE putting on his referee t-shirt and sliding back in to the ring. He pulls apart TERESA and KNOX apart, insisting that he is now the referee for the match.)
O'CONNOR: I have no idea what The Judge's strategy is right now.
H'WOOD: Mindfuck is a valid strategy, one which The Judge is playing very successfully right now. Knox and Quaranta have no idea what the hell is going on right now.
O'CONNOR: Does that really achieve anything?
H'WOOD: No idea, entertains the hell out of me though.
O'CONNOR: Knox and the champ have went back to their battle, neither managing to quite get the better of the other. The Judge on the other hand is now in an argument with the official in this match over who indeed in the official official. He's trying to dismiss the actual referee from the ring.
H'WOOD: I suppose the more he does this, the more he stays the hell out of the way of that brutal hurricane of a brawl Knox and Teresa are having. I'm expecting blood all over this ring and teeth to go a flyin' any second now.
O'CONNOR: It seems that The Judge's actions have finally caught the eye of Knox and Quaranta.
(CUTTO: TERESA QUARANTA and STEVE KNOX shift their attention from each other towards THE UBER JUDGE. They whip THE JUDGE into the ropes and double backdrop him out of the ring.)
O'CONNOR: And out goes The Uber Judge. Of course, in this style of match there are no countouts, so he could stay there as long as he wants.
H'WOOD: It's the smart thing to do.
O'CONNOR: Now Knox turns back towards Teresa, but she was ready for him with a snap Northern Lights suplex. Could this be the quick win she... no Knox powers out just after two. It's her ability to pull of snap moves like that that has kept her as National Champion for so long.
H'WOOD: Well that and the distraction of a jiggle. Jiggly jiggly jiggly.
O'CONNOR: Teresa now trying to stay on top of this, trying to switch position from the Northern Lights into an armbar.
H'WOOD: ARMBAR!
O'CONNOR: Yes, an armbar. However Knox uses his power to push Teresa off. The force of the shove sent her into the ropes and she comes comes flying off them right back towards Knox. KNOX SPRINGS TO HIS FEET! POWERSLAM!
One...
Two...
NO! The Uber Judge pulls Steve Knox out of the ring and OUCH! Right into that steel ring post.
H'WOOD: What are you ouching over? Are you suddenly Steve Knox? Smart move by Judge, waiting for his moment to strike, then taking out the competition. The man knows exactly how to take advantage of a match scenario like this.
O'CONNOR: So we have Knox laid out on the outside and Teresa still trying to recover from that surprise powerslam from Knox on the inside. The Uber Judge back up on the apron now, admiring the work
H'WOOD: He can admire his work all he wants when he gets the title but now is not the time to get distracted, especially when it's by Knox and not Teresa.
O'CONNOR: Teresa back to her feet now and she shoulder blocks The Uber Judge right back off the apron. Judge goes flying off, hitting the steel barricade in the process.
H'WOOD: What idiot put a barricade there?
O'CONNOR: You demanded it, you wanted protection from the “plebeians” if I remember correctly.
H'WOOD: You'd rather those mongoloid fans were able to touch you Beanfry? I'd rather keep them a safe distances away, especially when you have the Kooter Michaels-Cruises and Helgas running around ringside already, why increase the risk.
O'CONNOR: Speaking of increased risk... SWEET JESUS! Teresa launched herself right off that top rope, diving right at The Uber Judge, he ducks out the way and she hits nothing but steel barricade. She may be out this match entirely after that.
H'WOOD: That was out and out insanity. She's the kind of idiot
O'CONNOR: Yet she has never lost that title since the day she won it, exactly because of risks like this.
H'WOOD: If she always took risks like this, we'd have been wheeling her out by now. Maybe on some form of rocket propelled wheelchair so her crippled ass could still pull out stunts like this. That was a risk she did not need to take, she could have stayed in the ring and had a bit of breathing space but no, she has to do a flashy move. Idiot.
O'CONNOR: All three competitors out of it outside the ring at moment, Knox next to the ring post that The Judge threw him in to, Teresa pretty much in the crowd at this point...
H'WOOD: I'm waiting on her going body surfing, then she'd be really screwed out of her title.
O'CONNOR: ...and The Uber Judge is resting himself up against the steel barricade, trying to get his wind back.
H'WOOD: He's in the best condition of all three right now.
O'CONNOR: To take advantage of it, he has to get either Knox or Quaranta back in to the ring however, and that's a task certainly easier said than done.
H'WOOD: Are you trying to imply that the National Champion is a lard ass?
O'CONNOR: What? No, of course not!
H'WOOD: Seems like it to me.
(CUTTO: THE UBER JUDGE making his way back over to STEVE KNOX in attempts to roll him back in to the ring)
O'CONNOR: I don't know if trying to lift two hundred and forty two pounds of dead weight back in to the ring is the best of ideas.
H'WOOD: It doesn't look like he's making much progre... that's gotta hurt.
O'CONNOR: A bit of revenge from Knox as he grabs the flowing robes of The Uber Judge, pulling him face first into the very steel post that The Judge threw him in to.
H'WOOD: I've never been a fan of poetic justice.
O'CONNOR: You've never been a fan of anything.
H'WOOD: That's just not true, lies and slander Beanpole.
O'CONNOR: If we discount your son's tag team...
H'WOOD: You've just proven my point.
O'CONNOR: We now have all three competitors down and out, outside of the ring. Knox rolling back in, Teresa climbing the top rope as he’s getting to his feet and LOOK OUT! (crowd groans!) The Uber Judge just pulled out Teresa’s leg and she landed awkwardly on the turnbuckles! Wait a minute, he’s got his gavel out! He’s got the gavel out! (LOUD SCREAMS!) OH NO! HE JUST PLASTERED TERESA IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD…AND HE’S DROPPING OFF THE APRON!?!?! WHAT’S GOING ON!?!?
H’WOOD: I guess he’s made his final verdict on something we weren’t even aware about!
O’CONNOR: Teresa Quaranta’s out cold, the referee never saw it as he was checking on Knox! Knox looks confused…as the Uber Judge is walking up the ramp with a smile on his face! Knox covers Teresa, we could have a new champion! ONNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOO! ……THREEEEEEEEEEEEEE! YESSSSSSSSSSS! (SFX: BELL RINGING! CROWD SHOCK!) WE’VE GOT A NEW CHAMPION! WE’VE GOT A NEW CHAMPION! I DON’T BELIEVE THIS! STEVE KNOX HAS WON THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP! This crowd is in complete confusion over the Uber Judge’s random actions at the end of this m—“
H’WOOD: “Wait a minute, Felix Red’s on the STARtron!”
(CLOSEUP: FELIX RED sitting next to a tied, bound and gagged ROOK BLACK. The UBER JUDGE turns around on the ramp and stops in his own shock and starts nodding in disbelief…since ROOK BLACK is wired with god-knows-what-but-itsdefinitelyexplodeylooking.)
RED: “CHECKMATE.”
(The STARtron fades to BLACK as all of a sudden there’s a VERY LOUD BOOM heard from the backstage area, where smoke starts billowing! QUICK CUTTO: Inside the ring, TERESA QUARANTA is trying to explain to the ref what the UBER JUDGE did, but to no avail! Outside of the ring, STEVE KNOX is holding up BOTH the ELITE and NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIPS!)
O’CONNOR: “…Felix Red did not just blow up Rook Black.”
SIMS: (V/O) “THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH AND NEWWWWWWWWWWWW NATIONAL CHHHHHHHHAMPEEEEEEUHHHHH—(SFX: FEEDBACK!)”
H’WOOD: “Beanfry, I think my brain’s breaking!”
O’CONNOR: “That’s the microphone, Lamont…not what we just saw.”
(The crowd buzzes in confusion as SIMS’ microphone is cut off, meanwhile the STARtron comes back to life…this time with CRAIG MILES on it!)
MILES: “Steve Knox, I’m sure you’re proud of yourself…but if you look at the replay later tonight, you might gain that sliver of a single millisecond of a glimpse over why I’ve decided to do…to you.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “This can’t be good. I don’t think Miles is over Knox bringing out Joe the Plumber earlier.”
MILES: “Teresa Quaranta has given too much to this company as far as I’m concerned and I RESPECT that. Therefore, in lieu of this…at SUPERCRASH 2, you will pull double duty when you defend your Elite Championship as well as that National Championship…and in the latter championship defense, you will face Rook Black if he’s still alive as well as Teresa Quaranta in a SPECIAL TWO OUT OF THREE PINFALL ELIMINATION MATCH. (CROWD ROARS!) More details to come…(MILES smirks) naturally.”
(The STARtron fizzles out. QUICK CUTTO: QUARANTA looking visibly frustrated, but nodding in approval while KNOX looks at both titles then back to the ring…and nervously gulps.)
O’CONNOR: “What an announcement, I’d say more…but we’ve got to go to break before anything regarding my sanity does.”
Winner: Steve Knox (NEW CHAMPION!)
O’Connor: That was a hellacious National title match (Insert name of winner) was proving once again why they are one of the stars of the revolution and we’ve still got the TV title match to come…
(Suddenly the lights go out… an air raid siren can be heard and the opening speech by Corey Taylor from Slipknot kicks in to begin Pulse Of The Maggots… as soon as “What have you got to lose except your soul?” is heard a multitude of men and women in black surround the ring with some inside the ring…)
Hollywood: What the hell is this supposed to be… if they brandish any weapons I’m getting out of here!
O’Connor: the logo seems to be familiar… we’ve seen it in Legion’s promo… maybe it’s the Army he’s been on about…
(Legion and Luci appear on the ramp…)
Legion: Let the champ go… it’s not their time yet, I guess I should explain the whole point of this little gathering of minds for those casual fans that failed to catch ESEN Promos…
For the past 6 months I’ve been building a force that will combat the so called revolution this company seems to have created… a company that was built on the biggest political move that this sport has ever seen.
I have tried to recruit people since my inception that seem to be the disillusioned at heart and some people in the back seem to resent this… they think I’m a scenester that denies his existence… the King of the 5 minute promo with a minute of talk… and my companion… nothing more than a hanger on…
This became clear to me that following my actions at Crashmas I’ve become a pariah… where the hell has insurgent security been when I get attacked by a multitude of Uber Judges ripping off Sting in 1997… it’s because they think that in order to get rid of their own problems like the Koopa, like Felix and anyone else they put me in there so they can let two people they hate kill each other… so I set up this army you see before you with Luci as workers for tonight… how else did Teresa, Rook and Uber get their messages because after Felix and Varga I have some long standing business to finish and I will prove the truth of Rook and the Judge by Wrestlebowl III…
It ends now… because I know what makes the roster tick… greed, vanity and pride… it’s what I said to the Wolf… he left, he walked out on this place and is trying to regain past glories in TEAM and that suddenly seems to have gone on hiatus… I guess using CSWA veterans means that the company disappears for a billion years… and the worst person on that list I saved til last… because I’ve learnt through tapes and archived news… Never bet against a professional but at least have a gambit in place…
The Revolution from this point… is now slowing going to turn into chaos and disorder… For We Are Many… and could be anyone…
(CUTTO: A child in the audience waving a mop and bucket around.)
H’WOOD: “I don’t know what’s more disturbing, Beanfry…the fact that a child was allowed admission into a New Frontier Wrestling show, or the fact that Joe the Plumber has fans!”
O’CONNOR: “Don’t get all offended at once, Woodman! We’ve still gotta survive the match, and lord knows there’ll probably be more opportunities for us to be mortified at the state of the human race! Staaaartiiing…NOW!”
(MUSICUP – “Barbara Ann” by the Beach Boys)
H’WOOD: “I don’t see him…but I smell him…”
O’CONNOR: “That would be the unsavory aroma of one of NFW’s longest-running and most dominant champions in the company’s eight year history! The odd pairing in Joe the Plumber of repugnant hygiene and social skills with startling natural ability in the ring is something that STILL confuses newcomers to the Frontier…but this man is no joke!”
H’WOOD: “Take it, Lee-Baby!”
LEE-BABY SIMS: “The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and is for the NFW WORLD TELEVISION CHAMPIONSHIP, and the status of NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE NFW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP! Coming to the ring at this time, standing 5’11” and weighing in at an impossibly low-shot 243 lbs…he is the Greasy Goblin, and the CURRENT NFW Television Champion…he is…JOOOOOOOOOOE THE PLUUUUUUUUUMMBEEEEER!!!”
(CUT TO: JOE shoving back the curtains and stomping down the entrance ramp, jaw-jacking to seemingly no one and dragging his loyal bucket of filth and mop.)
O’CONNOR: “A mixed reaction from this crowd…you listen to Joe, you see him in the ring, and part of you wants to hate the guy…but you have to respect what he’s been able to accomplish in the ‘Dub in the last year! And now he stands on the precipice of breaking through and getting a much-deserved shot at his long-time nemesis and our World Heavyweight Champion, Nova!”
H’WOOD: “That whole thing…I still don’t understand what he’s talking about.”
O’CONNOR: “You don’t have to, Woodman! You just have to understand that before Joe can take that step, before he can vie for the company’s top prize…he has to make it through THAT man!”
(MUSICUP – “Immortal” by Adema)
LEE-BABY SIMS: “And his opponent, standing 6’2” and weighing in at 245 lbs…he is the MUFFIN MAN…KIIIIIIIIIN HIIIIIROOOOOOOOOOOOOSHIIIII!!!”
O’CONNOR: “Talk about fast moves, the Muffin Man is the king of them! Only a few months (that’s 1.5 days in Frontier time), the name ‘Kin Hiroshi’ meant little else in the realm of NFW 3.0 but a historical footnote, and then the former World Heavyweight Champion resurfaced to challenge the legitimacy of Dan Ryan and Nova’s title reigns in his absence! This led to a booking most of the roster only DREAMS about…a Number One Contender’s match to decide the EAGLEstar’s opponent at SUPERCrash II!”
H’WOOD: “The site, last year, of Joe the Plumber’s TV Title defense against Nova…”
O’CONNOR: “…which formed the basis for Joe’s complaint that he’d been looked over in the booking process!”
H’WOOD: “Alright, Simon Schama, enough history! Hiroshi’s practically to the ring already!”
(CUT TO: KIN HIROSHI approaching the ring, curling his lip at some outstretched hands. The NFW World Heavyweight Championship gleams around his waist, and he unclips it as he approaches the ring, hoisting it overhead. He stops a few feet from the apron to stare in bewilderment, as inside JOE is galloping around the ring on his shit-caked plunger, riding it like a wild stallion.)
O’CONNOR: “Normally Hiroshi’s entrance involves a bit more fanfare, looks like he scaled it down for the evening, but Joe is providing plenty of entertainment for the crowd! Of course a whole different story tonight is the belt around Hiroshi’s waist…the belt that belongs to the REAL champion, Nova!”
H’WOOD: “You’re LOOKIN’ at the real champion, O’Connor, get used to it! Bong Boy’s days of impersonating a champion are OVER! As for the Plumber, I hope we see him ride that disgusting plunger right out of NFW FOREVER! SAVE US, KIN!”
O’CONNOR: “Oh, you don’t mean tha-OHH!! JTP riding that plunger around the ring and then a surprise SUICIDE DIVE over the top rope landing SQUARE on an unsuspecting Kin Hiroshi!! The World Heavyweight Championship goes flying! And JTP has kick-started this high-profile match-up in grand fashion! He’s getting up, grabbing Kin by the hair…and slamming his head against the guardrail! The fans are eating it up! Joe now peppering Kin’s head and ribs with lefts and rights! And I’ll tell you, Lamont, one place you don’t really wanna be is on the outside with the Greasy Goblin…Joe’s a natural brawler!”
H’WOOD: “Get ‘im in the ring, Kin! Submission! DDT! ANYTHING!”
(CUT TO: JOE buffeting KIN with fists…and then KIN ducks under one, causing JOE to punch the turnbuckle post.)
JOE THE PLUMBER: “Owwww-AHHHH-Ooooo!! MA’ PAW!! I CRUNCHED MA’ PAW!!! GIT BACK ‘ERE KAWASAKI!!”
O’CONNOR: “Kin rolling under the ropes into the ring for the first time! Joe following suit…right into a knee-drop from the former champ! And the ref FINALLY can call for the bell! It looks like someone recovered the World Heavyweight Championship from ringside as well. Kin putting the boots to Joe here…”
H’WOOD: “Stay on him, Kin! He’s your meal ticket back to the Good Life!”
O’CONNOR: “Kin trying to lock Joe’s head in, looks like he might be going for a neckbreaker…but Joe’s squirming! No good, no good…and Kin opts for a DDT instead! What an impact on that…Joe’s flopping like a fish! Kin’s up…off the ropes…OHHHH!! BRUTAL kick to the side of Joe’s head, and our TV Champion’s on Dream Street!”
H’WOOD: “You know, that kick would have been a thing of beauty if you didn’t RUIN IT with your awful clichés…”
O’CONNOR: “1955 called. They want their ascot back.”
H’WOOD: “I…you…”
O’CONNOR: “I’m sorry I said that, Lamont.”
H’WOOD: “…”
O’CONNOR: “Hiroshi not letting up now…he’s got the Plumber up…(SFX: CRACK!!!)…and Kin introduces Joe to the most vicious KNIFE-EDGE chop this side of Tokyo!!”
(SFX: CRACK!!)
H’WOOD: “Joe’s boobs are jiggling! Haw haw haw!!”
(SFX: CRACK!!)
O’CONNOR: “Joe’s still up but he’s practically jogging in place from the sting of those chops!”
(SFX: CRACK!!)
JOE THE PLUMBER: “AAARRRRR!! FEELS LIKE MA’ SECOND HEART ATTACK AT NUGENT MANIA ‘98!”
(CUT TO: JOE dancing around clutching his beet-red chest…when suddenly he snaps to attention, grins a toothless grin, and GOUGES the eyes of KIN HIROSHI.)
CROWD: “BOOOOOOOOOO…(wait, this is Kin Hiroshi)…RAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”
O’CONNOR: “Ha ha…this crowd showing little sympathy for the Muffin Man after a BLATANT cheap shot from the TV Champion!”
H’WOOD: “Makes me SICK, Beansprout…why, if this were ’03 we’d haul every last one of these disrespectful Floridian LOUTS out of the arena and give ‘em WHAT-FOR in the parking lot for cheering such a despicable…”
O’CONNOR: “Hiroshi with a low blow!”
H’WOOD: “YES! YES!!! WHATEVER IT TAKES, KIN!!”
O’CONNOR: “Uh-huh. Joe’s on his knees holding himself, and that’s a HORRIBLE position to be in with a competitor like Kin Hiroshi who can…(SFX: “OOHHHH!!”)…well, who can do exactly what he just did, which is take Joe’s head off with another vicious side kick! And Kin appears to be going for the cover…he’s got ONE!! TW-NO!! ALMOST a two-count for the Muffin Man, but no cigar as they say…”
H’WOOD: “But he’s lookin’ good out there! Keep bringin’ the heat, Kin! You’ll have your belt back in NO time!”
O’CONNOR: “But he’s GOT the belt right now, Woodman! He just hasn’t EARNED it…the same criticism some people are leveling at him for even getting this match-up after almost a year of relative inactivity! It’s like Kin has returned and shoved everyone aside who have been literally BLEEDING for a shot at Nova all year!”
H’WOOD: “Wah, wah, wah. They can take their whining to the salon for all I care! Look at Hiroshi in the ring! He’s HANDLING Joe like none of these other amateurs could!”
O’CONNOR: “I will say Hiroshi’s looked pretty good in this match so far…he’s got Joe back up…going for a Russian leg sweep here…NO! Stall-out by Joe the Plumber…a struggle…CLOTHESLINE FROM HELL! Joe just pivoted around and LEVELLED Hiroshi with a clothesline down to the mat!”
H’WOOD: “I bet the stench of JTP’s armpits is infinitely more painful to endure than the physical contact with his forearm!”
O’CONNOR: “Well, something’s hurting Hiroshi right now…he’s on the mat and appears to be clutching…his throat! Ahhhh, looks like Joe’s clothesline hit him in the throat instead of the chest, and now the Muffin Man is having trouble RISING under the heat!”
H’WOOD: “THIS IS NO TIME FOR PUNS!!”
(CUT TO: JOE ripping his wife-beater down the middle, exposing chest acne that would make Hayden Panettiere quit doing Neutrogena commercials. He hoots and hollers and begins beating his chest with his fists.)
O’CONNOR: “Joe’s fired up, Lamont! Hiroshi’s gasping for air and he doesn’t realize where…BOOM! RUNNING KNEE from Joe the Plumber and Kin Hiroshi isn’t on Dream Street, Lamont, I don’t even think he’s on the same PLANET as the rest of us!”
H’WOOD: “NO! JOE DOESN’T DESERVE THIS! KIN DESERVES THIS!!”
O’CONNOR: “Regardless, Joe’s got Hiroshi pushed into the corner…Kin’s fighting it! A few shots from Hiroshi, but a knee-lift from the Plumber silences him! Joe’s lifting Kin up onto the top rope…will he follow? Looks like the answer’s ‘no,’ but Joe is hooking Kin by the neck…”
H’WOOD: “THAT’S KIN’S BELT! HE WAS NEVER BEATEN FOR IT!”
O’CONNOR: “Joe hooking Kin by the neck…staaaaalling…AND THE DROP!”
H’WOOD: “HIGHWAY ROBBERY!!!”
O’CONNOR: “THE GREAT FLOOD! Joe the Plumber calls that Ace Crusher variation the ‘Great Flood,’ and what a move it is! Hiroshi looks…well, I was gonna say ‘dead’ but given who we’re talking about here…”
H’WOOD: *Sob* “Highway robbery…”
O’CONNOR: “Joe hooking a leg in the corner for the pin…ONE!! TWO!! THREEEE!! CALL IT, LEE-BABY!”
LEE-BABY: “The winner of this match, STILL NFW World Television Champion…and NEEEEW NUMBER ONE CONTENDER TO THE NFW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP…JOOOOOOOOOOOE THE PLUUUUUUUUUMMBEEEER!!”
O’CONNOR: “And it’s official, Woodman, what we’ve all honestly known for some time…Joe the Plumber WILL get a shot at the NFW World Heavyweight Championship, a REMATCH of epic proportions against Nova at SUPERCrash II!”
H’WOOD: “This…I thought we’d grown beyond this, Beanfry…”
(CUT TO: Ringside, where amidst JOE THE PLUMBER’s celebration in the ring, KIN HIROSHI bails out, angrily grabbing the NFW World Heavyweight Championship from officials at ringside and clutching it to his chest. His face the image of a “sour puss,” KIN backpedals up the ramp…when all of a sudden, the crowd ROARS!)
O’CONNOR: “NOVA! ITS NOVA!”
(CLOSEUP: HIROSHI backpedals right into NOVA, turns violently around like he’s about to swing the title at NOVA but stops short…and hands him his gold! NOVA looks at him confused, but HIROSHI’s demeanor takes a turn towards the psychotic.)
HIROSHI: “Next time, I won’t be stealing your gold…I’ll be stealing your SOUL.”
(FADEOUT as HIROSHI brushes past NOVA, who stares at the World Championship with a small smile which fades as he looks towards the ring where JOE THE PLUMBER is on the turnbuckles pointing at him.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “What a scene! What a main event we’re gonna have at SuperCrash 2! Joe! Nova! …and up next, we’ll have words from Lord Coyner Pollard and then it will be Nova in a special six man tag challenge match!”
Winner: Joe the Plumber
(((CUE UP: "Americans are Behind" by Bruce Dickinson. The crowd immediately start to jeer, as Lord Coyner Pollard, followed by his butler, Jeeves, strolls to the ring, a microphone in hand. We notice that Jeeves, for his part, has a flag on a pole - the Union Flag of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. Once the Lord gets into the ring, he stands, the music fading, as Jeeves adjusts the full-length coat he's wearing)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: (((looking round arrogantly as the crowd continues to jeer))) Ladies... and gentlemen... if any amongst you may be called such...
Please rise, for the National Anthem.
(((CUE UP: "God Save the Queen". Some of the crowd have actually stood, thinking the American national anthem was about to be played - but surely they must have realised that the anthem of a true nation was about to be played, not some disjointed union of Colonists. The first verse, which is traditional, plays, Lord Coyner Pollard and Jeeves being the only people singing. As the verse finishes with a flourish, the crowd jeer again, Lord Coyner Pollard raising the microphone to his lips)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: Just what We would expect from vile sub-humans. Booing another nation's National Anthem. It is something We see time and time again - but woah betide ANY whom even CONSIDER doing the same when the Colonial anthem plays.
Here We are, as Her Majesty's representative, to honour those BRITISH dead, who died on the eleventh of September... two thousand and one. And what do those souls get? What do We, trying to remember Our Countrymen and women, get?
The jeers of a nation of slobs. Disrespect from a nation of CHILDREN.
But that is what we in the civilised world have come to expect from this so-called Land of the Free. If things are not done the... American Way... then they are being done wrong! If a nation dares do something that the Colonies disagree with, then the Colonies... take action! If another nation democratically elects a government which the Colonies feels it cannot manipulate... control... bribe... then if the nation is not particularly powerful, the Colonies ensure said Government will not last!
Land of the free... bastion of democracy...
Where was the democracy when YOU PEOPLE... denied Vietnam the right to a democratic election in nineteen fifty six, fully two years after YOU PEOPLE had helped them defeat the French Empire? Where was the FREEDOM for those Cambodian's MASSACERED by Pol Pot, with Colonial Approval?
Where is the freedom and democracy in the Colony's support for the ILLEGAL STATE OF ISRAEL, WHICH CONSTITUTIONALLY DOES NOT ALLOW PALESTINIANS TO FORM A GOVERNMENT IN THEIR OWN LAND?!
Where is the love for your fellow man, when We only have to step outside, and see Negro's chastised for the colour of their skin?
Indeed... where is this nation's sense of JUSTICE? After all, is this nation not the only one to use a nuclear weapon against its enemies? Is it not the same nation that did not allow Japanese doctors into Hiroshima and Nagasaki until YEARS after the detonation of those... vile... dispicable weapons?
Is it... any WONDER... that this nation was attacked... seven years ago... by people who have grown tired of the BULLYING... (((the crowd REALLY lays into him))) the HYPOCRACY... the ARROGANCE... of a nation of INBRED NEANTERTHALS?!
The remodelling of the skyline of the former New Amsterdam was the wake-up call you children needed.
And it was LONG... overdue.
(((The crowd is almost DEFEANING, as several of the closer members start to throw things into the ring)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: Do you not think so? Do you truly believe the lies you are taught? That this is a nation of DEMOCRACY... of FREEDOM... of JUSTICE?
Tell Us this, then...
Why did US planes kill over a million Iraqi women and children between nineteen ninety one and two thousand and three?
Why can We travel this nation and see Negros attacked by the police simply for the colour of their skin?
Why is it... that this nation supports Israel, a nation where, even if Arabs were to make up the majority, they could never form a government?
Why is it that this nation... this BASTARD NATION... fights wars against other sovereign nations, violating their sovereign integrity... for the sake of a few barrels of oil?
We could go on. The CIA helping to overthrow democratic Marxist governments in South America... the unlawful use of force against Nicaragua... orchestrating the war in which the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan... paying for the training of Osama bin Laden to fight in that war, supporting barbaric dictators the world over, illegal prisons like Guatanamo, forcing African nations to grow cash crops they are ill-suited for, placing US troops around Muslim holy-sites, placing nuclear missiles on other nations borders... just SOME of the violations of international law which the Colonies have committed.
Then you have the ARROGANCE... to claim to be the World's Police. A bastian of new ideas, afraid of the workers in Russia. Afraid of the workers in China. Afraid of the idea that ANY notion which speaks against you might be correct.
Do you people remember why you went to war in Afghanistan and restarted the opium trade there?
Because they wouldn't give the Colonial government a private citizen without first having evidence against them.
You people... your military... prevents medicine and food entering nations you disagree with, in a vain attempt to starve them. You thumb your noses at other nations, calling all those that do not follow your narrow-minded way of thinking 'evil'. 'Terrorists'.
Let Us tell you whom was also a terrorist. For fighting against the recognised government of the land.
George Washington.
David Crockett, who fought to STEAL Texas from its rightful Mexican masters.
The crew of the Enola Gay, who committed the single most horrific act of terrorism the world has ever known.
And each and every one of you, who proudly supports this foul abomination of a country, throughout all of its crimes. YOU PEOPLE ARE THE WORST TERRORISTS OF ALL.
The only thing regrettable about the day of the eleventh of September two thousand and one... NOT the ninth of November as you mistakenly call it... is that more of you did not suffer for your sins.
You Colonists are a PLAGUE ON THE PLANET.
You LIE... you CHEAT... you prize WHORISH BEHAVIOUR over good, honest values... why, you call yourselves a democracy, and yet you're scared to have a woman lead you!
You shove your fast-food down our throats... you reinvent history to paint yourselves as glorious (We are sorry, but no Colonist found the Enigma machine)... your soliders rape and murder innocent women and children...
Dickens was right. The heaviest blow ever dealt at liberty HAS come from this nation, this Colony.
And you choose to jeer at Us when We wish to commemorate Our people? You jeer when others have PRIDE in their own nations?
How long do you think before YOUR OWN ATTITUDES cause you to suffer another attack?
And just like in two thousand and one, it shall be well deserved.
(((Jeeves, looking uncomfortable, and rather cola-splashed, removes an American flag from a pocket inside his coat)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: (((unfurling the flag))) You claim this rag represents freedom... did you know the North, victorious in your civil war, allowed slavery, which it decried, to continue after its victory?
You claim this flag represents democracy... yet when Al Gore won the numerical majority of votes, he lost the presidential election.
You claim this flag represents equality, when throughout this land, people are homeless, children go hungry, the poor suffer sickness, and education has to be paid for.
You claim this flag represents peace, yet you fight any who express divergent ideas to yours.
Since everything you claim this flag represents, you SPIT upon...
(((The Lord reaches into his pocket, pulling out a lighter, and igniting the American flag)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: Then this flag has no right to exist.
(((As the flag starts to burn, the security guards in the crowd start having a tough time forcing people back from the barriers. Jeeves is struck by a glass bottle on the arm, which he kicks from the ring, as Lord Coyner Pollard continues looking around at the audience)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: YOU PEOPLE... THIS NATION... MERELY SUFFERED THE CONSEQUENCES OF ITS OWN ACTIONS!!
AND ABOUT BLOODY TIME TOO!!
(((He pauses for a few moments, regaining his composure)))
Lord Coyner Pollard: You are a nation of children. If things don’t go your way, you use force. You throw tantrums.
Maybe it’s time for another smack on the buttocks for this Colony.
When you grow up… when you become part of the Commonwealth… when you treat other nations with the RESPECT you wish they’d show you… maybe THEN you’ll stop being so morally BACKWARDS…
And maybe THEN… you’ll be safe.
(((CUE UP: “Americans Are Behind”)))
(FADEIN: BACK LIVE! The fans still angrily booing from LORD COYNER POLLARD’s actions.)
H’WOOD: Well, that was a little more politically inspired than usual.
O’CONNOR: That bastard should go to jail. And yes, he’s a BASTARD for doing that. I hope our fans and government are not offended to the point of doing something about this.
H’WOOD: Its protected under our constitution, Beanfry.
O'CONNOR: Whatever. You can’t possibly support that. Up next, we've got the big Six-Man Tag contest with a possible title shot on the line.
H'WOOD: This one is going to be an all out brawl Beanpole, pins being broken up like crazy, partners turning on partners. The backstabbing that we're about the witness makes me weep tears of joy.
O'CONNOR: Indeed, there is a high chance of partners fighting against each other. Atken, Alyas and Payne all know that they need to pin Nova to get their chance at the gold. You know they're not going to let their team mate get the pin if they can help it.
H'WOOD: This one is gonna get messy. Not unlike that time I...
O'CONNOR: LET'S GO OVER TO LEE-BABY SIMS FOR THE INTRODUCTION.
H'WOOD: No need to yell, all I was going to say was...
SIMS: The following contest is schedule for one fall and is a SIX MAN TAG MAAAAAATCH.
(SFX: Crowd pop)
SIMS: The rules are as follows, if either Brock Alyas, Jason Payne or Phil Atken pin Nova, they earn a title shot against Nova at Crash 47. However, should Cameron Cruise or David Noble make the winning pin, they will face each other at a later date to decide who earns a shot at Nova. Should Nova earn the victory, no one in this match will earn an NFW World Title match!
(SFX: Crowd asking the person next to him “Wait, what?”)
(CUTTO: HOLLYWOOD furiously scribbling on a notepad)
H'WOOD: Hang on, what was that last part again?
O'CONNOR: Are you taking notes?
H'WOOD: I freaking need to to understand the rules in this match.
O'CONNOR: All I know is this match is going to be brutal. Five of these men have exchanged rather vicious words with each other, and I expect they all want to give a receipt here tonight.
H'WOOD: On the other hand, Jason Payne became a mute but with his credentials he's gonna (BEEP) the loving (BEEP) out of everyone anyway.
SIMS: INTRODUCING FIRST...
(MUSICUP: “Fuckin' in the Bushes” - Oasis)
SIMS: Being accompanied to the ring by the “Viking Goddess” Helga and “Superagent” Dirk Dickwood, he is YOUR Entertainment Saviourrrrrrrr, Phillllllllll Atkennnnnnnnnn.
O'CONNOR: And here comes the man who has been struggling in NFW competition recently, formerly plagued by family issues, tonight they are trying to present themselves as a united front.
H'WOOD: Whatever, just don't let Helga catch your eye. One of two things will happen and let me assure you from personal experience, neither is good.
(CUTTO: ATKEN entering the ring, while HELGA and DICKWOOD take their place at ringside.)
(MUSICUP: "Comfortable Liar" by Chevelle)
SIMS: Introducing next, his partner, from Detroit, Michigan, tonight he weighs in at two hundred and seventy five pounds... BRRRRRROCK ALYASSSSSSSSSSS!
(CUTTO: ALYAS making his way down to the ring, while ATKEN stares him down from the ring)
O'CONNOR: These men both know they have to work against each other as well as with each other tonight.
H'WOOD: It's going to be a cut-throat match.
(MUSICUP: “Dogs of War” by Pink Floyd)
SIMS: And their partner, he is the DOG OF WARRR, JASONNN PAYYYYYYYYNE
O'CONNOR: This right here is a destructive force in NFW. Tonight could very well be his first step to re-establishing his dominance in this company.
(CUTTO: PAYNE making his way down to the ring while ALYAS and ATKEN keep their distance from each other inside the ring. As PAYNE enters the ring, the three men already get in to a dispute over who should start the match.)
O'CONNOR: These three men don't look like they'll be able to work together from even the start of this 'bout.
H'WOOD: They all have a path towards glory, do you think they want to let this chance slip away from them immediately?
(MUSICUP: "I Got a Thing" by Funkadelic)
SIMS: AND THEIR OPPONENTS...
(CUTTO: David Noble, Cameron Cruise and Nova making their way to the ring together)
(SFX: Huge crowd pop)
SIMS: Tonight they weigh in at a combined SEVEN HUNDRED AND TWENTY SEVEN POUNDSSS, at a combined height of EIGHTEEN FEET AND NINE INCHESSSSS...
H'WOOD: Combined height? What is Sims smoking?
O'CONNOR: To be fair to Lee-Baby, is could just be the fumes from this arena.
SIMS: They are David Nobleeeeee, Cameron Cruiseeeeeeeee and the NFW HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONNNNNNNNNNN... NOVAAAAAAAAA!
(SFX: Continued huge crowd pop)
O'CONNOR: These three men entering to the ring as one team. Presenting perhaps a united front, trying to get into the minds of Atken, Payne and Alyas...
H'WOOD: I doubt any of those three are smart enough to know what mind games are and as far as a “united front” goes, expect that to diminish in minutes.
(CUTTO: Nova, Cruise and Noble entering the ring while Atken, Payne and Alyas continue to argue over who will start the match.)
O'CONNOR: Looks like their may be a brief delay in the start of the contest while Atken, Alyas and Payne sort out
H'WOOD: It's certainly a clash of personalities, none of these men want to trust the other as the legal man. I also like how Nova didn’t bring his newly returned title to ringside. Word has it he put it in America Ferrera’s crotch. That’s where NO man will go. It smells like ground beef and moldy pinto bean sauce.
O'CONNOR: OUCH! Well it appears Atken isn't starting thing out, Payne and Alyas just tossed him out the ring.
H'WOOD: Why are you ouching you idiot? You aren't the one being brutally assaulted. I'm just thankful Dickwood and Helga and their to tend to the poor man's wounds.
O'CONNOR: Well, it appears Alyas and Payne are now calling the referee over to their side of the ring.
H'WOOD: Both men have their fists clenched. Don't tell me...
O'CONNOR: Payne has just asked the official to officiate over a game of rock, paper, scissors between himself and Brock. Nova, Cruise and Noble seem dumbfounded over this entire thing.
REF: Three, two, one, SHOOT!
(CUTTO: Alyas with scissors, Payne with paper. Alyas throws his arms up in the air in victory while Payne takes his place on the apron. On the other side of the ring, Nova and Cruise take their places on the apron)
H'WOOD: Alyas outsmarting Jason Payne with the old paper ploy. Can't believe Jason fell for it.
(SFX: DING DING DING)
O'CONNOR: And this match is under way, Noble and Alyas starting things off. Seems like Nova and Cruise may wish to see what this newcomer to the NFW ranks may have to offer. Both men at about the same height but Alyas has the clear weight advantage here. He'll be aiming to use that to his advantage.
H'WOOD: Fatty.
O'CONNOR: David and Brock going for a lock-up here, and Brock already using that weight advantage of his to push David against the ropes.
H'WOOD: He pretty much tossed them into those ring ropes. With that sort of velocity, I don't care who you are, it's going to hurt.
O'CONNOR: And now Herpin, the official for this bout, trying to break up Noble and Alyas, Alyas backs away and... what a cheap shot. Alyas takes advantage of the rope break with a slap right to Noble's face.
H'WOOD: The rookie needs a few shots like that, he needs to be toughened up to survive in NFW.
O'CONNOR: That slap seems to have incensed Noble as he lunges towards Alyas, looking for a double leg takedown, but Alyas catches him in a front face lock. Alyas going for a DDT but NO! Noble grabs on to the ropes and Alyas goes flying into the mat.
H'WOOD: Noble showing a bit of ring presence there, but I'm certain it's beginners luck, no way he keeps it up for the rest of the match.
O'CONNOR: Noble jumping up to the top rope now, but he's on the wrong side of the tracks, Payne rushes over and shoves him back in to the ring. Herpin now heading over to Payne to no doubt have a few words
(CUTTO: PAYNE and REFEREE HERPIN arguing over the rope push. As PAYNE argues, DICKWOOD pulls PAYNE down from the apron and PAYNE'S face smashes right in to the apron.)
O'CONNOR: And the inter-team attacks begin. Dickwood taking out Payne, while Noble and Alyas recover on the inside of the ring.
H'WOOD: Dickwood there, aiming to take out a threat to Atken in this match. This is a manager who knows how to take care of his clients.
O'CONNOR: It seems that Atken, who was recovering on the outside from Alyas and Payne's double team at the start of the match, has finally brought himself around. He grabs the dazed Payne, and using all his power rams the bigger man right into that turnbuckle post.
H'WOOD: That's skull colliding with steel Beanpole. I love it!
O'CONNOR: And now with the referee counting out the downed Noble and Alyas, Helga decides to make her presence in this match, showing brute strength picking up Payne, who is certainly no sack of feathers but Payne shows enough awareness to start fighting her off. Payne and Helga are now brawling on the outside but you know that steel post shot
H'WOOD: This has fallen apart quickly, glorious!
O'CONNOR: Nova and Cruise seem content to stay out of the mess on the outside.
H'WOOD: Of course they did you moronoid, one of their opponents and another proxies are brawling on the outside of the ring.
O'CONNOR: Helga now spinning Payne around and here comes Phil Atken with a steel chair in hand...
(SFX: CLANK)
O'CONNOR: Again, Atken smashing the skull of Jason Payne, this time with a brutal steel chair shot. That's gonna incapacitate Payne, but the question becomes “but for how long?”.
H'WOOD: I think it may be safe to say the Payne will be out of this one for a while. It certainly seems like the Dickwood Agency and Atken both view their partners as more of a threat than a form of protection and they'd be right in thinking so.
O'CONNOR: Turning our attention back towards the ring, Noble and Alyas are both back up on their feet. Noble tags in Cameron Cruise and Alyas turns around but no one is on the apron. Cruise takes advantage of the distraction with a roll-up.
ONE!
TWO!
No! Alyas manages to kick out and rolls back up to a vertical base, and now Cruise and Alyas are staring each other down. There is certainly no love lost between these two competitors. Cruise with the advantage over Alyas in previous contests and Alyas is looking for revenge tonight.
H'WOOD: I was speaking to Alyas backstage earlier today and when the subject of Cruise came up, he informed me that in this ring he would, and I quote “(BEEP) his (BEEP) and (BEEP)on his mother's (BEEP) before (BEEP) the (BEEP) out of it”. So I suppose you would be right in say that there is a few issues between these two men.
(CUTTO: PHIL ATKEN jumping up on the apron)
O'CONNOR: Atken finally take his place in this match as Alyas and Cruise stare each other down. Although, I doubt Atken can expect a tag from Alyas any time soon.
H'WOOD: Of course not, the minute to allow another member of your team to become the legal man, you are surrendering your shot at the title.
O'CONNOR: Of course, on the flip side of that coin, you also need Nova to be in the ring. Alyas gains nothing from pinning Cruise in this bout.
H'WOOD: I wouldn't say he gains nothing, I'm sure he would take solace in destroying Cruise, he just wouldn't get himself a title shot.
O'CONNOR: And we're off! Cruise and Alyas trading blows, the lefts and rights are flying all over this right, neither man letting off on the other.
H'WOOD: I don't know if Cruise want to get into a brawl with Alyas though, you have to keep in mind Alyas is an established brawler, a brawl does not work in to a Cruise advantage.
O'CONNOR: You may be right on that as Alyas getting the upper hand here. A right from Alyas, and another, a series of right hands from Alyas to Cruise has Cruise dazed. Alyas now whipping the dazed Cameron Cruise in to the ropes. Alyas now coming off the opposite ropes, perhaps looking for an incredibly impactful lariat here. Cruise with the leapfrog! Alyas has lost his footing now, stumbling about the ring a bit, turns back around to Cameron Cruise who meets him with a drop kick.
H'WOOD: Quite a bit of momentum in that drop kick of Cameron's. This is exactly what he needs to do, dives and jumps, he needs to avoid the brawling.
O'CONNOR: Alyas rebounding off the ropes now, still a little loopy from the dropkick, looking for that lariat again but Cruise manages to duck out the way. Alyas however manages to hault his momentum and nails Cruise with a brutal club to the back of the head.
H'WOOD: Impressive display from Alyas there, managing to stop himself in his tracks, and smacking down Cruise before Cruise had a chance to turn around.
O'CONNOR: Cruise now stumbling back into his corner, and Nova tags himself in. Cruise doesn't look too pleased about that.
H'WOOD: He knows if Nova is the legal man, Cruise could very well kiss his title dreams goodbye. He certainly doesn't want him in as the legal man.
O'CONNOR: Cruise taking his place back on the apron, arguing with the referee whether Nova was holding the tag rope or not, to no avail however as Herpin has declared it a legal tag.
H'WOOD: I tag a lot of legal things. You'll never catch ole Hollywood tagging anything illegal, let me assure you. Although, sometimes I'm tempted to watch it on video...
O'CONNOR: Thanks for that.
H'WOOD: I'm just adding a little colour to the match, it is my role after all.
O'CONNOR: We've now got Alyas and Nova in the ring. This may very well be the moment Alyas was looking for, he wants to get his paws on the NFW Title, and with Nova tagging in he may be about to take the first step.
H'WOOD: It's a lot easier said than done Beanpole, there is a reason Nova has that belt around his waist right now.
O'CONNOR: We have the two men immediately going after each other, Alyas certainly not letting up here. Nova chopping away at Alyas, Alyas responded with some stiff punches. Alyas kicks Nova right in the gut and lifts him up for a suplex but NO! Nova manages to flip out of it and using him momentum, take Alyas down with a reverse DDT.
H'WOOD: Impressive speed their by Nova.
O'CONNOR: Nova trying to take advantage of the situation, going for a flash pin here...
ONE!
TWO!
Alyas manages to get his shoulder up. He's not ready to let this one go yet.
H'WOOD: If Nova gets the pin in this match, you end up having five very disappointed people leaving the arena tonight.
O'CONNOR: I'm surprised that Noble, Cruise and Atken even let the pin happen. If they want a shot at the title, they all need to insure that Nova doesn't come out of this as the victor.
H'WOOD: I'm sure they all knew that with Brock's drive, he wasn't going to lose this thing yet but unless they are complete mongoloids, they will not let that happen again uninterrupted.
O'CONNOR: A frustrated Nova now picking up Alyas, locking him up in a waist lock, looks like he's looking to hit a good old fashioned German Suplex here. Amazingly however, Brock manages to flip his way out of it. Brock takes full advantage of being behind Nova, locking him up in a rear naked choke.
H'WOOD: Normally I'm a man who enjoys anything with the name naked in the title, but the choke is where I draw the line.
(CUTTO: JASON PAYNE stirring once more. As he gets back up, stunned, HELGA and DICKWOOD both whip him into the steel steps.)
O'CONNOR: Atken's entourage again making their presence felt in this match. They really want to keep Jason Payne out of this match.
H'WOOD: Of course they do, it increases their odds in this match.
O'CONNOR: Will it really matter though? Alyas has this choke locked in. Nova may get knocked out cold here. Nova struggling here, trying to drag himself and Alyas towards the ropes, while his wind pipe continues to be blocked.
H'WOOD: The bad news for Nova is he's pulling himself towards his opponents corner. He's inching ever closer to Atken.
O'CONNOR: Nova may not even need to reach the ropes here. Atken has now laid himself down on the mat, with one hand on the tag rope and the other outstretched towards Nova and Alyas, he's trying to nudge himself towards Alyas, trying to tag himself in here.
H'WOOD: Unless he can reach Alyas in the next few seconds, I don't fancy his chances, Nova is looking like he's about out.
(CUTTO: NOVA going limp, while HERPIN goes over to check on him. HERPIN raises Nova's arm and it drops)
O'CONNOR: If that hand drops two more times, Brock Alyas is going on to Crash 47 with a title shot banked.
H'WOOD: Atken still trying to nudge himself closer to Alyas while holding on to the tag rope, half his body is already in the ring under the bottom rope.
O'CONNOR: The hand of Nova has been raised again
(CUTTO: PHIL ATKEN's middle finger barely scraping ALYAS' shoulder)
O'CONNOR: Herpin was about to raise that arm once more time but he's said the tag is official. Alyas is fuming. In his mind, he had this won and Atken just cost him the match.
(SFX: Crowd pop)
O'CONNOR: I think that cheer was for Nova hanging on, not the arrival of Phil Atken into this match. If that was a cheer for Phil Atken, I would be extremely concerned for the mental well being of this crowd.
H'WOOD: I think Atken made his arrival in this match quite some time ago, just ask the corpse of Jason Payne down in front of us.
O'CONNOR: Atken and his family has certainly done a number on him but if he gets back in this, Atken better make a run for it.
H'WOOD: I'm sure Dirk and Helga are making sure he won't get back in this thing.
O'CONNOR: Atken in the ring now, dragging Nova away from the ropes and immediately goes for the pin.
ONE!
...NO! Alyas and Cruise both in the ring to break it up, Alyas kicking Phil right in the skull and Cruise dropping an elbow on Phil's special area.
H'WOOD: Atken was hoping to just let Alyas do all the work and let himself pick up the pieces, but he still has to contend with Noble, Cruise, not to mention what is now a very pissed off Brock Alyas before he can get anywhere near that title shot.
O'CONNOR: Atken now trying to to pull himself back together from that skull and nuts shot, while Nova is trying to
H'WOOD: Of course, these two men aren't without their issues either. Nova called Atken the turd of this company, which may have fired up Atken here tonight. He certainly seems more on the ball with Helga and Dickwood in tow.
O'CONNOR: Cruise now back in the ring, mounting Atken and laying in to him him a series of punches. Cruise certainly considers Atken beneath him and wants to prove it right now. The referee now counting out Cruise, threatening to disqualify him, but he won't let up. Alyas back in the ring, clearly trying to stop Cruise from ending this match. He's pulled Cruise off Atken, and now they're going at it. Herpin is attempting to break it up, but... JESUS! Alyas has rammed himself and Cruise out the ring, both men have landed on their feet and their brawling right in front of us.
H'WOOD: We're flying rapidly out of control here. If they two get even an inch nearer, I'm out of here, you can call this thing on your own.
O'CONNOR: Noble now deciding to get involved in the mayhem. He's up on the top rope, and... WOW! He just tossed himself right at Alyas and Cruise as they were brawling in front of the announcing table, he said he was a risk taker, but I don't know if this risk really works to his advantage.
H'WOOD: It's clear to me the kid would rather show off his flashy move than win this thing.
O'CONNOR: We've got Alyas, Payne, Cruise and Noble out here in front of us and inside the ring, Atken and Nova are still trying to shake the cobwebs. WATCH OUT! Payne goes for a big clothesline, but gets flipped over the barricade by Cruise! Cruise now making his way towards Alyas and grabs him from behind…OH! Noble with a kick to the gut! Another! It’s a double-team in the ring as Dirk’s turning beet red trying to get Phil on his feet in the ring…
H’WOOD: Atken may be reliving his junior prom night when he took his step-cousin to the ring and that 200 pound heffer said to hell with the term “we’re related.”
O’CONNOR: Nova on his feet and he’s walking over to Atken, hooks his leg…WAIT! (loud screams!) Atken with an Inside Cradle! ONE! TWO! NO! Nova kicks out and bumrushes to his feet as Atken staggers up and takes him down in a sunset flip – WAIT! Atken put on the breaks, he drops his crotch onto Nova’s face and tries hooking the back of his legs…(CROWD EXPLODES!) NOVA’S FRANTICALLY STANDING UP! HE’S GOT ATKEN UHHHHHHHHHHP! MODIFIED POWERBOMB! HOLY CHRISTMAS! NOVA DROPS FOR THE COVER! ONE! TWO! THRNO! CRUISE BROKE IT UP! CRUISE BROKE IT UP!
H’WOOD: And I don’t think that’s going to be good for teamwork!
O’CONNOR: Nova’s in Cruise’s face! Cruise in Nova’s face! Right hand by Nova! Right hand by Cruise! Noble’s now trying to separate them, but Nova uses his momentum to toss him out of the ring! Atken with another rollup on Nova! ONNNNNE! Cruise rips Atken off and has him hooked around the waist! (LOUD ROARS!) ALYAS BUMRUSHES IN, HE’S GOT CRUISE AROUND THE WAAAAAAAAAAAOWWWWWWWWW! (LOUD CRASH! CROWD EXPLOSION!) DOUBLE DECKER GERMAN SUPLEX! NOVA JUST FELL ON HIS FEET IN SHOCK!
H’WOOD: Ok…THAT was insane.
O’CONNOR: Cruise and Atken are out! Payne is out at ringside, Noble’s groggy on the other side…and we’ve got Alyas and Nova standing toe to t—WHAT THE HELL? ALYAS ROLLED OUT! HE’S…HE’S LEAVING THE MATCH, WHY!?!
H’WOOD: Because he ALREADY has a title shot at Nova, maybe if he sells out his team than NOBODY but him will get a shot!
O’CONNOR: I’m starting to think his gambling interests may be coming into more play than we realize!
H’WOOD: You say tomayto, I say tomahto.
O’CONNOR: (over loud boos!) Brock Alyas is walking up the entrance ramp, flipping a bird at Nova then making a motion around his waist like he’ll be wearing a title. Nova is in disbel—LOOK OUT! PAYYYYYYYYYNE! HE’S BEHIND NOVA! HE’S GOT HIM IN A FULL NELS—NOBLE’S BEHIND HIM WITH A ROLL-UP! ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOO! NOVA BREAKS IT UP!
H’WOOD: This team is coming apart at the seams!
O’CONNOR: Nova and Noble in each other’s faces! (BOOS!) NOVA SLAPPED HIM! (CHEERS!) NOBLE JUST CLOTHESLINED NOVA OUT OF THE RING!
H’WOOD: Well, someone isn’t acting like they enjoy their rookie hazing!
O’CONNOR: Atken with a low-blow to Noble from behind! (cheers!) Payne catches Atken with a boot to the head, but WAIT! CRUISE HAS HIM! REEEEEEEEALITY CHECK! OHHHHHH! HELGA JUST NAILED NOBLE IN THE HEAD WITH A VIKING HELMET HEADBUTT! HE STAGGERS BACKWARDS INTO AN ATKEN ROLLUP! CRUISE WITH THE COVER! THEY’VE BOTH GOT PINS! HELGA’S HELPING PHIL! ONNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! HERE COMES NOVUHHHHHHHHHH! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) NOT IN TIIIIIIIIIIIIIME! THREEEEEEEEEEE!
H’WOOD: Um, who the hell just won?
O’CONNOR: I…I…I don’t know!
(CLOSEUP: The referee looking at the situation and not sure what to do as ATKEN rolls out of the ring and raises his hand on one side. QUICK CUTTO: CRUISE standing up and raising his hand in victory. QUICK CUTTO: NOVA wide-eyed in shock, looking back and forth confused…much like the ref. The crowd starts buzzing as there’s no announcement being made.)
O’CONNOR: If Atken and Cruise just got pins…WHAT HAPPENS?
H’WOOD: Nothing ever goes right around here. NOTHING.
O’CONNOR: We’re getting word…that nobody’s made a decision, but we’ve got to go to commercials! We’ll be back, hopefully with an idea of what the hell just happened…
Winner: Bwuh?
It’s incredible how people view each other. A simple change of clothes, a glance cast downward, and you can disappear from sight more completely than if you hid in the maintenance room.
This is probably the most practical application of wearing a mask in my short career so far, and I’m not even wearing it. I passed Mercado and Craig Miles on my way here.
Eddie just smirked.
For obvious reasons (or perhaps not), I went down a different hallway when I saw Jack Harmen coming my way. I also avoided Kin Hiroshi, just to be safe.
But I walked right past Felix.
I walked right past Professor Tremendous.
I even walked right past SARS.
Of course I did. Why would any of them give a second look to a mere janitor? I didn’t really take the time out to see how far I could take this; I had a mission to complete.
As the door opened, Dr. Curiosity and Eegor glanced at me, for just a moment, before they went back to their match prep. I put down my broom and swept all around them, but I kept my eyes open for—
—there it is.
The Curious Rulebook. And it was open.
And I smiled.
I might not have been able to lift the book out of here, or make any High Flyer – inspired changes, but I was able to see what was in store for us. Now that I know what Dr. Curiosity has planned, we can try to come up with a countermeasure for as much as we can.
After all, knowledge is power.
(FADEIN: Back LIVE! KERRY O’CONNOR and LAMONT HOLLYWOOD at ringside as wrestlers for the Grand Prix Main Event are being separated in the ring by referee GREG HERPIN and security.)
O’CONNOR: “Welcome back fans, we’ve got 9 in the ring and awaiting our last participant Doctor Curiosity, whose famous rules will be in effect tonight. For those wondering about the results of the last match, the official word is a DOUBLE PIN and that the Generallisimo will have something SPECIAL planned for Crash 47.”
H’WOOD: “Well, I’m guessing that means it’ll involve fire.”
(CUE UP: “Call the Doctor” – Sleater-Kinney)
O’CONNOR: And I think this means that Dr. Curiosity is on his way to the ring with Eegor behind him, we’ve finally got all ten men out here for the Grand Prix 500 match!
H’WOOD: Can we skip the boring stuff and maybe take care of what’s really important?
O’CONNOR: Such as?
H’WOOD: What the heck are the rules in this match?
O’CONNOR: Boos, mixed with cheers, rain down on Dr. Curiosity as he and Eegor enter the ring, and—oh, now this is ridiculous!
H’WOOD: Is not! Those things need to be protected!
O’CONNOR: Don’t adjust your television sets, fans – Eegor has just opened his shirt, and the Curious Rulebook appears to have been duct – taped to his chest.
H’WOOD: Safety first!
(SFX: *RRRRRRRRRIPPP!!!!* mixed with a sad and pathetic scream)
O’CONNOR: That’s gonna leave a mark. Fans, I think we’ve finally got the lowdown on this match. Curious Rules are in effect for the duration, with a number of them already written down in the Rulebook. At any time, the rules can be added to or amended, with the only caveat being that they must appear in the Rulebook before they can be acted upon. Eegor has been given a small table with a microphone from which he can announce, or enforce the rules as they come up.
H’WOOD: Don’t forget, they can be added by anyone! Dr. Curiosity doesn’t have to do it all himself! He can delegate the rest of his subordinates on his team to do it.
O’CONNOR: Of course he can. We’ve been given notice of two rules to start, that High Flyer must begin with his hands tied behind his back, and Impulse must begin blindfolded, but the rest are going to be withheld until they become relevant. Of course, Lord Coyner Pollard and his Diplomatic Immunity renders all Curious Rules null and void when he’s in the ring.
H’WOOD: See, that’s just not fair.
O’CONNOR: Why not? Is it fair that High Flyer has to start this match with his hands tied behind his back?
H’WOOD: Yes. He interfered in the good Doctor’s all but inevitable victory over Impulse. He needs to be taught a lesson.
O’CONNOR: And Impulse, blindfolded?
H’WOOD: Collateral damage.
O’CONNOR: High Flyer appears to be starting this one off, and the referee gives a final tug to the length of rope tied around his wrists. Digital Mortality is starting things off on the other end, and there’s the bell! Wait, what’s he saying?
H’WOOD: Impulse needs to cover his eyes!
O’CONNOR: Impulse with the blindfold resting just above eye level, apparently the referee will allow him to leave it where it is until he’s tagged in. Wait… what’s Eegor doing?
H’WOOD: Genius!
EEGOR (V/O): Curious Rule #2: Impulse has to start the match blindfolded. Impulse has to put the blindfold on NOW!
O’CONNOR: They’re making this up as they go along!
H’WOOD: Exactly!
O’CONNOR: Digital and Flyer ‘lock up,’ and I use that term loosely, as Digital put his hands on Flyer’s shoulders, and backed him into the ropes! Forearms to the chest, and a knee to the gut!
H’WOOD: Wasn’t High Flyer supposed to be good, or something?
O’CONNOR: It’s not just the lack of offense that his hands tied is hindering, but when you don’t have use of your hands, you can’t even try to defend yourself from your opponent’s assault. Mortality with a hook of the head, and a somewhat modified suplex!
H’WOOD: It got the job done!
O’CONNOR: Cover, ONE… Tw—Kickout! He’s not going to beat High Flyer that easily!
H’WOOD: But without his hands, how’s he gonna get up?
O’CONNOR: High Flyer with a nip up as Digital Mortality bounds off the ropes again, and a hard kick to the chest by Flyer! That’s how, Lamont!
H’WOOD: I’d give him a round of applause if only he could join in.
O’CONNOR: Flyer circles behind Digital. I think it would be wise for him to make a tag here, and deal with the fact that his hands are tied.
H’WOOD: That’d be smart, but nobody accused him of being smart, did they Beanfry?
O’CONNOR: Flyer off the ropes again, and a baseball slide just took Mortality off his feet! He rolls onto his knees, and Flyer is back up!
H’WOOD: Why don’t they use the rulebook?
O’CONNOR: Haven’t they already?
H’WOOD: I mean to make Flyer have to hop on one foot or something!
O’CONNOR: He’s hopped, alright! Flyer just hopped from the mat to the top turnbuckle, and pulled his hands below his body in the process! The fans are coming to their feet as he pulls one foot around the bind, and there’s the second! Double axehandle between Digital’s shoulder blades, and he just looped his hands around his neck!
H’WOOD: Disqualify him!
O’CONNOR: I’m not sure what grounds, Lamont – Curiosity himself put the rope around his wrists, and there you have it – the referee is just letting it go!
H’WOOD: You can’t choke a man, Beanfry!
O’CONNOR: But you can tie him up?
H’WOOD: Now you’re getting it.
O’CONNOR: Mortality is on his knees, but he’s still fighting forward, trying to get to his corner! They’re asking him if he wants to give up, but I don’t know if he can even choke out the words right now.
H’WOOD: We need a rules check!
O’CONNOR: Eegor might’ve heard you, because he’s flipping through those pages like a madman! He’s up, and he’s got Digital’s hand!
EEGOR (V/O): Curious Rule #3: Eegor can interfere as long as he’s at least partially outside the ring.
H’WOOD: Genius!
O’CONNOR: Well, he’s keeping his left foot on the other side of the ring apron, but Flyer has an unbreakable grip with that rope around his wrists! We’re at a standstill, except for Mortality turning purple!
H’WOOD: Not to worry, Dr. Curiosity is on the floor! Need a pen, sir?
O’CONNOR: Don’t give him a pen!
H’WOOD: Too late, he asked nicely.
O’CONNOR: You offered!
EEGOR (V/O): Curious Rule #A16: Eegor can be used as a go – between for tags.
O’CONNOR: SARS JUST SLAPPED EEGOR ON THE BACK OF THE HEAD! According to the new rule, that makes SARS the legal man! He’s in the ring! HE JUST BLINDED HIGH FLYER WITH THAT VIRAL MIST!
EEGOR (V/O): Curious Rule #J25: Anything that comes out of SARS’ mouth is legal
O’CONNOR: I don’t believe this, they’re making it up as they go along!
H’WOOD: Isn’t that the point?
O’CONNOR: SARS with a fist to the back of Flyer’s head, and a kick to the ribs! No, it’s a series of kicks to the ribs! Over and over! Isn’t he gonna go for the pin?
H’WOOD: Why? He’s in control!
O’CONNOR: SARS finally with a scoop, and he just threw High Flyer over the top rope—HE HELD ONTO THE ROPE AROUND HIS WRISTS! He’s holding Flyer up by the rope, and a series of kicks to his back! THERE’S A TAG!
H’WOOD: That wasn’t a tag!
O’CONNOR: Felix Red just shoved Simply Beautiful Andrew Rossi into High Flyer, and the referee’s counted that as a tag! SARS LET GO OF FLYER AND GRABBED ROSSI BY THE HAIR!
H’WOOD: See? The clown don’t care!
O’CONNOR: SARS has Rossi on the mat, and he’s bouncing his head off the canvas! Impulse to the floor to check on Flyer, and Pollard has instructed Jeeves to help Impulse untie the lunatic!
H’WOOD: They should concentrate on the fact that their teammate is getting bounced like a basketball in the middle of the ring. But that’s just me.
O’CONNOR: SARS with a scoop, and a yank of the hair, he just drove Rossi into his knee braced on the mat! He’s pushing down on his chest, and driving his elbow into Rossi’s back, but he’s not quitting!
H’WOOD: He should just quit. Felix shoved him into the deep end of the pool before he was ready, and SARS just animalized him.
O’CONNOR: SARS is biting him! He’s biting the back of his head and trying to twist his neck!
H’WOOD: This is where you can tell the real winners from the real losers. Impulse and Flyer are trying to untie themselves… sick. Felix couldn’t be bothered to help Rossi, and Pollard wouldn’t dignify himself with the effort. On the other side, all of Dr. Curiosity’s team is fit as a fiddle.
O’CONNOR: You’ve got a point there. SARS scoops Rossi and sends him into the ropes… He’s got him hooked, KILLING JOKE! The cover, ONE… TWO… THREE!
H’WOOD: And there’s six points for you!
O’CONNOR: SARS just dismantled Rossi! He’s not stopping, either! Kick to the ribs, and he’s got Pollard by the hair! I guess he’s the new legal man!
H’WOOD: Toss him some brass knuckles and let ‘em stick ‘em in his mouth for a second!
O’CONNOR: Eegor just sent a chair into the ring, and SARS has Pollard scooped—
H’WOOD: What’s that idiot ref doing now?
O’CONNOR: Diplomatic immunity, Lamont! All Curious Rules are null and void while Pollard is in the ring!
H’WOOD: …Well that’s unsportsmanlike!
O’CONNOR: SARS moves in to grab him, and Pollard snaked away from him!
H’WOOD: He doesn’t want to be touched by ANYONE in this match, and I can’t say I blame him.
O’CONNOR: Another grab, but Pollard sidestepped him again! SARS has to be frustrated, after his total dominance of Simply Beautiful, and an initial volley against Lord Pollard, he’s been stymied at every turn!
H’WOOD: He’ll hear you, Beanfry.
O’CONNOR: Sars now lunges at Pollard and has him by the hair, but the referee is immediately getting in the middle of them to pull him apart. Uh-Oh, Sars with a poke to the eye and Pollard is staggering around! I’m not sure whether to be happy about that regarding Pollard’s demeanor and recent comments. Sars being pushed back by the ref, but LOOK OUT! Pollard blindly charges in a cracks a forearm shiver, Sars is down! Pollard immediately tags in Impulse, who was the only guy making an effort to reach over the ropes.
H’WOOD: And probably the only guy willing to touch Sars in the spirit of competition. I’m pretty sure that Flyer and Red would try to smoke him.
O’CONNOR: Digital Mortality tags Sars from behind and I don’t think Sars was happy about that. Digi slingshots in and he’s crisscrossing off the ropes with Impulse…OH! (LOUD BOOS!) SARS JUST NAILED DIGI WITH AN ENZIGUIRI!
H’WOOD: Are you trying to rap like Sars? ‘Cause that’s awful.
O’CONNOR: Digi just stumbled into a Jumping Swinging Neckbreaker by Impulse! IMPULSE WITH A KIP-UP AND (LOUD CHEERS!) STANDING MOONSAULT! WHAT AGILITY! IMPULSE HOOKS THE LEG AND HAS A PIN! ONNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEE! HE GOT HIM! MORTALITY’S ELIMINATED!
H’WOOD: Well, apparently Sars doesn’t like that guy.
O’CONNOR: I don’t think he was ready to come out and he’s quickly hopped back in the ring and is all over Impulse with a series of right hands! Looking at Professor Tremendous and Doc Curiosity commiserating in their corner while laughing…I think they’re going to be more than ok with that.
H’WOOD: Listen, I love the meanstreak in Sars, but I’ve yet to see any genius, maniacal planning out the man’s head that’s pigeonholed him as just a lowdown, dirty freak with no morals. People only fear that up to a certain degree, Beanfry.
O’CONNOR: (over cheers!) Impulse fighting back to his feet with a series of right hands to the midsection of Sars! Both men on their feet and Impulse backs off the ropes – WHOA! Sars explodes with a reverse thrust kick into the chest of the Marathon Man! Impulse against the ropes, here comes Sars! (cheers!) Impulse flips him over the top ropes, WAIT! (mark!) Sars landed on his feet! Impulse with a SPRINGBOARRRRRRRRD! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) BODYPRESS ON SARS! HOLY MOSES! WHAT A MOVE BY THE MARATHON MAN!
H’WOOD: Don’t leave a puddle in your seat, Beanfry…we’re only getting started out here!
O’CONNOR: Impulse grabs Sars and quickly rolls him back in the ring…WATCH OUT! SLINGSHOT SENTON! RIGHT ACROSS SARS’ STERNUM! Impulse goes for the cover! One! TWOOOOOOO! THRNO! Sars kicks out and he’s immediately crawling for his corner, but Impulse grabs his foot and yanks him away! Impulse going for a Step Over—AW NUTS! (BOOS!) LITERALLY. Sars just blasted a foot into Impulse’s netherregions and he’s fallen to the mat…Sars going for the tag, WHAT THE DEUCE!?
H’WOOD: Well, that’s going to make things a little interesting.
O’CONNOR: Curiosity and Tremendous just pretended to have something in their eyes and hopped off the apron. The fans don’t know whether to cheer or not!
(CLOSEUP: FACE-EATER pursing his lips as a wearied SARS reaches out for a tag.)
O’CONNOR: Adam Dick tags in and Impulse is up and eats a faceful of Dick’s bicep with a vicious running clothesline! Adam Dick bounces off the ropes spastically, is that some epileptic ninja form – NO! …it just turned out to be a prelude to a snap dive headbutt right into the head of Impulse – this kid is a COMPLETE FREAK! Sometimes I wonder if the Wrestling Revolution has any mind bent towards keeping traditions in line at all.
H’WOOD: You adjust with the times, Beanfry. For every Dick, there’s a Hollywood.
O’CONNOR: I thought all Hollywoods were Di—
H’WOOD: You’re gonna stop short, Beansprout. That’s MY move.
O’CONNOR: Impulse trying to shake out the cobwebs, but he’s got an elimination which has to help in whatever Miles’ wild plans are. Impulse up, but he catches a kick to the head from Dick. That might leave an imprint on his head! Impulse backpedaling into the neutral corner, here comes the Faceeater! OH! Kitchen Sink Knee! Impulse doubled over and Dick whiplashes him back upwards with a Muay Thai Knee! Impulse has to be seeing stars right now!
H’WOOD: This Wrestling Revolution is about the traditions of good versus evil and maybe there’s still that sense of outlandishness…but these freaks sure bring an highly evolved sense of wrestling as well. How many different styles are just in this ring alone, but in the same weight class?
O’CONNOR: You actually made an eloquent remark, Lamont.
H’WOOD: Well, there’s only so many hours I can watch go by before I say “F(BLEEP!) IT, I’ll do Beanfry’s job right.”
O’CONNOR: The Illustrious Faceeater working over Impulse in the corner with a series of shoulderblocks and now grabs him by the arm and whips him across the ring! OOF! Impulse hits the corners hard and here comes The Illustrious One! (LOUD CHEERS!) Impulse moves out of the way of the Bronco Buster Avalanche Splash! Dick just got his surname ratcheted across the middle turnbuckles, which he’s now hanging from upside down! Impulse with a sliding dropkick right into his jaw!
H’WOOD: Now we’re starting to hit a groove, Beanfry! These guys are starting to hit hard and move fast! Kinda like your wife when you don’t cook her dinner.
O’CONNOR: Impulse dragging Faceeater into the middle of the ring and now he’s climbing up to the top rope…IMPULSE PERCHED AND READY TO FL—
EEGOR V/O: CURIOSITY RULE #4 -- Opposing team not allowed to use the top rope for moves.
O’CONNOR: “OH NO! Impulse was about to spring off, but held off…he’s trying to keep his balance! (LOUD SCREAMS!) CURIOSITY AND TREMENDOUS SHAKING THE ROPES! (LOUD GROANS!) OH GOD, IMPULSE JUST SPLIT LIKE AN AXE THROUGH WOOD!
H’WOOD: Not the time for graphic imagery, Beansprout! What’s wrong with you!?
O’CONNOR: Sars now violently shaking the ropes with glee AFTER Tremendous and Curiosity stop, which causes Impulse to flip over and back onto the mat…man, what a turn of events! Faceeater now crawling to his corner and Professor Tremendous is all too happy to make the tag! He beat out Sars for it and Tremendous is in a house afire with several kicks to the head! Tremendous reeling up Impulse with a tug of the hair and rips a forearm uppercut smash! Impulse leaned back against the ropes, the Professor measures him up – CHOP! (crowd wolf whistles!) ANOTHER CHOP! (wolf howls from the crowd!) AND ANOTHER CHOP! Impulse hurt in a bad way, Tremendous with a quick snap mare, vicious kick to the head and a rolling necksnap! A Tremendous Trifecta, if you will!
H’WOOD: I won’t! Dress it up all you want, but you’re seeing a true PERFECTIONIST in that ring. Keep in mind, Brock Alyas never got that money! Tremendous is driving around in a sooped-up Toyota TREMENDOUSIZED Tercel and we’re all happy for him!
O’CONNOR: Tremendous bringing up Impulse, SMARTLY taking towards his corner in a standing position and hooks him in for an Abdominal Stretch! He’s got him locked, stock and barreled!
H’WOOD: More importantly, I love the TREMENDOUS ring position! He’s within arm’s reach of each of his partners!
O’CONNOR: Tremendous working over Impulse, now holding his arm out…Sars grabs it and he’s pulling on it, while the ref is checking with Impulse if he wants to give up! (BOOS!) COME ON REF!
H’WOOD: Tremendous turns around and sees Sars winking at him, that got a doubletake…
O’CONNOR: They quickly dispatch as Herpin’s eyes dart over just a little too late to catch them! Tremendous wisely wiping off that free hand on Impulse. Tremendous now making sure to reach back for Curiosity and they’re locked in! (BOOS!) Impulse screaming in pain, Herpin gets up quickly but they let go in time – I can’t believe this strategy is working!
H’WOOD: And you were complaining about tradition, have some patience!
O’CONNOR: Hold on! Here comes High Flyer, but Felix is trying to hold him back! Flyer can’t take it either and he’s yelling at the ref to watch Curiosity…Curiosity mocking him back…Herpin cutting off Flyer, and LOOKIT THIS! (cheers!) Impulse with a hiptoss! Curiosity quickly comes in and hooks Impulse from behind with the Abdominal Stretch again! (BOOS!) Pollard now dragging Flyer by the ear to the corner, but Flyer nails him with a kneelift!
H’WOOD: That’s just letting Sars come in and kick Impulse in the gut repeatedly! WHOA! FELIX JUST RAN THROUGH LIKE A BAT OUT OF HELL!
O’CONNOR: He just dropkicked Sars in the back of the head, sending him out of the ring! Curiosity starts kicking Felix as he tries to stand up, but its like they have no effect! (THWACK!) OHHHHHH! FELIX KICK! (THWACK!) ANOTHER FELIX KICK! CURIOSITY JUST LEAPT OUT OF THE RING SCREAMING!
EEGOR: (V/O) CURIOSITY RULE #5 – Felix Red is not allowed to kick Doctor Curiosity.
H’WOOD: Damn straight.
O’CONNOR: Impulse staggering up, OH NO! (loud boos!) Tremendous right behind him and relocks the Abdominal Stretch! How much more of this can Impulse take!? WAIT! (CHEERS!) Impulse with a hiptoss again and he’s trying to crawl to his corner! Tremendous quickly gets up and drives an elbow into the back of his head! Tremendous hooks in a side headlock, but Impulse immediately fighting to his feet…backing against the ropes, he pushes Tremendous off who hits the opposite ropes…OH! (groans!) Impulse ducked down for the back body drop, but Tremendous hit him with a boot to the head! Tremendous hooking him in a chancery, TREMENDOUSPLEX! (CHEERS!) WAIT! FLYER TAGGED IMPULSE’S FREE LEG AS HE WENT UP! What a veteran move!
H’WOOD: And I think we’re in the crosshairs for a brutal one!
O’CONNOR: (over groans!) Flyer with a slingshot elbow drop across Tremendous’ bridging body! DEAR GOD! Flyer quickly up and he’s picking up the Professor’s legs…PEACEFUL SLUMBER! FLYER’S VERSION OF THE ELEVATED BOSTON CRAB! (LOUD SCREAMS! CRASH!) WAIT! NOOOO! SARS JUST PULLED CURIOSITY AND FACEEATER BY THE BACKSEATS OFF THE APRON! They collided with the barricade! Tremendous is trying to crawl to his corner…but Sars isn’t on the apron, he’s laughing hysterically AT Tremendous from the floor!
H’WOOD: This is one twisted man, Beanfry…but let’s not forget that if he eliminates his teammates, he’s probably got a better chance to win with already getting one elimination!
O’CONNOR: Tremendous reaching for the ropes – NONONO! (LOUD SCREAMS!) SARS IS TRYING TO BITE TREMENDOUS’ HAND OFF! And that’s allowing Flyer to REDRAG Tremendous back to the center of the ring! (LOUD CHEERS!) TREMENDOUS IS TAPPING! HE CAN’T TAKE IT!
H’WOOD: And that’s TWO opponents that SARS has eliminated from his own team. There’s no way the last two aren’t going to have eyes in the back of their head…this is getting ridiculous, even by my standards.
O’CONNOR: “We’re going to take a 15-second break for your local satellite provider advertisement, when we return…we’re down 3 but still have SEVEN TO GO!
O'CONNOR: “Welcome back after that commercial break. We're still involved with the Grand Prix Elimination Match, and there have been no further casualties since you left us. We've currently got High Flyer and Sars in the ring, with Flyer's team enjoying a 4-on-3 advantage.”
H'WOOD: “I think I've seen a 4-on-3 video with Sars in it, on the internet.”
O'CONNOR: “Well, that's something I don't want to know, especially if Sars is being as dominated as he is here by High Flyer! There's a great Double Arm DDT that leaves his opponent flat on the mat. He charged in, taking a boot to the gut after getting his own partner to tap.
H'WOOD: I think that Doctor Curiosity is going to have to ban High Flyer from doing any sort of offensive move at all!
O'CONNOR: He should ban his partner from the match…Flyer going to the second turnbuckle now. He would clearly prefer to go all the way up, but those are the rules as laid down by the nefarious Doctor Curiosity. Sars is getting to his feet, but he's groggy, and here comes High Flyer! Flipping Neckbreaker! Sars is down and the ref is counting! ONNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOO! (cheers) SHOULDER UP!
H'WOOD: I can't tell if Sars looks dazed, or if that's just the way he usually looks.
O'CONNOR: Either way he's being stalked by High Flyer right now, and he looks like he might be getting ready for the LOCOMOTIVE! Up gets Sars, and here comes... wait! Curiosity's in the ring! The illegal man with a Clothesline to the back of High Flyer's head!
H'WOOD: The referee is having serious words with the doctor, but what's this?
O'CONNOR: Curiosity has got the rules out again. He's saying that anyone with a sufficiently professional title can call his own tags merely by saying 'TAG' in a clear manner!
H'WOOD: A masterstroke!
O'CONNOR: So Curiosity is now the legal man, and he's legally stomping a mudhole in High Flyer's back! The fans don't like it, but the doctor doesn't care. He's really laying into Flyer here, picking him up and hitting a Suplex, and then dropping his knee across his face. Of course there's a lot of history between these two, especially in matches of this nature. Curiosity has won more than he's lost, but it was High Flyer who came out on top the last time they wrestled.
H'WOOD: I doubt he'll be on top here, as Curiosity goes skyward and there's the Curious Yellow!
O'CONNOR: That second rope leg drop is leading to a pin, and the ref's there to count it! ONNNE! TWOOOOOO! NO! High Flyer gets a foot on the bottom rope. Good ring-craft from the experienced wrestler. The doctor won't let up though, as he picks up Flyer and goes for the Side German Leg Sweep! NO! Harmen blocks it and turns around with a Double Palm Uppercut out of desperation! Both men are down on the mat!
H'WOOD: If only Professor Tremendous hadn't been eliminated... he could call in without having to get near his team-mate!
O'CONNOR: He's out of here though, and so it's all down to who gets to the corner quicker. Flyer is starting to stir and is moving towards his corner, who waits with his arm outstretched. Can he get there? The doctor is up now and moving to stop him. It's going to be close!
H'WOOD: Get in there, Curiosity!
O'CONNOR: He dives, but it's too late! Flyer makes the tag! Flyer's tagged in Felix, and he's gone straight to work on the doctor. There's a Forearm Smash, and another, and then a third one to knock the Nefarious One off his feet! Felix isn’t allowed to kick him, remember that! Curiosity is back up and back down, walking right into a Hip Toss, and then an Arm Drag! Felix is on fire now, but in comes the Illustrious Face Eater! He blindsides... no! Felix ducked the attack and hits a Dropkick to send Adam Dick right out of the ring! The crowd are lapping it up!
H'WOOD: Bah.
O'CONNOR: Felix drags the doctor to his feet, grabs him by the head and spins around with an excellent Tornado DDT! He's going up the ropes, just to the second rope because of the stipulations, but... wait... Curiosity is frantically signaling to the referee. He's pointing at the pad of paper in his hands... and the ref is waving Impulse back down from the ropes. What's happened here?
H'WOOD: I've just been informed by my good friend Eegor that this was a planned move, and that Impulse and the rest of his team are no longer allowed to come off the second rope.
O'CONNOR: That's the top two ropes out of bounds for a team full of aerial experts! It's devious, and some would say a little unfair!
H'WOOD: And those people would be wrong.
O'CONNOR: Irrespective of that, the delay has let Doctor Curiosity reach his own corner and tag in the Face Eater, who seems keen to get in and get some licks in on Felix.
H'WOOD: Gross.
O'CONNOR: You don't have to take everything literally, you know?
H'WOOD: Really?
O'CONNOR: Yes. Now here's a lock-up, and Facey gets the better of it. He goes behind Felix and pushes him to the ropes, coming back with him and rolling backwards into a pinning predicament! ONNNNNNNNE! NO! Felix kicks out forcefully, but gets up into one hell of a kick from the Face Eater!
H'WOOD: That's the ILLUSTRIOUS Face Eater to you, Kerry.
O'CONNOR: He may be illustrious, but that's a simple stamp to the... lower abdomen, shall we say, of Felix Red. The former World Champion doesn't seem to have enjoyed that, and who can blame him. Senior Referee Greg Herpin is quite rightly taking aside the Face Eater and giving him a stern talk.
H'WOOD: Adam Dick is above the rules... surely everyone knows that?
O'CONNOR: Not the Curious Rules tonight, Lamont. He's bound to their weird ways as much as everyone else. Not that he seems to need any help right now, as he's got Felix on the mat, and looks to be helping him up, surely only to cause him more pain.
H'WOOD: He's kind like that.
O’CONNOR: FaceEater with an Irish Whip against the ropes, Felix ducks under his side elbow…and Pollard tags! Dick didn’t see it as he hits a back body drop! WATCH OUT! (groans!) Pollard with a chopblock from behind and Facey’s down! Pollard with a cheapshot and he’s quickly driving elbows into the leg of Dick! Dick trying to drag himself out of there, but is having problems…Pollard with a kneedrop onto the leg!
H’WOOD: You can’t help, but admire this man’s ringwork. Especially the chopblock to set it all up.
O’CONNOR: I’m not shocked at all. Pollard picking up FaceEater and drives him to the mat with a Kneebreaker! The fans in Daytona are livid, considering the Anti-American remarks he mouthed off with earlier.
H’WOOD: Americans are behind, you can’t fault a man for his opinion.
O’CONNOR: Pollard bouncing off the ropes, swandive headbutt! Oh man! Lotta guys using their heads in this match. Pollard bringing up the Illustrious Faceeater…(STOMP!) SNAP SUPLEX! Pollard rolls to his feet and hooks Facey’s leg in a grapevine and starts twisting against the weight of his body. Facey’s moving quick to get to the ropes, wincing in pain…
H’WOOD: It’s the long-term damage that Pollard is trying to cause that’s important to him.
O’CONNOR: Facey does get a hold of the ropes, Pollard stands up and he’s tagged by Flyer! (cheers!) Pollard’s trying to push Flyer back OUT of the ring, he doesn’t want him cramping his style I guess! Flyer dragging Facey around and lets out a big “whoo!” and he’s going for a Figure Fo—WHAT THE!? (LOUD BOOS!) Pollard just raked the eyes of Flyer! (LOUD GROANS!) OH COME ON!
H’WOOD: I think he just busted the man’s tallywhacker!
O’CONNOR: Pollard just Bent it like Beckham…right in Flyer’s nads! Facey catches the doubled over Flyer in a small package! ONNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOO! THRNO! FLYER REVERSES IT! ONNNNNNE! T—POLLARD JUST KICKED FLYER!
H’WOOD: This is what happens when you disrespect Diplomatic Immunity!
O’CONNOR: ITS TURNED BACK OVER! ONNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOO! THREE! THREEEEEEEE! FACEY’S ELIMINATED FLYER! I don’t believe this! Flyer’s on his feet and attacking Pollard, but look at the face of Curiosity who couldn’t be happier to see his nemesis taken out like this! Meanwhile, Impulse is just in shock…but in contrast to Sars, maybe he’s going to let his team self-destruct rather than create it.
H’WOOD: There’s two sides to every story, that’s for damn sure.
O’CONNOR: Flyer getting pulled off by Facey, who points in his face and LAUGHS at him! OH! Flyer with a headbutt, but lookit this! Security just pulled out his legs from under him and have him surrounded!
H’WOOD: Facey’s staggering in the WRONG direction!
O’CONNOR: His back’s to Pollard, OH NO! HE’S GOT HIM UP ON HIS SHOULDERS! THE BOLEYN DRIVAHHHHHHHHHH! OH SWEET MERCY OF MARY MOTHER OF GOD! POLLARD JUST KILLED HIM! HE’S GOT THE COVER! ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEE! And that’s two eliminations out of nowhere! High Flyer and the Illustrious Faceeater are out after one elimination each and we’re down to the final five combatants with a 3-on-2 situation at hand! Pollard, Impulse and Felix versus the most unlikely duo I’ve ever seen in Doc Curiosity and SARS.
H’WOOD: Its like Anus and Andy!
O’CONNOR: Sars is the one flying in first and Pollard’s immediately trying to escape the situation! And lookit this, Impulse and Felix just hopped off the apron in protest! Pollard’s screaming at them and Sars has him in a waistlock and pops the hips! (loud cheers!) GERMAN SUPLEX! Pollard just got planted on the back of his head, Sars bouncing off the ropes…JUMPING LEGDROP! Sars covers and hooks the leg! ONE! TWO! THRNO! Sars back on his feet and waiting for Pollard…THRUST KI—NO! Pollard counters with dragon whip leg screw takedown! Sars makes the tag to Curiosity and Pollard’s staggering to his corner…OH! (LOUD CHEERS!) IMPULSE AND FELIX JUST HIT A DOUBLE SPINNING LEG LARIAT ON POLLARD!
H’WOOD: Why would they do that!?
O’CONNOR: It almost didn’t hit me until now! IMPULSE IS FROM NEW YORK CITY! …and well, why wouldn’t Felix take advantage of someone like Pollard like this?
H’WOOD: Damn you and logic!
O’CONNOR: Pollard getting up woozily on one knee – LOOK OUT FOR THE DOC! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) SCHRODINGER’S SMACK! SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHHHD! POLLARD’S OUT! CURIOSITY COVERS! ONNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
H’WOOD: THOSE IDIOTS! He was the ONLY one who was exempt from Curiosity’s rules, he was the only one could help!
O’CONNOR: WE’RE DOWN TO FOUR! FELIX AND IMPULSE AGAINST SARS AND THE DOCTOR! The Doctor and Impulse are trailing Sars right now by one point, while Felix is behind 3 points…but maybe even worse, without a single elimination in this match!
H’WOOD: He could be biding his time Beanfry, out of anyone in this match…hell each one in this match have called out one another’s sanity multiple times. You know what to expect from Impulse and Curiosity…Sars is cutthroat for winning when he can. Felix…I don’t know, if he gets an elimination…he’s the nihilist and willing to make a point about it.
O’CONNOR: Freud 101 with my colleague as its Impulse coming into the ring and waiting for the Nefarious one to stand and he catches him in an armdrag! The Doctor up quickly again and into another armdrag! Oh man, Impulse just shouted at Doc…he said he could outwrestle him blindfolded!
EEGOR: (V/O) “CURIOUS RULE # 6 – IMPULSE MUST PUT BACK ON HIS BLINDFOLD!”
O’CONNOR: Oh come on!
H’WOOD: Wow, Doc had a spare…where he pull that from?
O’CONNOR: His labcoat, Lamont.
H’WOOD: I bet Sars made a frowny face ‘cause it wasn’t keeping his taint dry.
O’CONNOR: Impulse putting it on…Doc immediately puts him in a side headlock, wait! (cheers!) Impulse pushes Doc off the ropes, the Nefarious bounces off and has to leap over the Marathon Man as he drops to the mat – Impulse up with a quick power pushup and WOW! (CROWD ROAR!) HE JUST HIT A BLINDFOLDED DROPKICK ON CURIOSITY!
H’WOOD: Ok, that’s all well and good, but he’s still blindfolded!
O’CONNOR: Curiosity is in shock…and HA! He’s trying to sneak away from Imp—NO! (LOUD BOOS!) SARS JUST RAN IN AND CRUSHED IMPULSE WITH A CLOTHESLINE!
H’WOOD: See, maybe Sars IS sane and Curiosity is stone cold crazy.
O’CONNOR: Impulse down as Sars makes a loud “DURRRRRRH!” sound at Curiosity who’s obviously embarrassed. Oh boy. Curiosity pouncing on Impulse and he’s now choking him with that blindfold, I guess he’s allowed to take it off! Impulse fighting to his feet, runs forward and koppa kicks himself off the turnbuckles and back over Curiosity! (LOUD POP!) Curiosity is still looking at the sky, Impulse with a rollup! ONNNNNNNE! TW—NO! Curiosity rolls out and WHOA! Impulse rolls out of the way of a modified Shining Wizard attempt! The Marathon Man is out of the ring, Curiosity following him out and he’s got a chair!
H’WOOD: I smell a new rule coming, Beanfry!
O’CONNOR: Impulse running off the ropes and Curiosity slides in and gets up…AND THROWS THE CHAIR TO IMPULSE!?
(CLOSEUP: The crowd confused much like IMPULSE, who’s looking at the chair in his hands.)
EEGOR: (V/O) “CURIOUS RULE #7 – IF IMPULSE IS GIVEN A WEAPON, HE MUST USE IT.”
H’WOOD: HAHAHA! GENIUS!
O’CONNOR: How’s THAT genius?
H’WOOD: He’s going to have to use it and get disqualified! ITS AGAINST EVERYTHING IN THIS KID’S B—(LOUD THWACK! …crowd buzz…) What the?
O’CONNOR: Impulse just swung at hit the turnbuckles. (THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!) He’s hi—(THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!) I think he’s trying to get the crowd clapping along with the chair slaps against the turnbuckles…
(CLOSEUP: IMPULSE slamming the chair against the turnbuckles in a 1-2-3, the crowd responds with two claps and a stomp. CURIOSITY looks visibly frustrated at the turn of events!)
CURIOSITY: Vat are you doing!?
IMPULSE: …I’m using the weapon.
CUROISITY: You vere zupposed to hit me!
IMPULSE: No.
CURIOSITY: (pointing to the sky, why I don’t know) YES!
IMPULSE: NO.
CUROSITY: JAH!
(CLOSEUP: CURIOSITY stomps towards IMPULSE, grabs the chair…which IMPULSE doesn’t let go of…CURIOSITY starts trying forcing him to hit him with it!)
H’WOOD: Okay, this is getting out of…
(LOUD THWACK! CROWD SCREAMS!)
O’CONNOR: OH SWEET MOSES! Impulse let go of the chair and the momentum caused Curiosity to swing that chair into Referee Greg Herpin’s face!
H’WOOD: He looks like your wife in bed with you, Beanfry – DEAD TO RIGHTS!
O’CONNOR: This…this can’t be g—LOOK OUT! (LOUD ROARS!) SHARKS IN THE WATER, THAT’S WHAT THESE TWO ARE! SARS AND FELIX ARE IN THE RING!
H’WOOD: Sars came in first, but Felix slingshot in! OH! OHHHHH!
O’CONNOR: (over crowd wincing!) THEY’RE LEGKICKING EACH OTHER! I don’t think this is a battle anyone can win in NFW, but Felix Red…and Sars is quickly finding that out! Felix Kick! Another! Sars staggering into the corner and Felix starts rapid firing those vicious kicks to this ribs! Arm hook and Irish Whip by Felix! (crowd pop!) BACK HANDSPR—(CRASH!) NOBODY HOME! FELIX TEETERING AROUND! SPRINGBOARD ROUNDHOUSE KICK! What a move by the maniacal clown! Felix out of the ring, Sars following out after him – watch out, he’s got him by the dreadlocks and crams his face into the barricade! Overhand slap to the chest by Sars! Another! Meanwhile, in the ring…Impulse and Curiosity are pacing around each other cautiously…this match has just taken a wild turn!
H’WOOD: I don’t think either of them wanted the referee to suffer any loss of consciousness considering their partners involved. Leave it to the vanilla coke drinking kid to ruin all the fun. I’m starting to REALLY dislike that sense of…I don’t even know what it is.
O’CONNOR: Honor? Integrity?
H’WOOD: I was going to say retardedness, but I may just give that one to you Beanfry.
O’CONNOR: Curiosity looking a little flustered in this predicament, I guess mad scientists don’t enjoy chaos they’re not creating…Impulse rushes in, he’s got a hold of Curiosity’s leg…takes him down! Impulse dragging him into the center…oof! Quick elbow drop strike! Impulse stands up quickly and delivers another! (cheers!) another! Another! Impulse pauses…(LOUD POP!) SHOOTING STAR SPLASH! I think this kid’s gonna find a way to fly off the ground, even if he isn’t allowed to use the turnbuckles!
H’WOOD: You can’t seriously compare the damage if he came off the top rope, don’t be a fool.
O’CONNOR: Outside the ring, I don’t like where that one’s going…into the crowd and getting close to the outer boardwalk area!
H’WOOD: Well, let’s be honest…those two shouldn’t let out into normal society… EVER.
O’CONNOR: OH! Sars smashing Felix’s head into a hand-railing and NFW Insurgent Security is now rushing over to head them off, Sars mouthing off at one of them and OH! Felix buries a desperate knee to the gut, which knocks the wind out of him! Impulse working over Curiosity with a few stomps, leans over and picks him up…has him up and hits a stomachbreaker!
H’WOOD: We may see a bratwurst come up!
O’CONNOR: Felix dragging Sars and WHOA! He just fired him off into the side of a concession stand, Sars staggering around – WOW! (ROARS!) SPRINGBOARD REVERSE BODYPRESS OFF THE COUNTER BY FELIX! Sars is down and color me impressed!
H’WOOD: I heard your wife dresses you up in pink, rides you like a roughrider while calling you Shirley.
O’CONNOR: Surely, you can’t be serious.
H’WOOD: Don’t call me Shirley or I’ll slap you harder than your grandmother.
O’CONNOR: Impulse working over Curiosity in the ring and you can see the trepidation on Eegor’s face. Impulse reeling him in and takes him down with a neckbreaker! Impulse now going over to Herpin, trying to revive the referee from that VICIOUS chairshot he took…WAIT! Curiosity’s getting up…
(CUTTO: SARS raking FELIX’s head along the splintered concession stand counter, while laughing hysterically. CUTTO: Back in the ring, where CURIOSITY is climbing the top rope behind IMPULSE!)
O’CONNOR: This is getting out of control! Impulse doesn’t see Curiosity, Eegor is running over with the Curious Mallet! LOOOOOOOOK OUT! NOOOOO! (LOUD GROANS!) HE NAILED IMPULSE! CUROISITY LEAPT OFF AND WHACKED HIM!
H’WOOD: I’m not sure if Impulse is the gangsta kind, or the I just paid a fat hooker kind…
O’CONNOR: Curiosity rolls over Impulse and covers him, Eegor’s writing something in the rulebook! What in sam’s hell – OH HOLY CHRIST!
(CUTTO: SARS perched on the concession stand and he hits a MOONSAULT on FELIX RED! The crowd leaps in unison, going apeshit! SARS rolls around, holding his ribs as FELIX curls up in a ball.)
O’CONNOR: Complete pandemonium! COMPLETE PANDEMONIUM! What a move by the evilest clown this side of Kalamazoo! Curiosity smiling devilishly, I don’t understand why…
EEGOR: (V/O) CURIOUS RULE # 8 – Doctor Curiosity reserves the right to count his own pinfalls if he feels that the official is going too slowly!
O’CONNOR: NO! NOOOOOO!
H’WOOD: HE’S RAISING HIS ARM, THIS IS OFFICIAL!
O’CONNOR: ONNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOO! THRRRRRRRRR(LOUD ROARS!) NOOOOOO! CURIOSITY GOT TOO DRAMATIC!
(CUTTO: CURIOSITY looking down in shock at IMPULSE, he strikes his hand supersonic speedstyle to the mat!)
O’CONNOR: ONE!TWO!(LOUD ROARS!) GET OUTTA HERE! IMPULSE GOT A SHOULDER UP! CURIOSITY HOLDING THEM BOTH DOWN…BUT HE CAN’T COUNT!
(CUTTO: CURIOSITY letting go and counting quickly!)
O’CONNOR: ONE! TWO! NO! The Marathon Man is in Marathon Mode! Curiosity is beside himself! He’s yelling at Eegor to bring him the rulebook and the pencil, I think he’s growing frustrated with Impulse yet again! These two seemed destined never to be able to beat one another…
(CUTTO: FELIX somehow mounting a comeback and shotgunning off Felix Kicks to a backpedaling SARS, his eyes wide in shock! SARS trips over some chairs as Insurgent Security keeps a perimeter from the fans. FELIX charges and springboards off a chair, nailing a side kick to the head! QUICK CUTTO: EEGOR handing off the pen and paper to CURIOSITY, who starts scribbling furiously. Its quite possibly a doctrine as the DOCTOR shakes out a wrist cramp or two.)
H’WOOD: He’s not writing this out in German is he?
O’CONNOR: I’ve actually never heard him speak any to be honest.
H’WOOD: Did he just ask for a synonym for venerial?
O’CONNOR: Must be Sars relate—WAIT! (CHEERS!) SARS AND FELIX JUST TOPPLED OVER THE BARRICADE! THEY’RE BACK AT RINGSIDE! They’re both bloodied and completely exhausted from their non-stop aerial brawl outside the ring…(crowd buzz!) CURIOSITY SIGNS, SEALS AND DELIVERS IT TO EEGOR!
H’WOOD: …he doesn’t have a microphone! How could he forget it!?
O’CONNOR: He’s running towards his desk, WATCH OUT! (LOUD ROARS!) OHSWEETMERCY!
H’WOOD: Well, now EVERYTHING just went out the window.
O’CONNOR: FELIX RED JUST THRUST KICKED EEGOR IN THE HEAD! Curiosity’s on his knees on disbelief, Felix picks up the rulebook…HE’S GOT THE RULEBOOK!
(CLOSEUP: FELIX reading the last rule. He nods, then shrugs and drops it the ground. He gets up onto the apron, then slowly enters the ring with a cocky smirk as CURIOSITY starts backpedaling.)
O’CONNOR: Curiosity could be in a two on one situation now and thi—wait, what is HE doing?
(QUICK CUTTO: SARS holding the Curious Rulebook and bristling as if repugnant fumes are entering his nose. He starts shaking his head, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. With an angry stomp to Eegor’s table, he starts writing. QUICK CUTTO: EEGOR getting carried back by security unconscious.)
SARS: The I’M IMPULSE AND SEXUALLY CURIOUS RULE…(points at IMPULSE like a stern mom) No more watching that “innocent” (yes SARS quoted the air) Asian porn, where they massage their nipples delicately for ten minutes while your little rose sleeps…only to ask why she’s got a sticky back. Its wrong, its wrong for me to see and no, I don’t want to watch with you…AGAIN. (SARS bridges his non-existent glasses) THE I’VE DEFINITELY GOTTEN HEAD FROM A MUSTACHED WOMAN BECAUSE I’M DAHHHHHHHHHHCTER CURIOUS – Get a REAL German accent. And get that Hitler moustache, I’ve told you would accent your Aryan colored eyes.
(CUTTO: CURIOSITY looking out to the crowd nervously as FELIX and SARS lock eyes intently.)
SARS: I’M FELIX RED AND NOTHING EXISTS RULE BECAUSE I’M TOO COOL – Every rule so far does NOT exist.
O’CONNOR: Ummm…that leaves a Sars rule out last!
H’WOOD: I think EVERYONE saw that coming, Beanfry! Like your wife in the middle of her Wednesday Night Massage Clubs.
SARS: And my rule is let’s have a party. No rules. ANYTHING GOES.
O’CONNOR: (over loud roars!) THIS IS NUTS! SARS IS UP AND THE TABLE INTO THE RING! (more cheers!) FELIX IS IN THE RING! He’s kicking Curiosity back to Germany! Curiosity leaping up after each one in different directions and lands in the corner and eats a wheelhouse kick! (pop!) Impulse catches Sars with a sliding dropkick just before he got into the ring! Sars against the barricade and Greg Herpin is getting up, he doesn’t know what the hell he just m—(LOUD POP!) Oh boy.
(CUTTO: CRAIG MILES walking down the aisle, smoking a cigarette. He’s smirking as the crowd starts buzzing immediately…SARS and IMPULSE take notice, but the Marathon Man ragtosses SARS back into the ring before he can react.)
H’WOOD: Well, Herpin doesn’t know what the f*ck is going on, I don’t know what the f*ck is going on…this is what drives me nuts about NFW half-the-time, Beanfry!
O’CONNOR: I’m afraid to ask.
H’WOOD: WHY is Craig Miles being RELIED on to restore order? THIS PLACE IS A WALKING OXYMORON WITHOUT THE OXY!
O’CONNOR: (over more crowd buzz!) And as if things wouldn’t get stranger…Craig Miles has the Curious Rulebook.
H’WOOD: God help them.
O’CONNOR: He’s ripped out a single, blank page…I don’t exactly underst—(LOUD SCREAMS!) He’s lighting the book…(sighs) on fire. And he’s walking towards us, Lamont.
H’WOOD: You need to forget everything I’ve said for the last eight years in the next two seconds or I WILL KILL YOU.
(SFX: Headset rustling.)
MILES: Don’t worry, I’ve got snipers positioned. (H’WOOD chokes on his own throat) Hello Kerry, Hello Master Tan.
H’WOOD: Hell-wahatwhat?
O’CONNOR: I’m a little scared right now.
MILES: Just do your job.
H’WOOD: Who’s Master Tan?
(CUTTO: MILES patting H’WOOD on the back…)
MILES: I think its time to stop competing with Blaine’s stepfather, Lamont. You just can’t win in the skin tone competition.
(H’WOOD blinks…)
O’CONNOR: And we’ve now offended everyone tonight. What’d you just write on that sheet?
MILES: Save all questions after the telecast, you’ll thank me later.
O’CONNOR: Wait. Wh—(SFX: CLANG!) Ohmygod! There’s a match with complete chaos going on, and I keep forgetting that some of you fans may want to hear about it!
MILES: I told you to do your job.
H’WOOD: You think I tan too much?
O’CONNOR: Impulse just reversed an Irish Whip out of the ring and Sars hit the stairs! Curiosity is getting his head stomped in by Felix – who now whips him up and I’m sorry just for posterity’s sake…GENERAL MILES…
MILES: Yes?
O’CONNOR: What are the rules of this match, right now!??
MILES: Oh right. (MILES claps twice, his voice surrounds the arena) Testing, one two.
H’WOOD: Our mics can do that?!
MILES: No, just my hands. Um, yes, Kerry of course. For right now, we’re going to let Sars’ last rule…rule. No rules.
(MILES gives a thumb’s up to HERPIN, the referee.)
MILES: Don’t worry dude, I got your back.
(CLOSEUP: MILES’ mic blips back to normal as HERPIN winces while splayed across the ropes, a cut on his forehead…closing his eyes tightly in frustration. He somehow musters himself to stand up.)
O’CONNOR: The most underrated fall guy in wrestling history, once again…props himself up.
H’WOOD: That man would take a live grenade for this federation. Ed Hochuli rubs himself thinking about this man’s blind devotion.
O’CONNOR: Impulse rolling Sars back in the ring…Felix picking up Curiosity, it looks like GROUP B is in control right now.
MILES: Now, would be a good time to mention that I’ll be accepting four guys out of this Grand Prix into SuperCrash Two…and Felix Red is currently in SIXTH place. The other 3 are 1-2-3.
O’CONNOR: How convenient.
H’WOOD: Well, if anyone’s made it this far, they did deserve to know.
O’CONNOR: We’re over that thirty minute threshold and these guys are tired. Impulse pounding away with punches and kicks against the wearied Sars…we’ve never seen Sars go though one of those long distance NFW matches start to finish and tonight’s that first time for him…Impulse seems to have worn him down right now, as he’s down in the corner – unable to defend himself! Felix stomping away at Curiosity in the opposite corner! Both men now picking up their opponents, looking at each other and we’re gonna see a little teamwork! (LOUD GROANS!) OH! Double Irish Whip, but Sars crushes Curiosity with a forearm! He’s laughing at him – Look out! Impulse flies in with a dropkick that sends Sars sprawling, but he’s got to keep his eyes on Felix – he’s walking up the top rope and jumps! CLOTHESLINE OFF THE TOP! IMPULSE DOWN! FELIX COVERS CURIOSITY! ONE! TWO! THRNO! Impulse pulls him off, he covers the Doc! ONE! TWO! NO! Sars picks up Impulse by the backseat of his pants and vaults over with a Bridging Back Suplex! ONE! (LOUD GROANS!) OH MAN!
H’WOOD: Well, Sars almost puked up thousands of dollars of drugs!
O’CONNOR: Felix with a kip-up and double-stomp right on Sars’ exposed midsection! These guys are gutting each other right now, Felix has Sars by the hair and brings him up – CRADLE SUPLEX! ONE! TWO! (LOUD GROANS!) Curiosity sneaks in a diving fistdrop to the gut of Felix! He’s bringing Felix up and double underh—NO, HE’S NOT! FELIX WITH A BACK BOD—NO! DOC WITH A SUNSET FLIP! ONE! TWO! (LOUD CHEERS!) Impulse with a knee to the back of the head! Felix rolls out and Impulse is bringing up Curio—NO! (more groans!) JAWBREAKER! Impulse staggering around and SARS has him! (groans!) HEADBUTT! HEADBUTT! Sars tosses him over the top r—(LOUD POP!) Impulse held on, he pulled himself onto the apron…MEANWHILE, Sars thinks he’s out of the ring and wheels around Felix from has him around the head – OH! (groans!) Reverse Neckbreaker!
H’WOOD: That wasn’t pretty, Beanfry! Felix is down and hurt! Sars made sure to snap him over the shoulder HARD.
O’CONNOR: Impulse is waiting on Sars though, while Curiosity is setting up the table against the turnbuckles! Sars turns around – SPRINGBOARD! (LOUD CHEERS!) HURRICANNNNNNNNRANA! IMPULSE HAS THE LEGS HOOKED! ONE! TWO! NO! SARS WITH THE FRANTIC KICKOUT! They’re both up and OH! Boot to the gut! (LOUD ROARS!) DDDEEEEEE DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE TEEEEEEEEE! IMPULSE PLANTED SARS ON THE MAT! HE ROLLS HIM OV—(LOUD GROANS!) Just as Impulse went for the pin, Curiosity hits a well-timed rolling kneedrop across the back of his skull! Impeccable timing! Impulse is shaken, Sars is hurt and Felix still hasn’t recovered! This could be Curiosity’s time to shine and he’s got Impulse he’s picking him up…CHOP! (wolf howls!) CHOP! (wolf howls!) Curiosity now placing Impulse against the table on the turnbuckles – this could get UGLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (CRACK! CROWD ROARS!) NOBODY HOME! CURIOSITY SMACKED THE TABLE WITH A VERTICAL SPLASH!
H’WOOD: And he’s not exactly in the best position of defense right now, he’s more wide open than…
O’CONNOR: Enough with the wife jokes!
MILES: W—
O’CONNOR: Oh, don’t you start! Curiosity on the table, I’m sorry – there’s a lot going on right now! Impulse hits him with a forearm to the back of the head, he’s turning him around – LOOK OUT! (CRACK! CHEERS!) AVALANCHE IMPULSE SMASH FROM IMPULSE! (LOUD SCREAMS!) SARS! SARS! WATCH OW—(LOUD GROANS!) SARS CHARGES IN WITH AN ELBOW OF HIS OWN! We’ve got an Impulse sandwich!
H’WOOD: There’s a mayo joke to be in there somewhere.
O’CONNOR: Stop it! Just stop it! Why are you so quiet?!?
MILES: I don’t have to entertain you. Do your job.
O’CONNOR: PUT THE BACON ON THAT LETTUCE! (LOUD CRACK! CROWD EXPLOSION!) FELIX WITH A BACK HANDSPRING ELBOW SMASH! THE TABLE BROKE UNDER ALL THE WEIGHT! Curiosity collapses and Sars has Impulse by the hair, he tosses him through the middle ropes to the outside of the ring! Sars turns around and eats a right hand from Felix! Another! Another! Felix with an Irish Whip, bounces off the opposite ropes and cracks Sars with a jumping clothesline! Red quickly going up to the top rope, WAIT! SARS IS UP! (GROANS!) HE NUTSHOTTED RED! (MORE GROANS!) He lands spread-eagled on the top, Sars coming up and he’s locked him around the waist! SPINS AND NOOOOOOOO! (LOUD SCREAMS!)
H’WOOD: Jesus Mahoney, no man should ever do that to another man!
MILES: Well I wish I would’ve known that, no wonder High Flyer hates me.
O’CONNOR: MIDDLE ROPE…INVERTED ATOMIC DROP! FELIX RED MAY NEVER PROCREATE AGAIN!
MILES: Kooter would’ve been jealous anyway.
O’CONNOR: He’s writhing on the ground, leaning over – WAIT! IMPULSE GRABBED HIM BY THE LEGS AND PULLED HIM OUT! Impulse with a chop! Another! Another! Sars with a wild right that misses and WATCH OUT! (LOUD CHEERS!) BACK SUPLEX BY IMPULSE! Curiosity on his feet, he’s got Felix by the legs! (GROANS!) DOUBLE LEGDROP BETWEEN THE WISHBONE! SWEET MARY MOTHER OF IMPOTENCY!
H’WOOD: If I’m Felix Red, I’m just tapping out at this point.
MILES: If your Felix Red, you’re not tapping sh(BLEEP!)t at this point.
O’CONNOR: Curiosity covers, ONNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! NO! NO! RED KICKS OUT! FELIX KICKED OUT! Impulse reeling Sars into a standing headscissors outside the ring, I think he’s trying to break his neck! (LOUD ROARS!) PIIIIIIIIIIIIILEDRIIIIIIIIIVAHHHHHHHHHH! SARS IS TWITCHING! HE’S TWITCHING!
H’WOOD: This kid’s pulling out some stops tonight, I’ll give him that.
O’CONNOR: Impulse rolling him over, trying to get him back in the ring…but that’s moving dead weight at the moment…Curiosity pacing around the ring, looking at you Craig. I think he wants to know why you burned his rulebook.
MILES: There’s a rule in this book. The most important rule he should ever have realized.
H’WOOD: I hate when he talks like that.
O’CONNOR: Me too. Curiosity stomping on Felix as he simply tries to get to his knees, the Nefarious and evilest doctor this side of East Germany’s Evil Doctor Guild is in control…I don’t know what he’s trying to—OHSWEETMOSES! (LOUD MARK!) THE SOPRANO! A TRIBUTE TO THE DEVILLE ON FELIX RED!
H’WOOD: I heard that’s how the French decapitated raucous Polynesians in the 19th century!
O’CONNOR: Felix’s…mammajammas are getting pulled down on the Doctor’s right foot as he lies on his back! Herpin doesn’t know whether to make a five-count or ask if Felix wants to tap! I doubt many NFW fans have seen this worked before, but holy moly! (LOUD CHEERS!) IMPULSE! IMPULSE IS OFF THE TAHHHHHHHHHHHHHP! (LOUD CRASH! ROARS!) BULLLLLLLLLDOG! BROOKLYN STYLE BABY! CURIOSITY’S OUT! IMPULSE ROLLS HIM OVER AND COVERS! ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! (LOUD SCREAMS!) SARS PULLS IMPULSE OUT OF THE RING BY THE LEGS! KNEE TO THE GUT! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) THE KILLING JOKE! THE KILLING JOKE! IMPULSE MIGHT HAVE HAD HIS NECK BROKEN!”
(CLOSEUP: SARS slowly standing to his feet, surveying the surroundings and seeing himself as the only man standing. As his eyes slit, his smile widens and he starts reaching under the ring…)
H’WOOD: He might be on sensory overload, Beanfry – give a freak a fish and he’s bound to F(BLEEP!)K IT every which way…three times over!
O’CONNOR: I don’t even want to know what’s going through that man’s mind, but back in the ring…Felix is getting up with the help of the ropes and Curiosity’s lumbering up in a complete daze…OH! (CHEERS!) FELIX KICK TO THE SOLARPLEXUS! That sounded like a gunshot! Curiosity falls to his knees wailing and I CAN’T WATCH! (LOUD OHHHHHH’S!) FELIX KICK TO THE FACE! HE BUSTED CURIOSITY’S NOSE OPEN! HOLY FREAKING CHRIST! FELIX DROPS DOWN AND COVERS! ONNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! THRRRRNO! SARS HAS FELIX! (cheers!) Felix kicks him off and he stumbles over Impulse who was on all fours! Felix up and he’s climbing the top rope! Sars is up and stomping a mudhole on Impulse, who we can thank god is feeling his extremities right now.
MILES: Yeah, but is Felix from before?
O’CONNOR: Curiosity standing up and he’s right in the sights of Felix Red…He’s about to FLY—WAIT! WATCH OUT! (THWACK!) CURIOSITY WITH A CHAIRSHOT! THAT CHAIR HE TRIED TO MAKE IMPULSE USE! FELIX IS OUT! CURIOSITY COVERS! ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEENO! NO! FELIX KICKS OUT
H’WOOD: That was close!
O’CONNOR: Curiosity is completely freaking out on the referee – he’s lost it in there, but Herpin is signaling the two, he’s gotta deal with it quickly! NOW HOLD UP…
(CUTTO: SARS setting up a table near the ring apron and pushing IMPULSE’s limp body, positioning it on the table as the crowd starts buzzing!)
O’CONNOR: I don’t know how much more this kid can take, Lamont! He’s been getting wailed on…
H’WOOD: As usual.
O’CONNOR: Sars on the apron, he’s holding up his arms out wide and DROPS DOWN! (LOUD CRACK! CHEERS!) NOBODY HOME! SARS WENT FOR A HEADBUTT, BUT IMPULSE ROLLED OFF!
H’WOOD: The table didn’t break on impact and now it looks like Sars is taking a nap on it!
O’CONNOR: Impulse climbing onto the table, he’s hooking Sars’ legs…OH YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! (LOUD ROARS!) ESSSSSS TEEEEEEEE EFFFFFFFFFFF! ON THE TABLE! I don’t know if it can support both men’s weight combined…
MILES: Isn’t that like 200 pounds soaking wet?
O’CONNOR: Aren’t you just a shade over 235? Curiosity bringing up Felix and hooking him around he head, looks to be going for a suplex – NO! (cheers!) Felix is blocking it and he’s got Curiosity up in a Vertical Suplex position – LOOK OUT, HE’S CHARGING TOWARDS THE ROPES! (CRASH! CROWD EXPLOSION!) HE JUST DROPPED CURIOSITY ON IMPULSE AND SARS! They’re a pile on a bent through table! WHAT’S FELIX DOING! (LOUD BUZZ!) WHAT’S FELIX DOING?!
(CLOSEUP: FELIX climbing the top rope closes to the trainwreck below! The crowd starts going wild as RED flips his dreads out of his face, revealing a wide grin and with the cacophony of camera flashes accompanying him…)
O’CONNOR: (OVER SCREAMS!) RED FLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIES! (CRASH! CROWD EXPLOSION!) SHATERRRRRRRRRRRED HORIZON! THE SWANTON BOMB ON ALL THREE OF THEM! WHAT WAS HE THINKING!?
(CUTTO: All three men, rolling around on the ground near the shattered pieces of the table that broke on the beach. HERPIN looks down in shock at what’s just happened and with bugged out eyes, makes a shrug in MILES’ direction.)
MILES: TEN COUNT!
O’CONNOR: TEN COUNT!?!?!
(CUTTO: HERPIN shaking his head like this better work and shouts “ONNNNNNNNNNE!”)
O’CONNOR: We’ve got…a TEN COUNT!?! All NFW matches have an outside count of twenty!
MILES: Hey man, all rules were nullified except the one on this piece of paper.
O’CONNOR: Can I see that?
MILES: No.
(CUTTO: All four men motionless outside the ring! HERPIN shouting “FOURRRRRRRRRRRR!”)
O’CONNOR: What if nobody gets back in the ring!?
H’WOOD: I’m going down to Eldrick and Elin’s place for some Mahi Mahi.
O’CONNOR: This is all about who wants to win this the most right now…and as if on cue – FELIX RED IS STIRRING! (LOUD CHEERS!) Felix is using the apron and pulling himself up into the ring! HE’S IN THE RING! HERPIN’S AT SEVEN! (crowd starts screaming!) CURIOSITY! THE DOCTOR IS STARTING TO CRAWL! Impulse…SARS…NOT MOVING, folks. They got CRUSHED in that process and had probably taken the most damage in the match leading up to that moment in the first place!
(CUTTO: CURIOSITY pulling himself on the apron as HERPIN shouts “NIIIIIIIIINE!” and rolls himself under the ropes beating the ten count BARELY. The crowd roars – but security immediately rushes over to IMPULSE and SARS, who are just starting to stir outside the ring. It takes a dozen to get there before they start hauling the two back…)
O’CONNOR: Wait – they’re eliminated!?
MILES: Did I stutter? Ten-Count. EVERYONE had to make it.
O’CONNOR: You didn’t say that!
H’WOOD: Hello Tiger? Get your chef ready!
O’CONNOR: Get off your phone!
MILES: (sighing) Well, I guess if Felix knocked them BOTH out…he can get an elimination.
O’CONNOR: So, that means…Felix is in 4TH PLACE, NOW!
H’WOOD: Get off your abacus!
O’CONNOR: I don’t have an aba—
MILES: Therefore, we’ve got an official final four for SUPERCrash 2…say that fast twice. The WINNER of this match will have the opportunity to select their FIRST opponent for the evening. SMOKE ‘EM IF YOU GOT ‘EM.
H’WOOD: Can these two even stand?
O’CONNOR: That’s a whole different question to ask right now! Both men are down on the mat, trying to pull themselves up with the ropes – we’ve got two of the greatest wrestlers, let alone cruiserweights in the ring right now to settle one helluva match! Felix pulling himself up to a standing base and stalking towards Curiosity, Red…bleeding a whole lot of red right now. Curiosity on all fours – OH! That’s a forty-yarder through the uprights and sending Curiosity into a writhing roll! Felix has the Doctor by his white hair and sends him packing off the ropes and into a TILT-A-WHIRRRRRRRRRRRL! (cheers) BACKBREAKER! He planted the Nefarious One! He could be setting him up for the vaunted Felix Stretch!
H’WOOD: What’s that? A 33-day binge on cocaine?
O’CONNOR: It almost killed Kin Hiroshi and downed SEVERAL opponents over Red’s NFW career! Red bringing up Curiosity to a standing position and scooping him up, WATCH OUT! (LOUD GROANS!) OH MAN! POWERSLAM INTO THE TURNBUCKLES! RED IS TREATING THE DOCTOR LIKE A RAGDOLL!
H’WOOD: Shades of your mother and father, Beanfry?
MILES: Ouch.
H’WOOD: C’mon, he’s Irish.
O’CONNOR: (over loud cheers!) Rapid fire Felix Kicks, while Curiosity is in a tree of woe! The bloodied Felix now backing up – OH! FRONT SLIDE DROPKICK! CURIOSITY’S FACE SPRAYED MORE BLOOD!
H’WOOD: I think he nose is FACING East Germany now.
O’CONNOR: Curiosity plops to the mat, he’s completely out! Felix rolls him over for the cover – ONE! TWO! THRNO! NOOOOOO! (CROWD CHEERS!) CURIOSITY GOT A FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE! Felix a little mad at himself for not realizing how close to the ropes he was, but with all the blood he’s lost…who knows if he’s seeing straight.
H’WOOD: Yeah, the blood loss is why…not the copious amounts of drugs.
O’CONNOR: Red dragging Curiosity literally by the scruff to the center of the ring and covers again! ONE! TWO! THRRRRNO! (LOUD ROARS!) THE DOCTOR GETS A SHOULDER UP! UNBELIEVABLE!
(CLOSEUP: RED’s eyes widened down at CURIOSITY, he mouths “sonofabitch…”)
O’CONNOR: Felix bringing up and OOF! Vicious kneestrike to the head, Curiosity’s down again and Felix is heading onto the apron! You can almost smell this one coming to a finish, I don’t think Curiosity has the make-up to last against this type of opponent…Felix climbing the top rope, SHAAAAAAAAAATERRR—(LOUD CRASH! CROWD ROARS!) NOOOOO! CURIOSITY MOVES! HE MOVED FROM THE SWANTON BOMB!
MILES: Never underestimate a German Doctor, my grandfather told me that. Of course, he was relaying that under a little different pretense.
H’WOOD: Well, now I feel awkward.
O’CONNOR: Both men down as Greg Herpin starts a standing ten-count in the ring, both wrestlers are bloody! Both wrestlers are weary, but according to our General – the winner will have the opportunity to make or completely break their SuperCrash 2 Final 4 run in this Grand Prix tournament!
H’WOOD: Felix, Sars, Impulse and Doctor Curiosity – the Four Horsemen of the Modern Apocalypse of the Mind.
O’CONNOR: Curiosity getting up and now climbing up to the second turnbuckles slowly…LEGDROP OFF THE SECOND! THE CURIOUS YELLOW! Curiosity covers and here comes Herpin! ONE! TWO! NO! The Doctor forgot to hook the leg and that allowed Felix to kick out! Curiosity with a kneedrop to the skull and he’s rolling out to the apron – Curiosity’s going up to the top!
H’WOOD: This could possibly be the biggest upset of the Grand Prix run, I mean I get Curiosity’s won elsewhere…but not in an environment like ours against a man like this!
O’CONNOR: CUROSITY OFF THE TOP! (LOUD CRASH! CROWD ROARS!) HE MISSED THE 45O SPLASH!
MILES: Otherwise known affectionately around the Heel Academy as the 450 Faceplant. Man, I don’t know why he STILL goes for that.
O’CONNOR: If his busted nose wasn’t inoperable, it may be now! Both men are down, Herpin going for the standing 10-count again…we’re closing in on 50 minutes of action! Felix pulling himself up first and Curiosity’s making his way to the turnbuckles, I don’t think getting cornered is a good idea! (LOUD CHEERS!) Red rushes in with an avalanche kneestrike as Curiosity sits himself on the middle turnbuckle, like a wearied boxer! (CRACK! GROANS! CRACK! GROANS!) OH! TWO FELIX KICKS RIGHT TO THE SKULL!
H’WOOD: I honestly don’t think Curiosity can take this kind of beating anymore, his face looks worse than a pizza pie after its had a sexual encounter with a horny James Varga!
O’CONNOR: Herpin backing Felix away into the corner, Curiosity’s reaching into that lab coat of his…what’s he pulling out of there!? (crowd buzz!) It’s a vial of some sort, actually…that’s a test tube – what’s in that thing!?
MILES: If I told you that the Doctor used the piss of Kodiak Vic Creed to develop a serum to turn him into an unimaginable beast would you believe that I helped him create it?
O’CONNOR/H’WOOD: YES.
MILES: What if I told you he’s literally using Felix against himself right now?
H’WOOD: I’d puke on Beanfry.
MILES: Well, let’s just say that Eddie’s sample from earlier in the year has been CROSS-BREEDED.
O’CONNOR: Whatever that radioactive green juice is…Curiosity just drank it! He’s huddled in that corner, Felix has shoved away Herpin and he’s cornering up Curiosity again – OH! (CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!) RAPID FIRE FELIX KICKS! CURIOSITY’S SPITTING BLOOD! Felix backing away with a gruesome smile and DOUBLE YOU-TEE-EFF?!?
H’WOOD: Beanfry! LANGUAGE! There’s a general sitting next to you!
(CLOSEUP: CURIOSITY huffing and puffing, his fingers emulating claws as he rises slowly from the corner…he lets out a long howl with his chest puffed out towards the rafters as HERPIN leaps back two steps, while FELIX arches an eyebrow. CURIOSITY’s lighting infused eyes of dementia lower down towards FELIX, who charges in!)
O’CONNOR: “NOBODY HOME! (SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!) ALTERNATING HAND…CLAW SLAPS TO THE CHEST!?!? WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?”
MILES: Its all within the realms of the ONLY rule written down on this sheet of paper.
H’WOOD: The man’s more feral than Rosie O’Donnell and Oprah Winfrey in an Ethiopian Village! (long pause) Too soon?
O’CONNOR: Felix’s chest is taking the Wolfman treatment! Curiosity burying shoulders into the midsection, I’ve never seen this man like this! Grab of the hand, IRISH WHIP! BOOOOOOOOOOOM! Headshot in the form of a LEAPING KNEESTRIKE! Felix drunkwalking out of the corner and faceplants on the canvas – here comes Curiosity and (LOUD ROARS!) THE CURIOUS CROSSFACE! THE CURIOUS CROSSFACE! IT’S LOCKED, STOCKED AND BARRELED! WHAT A TURN OF EVENTS! THIS IS INSANITY!
MILES: Well, then Felix finally has his answer. It’s ALWAYS in the form of a personality disorder. This man used to know how to surf.
O’CONNOR: But LOOK AT FELIX! He’s now using his own CLAWING methods to try and reach the ropes!
MILES: Well, I don’t want to know what the Doctor will do then…that could be bad.
H’WOOD: Should I start driving 50 miles out of this city’s perimeter as fast as I can?
MILES: Oh no. As long as you can whistle a little Django Reinhardt song, you can lullaby him.
(CLOSEUP: RED screaming in desperation, CURIOSITY hopping around on the mat like a rabid dog while locking in the hold! FELIX’s eyes are bulging, as if he’s never experienced a pain like this in his life…and for the first time in a long time, he’s afraid…BUT he claws closer, the crowd starting to chant “FEEEEEEEEEELIX! FEEEEEEEEEEEELIX!”)
O’CONNOR: FELIX RED…(LOUD ROARS!) HE GOT TO THE ROPES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! We’ll never know if that’s his pride, his heart or his NOT caring one way or the other! (loud buzz!) …HOLD ON! CURIOSITY WON’T BREAK THE HOLD! (LOUD SCREAMS!) HERPIN TRIED TO PULL HIM OFF, BUT THE DOCTOR JUST POUNCED ON HIM! (CROWD FREAKOUT!) CURIOSITY PUT THE REFEREE IN THE CURIOSITY CROSSFACE!
MILES: Yeah, the side-effects are still being worked out.
O’CONNOR: Herpin’s screaming for his l—(CROWD ROARS!) OK, that’s it…
(QUICK CUTTO: THE UBER JUDGE in his long, black flowing robe…stomping down the aisle with an object of metallic spine and seared rubber. Y’see it’s the severed head of ROOK BLACK apparently fused to a metallic spine.)
MILES: Wow, he really DID get that Skynet consultant position.
(CLOSEUP: The eyes of BLACK spinning oddly and in all directions as his spine recoils and jerks spastically every few seconds. The UBER JUDGE hops onto the apron, where DOCTOR CURIOSITY sees him immediately and leaps to his feet!)
O’CONNOR: Curiosity’s rushing The Uber Judge, I think he was out here for revenge on Felix Red! (cheers!) But he’s slingshot into the ring by Curiosity, he’s holding onto that…I don’t even WANT to acknowledge what that is right now.
H’WOOD: I’d just like to say something at this moment.
(long pause)
(ok, a little more dead air.)
H’WOOD: Actually, no…no I don’t.
MILES: Amazingly, we’re still within the guidelines of this sheet of paper.
O’CONNOR: That’s impossible.
MILES: Well, looking at who’s in the ring…I’d just say IMPLAUSIBLE.
O’CONNOR: Curosity criss-crossing off the ropes, LOOK AT THE KIP-UP BY THE UBER JUDGE! OH NOOOOOOOOO! (LOUD CRACK! CROWD SCREAMS!) SIDEWINDER DISCUS HEADPIKE ON A METAL SPINE SHOT!
H’WOOD: Welcome to NFW, Doc.
O’CONNOR: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?!? THAT 360’D CUROSITY!
CROWD: HOLY SH*T! HOLY SHI*T!
O’CONNOR: Felix crawling over to Curosity, the Uber Judge just rolled out of the ring as Herpin’s crawling over holding his bum shoulder! FELIX COLLAPSES ON THE MOTIONLESS CURIOSITY! HERPIN COUNTING! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) THREEEEEEEEEEEE! (SFX: BELL RINGING!) THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! FELIX WINS! FELIX WINS! FEEEEEEEEEEEEELIX WINS!
(QUICK CUTTO: THE UBER JUDGE quickly getting back onto the apron as FELIX RED stumbles and collapses atop the middle rope. UJ still is gripping ‘ROOK’ by the tail of his spine. He steps through the ropes and looks down at CURIOSITY, who’s face is now covered in blood.)
O’CONNOR: These two used to be tag partners! CAN SOMEONE EXPLAIN SOMETHING!? (LOUD SHOCK!) WAIT – UBER JUDGE IS TAKING OFF HIS MASK!
(CLOSEUP: An upper-body shot of the UBER JUDGE slowly pulling off his mask and revealing a face all-too-familiar to the crowd at the moment. Their shock screeches to a blinding halt of shock and confusion, their rabid cheering of the match finale put to bed for the night.)
O’CONNOR: That’s…that’s impossible.
MILES: Just implausible.
O’CONNOR: You knew the whole time, didn’t you?
(SFX: Headset rustling…)
O’CONNOR: Ok, Craig Miles has just stood up and left the table…he’s headed into the ring.
H’WOOD: I really want to read what’s on that sheet of paper right now, but I also don’t want to encounter the firing squad.
O’CONNOR: It is just lying here on the desk.
(CLOSEUP: The stark, emotionless face of ROOK BLACK…dropping the mask of UJ onto the chest of DOCTOR CURIOSITY, while still holding the ‘ROOK’ flail in his other hand. He quietly says “You were just a pawn, I am sorry.” From behind, RED wobbles to his feet with a devious grin. CRAIG MILES rolls into the ring with a microphone. He seems nonplussed at the events…lighting up his cigarette, while RED has his arm raised by HERPIN.)
H’WOOD: Alright, I’m going to read it if this guy bores me.
O’CONNOR: Black has the microphone…Rook Black is the Uber Judge and I’d act more excited about this revelation if I weren’t so COMPLETELY confused right now.
(CUTTO: BLACK taking the microphone from MILES and slowly raising his the ‘flail,’ so he looks face-to-face with the burnt and melted face of his robotic ‘self’.)
BLACK: Tonight, I see an ending. I see a beginning of a strategic era. A house has united as a carnival asylum against its revolution’s premise. This endearment of madness, with its infection so prevalent cannot evolve without those with the structure to confine it.
(ROOK’s eyes slit a little in unnerving ego as he turns to face FELIX RED.)
BLACK: You say nothing exists, old friend. But I know something that always has.
O’CONNOR: (OVER SCREAMS!) NOOOOOOOOOOOO! (LOUD GROANS!) HE FACEBOMBED FELIX WITH THE ROOK FLAIL! OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD!
(CLOSEUP: The crowd losing its mind over the brutal shot! QUICK CUTTO: A fan holding up, what’s apparently an eyeball of ‘ROOK’ that was detached during impact. He puts it in his beer and starts chugging to nearby approval! CUTTO: Back to the ring, a lot of booing as BLACK slowly raises the microphone up to his lips again. He’s with neither smile nor frown.)
BLACK: The Life of the Mind.
(ROOK drops the microphone and rolls out of the ring to complete shock from the crowd, MILES surveys the ring for a moment…takes a last drag of his cigarette and flicks it away.)
H’WOOD: The King Jim New Curious Rulebook of FreeMason Heel Society.
O’CONNOR: I don’t think my brain can take anymore of this, Lamont.
H’WOOD: CURIOUS RULE #1: ZE PROFESSIONAL is not vone to be trusted.
(CUTTO: ROOK BLACK standing outside the ring, he steps over the barricade and disappears with the flail dragging behind him. The crowd watching in shock, parting like the Red Sea.)
O’CONNOR: Fans…I wish I could tell you what this means. I wish I could begin to explain whatever’s happened through this night. I wish I could even preview what’s coming at SUPERCrash 2, but I can’t even begin to FATHOM where we’re headed.
H’WOOD: That and we’re out of time.
O’CONNOR: Saved by the bell once again, fans. That’s all I can say…except that SUPERCrash 2: DAWN OF A REVOLUTION is on the horizon. NOVA VS. JOE, KNOX/TQ/…THIS ROOK BLACK? And if that’s not enough, CURIOSITY/IMPULSE/SARS/FELIX with a side dose of HWC and SUICIDE KINGS!
H’WOOD: You’ve conveniently forgotten VARGA, I like that about you Beanfry.
O’CONNOR: He’ll be facing Legion in what may seem normal compared to this – if that doesn’t want to make anyone at least to tune in to see what happens the whole night, I don’t know what does! FOR LAMONT HOLLYWOOD, THE CARVINAL ASYLUM AND EVERYTHING ELSE – SUPERCRASH TWO’S TRAIN IS COMIN’! GET ONBOARD!
(FADETOBLACK as the crowd buzzes loudly, wide-eyed as ‘Coming Home’ – Derek and the Dominoes starts blasting.)
Winner: Felix Red (lone survivor)``xEkkkVFykAlWaioethE``x1222529098``xNFWBrawl``x11911185844879``x``xDaytona Beach, Florida``xAugust 23, 2008``xwww.nfw.fwrestling.com/cnews/EkkkVFykAlWa.shtml``x``x``x``x``x``x
NFW Brawl``xNFW``xCharlotte, North Carolina.
“The belly of the beast,” Miles told us at 3:45 in the morning, while dozens of construction workers started arriving. “You ever see a wrestling show on an Indian burial ground?”
I’d seen Buck Howser sing “Honky Tonk my honeysuckle, snort your speed on my thighs” just 180 minutes prior to this moment. Ironically and not surprisingly, Buck’s sextuplet French Caribbean Zydeco Female Flautists looked like eight octuplets considering the amount of corn whiskey I’d chugged somewhere south of Chattanooga. The Appalachian is deep, winding and downright freaky.
So, we built our steel brigade amongst the haunted grounds of Charlotte, North Carolina. American Legion Memorial Stadium. 25,000 fans walking into the cosmic comedy that leaves its players psychotically manic. We will laugh, we will say “Motherf—did he really just hit him with a spiked billy-club in the face?” and then wonder if we’re all piledriving ourselves to the center of Hell.
Sirius Radio’s suits and slaves will suffer as well for their satellite signal transmitting on channel 420 just fifteen hours into the belly. “If you see your Grandma doing the Naughty Shuffle, it’s the Acid Makin’ your brain melt like a sautéed mussel” croons from the mouth of Frank the Freak, while the Saddlewood CrackSparks funk it up from behind.
We’ve got Calamity in the crowd, offering backstage passes for boobshots. Toombs is smoking his special cigarettes into the humid and husky Charlotte air. The blood, sweat, tears and awkward sexuality of high school football players rising towards the clouds from the American Legion grass.
We’ve got Wildstar back in his training grounds, I’m Wahoo. I’m going to tell you a story about a Man and his Koopa battling an autistic wunderkind named Kooter, some tales regarding 10 men competing for the Grand Prix Championship. They are fast, they fly high…and most of them are stone-crazylike. Then there is a National Championship defense, served amongst a special of hatred and vengeance. Alyas and Hiroshi, DC Stratton and Blaine Hollywood.
FIREWORKS.
PYROMANIAC TRAILING EYE-CANDY.
FIRE. …brimstone does not raise from the ground.
The STARtron starts firing gunshots of spark explosions…and we’ve got music. CRAZY MUSIC.
I now leave an entry for an intern named Denny, who served breakfast and eggs in the Stone Eyes Woodstock Studio to SARS and I.F.E…
(ok, that’s not for real…)
(but this next match is.)
So, my current situation is not good, ladies and gentlemen…
I was hungry earlier, and had no money, so I went scavenging for food, and luckily (or rather unluckily, as I would soon find out) discovered a ham and cheese sandwich…
…with green, foamy mustard… sitting beneath the radiator.
I gobbled it up in a couple of bites, and now, my head is SWIMMING.
Positively F’d.
OH, SHIT, THE MATCH HAS STARTED!
SARS and I.F.E. lock-up, and Face-Eater is sent into the ropes with an Irish whip. … SARS hits the ropes, and there’s a collision, mid-ring, as SARS drops Face-Eater with a shoulder block! SARS hits the ropes… hops over I.F.E., who then kips up, and throws the clown with a deep arm-drag takeover upon return!
We have ourselves a standoff.
Thankfully, the preceding sequence ended when it did, as it was starting to confuse me and my poisoned mind! No more of that, now; keep it simple, stupid!
SARS, with a headlock on I.F.E, is shoved into full-on sprint into the ropes. I.F.E. hits the deck, springs to his feet, attempts a hurricanrana, but SARS has it scouted – he teeters back, dropping Face-Eater, throat-first, across the top cable!
Face-Eater’s head whips back, and he staggers round… into a violent KICK-WHAM-DDT! SARS doesn’t release his opponent’s head; instead, he cranks back with a front-choke-type thing. (I know it has a name, but my head is all acting all wonky right now; I swear I can actually see the radio waves! … They’re beautifully distracting.)
Face-Eater stands, his head wedged underneath SARS’ arm. SARS knees him in the face a couple times, before Facey decides not to be a dumbfuck, and puts into motion a sequence of moves the likes of which I’ve never, ever seen… because I didn’t actually see them; remember, now, I’m listening to the play-by-play on the radio! … Facey executes a Northern Lights Suplex for a count of two, before popping over and turning and locking SARS’ arm – the one presently flailing about like it’s attached to a Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm-Flailing Tube Man – in a cross-armbreaker! That was nifty!
SARS bridges and rolls, escaping what COULD and probably WOULD have been a broken arm; the name says it all… a truly nasty and debilitating fate.
SARS and I.F.E. are back standing, now. SARS leaps onto the middle rope and attacks with a leg-lariat that smacks Facey right in the, er, face. Facey’s nose’s all bloody, now. And SARS is going all Little Japanese Guy with a myriad of slaps, chops, and kicks that find their mark all over I.F.E.’s body. Face-Eater’s dazed, as SARS hoists him up for a BRAINBUSTAH~!
BUT NUH-UH! An upside-down Face-Eater drives a knee down into SARS’ head, causing SARS to drop him safely to the mat below.
I.F.E. into the ropes… SARS, with a spinning back kick, doubles him over! SARS sprints forward and executes a Shining Axe Kick! Face-Eater’s brains are scrambled – scrambled like the eggs I had for breakfast this morning! And now it seems SARS is fixing to make this match “over easy” – like the eggs I had the day before yesterday! Jesus H. Christ, how I love eggs! He drags I.F.E. off the mat, and it seems we might have ourselves a Killing Joke on the way… NO! SCRATCH THAT! Face-Eater blocks the clown’s finisher, and hits an Exploder of the Wristlock variety! SARS is dumped right on the top of his head! Facey covers!
ONE! TWO!
OH. … OH. …
No.
Just two.
I *think.*
Wildstar’s saying nothing of a three, so we’re just going go have to assume SARS kicked out. The match continues… (UGH~!)
SARS being pulled to his feet… NUT SHUT BY THAT DAMNED DASTARDLY CLOWN! AND THE REF SAW *NOTHING!*
A keeled-over I.F.E. backs away, clutching his “boys,” as SARS makes fun of him and points a finger to his head. Yes, SARS, you’re the smartest boy in class!
SARS sets him up for a piledriver, but I.F.E. says to hell with the pain in his loins, and back-body-drops him up and over! I.F.E. springboards off the middle rope into an attempted Lionsault, but SARS avoids it, and Face-Eater sticks the landing. SARS charges, but Facey sidesteps. … SARS puts on the brakes, turns, and blocks another attempt at a Wristlock Exploder (or is it Wristwatch Exploder? The latter sounds far more excruciating) by elbowing Facey into the side of the head.
SARS lands a head kick that dazes the Illustrious One! He’s got a hold of him! The crowd volume is cranked up a notch, and the tone of the play-by-play guy’s voice turns excited (albeit disappointed in the would-be result), meaning it can ONLY be…
THE KILLING JOKE!
SARS hits it!
He covers!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
And thank God, we have ourselves a winner! I mean, I wouldn’t have cared if Facey had won; I just needed this match to end so that I can go throw-up!
AND I’M OFF~!
Winner: SARS via pinfall
The Grand Prix series continued to roll along like an old bone wagon as Digital Mortality took on the Tremendous One himself, Professor Tremendous, a tremendous athlete if ever there was one. One step beyond perfect I have heard some say, but that may just be rumours and hear say. Gossip and scuttlebutt.
Digital Mortality made his way down to the ring, looking rather focused, hoping to take revenge on the man he believed had cost him the match with Doc Curiosity the previous night...
Wait, this man faced a doctor and a professor in the span of two days? He really has some issues with academics.
Mortality started the match hot, immediately lunging himself directly over the ropes on to Tremendous as he was making his way to the ring. There was some clubberin' going on outside the ring as both men brawled all over the ringside area while the wonderful NFW fans tried to grabs locks of Mortality's hair, I can only assume for scientific reasons but I'm no scientologist.
The brawl was brought to an abrupt halt as Tremendous rammed Mortality directly into the ring post and rolled him back in to the ring. Tremendous rolled into the ring and began attacking the grounded Mortality with series of fist drops, with a couple of stomps thrown in the add a little variety to the attacks.
Mortality managed to get back in the offence briefly, catch Tremendous' leg during one the stomps and bringing him to the ground with a dragon whip. However, the offence was short lived, as something on the entrance way had caught his attention.
Doctor Curiosity
Perhaps trying to return the favour to his fellow academic for last night, the Doc managed to distract Digital Mortality's attention long enough for Professor Tremendous to recover and spin him around in the Tremendous Plex for one, two, three and the sweet, sweet victory.
Curiosity was about to make his way to the back, satisfied in the result but something stopped him in his tracks. Well, more a someone.
Impulse
Impulse attacked the Doc while his attention was still focused on the ring and began brawling with Doc. Doc, not in the mood for a brawl powered his way away from Impulse and made a rapid trek to the back. That’s where he ran straight into High Flyer, the two former enemies tousled before Insurgent Security came out and grabbed Flyer…which allowed Curiosity to escape. Meanwhile, Flyer made his way towards the ring for his match against Simply Beautiful.
Winner: Professor Tremendous via pinfall
What sort of name is Simply Beautiful anyway? I mean, it makes a spiffy nickname, but what made Mr. And Mrs. Beautiful decide . Well unless they were both strippers. And whores. Strippers and whores.
The Grand Prix series continued it's march forward to Poland as High Flyer, a man who sells snow for a living, went one on one with stripper boy. You'd think one profession would be enough for these men.
The match began as you would expect a wrestling match to begin, with the two wrestlers participating in the bout making their way down some form of entrance way and finding some way or another to enter the squared circle. Of course, during this entrance period there is much fanfare and show boating, I believe there was some of that music that the kids love so much playing too.
The two men started off hot, going after each other for the hurtful things they said to each other during that vital promo time we all rely on to decide who doesn't such. Of course, they were bickering about what happened elsewhere, so...
They must've been pretty mad with each other, considering all the punching directly to the face that was witnessed right off the bat. Flyer ended up with the upper hand, with a series of forearms and a quick whip to the ropes. A flying springboard elbow took Beautiful down for a mere two count however. Flyer stayed on the offence, heading out to the apron, however his flippity floo back splash missed as Simply Beautiful simply moved out of the way, causing Flyer to take all the impact on his back. That was a partially redundant sentence.
With Flyer temporally winded, Beautiful pulled himself back up and began stalking Flyer as he attempted to do the same. When Flyer pulled himself up he turned around right into a brutal lariat by Beautiful, turning the snow seller inside out and upside down. With Flyer once again down on the ground and winded, Beautiful went for a submission victory, locking Flyer in to an elevated Boston Crab he liked to call the Manhattan Crab... pretentious prick. However, he may have rushed into the submission, as he had positioned Flyer too near the ropes, and after a bit of a struggle, Flyer managed to power his way forward and grab 'em.
Frustrated at Flyer's escape, Beautiful adopted a more brawler-like approach, locking Flyer in a headlock and repeadetly striking him with a bunch of closed fists, and those are illegal in wrasslin' don't ya know. Beautiful continued the strikes, however breaking the headlock at each four count from the referee. This continued for a minute/minute and a half before the referee decided something had to be done, and pulled Beautiful away for the break.
With the referee pulling Beautiful away from Flyer, Flyer, showing his resilience, pulled himself back up once more. Beautiful went for his second charging lariat of the match, hoping to take Flyer out entirely, however what happened next didn't go exactly as Simply Beautiful was hoping...
Flyer had him scouted that time around, managing to show some power of his own, his lifted up the charging Beautiful, hotshotting Beautiful throat first on the top rope. Capitalising on this advantage, Flyer span the dazed Simply Beautiful around, and a kick to the gut and an underhook brainbuster later, the referee slapped that mat three times and Flyer picked up the victory.
Winner: High Flyer via pinfall
Song number two off the Southern Harmony and Musical Companion kicked into high-gear as the crowd gave a mild and slightly frightened pop for the olde-tyme favorite tag team of Charlie Crowe, Duane Skynyrd – Southern Remedy. Of course, they’ve gained around 40 pounds of beer each in the last ten years…and unfortunately, they don’t have the money to buy new pants to accommodate this.
When Biohazards starts guitar dueling while Onyx starts rhyming, you can pretty much say that we’ve found the polar opposite of rock n’ roll theme music for the evening. F.A.T.E. – Zan Diego and Nakita Dahaka as a combined force had apparently signed their blood-red pentips to the NFW dotted lines of Latin 4 point font contracts.
Duane and Charlie apparently had picked the wrong moment and wrong time to be alive. Diego completely manhandled them before the bell began, crashing into their corner with a double clothesline which rattled the whiskey-soaked brains of popular 90’s tag. Diego pressed and pumped Crowe before tossing him through a table at ringside, then caught Skynyrd in a vice-grip bear-hug before jumping, spinning and planting him nearly through the mat with a belly-to-belly.
The crowd quieted as Diego tagged in Dahaka, planted a side backbreaker and held Duane in position for a vicious Spingboard Legdrop from The Dark Phenom. Why Charlie Crowe even tried to come back in the ring is beyond me as he hazily walked into kick to the gut by Dahaka, then dropped with a double-arm DDT. Diego walked into the ring…and at Nakita’s hand-waving orchestration – DOUBLE CHOKESLAM. Crowe and Skynyrd pinned and F.A.T.E stood in the ring, their arms raised in victory as their music played…and refusing to leave…even as their music kept playing.
Oh joy.
HERE COMES LEGION.
Winner: F.A.T.E. via double pin
And yes.
LUCI4.
The Devil’s Rejects walked out side-by-side and slowly made their way towards ringside. Smiling broadly and gesturing quite unfavorably at NFW’s recent inductions into their world…they entered the ring, all four started sizing each other up.
OH NO. WE’RE FEEDING THE VARGA. …JAMES VARGA.
The fans were SHAKEN, not stirred. They were disgusted and perturbed as the maniacal freak cackled into the microphone about the misnomers of demons, devils and evil smurfs trying to get inside his brain. I’m not actually going to ask if you believe if he said that or not, therein lies the beauty of Varga.
Did I just type those words together?
Ok, I’m losing myself.
Varga’s in the ring with a microphone starting to wonder what everyone would taste like and I’d never thought I’d bold this:
THANK GOD, ITS CRAIG MILES.
Miles has Varga’s microphone cut off, he’s talking about how he’s switched to American Spirits on the advice of his medical professionals. He didn’t say “doctors” …medical “professionals,” people…that’s NFW health insurance for you. Doctor Curiosity can cure a cold as well as comedic German gimmicks not usurped by Hollywood yet.
Miles says its either the cigarettes are doing something to his brain or Varga filmed stuff with a Koopa. Varga assures him it’s the latter…Miles pinches his nose in disgust. Miles says that’s what he was afraid of and courteously asks F.A.T.E. to leave the ring, which only works when Dahaka gets freaked out by Miles’ sunglasses.
That’s normal compared to the following…half-hour or so. See, Miles has apparently not only HIRED someone to CATCH the Koopa. (seriously, there’s a wellness plan here?) BUT.
BUT.
If that Koopa is caught, Varga can’t wrestle on Crash 46…in fact, he can’t wrestle until SUPERCRASH 2. Where he will face LEGION and the loser will be FORCED to manage the other person and help them ensure victories under threat of DISMISSAL. Miles remarks “That if I can’t beat sense into the two of you, he’ll just make you ONE problem to deal with.” I don’t know if that’s smart or crazy, I NEVER know when he’s smart or just crazy.
Meanwhile, tonight…Legion and Varga can tag team with each other against the only man willing to associate himself with a man willing to catch a freaking Koopa. No music…but Steve Knox is the lone wrestler that shamefully walks out onto the entrance ramp.
“I knew I shouldn’t have let him near NFW cameramen.”
Miles shoots back “And Knowledge is Power knowing that once that Koopa is caught, we’re stringing him up on a pole for a FRONTIER STAMPEDE. ChickenWire Cage, Bring Your Own Blank.” Miles goes onto let everyone know that anyone who responded to the Koopa or admitted it existed will wrestle in the match.
Poor, poor NFW wrestlers.
So, Legion and Varga are forced to tag against Steve Knox and?
Well, what can Miles say, but its time Steve Knox started understanding the pains of hanging around on the wrong side of NFW’s neighborhood.
With Legion and Varga in the ring, both trying to resist the urge to punch the other directly in the nuts, Steve Knox made his way on down to the contest, looking mildly bewildered, as he expected The Codemaster aka the only man willing to Catch a Koopa to be heading down the ring with him. Perhaps even arm in arm, we'll never know now.
As Steve Knox entered the ring, Craig Miles instead informs Steve Knox that his partner for this evening will NOT be The Codemaster, which makes Steve Knox a sad panda. Mile informs Knox that in the interested of a fair and balanced match, he had to reconjigger – at least I think he said jigger – the teams so they were evenly matched in emotional stability. He introduced Knox to his partner for tonight...
KOOTER MICHAELS-CRUISE.
I think Knox may have emptied his bowls in the ring at his first sight of Kooter on the ramp. I don’t want to check either, so let’s consider that an “expression”
KMC stormed his way to the ring, where Legion and Varga where already fighting with each other, taking them both out with Coat Hanger Abortions. I can't believe I just typed that. With both men out on the ground, KMC attempted to pin them both, but the referee didn't allow it, informing Kooter that the bell hadn't even rung yet.
Kooter, looking like a gloomy Gus, headed over the his corner and Steve Knox entered the ring. The referee signalled for the bell and the match officially began. Knox rushed over and tried to pin Varga, but the referee informed him Legion was the legal man. How the referee decided this, only Sebastian Tellier knows. Knox was about to go for the pin on Legion, but Mike Knox jumped the barrier, jumped in the ring, yelled “FOR THE LAST TIME! I AM NOT HIM!” pointing to Steve Knox, before jumping over the barricade on the opposite side of the ring. This caused enough of a distraction for Legion to recover from his Abortion...
Legion and Knox traded fore-arms back and forth, then some fists, and a leg or two. It was a verifiable body market in that ring as the two men battled back and forth. Knox got the upper hand, knocking Legion back into his corner where James Varga slapped him really hard in the back for the tag. Legion and Varga stared each other down as Varga entered the ring.
Knox and Varga battled back and forth for a short while, then something happened. Well I'm pretty sure it happened anyway. Some sort of giant turtle man made his way to the ring. I swear, this actually happened. The Koopa Troopa, I was informed it was. Around this time, Legion distracted the referee by trying to get in to the ring, and while the referee's attention was focused on Legion, the Troopa smashes Varga brutally with his shell and bails out of the ring. Varga turns around dazed to Steve Knox, who takes advantage of this bizarre situation by taking out James with a vicious and incredibly nasty looking suplex.
With the referee's attention back on the match at hand, Knox tagged in Kooter, unsure if he had actually made a mistake there or not. Thankfully, on this occasion, it would appear Mr. Knox was in luck as Kooter launched himself from the corner on to one James Varga with a powerful Vader Bomb. The referee dove down the counted the three, giving victory to the super team of Steve Knox and Kooter Michaels-Cruise.
Now, my mind already felt fucked, witnessing a turtle beat up Varga with his shell and I believe Legion was feeling the same way, looking at the scene that unfolded before him in a look of nothing but sheer dumbfoundment. Legion tried to go after the Koopa Troopa for costing him the match, but the Troopa escaped up the entrance.
His escape was short lived however as out from the back came The Codemaster. The Koopa Troopa turned around straight into a kick to the gut from The Codemaster, visor and all. While doubled over in pain, The Codemaster struck the Troopa with a big double stomp, knocking the Troopa out cold in a tightly coiled fetal position.
At this point, a very disgusted Craig Miles appeared once again, instructing security to handcuff the Troopa and escort him backstage. The security team happily obliged Miles' wishes, but honestly, who wouldn't.
I am not making any of this shit up, I swear. Honest to god this actually happened.
The ringside area took a long 10 minutes to clear out the cast of characters involved and just when you thought we were headed towards a little bit more insanity. Teresa Quaranta and her National Championship title belt were informed by Insurgent Security patrol on the STARtron that she’d be defending in a Triple Threat match against CAMERON CRUISE…and PHIL ATKEN.
Winner: KOOTER MICHAELS-CRUISE and STEVE KNOX via pinfall
Just another day at the office for TQ, against Cameron Cruise and a man who came to ringside with his possible midget father and viking mother.
Seriously, she's a viking. Check out the horns.
Someone help me. Please?
By the way, she may weigh at least 275 pounds and has to be about 6’3 inches. Where did they find this woman?
TQ’s distracted by the abominable Viking woman and that opens up Cruise and Atken double - teaming her. Apparently they decided it would be easier to remove her as National Champion if they removed her from the match entirely. It nearly worked, as Atken took her first few shots while Cruise hooked her from behind, and Phil returned the favor.
The two challengers kept the pressure on with a high backdrop and a spinebuster/legdrop combination that nearly put her down for the count. When Cruise picked her up and deposited a pair of elbows into her chin, he set her up for a Total Elimination - style legsweep and kick to the chest.
That's where it all broke down. Cruise went for the cover, and Atken pulled him off. A brief argument broke up when Atken took a swing, only for Cruise to duck the shot, hook him under the arm, and drop him on top of TQ with a uranage. A cover on both opponents nearly yielded a three count, but TQ grabbed the bottom rope.
With the wind sufficiently knocked out of the champion, Cruise turned his attention to Phil Atken, who took a knee to the gut and a DDT, but yielded only two and a half. Atken's standing with the fans was hardly helped by the way Helga shouted at Cruise to leave her boy alone, though Cruise gained a few fans by slapping Atken in the face.
"You can act like a man!" he shouted.
"You tell 'em!" shouted Dickwood, while propositioning some fat guy in a pair of bleach - stained sweatpants for a beer.
Atken stayed by the ropes, looking like he was trying to negotiate with Cruise, all the while the Champ was gathering her wits. Cross - corner whip, and Cruise followed with a clothesline! He climbed up on the second rope, and fired a series of right hands to Atken's head. One, Two, Three, Four, Fiv...
...you get the idea.
Before he could get to ten, he was knocked over.
TQ saw the situation, backed up to the opposite corner, and launched herself at her opponents.
This was a twofold maneuver: she drove her fists in a double axe handle to Cruise's spine, which sent him forward, sending his stomach into Atken's face, snapping HIS head back.
It's a good thing this is BRAWL, because if we had to sit through this getting dissected on a slow - motion instant replay the show would be over.
As TQ landed, she backed off to assess the situation, and Atken grabbed Cruise around the waist and walked him off the middle rope, dropping him to the mat with a vicious slam. He dropped down for the cover, but Teresa pulled him off!
Atken broke her grip with a blind elbow back, after which, he open - hand slapped her across the face. It was enough to stagger her back a step, but she replied with a right hand, and another right hand, and a third, all the while backing him up to the ropes.
That's when he did it.
Atken's hands reached out and grabbed TQ's nipples, and twisted.
The referee looked about as lost as I was, trying to figure out the legalities of this one. Fortunately, we didn't have to wait too long, as TQ broke the hold by kicking him square in the groin.
She stepped back to catch her breath... so to speak... and decided to kick him again. Atken was doubled over, and TQ hooked him around the waist, raised him in the air, and prepared to drop him down with a powerbomb---
---when she suddenly dropped him, somewhat off - center. And, of course, the bell rang.
Because you see, Helga had entered the ring, incensed at the treatment TQ was giving her precious boy. She had shoved TQ in the back and arm hard enough for her to drop Atken to the mat, and Helga continued her attack, punching and flailing her arms about as Teresa was driven into the corner.
The bell continued to ring, and Sims told us that Teresa had been declared the winner via disqualification, which was something of an understatement. Atken was still out on the mat as Dirk Dickwood climbed into the ring, ostensibly to yell at Helga for what she just did.
It was about this point that Cameron Cruise stood up and surveyed the ring.
"Screw this," I heard him say, as he left the ring, disgusted.
TQ tried her best to fight out of the corner, but Helga had too much girth for her to try and move around. She was finally able to duck down and get a shoulder into Helga's chest enough to back her up and duck through the top and middle ropes.
In the ring, the fans were treated to an impromptu family feud, as Helga knelt down to see to her boy, all the while Dickwood yelled at him to stop babying the boy, he'll never grow up to be a man with her constantly smothering him. Et cetera.
Yeah, it's just another night in the NFW.
Winner: Teresa Quaranta via disqualification, retains National Championship
The stage was set and the entire crowd was ready to see Kin Hiroshi and Brock Alyas settle their personal vendetta of late – for the first time. If you caught anything from the Revolutions most recent taping in Nashville – you’d understand the recent but thick hatred these men have developed for each other. Major personality clash but we haven’t come to expect any less in the chaos thus far, have we?
I think they should just duke it out here in Charlotte .
In Nashville, Craig Miles agreed with me.
Kin Hiroshi was first out to the ring to the theme of Adema where he was showered in jeers from the crowd that made him feel right at home. Dressed like he was ready to wrestle, Kin paid little attention to the fans and continued en route to the ring with a little swagger in his step and a short smirk on his face. Maybe that was because a stolen World Heavyweight Championship was around his waist. Hiroshi slid underneath the ropes making his way centre stage before posting up in his corner awaiting his opponent.
And his opponent?
An angry behemoth from South Detroit whose freshly obsessed with taking Mr. Hiroshi out in his own game for causing a loss over Cameron Cruise in Nashville. Payback’s a bitch and you can bet that bitch is on her rag when it’s Alyas’ idea of payback.
Brock made his way to the ring en route to some underground Detroit rap that punished the basslines of the amplifiers and subwoofers hooked up around the set. Unlike his opponent, Brock looked like it was another day in the office, clad in some baggy oversized jean-shorts and a blank white t. Brock received a better reaction of the two as the NFW faithful must have a soft spot for the man whose been making a name for himself and making waves in attempts to avoid the fact that he remains a rookie on this deep NFW roster.
Brock made his way to the ring, eyes locked on his opponent for the evening with the same damn expression he’s had on his face since he made his debut back in late ’07.
But now, Brock had earned himself a bit more credibility, a .800 win-percentage and a bite-size idea of how things work in the Revolution. Brock stepped through the ropes and into his corner still starring daggers through the eyes of Kin Hiroshi who still had a short smirk on his face.
The official made the bout well, official with the sound of the bell and both men made their way to the centre of the ring as an intense staredown took place and exchange of toilet talk from the looks of things.
Action picked up with Hiroshi using a snap-dropkick to the ankles of Alyas that caused him to double over and set Hiroshi up perfectly with a headlock that Alyas would attempt to power out of but instead force him to send Hiroshi into the opposing ropes to come back and be taken off his feet by Kin with a shoulder block.
Hiroshi wasted no time and instead of going for the cover he ducked Alyas who quickly made his way to his feet and missed the Clothesline from Hell attempt that would have knocked Hiroshi senseless had he connected. Hiroshi instead ducked underneath and kept running doing “the Ninth Mile” over with a bulldog that scraped Brock’s face against canvas – something he wasn’t too pleased about.
Hiroshi was rewarded a quick one-two but a three count wouldn’t even be considered at this point in time. Hiroshi kept his distance from the behemoth and the scouting report told him that if you let this guy get up anywhere near you, he may just take your head off with a clothesline.
So Hiroshi let Brock stand to his feet and would attack as soon as he was up. However, Hiroshi wasn’t so lucky this time because the shoulder block was telegraphed by the Detroit Lion and it looked as if Hiroshi shoulder-blocked a brick wall. A quick kick in the gut cause Hiroshi to double-over and a roughhouse swinging neck breaker worked in the favor of Alyas who had the fans on their feet in doing so. However, a two-count was a petty reward at this point.
Alyas took control of the match-up at this point and wore his opponent down with a very clean, unorthodox falcon-arrow set-up turned into seat-out stunner followed swiftly by a release sidewinder that gave Brock only a two-count.
Panic seemed to be attacking Alyas at this point in the match wondering what it would take for him to finish off Hiroshi who was arguably Brock’s toughest task thus far in his short career as a NFW member.
With a look of vengeance still on his face, Brock he wasted no time forcing Hiroshi to his feet and also kept his distance from being punched in the berries… a tactic Brock’s opponents have learned has a high percentage rate of working.
Instead Brock continued to wear Hiroshi down with rights but his final blow took a split second too long and Hiroshi ducked underneath and telegraphed Brock’s attempt to stay on the attack. Hiroshi quickly took the big man over using a backbody drop that we’d be smart to dub as the “HOLY FUCK YOU’RE NECK IS BROKEN Back Body Drop” around here.
Hiroshi took control in the match-up here using quick, smart tactics that kept Alyas off his feet and kept himself out of danger of that home-run like swing in the form of a clothesline. Hiroshi would give Brock just enough time to attempt it and it would throw him off-guard and allow Hiroshi to set up an abundance of maneuvers such as a DDT, Russian Leg Sweep and Swinging Neckbreaker all surprisingly in sequence.
Each time Brock would attempt to bullrush Hiroshi anytime he was anywhere near him while he was on a knee with a clothesline but Hiroshi continued to telegraph his attempts. One of the times stuck out to me when he ducked underneath a clothesline and a short backfist attempt to set up some clean sweet chin music that landed flush on Brock’s jaw putting him on his back.
Still relentless, you could literally see the steam coming out of Brock’s ears as he was being out-smarted here in the ring by a NFW veteran who Brock refused to believe was better than he.
Brock forgot about the clothesline as it was obviously becoming useless and instead used his gridiron tactics and laid Hiroshi out Middle Linebacker style.
Brock harpooned the shit out of his opponent and put him between a ROCK and a HARD place taking him back for a 5 yard loss into the turnbuckle. With the fans on their feet Brock got up with the look of vengeance still in his eyes, stomped mudholes into the head of Hiroshi.
If you thought Hiroshi was the only one who’d been watching tape, Brock began focusing on the previously injured rib-cage of his opponent with the use of a powerbomb, belly to belly overhead release suplex and a sidewinder that would’ve put the average man out of commission and been a perfect set-up for the patented Extra Mile Explodaggggh.
Instead, Brock was rewarded NEARLY a three-count for his troubles and the match continued with the fans reaction to thus bloodshed like a Slipknot mosh-pit.
Alyas sat-up with Hiroshi laid out on his back centre stage and looked out at the fans with a small smile on his face and you could literally see the clockwork in his head asking “what the fuck is it going to take to put this guy out?”
So Alyas decided to think a little hard and when I say a little I mean A LOT because before you know it, Alyas made his way outside the ring and underneath it where he pulled out a nice picnic sized wooden table that would be laid diagonally across a nearby turnbuckle.
Things were destined to get bloody and Hiroshi wasn’t even aware of the fact that a wooden table was set up and his opponent had all intentions on putting him through it – neck first.
Alyas focused his attention back onto Hiroshi who was beginning to shake some of the cobwebs out of his head and slowly beginning to stir. Brock stomped a couple into the cranium of his and Hiroshi must’ve seen the table set-up in the corner of his eye because he fought like a rabid animal to get up and out of Alyas’ reach… sliding out of the ring where fans around ringside were reaching over literally trying to throw sucker punches at the Muffin Man.
And we thought North Carolina was a first-rate state.
Hiroshi was nearly counted out before Brock turned his back to him for a split second after chuckling to himself about Hiroshi’s credibility as a man and you had better believe the Muffin Man tripped him up and slid into the ring quickly to stomp some mudholes into the head of the Extra Mile.
Hiroshi wore Alyas down with some wisely decided technical tactics and every time he’d give a long hard look at that wooden table screaming his name. Hiroshi had a sadistic smile on his face and after executing a quick Reverse DDT, Hiroshi was going to go for it.
With Alyas dazed, Hiroshi positioned himself back to the table and he was going to piledrive Alyas’ head through the wooden table set-up. Sacrificing the amount of splinters that would likely end up in his back, Hiroshi didn’t know what else it would take to put this rather tough rookie out of his misery.
The ever elongated piledriver that Hiroshi slammed Alyas’ dazed head ended up costing him ‘coz they went through that table alright… Brock’s head even possibly landing first.
But instead it would be an Alabama Slam delivered with whiplashing effect on Hiroshi’s neck and back that would render both men unconscious for a solid 15 seconds.
The NFW faithful were eating… the scene… ALIVE. And then coming alive because someone decided it was time to make a visit.
CAMERON CRUISE
Yeah, Cruise sauntered down the aisle fresh of these two trying to send him up the river in Nashville. Without any hesitation or a smile, he grabbed the World Championship off the timeskeeper’s table and decided that he was going to climb onto the apron. The ref immediately cut him off and started trying to reason with Cruise, while behind him…Alyas and Hiroshi were starting to stir themselves up. Alyas is up first and goes for a leaping kneestrike, but Hiroshi moves and Alyas slams into the back of the referee. The ref collides with Cruise and goes down, Alyas tries to grab Cruise but gets rolled up by Hiroshi with a hook of the tights.
NO REF.
Hiroshi gets up, sees Cruise holding his title and freaks the hell out. He screams and charges at Cruise who absolutely WAFFLES him with the title belt, shocking the crowd! Wildstar nearly leaps out of his seat, while Calamity just MARKS.
Cruise stares down at Hiroshi, not even paying attention to Alyas who gets up and looks at the scene in slight surprise.. Cruise hops off the apron, puts the title belt OVER his shoulder as Alyas drops down on Hiroshi.
UNO.
DOS.
TRES.
Without even waiting to get his hand raised, Alyas is OUT of the ring – the crowd freaks as he tackles Cruise from behind. We’ve got a donnybrook going through the stadium walkway into the backstage area, where they’re knocking over tables. Keep in mind, there’s no dressing rooms folks. Ever since the freaking Koopa showed up, everyone’s on edge and on free-roam snipe patrol. So as we’ve got several wrestlers trying to stop Alyas and Cruise from destroying the free deli platters, Hiroshi stumbles into the scene.
CHAIRSHOT.
Alyas goes down from the seatbreaking headshot courtesy of Kin. Cruise gets up and backs off, Hiroshi picks up the World Championship belt. Looks to the left, looks to the right…drops the chair and runs.
Not surprisingly as we go to break, Craig Miles has added Hiroshi, Cruise and the Devil’s Rejects to the Stampede. Brock Alyas is spared…for once.
Winner: Brock Alyas
The next series of events shouldn’t be remember for what’s happened, but what may become. Scheduled for this slot in the setlist was DC Stratton vs. Blaine Hollywood, but that’s not exactly what DC came to receive after he came out alone to his music. Billed as a ‘no holds barred, grudge match,’ Charlotte was literally frothing at the mouth to see some old-school street justice dispensed upon the Oxonian of Bel Air.
Except…
…there was no Betty Boop laugh.
There was a man in a navy suit, carrying a briefcase and wearing J. Edgar Hoover spectacles. Apparently, where there is Carlton Trusts there is…
”Mr. Middle Management” Mike McGee.
Apparently, he’s moved on from his previous Charlotte endeavors and is here tonight to represent Blaine Hollywood and Carlton Trusts. In fact, McGee goes onto explain to a seething DC Stratton that Blaine Hollywood isn’t even in the city limits due to the fact that he’s protesting the idea of wrestling outside in a rancid, cow-manure fuming city that could possibly stricken him with an airborne disease. With such deplorable conditions and Blaine’s refusal to wrestle in a no-holds bar environment, Mike McGee sternly informs that DC Stratton will not be wrestling tonight and will be contacted at a later date regarding possible litigation regarding Blaine’s legal restitutions.
McGee hands Stratton his business card, nods his head and leaves DC with the mic as he turns to exit the ring.
Um.
No.
Stratton pulls McGee around and says deadpan into the mic, “Neither of us are leaving this ring, until Blaine gets here.” Micshot to the face follows with McGee nearly falling over, Stratton keeping him standing by yanking on his tie. Now, he’s just choking the crap out of him, when we hit a hard left turn in the proceedings.
Using the tie to pull McGree, Stratton starts pummeling and pulverizing the guy’s face with kneestrike upon kneestrike upon kneestrike. McGee’s nose sprays blood around shot…SIXTEEN as the crowd freaks the hell out ‘cause Stratton’s lost his mind and just screams out Blaine’s name.
You think the mercy call is in as Stratton stops…he paces around the ring, Charlotte buzzing. Stratton picks up the mic, “Get out here, Blaine…or I’m going to break this fool’s neck!” Stratton blasts McGee in the head with the mic, reels him up…
PACKAGE PILEDRIVER.
McGee’s body is on the fritz, fans are cupping their mouths as Stratton goes for another…
AND HITS IT.
Here comes Insurgent Patrol and Stratton flies out of the ring, taking out four of them with a SUICIDE SENTON. Stratton gets up…starts going back towards the ring, but that’s when none other than…
MALIK ANDERSON grabs Stratton from behind by the hair and uses the momentum to send him barreling shoulderfirst into the ringpost. Stratton goes down quick, the arm and shoulder already taped up from his Crash 45 suicidal antics. Anderson quickly takes him into the ring, sends him off the ropes and goes for the SPINEBUSTAAHHHHHHHHH….
…NO.
Stratton’s headbutting, firing punches and converts the reversal into a Lou Thesz mounting and smackdown on the shocked Anderson who covers up with his arms as…
BLAINE. OXFORD ROWING OAR.
…
THWACK!
The baseball swing gets a complete shattering effect courtesy of Stratton’s skull as the crowd loses its freaking mind and starts tossing everything into the ring. Now, Calvin Carlton’s running down and sliding in with his tennis racket.
Did we mention that NEITHER Rayne or Tsunami were in Charlotte tonight?
No?
Well, Wildstar has about thirty-seven times right now to Sean Toombs.
Blaine Hollywood grabs the microphone as a beaten down Stratton is forced to look up at him from his knees. And I quote the Oxonian:
“Did you really think I would waste my breath in this pig-farmer abode of an outdoor stadium? In fact…”
Blaine turns to the crowd.
“None of you even deserve to hear me SPEAK.”
Blaine drops the mic.
The crowd boos.
The smark in you boos.
Trix are for Heels!
Of course, these particular heels are not your average heels. Malik picks up Stratton reels him with the injured shoulder – ARMBREAKER DDT. He holds out Stratton’s arm, while Blaine starts overhead axe-chopping Stratton’s arm with the oar. Not satisfied with just that sort of exposition, Calvin Carlton decided to bring a steel chair into the proceedings. Anderson’s locked Stratton into a Fujiwara, which gets enough screamed obscenities to make some good Baptists faint nearby.
Blaine heads to the top, ladies and gentlemen.
Carlton locks the chair around Stratton’s shoulder as Malik keeps him in place…Malik holds Stratton’s outstretched arm down, Blaine flies off…DIVING ELBOW DROP TO THE SHOULDER. Stratton’s shoulder is DONE. BUSTED. Security finally comes out, but the HWC know the damage is done. They don’t even stay around for McGee to get taken away on a stretcher. Stratton walks back on his own in extreme pain, held up by medical personnel.
Winner: No Match, No-Contest aka “IT’S A TRAP!” – Calamari Star Wars Dude
Hour #3 in Charlotte, the crowd still a little blazed over the heel copout by the HWC. Wildstar starts calling out Miles AND Mayfield, saying that the Hollywood Wrecking Crew need to be held accountable for their contractual obligations.
With that exposition, Wildstar finds his Inner Buddha and moves on. Calamity mentions he’s thinking about starting up a boobshot website for NFW, but Toombs remarks that nobody likes photoshopping wrinkled tits.
Um.
Gross, Sean…gross.
On that note, Lord Coynard Pollard walks out. I bet if Felix Red were British, he’d call Pollard a “wrinkled tit,” but Felix Red is from around Boston, Massachusetts which means he’s going to fit really into the southern aesthetics. Judging by some in the crowd, they were put off by both characters…but obviously, NOBODY LIKES A SNOTTY BRIT – C’MON.
The crowd’s behind Felix as we get set to take it down the homestretch with two Grand Prix matches and a crazy Koopa Stampede. (really? We won’t cancel this?)
Bell rings and we’re off, Pollard quickly wrenching in the side headlock advantage off the initial lock-up. Felix pushes him off, Pollard ducks under a spin kick on one side and gets caught in a Japanese Armdrag on the other. We get a couple of similar runs as Felix uses his aerial array to his advantage. Pollard constantly moving, turning and going against the grain of his ground game. Felix nails a spinning leg lariat, a couple of dropkicks and completes the first frame with a lunging thrust kick to the chest that knocks Pollard out of the ring.
Jeeves tries to help his master get his bearings, but they’re interrupted by Felix sliding out of the ring. Felix rams Pollard into the barricade, but this is where things start getting weird as the referee immediately warns Felix than any use of a FOREIGN OBJECT against an opponent is grounds for Diplomatic Immunity Disqualification. Using outside structures and objects are both illegal.
Felix is forced to take it back in the ring. Goes for the missile dropkick off the top, but Pollard moves out of Buckingham Square. Back Suplex puts the English Channel back on tide patrol, Pollard starts attacking the upper back and neck area with stomps…a few shots at the head interspersed to keep the resourceful Felix down on the mat.
Pollard hits a nasty clothesline, followed by a Reverse Neckbreaker. Pollard hits a beauty of a delayed vertical suplex with a rollover – UNO.DOS.TR—NO. Felix kicks out, Pollard starts choking him and the referee starts counting immediately. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Pollard lifts up the gasping Felix bulls him into the corner and cracks a kneelift. Forearm uppercut. Rinse. Repeat. Slap to the face, English Whip across the ring and an Avalanche Back Elbow Smash right into Felix’s jaw. Red teeters around, Pollard takes him down with a Side British Legsweep Facebuster. UNO. DOS. No dice and Pollard decides to go for a standing headscissors, but gets flipped over by Felix. Pollard scrambles up and Felix hits a blindly charged-up running kneestrike that connects with Pollard’s chest. Felix wearily swings some reverse knife edges that back Pollard into the corner.
Pollard pleads and buries a knee into Felix’s gut as he comes in close. Turns around the proceedings, but gets his English Whip across the ring reversed into a Boston Irish one that sends him chestfirst into the buckles and backpedaling into a Dragon Suplex and two count from Felix. After that, both were down and out for nearly the standing ten-count…but Felix gets up first and hits a Hurricanrana that sends Pollard rolling out of the ring.
Felix connects with a suicide plancha, but again the ref is forcing him to put it back in the ring. Felix goes back to the top, but Jeeves pulls on the ropes causing Red to crotch himself on the turnbuckles. Pollard uses the advantage for a top rope superplex, but can only get the two count. Pollard hooks in an STS, but after a long crawl…Felix forces the break.
Pollard hits a half-nelson Suplex, but can’t get the three count again. As he sets up for the infamous Boleyn Driver, Felix somehow slips out the backdoor and takes down Pollard with a Snap DDT. Felix made his way up slowly towards the turnbuckles, Jeeves tried to pull him off and took a kick to the head. FLYING CROSSBODY PRESS…and Pollard pulled the ref in for a nice sandwiching moment, which staved off the attempted Felix Red pin attempt after a nasty Enziguiri following that up.
Jeeves now entered the ring with a chair, attempting to strike Felix’s skull and he did. Except, he’s skinny and a bit of a ninny…so yeah, that didn’t work that well. Felix yanked the chair out of his hands, but noticed the ref coming to…
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
Red pulverized his OWN head with the chair. As he staggered around the ring, Pollard stood shakily up as Jeeves looked on at the bleeding Red (ha! secret wordplay!) in horror. As Felix fell to the mat, he tossed the chair and Pollard caught it in abhor…which turned to livid anger as the referee started ringing for the bell…DISQUALIFYING HIM.
Apparently, diplomatic immunity came back to bite the Lord in the butt…or so you would think. As Felix Red escaped up the stadium walkway, Eddie Mayfield aka El Presidente came on full-screen on the STARtron flanked by Cojones Mercado glowering as usual.
Mayfield lit up his cigar and congratulated Felix Red on exposing the laws of diplomatic immunity. He would indeed uphold Felix’s two points. In the ring, Pollard and Jeeves looked angrily at each other. Mayfield then also noted that Lord Coyner Pollard would earn ONE point for the dishonorable and cheap actions taken by Felix Red in this Grand Prix. The crowd was livid, Pollard smirked and nodded in approval…then slapped Jeeves in the back of the head for all the mistakes made in the match.
Winner: Felix Red via disqualification, Lord Coyner Pollard awarded one point for diplomatic immunity principles regarding dishonorable heel tactics taken against a Lord. …got that? Good.
The real question isn’t whether this or did or didn’t happen. Its whether or not I could consume the amount of drugs necessary to properly recap this match. Well, we’ll see won’t we. First of all, we’ve got a chicken wire cage with a dude in a koopa suit hanging from a hook. If you could only witness the construction crane used for this, you’d understand how the Demolition Derby was even remotely believable.
There were these ways to get eliminated: Leave the cage, get pinned, tap out or fail to answer a standing 10-count. Four referees and hordes of Insurgent Security Patrol surrounded the ringside. Eliminations would only begin when the Koopa was unhooked.
Oh yeah, B.Y.O.B. rules were in effect aka Bring Your Own Blank. Which really means, we may see the use of a soldering iron, we may see the use of a weedwhacker…we really don’t know.
The Freaks in this thing
The Devil’s Rejects (Luci4/Legion): All-black attire, strapped with magazines holstering different types of scissors.
Kin Hiroshi: black t-shirt, cargo pants. Did not bring the World Championship, but did carry a large trashbag to the ring.
Steve Knox: T-shirt that read "AWESOME PERSONFIEID" on the front and "STEVE KNOX: ROCKING NFW WITH HIS AWESOME" on the back, and a pair of jeans and work boots. Basically, he comes looking like he's involved in a street fight. Oh yeah, he’s bringing down a freaking steel pipe. Joe the Plumber, take notice.
Codemaster: Master Chief plated uniform, burnt Megaton Hammer strapped to his back along with other ‘weapons’ that looked highly suspicious.
Craig Miles: No shirt (classy), jeans, workman’s belt with more pyrotechnic gadgets than a pyromaniac Batman birthed son with a menstruating Jean Grey as the mother, steel-tipped boots.
Phil Atken: Oversized Viking’s uniform most likely donated from his possible mother, although we’re glad it wasn’t from his possible father. The helmet is so large its covering his whole head and he’s walking around blindly. If that’s a real sword, this place has lost its mind.
Cameron Cruise: Work overalls, t-shirt, construction boots.
Koopa: Some idiot in a suit, hanging on a hook.
The bell rang.
Steve Knox gulped. Cameron Cruise for once seemed unfazed in this atmosphere, almost as if he expected it. Kin Hiroshi looked around shiftily, snickering slightly. Craig Miles lit a cigarette. Phil Atken asked the guy next to him what’s going on. Legion answered, “You’re bleeding.”
“I am?”
Knee to the gut, Devil’s Reject Double DDT!
The next 10 minutes came and went with a lot of punches, kicks, cage rakings, scissor stabs, hammer shots (Cruise’s overalls hid objects), flying fireballs, Megaton Hammer shots, Atken’s sword was plastic and useless…a spear from Cruise sent his helmet flying, so he could at least see. Kin’s bag contained frying pans, glass pitchers, used silverware – Craig Miles recognized it as the VIP Backstage Kegger appetizer section.
Luci4 unhooked Koopa the old-fashioned way, leaping off the cage into a leglock around his waist…their weight and momentum getting him off. Koopa got up a house afire, spinning around and knocking over people with his suit’s plastic shell. Until Codemaster and Craig Miles hit a Double Elimination on him. Codemaster hit a double stomp onto the shell, then Miles hit a sliding dropkick into the balled up Koopa who managed to trip up the Devil’s Rejects and Phil Atken after barreling into their feet.
Koopa staggered up in a backpedal – Codemaster picked it up in a Burning Hammer, Miles grabbed in a Snap Mare Headlock – SPIKE MEGATON HAMMAHHHHHHHHH! Miles and Codemaster held down the Koopa as security separated for a greasy, fat, hairy freak named…
CHESTER CHEESEBURGER
Miles shouted at Chester to climb the cage.
Yes, apparently Craig Miles PLANNED this out.
The Mexican 300 pounder hit the world’s squishiest SPLASH. The shell POPPED. IT FREAKING POPPED. And thus, the Koopa was eliminated. As Cheeseburger left the cage, Codemaster and Craig Miles exited as well…their job done.
ELIMINATED: #9 Koopa via …SHELL POPPAGE. #8/#7 THE FIREFLOWERS (Miles/Codemaster)
Blood really started to flow at this point. Atken totally got cut up by Legion and surived about twenty different near pinfalls in the process. He was finally put out by a Demolition Derby Elbow Drop courtesy of the Devil’s Rejects.
Eliminated: #6 Phil Atken
Of course, at this point – HELGA kicks open the cage door. KICKED THE MOTHERFUNKIN’ THING OFF ITS HINGES.
Steve Knox turns around after Inverted Atomic Dropping Kin Hiroshi and finds himself wrapped around the throat. CHOKESLAM.
And she just happened to plant him on a pile of tacks. Knox shoots to his feet, out of sheer hatred violently cracks Helga in the head with a right hand.
NO EFFECT.
Steve Knox promptly blinks as Helga’s cheeks start puffing.
He starts backpedaling and the Devil’s Rejects attack Helga from behind with a flurry of forearm smashes. Helga turns around.
DOUBLE CHOKESLAM.
Cruise at this point sits on the turnbuckles, while Kin screams at him to help as Helga turns her attention towards him. Kin charges.
CHOKESLAM.
The crowd is in complete shock. Helga’s going back after Knox, who starts climbing the cage. Helga can’t reach him as he starts playing Spider Man to her Norse Kong Woman. Helga starts climbing up, the cage swaying from her violent moving girth. Oh lookit – this Cameron Cruise isn’t moving, just shaking his head…as the Devil’s Reject start climbing up on opposite sides of the Steve/Helga. Luci4 and Legion, also much quicker…get to standing positions and crouch. Helga gets hold of Steve and starts trying to toss him over the side, but Luci4 leaps onto her back and starts going for a sleeper. Legion goes COMPLETELY INSANE.
HEADSCISSORS STYLE.
Knox holds onto the cage and tries to position Legion outside of it…Cruise and Hiroshi…
VETERANS from their Ultratitle days have both suffered horrible injuries in such matches known as the NFW Northern Conference Insane Asylum Cage Regular Season finale or who could forget the HULK-A-THON match from Season 2.
In fact, the one thing both learned horribly was to NEVER…EVER…get tangled up on that cage.
Both rushed in, got underneath the piles and pushed up.
And pushed OVER.
CRACK! BLAM! BOOM!
Two tables shatter with bodies everywhere outside the ring. We’ve got a six-car pileup right in the middle of Indian burial ground.
ELIMINATED: #5 Steve Knox, #4/#3 The Devil’s Rejects and a vengeful Helga
So, it came down to Cruise and Hiroshi.
They met in the middle of the ring, Hiroshi extended his hand for a show of honor from Cruise. Cruise extended his hand, then snuck around Hiroshi and all of a sudden had a wet rag over Hiroshi’s face!
CRUISE WITH THE HEEL MASTERMIND MOVE OF THE NIGHT!? WHAT!?
Eliminated: #2 Kin Hiroshi via Cruise Chloroform
ITS RAINING CATS AND DOGS, PEOPLE.
AVERT THE HELLFIRE THAT HAS COMETH!
…yet…
As if the whole thing’s a joke, Cruise doesn’t even stick around to get his hand raised. He wins with the standing ten-count, leaving Hiroshi on the ground with the rag. Ironically, the towel reads “MM” on the side and has a muffin logo…so we can only assume that Cruise played some artistry of stolen materials.
He gets stopped by Calamity trying to find out what he thinks about winning the “Koopa Match.”
Cruise looks at Calamity, spits on the ground and walks away. Way to satisfy those hometown fans, Cameron! …oh wait, you didn’t even acknowledge them. …man, what’s next? Kansas believing in evolution?
Your “Winner” Cameron Cruise
The Marathon Man.
Ze Curious One.
Two temporal dynamics on the edges of a the wrestling spectrum universe. Each geared and wound to operated in completely opposing manners and mechanistic principles.
The Not-So-Good Doctor.
The Kid.
Impulse and Curiosity lasted long enough in the respective Wrestlestock 2 TV Title Royale and Grand-Prix Qualifer Gauntlet that everyone knew that every second would be a precious commodity for each wrestler.
The main event held interest, it held a prior palatable appetizer earlier in the night and it would provide one interesting dynamic and conclusion to this nearly 4-hour Brawl in the heart of Charlotte. After the introductions, the NFW howls echoed in American Legion and we were off very quickly after the bell.
Headlock counted into a hammer throw, which had Curiosity leaping over Impulse getting prone on the mat and caught with a lightning-fast Hurricanrana that turned into a tights-pulling Sunset Flip pin for Curiosity!
UNO!DOS!TRES-NO! Impulse kicked violently, shooting out like a cannonball onto his feet and grabbing Curiosity’s legs for a quickly countering Jack-Knife pin. UNO!DOS!TR-BRIDGE! Ok, an ATTEMPTED bridge, which failed. UNO!DOS!TR—NOPE. Curiosity squirts out and shoots to his feet into an armdrag. He gets up too fast for his own brain to handle, spinning in a stagger right into another armdrag. And another. And another. And another
…And another.
…And another.
Impulse has to stop from being too tired for another, Curiosity faceflops onto the mat which sends him jerkily out of the ring…where he walks around in a circle before a second faceflop. Eegor tries to shake him up, but its too late as Impulse slides out of the ring. Eegor wants no part of him and the Marathon Man grabs Curiosity, rams him into the steel post and tosses him back in the ring. SLINGSHOT DROPKICK. Rolling Thunder Splash! Impulse covers for a near-pin, quickly vaults onto the apron and scales the turnbuckles.
Curiosity dodges out of the way, Impulse lands on his feet and turns around to Curiosity taking a powder and clipping out the legs of Impulse. If there’s one thing Doc understands…is doing anything to exploit a wrestler’s weakness. He’s specializes in curiously nefarious ones such as that and the ensuing swings with Impulse’s knee into the ringpost that followed. One tug later and Impulse learned the effects of mass x acceleration x ringpost on yer nuts = forcing throw-up into the mouth.
Quite the Physics lesson mid-match. Doc pulled Impulse out of the ring, lifted him up for a Kneebreaker and then went for a rinse, repeat and much more devious dropping of Impulse’s knee onto the steel barricade. Curiosity smiled, clapped his hands over a job well done and rolled back into the ring.
Expecting the countout victory imminently, the Not-So-Good Doctor saluted and bowed to the crowd. Yet, Impulse dragged himself up via the apron and climbed up around the 13-count which signified his luck on the Doctor coming over immediately with a running kneesmash that sent him flying back off the apron. Curiosity yelled for Eegor to hold him up against the barricade as the Doc climbed up to the top turnbuckle.
DOUBLE AXEHANDLE TO THE BARRICADE.
Yeah, but…Impulse wasn’t there, so that also meant Doc’s ribs probably just cracked in half. Now, we’re on the possibility that neither man is making the count of twenty. And around the half-way mark of the twenty-count that’s becoming a stark reality ‘cause neither has moved. But you know who IS moving?
HIGH FLYER.
The crowd gives a mixed reaction as Harmen runs down to the ringside area with a slightly askew smile that doesn’t suggest malice, but it may imply sly circumstances. Flyer first grabs Curiosity, the crowd buzzing louder knowing the history. He rolls him back into the ring, the crowd now wondering if he wants payback for losing to Impulse.
Flyer, almost affectionately gives him a big ‘ol slap on the back and rolls him back in the ring. Flyer starts clapping and trying to fire up the crowd at ringside and people are somewhat suspicious, but it catches on as Harmen starts singing some made-up Hootenanny about a Marathon Man out to Gut a German.
Speaking about such matters. Stomachbreaker delivered by Impulse. He holds on delivers another wearily before dropping Curiosity to the mat, attacking the zone where the Nefarious One smashed his body against the barricade. Impulse hits a double stomp to the ribs, followed by a standing Moonsault Splash. UNO!DOS!TR—No. Curiosity fights out and tries to stand up, but Impulse locks him into a Reverse Chinlock. Curiosity fights up to a standing position, picks up Impulse and drops him in a Back Suplex…only Impulse keeps the headlock locked in, rolling onto his side. Curiosity rolls him over into a pinning predicament – UNO!DOS!TR-no.
Impulse gets out with the headlock still cinched. Doc uses the tights to roll him up! UNO!DOS! Flyer gets the ref to see the tights and he stops counting, so Impulse is able to get the headlock back to a seated position. Doc gets up frustratedly and picks up Impulse for a Back Suplex – NO!
…Crotchshot.
Damn Germans.
Everyone’s groaning. Curiosity starts shaking the ropes ‘causing further damage. The ref pushes Curiosity back, Eegor hops onto the apron and starts shaking the ropes, but Flyer pulls him off and causes him to crash through the Japanese broadcast table – Paul Shiro screamed Banzai, that’s just awful.
Impulse climbs back into the ring shakily, gets taken down by the legs…and Curiosity locks in a Bavarian (Indian) Deathlock. Impulse immediately crawls to the ropes, forcing a break and High Flyer continues to be Impulse’s cheering section. Impulse tries to pull himself up via the ropes, but Curiosity kicking away at his legs doesn’t help him in any which way. Doc grabs Impulse by the leg and pulls him off, ducks under an Enziguri and turns Impulse into a Ottoman (Scorpion) Deathlock.
This one’s cinched in the middle of the ring, Impulse has to push himself up and hand-walk himself to the ropes, which takes just about everything out of him as he collapses upon completing the feat. Curiosity puts Impulse leg on the bottom ropes, kneedrops ensue. Impulse pulls himself out of the ring, Curiosity follows out and Flyer immediately comes over. Curiosity gets right back in the ring, looking pissed off. Flyer helps get Impulse back in the ring, the Marathon Man needing the ropes to pull himself up…Curiosity blitzkriegs him from behind with a chopblock. Curiosity grabs Impulse by the mask and rolls him up with a yank of the tights.
UNO.DOS.TR—NO. Impulse barely kicks out on time as the ref has to get Flyer off the apron, screaming about Curiosity cheating. Curiosity gets in his face, Impulse rolls him up but gets a delay on the pin count ‘cause the ref is dealing with Flyer…naturally, Harmen is screaming at the ref to make the pin count.
UNO!DOS!NO. Curiosity gets out, but caught with a desperate forearm uppercut from Impulse. The smack on the jaw sends the Doctor into the corner in a daze, Impulse hobbles in and climbs up the turnbuckles.
UNO! DOS! TRES! CUATRO! CINCO! SEIS! DO YOU HATE THIS!?
Ruh-oh. Doc counters with an Inverted Atomic Drop! Double Leg Takedown! Curiosity pushes himself into a Jacknife Powerbombish pin, his feet on the middle turnbuckles! UNO!DOS! FLYER KNOCKS DOC’S FEET OFF! IMPULSE KICKS OUT!
Curiosity’s livid. He’s on the ropes, reaching for Flyer and Impulse reels him in a somersaulting Oklahoma Roll! UNO! DOS! Doc pulls the tights and reverses it! UNO!DOS! NO! Impulse kicks Curiosity away and he stumbles right into a chairshot from Flyer on the opposite side! The ref caught up with Impulse on the mat, doesn’t see it…Curiosity’s out of it! Impulse groggily crawls over and goes for the pin.
UNO! Curiosity’s foot on the rope, Flyer knocks it off! DOS! Flyer swats it again! TR—NO! Curiosity gets a shoulder up and Flyer’s freaking out now. Both LEGAL wrestling participants get up and double clothesline each other, which causes Flyer to fall to his knees and scream “WRESTLING GODS, WHY DO YOU SLAY MY HEART!?”
The referee starts a standing ten-count, the crowd’s freaking out for various reasons I’m not going to consciously release to you at this point…but if you’re smart, its creeping upon you. Both wrestlers barely beat the count, staggering into each other…Curiosity with a small package! UNO!DOS!Impulse reversal! UNO!DOS!Doc with the tights reversal! UNO!DOS!Impulse kickout! They both get up dizzily, Impulse fires a kick to the gut and Doc catches his foot, but he’s too tired to react to the Enziguiri counter this time!
Impulse limps up, heads onto the apron – SLINGSHOT 180 LEGDROP! The thigh crashes across the back of Curiosity’s head, crossing his eyes. Impulse rolls him over…UNO!DOS!TR—No. Impulse can’t believe it, the crowd is in a frenzy.
Impulse looks to bring up Curiosity, but is greeted by a swiftly nefarious uppercut right into his neither regions. Impulse staggers away, trying his hardest not to fall to the mat for the fear of how hard it would be to stand on that leg again…
So, he collapses to one knee. Curiosity races off the ropes and goes for the Schroding—NO! The Shining Wizard is averted and Impulse has Doc’s foot, stands up and hooks in an Ankle Lock! Curiosity’s too close to the ropes, but Flyer screams at the ref because of Eegor getting on the apron…which he WAS, but that doesn’t matter ‘cause as Curiosity is reaching the ropes…
Flyer gives him a two-finger poke to the eye, Curiosity loses his grip on the ropes and Impulse desperately drags him to the center the ring. With a sudden drop to the mat, Impulse has his legs locked around Curiosity’s while wrenching the Ankle Lock even deeper…
And that’s when the crowd screamed. That’s when the panicked. A Whole Stadium vs. Doctor Curiosity as what had always creeped upon us chimed in our sunken souls as it always does.
TIME.
30 minutes.
Flyer dropped to his knees in emotional weariness, while Impulse and Curiosity laid tangled on the mat. Their reputations preceding the obvious odds no matter the facilitations that Jack Harmen tried to shift.
Which is precisely why Craig Miles had walked out flanked by Insurgent Security and Cojones Mercado. Flyer immediately stood up and rolled into the ring, a smirk on his face as he stood in the corner behind a tired and confused Impulse. Curiosity was being tended to by the ref as well as the Insurgents when instructed to do so by Miles.
The boss grabbed the mic, smiled at Jack and pointed.
“I had a feeling you may let yourself become the first offender of the Grand Prix, Jack. I also seen that you are not entitling Doctor Curiosity, my friend and COLLEAGUE to a FAIR and JUST match.”
This got the crowd booing.
“This will now affect your match for the Grand Prix at Crash 46…which you have willingly helped me EVEN out against your own and your GROUP’s favor.”
Oh dear god.
“You see Group A – yourself, Simply Beautiful Impulse, Felix Red, and Lord Coyner Pollard with DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY on your side will face…”
“GROUP B in a FIVE-on-FIVE elimination tag team match.”
Oh double dear god.
“That’s SARS, Professor Tremendous, Digital Mortality, the Illustrious FaceEater and Doctor Curiosity and the CURIOUS RULEBOOK given to them in lieu of your actions tonight…on THEIR side.” Flyer’s smile faded into shock.
Forget the “Five More Minutes” chant you thought would end this night. That alone was enough to get everyone riled up in a completely different and certainly anticipated direction.
“Two points per elimination. Five points to the man that gets the last pinfall.”
And that is what we call a “TEASE” as that ended the show. The stadium lights turned on, Hendrix played and the NFW Street Team had a lot of cleaning up to do.
Winner: 30-minute Draw``xEkEZZlVEuEOXwtqGVu``x1217777941``xNFWBrawl``x11911185844879``x``xCharlotte, NC``xJuly 27, 2008``xwww.nfw.fwrestling.com/cnews/EkEZZlVEuEOX.shtml``x``x``x``x``x``x
NFW Brawl``xNFW``xThere was a time when I thought I should be doing something important with my life. Learning the judicial loopholes and tax laws, so I could pad myself with a large six-figure bank account and hopefully marry a woman with the lack of integrity to accept a boob job by age 35.
Now, I’m twisted and ragged. Drugged out and spastic. Miles calls me “Wahoo,” and I don’t understand why. He says that when alternate universes are colliding with my pupils with the frantic pace of a cracked-out chimpanzee f*cking the essence of vulva that I’ll understand why.
I think he’s lying, I think I’m Edward McDaniel and I think we arrived at Nashville at 3:30 in the morning so the Intern Staff could get in a huge spliff session before setting up the arena atmosphere. Nets hanging everywhere in the rafters, Christmas lights wrapped around every inch of twine. …yeah, how won’t that light on fire later?
ANYWAY. Do you are about this more than the 10 matches?
…ok, nobody answer that.
Instead we’re dialed into channel 420 on Sirius backstage just as Tommy Parsons and the Tupelo Omelette Hash Sextet crackle to life with “Funky Griddlecakes.” Wildstar’s doing the worst country twang I’ve heard out of Philadelphia since Allen Iverson’s little-known duet with Toby Keith entitled “American Soldiers don’t need Practice.”
Speaking of non-practitioners within their current field, Calamity’s yelling at Wildstar for the awful impression while stating that he’s very happy to be in the motherland of all things Whiskey. Toombs states that he got in town early to score some Murfreesboro Moonrock, which I’m just going to assume are what he just said are also rolled in blunts. Something about visiting Nova’s burnt down cabin in the woods.
Quick rundown for the uninitiated, living-under-the-rock type NFW fans that are reading this and saying “W-T-F.” We’re in Nashville, we’ve got 5 Grand Prix matches (DON’T ASK) 5 random, unannounced matches and not to worry…
…we still like to blow up things.
Wildstar’s cruiserweight soliloquy is all of a sudden broken up by none other than…
Kin Hiroshi.
You can feel the love in the air.
…and the beer.
…and the trash.
Kin makes it all better by opening up tonight’s monologue with “YOU ALL LOST THE WAR. Now, someone retrieve my belt from the office of Craig Miles, so we can continue this show properly.”
Kin starts walking towards the ring, the janitors cursing every step. He taps his foot, while waiting in the ring for a nice, hot minute and then…
WHOOSH.
That’s the sound of fire, if you order NFW Crash TV transcripts from some dweeb on the internet. And it also marks the entrance of Craig Miles in full Generalissimo regalia. Flanked by Cojones Mercado and the NFW Insurgent Firing Squad, the owner of NFW enters and takes in Hiroshi’s presence for a moment. While he lights up a cigarette, Kin uses the mic to let Miles know that while he does deserve the highest ranking official delivering him back his title…there’s no title and that means Kin isn’t leaving.
Miles asks for the mic. Kin refuses. (Kin may be smarter than we all think.)
Miles asks again, Kin shakes his head like a child.
Miles mouths “Do you want the belt back?” and Kin all too eagerly hands the mic and starts taking off his jacket, shirt…starts applying some shiny lotion to his waist…ok, I’m lying about that. …or am I?
Miles repeats the question somewhat differently, “So, you want the belt back…” and then starts laughing, which causes Kin to lose his smile. Miles riffs on Hiroshi being injured for so long that even if his story were to play out in any fashion, he had the right to strip him of the belt long ago for not defending it.
Crowd pop. Hiroshi snatches the mic back and screams that Joe the Plumber hasn’t defended the Television Title since Wrestlestock Two, so that means Miles is protecting Nova and not ready to have him face the greatest wrestler in the world. Kin shoves the microphone in Miles’ chest, raises his arms in victory and climbs the turnbuckles.
Low-rumbling, nihilistic laughter from Miles…I’m sort of happy that someone’s experiencing the same thing I have at 3:33 AM every day for the last month. Kin tries to remain strong, but gets thrown for a loop by Miles saying “Fine, Kin…I’m going to give you what you really want right now.”
Kin hops off the buckles, smiling again…
“You’ll wrestle Nova tonight in a NON-TITLE match. You were the worst excuse for a World Heavyweight WRESTLING Champion when you had your memory last intact, so let’s just say I don’t think you’ve got it.”
Awww, the crowd roared. Go them.
“And then, I’m going to make Joe the Plumber defend the Television Championship…”
Oh crap.
“…AGAINST YOU AT CRASH 46…”
Oh god.
“And the WINNER can face NOVA at SUPERCRASH TWO.”
Oh sweet monkey jesus fucknut butter of my mouth! Hiroshi’s going “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” to Miles and before he gets out of the jam, we’ve got much BIGGER problems.
BROCK ALYAS.
The NINTH MILE of problems, the NINTH MILE inside your mom’s vaginal squeezebox. New song accompaniment that will never find its way on Craig Miles’ boombox either. He’s storming to the ring, talking to himself and shaking his head. He barrels into the ring, straight for Miles and nearly brushing Hiroshi aside who’s now completely aghast in offence.
Alyas starts screaming that he’s got a title shot at ANYONE including Joe or Nova and there’s no way that a punk like Hiroshi who’s been gone since the Revolution’s STARTED should be around to cherry-pick his opportunities.
Miles asks him if he’s mad. Alyas is like FUCK YEAH! (not really)
Miles looks at the both of them and smiles, which can’t be good.
“FINE. You got him in CHARLOTTE.”
The crowd is all F-T-W and junk, Alyas starts nodding and looking at Hiroshi who’s looking at him, then Miles and back to Brock…Miles rolls out of the ring, Kin lunges to try and stop him from leaving and Brock immediately starts hammering away with right hands! Hiroshi dives out of the ring, eyes bulging until a waft of smoke hits him in the face. He turns around, face-to-face with Miles…
“Welcome back, you’ll be fine.”
“WHAT!?!?”
“C’mon man…did you forget?”
“FORGET WHAT!?!”
“This is N-F’N-W, which means I’m the fuckin’ boss and Kin Hiroshi won’t die.”
Kin gulped as security led him back with Miles and just like that the Nashville show had officially hit the round running, gunning and Kin Hiroshi strapped to the engine hood.
Ringside workers started getting in official position around the ring as Wildstar made sure to note some industry cruiserweight heavyweights, if you get my drift. Nathan Storm of the Diamond Exchange was included on the list…now making it two or three shows he’s been at. Meanwhile, Bret Kelly…the man, the myth, the jobber…sauntered down the aisle to no reaction at all from the crowd. I swear to god, his hair is greasier than a pig’s anus after eating a tub of Crisco.
Next out was David Noble, who didn’t have any music either…which gave some people the sneaking suspicion that maybe Bret Kelly was going to win his first match in the last 16 years to be exact.
Well.
It wasn’t Bret Kelly’s day, let’s just leave it at that.
To say Noble won would be to say that…taking a shotgun to the face is a pleasant experience. Noble seems to be a little devoid of any crowd interaction at the current moment, a swell guy completely focused on tearing the tendons of his opponent. Who are we kidding? That’s a niche that fits around here more than anywhere else.
Winner: David Noble by pinfall
The Grand Prix series of matches continued was a hot, sexy, steamy bout between Digital Mortality and Doc Curiosity, in a match many people have called a “Match that was part of the NFW Grand Prix Series featuring Digital Mortality and Doc Curisoity”. With acclaim like that I bet you can't wait to read what happened during it. It's a good thing that is what I am currently typing up.
Is Doctor Curiosity like fifty or something? No active wrestler should be that white haired and saggy. He's only in his 30s? How is that even possible? Regardless, he came to the ring and entered it. The Digital Morality came to the ring too, no idea what that guys problem is. I tried using Wikipedia but that wasn't any help.
The men faced off against each other in the centre of the ring, then a bell went off. This is the sort of bell that in general signifies that a match bout has started.
The men went for a lock up, which Mortality got the better of, whipping Curiosity in to the ropes and nailing him with a spinning back kick of some sorts. I'm not sure exactly what it was, what do you take me for? Tony Schiavone?
Taking advantage of the dazed Doc, Da DM followed up with a pavement slam. I did type side-walk but this word processor auto-corrected it to pavement. It was a free gift from Lord Coyner Pollard. That may explain a lot.
Sadly, Mortality could not capitalise on his early offence as before he could establish any sort of offensive flow, Professor Tremendous starting making his way down to the ring. With Mortality's attention focused away from Curiosity - which this word processor suggested should be spelt with a five in it - must be the English spelling. Anyway, with Mortality's focus on Tremendous, Curiosity took advantage, grabbing Mortality by the back of the head and dropping him with a reverse DDT.
Curiosity then began stalking Mortality, waiting for him to get back to his feet. When Mortality had reached one knee, the Doc struck, running forward towards his prey and taking him out with The Schrodinger's Smack for the victory. Thanks, in part, to his partner in academia, Professor Tremendous.
Winner: Doctor Curiosity by pinfall
The next combatant set to do battle in Nashville was flamboyant, to say the absolute least. SARS made his way to the ring to the tune of Mindless Self Indulgence and each and every horrific second of it made me cringe as he had quite possibly the wildest ring entrance since the days of Beau Michaels.
After the following entrance I wasn’t sure which I’d rather watch again as Professor Tremendous made his way out much to the dislike of the common folk in Nashville. You can probably put the picture together when drunken Tennesseans don’t much like a man they’re paying to see. It was a long, out-played charade all the way to the ring and I was ready to see these two kick the sh!t out of each other, have a stiff drink… either or would do at this point.
The match began with SARS dominating the ring with acrobatic techniques that seemed to end coincidentally setting up another manuever that would sweep The Professor’s feet from under him and setting up a series of pinfalls that would easily be kicked out of.
When allowed back to his feet after recovering from a sequence of attacks – the Tremendous One showed us just how TREMENDOUS he really is and found some momentum with the use of a balanced attack of arm drags and suplexes. Tremendous scored himself some points with a few take-downs and pins but thus far neither of the two could make that referee’s hand tap much longer than twice.
Things began to heat up when the Professor Irish Whipped SARS into the opposing ropes to come back and duck down but only setting up the reversal to a SARS elusive technique, telegraphed to perfection ending in a shoulder buster that raised some eye brows in the crowd. Tremendous wasted a split second to long covering and was only rewarded a late two-count for his valiant effort.
SARS battled back but the Tremendous one took charge in the match-up through the climax landing a perfectly executed brain-buster and later falcon arrow. Once again, he was only rewarded a tease in the pinfall with a two-count.
Tremendous had steam coming out of the ears after he was pretty well worked up by only scoring two-counts and paid a little bit too much attention to the officiating crew as opposed to the man who was trying to accomplish the common goal – advancement in the Grand Prix tour.
SARS took advantage of Tremendous backing the official into a corner and was able to ascend to the turnbuckle and deliver a missile drop-kick landing flush on the chin of Tremendous and that’s when things began to look up for the… surprisingly talented flamboyant, man.
This is when SARS took advantage instead of pinning his opponent after the drop-kick let him get up on his own will and SARS dropped the patented “Killing Joke” in the form of a front-face lock DDT.
He climbed to the third-rope and that’s when a 360 Shooting Star Press did the Tremendous One in for the three-count.
Lights out and SARS would be moving along.
Winner: SARS by pinfall
Out next is Legion. There is hatred, there is bile, there are people being physically sick at the sight of him coming to the ring, but he seems to get quite the kick out of it. Odd, but we're in NFW.
Then there's the Uber Judge. A man of such magnificence that the opposite happens; there is love, there is joy, there are people seeing their vomit fly right back ito their mouths and nestle back in their stomachs, as right as rain. Actually there's very little of that, but it would have been cool if it had happened.
They enter the ring. They make eye contact for their hatred has deepened. They lock up. They wrestle.
Legion whips the Uber Judge to the ropes, his robes a-flowing, and the judge comes back, looking for a Clothesline but instead getting a swinging Muay Thai kick to the stomach that doubles him over in pain. Legion follows it up with a DDT that causes the ring to shake, such is its power.
The count reaches two before the Judge of Uber recovers his wits sufficiently to get his shoulder up off the canvas. Legion is relentless though, and as UJ gets to his feet he receives another kick, and anoth... oh no wait, he caught that one. He spins Legion round and then jumps on his back, locking in a Sleeper Hold. Legion is wise to such a move, though, and drops backwards to land on top of UJ. The ref gets the count going again, but it only reaches one this time before the Judge pushes Legion off and goes to skulk near the ropes, looking for a change of gameplan.
Legion approaches, and the Uber Judge springboards himself off the ropes, hitting Legion with a Cross Body that gets a one count, but more importantly gets the momentum going back in the Judge's favour. Legion rolls to his feet and throws a forearm at the Judge. UJ counters with a punch, and the two start to brawl, rolling into the ropes, and eventually Legion throws the Uber Judge through the ropes... and then uses the ropes to spring himself up into the air, over the ropes themselves and into a Corkscrew Plancha that lands right on the Uber Judge's uber head!
Nashville cheers despite themselves for such a display of athleticism. Legion gets to his feet, staggering a little himself, as the Uber Judge crawls to the ring and appears to be rummaging around underneath it. Legion comes to tackle him, but the Uber Judge swings back with a Ridiculously Oversized Gavel, which he uses to knock the wind right out of Legion! The crowd pops for the implausible prop, and then does so again as UJ whips Legion into (and over) the railings and follows him into the crowd. Inside the ring the referee has started to count out both competitors, but they're not interested. They're just brawling, opening cuts and welts on the faces of one another. The Uber Judge gets a bag of popcorn to the knee, and Legion gets a cola to the face. Legion's bleeding (though probably not from the cola) and UJ is hobbling (though probably not from the popcorn, though you never know with him).
Legion grabs a nearby child and throws him into the Judge's face, causing Uber Judge to stumble around, and then get thrown back into (and over) the railings headed back towards the ring.
But wait! What is this madness?
There are two... five... ten... loads of men in robes and masks, headed towards the competitors! One grabs the Uber Judge and rolls him towards the ring. The others surround Legion and start to make with the punchy punchy. It is worth noting at this point, perhaps, that the legion (ahem) of masked and robed men are all, in fact, dressed up as The Uber Judge!
The ref reaches fifteen, sixteen, seventeen... and now The Uber Judge (the real one) is in the ring, whereas the Uber Judges (the not-so-real ones) are outside the ring, punching, kicking and mauling Legion, though to be fair to The Devils' Reject about six of them appear to be lying on the floor in various poses that indicate they are suffering from most extreme pain.
Eighteen and nineteen passes, and the count of twenty is reached. The Uber Judge is in the ring, and Legion is currently laying in to one of his assailants with a foam finger and a bag of Skittles. The bell rings, and Legion realizes that he's been duped.
The Uber Judge's arm is raised, and he is victorious.
But then Legion smiles from outside the ring…perhaps, he knew the Uber Judge a little more now, for he and the faux Uber of Judges were surrounded by chairs. Legion grabbed one and swung. He grabbed another and threw.
Security rushed out, Judges fell by the wayside as the true Uberness of Judicialness backpedaled up the entrance ramp with a stern look on his face.
Winner: the Uber Judge by COR
The next two combatants in the Grand Prix couldn’t have had more of a personality clash if they tried.
First of all, we had a greasy-skinned, head-banging animal who made his way down to the ring playing the air guitar to the melody of “Bullet” by the Misfits that had some Nashvillians questioning their motivation to watch the next battle.
Illustrious Face Eater made his way down to the ring, like I said – greasy and all. It was quite the scene as you could almost see the clear-coat film of whatever he bathes himself in before each match but it was about as clear as day.
Lord Coyner Pollard was next to come out and he wasn’t very welcome from the get-go. There’s something about the pride of tenants who live in the Dirty South (if I may) and they didn’t even accept the fact that American isn’t the best country in the world, in fact the thought of any country being remotely close to equal was a hysterical joke.
Pollard made his way out down the ramp and towards the ring curling his upper-lip at the sight of his opponent who was pacing back and forth while licking his lips.
Pollard made his way through the ropes elegantly… or whatever and sooner than later the bell was sounded and another match-up in the Grand Prix tournament would take place.
Facey was dictating the pace of the match-up in the early stages despite that the pace was rather slow. He would do Pollard over with arm drags as Pollard getting more and more frustrated by the outcome of his running strike attempts and Facey remained cool and collected… just about as cool and collected a face-eater could possibly be.
Facey put the fans on their feet with a series of attacks beginning with a handspring elbow after Pollard sent him lazily into opposing ropes… and then quickly ascended the top ropes and landed a leg-drop square on the throat of Pollard. Facey covered up but the Brit had a bit more fight in him than to let a leg-drop diminish his chances here in the Grand Prix tourney.
Pollard actually battled back slowly but surely took advantage of Facey’s headlock attempt shortly after and turned it into a smoothly executed back body drop that put Facey on his neck and gave himself just enough time to recuperate and set up his next attack.
It was Pollard now who used the headlock to his advantage scraping Facey’s face along the top-rope before the referee asked Pollard to keep it clean, however he ran his forehead over the rugged rope once more before making the transition from headlock to Russian leg sweep.
Pollard waited for Facey to get to his feet before slapping him square in the face as a mother would a naughty child. Facey didn’t know how to react but Pollard didn’t really give him much time to react after putting him onto his back with a clothesline.
Facey was doubled over by a kick to the gut followed by a swinging neck breaker. Pollard attempted to cover-up but the Lord was unsuccessful in his attempt and was once again sent back to the drawing board.
Pollard took his sweet time getting up and Facey was like a rabid dog at this point and actually took the momentum in the match using an unorthodox spear attempt that looked as if Champ Bailey tried to make a tackle on Mack Strong. It took Pollard off his feet but only because Facey dove at his ankles and it gave Facey enough time to set-up a camel clutch that would wear his opponent down quite a bit.
Facey whipped Pollard into the ropes when both men were back on their feet and Pollard attempted a clothesline that Facey ducked but was taken over with a headlock. Pollard’s firm grip on the headlock and balanced positioning allowed for Facey to do nothing but try and squirm out of the hold. Facey, in-fact tried biting his way out of the hold and the look on Pollard’s face was pricless.
Being bit by an AMERICAN who may very well have every known sexually transmitted disease as well as other diseases foreign to PHD graduates – did not tickle his fancy.
Instead the referee told Facey it was his last warning and to keep it clean and of course that only lasted so long. Pollard was doubled over after letting the hold go and Facey pounced on the backside of him and put him face-first on the mats with a bulldog.
Facey looked wide-eyed and crazy at this point in the match-up when he slid out of the ring and grabbed a steel chair from ringside.
Facey may have forgotten about the Diplomatic Immunity status Pollard had earned himself in this tournament for being victim of cheap-shots and the referee pleaded with Facey for his OWN GOOD to leave the chair outside but the maniac wouldn’t listen and the second steel hit the cranium of Pollard the bell was sounded and Pollard was awarded victory by DQ.
As Facey started to try and setup another chairshot, Cojones Mercado and security bumrushed the ring and tackled him. Pollard got in a few kicks as they dragged Facey away, who let out a bonechilling scream of “I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO STAY HERE!” Pollard watched in bewilderment for a moment before celebrating his victory.
Winner: Lord Coyner Pollard by Disqualification
…the naming of the Grand Prix tournament was a good indication of what this next match-up would be – a grand prix of brutality and chaos.
…the common expectation around here, no?
Anyways, this one between Felix Red and Simply Beautiful took five cigarettes, two rye and cokes and a couple percs just to make it all the way through but let me tell you… Felix Red was hot on the chase for advancing in the tournament and Simply was barely hanging on by using old school technical tactics that came across silky smooth.
Felix Red delivered a pretty smooth handspring elbow after launching his opponent for the evening into opposing ropes. It took Beautiful off his feet and the match took another turn in Felix’s favour before he was tripped up running back and forth on the ropes one length too long and Simply Beautiful wore him down from the shoulders up with a camel clutch.
Felix tried biting, scratching and foot stomping his way out as he made it back to his feet but a backhand attempt missed and Beautiful used his momentum, beautifully to land a belly to belly overhead suplex with bridge attempt that would nearly score a three-count in the pinfall.
Nearly half way through and it appeared as if all the cannabis and cigarette smoke caught up to Felix as he was dishing out punishment but Simply was staying alive using smart wrestling techniques to snipe the advantage out from underneath Felix’s feet – literally.
I’m not sure if it was around this time in the match in which I decided to make a rather rough concoction of booze and percs but none the less… time was flying by and still neither man had won the match.
Even the fans were getting restless as the 20:00 mark passed and both men were laying on their backs trying to get up after Felix Red reversed a German attempt into his own German after backflipping, yes backflipping out of Simply’s attempt to show him – “here ya go buddy… here’s how you German the **** out of somebody” … to the tone of something like that.
Felix was tired and Simply was holding his neck in pain but both men still were on their backs as the ring was lightly showered with concession items. Felix was undoubtedly the first man to his feet but was quickly clipped with a drop toehold that Simply scored and took advantage with a half crab that would eventually be broken up because Felix grabbed the rope.
The crowd turned into roided up freaks at a Sarah McLachlan concert at the 25:00 mark in the match-up and both men were still battling for position to take the victory.
Felix Red took full advantage of his size and well, lack of ability to determine if he’d need enough time to quickly ascend the ropes after a snap DDT and deliver a hanging moonsault.
He landed flush however the pinfall attempt would indicate otherwise as the match-up continued and the crowd reaction after the kick-out was like a missing buzzer-beater attempt.
Felix was getting frustrated and that frustration level would undoubtedly be raised to the next bar after another German attempt was turned into a stunner… yes of the Stone Cold variety.
So the marathon would only continue and Simply Beautiful was competing against not only Felix Red but the 30:00 minute deadline that would render this match a draw.
Simply picked Felix up to his feet after the Stunner attempt leaving him with less than ample time to recover… send him flying into the near ropes and back into a spinning spinebuster that… if you’re familiar with the way NFW handles spinebusters… it’s more like a vertebrae buster in the sense that Felix was dropped square on the back of his neck with his knees pressed against the mats on either side of his head. Yeah. There was nothing simply beautiful about it.
Simply got back to his feet at the 00:10 mark slowly and attempted a leg drop, but Felix rolled out of the way and that’s when the bell tolled for both combatants ending in a draw.
Winner: TIME-LIMIT DRAW
Off the heels of Simply Beautiful and Felix Red’s battle, Cameron Cruise’s music hit the airwaves to a loud crowd cheer. Cruise was last seen leaving Brock Alyas flat on his back at Crash 45, so when both competitors had arrived in Nashville with open contracts…well, around here the math is quite simple.
Although, the crowd seemed to favour the southern-bred Cruise, it didn’t seem like he cared one iota…he didn’t slap hands, remained quite focused on watching the aisleway and his opponent Brock Alyas once he stalked down the ring slowly. Before the bell rang, both competitors met in the middle of the ring for a long staredown…I don’t know what Alyas said, but Cruise cold-cocked him with a quick right hand to a loud cheer and somewhat surprising start. The bell rang immediately and we were off on a wild, knock ‘em down and drag it out Brawl affair. Cruise kept on the offensive early, seeming to relish in stomping, punching and elbow striking the young Alyas. Maybe Cruise saw a little of himself in the younger Brock or maybe he resented the ‘push’ the behemoth had earned himself in recent months.
Cruise continued the stomp and punch brigade until Alyas stopped him dead in his tracks with a rake of the eyes and running clothesline that whiplashed him hard to the mat. Alyas started returning the favor with his own barrage of brawling tactics. Taking the time to punch, kick and sideswipe Cruise from behind. Alyas went for a vertical suplex, got it blocked by Cruise gutting him with a kneelift. Cruise capitalized with a swinging neckbreaker, but Alyas rushed up only to get served with a running clothesline from Cruise. Quick two count, but no victory for Cameron…and rather than play to the crowd, he stayed on Alyas like a bee on honey. Side Russian Legsweep into a rollover pin got another two count. Alyas staggered up right into a Stun Gun Suplex followed by a nasty elbow drop to the forehead. Cruise then rolled Alyas to a seated position and put his knee into the youngster’s back, while applying a reverse chinlock.
Alyas stood up after a few moments, buried some elbows into Cruise’s gut to break the hold and barrelled off the ropes and got caught with a drop toe hold. Cruise wrenched in a side headlock on the mat, but Alyas quickly powered up…and powered Cruise out of the hold with a strong Back Suplex which dropped Cruise more on his head than anything else. With the tide turned and Alyas frothing at the mouth, the crowd started to try and will Cruise back into the match as Alyas treated him like a ragdoll that owed him money. Overhead Belly to Belly, Wheelbarrow and a standard Delayed Suplex left Cruise in ruins, but not enough to give Alyas a pinfall. Running Powerslam got a deuce count as well as a second rope shoulderblock.
Alyas started looking like he was setting up in the ¾ stance for the Explodah finish, but Cruise apparently scouted him decently and rolled out of the ring. Alyas in frustration followed out, but Cruise used his veteran instincts to sidestep a double axehandle attempt and then shoved Alyas right into the ringpost. The crowd watched in shock as Cruise then blasted Alyas into the ringpost one more time, as well as the stairs. Cruise rolled Alyas back in the ring and looked to go for the Shipwreck, but Brock countered with a back body drop.
The crowd then started to boo as KIN HIROSHI came down to ringside. Considering his war of words with BOTH Cruise and Brock during the weeks leading up to the duel Brawl shows in Nashville and Charlotte, fans weren’t sure what to expect…except something they didn’t like.
Hiroshi had a megaphone and started chastising Cruise’s gameplan, while making fun of Alyas’ mother. Alyas started shouting back, but Cruise surprised him with a flash rollup which only got a two-count. Alyas bumrushed right into a small package and another two count. Finally, Alyas broke the string of flash pins with a kneelift and a gutwrench suplex. Cruise tried rolling out of the ring with Brock grabbing for him, the ref had to pull him away and that only caused Brock to send the ref packing to the mat with a stiff shove. Alyas leaned through the ropes and grabbed Cruise by the hair, started dragging him in…BLAM. MEGAPHONE SHOT. LOUD BOOS.
Alyas splayed out on the mat in a snow angel position courtesy of Hiroshi’s shot. Hiroshi booked it to the back, cackling the whole way as Cruise shook out the cobwebs and lifted up Alyas before hitting the “Reality Check” Reverse Flatliner-type facemasher. Cruise got the 3 count, but while he got his hand raised by the ref…he saw the Hiroshi megaphone-shot on the STARtron and immediately ripped his hand away and shook his head disgustedly. Exiting the ring without celebration, Cruise looked very ticked off at the way he won…but everyone had a feeling when Alyas woke up, it wouldn’t even compare to the “Ninth Mile” reaction.
Winner: Cameron Cruise by pinfall (thanks Kin!)
Smart money said Luci4 was dead meat. It's not that she isn't wrestling a full time schedule, or that she and Legion are overly - occupied with Felix Red and James Varga (and a gigantic talking turtle... Miles needs to stop lacing my drinks), it's just... well... This is Teresa Q.
And she's defending her National Championship tonight. Does anyone expect anything less than her A game?
Regardless, Teresa looked like she took her match with Nova to heart, she didn't stop to talk to any of the fans on the way down, handed her title belt to the timekeeper, and told him to ring the bell before she was even through the ropes. Luci was caught off guard by a forearm across the chin and a shoulder to the chest.
The message was loud and clear. 'I'm still unbeatable.'
TQ kept the pressure on through the early goings, taking Luci to the mat more often than she has in recent weeks, and punishing her once there. Luci's attempts to counter came up fruitless more times than most, though she did gain a temporary breather when TQ whipped her into the ropes, and when she attempted a hip toss, Luci expertly rolled with the momentum and dropped the National Champion with a DDT that got her a two count.
Still, it was a start.
Luci kept the pressure on by keeping the champion off balance. She made sure to drop a knee, or an elbow, or a leg, whatever was handy every time it looked like TQ was about to get up, and she kept her on the mat with a bodyslam, followed by a snap suplex that looked like it knocked the wind out of Teresa.
It was a short lived comeback, however, as TQ reversed a Frankensteiner attempt with a falling powerbomb that knocked Luci senseless. She wasted no time in getting in position, so as soon as Luci, dazed, crawled to her feet--
--Process of illumination, and the pin.
After the match, TQ left the ring without a show, took her belt, and headed for the back. And anyone who thought she had lost a step after she lost to Nova found themselves readjusting their perceptions.
Winner: Teresa Quaranta by pinfall, National Championship retained
The fans pop like a freshly stomped on balloon as High Flyer makes his way out. He seems to be a very popular man amongst the NFW fans, despite being something of a lunatic. Hang on, maybe it's actually because he's a lunatic. Either way, he gets a good reaction and makes his way into the ring. His music fades and is soon replaced by that of Impulse, the young rookie starting to make waves in New Frontier Wrestling. Impulse doesn't get the same kind of reaction as the widely-known High Flyer, but ehre's a definite positive reaction.
The bell sounds and the pair lock up. Flyer uses his slight height and weight advantage to push back Impulse, and then to whip him to the ropes. Impulse rebounds off and comes back with a Flying Lariat that surprises the veteran and knocks him to the ground. Impulse is quick to drop down and move in with a Lateral Press, but Flyer kicks out just after the count of one.
High Flyer moves in on Impulse, grabbing him and looking to hit a Body Slam, but Impulse drops out of it and gets behind Flyer. Impulse sets up a Hammerlock on his opponent, but Flyer reverses it and then takes down Impulse with a Neckbreaker. The crowd cheer as the Veteran moves to the turnbuckles and ascends them in one swift leap. He raises his hands with the devil horns and dives off, coming down with a 450 Splash! The ref gets down and bangs his hand on the mat twice, but before the three count, Impulse wrenches his shoulder off the canvas.
Flyer grabs Impulse again as he attempts to get up, but the younger wrestler is quicker than High Flyer gave him credit for and squirms out of the way before catching Flyer with a boot to the midsection and a Tornado DDT! Flyer gets to his feet, but a Snapmar and a Dropkick to the back of his head render him motionless on the mat. Impulse rushes to the turnbuckles as fast as his feet can carry him, and propels himself off with a carbon copy of Flyer's 450 Splash!
It connects! The ref's there and it's One! Two! Kickout!
The crowd are getting in to this match, so it's about time that it was ruined, and what better way for that to happen than with the introduction of Doctor Curiosity? The lab-coat wearing man of deviousness saunters down to the ring and looks at the two men wrestling. Were there commentators present at this most august event, they'd be speculating on his presence. Does he favour one man over the other? He's fighting Impulse at the next show, but his history with High Flyer goes back about four years to their time in fWo.
Both men look his way, but then get back to the point in hand. They lock up and Impulse hits a hip toss, but his attempt to capitalize is hit by a Drop Toe Hold... and Flyer locks in an STF! He wrenches back on the move, but Impulse still has enough in the tank, and start to try to roll over to the side. He managed to flip the pair of them over, and in doing so get close enough to the ropes for a quick grab. Flyer is slow to release the hold though, and Impulse pulls harder on the rope, sending both men under the bottom rope and down to the floor...
...where they meet Doctor Curiosity! He's holding a steel chair, and goes to take a swing at Impulse's unprotected head... but then he sees High Flyer! He can't decide which skull to cave in first, such are the opportunities in front of him.
Double Dropkick!
Both men get up as one, and both ump and plant their feet right on the chair, driving it into Curiosity's face and knocking Ze Curious One down to the ground with a thud. They both shrug and roll back under the ropes and into the ring. Flyer is a little quicker to do so and a couple of stomps give him the advantage, which he increases by waiting until Impulse is getting to his feet and then hitting a spectacular Front Flipped Stunner!
The crowd go wild as Impulse twitches on the ground, and Flyer retreats, winding up for his patented Running Yakuza Kick known the world over as the Locomotive.
Impulse get to his feet, shaking his head and trying to clear the cobwebs, but in goes Flyer, getting up speed...
LOCOMOTIVE!
...
Missed!
Impulse ducks with literally a hair's breadth to spare, and the kick flies over his shoulder. He grabs High Flyer from behind and rolls him up.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Flyer kicks out a moment too late, and the crowd erupt as one for the shock result! Were there commentators they might be yelling about upsets, about the heart and wrestling instincts of Impulse claiming perhaps the biggest scalp of his career, but since there aren't any, he'll have to make do with the referee raising his hand and the crowd cheering him to the rafters.
Winner: Impulse by pinfall
The fans murmured because the main event was on the horizon after nearly 3 hours of complete insanity. Considering the actions of Kin Hiroshi earlier in the evening, everyone wasn’t wondering whether or not Brock Alyas and Cameron Cruise would get involved with this match…just when and how.
Hiroshi was out first to a loud chorus of boos, which he seemed to soak in happily. Hiroshi grabbed the microphone from Lee-Baby, announcing himself as the TRUE NFW World Heavyweight Champion…that’s when “I Got a Thing” by Parliament Funkadelic exploded over the speakers, bringing in Nova.
Nova stomped down the aisle, looking angrily at Hiroshi while petting the World Heavyweight Championship slung over his shoulder. As he entered the ring, Hiroshi demanded on the microphone for Nova to give him back his title. Nova handed the ref the championship, then charged and tackled Hiroshi to the mat. With the audible thumping of a microphone bouncing off Nova’s head repeatedly with the bell ringing, all twenty-thousand stood on their feed behind the donnybrook start to the match.
Nova pounded on Hiroshi with rights and lefts from a mounted position, when Hiroshi somehow swerved it into a Sunset Flip pin position counter for a quick two count. Nova rolled out and flipped over Hiroshi into a Jacknife pin, for a two count of his own. Both men quickly rushed to their feet and started wailing away with right hands to each other’s heads, Nova winning the war and sending Hiroshi staggering into the turnbuckles. Nova immediately leapt onto the middle buckles, going for the ten-frame split on Hiroshi’s head…instead Hiroshi carried him out, goes for the Inverted Atomic Drop and Nova pushes himself off avoiding the nutcruncher. This leaves Hiroshi wide open for a front dropkick to the jaw that sends him spiralling out of the ring. Hiroshi runs for the timeskeeper’s table, but gets caught off with a suicide plancha shoulderblock by Nova to a huge markout.
Nova grabs Hiroshi starts bashing his head into the ringpost, the tables, the apron and finally rolls him back in and climbs up. SPRINBOARD CLOTHESLINE – BOOM! Nova covers afterwards, but only gets the two. Nova goes for the DDT, but Hiroshi holds onto the ropes and that means Nova’s the only one going down. Hiroshi’s all over Nova’s first mistake with a stomp barrage, then starts raking his eyes…then his back. Nova squirms on the way up and takes an Atomic Drop which catapults him facefirst into the turnbuckles. Nova staggers out into a Belly to Belly Suplex and a two count. Hiroshi’s fully in charge, slapping Nova across the face and accusing him of using lame squatter rights to keep his title.
Hiroshi brings up Nova and flips him over into a Cradle Suplex. UNO-DOS-TR-no. Nova kicks out, but its looking like Hiroshi isn’t as rusty as advertised. Hiroshi hits a DDT, Corner Slingshot Splash and only gets the two which drives him a little batty. Nova’s in trouble as Hiroshi drops him with a body slam and then cracks him with a Missile Dropkick off the top. The crowd’s buzzing, Hiroshi’s in control…and he gets out of the ring, starts walking towards the timeskeeper’s table again…and TRIES to take the World Championship! Lee-Baby, god-bless him starts fighting him off, allowing for Nova to stumble out of the ring and take him out with a release German on the floor! The crowd flips out, much like Kin…and they start chanting “WELCOME BACK!”
Nova rolls Hiroshi in the ring, slams him in the middle and heads up top. CTRL-ALT-L33—NO DICE. Hiroshi moves out of the Moonsault flippity madness, Nova hits nothing but canvas and both are down.
HI, BROCK ALYAS! THIS IS CONVENIENT!
The crowd gets loud ‘cause “The Ninth Mile” is WALKING! …and yeah, HE’S PISSED!
Meanwhile, Nova and Hiroshi are down, out, scrambled…and double-clotheslining each other as Alyas reaches ringside. Nova and Hiroshi are up again, boot to the gut by Nova – PILEDR—NO. Hiroshi counters with a back body dr—NO. SUNSET FLIP. UNO. DOS. TR-No. Another bumrushing scramble to a standing position, but Nova ducks a clothesline and is able to clothesline Hiroshi out of the ring.
Guess where he is?
Yup.
Alyas is booting him sideways to Sundays on the planet of Pluto, so the ref has to hop out and try and get in the way. Nova doesn’t seem to think Alyas should be here, so he slingshot Planchas onto EVERYONE. The ref, Hiroshi, Nova and Alyas are down. Hiroshi tries to crawl out of the wreckage, but Alyas gets up first…Hiroshi shakily stands and gets heaved up into a GORILLA PRESS.
In an only in NFW moment, Alyas press slams Hiroshi…and that doesn’t get him through the table, but there’s an audible crack head. Nova charges Alyas – GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE LEE-BABY! Back Body Drop onto Hiroshi THROUGH the table. Brock grabs Hiroshi, but from behind…Nova uppercuts his ‘Detroit Pistons,’ which has him doubled over immediately. Nova rolls him into the ring, but guess what Kin has as he crawls under the ring?
The World Championship.
Nova’s lost him and is clueless, climbs up the turnbuckles…overanimated Bruce Lee overhand chop to the top of Alyas’ head. Alyas’ cheeks blow out, his eyes bulge, he’s got the good no-sell vibe going and Nova thumbs him in the eye. Hiroshi crawls out the other side, scampers to his feet and starts running up the aisleway. Nova hits a dropkick, which flips Alyas over the top rope. Nova then looks for Hiroshi and doesn’t spot him until he looks up at the entrance/STARtron, where Hiroshi is holding up the belt in the air. Nova’s frantic in the ring, Hiroshi runs into the back…the referee starts ringing for the bell.
Hiroshi’s apparently been counted out. Alyas is back in the ring, standing behind a bewildered Nova. He spins around and we’ve got a staredown, security quickly rushes into the ring. The fans are all “W-T-F is going on now?” And on the STARtron, Hiroshi’s running out of the arena with security chasing him as well. He gets into a cab, riding off as security scream for him to stop. Watching the proceedings from the backstage exit door is none other than Cameron Cruise. He’s not smiling, he’s not laughing…he shakes his head once, slits his eyes and walks back into the arena.
Fans quickly start buzzing in the aftermath, the parking lot scene has a whole lot of drugs and people looking for Charlotte tickets.
Oh…and if anyone sees Kin Hiroshi between now and then…Nova has already put ½ an ounce of Chattanooga Chronic on the return of his belt.
Winner: Nova via Countout, KIN STEALS THE BELT!
``xEkEZFZEZppCXQetZev``x1217364500``xNFWBrawl``x11911185844879``x``xNashville, TN``xJuly 15, 2008``xwww.nfw.fwrestling.com/cnews/EkEZFZEZppCX.shtml``x``x``xnova.gif``xhiroshi.gif``x``x
NFW Brawl``xNFW``xHelp.
I’m serious.
I know you’re laughing right now, which is unappreciated considering my certain circumstances at the current moment. Even though it was my own idiocy that put myself in this pathogenic and psychotic predicament.
My name is Edward McDaniel, Junior. I’m from Midland, Texas. Sometime during my Oklahoma University Senior Spring Semester in 2007, I psilocybinally applied to New Frontier Wrestling’s Summer Internship of Tetrahydrocannabinolized Honor Students.
It’s not so much that I found the program or the program found me. The real truth is that there were souls involved with the internet that enabled a secret googling porn wrestling search to lead you to what seemed like a promised land of psychological expansion not meant for humans, which is really my final synopsis on Day 36.
37 days ago was my last grad-school exam. The new fiancée and I went to help out New Orleans' economy, which means I ended up falling asleep drunk on a swing somewhere in Audubon Park. I don’t know what happened next, but it’s been 37 days since I’ve had sex with a woman that hasn’t “experimented” with animal porn. I woke up somewhere in Lancaster, PA and snuggling with two French hookers dressed like Amish chicks. Its 37 days since I’ve been sober for longer than 3 hours, my lungs are dripping with tar…my d*ck is redder than Reba McIntire’s wig and my eyes have been dilated so often that they’ve shapeshifted to Uma Thurman proportions.
Craig Miles bided his time for one year, just as I had gotten a prestigious internship at the Mississippi State Business Bureau. I suppose it is now 27 days since I was fired from that and dubbed “WAHOO” for my NFW Internship. He says, when humans panic…we work harder.
Why am I in Kentucky right now?
Why haven’t I run away?
Because I can’t lie.
Because I’m a man.
Because never again in my life will I do what the French call “Hooking the Swan Gullet” while blindfolded on Peyote with six other interns’ middle fingers fated under a hatchet held by Craig Miles and those French Hookers screaming back “POLO” as they stand over buckets.
That’s BROTHERHOOD.
That’s TRUST.
That’s what we need in LIFE.
And my fiancée won’t do anything, but the missionary or get on top. F*CK THAT.
…
Help.
I’m serious.
SIRIUS channel 420 crackles to life with the Delaney & Bonnie political anthem “Got to Get Better in a Little While” and I’m officially on the clock as your resident Summer Grand Prix House Show Intern. We’ve got our trio of terror introducing themselves to the audience as Freedom Hall is getting drunker than Naomi Campbell before an international flight. Calamity’s doing some cracked-out speed version of Francis Scott Key’s melody as Sean Toombs grades out the area’s Kentucky Bluegrass at 3.5 nugget parcels (huh?) …Wildstar welcomes us excitedly to Louisville, Kentucky’s Freedom Hall saying he’s honored to be judging this contest while providing commentary.
He sends a shout-out to the Suicide Kings, hits a little tangent about how Calvin Carlton and Blaine Hollywood have likely sealed their fates in hell for all of eternity and somehow segues that nicely into how a majority of the competitors in tonight’s proceedings can claim the same.
Sean Toombs doesn’t understand why all the American Flags are hanging upside down from the rafters with a single white star. Calamity wonders if NFW sends monkeys up there to do that sort of thing, then asks if monkeys can be dyslexic.
I take my first shot of Kentucky Bourbon because this is going to be a long night.
Wildstar runs down the list and gauntlet rules for the audience, 3 men in the ring at a time…9 world-class athletes and elimination pinfall rules applied. To qualify for the Grand Prix, each wrestler will be required to attain another wrestler’s elimination. If you do not get an elimination, you lose.
Taking the names at face value, you’d be expecting somewhat of an honorable, well-strategized chess match of wrestling excellence to start the gauntlet. Of course, taking things at face value in NFW is about the equivalent of letting your fat, cankle champion 18-year old cousin bend over in front of an X’d out Bill Clinton.
I don’t know what that means, but NFW proves itself after each wrestler is introduced as they realize there’s no referee. At which point, Lee-Baby Sims announces that there will be a SPECIAL referee for the evening. Wildstar’s apparently unaware of the situation and doubting the validity of this gauntlet if NFW pulls something here.
“The Master of the Secret Spices, the Crispy Champion of the World…”
Kentucky is going wild.
COLONEL F’N SANDERS IS IN THE HOUSE.
And then they REALLY freak out.
‘Cause as Sanders points at the ring screaming “It was NOT a rat!” a 290 lb behemoth stomps through the curtain to a huge eruption, shadowing the Colonel and smiling as he violently hooks in a full nelson…the crowd on their feet in ovation for another state celebrity of sorts.
WELCOME TO PAYNESVILLE…B*TCH.
The crowd MARKS as JASON PAYNE delivers the Paynekiller Full Nelson Slam to the Colonel, stepping over him as he stalks down the ring with a white tank-top and USA-styled Zubaz pants. The back of his shirt reads “Nixon ate my sleeping pills” …and well, if you don’t get this whole set-up – shame on you.
Jason Payne, your official Night 2 Referee.
If Craig Miles, Eddie Mayfield and Jason Payne are on the same page…which I’m guessing they sorta are by the fact that no Insurgent Security Patrol is out here yet…then I’m really worried for everyone’s necks.
Curiosity asks why he did that, Payne replies “He had a foreign object.” All 3 wrestlers in the ring gulp nervously as the bell rings, the crowd roars…and I feel some solace in the fact that I’m not the only one wondering if my body will be intact by the end of the evening.
How do we start? Well, we’re talking about Shawn Hart, Professor Tremendous and Doctor Curiosity.
Naturally all three men immediately try to rake each other’s eyes out. We’ve got Stereos, circle rotations and counter-clockwise snake rotations of who’s poking or raking an eye for a good 20 seconds until everyone’s walking around blindly.
All 3 swing and miss the air, turn around and bump into each other. TRIPLE HEADBUTT. TRIPLE FLAIR FLOP. Did you expect a different start? C’mon. We’ve got a scramble to their feet and they each kick each other in the shins ‘causing everyone to hop around, which segues into stereo legsweeps and everyone’s back down on the mat. Tremendous is up first, but he takes a lowblow from Curiosity. Curiosity tries to pick up Hart, but takes a lowblow of his own. Hart kips up and Jiggy Struts right into Tremendous launching a boot into his gonads. All 3 down again. My brain is breaking from Larry, Curly and Moe screaming at me to sue for copyright infringement.
They all get up again, Tremendous reeling in Curiosity for a Suplex only to take an elbow smash from Hart. Hart pins Doc, kickout and he lands on Tremendous for another kickout. Hart starts crisscrossing as the Professor and Doctor rise to eat a double clothesline. Hart climbs the top rope, his opponents get up and he launches off for a bodypress which the Professor ducks and the Doctor eats, but turns into a rollover. Near pinfall broken up by Tremendous. Doc rushes up right into a DDT from Tremendous and another near pin. Hart grabs Tremendous by the backseat and goes for a Back Suplex, but the Prof counters with a bulldog. Doc’s up and hits a sliding dropkick into the back of Tremendous’ head as he’s gloating.
Tremendous out of the ring, Curiosity brings up Hart for a DDT – Northern Lights Suplex reversal and Hart gets the near pinfall. Hart spirals to his feet and starts poking Payne in the chest, even goes as far to slap him across the face. He probably should not have turned his back on Payne ‘cause BLAM! PAYNEKILLER TO HART! Curiosity covers, but out of nowhere Tremendous returns the earlier favor with a sliding dropkick to his face. Hart staggers up and right into…
THE TREMENDOUS PLEX. Uno. Dos. Tres.
The Spinning Fisherman’s Buster qualifies our FIRST competitor in the evening in Professor Tremendous, while eliminating Shawn Hart from further competition.
Payne press slams Hart out of the ring, while ‘Simply Beautiful’ Andrew Rossi walks down. He gulps nervously as he steps over Hart who’s helped out by security. Tremendous is working over Curiosity with a reverse chinlock, but takes a wicked kick from Rossi to his back. Rossi starts working over Tremendous with a series of elbow smashes, then brings him up for a quick Snap Suplex. Rossi back up and lines up another elbow drop, but Curiosity uppercuts the groin.
Rossi gets out the subsequent sunset flip with tights pulled and a Jackknife pin attempt by Curiosity with the feet on the ropes that Payne notices. Curiosity starts arguing, Payne flexes and that causes the Doctor fall out of the ring screaming “Jah!” Now, usually when you say “this is where stuff got strange,” that’s never a good sign for a NFW night.
As Rossi and Tremendous shake out the cobwebs in the ring, Curiosity gets up and starts climbing on the apron. …and that’s when Richard Nixon rolled out from under the ring. Now, ok…it wasn’t the real Tricky Dick Nixon, but someone that invaded the Point Break storage facilities and found a latex mask resembling the man that cannot tell a lie.
Curiosity gets his foot pulled out from him and jawjacked on the apron, but Payne doesn’t see the culprit get back UNDER the ring immediately as everyone and especially Wildstar doesn’t know what to think. Back in the ring, Rossi’s recovered to catch Tremendous with a few forearms and an avalanche clothesline in the corner. Rossi tries to set up a Superplex, but Tremendous pushes him off and connects with a spinning elbow smash off the top. Payne keeps track of Curiosity’s potential countout, while Tremendous hits a rolling kneedrop.
Tremendous next goes for a Figure Four, but Rossi counters with a small package. Curiosity breaks up the pin with a diving shove, which only ends up reversing it for a near pinfall that the Doc dropkicks into Tremendous and Rossi. This of course means they egg roll around the ring and UNO. DOS. TR—Doc breaks it up with an old-fashioned stompout. Rossi fights to his feet, but takes a snap mare into a rolling neck snap from Curiosity. For some reason that riles up Tremendous to a bumrushing kitchen sink knee to the Doctor as he’s trying to Fargoschneiz Strut.
Tremendous brings up Doc and hits a Slingshot Powerslam, which Rossi breaks up with a legdrop to the back of his head. Rossi and Tremendous start trading chops to Flic Rair enthusiasts, then double clothesline each other back down to the mat. Curiosity covers Tremendous, doesn’t get the pin. Curiosity covers Rossi and doesn’t get the pin. Curiosity stammers up, stomps on the mat in frustration and goes for the Schrodinger’s Smack on Tremendous, but gets Dragon Screwed into an STF!
Curiosity is about to tap, but Rossi pulls Tremendous off and hooks in an Ankle Lock. Tremendous flips it over into a Victory Roll pin and nearly gets the pinfall. All three get up and Curiosity is Irish Whipped by Tremendous into a Rossi Lariat. Rossi then eats The Pop Quiz Series (Repeated Spinning Heel Kicks). Tremendous covers, but Curiosity shocks the whole Arena by hitting a Springboard 180 Legdrop to the back of Tremendous’ head.
Tremendous gets to a knee, bad move! SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHD! Curiosity’s signature “Schrodinger’s Smack” knocks out Tremendous, Curiosity salutes the crowd to boos…and they quickly turn to cheers, when Rossi lowblows him from behind. Rossi collapses onto Tremendous and gets the UNO. DOS. TRES. Curiosity gets an elimination stolen from him and still hasn’t qualified. Tremendous has, but is out as Rossi immediately tries getting the Heel Hook on Curiosity for Elimination #2…Doc quickly gets a rope break.
The fans erupt as Jay Phoenix runs down to ringside…and slides under the ring. Jason Payne exits to see what the hell is going on as Rossi locks Curiosity into an Abdominal Stretch, using the ropes for leverage.
Tricky Dick Nixon (wearing a suit) rolls out the opposite side from Payne, Phoenix crawls out after him and takes a vicious chairshot. Payne hears it, but Tricky Dick is back under the ring before he can see what’s going on. Payne picks up the dented chair confused than notices Rossi’s current ploy in the ring. Payne storms in and launches a big boot to Rossi’s arm, breaking up the scenario.
Tricky Dick’s back out of the ring and he catches Phoenix with a DDT on the chair, which Payne does see this time. Payne quickly storms out of the ring as Tricky Dick dives back under the ring. Payne now picks up the chair, just as Curiosity gets a flash rollup on Rossi yelling at Payne. UNO DOS. TR—nope. Rossi rolls out and Curiosity hits a Hurricanrana, leaning back and hooking up Rossi’s legs – UNO. DOS. TR—nope. Rossi’s fired up, but eats a dropkick knocking him through the ropes.
Payne is helping up Phoenix, where on Rossi’s side…a man in a Ronald Reagan mask pops out and pushes him from behind into the ringpost. Curiosity tries to catch Reagan with a sliding dropkick, but old Ronnie has eyes in the back of his head moves. Curiosity lands on his feet, charges and takes a drop toe hold into the ring steps. Payne’s running around for Reagan, who dives back under the ring. Phoenix stumbles and rolls himself into the ring, Rossi does the same.
Phoenix staggering up and catches Rossi on the rise with a cracking chop. Another. God Bless Hershey for apparently crying out like ancient Choctaws. Tres. Cuatro. Cinco Chops HAHAHAHA! My inner Count Chocula aside, Sean Toombs wonders when we signed Daniel Day Lewis. Phoenix with an Irish Whip followed by a cracking side elbow to the skull. Phoenix springboard Moonsault – NO. Rossi moves. Curiosity’s climbing back in the ring, while Payne’s pacing comes to no avail.
With chair in tow, Payne slides back in with a keen eye outside the ring. Phoenix staggers up and Curiosity catches him with a slap across the chest. Phoenix wallops him with a chop of his own, Curiosity goes down like he’s shot and scuttles towards Payne. Attempting to pry the chair unsuccessfully, Phoenix uses his back as a springboard for a Phoenix dropkick into Payne.
The chair goes flying, Phoenix has it…he goes to hit Curiosity with it, but Payne grabs it out of his hand and sends him to the left field upper-deck with a home-run BOMB. The crowd marks like crap as Curiosity hooks in the Zin Magistranz Cradle while Rossi forces down Phoenix’s legs to the mat.
Rolled into a ball, possible concussion?
UNO. DOS. TRES.
Payne gets a mic and announces that each competitor has only earned HALF an elimination and therefore, “The Freaky German ain’t qualified just YET.” Curiosity heaves his chest, his heart possibly ready to leap out as he’s hit the 30 minute mark and still hasn’t qualified?
Phoenix stumbles back to the entrance curtain, walking around woozily as Ronald Reagan waves bye-bye from his ducking position out from under the ring.
And if the night couldn’t have gotten worse for the Doctor, who Wildstar is commenting is probably wrestling one of his purest contests all things considered. …No wonder he’s frustrated. NFW rules are the only rules cloudier than the Curious Rules he devised to drive High Flyer even more insane than he already was four years ago.
Flyer never got saner from what I understood.
And he just happened to be sprinting towards the ring as the crowd roared. Rossi tries to stop him at the ropes, hammering away with boots and Flyer just forces himself up and to his feet. Immediately making a beeline for the Doc, Rossi cinches in a reverse neckbreaker easily. UNO. DOS. Not even close. Flyer powers out, Rossi fires a right hand that’s blocked. Flyer with an Irish Whip, but no! Fooled you – Short Arm Clothesline.
Wildstar comments about Flyer and Miles’ history, while Calamity says he digs Flyer’s hair. Ok…WEIRDO. Toombs makes some sort of bubbling sound. Flyer’s immediately stalking the pleading Doc and walks right into those heely boot to the guts. Kneelift by the Doc. Rams him into the turnbuckles and whips Flyer across the ring. THESZ PRESS. FISTFUL OF MEDICINE. Flyer’s mounted and swinging haymakers as Curiosity flails. Flyer rips up Doc and brains him with a forearm uppercut. Doc staggers around and Flyer lets out a yell and goes for the Locomotive Yakuza Kick, but Doc ducks under it. Flyer turns around and takes a vicious low blow. Calamity starts telling Toombs he was not happy he agreed to chug every time Doc does that this match…
Flyer’s doubled over and Curiosity plants him with a Double Arm DDT. UNO. DOS. You’re still at a half, Doc. Curiosity starts slapping his hand on the mat repeatedly and wants to yell at Payne, but each time he cranes his neck upwards…for some reason, Toombs doesn’t get why he turns back around in a huff. Of course, Toombs is high.
Doc brings Flyer into a standing headscissors just as Rossi cracks him in the head with a Superkick. Doc’s splayed out on the mat, Rossi goes for the elim. UNO. DOS. Flyer pulls him off and mounts Rossi’s back, crushing him with fists to the skull. “HE’S MINE!” gets yelled and yep…Flyer’s still crazy about Doc.
Flyer rips up Rossi and takes him back down side slam. Flyer climbs up the turnbuckles blind to the ring. SPLIT-LEGGED MOONSAULT. BLAM. UNO. DOS. TR-no. Rossi with the kickout and Flyer quickly reels him up in a front facelock. TORNADO DDT. UNO. DOS. TR—NO. Doc’s pushing himself back into the turnbuckles, choosing to avoid confrontation…Flyer gets up and starts stomping Rossi, when he realizes that – OH YEAH, I HATE CURIOSITY.
Flyer swerves around and points at Doc, the crowd pops as Doc courageously slides out of the ring and decides to wave off the fans, the ref and Flyer – so he starts walking away from ringside, the crowd booing as he starts going towards the entrance ramp…and HERE COMES RONALD REAGAN TO SAVE THE DAY!
Reagan military rolls out as Toombs and Calamity debate if he’s got a little TV or radio under there to know what’s going on. Wildstar keeps his eyes on the prize, mentioning that doesn’t really matter since Jason Payne has another chair and he’s outside the ring too. Reagan’s got Curiosity by the hair, Doc swings and misses a right badly – OW. Atomic Drop, Curiosity high-steps around in a circle into an Inverted Atomic Drop. Double leg takedown.
“LET’S GO BACK TO THE 80’S.”
Figure Four Leglock.
Payne’s stalking, but he doesn’t see Flyer. Flyer crowns him in the back of the head with a forearm, Payne hits the ringpost and Flyer steals the chair. Reagan rolls the hell out of the way of Flyer trying to decapitate him. Flyer misses another chairshot, which smacks against the barricade. Flyer turns around and Reagan catches him with the RONNINATOR. (Van Daminator)
Flyer’s out, Payne’s stumbling towards the proceedings and cannot catch Reagan before he dives back under the ring. Curiosity hobbles up and grabs Flyer who’s shaken and stirred. He rolls him back in the ring as Rossi covers him immediately. UNO. DOS. TR-NO. Doc with the lunging save. Rossi grabs Doc and nails some rising knee strikes. Doc’s in the turnbuckles. CHOP. CHOP. CHOP. CHOP. Rossi climbs the buckles and starts wailing on Doc’s skull with right hands. UNO. DOS. TRES. CUATRO. CINCO. SEIS. SIETUHHHHHHH—OUCH. Doc carries Rossi out and nails an Inverted Atomic Drop. Double Leg Take down into a Double Legdrop to the Groin.
Curiosity stumbles around the ring, 40 minutes coming close as he uses the ropes to keep himself up as Rossi tries to fight up to a knee – BAD IDEA. SCHRODINGER’S SMACK. SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHHHD! (Yes, its company policy to type it like that. Yes, I think that’s stupid. Yes, Miles will make take six shots of tequila for breakfast tomorrow, but you know what I don’t care anymore. What kind of person says that the best way to learn about business negotiations is getting drugged and left with no clothes near the Salton Sea.)
Oh by the way, Curiosity went for the pin. Oh by the way, High Flyer just started stomping on his skull. Oh by the way, Curiosity fell out of the ring. Oh by the way, Rossi’s trying to stand up with Flyer locked on him.
LOCOMOTIVE YAKUZA KICK.
Rossi’s done.
UNO. DOS. TRES.
Flyer’s qualified, Rossi’s eliminated…but out with 1.5 eliminations which is the most so far.
Curiosity’s staggering up and all of a sudden, we’ve got Bill Clinton smoking what looks like a cigar…but this IS NFW, so who knows. Curiosity turns into a right, another right. Clinton lifts Curiosity into a Body Slam, but drops him throatfirst on the barricade instead. Clinton Goosestruts, spins and then sees Digital Mortality running down the ramp, while Jason Payne is outside the ring behind him.
But most of all, he forgets Flyer who lands a Slingshot Plancha onto him. Payne’s in first dragging out Clinton and rips off the latex mask…which reveals a JFK mask with a bullethole. Payne yells frustatedly and headbutts him to the mat, which backfires since Mortality used Curiosity’s back as a springboard to land a flying clothesline.
Mortality smacks himself in the head, while Flyer punches him in the face as he turns around. Flyer starts hammering away, Mortality stumbles away and Curiosity tries to crawl away. Flyer catches up to him, while a fallen JFK crawls back under the ring. Flyer rolls Curiosity back in the ring and springboards onto him with a Double Stomp. Flyer back off the ropes and hits a Senton Splash. Payne stumbles back in the ring, just in time to get a pin count going. UNO. DOS. Curiosity gets a foot on the rope, Flyer gets pissed. He grabs Curiosity and whips him across the ring. Tilt-A-Whirl Backbreaker and then grabs the legs looking to put him in the Peaceful Slumber Elevated Boston Crab specialty…but Curiosity’s fighting the turnover…and Digital Mortality hits a ROARING ELBOW on Flyer.
Crowd gets loud as he slips in for a Cobra Clutch, but Flyer bottoms out with a Cutter counter to avoid his own finish. Digi stumbles around the ring drunkenly, Flyer rolls up and wrangles him from behind with a Cobra Clutch – SUPLEX! Digi’s own finisher is in the house as Flyer bridges for the pin, UNO. DOS. TR—NO. Curiosity pulls out Flyer by the legs and turns him over him over into an Elevated Boston Crab – crowd marking out, Wildstar marking out and Calamity saying he’ll chug to that. Way to be consistent, pal.
Flyer’s screaming bloody murder and has to push himself up and start walking to the ropes…gets the break. Curiosity breaks the hold and clotheslines Mortality outside the ring just as he gets up, but Digi somehow lands on his feet! Curiosity puts Flyer in his sights, goes for the SHINING—NO! Flyer insanely ducks under and reverses the proceedings into a Leg Capture POWERBAHHHHHHHHHHMB! Crowd MARKS. Flyer grabs the legs.
PEACEFUL SLUMBER
Eep. BAD IDEA.
Curiosity raises the arm to tap, but Digi BLASTS Flyer in the back of the skull with a roaring elbow. Flyer rolls forward and rebounds off the ropes on a knee with his back to Digi crisscrossing off the ropes – SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHHHHD! Flyer gets brained in the side of the head, Digi covers. UNO. DOS. …TRES.
Flyer’s done, but qualifed.. Digi’s qualified and alive. Doc’s motionless, in just over 50 minutes…and still not officially qualified. He might be crying from the pain or that fact, its indeterminable at the moment according to Toombs as more bubbling is heard.
Wildstar cusses on air for the third time this evening as soon as he hears the creepy amusement park music intro.
SARS comes out backflipping, cartwheeling and then sprinting. Sars is wearing normal ring pants and a menacing, frayed and checkered olive sportscoat. Its only menacing ‘cause god knows what are in his pockets. Digi’s pulled Doc into the middle of the ring, hooking in a Camel Clutch…and Sars immediately breaks that up by digging into Digi’s eyes. Payne starts counting as has to forcibly break Sars out of the corner he pushed Digi into. Sars hits Payne, Payne wallops Sars and then watches him use the momentum to forearm blast Digi in the corner. Irish Whip. Back Handspring Elbow Sm—NO. Digi moves, Sars bounces out and takes a back body drop right across Curiosity’s back. Curiosity electric eel dances as Sars kips up and walks into a dropsault by Digi.
Digi goes for a Hurracanrana, but Sars counters by falling backwards and clotheslining his throat across the top rope. As Digi staggers around, Sars blasts him in the head with his Spinning Circus Kick. Sars breakdance spins to his feet, makes an eatin’ out vag taunt to Digi (did I just type that?) and hits a Standing SSP. UNO. DOS. TR—NO. Digi just kicks out. Sars gets a little angry and starts repeatedly knee striking him in the skull until Digi tumbles into the corner facefirst and eats a Bronco Buster followed by a very eye-blinding mechanical bull ride impersonation. Curiosity saves the day as he pulls Sars from behind by the backseat and takes him down with a Backdrop Suplex. Sars does roll to his feet quickly, but Doc catches him with a German Uppercut that sends the facepainted freak staggering around….and right into Doc hooking him and screaming “EFF EQUALS MAH!” Which apparently introduced one nice looking STO.
Curiosity seems pleased with himself and goes for the pin, but Digi pulls him out from behind and hooks an Ankle Lock…and drops to the mat hooking himself around Doc’s leg. Doc has NOWHERE to go and Mortality starts twisting violently. Sars hurries, SPRINGBOARD 180 KNEEDROP into Digi’s head. Doc has to crawl out of the dangerzone, but Sars is all over him with kicks to the head.
Sars rolls out of the ring, grabs Doc by the foot and slams it against the ringpost. Sars then grabs a chair and jabs into Doc’s ankle against the post. Curiosity starts three-legged crabwalking around, Digi nails a Double Stomp to the sternum and covers. UNO. DOS. Sars slingshot swandive headbutt into Digi’s shoulder. All three are acting a little hurt, but its Doc stumbling up and Sars regaining his vision that happen first.
Sars goes for an Irish Whip, but a stumbling Doc somehow reverses and uses everything he can to nail Newton’s 3rd Law (Discus Lariat!) which takes Sars out. Doc covers for the UNO. DOS. TR—NOPE. Both men get up, but Doc has the advantage in Sars blindspot and catches him with a Side German Legsweep Facebuster – and lo and behold, he’s able to lock in the Curious Crossface! Sars immediately starts screaming and making a beeline for the ropes getting the break.
Curiosity is in such shock that he hooked it that he never sees Digi hooking him from behind and nailing a reverse Hurricanrana then rolling backwards into his leghook Ankle Lock! Curiosity starts screaming bloody murder and is able to reach the ropes being close enough to them. By the way, over an hour…shredded spine, shredded ankle…still not qualified.
Sars gets up and Springboard Moonsaults Digi to break up the hold. The impact on Doc’s leg sends the ‘German’ into a frenzy, while Mortality’s fetal and hurt. He slowly stands up and Sars drops him with an Asai DDT, FUHGETABOUTIT.
UNO. DOS. TRE—No pin for you. Doc’s outside the ring, limping around and all of a sudden, Dick Cheney ducks his head out from under the ring and hands him a thick vest. “Get ready to go hunting later!” Cheney’s gone and Doc puts ON the vest, climbs on the apron…starts testing his ankle out. Meanwhile, Sars is getting on the apron on the other side.
Sars is getting up first as Doc finally decides his ankle can handle the climb up top. Sars hits a Corkscrew Splash. Digi rolls around in a lot of pain, finally stopping where Sars can pin him…just under Curiosity who hits The Metal-Plated Shooting Star Cheat! Digi might be dead, Sars is slumped on him…Doc piled on top of both.
UNO. DOS. …
TRES.
Digi’s out, but qualified. …Payne grabs Doc’s vest and tears it off…starts tearing the fabric and pulls out the metal plating inside the vest, the crowd laughing. Payne grabs a mic and says that Sars and Curiosity get half an elimination each. Begrudgingly, “Von Idiotstein does qualify, but I’ll be Brock Alyas’ prison-widened asshole if this clown makes it. …he’s just TOO WEIRD FOR JASON PAYNE.”
BLAM.
Payne big boots Sars in the head as he gets up to crowd cheers.
“Now, for the man that’s TOO UNAMERICAN FOR JASON PAYNE…”
Curiosity’s eyes bulge as he backs up into the turnbuckles.
Is that a mask of our current president I’m seeing now?
The suited Presidential Masked Freak is back. He’s on the top rope, the crowd screams as he launches at Jason Payne who turns around just in time to waffle him with the mic to crowd cheers. People are buzzing as the last entrant, the Illustrious FaceEater is due at any moment.
Payne tosses the mic out, cracks the President in the head with the metal plating from a “Curious” vest…and crouches patiently. His big paws get around the President’s throat and the crowd goes wild…Payne rips off the mask…the crowd groans as John McCain’s grill stares back at Payne. Payne unleashes several more headbutts, rips off the mask.
And there is Adam Dick’s eyes gleaming.
“I’M BARACK OBAMA B*TCH!”
CHOKESL—NO!
Gross.
WHITE MIST.
Payne drops Facey.
Our final 3 were in the ring all along.
Seriously? Who uses white mist? Payne staggers around and Sars eats a kick to the head. Facey starts ripping off the suit to crowd fears…and there’s a lot of grease stains inside for who knows what god-awful reason. Facey wore his wrestling attire underneath…that’s normal…like Porn Star Nipples.
Curiosity tries to exit the ring, but Facey brings him back inside with a release German Suplex. Oh, the irony. Facey off the ropes and he nails Curiosity with a Vertical Splash. He starts jumping on his chest and screaming “FEEL MY TENTA!” for god knows why, before Curiosity reverses him into a Sunset Flip pinning predicament precisely paused because Payne…CAN’T SEE SH*T.
Facey rolls out, diving dropkick to Curiosity’s skull. Spins up and runs at Sars with a lariat, but Sars ducks – URAN—FACEY turns the Uranage into a rolling cradle that Payne misses as well. Sars headscissors out of the hold, trying to choke out Facey while Curiosity limps up to his feet. Facey lifts Sars off the mat and hits a spinning powerbomb that Sars somehow keeps his legs locked around Facey’s head before locking in a Triangle Choke! Curiosity stumbles over towards Facey and rakes his boot right across the face breaking the hold.
Sars slumps out coughing, while Facey thrashes on the mat and Curiosity kicking him in the head at the same time. Curiosity hops around into his blindsight and BLAM. SHINING WIZARD…BUT it’s hit with his off-foot and knocks Facey out...will it be enough? Doc covers – UNO. DOS. TRES. CUATRO…Payne can see, he’s finally coming over for the count. UNO. DOS. TR—NOPE. Facey kicks out.
Sars is still down, Doc’s barely even moving after nearly hitting a killshot. Facey’s rolling towards the ropes and getting his hands on them. Doc sits up and stands up…80 minutes of pure hell. He looks out to the crowd giving him a standing ovation…and now he’s…flicking his chin at them…he’s flipping off Payne…and he’s LEAVING.
The crowd once again starts booing as Curiosity rolls out of the ring and starts limping down towards the entrance curtain again. Payne’s chasing after him. Curiosity with a left. Payne with a right. Doc charges and Payne lifts him up in a Press Slam to crowd roars. Doc’s shaking his head like a wet dog and Sars is climbing the top turnbuckles.
Wait.
What is Sars doing?
DEAR GOD.
CORKSCREW PESCADO. Payne tucked Doc in for impact, so he’s not COMPLETELY dead.
Oh snap.
FACEY.
Springboard Senton Bomb onto…well, according to Wildstar…EVERYONE.
Four men on the floor, a complete wreck of a scene according to Calamity who’s so inspired he starts drunkenly singing “God Bless America” with the crowd. As the whole crowd starts hitting its second verse, Doc stumbles to his feet and holding his ears in apparent searing pain. The crowd’s offkey and drunken version gets louder as Doc starts rolling around in the ring, holding his ears and screaming “SHUTUHHHHHHHHHP!”
Uhm.
Sars.
TOP ROPE LEGDROP.
He covers as the crowd starts screaming for Payne to get in the ring. He’s trying, but its actually Facey up ahead of him and climbing the turnbuckles.
TOP ROPE LEGDROP TO SARS.
Facey rolls off Sars and covers Curiosity.
Payne…rolls in the ring LAST, UNO. DOS. TR—NO. Facey covers Sars. UNO DOS. TRE—NO. Facey rolls around the mat in frustrations, screaming obscenities about Payne…who’s even shrugging himself at this point. He’s been blinded, he’s been hammered. The Kentucky Crowd starts chanting his name as Facey starts pointing in his face.
Roll up by Curiosity!
UNO. DOS. TRE—NO.
Calamity says he’s spotting someone walking through the crowd towards the ringside area near him. Wildstar comments that it’s a man in a black trenchcoat, black hat and sunglasses. In the ring, Curiosity starts climbing the turnbuckles. The man in the trenchcoat pulls out his leg as he gets to the top, Curiosity lands spread-eagled on the turnbuckles. OUCH.
Payne starts yelling at the man and doesn’t see Sars pull something out of his sportsjacket and wrap it around his fist. Facey gets turned around and Sars swings the loaded fist, but Facey blocks it and headbutts him in the nose. Sars stumbles into the ropes, Facey charges him but gets sent up and over…BUT FACEY LANDS ON HIS FEET.
Meanwhile, Sars hits a SHINING AXE KICK to Curiosity on the buckles. Curiosity flips off and lands on his back as Sars covers him for the pin. Payne turns around just at that moment, UNO. DOS. TR—NO. Facey pulls Sars out of the ring and slides back in himself. Facey grabs Curiosity and hooks a Cradle Suplex! UNO. DOS. OOF. Sars springboards with the loaded fist into Facey’s gut.
Doc rolls up staggered, Sars GUTPUNCHES him. The crowd groans as Sars blindly tosses what is revealed to be some taped up contraption…right into Facey’s outstretched grasp. Sars grabs Curiosity and OH BOY.
THE KILLING JOKE
Doc is done. Facey’s putting on the homemade Sars Knucks.
UNO.
DOS.
Facey breaks it up with a right hand to Sars’ skull. Facey tosses the knucks out of the ring and covers Curiosity.
UNO.
DOS.
…TRES.
He may have lasted 90 minutes. “JAH!”
Curiosity gets an ovation as security has to carry him back. Probably the strongest showing in the Gauntlet all things considered, but not enough to win the thing. He does qualify…but it’s down to a sick and twisted duet with Sars needing to draw to qualify. Not that I know how that would work, but this is NFW…I don’t doubt them finding a way.
Facey immediately tries to get the win with a pin cover, but Sars kicks out. Facey rushes to his feet, bounces off the ropes drives a forearm into the back of Sars’ skull. Brings him up to his feet and hits a Wrist-Clutch Exploder Suplex. Facey starts climbing the turnbuckles, but again the man in the trenchcoat makes his presence felt by shaking the ropes. Facey finds himself in the same dire straits as Curiosity before him as Payne barely misses getting a handle on the man at ringside. Payne cutthroat motions after holding up a single finger and pointing at whoever the guy is.
Sars staggers over and takes Facey off the turnbuckles with a Hurricanrana. Sars goes for the pin, UNO. DOS. NO. Facey squirms out and Sars catches him with a Suplex, than vaults onto the apron. SPRINGBOARD ELBOW. Sars not satisfied brings up Facey into a standing headscissors and drops him with a Stump-Puller Piledriver. Facey twitched, the crowd moaned and Sars covered. UNO. DOS. TRE—NO.
Judging by the trenchcoat man’s reaction, Wildstar surmises he’s here to ensure Sars’ victory. Toombs wonders if its Dr. Doom, while Calamity wonders what’s UNDER the trenchcoat. Sars brings up Facey and takes him back down with a Double Arm Suplex. Sars climbs the ropes and hits a Senton Splash off the top. UNO. DOS. TRE—Facey still squirms out of the pin, Sars complaining that he smells like Impulse’s mother’s poop.
Sars grabs the ravaged Facey and slips behind for a possible head and arm suplex, but Facey drops down into a modified jawbreaker counter. Facey’s still down as Sars collapses into the corner in a lot of pain. He starts digging into his pockets as Facey rises to some crowd cheers. He flies into the corner with a facefirst Bronco Buster than proceeds to stomp a mudhole in Sars’ chest.
Facey brings up Sars into a standing position, digging into his eyes…starts biting him, but then Sars whips out some cloth and places it over Facey’s nose…which has the Illustrious One staggering out of the corner cross-eyed, swinging at air, saying hello to Susan Lucci and flopping facefirst on the mat. Sars it’s a flipping legdrop to the back of the neck, kips up and hits a bicycle kick-like SSP across Facey’s back.
He rolls him over, UNO. DOS. TRR—WOW. Kickout by Facey. Sars gets up frustrated and starts climbing the turnbuckles. FROGSPL—SPLAT. Facey rolls out of the way, Sars hits the mat and Facey’s now on his feet and climbing up the turnbuckles. …FROGGY SPLASH! Facey lands on it, he gets to his feet and starts bodybuild posing to the crowd, which erupts and then screams at the trenchcoat man running into the ring. Payne nails him with a kick to the head, knocking off the hat and sunglasses. Payne has him in a chokehold and its none other than BIG BILL JUDO.
The crowd starts booing like crazy ‘cause this must mean that Sars was the masked guy with BBJ from Crash 45…when Joe the Plumber got absolutely BRAINED after calling out Sars in the first place.
ANYWAY. BBJ breaks out of the chokehold with a judo thrust to Payne’s throat which sends him staggering away. BBJ goes for the Wild Axe Bomber on Facey, but Facey ducks out of the way to a crowd roar. Bill turns around takes a dropkick to the chest and flips out of the ring, the crowd now chanting Facey’s name. Facey starts posing to them again and turns around – NUTBUTT.
Sars hits a lunging headbutt right into the groin area of Facey, who doubles over immediately.
KILLING JOKE.
UNO.
DOS.
…
TRES.
Sars wins with the help of Big Bill Judo, who’s back in the ring and about to raise Sars’ hand, but the facepainted freak takes a powder ‘cause Payne crushes Bill from the side with a vicious clothesline. The crowd roars as BBJ stumbles up…
PAYNEKILLAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Sars starts laughing from outside the ring, but then makes a “shh” motion to the crowd and tries to contain his laughter. The crowd roars for Payne who raises his arm in the air, while Sars backpedals to the entrance curtain…nearly bursting and bright red from trying not to laugh at Big Bill as the show closes out.
Originally taped for broadcast: June 15, 2008
(FADEIN: A prison cell. BROCK ALYAS is sitting in it, cracking his knuckles and wearing an orange New Jersey State prison jumpsuit. He looks up as he hears a knock on the bars.)
ALYAS: “Who the hell are you?”
OFF-SCREEN V/O: “The only guy willing to bail out a dumb enough prick to drive down I-95 at 100 miles per hour with a loaded weapon stuffed in his pants.”
ALYAS: (smirking) “What’s the catch?”
(FADETOBLACK)
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
ANDREW ANTHONY V/O: “ESEN – It’s in the ring.”
(A muffled background of crowd cheers, stomps and claps are heard, while the first few seconds of airtime are simply a black screen.)
KERRY O’CONNOR V/O: “For 8 years, New Frontier Wrestling has prided itself as the GREASTEST WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT that the world has EVER seen. 8 years later, off the heels of the immortalized Wrestlestock Two…no wrestling promotion matches OUR EXCELLENCE…and OUR DESIRE to leave everything we’ve got in every arena we visit. So, why don’t we stop? Why aren’t we happy with where we are?”
(SUPERSONIC FAST-FORWARD MONTAGE: WILDSTAR/CAMPBELL in the Vault! BLOODHUNT/ZANE Buried Alive! MONTEZUMA wearing a turban! SOUTHERN accidentally superkicking RYCONIK! MANSON locked in the MONTY’S Tarantula! MANSON in a wheelchair! SOUTHERN raising the World Championship! The NFW Season 1 Draft Class! …all of a sudden, the footage turns black and white, the film bubbling and bursting until there’s nothing but a white screen…and the background crowd noise getting louder – chants of “NF-DUB!” rocking!)
KERRY O’CONNOR V/O: “Because we are now the FOREFATHERS of the WRESTLING REVOLUTION. Because we are now the TEACHERS, the SPIRITUAL LEADERS and the FOUNDATION of where this sport is going to be after where it has come from. What we have learned from those that have FALLEN around us is that our PAST GLORIES mean nothing in the face of a FUTURE GENERATION. That our HERITAGE is our bond in the ring, where the NAMES and FACES should change without fear. We are the seekers of something brilliant and a landscape always changing…for we will always find…THE NEW FRONTIER. ”
(FADEIN: Hershey Arena enveloped in pitch black, while glittering and sparkling like an Appalachian Mountain moonlit night. Camera flashes are flickering, lighters are igniting…)
CROWD: “NF-DUB! NF-DUB! NF-DUB!”
(SFX: The THX rev-up! Crowd roars!)
(CUTTO: THE STAR-TRON blasting white spotlights out of its spokes, which starts swaying and swerving around the arena to a crowd explosion. The CRIMSON STAR of the Wrestling Revolution envelops its screen, while the surrounding SMOKEscreens follow suit.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “HERSHEY AHHHHHHHREEEEEEEENAH! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) YOUUUUUUUUUU HAVE REEEEEEEEACHED GROUND ZERO! AND THIS! ISSSSSSSS! (w/crowd) CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRASH TEEEEEEEEEEEEEE VEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER! BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
(OVERHEAD-CAM: The crowd leaping in a frenzy and shoving their signs towards the ceiling! “TITLE for TITLE! TESTICLES for TITS! NOVA! TQ! Only on ESEN!”, “3 O’CLOCK HIGH? How ‘bout ALL THE TIME HIGH!” “I cut myself watching Suicide King promos!” “BROCK ALYAS was just told to touch his toes!” “Felix Red – Killing Columbia’s drug supply one day at a time! DARE TO BE DIFFERENT!” “CAN I HAS VARGA and LEGION DEATHMATCH PLEASE?” The camera rises up towards the rafters amidst the showering sparks from the exploding pyrotechnics. CUTTO: KERRY O’CONNOR and LAMONT HOLLYWOOD standing inside the ring as fireworks explode everywhere! H’WOOD smiles brightly, his gold-rimmed sunglasses accentuated by his white Panama slacks, matching sportcoat/shoes (no socks), white and gold trimmed collared shirt with a mid-length matching ascot. O’CONNOR looks out the crowd with a wide smile and wearing his signature navy jacket and khaki pants combo.)
O’CONNOR: “Its good to be BACK in Pennsylvania, Woodman! We’re looking at a cold, smooth CRASH ‘COLT 45’ TELEVISION SPECIAL! (loud pop!) We’ve got a bevy of not only star-studded matches and wild possibilities emanating from each and every match – but starting from the Tag Team Title main event all the way through the Grand Prix qualifiers, there’s a lot of blood brewing from Wrestlestock Two (LOUD POP!) and our survival of one month in the Big Apple! (LOUD BOOS!) Now, we begin our summer-long trek to SUPERCRASH 2 and it’s already hot as HELL in the New Frontier!”
H’WOOD: “Y’know something, Beanfry…I look at all these fans hating on New York and I’ve got no doubts on why we’re not looking at a bevy of porkers in the audience tonight. Instead, we’ve got a bunch of sugar-cracked out, cow tipping in-bred hicks. (LOUD BOOS!) That being said, even though that’s at the heart of Rayne and DC’s peoples, in the main event tonight…The HOLLYWOOD Wrecking Crew will get REVENGE once and for all!”
O’CONNOR: (over boos!) “I don’t know about Lamont, considering the recent absence of Calvin Carlton…I’d suspect the field has been leveled so to speak.”
H’WOOD: “The field is NEVER level as long as an OXONIAN stands on it…unless he’s riding a horse, of course.”
O’CONNOR: “That’s not all we’ve got! Only in NFW will you find a Tag Team Championship match with so much hatred that it’d supersede NOVA and TERESA QUARANTA from engaging in TITLE VS. TITLE Warfare! (LOUD CHEERS!) We could have three new champions out of two title matches tonight. The UNDEFEATED Quaranta takes on the volatile World Champion who paved the way for Dan Ryan’s EXODUS out of New Frontier Wrestling.”
H’WOOD: “Have we had a physician ask Teresa to cough yet?”
O’CONNOR: “Um, no.”
H’WOOD: “We should, just to be sure. There’s just something hanging around her that I don’t trust.”
O’CONNOR: “Speaking of trust, there’s a special 6-man tag match with title shots on the line as the ‘Old School’ of Jason Payne, Cameron Cruise and Triple X take on the ‘New School’ in the Dream Team and Brock Alyas. Only if you haven’t heard Alyas was ARRESTED two days ago and we’re still not sure if he’s going to make the show or not!”
H’WOOD: “Well, that’s what he gets for promoting the show on the open streets with a loaded weapon and not checking if he’s scared any grandmothers spying out their windows.”
O’CONNOR: “That’s how the story went down as she called in Alyas’ plates, then New Jersey state troopers pulled him over for doing nearly 100 down I-95. It seems he’s been bailed out, but we have no further information on the matter.”
H’WOOD: “The Wrestling Revolution: Fighting for a Nuttier Second Amendment.”
O’CONNOR: “Speaking of nuts, Rook Black…The Uber Judge…Steve Knox. An AWESOME Triple Threat match that will determine the challenger to the National Championship on our next Crash Television show! Nova, Teresa Quaranta…whoever loses their match faces the winner of this one. Knox was just named June’s Wrestler of the Month and the Uber Judge has made his presence felt early. Meanwhile, Rook Black doesn’t seem to like the Uber Judge particularly much either.”
H’WOOD: “If I tried to wrap my brain around that situation, it’d start frying like bacon. I do know that Felix Red is the ONLY person who knows the identity of the Uber Judge, but I don’t know if I’d trust his eyes on remembering anything.”
O’CONNOR: “Felix will have to deal with his own issues as we’ve got a panel of judges here for the Grand Prix qualifiers. While there are three separate matches happening tonight, the judges are on hand to seed out the actual tournament based on each wrestler’s performance in the ring.”
(CUTTO: WILDSTAR at ringside, waving at the camera…NATHAN STORM, a former Diamond Exchange member sitting stone-faced beside him.)
O’CONNOR: “That’s one of the judges in Wildstar. The three matches tonight will be, IMPULSE vs. ALMASY, LEGION vs. LORD COYNER POLLARD (boos!) and JAMES VARGA (BOOS!) vs. FELIX RED! (cheers!) Each in their own right should be VERY interesting.”
H’WOOD: “Well…we know the results of some, Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “Well, its supposed to be a surprise.”
H’WOOD: “I’ll give you a surpr—“
(SFX: DOGS BARKING!)
H’WOOD: “What the deuce?”
(CUE: “Dog Shit” – Wu-Tang Clan)
[Ol Dirty Bastard]
All y'all bitches put your naps together
And all you (BLEEP!) put your dicks together, bitch
[Ol Dirty starts singing]
Hoeeeee! Yah ha heh
De, hayyyy! Ah ha he hay
De, haaaaa! Errr hah hahhhr
Haaaaaaaah He hawww, heahh
(CUTTO: The curtain parts and JOE THE PLUMBER makes his arrival, head bandaged up, dragging the TV championship belt behind him. QUICK CUTTO: O’CONNOR and H’WOOD both looking shaken!)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “I-I-I am saving this outfit!”
(H’WOOD bolts out of the ring, O’CONNOR hesitates for a second and then follows suit, but leaves his microphone in the ring. The crowd roars as JTP stands tall! It’s been a while since NFW fans have seen the self-proclaimed Sucka-Free Bouse, and in that time, he’s been laid up in a comatose state, biding his time, waiting, preparing to make his return as soon as, you know, he woke up and got his legs working again. Those little sh*ts were like jelly. JOE steps through the ropes and fetches the mic left from O’CONNOR, before walking back over and standing in the centre of the ring.)
JTP: “All right, OKKAAAYYY, settle ya’selves ya little friggers! Ol’ Joe has some shit on his mind that needs speakin’ and he ain’t gonna wait around while y’all pleasure ya’selves to the outline of my dick in my brand-new, swanky coveralls… the denim needs time to loosen as my old pair had to be cut from my body on account`a the fact that when I arrived at the hospital my whole entire body has swelled up to twice its normal size… dunno why, dunno how… but I gots the stretch marks to prove it!
“Now, Ol’ Joe’s a bit crabby havin’ just woke up six hours ago and flown in ‘ere on a shitty ass, neglectful, racist airplane where they wouldn’t serve me ma’ mid-flight shot of patron… and why? Well, maybe ‘cuz I was already polluted when I arrived at the airport, but who the f*ck gets to make THAT decision, eh? It’s like, ‘Sure, I’m hammed, I’m REALLY hammed if ya wanna get real about it – but maybe, just maybe, I need one more drink to set my nerves at ease… YOU GON’ DENY ME THAT, AIRWAITRESSES? HUH? YA GONNA DENY OL’ JOE, WHO’S BEEN LAID UP FOR GOD KNOWS HOW LONG, THE BEVERAGE OF HIS CHOOSING?’
“Ah friggg afffffff…. that’s bullshit!”
(JOE’s begun to pace. It’s plain to see that he’s worked himself into a frenzied mess just now in true JTP fashion and has completely lost track of what he’d wanted to say. Suddenly he stops and raises a vertical finger to the audience.)
JTP: “Ah yeah, `BOUT THAT WRESTLESTOCK BUSINESS…
“So, on the plane ride over here, to distract myself from the altitude and the kid next to me that smelled like piss, I watched some of the unedited WrestleStock footage that the company sent me… guess they wanted me to know what’s what and who the f*cker was that put Ol’ Joe on the shelf…”
(JOE turns to the nearest camera, gets up right close to its lens, and snarls – like the grizzled beast that he is.)
JTP: “CLOWN, I’M LOOKIN’ AT YOU!”
(JOE reaches up and TEARS the bandage from around his head; underneath, a fully healed scar.)
JTP: “If ya think for one second that you put Ol’ Joe out of commission for good, you’re dumber and crazier than I am! Y’see, `cuz I’m un-killable! CAN’T BE KILLED! And the funny thing is, even though you smashed open my skull like a watermelon and gave me brain damage, YOU - DID - NOT - WIN!
“YA STUPID F*CK, YA LOST! YA LOST! NO BELT FOR YOU! YA TRIEEED, YA FOUGHT TO THE BURGER, YA DID EVERY DIRTY, NASTY, PERVERTED TRICK IN THE BOOK… AND YA COULDN’T BEAT JOE! SO THE SIMPLE FACT OF THE MATTER IS, I’M NOT ONLY UNBEATABLE, I’M UN-KILLABLE! TWENTY-NINE OTHER MEN COULDN’T STOP THE PANDEMIC THAT IS JOE THE PLUMBER! MANAGEMENT WAS SCREAMIN’, CRYIN’, PISSIN’ THEIR ALREADY PISS-SOAKED PANTIES, WANTIN’ SOMEONE, ANYONE, TO STEP UP AND BEAT ME `CUZ I AIN’T MARKETABLE, I AIN’T PRETTY; I AM, HOWEVER, A BUCKET OF OOZING FILTH JUST WAITIN’ TO BE STEPPED IN! BECAUSE WHEN YA PISS OL’ JOE OFF, WHEN YOU TRESSPASS ON ‘IM, YA GET GOT FROM ALL AVENUES!”
(JOE’s emotional, maniacal tirade elicits another massive POP from the crowd, as he huffs and puffs back to relative coherence, almost keeled over from the non-stop ranting at the top of his lungs.)
JTP: “Clown, you’re first on my list. The rest of the fuckers that were present at the end of the match – that Mike Cocks fella, that Impulse fella – they’re secondary to me. Simply put, they ain’t got what it takes to even challenge me. I’m a beast, I’d eat them alive one-on-one… but clown, you and I were practically MADE for each other… I look at you, with yer make-up and yer tight pants, and I think, ‘If I was gay – like if I was into men – we’d probably f*ck backstage on a regular basis and it’d be a dirty little secret that you and I share.’ BUT I DON’TZ LIKE MEN AND I AIN’TZ GAY, AND YOU SIR ARE MAKING ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY! SO IN JOE’S MIND THAT’S A FULL ON BLITZ ON EVERYTHING THAT I REGARD AS TRUTH! I WANNA BEAT THE ROUGE FROM YER CHEEKS, I WANNA SLAP THE LIPSTICK FROM YER MOUTH, I WANNA PULL OUT – NAY, HAUL OUT – MY RAVENOUS COCK AND WHIP YOU WITH IT TILL YER A PUDDLE OF LIQUID FAG ON THE MAT! YOU MAY BE A WORTHY ADVERSARY – YOU MAY BE A BEAST IN YER OWN RIGHT – BUT WHAT YOU *AIN’T* IS JOE THE PLUMBER… AND WHAT YOU *AIN’T* IS THE MAN WHO’S GONNA TAKE MY TITLE!”
(JOE looks as though he’s about to drop the mic and make his exit, but stops and brings the mic back up to his lips, turning back in mid-stride to face the crowd…)
JTP: “And one last thing…
“NOVA.”
(CROWD EXPLOSION! JOE’s face twitches…)
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you either, ya prick. You’re still public enemy number one for Ol’ Joe! When the time comes for you and I to meet... and believe me I’ve been BEGGING AND PLEADING for my shot at yer title… I’m gonna be ready. I already hold a victory over yer mangy ass… something very few people can say… so one way or another, whether I have to hold someone at gunpoint or break a face with an ice cream scoop… I’ll GET my shot! You can’t duck me forever, Nova, you know it and I know it! One day you’ll run out of places to hide… yer like fuckin’ Ann Frank and I’m like the Nazis… a whole big mess of Nazis… only this time you’re gonna get found and when ya do you’re gonna get EVERYTHING taken from you, just like you took everything from me way, way back when I was just a boy! You’re gonna get your pride, your dignity, your manginity, your MOTHERF*CKIN’ LIIIIIFEEE, and last but CERTAINLY not least YOUR CHAMPIONSHIP taken from you… I’m gonna rape and pillage my way to the top and you will undoubtedly prove to be my greatest bounty! I WILL CHERISH THAT MOMENT FOREVER AND EVER! IT WILL BE SO, SOOO SWEET!”
(CUE: “Dog Shit” – Wu-Tang Clan)
(The mic dropped the canvas with a resounding BZZZzzzzt~!.
As Joe went to leave, someone – actually TWO someones – discretely entered the ring from the opposite side…BIG BILL JUDO on one side, a mysterious black masked man on the other who is holding a chair!
O’CONNOR: (over audio screech) “Welcome to Crash TV! Welcome to hysteria! And Joe the Plumber may have to welcome his arch-nemesis Big Bill Judo! (LOUD CHEERS!) JOE TURNS AROUND! BILL HAS TO STOP IN HIS TRACKS!”
H’WOOD: (over headphone crackling) “Y’know, after 45 shows you’d expect things to go normally!”
O’CONNOR: “Joe’s got Judo wrapped around the throat! Big Bill was the man that helped FINANCE the Television Title Royale because of some longstanding grudge he’s held with Joe over the last decade! I think he was out here for revenge! (cheers!) But now he’s getting a couple of headbutts to his noggin’ for the trouble! Bill with a wild right, Joe ducks! (loud cheers!) Inverted Atomic Drop by the Television Champion Bill’s cross-legged, Joe’s raising his arm in the air!”
(THWACK! LOUD BOOS!)
O’CONNOR: “OHHHHHHHHHHH! That masked man just BLASTED Joe across the back of the head with that chairshot!”
H’WOOD: “And you know it was a good one since the chairseat just hit some poor sap in the second row…”
O’CONNOR: “WAIT! NO! (loud groans!) Oh god, the masked man just jackhammered the chairframe into Joe’s head! He’s laughing maniacally in the ring, he’s higher-pitched than a hyena! Bill’s rolling out of the ring to crowd boos, the masked man’s leaving Joe behind…”
(CLOSEUP: JOE’S eyes fluttering, froth foaming out of his mouth…blood seeping out of his head bandage…)
O’CONNOR: “Dear God…we’ll be right back.”
CUT TO: Outside the Hershey Arena. A dingy 4-Runner zips up to the loading dock, and smoke billows out into the warm summer Pennsylvania as NOVA and his long-time industry pal (and the only person who makes the EAGLEstar into the ‘straight man’ by comparison!) the ILLUSTRIOUS FACE-EATER and TIME BABY climb out. The NFW World Heavyweight Champion is covered in soot, and parts of his hair and beard are singed. He begins storming off angrily towards the side entrance, a fact that escapes FACEY until he looks up from tending to the still-lit blunt in his hands.)
I.F.E.: “Heeeey bro, if you don't wanna blaze, it's chill - but please don't try and ditch me again! I'm afraid of loneliness!”
(NOVA spins around, jabbing a finger towards the FACE-EATER.)
NOVA: “I don’t really wanna talk to you right now. I’m going inside to get cleaned up and ready for my TITLE DEFENSE in an hour or two.”
(FACEY sprints up ahead of NOVA and puts one arm out in a halting gesture. The other, naturally, is cradling TIME BABY, who is smiling like a miniature ****-head.)
I.F.E.: “Hey, are you peeved about the lake cabin? That place was a SHACK, dude."
NOVA: "It was over 3,500 square feet!"
I.F.E.: "...I say good riddance. The Time Baby Bandits probably did you a solid by-”
NOVA: (Covering his ears) “Gaaah, enough, enough!! I don’t know what the F(BLEEP!)K you’re talking about! I have to go defend the WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP and I look like a friggin’ chimney sweep! Before you blew a hole in the front door of what USED to be my house I was actually wishing for a friend to come along and help STABILIZE my head, not inject it full of more Fantasy Land BULLSH-”
(SFX: BOOOOOOOOOOM~!!! Without warning the 4-Runner explodes, flipping over onto its side and belching a fireball into the air. NOVA and FACEY are thrown backwards onto the pavement. The EAGLEstar turns to the FACE-EATER, who’s grinning in that “Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ ta do” kind of way. TIME BABY, meanwhile, is miraculously unscathed and still smiling aimlessly. And why should there be a reason? He's a ****ing baby, and probably extremely stimulated.)
NOVA: “I think you were sent to punish me for what happened in Randalls’ locker room.”
I.F.E.: “You think this is MY fault?!”
NOVA: “Somehow, at the end of the day, Face? Yeah, I do.”
I.F.E.: "HEY. I told you to stop ranting. I AM THE ONE THAT RANTS. Every-motherf(bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep)itch-fisting-time that YOU do it, something blows up!"
NOVA: "No, something blows up any time you take a g(BLEEP!)ddamn breath!"
I.F.E.: " I -"
(SFX: KICKWHAMBLADOW! All of the NFW REVOLUTION Loading Trucks EXPLODE, heralding the opening of a large Time Portal in the center of the destruction.)
NOVA: "What did I just say!?"
I.F.E.: "SHUT UP AND RUN, FOOL. Colapsis and the UnFunky Bandits of Time are here for the Time Baby!"
NOVA: (Under his breath) "I am way to pissed off to note how awesome that would be for a band name."
(NOVA and FACEY w/ TIME BABY begin sprinting towards the arena, ignoring the security guards that stand at the entrance who are far too captivated by the Time Portal to notice the World Champ, his lackey and a baby run past. They make it safely inside before any one can step out of the Portal. But it isn't long before the two awe-stricken guards are graced with the presence of COLAPSIS THE UNFUNKY, graced in armor that renders him the part of a second-rate Lord Zed, and his army of TIME BANDITS.
If you're imagining what a TIME BANDIT looks like, just think of the Smokers from 'Waterworld', only dirtier, and you're pretty much there.)
COLAPSIS: "KILL THE BABY!"
SECURITY GUARD #1: (to SECURITY GUARD #2) "Are you sure these Mollys aren't bunk?"
(FADE TO BLACK, then...)
(FADEIN: Back LIVE! and the Hershey Revolution is SLAMMIN as the crowd is going to town… and by that I mean that there’s more chronic smoke in the air than spotlights and you’d be a monkeys uncle to believe they ain’t enough spotlights to give the average oriental boy a 15 minute seizure.)
O’CONNOR: “Welcome back fans. We had two dark matches this evening for the Grand Prix qualifiers…we’re going to show you James Varga vs. Felix Red in its entirety, then the finish to Lord Coyner Pollard taking on Legion.”
H’WOOD: “And I thought NFW had stopped testing animals.”
O’CONNOR: “Sit back and enjoy folks, when we return after these matches – it’ll be Impulse vs. Almasy LIVE!”
(QUICK CUTTO: LEE-BABY standing in the ring, the words “Earlier this evening…” transposed for a moment.)
LEE-BABY SIMS: “This next match coming to you live is featuring two combatants competing to qualify for the GRAND PRIX TOURNAMENT THAT HAS KICKED OFF HERE IN HERSHEY!”
H’WOOD: “ANYBODY… ANYBODY but James Varga… please,”
(CUEUP – Halloween 2. Hallo-F*CKING-ween 2 theme. Whose coming out? MICHAEL MYERS. No… instead it’s James Varga. Yes, James Varga.)
LEE-BABY SIMS: “On his way to the ring, standing six foot, one inch tall… weighing in at two-hundred thirty five pounds wrestling out of Las VEGAS , NEVADA … he is “The Violator” JAMES… VARRRGAAAA!”
O’CONNOR: “Well the fans here couldn’t be more… monotone for the fact that were about to see Mr. James Varga in action here. He’s a fire-starter indeed and a costly mistake could make for Varga’s advancement in this tournament, HOLLYWOOD ”
H’WOOD: “He’s a chump. I can’t wait ‘til we see who he’s up against,”
(CUEUP – “Vicarious” by Tool and that means only one thing. FELIX RED. The arena’s source of electricity is cut off as some of the whacks are actually attempting to take pictures as flashes are seen all around the arena. The song kicks into life before the Hershey Arena literally turns an incarnation of WoodStock and fans all around are head bangin’, snortin’ Hollywoods (most are using their cell-phones as lighting so they don’t miss a crum.) and taking any kind of methamphetamine you could name.)
LEE-BABY SIMS: “WEIGHING IN AT… TWO-HUNDRED TWENTY-THREE POUNDS AND STANDING AT SIX-FEET TWO-INCHES… HE IS… FELIX…. REEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD!”
H’WOOD: “Oh man… believe it or not, O’CONNOR – I’m pretty stoked about this match-up. I mean, it doesn’t matter who gets the tar kicked out of ‘em! AHA!”
O’CONNOR: “I’d love to know when it ever has mattered to you, but none the less we’ve got what looks to be a pretty… violent match-up as we have “The Violator” taking on a man very well deserving of that nick-name and argueably so quite possibly the most perverse, sick and twisted athlete in sports entertainment,”
H’WOOD: “He’s sick alrite… CUT THAT HAIR ALLREADY, MEAT”
(CLOSEUP – FELIX RED being searched for foreign objects as he’s looking right thru JAMES VARGA with a malicious smile on his face as he licks his lips making VARGA feel quite uncomfortable with making eye contact.)
O’CONNOR: “There’s the bell and let’s wait and see who gets out on-top first here, LAMONT. Both men circling the ring awaiting the other to make a move before VARGA… OH MAN! VARGA went in for the leg-sweep but he was DENIED! FELIX RED with a brilliant kick to the head sent VARGA into la-la land and I don’t think he’s got any plans about leaving soon!”
H’WOOD: “Oh yeah, early mistake there by VARGA. I mean, you can’t approach FELIX RED like that, what are ya new around here!?”
O’CONNOR: “New he is but say what you’d like about the man… he sure knows how to stir up a pot if you know what I mean! … VARGA happens to slip out of FELIX RED’s headlock attempt and sends himself into the opposing ropes hoping for some leverage and a takedown in his favour! RED determines VARGAs move and runs in the same direction using the second rope to backflip over VARGA as he tightly follows… FELIX RED LATCHES ONTO VARGAS HEAD AND TAKES HIM DOWN QUICKLY TO THE MAT!”
H’WOOD: “OH BABY! That was nearly a reverse DDT, meat!”
O’CONNOR: “Whatever it was, it worked! The unorthadox FELIX RED has bought himself some time to soak up in the glory of his fans showing their appreication.”
H’WOOD: “Is that somebody getting their nipple peirced at ring-side during a FELIX RED match?”
O’CONNOR: “Meanwhile in the ring VARGA squirms out of a pinfall attempt as FELIX slams his hand to the match at the fact he couldn’t put this one away early. FELIX gets back to his feet to acknowledge the fans for a quick second to turn around and OH MAN! RECEIVE A DROP KICK SQUARE IN THE NOSE”
H’WOOD: “YEAH BOY!”
O’CONNOR: “VARGA’s back on his feet stomping mudholes into the back of FELIX’s head as RED attempts covering up. RED wisely takes the bout to the ground with a quick leg sweep and VARGA gets out of harms way by evading anything further by sliding out of the ring. FELIX looks directly in the eyes of VARGA before scaling the rest of the crowd with a menacing smile on his face. RED walks towards the apron as the count continues past 15 and REDs looking to make VARGA pay for any attempt anywhere near the ring!”
(CLOSEUP – VARGA being drenched in a front-row spectator and just as VARGA turns you can catch FELIX RED ascending the nearest turnbuckle in the corner of the screen.)
H’WOOD: “HEADS UP!”
O’CONNOR: “OH MY GAWWWWD! FELIX RED JUST JUMPED OFF THE TOP TURNBUCKLE AND DELIVERED A SPINNING HEEL KICK TO THE BACK OF VARGA’S HEAD! The crowd is going wild and I’m not sure how worthy that leap of faith really was as both men are laid out ringside. The official continues the count past 12 and FELIX begins to stir with the evil grin he’s had on his face the entire night. The fans are eating it up as FELIX sends VARGA back into the ring by his hair.”
H’WOOD: “Oh MAN! VARGA’s locks aren’t going to feel good tomorrow!”
O’CONNOR: “FELIX has VARGA in the ring right where he wants him before… is that LEGION and LUCI4?”
H’WOOD: “I think so! I think LEIGON wants his say in this Grand Prix Qualifier match-up!”
O’CONNOR: “I think so, LAMONT. Legion’s scheduled to do battle later in the show! LEGION and LUCI4 are slowly creeping down the ramp way as VARGA and RED battle in the ring for position. VARGA’s desperately trying to fight his way out of the corner and does so nicely with a nice heel stomp to RED’s foot before kicking him in the mid-section and using the Implant DDT to perfection! VARGA checks for a second before noticing that LUCI4 and LEGION are each surrounding the ring… VARGA’s livid but looks to remain with the task-on-hand in delivering punishment any way how to FELIX RED!”
H’WOOD: “He’s going to have to find some type of pain FELIX RED DOESN’T enjoy. Good luck, with that…’cause I think it involves Mormon rehab.”
O’CONNOR: “VARGA shoots a dazed RED into the corner before following and being sidetracked as RED nails a perfectly timed mule kick. LEGION wastes no time getting onto the canvas staring daggers through VARGA before he finally notices and attempts a clothesline that sends both men over the ropes and leaves FELIX RED in the centre of the ring!”
H’WOOD: “As if THE VIOLATOR had enough problems, he now has to deal with LUCI4 stomping mudholes in ‘em! HAH!”
O’CONNOR: “Well VARGA went from a kamikaze mission in facing FELIX RED to now being mugged by the Devil’s Rejects. Legion’s stumbling up and joining the party! The official passes the 5 count as FELIX RED is sitting pretty letting the two outside do his job for him and let the count run down. VARGA finally fights off LEGION before getting onto the canvas and…”
CLOSEUP – SHINING THUNDER… FROM HELL.
O’CONNOR: “OH SWEET MOTHER MARY! SHINING WIZAHHHHHHHHHHHHD! FELIX RED timed it perfectly and just as VARGA avoided the count-out! RED WITH THE COVER! ONNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
(FLASH CUTTO: Back LIVE! O’CONNOR and H’WOOD at ringside…)
O’CONNOR: “FELIX RED with a big win and automatic berth into the Grand Prix with the victory. The Devil’s Rejects hightailed it out of there afterwards, but they were the next match up…and we’re going to join that one in progress. LEGIONS picking VARGA up to throw him back inside the ring and FELIX RED places a foot over his chest as the official finishes the three-count.”
H’WOOD: “Y’know, I’m not going to come out and shortchange Varga completely here. If we put him on some Ritalin, so he could focus on one thing at a time…not anger a whole federation…these things wouldn’t happen!”
O’CONNOR: “Well, I don’t know if he helped his cause with Legion or Lord Coyner Pollard or the actual regime in service as you’ll see with the conclusion of this next match.”
(FLASH CUTTO: ’JOINED IN PROGRESS’ LEGION vs. LORD COYNER POLLARD – 8:15. POLLARD is looking wild-eyed in shock as LEGION is almost falling out of the ring in the turnbuckles.)
O’CONNOR: “The man known as Legion almost turned this match around literally, reversing the English Whip into the corners by Pollard, but he misses with the leaping avalanche!”
H’WOOD: “Legion needs to settle down in the ring, he’s wrestling like gangbusters and looks like he’s having way too much fun in there…”
O’CONNOR: “Pollard slipping behind Legion and hooks him! (BOOS!) Back to Belly Suplex, Pollard holds on with a bridge! ONNNNNNNE! TWO! NO! Legion rolls out of it to break up the pinfall attempt!”
(CUTTO: LUCI4 slapping her hand on the mat, trying to pump up her tag partner!)
O’CONNOR: “Luci’s made her presence felt throughout the whole evening, helping Legion gain advantages in this match…but it may be all for naught. Pollard working over Legion with a reverse chinlock, placing his knee in the small of Legion’s back and the Hershey Arena…surprisingly has gotten behind Legion in this match.”
H’WOOD: “Are you joking Beanfry? I mean what were the odds out here? Cheering for the meth-head or the distinguished gentleman?”
O’CONNOR: “Legion fighting up to his feet and OOF! Elbow to the gut! Another! Legion breaks free and runs off the ropes – OOF! Pollard counters with a kitchen sink knee to the gut! Pollard with a cover! ONE! TWO! THRNO! Legion kicks out and Pollard’s on him like a fly on paper…the Lord of Wessex slips behind Legion and hooks a waistlock – POPS THE HIPS INTO AN ENGLISH SUPLEX WITH A BRIDGE! ONNNNNNNE! TWO! LEGION KICKS OUT AGAIN!”
(CLOSEUP: POLLARD rushing to his feet and arguing with the referee about a slow count, when all of a sudden LEGION rolls him up!)
O’CONNOR: “Legion with a roll-up out of nowhere! (LOUD CHEERS!) HE’S GOT THE TIGHTS! ONNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEENO! POLLARD ROLLS OUT! BOTH MEN UP! And Legion hooks a small package! ONE! TW—Pollard grabs the tights to REVERSE it! ONE! TW—LUCI4 just leaned through the ropes and pushed them over again! ONNNNNNE! TWO! POLLARD KICKS OUT! Both men scrambling up and Legion goes for a Hurrican—NO! (groans!) Legion hits the mat as Pollard backed out of there, he’s got the Devil’s Reject by the legs and flips over into a Jackknife Pin! ONE! TWO! (loud cheers!) LEGION BRIDGES OUT! TURNS IT OVER AND LIFTS POLLARD UHHHHHHHHHHHHP! (LOUD EXPLOSION!) PIIIIIIIIIIILEDRIVAHHHHHHHHHHH! POLLARD’S TWITCHING! LEGION’S GASSED!”
H’WOOD: “And we’re not talking about the fact that he huffs glue, gas and nitrous at the same time!”
O’CONNOR: “Referee Scott Speranza starting the standing ten count! If neither man answers, this match is over!”
H’WOOD: (over crowd stomps!) “This is just the classic case of the meek trying to inherit the earth. Well, I don’t think it matters how many Legion has…he’s still an unwashed vagrant that has no chance against the crux of higher society!”
O’CONNOR: “Pollard on his knees…but Legion’s pulling himself up by the ropes, this could be a major upset if Legion is able to pull this out. Pollard stumbling up to his feet as Legion leans on the ropes and he’s charging – LOOK OUT! (crash! Cheers!) Pollard up and over, lands on his feet…but the momentum sends him crashing into the barricade! Speranza starting the countout, but now Legion’s pulling him aside…and here comes Luci! (LOUD CRASH! CHEERS!) SPINNING LEG LARIAT SENDING POLLARD INTO THE CROWD!”
H’WOOD: “I don’t understand how this crowd can boo Legion and then all of a sudden decide to cheer him right now!”
O’CONNOR: “I’m not sure he’s the lesser of two evils, but when Lord Coyner Pollard is deriding our country in his pre-match speech…I don’t think he’s going to enthuse anyone.”
H’WOOD: “He was making political commentary!”
O’CONNOR: “He said the fact we voted Bush for our President proves that we’re a country of kissing cousins!”
H’WOOD: “Have you BEEN to the Midwest lately? Whatever started in West Virginia after the colonists kicked them OFF the coast has gotten WAY worse up until…just about Vegas.”
O’CONNOR: “Oh yeah, that place is normal. Luci’s added in a few stomps and kicks to Pollard as he tumbles over the barricade, meanwhile, Legion’s let go of Speranza…he’s outside the ring and propping up a table against the apron. Legion picking up Pollard with help from Luci4…LOOK OUT! (CRACK! GROANS!) A modified Double Urange through the table against the apron! Pollard is screaming in pain, Speranza’s out there and trying to get Luci4 away from the scene – warning her one more interference and she’s banned from ringside…”
H’WOOD: “NFW rules are murky folks, unless you get signed to the ‘PRO-WRES’ stipulation, the discretion of referees is about as wide as Beanfry’s choice of overweight hookers on Wednesday Nights. He likes BBW, Big South-Asian egg rolls, German Krauts…its quite avante-garde in some respects.”
O’CONNOR: “Legion rolling back Pollard into the ring…he’s got a piece of that table and I don’t think Legion knows it! (CROWD SCREAMS!) Pollard with a bumrush and he cracks Legion in the head with it! The Devil’s Reject is staggering around the ring, Pollard lining him up! (SCREAMS!) NOOOOO! LEGION DUCKS! SIDE-RUSSIAN FACEBUSTER! Legion spins around, he’s going for the Curbst—“
(QUICK CUTTO: JAMES VARGA sliding into the ring with a chair! He pops to his feet and THHHHHHWACK! LEGION gets DESTROYED with a chairshot to the back of his skull! LOUD BOOS erupt around the arena!)
O’CONNOR: “VARRRRRRRGA! THE VIOLATOR IS BACK OUT HERE! Luci4’s on the top rope – (THWACK!) OHHHHHH MERCY! VARGA SIDESTEPS THE MISSILE DROPKICK!”
H’WOOD: “Well, I don’t think her face is going to get any prettier with that chairshot to it…dare I say, Legion’s really going to need Felix’s drugs to bang her tonight?”
O’CONNOR: “Speranza’s calling for the bell! (SFX: BELL RINGING! LOUD BOOS!) This is completely insane! Varga’s stomping a mudhole into Legion’s skull! OH NO! Arm! Shoulder! Chest! Stomach! Rib! Left Leg! Right Leg! GROIN! (groans!) FACESTOMP! THE VARGA STOMP! LEGION’S OUT! And lookit this – VARGA’S POINTING TO THE TURNBUCKLES! (LOUD CHEERS!) WAIT! WAIT! HERE COMES SECURITY! They’ve tackled Varga down!”
(CUTTO: EDDIE MAYFIELD and CRAIG MILES walking down the ramp slowly in their respective ‘officer’ uniforms. MAYFIELD’s accentuated by his Presidential Cigar, Sash, Che Guevara hat and Home Fireball Kit Bat-Belt. MILES has his silver sunglasses and is holstered with a mini-acetyline torch on his left and skull/crossbones labeled aerosol can on his right. Both men have little pockets filled with matches, Zippos and god-knows-what.)
O’CONNOR: “Speranza is raising Legion’s hand in victory, I think he’s awarding this via disqualification!”
H’WOOD: “That’s completely unfair! UNDIGNIFIED!”
(CUTTO: COJONES MERCADO, NFW Chief of Security…steps into the ring first, surveying the scene as he holds up his trademark weapon – a steel chair with a spraypainted Devil’s Horn hand symbol crossed out in a No-Smoking fashion.)
O’CONNOR: “This can’t be good for ANY parties involved.”
H’WOOD: “What about the Lord?!? Why are you no-selling the fact that he’s been FU(BLEEP!)KED!?”
O’CONNOR: “Mercado motioning for Craig Miles and Eddie Mayfield to stand inside the squared circle. The self-professed Six-Star General and El Presidente look disgusted at the current scene. (boos!) Oh dear Lamont, you may like this…Mayfield is CHECKING on Lord Coynard Pollard to make sure that he is ok.”
H’WOOD: “FINALLY! Idiots like you and the fans in this arena don’t see the future of this sport as how it SHOULD be versus what it is becoming! These men will take a stand where they can, when they can…that is the only reason the Wrestling Revolution is bigger than every single drug addict we’ve gotten in the upper tier of this insanity.”
O’CONNOR: “Alright, calm down Woodman….we’ve got Craig Miles grabbing the microphone as Mayfield and Pollard converse, the Lord seeming to get the rundown of something…and by the looks that he’s nodding approvingly, I can only imagine what’s going on here.”
(CLOSEUP: MILES looking out to the Hershey Arena crowd, which buzzes loudly. His trademark smirk widens on his face as the crowd starts chanting “THEY F*CKED UP! THEY F*CKED UP!” MILES looks down at LEGION still shaking out cobwebs as VARGA’s currently on his knees, in the firing squad position for COJONES MERCADO who’s grinning like a shark.)
MILES: “I suppose now is the best time to explain some more of the NFW GRAND PRIX as well as the OFFICIAL results of this match. (LOUD CHEERS!) See gentlemen, there is a certain discipline that will be required from each wrestler. I appreciate your spontaneity, weaponry and the sheer lack of morality required for bountiful bloodshed…(MILES wipes a tear from his eye) However, the continuing INTERFERENCE just cannot be apart of the Grand Prix. Legion and Luci4 had provoked Varga earlier, Varga responded in just retaliation. Both of your next CRASH matches will involve each other to end this SH(BLEEP!)T. Believe me on that. In the meantime you both are DISQUALIFIED and Lord Coyner Pollard will ADVANCE to the 2008 Grand Prix tournament.”
(LOUD BOOS! MILES pulls out his cigarette case and slowly lights up, then exhales a smoke ring.)
MILES: “He will join Felix Red as the first two competitors officially in a month long tournament that will be holding its second round of qualifiers at a SPECIAL UNDERGROUND show at FREEDOM HALL for our early Independence Day Party. To qualify for the Grand Prix, NINE MEN will wrestle in a GAUNTLET match that will have three wrestlers in the ring at the SAME time.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Was that English at the end?”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “Shh! Its hard enough understanding with you talking over him!”
MILES: (over crowd buzz!) “To QUALIFY, each wrestler will need to get a PINFALL as we go through each nine men ELIMINATION style rules until we’re all finished. The nine men competing are some of the world’s best cruiserweights from around the world. Some have competed in our federation in the past such as SHAWN HART or ‘SIMPLY BEAUTIFUL’. (LOUD BOOS!) Others such as HIGH FLYER (LOUD POP!) DOCTOR CURIOSITY…”
(MILES exhales a smoke ring as the crowd is LOUD!)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “Those are some names that are known around the world, Lamont.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “People are still playing City of Heroes aren’t they?”
MILES: “…will meet their NFW counterparts in SARS and PROFESSOR TREMENDOUS. (crowd cheers!) …BUT…I’m thinking with our three latest worldwide finds in ‘The ILLUSTRIOUS’ (coughs”Manpie”coughs) FACEEATER, JAY (coughs”Tonto”coughs) PHOENIX and DIGITAL (coughs”he’scool”coughs) MORTALITY will prove that the WRESTLING REVOLUTION is about to hit MACH FOUR-BLINITY beyond ANYONE’S freaking mind.”
(CUTTO: The crowd applauding the names in shock, some high-fiving in the rafters! “HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T!” chants start repeating as MILES lowers the mic with a smirk, passing off to EDDIE MAYFIELD who does NOT look happy even still.)
MAYFIELD: “Hold on, hold on. (MAYFIELD starts waving the crowd off) Before any of you start shotgunning Yuengling Light all over your brand new Utz Factory shirts, there is another announcement concerning a man you’ve ALL DISRESPECTED tonight.”
(The crowd boos LOUDLY as MAYFIELD stares back in annoyance.)
H’WOOD: (V/O) “You don’t have to take it, Eddie! Ban them all!”
MAYFIELD: “This started back in the Madison Square Garden when Nova decided to ILLEGALLY use the World Championship to bludgeon this man’s face during a WRESTLING contest. (“NOH-VUH! NOH-VUH!” chants repeat. MAYFIELD pinches his nose in frustration.) It is OBVIOUS that the this city’s ethics have been ROTTED by sugar, almost as much as the rampant offenders of my WELLNESS policy. This has left a man like LORD COYNER POLLARD, a GENTLEMEN and SCHOLAR of HONEST, CLEAN WRESTLING.”
(POLLARD nods in thanks, but the crowd starts booing LOUDLY! MAYFIELD and POLLARD look back in shock.)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “For anyone not at Madison Square Garden. Eddie Mayfield CONVENINETLY forgot to mention the fact that Pollard brought the belt into the ring in the first place to try and STEAL the victory from Nova.”
MAYFIELD: (holding his hand up) “Regardless of what you Sugar-Bear addicted FREAKS envision for this Revolution, it is my job to do what’s BEST for this promotion. Ask NOT, what NFW can do for you! ASK WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR NFW! Lord Coyner Pollard step forward please.”
(The crowd boos LOUDLY as POLLARD walks to the center of the ring in shock, VARGA and LEGION surrounded six or seven deep, now handcuffed by security and being forced to watch. They’re both talking smack at each other.)
MAYFIELD: “On your knee…”
(POLLARD looks around nervously as the crowd starts buzzing…)
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “This could really go either way.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Have FAITH in your country, Beanfry!”
(POLLARD kneels as MAYFIELD is handed MERCADO’s chair.)
MAYFIELD: “In the face of madness, you have proven yourself once again. For this…”
(MAYFIELD taps each of POLLARD’s shoulders as the Lord wells up some crocodile tears.)
MAYFIELD: “You are granted DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY.”
(LOUD BOOS! POLLARD stands on his feet and bows each way towards the crowd as MAYFIELD hands back the chair to COJONES and joins MILES in a standing ovation. CUTTO: O’CONNOR sitting down and watching in shock as H’WOOD stands up to clap feverishly.)
H’WOOD: (over boos!) “This is a BEAUTIFUL moment, Beanfry! Don’t let your Irish bias ruin it for all of us, stand up!”
O’CONNOR: (deadpanned towards the camera) “We’ll...(H’WOOD wolf whistles!) …we’ll be right back.”
(FADEOUT as the camera shows an overhead shot of LEGION and VARGA being dragged away, while POLLARD keeps bowing in the face of trash and debris flying into the ring.)
(CUTTO: Backstage, locker room area. LEGION and LUCI4 are wandering over to their locker-room as LEGION holds his wrists…his face twitching slightly. Legion swings the door open, and although the room is pitch black, we hear some muffled whispering and giggling…)
LEGION: Varga…
(He clicks the lights on)
A SHITLOAD OF PEOPLE: SURPRISE!!!!
(Legion and Luci are shocked and horrified to discover their locker room is full of people, and there are balloons, streamers, and other such things all over, with a banner that reads "WELCOME TO BITCHDOM, LEGION!!!" hanging from the ceiling. Strippers dance around on hastily set up poles, people are downing shots, somebody throws on the new Girl Talk album, and suddenly, seemingly appearing out of nowhere in the middle of this bangin', yet unwelcome party, there's FELIX RED, who shakes Legion's hand and pats him on the back before Legion has time to react…)
FELIX: Hey, spunky. We're all proud of you for making the right decision, to start carrying my bags and finding me drugs and such, soooooo we thought we'd throw a little surprise shindig to mark the occasion.
LEGION: You have crossed a line, one that no regime will stop me from retaliating upon. These people…
FELIX: Oh, they were out in the parking lot huffing wet tar fumes and hitting each other with stuff they found. Aaaaand we got in here, 'cause, y'know. I'm good like that. I'm, like, King Shit on this show.
(Legion is still too baffled to know what to do, as Felix shoves a Sparks into his hand and cracks open one for himself)
FELIX: And now a toast, to the many opponents you'll help me defeat, the many errands I'll send you on, and the many times I'll passive aggressively slap you until you cry whenever I'm frustrated or bored.
(Felix clinks Legion's can, and takes a swig of his own)
LEGION:….(chug his WHOLE Sparks on the spot, everyone cheering when all of a sudden he spits the remaining backwash back in Felix's face. The entire party stares in horror as Legion lets out an ECHOING belch, and Felix is completely aghast…LUCI4 grabs LEGION by the hair and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. LEGION growls…)
FELIX: ...You ungrateful little fuck!
(Suddenly FELIX jumps LEGION! They start rolling around and tossing haymakers at each other’s skulls as the crowd starts to panic! LUCI4 grabs LEGION by the arm before FELIX’s followers can completely converge on the scene. As she pulls him out of the locker room screaming, FELIX is held back by someone with a full nitrous balloon.)
FELIX: You'll pay for this you pompous douchebag!!!
(Felix takes a heave off the balloon and a slow, relaxing breath, wipes the booze off his face and smiles widely and starts speaking in nitrous tongue.)
FELIX: My friend, my friend…he’s got a knife.
(FADEOUT)
(FADEIN: Back LIVE! Hershey Arena! An overhead shot of the crowd panning back towards the ringside…)
The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted t’run, but the movie kept moving as planned, the boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker…
O’CONNOR: These two men first met at Wrestlestock 2 in the TV Title Plumber Invitational, though at the time Impulse had been wrestling for forty five minutes at that point.
H’WOOD: Who cares?
He drove it in he drove it home he drove it deep in Johnny, the boy disappeared Johnny fell on’is knees, started crashing his head against the locker…
O’CONNOR: What do you mean, who cares? Tonight we get to see these two great wrestlers on an even keel!
H’WOOD: I mean it doesn’t matter. Almasy is better than Impulse, and now he doesn’t have a bunch of other opponents to hide behind.
When Suddenly… Johnny… Gets the feeling… he’s being surrounded by… Horses… Horses… Horses… Horses…Coming in in all directions, white… shining… stilver… studs with their nose… in… flames… he saw… Horses… Horses… Horses… Horses…
O’CONNOR: Say what you will, Lamont, but I believe this kid took a turn at the last Brawl, and as Impulse enters the arena to a warm ovation, I think we’re going to see a great matchup!
H’WOOD: Really? I think a great matchup will be SARS’ boot to this kid’s face.
O’CONNOR: He’s learning something new every night, Lamont, and I think that will continue – LOOK OUT!
H’WOOD: That’s great!
O’CONNOR: The fans are on their feet all over the arena to try to get a better look, but Almasy has just attacked Impulse from behind! He’s got a chair in hand, and he’s pummeling the rookie in the back and the head!
H’WOOD: I love it, Beanfry! Let the kid add this to the precious little lessons he’s learned: Come to the ring and you’re gonna get hurt.
O’CONNOR: Almasy with another shot with the chair, and he’s got Impulse by the mask, he’s dragging the groggy rookie to the ring! He doesn’t want to be in the Grand Prix, he doesn’t want to win this match, he just wants to hurt people!
H’WOOD: And?
O’CONNOR: Why do I even bother?
H’WOOD: I don’t know.
O’CONNOR: Almasy just sent Impulse into the ring, and he’s following! Are we going to get a bell?
H’WOOD: Ding, ding. Pin him and let’s go home.
O’CONNOR: The referee is telling Almasy just that, Lamont – you’ve pounded him, you’d better just finish it quickly or you’re in for it.
H’WOOD: Do your worst, referee man!
O’CONNOR: Almasy rolls Impulse over, and a foot on his chest – this is disrespectful! ONE… TWO… He took his foot off, and kicked him in the ribs! Impulse rolls to the center of the ring, holding onto his side!
H’WOOD: If he was serious about having a career, he should just tap out. Then, the referee can give the match to Almasy and the kid can have security save his ass.
O’CONNOR: And if the referee was serious about enforcing the rules, he’d make Almasy drop that chair!
H’WOOD: Leave him be, Bean dip, he’s not using it.
O’CONNOR: ALMASY WITH THE EDGE OF THE CHAIR AGAINST THE BACK OF IMPULSE’S NECK!
H’WOOD: Ooops.
O’CONNOR: He’s not hitting him, but he’s pressing the edge down, forcing Impulse back to the mat! C’mon, ref!
H’WOOD: He’s telling him to stop, what else can he do?
O’CONNOR: Maybe take the chair away?
H’WOOD: You’re welcome to try.
O’CONNOR: Finally, Almasy drops the chair to the mat, but the damage may be done! He scoops the kid, and a hard slam on the steel! Impulse rolls off in pain! Almasy just kicked the chair into the corner, but the referee needs to remove it!
H’WOOD: It’s out of the way, what more do you want?
O’CONNOR: Almasy to outside of the ropes, he’s going up top! Impulse is on his hands and knees… LEGDROP FROM THE TOP! He just drove Impulse straight back down to the mat! Roll over and a cover, ONE… TWO… TH—KICKOUT!
H’WOOD: What a stupid kid.
O’CONNOR: Almasy looks stunned that he was able to kick out of that legdrop, but the kid has more resilience than that!
H’WOOD: He’s wearing a mask. They both are. How can you tell that Almasy looks stunned, or that Impulse didn’t just have a pre – death spasm?
O’CONNOR: … Quiet.
H’WOOD: Just sayin’ is all.
O’CONNOR: Almasy with a scoop, and a whip into the corner! Cross body in the corner! He’s sandwiched Impulse between himself and the corner, and he’s got the kid’s head hooked! DDT! Another cover, ONE… TWO… TH—KICKOUT!
H’WOOD: Guts, no brains. Also, no guts.
O’CONNOR: Almasy with a scoop, and he just sent Impulse between the ropes to the floor! He’s measured the kid, and a slingshot over the top! He just caught Impulse on the top of the head with both his heels! Impulse is down, and he’s not moving!
H’WOOD: This may be the greatest match I’ve seen this year.
O’CONNOR: Almasy with a pair of forearms between the shoulder blades, and he just sent Impulse headfirst into the timekeeper’s table! Now he’s back in the ring? What’s this nutcase doing?
H’WOOD: Keep calling him that, he might come over and say hello.
O’CONNOR: Good point. Almasy is back in the ring, and the referee’s count is at three. He could certainly win this via countout, but I don’t think that’s his plan. Impulse is on one knee with one foot underneath him, this young kid has taken a lot of punishment tonight and he’s still in this thing!
H’WOOD: Give Alamasy four minutes.
O’CONNOR: Count is at five, and Almasy climbs to the top turnbuckle! Six! Impulse is back to his feet! Almasy launches himself off the top! Double axe handle to the back of the neck, and Impulse’s head just snapped down to the table! Did the wood just crack?
H’WOOD: That would imply Impulse doesn’t have a soft spot up front, so no.
O’CONNOR: The referee is calling for Almasy to return to the ring, with or without Impulse, and at this point it might be wise for Impulse to surrender, or for the referee to just disqualify Almasy.
H’WOOD: That’s not fair, why can’t he stop the match and give it to Almasy?
O’CONNOR: I suppose blindsiding him with a chair was fair?
H’WOOD: Of course it was fair, he did it with flair!
O’CONNOR: I’m not talking to you anymore.
H’WOOD: What fun is that?
O’CONNOR: Almasy with a hand on the back of Impulse’s neck, and a whip to the guardrail! Running start, he just leaped to the second ring step and launched himself at his opponent! Impulse just got sandwiched against the railing! Finally, Almasy heads back to the ring, and the count has started again.
H’WOOD: You see? You need to let the man work. Impulse had a good run, but he was due for a terrible ass – kicking.
O’CONNOR: Lamont? He just won his first match!
H’WOOD: I stand by my statement.
O’CONNOR: Incredibly, Impulse is actually getting up! He’s got both hands on the guardrail, and he’s taking his time pulling himself to his feet, but he most assuredly is getting back to his feet!
H’WOOD: Good, so Almasy can put him down again. Maybe hit him in the nose with a newspaper or rub his face on his stupid mask and say ‘No!’ for a few.
O’CONNOR: Almasy wears a mask, too.
H’WOOD: His isn’t stupid.
O’CONNOR: Impulse is surely being buoyed by the way the fans are cheering for him, and he’s on his feet! Just a few steps, and he’ll be back in the ring and right back in this thing!
H’WOOD: If you really believe that, Beanfry, maybe you can go pat him on the head and say ‘Chin up, buckaroo, it’s inexplicably worth it.’
O’CONNOR: Seven, eight, nine, and Impulse just slid back under the bottom rope! These fans are certainly appreciative of his efforts to stay in this thing. Almasy has him hooked again, and he just tossed him over the top rope on the other side—NO! Impulse held onto the top rope! Almasy turned around as soon as he flung him!
H’WOOD: Turn around!
O’CONNOR: Impulse leans back, and he just slingshotted himself to the top rope, and launched at Almasy! Bulldog! Impulse just drove Almasy headfirst into the mat!
H’WOOD: Lucky shot.
O’CONNOR: Must’ve been a lot of luck, Almasy is back to his knees, but he looks a bit rattled! Impulse rolled with the impact across the ring, he’s sitting down, holding onto his own head! There’s the count, but I think both men are still in this thing!
H’WOOD: Some more than others, Beanfry – Almasy is up and he’s mad!
O’CONNOR: He’s stalking towards Impulse with dangerous intent surely on his mind—now, this is bad.
H’WOOD: This is SMART!
O’CONNOR: C’mon, ref! You should’ve gotten rid of the chair by now!
H’WOOD: But he didn’t, so Almasy’s allowed to beat Impulse to oblivion with it. It’s simple economics.
O’CONNOR: How is that economics?
H’WOOD: It just is.
O’CONNOR: Almasy just shoved the referee away from him, but there’s no disqualification? I don’t understand that call, but Impulse is still on the mat, trying to catch his breath! I don’t know if he’s seen Almasy approaching with the steel chair in hand, but he’d better watch out for it!
H’WOOD: Bring ‘er up, and bring ‘er down!
O’CONNOR: He’s got the chair high above his head, this could be it—IMPULSE WITH A ROLL AND A DROP TOE HOLD! He just spun ninety degrees out of the chair’s path and took Almasy down with one leg on the back of his knee and the other on the front of his ankle—HOLY SHI—
H’WOOD: Not very professional, are you?
O’CONNOR: Let’s take a look at that on the replay!
H’WOOD: Holy shi—
O’CONNOR: Almasy is down, and he’s holding onto his leg in pain!
H’WOOD: Did he just do that?
O’CONNOR: Fans, as you can see on the replay on the right side of your screen, Impulse took Almasy off his feet with that modified drop toe hold, and as soon as he landed on the mat, he grabbed Almasy’s ankle with both hands and… I really don’t know how to describe this.
H’WOOD: He just popped his knee, didn’t he?
O’CONNOR: That’s the best way I can describe it. Almasy is in a lot of pain, and now Impulse has that chair in his own hands after using it to help himself to his feet. This is a judgement call by the referee on what to do here.
H’WOOD: Disqualify Impulse, of course. That’s pretty unsportsmanlike.
O’CONNOR: Says the man who was defending Almasy’s use of a chair?
H’WOOD: Well what’s the kid gonna do with it?
O’CONNOR: Impulse just dropped the chair to the floor, and he looks like he’s still trying to catch his breath. Almasy has pulled himself to his feet with the ring ropes, but you can tell he’s in a lot of pain out there. He’s trying to take a few steps, but he doesn’t look like he can put any weight on it. SCOOP AND A BODYSLAM BY IMPULSE! The kid is on his way to the top turnbuckle…
H’WOOD: Now what?
O’CONNOR: Almasy is down, but he’s holding onto his knee! Impulse perched on the top rope… SHOOTING STAR PRESS! Grapevine cover, ONE… TWO… THREE!
H’WOOD: Cheater!
O’CONNOR: The referee has Impulse’s hand in the air, he’s officially the winner here, but I’m not exactly sure what we just saw. You can see on the replay again, Almasy started the match by blindsiding the kid with that steel chair, and from there he was evidently not interested in winning the match, all he wanted to do was hurt Impulse. There it is, the bulldog from the outside, and the drop toe hold, ankle lock that truly turned the tide. What’s he doing now?
H’WOOD: Crippling the guy isn’t enough?
O’CONNOR: Impulse has Almasy by the ankle again, and another wrench! Did he just pop his knee BACK into place?
H’WOOD: What an idiot. Almasy, please end him before he gets back to the locker room?
O’CONNOR: As the kid leaves the ring to a warm reception, Almasy has gotten back to his feet, and he has a very subtle limp to his step now. I’ve gotta tell you, Lamont… this kid can fly, and he takes a lot of flack from the rest of the wrestlers here in New Frontier Wrestling for being green, but after tonight I think he’s proven something else – Impulse can be very, very dangerous!
H’WOOD: SARS is dangerous. Impulse is not.
O’CONNOR: We’ll be right back.
FADE IN: Sars paces a padded room, painted purple and red.
SARS: "Y-y-you-you p-people make me sick! Every time I think about the Grand Prix and the fact that I've gotta breathe the same air as a bunch of unarresting, barely-talented retards...I just want to shit a basket full of spider eggs! All I want are some personalities of the non-retard variety! Is it too much for a multi-colored comedic jackass to ask?"
THONG! A thrown knife rattles as it's stuck in the padded wall.
SARS: "RE-AL-IT-TEE-CHECK! You're just a bunch of hypocritical, wholly pitiful, essentially miserable, hackney-ass LOSERS and I can't wait until I get to punctuate that fact with a 40 pound box of rape at each and everyone of your doorsteps. :) All the players who claim to "have a parcel of staying power" spend most of their time treating natural-born losers like Varga as "actual competition", meanwhile anyone who actually poses a threat to their dead-in-the-water careers is either befriended in the most gayest of ways or- like this clown- pigeon-holed and marginalized as "glorified mama joke" spewing flash-in-the-pan.
Ha ha ha...that's fine. I relate to your self-serving need to simplify and retreat from what you can't understand. But inching away from the blood at your feet isn't going to be an option when it pools ankle-deep. The notion that all that lies between me the random sociopathic ecstasy of making everyone a victim of chance--- is an ocean of crimson unleashed by these same hands--- will never be lost on a mind as mad and strange as mine!
In other words: You ladies just don't have the BAWLS to put down this rabid-beast. I could soak up the National Champion with a Maxi-Pad and only thing separating Nova from every "wrassler" in existence is a drug addiction. Oh wait...that's been done. Truly, it's a bitch. All that's left for Nova is a bottle of whiskey and a bizzare case of double-homocide, slash, suicide - so bone up on your crippler crossface, ya stoner piece of shit. And if you don't do it, guess what, one day I'm gonna drive ya to it in the same ambalence they're gonna stuff Facey in when I'm done playin' with his innards.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!"
Deadpan. (-.-)
Deep in thought, chin on his hand, the clown- now seeming uncharacteristically and particularly vicious paced the camera.
SARS: "Speaking of...
I don't see how Facey is gonna drop the weight in time for the Prix. 67% percent of his body weight is protiens that he's syphoned from a wide assortment of foreign dicks. How's he gonna be able to focus in the wrestling ring when he's focused leaving an engagement ring of spit around the base of Nova's junk? Listen, Facey: Forget the Grand Prix. Hang a hard left at Louisville, Kentucky and gun it to Faggotville, California. Your lifestyle is like your promo-style: Sissified and Limp-wristed. You and Nova are better off sampling the tang of your assholes together.
Don't play coy, my skinny little witless dipshit. You already said that you'll eat shitty-shit and like it, so you'll have no problem gobblin' up what I leave on your chances of winning any title shots. Literally and Figuratively...(CLAP)...it's a wrap! HA HA HA! OOOOooOOOOHHHH, I'm soooo funny! And sooooooooo GOOD!
So good, that I can totally burn myself at the end of my promos and still come out smelling like an arrangement of lilac and baby's breath. And what do you smell like? The rotted-crotch of Teresa Quaranta's panties: a combination of Summer's Eve, a sardine's asshole and the Sewage line in an old pork rendering plant."
Sars ceased his pacing and walked in one direction, towards the wall...and then up the wall. (???) The camera followed.
SARS: "This last one goes out to the No-SHOWS! While I'd love to stand here dissecting all the reasons why it was probably best you didn't bother making your case. I'm going to let the sound of you gasping for air as Varga lowers his crotch-lint covered balls into your waiting mouths serve as a taste of not only a sad virgin's shriveled nutsack- but of what ya had to look forward to in actual competition.
Kinda sucks too...I've actually been workin' on a move that best utilizes the fact that I shave my coin purse and my knack for sitting on people's faces.
Ah well.
In the next life, right guys? :)"
FADE OUT.
(SLO-FADEIN: Camera flashes flickering, the crowd cheering as the house lights level down in anticipation of the next matchup…QUICK CUTTO: Ringside with O’CONNOR and H’WOOD, fans clamoring to either get on camera or drink more beer behind them.)
O’CONNOR: “Ahhh. Fans, it feels great to be back with you tonight on ESEN Television after a two-month untelevised stretch…but unlike past lapses in Frontier programming, this break from the airwaves was not due to inactivity! Rather, NFW left its more comfortable stomping grounds of Western and Middle America to spend a little time in the Big Apple, which played host to not one – not two – but THREE dynamite house shows showcasing everything from Frontier veteran players to hot newcomers!”
H’WOOD: “Alright, Beaner, alright, try not to pass out on us…”
O’CONNOR: “You’re right to color me excited, Woodman! The card we have tonight for the ‘COLT’ .45th episode of CRASH TEE-VEE is arguably on-par with the one we assembled for WRESTLESTOCK…and we all know how that went down! It’s already being hailed as a modern Frontier masterpiece, a Milesian & Mayfieldonic Manifesto for the coming year!”
H’WOOD: “That’s it, I’m telling the interns, no more coffee for you! Hear me, Consuela? THIS MAN IS CUT OFF!”
O’CONNOR: (Laughing) “Well there’s a LOT to be excited about in the New Frontier right now, Lamont, and I’m pretty sure we’d all see your ascot vibrating in place if I were to mention a certain OXONIAN (CUTTO: H’WOOD’s hat bouncing up off his head and landing back in place!) but the question of the Everette Memorial Tag Title Match will be answered later tonight! RIGHT NOW a much-hyped brawl is upon us, dubbed the ‘Three O’Clock Afternoon Special,’ between what mgmt. has described as ‘The Old School’ – consisting of the ‘Dog of War’ Jason Payne, ‘XXX’ Sean Stevens, and Cameron Cruise – against…well, that’s the real question, isn’t it, Lamont?”
H’WOOD: “One we’re about to find out an answer for, Beanfry! We all saw Alyas get arrested earlier in the program, and if you’re like me, you immediately begin giggling and dry-washing your hands over the prospect of the Dream Team marching out to a three-on-two situation against three of the ‘Dub’s most seasoned veterans! Gordey and Duncan flapped their gums a little too hard about the GHEE-REATEST tag team in the history of the sport, and well…KARMAIC RETRIBUTION IS A B(BLEEP!)H!!!
O’CONNOR: “The day ‘Karmaic Retribution’ works in favor of the Hollywood Wrecking Crew is the day we’re ALL in trouble…but here come the anointed ‘Old School’ now!”
(MUSICUP – “Dogs of War” by Pink Floyd)
O’CONNOR: “All three men emerging from the back now to Payne’s theme music…and what an important match for each of them, Woodman! NFW’s first televised show since WRESTLESTOCK…the beginning of another surely-groundbreaking arc for the company…you’ve got Cameron Cruise especially vocal in these last weeks trying to resurrect himself as a main player! You’ve got Payne re-emerging on the scene after a long absence, a former NFW World Heavyweight Championship contender in his own right! And then you have Sean Stevens coming off a PHENOMENAL 2007 all around, but not really finding his way in the New Frontier! These men need a WIN!”
H’WOOD: “Depending on who walks through that curtain next, their chances of getting it will either skyrocket…or simply hover around ‘very likely!’”
O’CONNOR: “All three men approaching the ring now, Cruise opting for the ring steps as Payne rolls under the rope and Stevens climbs up onto the apron…”
(MUSICUP: “Princes of the Universe” by Queen)
O’CONNOR: “Aaaand…that…about…”
H’WOOD: “BWAAAAAAAA-HA-HA-HA~!!!”
O’CONNOR: “…answers our question, fans, because it appears the Dream Team of Mike Gordey and Brian Duncan are gonna go it alone, making their way with an air of defiance out onto the entrance ramp! What a test for this young team against a collection of individuals in that ring more seasoned than Mama Carlton’s famous ribeye!”
H’WOOD: “EWWW! BEANFRY!”
O’CONNOR: “I said RIB-eye, Woodman.”
H’WOOD: “Oh. I wasn’t paying attention very much, and got one hell of a mental image for a second. At any rate, defiance or no defiance these chub-rubs are gonna take their licks here in the Hershey Arena and then hopefully move on to greener pastures…literally, somewhere else!”
O’CONNOR: “Why are you so eager to see an adverse fate befall these young men? Don’t you want your son’s division to thrive?”
H’WOOD: “Lemme put it to you this way, Sprout. Say you go to the store and you find the BEST ice cream there is in the world…are you gonna pass it up for something you KNOW isn’t as good? Me, I’ll just load up on the best brand and terminate the contracts of the others.”
O’CONNOR: “I like ALL KINDS of ice cream.”
H’WOOD: “From the looks of your gut, I can see that.”
O’CONNOR: “HEY! I’ve been hitting the...DREAM TEAM DOWN THE RAMP IN A CHARGE! Duncan and Gordey sliding under the bottom! Gordey rocking Sean Stevens with right hands! The big man Brian Duncan with a double clothesline on Payne and Cruise! Gordey drops an elbow over Payne! Duncan with some classic Ground ‘N Pounding on Cruise! And the ref is telling one of the Dream Teamers they have to leave the ring right now! I don’t believe it, Woodman, but the ref is having to PRY the Dream Team off these THREE men!”
H’WOOD: “Hrmph. Can’t say I’m seeing a lot of ‘Bad-Ass’ or ‘War’ or…um…‘Siegel’ out of the ‘Old School’ right now…”
O’CONNOR: “There’s a LOT to be said for who gets the momentum early on in these kinds of matches, and I have to give the Dream Team absolute credit on looking at this unfortunate situation and deciding on the spot that they have to do the one thing their opponents will NOT expect…charge the ring when they’re a man down! That’s classic PSYCHOLOGY, Woodman!”
H’WOOD: “You want psychology, Bean-O? Check out 1984, WWTWA’s Flag Day Fracas, where the Rock N Roll Gangsters embarrassed the Genovese Gutbusters so bad they swore off fine dining for the rest of their lives…THAT’S psychology! This…this is CHEAP TRICKS! And I spit on it! PA-TOOEY!”
O’CONNOR: “I don’t think your disdain is weighing heavy on their minds at the moment, Woodman! Gordey’s in first for the Dream Team and he’s fired up! Opposite him is a slightly rattled Jason Payne, but if there’s one thing to be said about the Dog of War, it’s that his mental state is RARELY a hindrance to his in-ring abilities! He’s already got that snarl back on his face, ready to tear into the smaller member of the opposing duo! Payne lunging forward! Gordey with a standing side kick that jogs the man dubbed ‘Too Hot for NFW!’ Payne shaking the cobwebs…and Gordey with a back elbow knocking him to the mat! Payne up again! Gordey springing forward…front facebuster and Payne’s face-down on the mat!”
H’WOOD: “BAH~! The Dog of War is being neutered by…by AMA-TOORS!!”
O’CONNOR: “Gordey getting FIRED UP, and listen to this capacity crowd! He’s bringing Payne up…and Payne gets a leg! Payne with a leg takedown on Gordey, and he tags out to Cruise!”
H’WOOD: “Oh, FABULOUS.”
O’CONNOR: “Hang on, Woodman! I think in recent weeks we’ve seen a more engaged, more attentive Cameron Cruise inside the ‘Dub’s ring ropes! And Cam appears to be confirming my suspicions now! Ducking a lariat by Gordey – HOOK for a neckbreaker! Rolling knee across the chest and maybe part of the neck of Gordey, and what a quick-thinking play, no wasted movements by Cameron Cruise! He’s got Gordey up…Irish whip into the ropes…(SFX: THWACK!!!) OHHHHHHH!!! KNIFE-EDGE CHOP sending Gordey down to the mat! One of the most stinging moves in pro-wrestling, and you almost NEVER see someone use it like that, but Cruise just felled Gordey like a rotten oak, and you gotta know the blood vessels in the Dream Teamer’s chest are…yup, the camera’s showing it, he’s got a Wilson-esque red print of the back of Cruise’s hand on his chest!”
H’WOOD: “Knife-edge chops…*shudder*…one thing I do NOT miss about the ring.”
O’CONNOR: “Gordey back up, and Cameron Cruise has successfully taken the wind out of the Dream Team’s sails here!”
H’WOOD: “I always liked him, you know.”
O’CONNOR: “I won’t dignify that with a response, but I WILL say that backbreaker by the Greensboro veteran is gonna have Mike Gordey looking for the softest hotel bed he can find tonight! Cruise holding onto it, almost a submission modification here with his knee driven RIGHT into the small of Gordey’s back…and he relents! Cruise with stomps on the tag competitor! Gordey in a daze on the mat trying to defend! He’s got a leg! Pushing Cruise back! Cameron stumbles, but he’s still on his feet! He’s going…wait…wait, I believe Sean Stevens just blind-tagged himself in!”
H’WOOD: “As long as there are boots stomping the Dream Team, I don’t really care WHO’S wearing them.”
O’CONNOR: “It looks like Cameron Cruise cares! The ref is telling him to leave the ring, and he’s LIVID! He turned the momentum of this match around and was in the process of DISSECTING Mike Gordey before he was unceremoniously changed out by a member of his own team! And I don’t know if that was a good move by Stevens…because Gordey has tagged out! The big man Brian Duncan is in…but size has never mattered to the ‘Blue-Eyed Badass!’”
H’WOOD: *Snicker*
O’CONNOR: “Stevens meeting Duncan in the middle of the ring…they’re trading blows! Stevens with a right! A series of rights! A left! He’s swinging fast because you KNOW that one punch from the mammoth Duncan’s probably work FIVE from the Blue-Eyed Badass! Duncan clubbing the shoulders of XXX! Stevens trying to block…and Duncan has him around the neck! DUNCAN’S LIFTING STEVENS OFF THE GROUND BY THE NECK!!”
H’WOOD: “UP, UP, AND AWAAAAAAAAAY!!!”
O’CONNOR: “He’s gotta be going for the ‘Get Lost’ two-handed choke toss! Listen to these fans, they can’t believe it! Stevens’ legs are dangling off the mat – and he’s throwing knees out of desperation! Landing a crucial kidney shot, and Duncan releases him! Sean Stevens is on the mat, and he’s gasping for air! And Duncan…wait a second…the crowd seems to be directed elsewhere here, someone’s coming down the…yes! YES! BROCK ALYAS IS COMING DOWN THE ENTRANCE RAMP!”
H’WOOD: “And he’s sporting the newest from the American Penal Wares collection, BWAHAHAHA!!”
O’CONNOR: “Brock Alyas is headed down to the ring, and as my esteemed colleague suggests, he’s got his prison oranges on and shackles jingling! I don’t know what effect he hopes to have in this match-up with his arms and legs locked up, but he’s pacing around the Dream Team’s side of the ring!”
H’WOOD: “That’s the ugliest cheerleader THIS color commentator’s ever seen, and I used to autograph signings outside high school football games in ABERDEEN, MISSISSIPPI! Ever been there, Beanfry?”
O’CONNOR: “I don’t think so…”
H’WOOD: “They have this dish…they slaughter a pig, and then whole-roast it over a spit…with a WATERMELON sewn into the belly! And they shove ice-cold Budweisers into the eye-sockets!”
O’CONNOR: “Oh, stop it. Duncan’s got Stevens up…he’s lifting him overhead in a Gorilla Press! Stevens has to be EIGHT FEET off the mat right now! Gordey slapping Duncan’s back for the blind tag…Duncan moving away from the ropes…GORDEY UP ONTO THE THIRD ROPE…SPRINGING OFF…DUNCAN RELEASES…FRONT FACEBREAKER BY GORDEY OFF THE TOP ROPE!!! THE ‘CUTTER FROM ANOTHER MOTHER!!’”
H’WOOD: “Look at Payne! He’s LOSING it! He’s gotta be extended four feet over the ropes!”
O’CONNOR: “Sean Stevens is in serious trouble here, and you’re right, Payne is freaking out, no doubt because he hasn’t had a chance to redeem himself since the opening moments of the contest when the Dream Team took the ‘Old School’ by surprise! Duncan dropping for a pin…ONE! TWO! THRE-NO!! Stevens got a shoulder up, though I don’t for the life of me know how! Gordey slapping the mat in frustration…going to lift Stevens up…aaaand HEADBUTT into Gordey’s midsection! Gordey doubled over! Stevens running back against the rop-OHHHHHH!!”
H’WOOD: “Ouch.”
O’CONNOR: “ALYAS UP ON THE APRON, AND HE CLOBBERED STEVENS IN THE BACK OF THE HEAD WITH THOSE HAND SHACKLES!!”
H’WOOD: “EXCEDRIN HEADACHE NUMBAH NIIIIIIINE! Sorry, couldn’t resist…”
O’CONNOR: “The ref missed it in the commotion of Duncan leaving the ring and checking Gordey to make sure it wasn’t a low blow! Stevens stumbles forward a step or two…into the TIGER DRIVER from Gordey! I don’t think Gordey saw Alyas clock Stevens, but Payne and Cruise sure did! They’re fresh, they’re rarin’ to go, and their partner is OUT! Gordey with the pin! Duncan’s inside, forming a wall of flesh blocking Cruise and Payne as they…ONE!! TWO!! THREE!!! The ‘New School’ wins this one, though it’s CERTAINLY by the ‘Crook’ of Brock Alyas!”
H’WOOD: “They should be ASHAMED.”
O’CONNOR: “I agree with your logic, if not your motives!”
(MUSICUP – “Princes of the Universe” by Queen)
O’CONNOR: “The Dream Team are celebrating, Stevens is OUT in the ring, and it looks like Payne and Cruise are taking the loss and going…WAIT! Payne’s going for a chair! THE DOG OF WAR HITS THE RING WITH A CHAIR, AND HE’S GIVING OUT SHOTS! (SFX: THWAAAACK!) CHAIR TO THE HEAD OF MIKE GORDEY! (SFX: THWAAAACK!) CHAIR TO THE HEAD OF BRIAN DUNCAN! Payne’s out of the ring and he’s chasing Brock Alyas around the side! Cameron Cruise cuts Alyas off and he turns, running the other way back into OHHHH! CHAIRSHOT BY JASON PAYNE ONTO THE FACE OF BROCK ALYAS!”
H’WOOD: “Old Steely the Chair DEALING JUSTICE!”
O’CONNOR: “We have bodies everywhere, Woodman, and Jason Payne gives Cruise a look…and then walks away! Obviously some measure of respect for Cruise’s performance tonight before Stevens tagged himself in! Cruise standing over Alyas now…he’s lifting him up! Cruise rolling Alyas into the ring, what’s he got planned?! He’s scooping Alyas up now…SHIPWRECK!! Cameron Cruise adding to the CARNAGE here with the Shipwreck on a still-shackled Brock Alyas, and now Cruise is leaving the ring as bodies are littered everywhere!”
H’WOOD: “Ahhhh…I love closure.”
(FADETOBLACK)
[The ring fades to black as the tape begins.]
-
O'CONNOR: Here we are, live at Wrestlestock TWOOOOOO! And we are in the midst of one of the most epic matches I've ever seen. Teresa Quaranta has been on the reciving end of thirty minutes of punishment from Sean Stevens. And it's a shame, because if it wasn't for that
underhanded sneak attack earlier, he wouldn't have gotten a single attack in!
H'WOOD: Well, that's Sean Stevens for ya. He's the best there is, and this tomato's gonna have to deal with it!
O'CONNOR: Jumping knee to the head from Stevens. Oh, the brutality. But she's still getting back onto her feet! Stevens measures her up - X-FACTOR from Stevens! And I have to believe this one is over! Cover! 1! 2! And she kicks out!
H'WOOD: This crowd is the loudest I have ever, or will ever hear them! He might have to kill Teresa Quaranta to take away that National Title!
O'CONNOR: And what's this? He's going under the ring. He's getting out a shotgun! Oh no! We've seen highspots before, but this is a capital offense! Somebody stop this. Oh no. OH NOES!
STEVENS: It's time to die, bitch!
O'CONNOR: And he fires! There's blood everywhere!
H'WOOD: Those anti-killing people to win a belt hippies might not like it, but he's getting the job done. One!
O'CONNOR: Not like this!
H'WOOD: Two!
O'CONNOR: NOT LIKE THIS!
H'WOOD: And she kicks out of a shotgun blast to the chest! This is so shocking I'm not even going to make a crass "bulletproof vest" joke here!
O'CONNOR: And she's getting up! This is insane! Stevens cocks the gun again - she just took that shotgun spray to the head and didn't even flinch! She's like the Terminator. Stevens is shaking in terror! Oh my GOD! She's shoving that shotgun up Sean Stevens's asshole! And she fires! Oh my god, that has GOTTA cause heartburn! And Sean is sobbing deleriously!
TERESA: Who's the bitch, bitch?
STEVENS: (through incredible amounts of sobbing) I'M THE BITCH! OH GOD I'M THE BITCH!
O'CONNOR: And he taps out in the middle of the ring! This... is the greatest day in professional wreslting history! Look at all this confetti! What a glorious day!
[Lamont Hollywood snuggles a puppy.]
H'WOOD: Teresa's inspiring story of triumph has totally convinced me to stop being an assbag!
[Jared Wells enters from nowhere]
WELLS: I have cancer!
-
TERESA: And that... is EXACTLY how it happened. Hey, are you writing this stuff down, boy?
As I sit across from Teresa Quatranta in this seedy New York diner, I am able to ignore the National Title around her shoulder, and use my years and years of hard earned journalistic wisdom to suspect that she may not be telling the complete truth.
BURNS: It's interesting. I saw a tape of Wrestlestock, and the two of you seemed very evenly matched.
Her eyes shrunk, and she looked back and forth nervously.
TERESA: Well, you know, the liberal media edited that match to keep him looking credible.
I gave her a look that indicated I was less than enthused with her explanation. She shrugged.
TERESA: I dunno. Somebody told me "liberal media" was a code to hypnotize half the American population, and I have to admit, it's worked pretty well this year -
[Somewhere in a Hollywood mansion, Teresa grabs a copy of Lady in the Water on DVD and BLUDGEONS famed director M. Night Shyamalan.]
TERESA: Even EYE thought you were pretentious!
[A storm of doodz in riot gear with AK's storm the room and take aim at our heroine. Teresa cringes. Potential bullets tend to do that.]
TERESA: Erm... liberal media?
[The riot squad drop their guns and start making Rain Man-esque DERRRT sounds at the top of their lungs. Teresa tiptoes, then runs away. Wow.]
Why would I, the producer of documentries on such quintessentially American topics as jazz and baseball and kickin' ass in wars, be seen with a Canadian professional wrestler on the eve of her World Title match?
Well for starters, the company isn't bad - although when I said as much, it triggered a rather tiresome twenty miute long rant on "patriarchal oppression". The meal, I'm sorry to say, wasn't as good.
TERESA: I don't know what happened here, Ken.
Teresa morosely poked around a lumpy bowl of rice, spooned it around.
TERESA: I used to work in New York, this used to be one of the best little spots around. I mean, they really had primo-level nachos. I mean, look at this. This is pathetic, man. These are Legion level nachos.
I cringed - the name Legion is fairly synonymous with suck, and the academic and historical records bear this out –
Flashback to the 60's. A nervous White House aid knocks on the door of one RIchard Nixon, clutching a copy of the Washington Post.
FLUNKIE: Sir? Sir...we just totally pulled a Legion.
Another flashback takes us to the days of French imperialism. A thunderous march of horses crosses a small creek. A tiny man rides a white horse, and some totally out of place ugly goth girl is beside him. The camera follows him, and Napoleon looks downward into it.
NAPOLEON: SOON, Russia, you will taste my despair - moohoohahahaha...
Prehistoric times. A small group of cavement huddle around a fire, uncertain of what the next day will bring... finally a large man in furs step into the cave, looking exhausted. The other people in the cave look even more dissapointed - the hunter has returned without food.
CAVEMAN: Grr. Goo grah ergrugh. Grr raah raah. Legion?
Suddenly the other cavemen fly into a rage, throwing clubs and sticks at the caveman and running him out. They follow, screaming more like apes then men -
BURNS: So here you are. Days away from the biggest match of your life. What do you do to prepare for something like that.
TERESA: A good question. See... I understand Nova. He's wrestled all around the world. He's wrestled in America. He's wrestled in Japan. He's wrestled in Thailand while wearing see through silk-screen Mighty Morphin Power Rangers underwear. He's wrestled in Canada -
BURNS: Uh.. what what was that last one?
TERESA: ...Canada?
A loud crack as my palm collided with my forehead.
TERESA: Beating Nova isn't going to be child's play. It won't be enough for me to just understand him In order to defeat him...I will have to become him.
BURNS: ... And how exactly do you plan to do that?
Teresa says nothing, but kicks a heavy pair of boos onto the table, lights perhaps the biggest joint I've ever seen in my life, wraps her lips around it, and takes a massive hit. The smell that kicks back is an interesting one and familiar... perhaps too familiar.
BURNS: Uh... is that oregano you're smoking?
She pauses, smug smile twisting into something more spiteful. Finally, she throws the joint into the chowder. She mumbles something about pinching a culero, but I didn't quite catch it.
TERESA: There's no justice, Ken Burns. There's no justice. That's like recognition, like power, like respect - it only comes with being the best... I'm going to be secluded. I'm going into training to harsh and so severe that I might not make it back again. So I knew someone had to survive, as a witness, carrying the truth of my words to generations to come.
She rises slowly, holding my hand in hers, and despite my best efforts, I can feel a pair of tears run down my face. She quickly reaches up, wiping away the salty tears ioof my anguish.
TERESA: Don't. This is best... for both of us.
She quickly collects herself, dashing off. Perhaps she was so prepared, so strong... that she didn't want me to see her cry.
Or maybe she wanted to stick me with the bill. Whore.
-
I recieved a latter a few days later. It was so poignant, so sweet, that I could almost imagine her rich, commanding mezzo read the words aloud:
[Cue that cheesy letter scrolling effect in all the old war documentaries]
TERESA V/O:
My dearest Kenneth - I pray this letter finds you in good health. It has been a long and miserable 48 hours since I last knew the pleasure of your touch. Mine was a march without sleep in the cold, blistering rain, but even without rest for my body, my mind may rest in sound confidence that it is a larger cause for which I am fighting for. Too long have the names of the past dominated the New Frontier. My fight is not merely a fight for change on my behalf, but a fight for the entire company. A fight... for our future. My mind is at ease. I am in need of a vision. These times Kenneth, they are not like the old times. Truth is confusing and does not come with ease.
While I cannot reveal my exact location, I overlook the places in which I began my journey so, so long ago, at least on the American front. I was only called because those above me were injured or dead, and I did not win the battle myself, but I learned, I stood... on the proving ground and survived, knowing that soon, this day would come. And as it comes, I look for THAT more than any premature declaration of greatness - the feeling, the elusive sense that there is more to do
and become. My time closes - I will end by asking that you write soon and often.
I remain yours in love and death,
- Teresa Quaranta
-
And that, I mean... that was sorta weird, I guess. I didn't see her again until Friday, not to far from Hershey Arena. She looked ragged - bags under her eyes, squinting through a face shining with sweat. I can't help but ask.
BURNS: This is the EAGLEstar we're talking about. Are... are you ready?
TERESA: ... Yes.
It reminded me of a story. When Cortez arrived in the New World, his first order was to burn the boats.
From the coast, they would either move forward or die.
(FADEIN: Back LIVE! Hershey Arena, where STEVE KNOX, ROOK BLACK and the UBER JUDGE are already in their respective corners. The bell rings to crowd cheers – BLACK immediately making a beeline for UJ.)
O’CONNOR: Wasting no time are the Judge and Rook Black! Sorry we didn’t get any introductions in fans, but these two are wasting no time in locking up, collar and elbow.
H’WOOD: Could it be any more cliché? I mean, at LEAST let Knox in.
O’CONNOR: I didn’t know you were into WHAT A SUPLEX BY STEVE KNOX!!
H’WOOD: Don’t have a fit, pal!
O’CONNOR: Come on! Knox just BOUNCED the Judge’s head off the canvas with that back suplex, and Rook only just managed to avoid being taken over himself! Rook’s springing over, looking for a leg-lock on the Uber Judge, but Knox just pie-faced him back and is laying in with stomps on Judge!
H’WOOD: He clearly wants that National Championship match at the next Crash.
O’CONNOR: ALL of them want the shot! That’s gotta be one of the most inane statements you’ve EVER made!
H’WOOD: Save it, Beansprout. You should be calling the match.
O’CONNOR: You mean Uber Judge being whipped across the ring by Knox, straight into a VICIOUS clothesline from Rook?
H’WOOD: Yeah. That’ll do pig.
O’CONNOR: Knox trying to get some more offense in, but Rook shoves him away and they’re going at it! The Uber Judge is still recovering by the ropes from that clothesline, and Rook Black and Steve Knox are going fist for fist in the middle of the ring!
H’WOOD: FINALLY, some decent action! Something your wife never gets.
O’CONNOR: Steve Knox getting the better of Black, forces him back to the ropes, Irish Whip, back off the ropes, Knox under the clothesline AND OVER THE TOP ROPE!! Uber Judge pulling the top rope down and out he goes!!
H’WOOD: ONE!! TWO!!
O’CONNOR: And a kickout by the Uber Judge! A nice backward roll from the Rook and it was almost his title shot next week!
H’WOOD: And FINALLY the Uber Judge gets some offence as he’s up first, ducking behind into a hammerlock, trying for a takedown, but Rook Black turns it around as they’re going down!
O’CONNOR: Steve Knox is down on the outside, he hit the floor hard, and Rook Black inside the ring with the hammerlock applied on the man who came to his rescue at Wrestlestock. No friends in the ring, not here in New Frontier!
H’WOOD: Everything else including the kitchen sink, but no friends.
O’CONNOR: Rook Black picking the Judge up to his feet, still with the hammerlock locked REVERSED! Uber Judge ducking quickly under, and switches into a side headlock! Rook Black tries to back him off the ropes, but he’s not letting go, and takes him down with a headlock takedown, but Rook with a headscissors, but the Judge rolls back out of it… into a headscissors of his own? How the…
H’WOOD: He’s Uber, he can do anything.
O’CONNOR: Both men with head-scissors on each other in the middle of the ring, this is confusing, and Steve Knox is slowly sliding back into the ring… he looks as confused as I am staring at the two of them!
H’WOOD: I’m so glad Beau isn’t here right now, that’s all I’m gonna say.
O’CONNOR: Now, we’ve heard the smartest thing you’ve ever said. Knox’s had enough of the… erm… number’s game, and he just DROPS a double elbow on both men! Right in the ribs, I bet they’re wishing they hadn’t been trying to grapple each others ankles off. Rolls Black onto his back, but the Judge quickly kicks him in the backside and rolls him off!
H’WOOD: And Knox isn’t happy about that! Charging in, but drop-toe hold by the masked one! The Uber Judge switching into a headlock on the canvas, but Knox POWERS out of it! Runs to the ropes
O’CONNOR: But he’s taken down with another drop-toe hold!
H’WOOD: Coincidence.
O’CONNOR: No headlock this time though, Uber Judge runs over and PUNTS Rook in the back!
H’WOOD: I think Knox needs a facelift, getting dropped twice like that in less than thirty seconds has to hurt.
O’CONNOR: He’s taking stock in the corner, as Uber Judge picks Rook up, dragging him into the middle of the ring… what was that?!
H’WOOD: Double single-leg take down?
O’CONNOR: Rook Black and the Uber Judge just took each other down, and I’m not so sure they didn’t hit their heads! Steve Knox is pulling himself to his feet, and he can’t believe what just happened!
H’WOOD: I’m surprised you’re not weirded out by the fact they BOTH have leg-locks on each other!
O’CONNOR: I think that double single-leg was weird enough thank you! Steve Knox has had enough and he’s… rolling them to the ropes??
H’WOOD: And dumps them outside. Awesome.
O’CONNOR: And he’s playing to the crowd – but they’ve still got the leg-locks locked in!!
H’WOOD: What?!
O’CONNOR: They’ve still got the leg locks applied even after that tumble out of the ring.
H’WOOD: And Knox can’t believe it! He’s basically being ignored!
O’CONNOR: And he’s not taking that! A nice stomp as he rolls to the outside, breaking Uber Judge off Black. Black’s holding his hip, I think he landed worse moments ago, but Knox ROCKING the Judge with a right hand, and DRIVES him spine first into the ring apron!
H’WOOD: And a quick kick keeps Rook down.
O’CONNOR: Smart move, he wants to only have one man to beat, first fall gets a shot at the National Championship and he’ll be damned if someone else gets it. Rolls Uber Judge back into the ring, doesn’t even bother with a cover, he just DRIVES his knee into the shoulder! Picks him up, whip into the corner, charges with a clothesline and T-BONE out of it!!
ONE!!
TWO!!!
KICKOUT as the ref was about to hit the three! Steve Knox with that MASSIVE suplex, goes for the cover again, but not even a two there!
H’WOOD: Uh-oh, Rook’s getting up.
O’CONNOR: And Steve sees him, boot to the face sends him back to the floor. Turns around SMALL PACKAGE!!
ONE!!
TWO!! Kickout and he was almost beaten in the middle of the ring!
H’WOOD: And he gets tripped up as he tries to go to the ropes! I guess Rook Black didn’t appreciate an awesome kick to the face.
O’CONNOR: And he went face first again! Three times in one match, and it looks like the Uber Judge and Rook Black are on the same page as they both lay in some boots! Rook Black picks up Knox, Uber Judge with a hard right, Black with a boot to the gut… BIG double vertical suplex!! Uber Judge into the cover, but Black throws him off!
H’WOOD: That’s what makes these one fall three-ways fun. No team lasts long.
O’CONNOR: Steve Knox kicks out as Black tries the cover, but the Uber Judge comes in and snapmares Black down… kinda?
H’WOOD: Did he just get snapmared mid-snapmare?
O’CONNOR: I think so.
H’WOOD: How is that possible?
O’CONNOR: How should I know?
H’WOOD: OK, ok, chill.
O’CONNOR: Knox trying to catch his breath, I think that double suplex took a lot out of him. Uber Judge back to his feet first, Rook Black’s favouring that hip after the spill to the outside earlier, and Uber Judge spins him around and slaps on a sleeper!
H’WOOD: He helped him at the pay per view so he could put him to sleep here?
O’CONNOR: I doubt it, he wants the win here. Felix Red knows who he is but he ain’t talking.
H’WOOD: First time for everything.
O’CONNOR: Rook Black’s trying to fight out of the sleeper, but the Uber Judge isn’t giving him any room to move… KNOX WITH A SLEEPER!! KNOX WITH A SLEEPER ON THE JUDGE!!
H’WOOD: You’ve gotta be kidding!
O’CONNOR: The ref’s asking Black and Judge if EITHER wants to give it up, two sleeper’s in the middle of the ring! I can’t believe OWW!!!
H’WOOD: Right in the goolies.
O’CONNOR: The what?
H’WOOD: [bleep!] I gotta stop eating out Victoria Beckham.
O’CONNOR: You mean eating out with.
H’WOOD: No. No, I don’t.
O’CONNOR: The ref was in there so close he didn’t see Rook Black with a back heel right between the legs of BOTH Uber Judge and Steve Knox! We’re just about coming up on the end of our FIRST HOUR of Crash Television, which unfortunately means we’ve got to pay up to our DIRECTV and SIRIUS SATELLITE partners!
*.*.*.*
(FADEIN: An all-white backdrop, EL JANITO and BEEF of the NOTORIOUS NFW MEGA JOB stand in their respective attire shot from the waist up.)
JANITO: “I’m a MAC.”
BEEF: “I’m a PC.”
(The camera pans down showing STEVE, who nails them both with NUTSHOTS. EL JANITO falls to his knees, foaming at the mouth as BEEF falls into a fetal position on the ground.)
EL JANITO: (eyes lolling) “THE SEVENTH SIN IS UPON MY LOINS!”
BEEF: “CRABS ARE HAVING SEX INSIDE MR. JOHNSON’S STEAMSHIP!”
(STEVE walks forwards in a tuxedo, straightens his bow-tie.)
STEVE: “TROJAN.”
(FADETOBLACK)
TROJAN CONDOM MAN V/O: “Trojans – protectors of the OTHER Gay Viruses.”
*.*.*.*
(FLASH CUTTO: Back LIVE! Hershey Arena – ROOK BLACK stomping a fire out of STEVE KNOX’s skull, if one were burning there. UBER JUDGE gets up and BLACK revs back around with a DISCUS CLOTHESLINE, which misses!)
O’CONNOR: “We’re back and Black’s trying to maintain control of the match, but the Judge has slipped behind – UH-OH! (crowd gets loud!) He’s trying to hook a head and arm suplex, but Rook counters with a back elbow into the exposed ribcage! Judge falls into the ropes, Rook grabs him and sends off an Irish Whip – NO REVERSED! Rook ducks under a discus clothesline, bounced off the ropes – OH! Roaring Elbow! Judge staggers back, hits the ropes! (CROWD POP!) ROARING ELBOW! Rook bounces off the ropes and the Judge ducks under his Elbow – LOOK OUT! (CROWD POP!) HEAD AND ARM SUPLEX! Rook got planted! UJ gets up, but here come Knox! OH! Boot to the gut – kneelift!”
H’WOOD: “These guys are striking pretty hard out there, you gotta figure if Rook gets TWO National Championship matches – he CAN’T mess that up.”
O’CONNOR: “Knox dragging the Judge into the middle of the ring and takes him up and over with a Cradle Suplex! ONE! TWO! NO! Judge kicks out, Knox staying on him with a couple of elbow drops and bounces off the ropes…kneedrop to the head! Judge rolling around after that one and Knox quickly grabs him by the hair and stuffs him between his legs! (crowd gets loud!) He’s trying to lift, but Uber Judge kicks his legs and lands back on his feet! (boos!) Back Body Drop by the Uber Judge! Knox scampers up and WATCH OUT! (CROWD POP!) SPINNING ROARING ELBOW BY UBER JUDGE!”
H’WOOD: “That literally knocked him into next week!”
O’CONNOR: “Knox stumbled and fell out of the ring, he’s all out of sorts as Rook Black’s getting to his feet! (crowd screams!) OHHHHHHHH! DISCUS LARIAT TO THE UBER JUDGE! ROOK COVERS! ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOO! NO! Uber Judge kicks out! Rook maintaining that ultra-composed look…almost as if he’s emotionless in that ring.”
H’WOOD: “If only that was because he had a killer instinct…he’s just weird.”
O’CONNOR: “Rook bringing up Uber Judge to a standing base, and he’s got him around the throat! (crowd gets loud!) We could be seeing a Gauntl—WAIT! (crowd gets LOUDER!) UBER JUDGE COUNTERS WITH HIS OWN CHOKE! They’re playing one freaky game of chicken, both trying to angle for a legsw—WAIT! KNOX! KNOX! He’s got them both and gives them a Noggin’ Knocker! (crowd cheers!) Another! Another! FOUR! (crowd joins!) FIVE! SIX! (crowd screams!) Double Elbow to Knox’s gut! They’ve got him in a double choke! (CHEERS!) Knox with a right boot to Judge! To Rook! LOOK AT THIS! (CROWD EXPLOSION!) DEEEEEE DEEEEEEE TEEEEEEEE! HE GOT ‘EM BOTH WITH THE SINGLE-ARM HOOKS!”
H’WOOD: “Rook Black needs to stop trying to go after this masked freak that’s playing mind games with him. Until I see a consistent strategy I’d agree will win this match for the either of those two, it’s only inevitable that Knox will take advantage like this!”
O’CONNOR: “Knox getting on his feet and he’s going after Uber Judge first, bringing him into a front facelock and now lifts him UHHHHHHHHHHP for a Suplex! (crowd gets loud!) And he’s holding him up a LONG TIME!”
(CLOSEUP: KNOX balancing the judge as ROOK staggers to his feet, KNOX drops down to a crowd roar and then backrolls and bounces off the ropes!)
O’CONNOR: “Look at Knox go! (cheers!) Running Forearm to Rook! Knox signaling to the rafters again and reels in Black, he’s got him UHHHHHHHHHHHP! (LOUD ROARS!) RINSE AND REPEAT, DOWWWWWWWWWWWN THEY FALL!”
H’WOOD: “Knox has to stop showboating a little, he’s playing up to the crowd a little right now.”
(CLOSEUP: KNOX standing in the middle of the ring, smiling widely as BLACK somehow tries to stand up. He shouts “LET’S GET AWESOME!”)
O’CONNOR: “Knox bouncing off the ropes, going a second ti—(GROANS!) OH! UBER JUDGE PULLED HIM OUT! He grabbed his ankle and Knox hits the mat facefirst! I think he was getting ready to hit the Gold Rush Lariat on the stumbling and bumbling Rook Black, who now grabs him…he’s got him UHHHHHHHP! (CROWD EXPLOSION!) POWERBOMB! With a Jacknife Pin! ONNNNNNE! TWOOOOOO! (groans!) OHHHHHH! Running Front Kick to Black’s head by the Judge!”
H’WOOD: “Well, let’s see if this guy can put this one to bed and stop trying to help Black learn something about himself. I’m tired of people doing that…he just needs a good hooker to teach him everything he needs to know.”
O’CONNOR: “Judge peppering Black with forearm strikes and pushes him back into the corner turnbuckles and now sends him off with an Irish Whip into the turnbuckles! (crowd gets loud!) Now, the Judge is going for Knox…I think he’s going to try and send him crashing into Rook! LOOK OUT! REVERSED! (LOUD ROARS!) THE JUDGE NAILS ROOK! They’re BOTH in the corner! Speranza trying to get them unseparated, but Knox yells at him to move! WATCH OUT! (LOUD CRASH! GROANS!) OH NOOOOOOOO! THE JUDGE PULLED SPERANZA BACK IN! HE JUST TOOK THE BRUNT OF THE CLOTHESLINE!”
(CLOSEUP: KNOX stomping around the ring pissed at what’s just happened as he watches SPERANZA flop to the mat, winces as JUDGE falls on the ref and can only shake his head when BLACK lands on both.)
KNOX: “This is NOT awesome.”
(All of a sudden, from under the ring FOUR UBER JUDGES of varying sizes roll out from under the ring as KNOX’s eyes go wide. They’re all wearing the same, exact attire as the UBER JUDGE with slight modifications to the smallest of the squadron wearing a Rising Star headband…and holding a Kendo Stick.)
KNOX: (getting into a readied crouch) “NOT AWESOME. SO NOT AWESOME.”
(CUTTO: One of the masked ‘UBER JUDGES’ rolls in the ring and immediately eats a running clothesline that knocks him out of the ring! The crowd roars as two more roll in the ring, both getting stomped by KNOX!)
O’CONNOR: “This is crazy! The Uber Judge has hatched a plan!”
H’WOOD: “I think I like him much more now!”
O’CONNOR: “Knox fighting off the two…he’s got one around in a bear hug – POPS THE HIPS! (crowd roars!) OVERHEAD RELEASE BELLY TO BELLY! The other jumps at him with a Bodypress as he gets up! (crowd pop!) Knox caught him! OHMYGAHD! (LOUD CRASH!) HE JUST SLAMMED HIM OUT OF THE RING! (CRACK! Groans!) OHNO! (CRACK! More groans!) The Kendo Stick wielding Uber Judge just nailed him in the ribs twice and is now getting the hell out of there!”
H’WOOD: “If that’s P. KING DUK, I could get down with this guy.”
O’CONNOR: “Rook is on his feet, he’s waiting for Knox to turn around! (crowd screams!) HE’S GOT HIM IN THE CHOKEHOLD! (CROWD ROARS!) GAUNTLET BACKHAND! He’s covering Knox, but he doesn’t see Uber Judge climbing the top rope…WITH A GAVEL! (crowd gets loud!) HE’S GOT A GAVEL!”
(CLOSEUP: BLACK slapping his hand on the mat as SPERANZA is motionless to the side. UJ perches with the gavel raised in the air like Excalibur itself.)
O’CONNOR: “OH NOOOOOOO! (CROWD SCREAMS!) HE NAILED ROOK! BLACK’S OUT! BLACK’S OUT!”
(QUICK CUTTO: …A 5th UBER JUDGE running down the ramp…except he’s only got the mask on. He’s wearing a purple/red psychedelic swirled bodysuit, differing himself from the past interference. The crowd gets loud as the Uber Judge tries dragging Speranza to the middle of the ring…)
O’CONNOR: “This only gets stranger and stranger…when will this madness end?”
H’WOOD: “If the Judge wakes up Speranza…probably soon. He’s covering both Knox and Rook, it’d be a smart move if he saw behind him!”
O’CONNOR: (over loud screams!) “And now this 5th UBER JUDGE is climbing the top ropes to the blindside of the ORIGINAL UBER JUDGE! LOOK OUT! (CROWD GROANS!) FROG SPLASH! HE JUST TOOK OUT THE JUDGE, ROOK AND KNOX IN A PILE!”
CROWD: “HOLY SH*T! HOLY SH*T!”
O’CONNOR: “What’s he doing!? What’s he doing!?”
H’WOOD: “This insanity better be in check by the time the main event rolls around!”
O’CONNOR: “The mystery man is out of the ring and he’s left both Steve Knox and The Uber Judge on top of Rook Black! Speranza’s waking up! Speranza’s counting, he doesn’t see them BOTH on Rook! ONNNNNNNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOOOOO! THREEEEEEEEEEEEE! (LOUD ROARS!) I DON’T BELIEVE THIS!”
(CLOSE-UP: UBER JUDGE #5 on the ramp, smiling back as the crowd watches in shock.)
#5: “My friend, My friend…”
O’CONNOR: “That sounded familiar.”
H’WOOD: “Then you must be CRAZY.”
O’CONNOR: “Speranza is calling for the bell, but realizing that an unconscious Uber Judge and Steve Knox are lying on top of Rook Black. I don’t know what the official decision is, but Speranza’s shouting them at Lee-Baby and we should have it in a few moments.”
SIMS: (V/O) “At the time of 13 minutes and 13 seconds, the WINNERS of this match and BOTH advancing to a NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP TITLE SHOT at Crash 46 via DOUBLE PINFALL, THEEEEEEEEEE UBER JUDGE AND STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE KNAHHHHHHHHHXXXXSSSS!”
O’CONNOR: “WOW! Another Triple Threat Match is on the horizon for those two as The Uber Judge and Steve Knox have been credited with VICTORY and will face EITHER Nova or Teresa Quaranta at Crash 46 – dependent upon the result of their match.”
H’WOOD: “Too bad everyone’s completely conked ‘cause I’d LOVE to see their reactions right now.”
O’CONNOR: “We’ll be right back as we hit the HOMESTRETCH to this evening’s GRAND FINALES!”
V/O: “The following message is being brought to you by LeQuan Enterprises.”
CUE UP: “Cowboys From Hell” by Pantera.
The lights flicker as three men make their way out to the middle of the ring. All three wear neo-retro cowboy hats and aviator glasses. Two of the men act as bodyguards and keep the fans from grasping and groping at the gentiles of the third man. All three enter the ring, and the “third man” asks for a microphone.
His GXW t-shirt is ripped down the sides and hangs like a child’s poncho over his torso. He slowly removes his aviators and his cowboy hat, handing them to one of his bodyguards, revealing himself as KIN HIROSHI.
H’WOOD: (V/O) “Ok…I thought we’d be having a match right about now.”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “So did I…but apparently, Kin Hiroshi is IN the building tonight…and has chosen the moment before two HUGE main event matches to make a statement tonight.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “How do you know?”
O’CONNOR: (V/O) “He’s got a microphone in his hands.”
H’WOOD: (V/O) “…shutup.”
KIN HIROSHI: “Strange things are afoot at the Circle K, my friends. It seems like only yesterday that I was walking around backstage as the undisputed NFW Champion. I remember the cheers, and the jeers, and how no one appreciated me as the FIRST Unified NFW Champion.
“Let me take you all back just a bit further. Just over a year ago, I, The Blueberry Bomber, The Sultan of Suzette, the King of Crepes, the Man from Japan, THE Muffin Man, Kin Hiroshi, won the NFW World Championship from Felix Red. I gave EVERYTHING to win that title. The TRUE NFW fans know that I died in my pursuit, but was brought back because my job wasn’t done yet.”
Hiroshi waves his finger in the air as he marches around the ring.
KIN HIROSHI: “OH! My job IS faaaaaaaaaar from done. You see, I proceeded to retain my title against Mittens T. Cat and, that dirty c*cksucker, Jason Payne the following night, and something in me changed. I knew I had to keep that title from the sin that was befalling the TRUE NFW. I had to keep it safe from men like Nova and Dan Ryan. Hell, from men like those in back who are calling the shots and telling everyone what to do and how to act.
“I was wrong to be so selfish, but I realized there was a deeper meaning in Felix Red’s title reign. He had seen in me all the same things that I was finally seeing in everyone coming for MY title! For the first time I was thinking clearly! For the first time I realized that I had followed in my Second Father’s footsteps! I was slowly becoming Felix Red Jr.
“Then everything disappeared.”
HUGE pop to an image from Crashmas 6 of Dan Ryan pinning Felix Red with a bridged Dragon Suplex.
KIN HIROSHI: “Look hard at that screen, children, and tell me what you see. Here’s what I see. Dan Ryan pinning the non-champion, Felix Red, to become the new Undisputed NFW World Champion. I’m not even in the picture. In fact…
“..at that point in time, Kin Hiroshi didn’t even exist!”
Confusion sets in on the crowd, as footage from Crashmas 6 starts to play.
SPLIT-SCREEN REPLAY: FELIX RED launching off with an attempted Moonsault Bodypress on DAN RYAN who sidesteps and then watches as Felix DOUBLE STOMPS the chair on HIROSHI’s head!)
O’CONNOR: (over crowd buzzing!) “Kin Hiroshi is on the mat, not even moving…Dan Ryan’s quickly covering him! ONE! TWO! (CHEERS!) Felix slides in safely with a dropkick to Ryan’s head! Ryan and Red getting up and Felix uses the momentum to push Ryan up and over the top rope and out of the ring!”
H’WOOD: “Kin’s not moving…this could be serious stuff.”
O’CONNOR: “Felix drops to a cover on the motionless Hiroshi! (w/ crowd!) ONNNNNNNNNE! TWOOOOOOOOOO! THRRRRRRRRRRRR(LOUD GROANS!) NOOOOOOOO! HIROSHI SPASTICALLY KICKS OUT!”
H’WOOD: “How in the hell does he NOT have significant head damage after that!?”
O’CONNOR: “Woodman, I think the jury’s still out on that one ‘cause Kin’s crawling around like a blind man with that chair still around his neck…(crowd buzzes!) Oooh, he just tumbled out of the ring and took a spill!”
H’WOOD: “This is getting weird, Beanfry.”
O’CONNOR: “Hiroshi’s finally torn the chair off his head and he’s looking around frantically for something! …I don’t know what’s going on with him, but here comes Red following him out of the r—WAIT! DAN RYAN ON THE SCENE! (CRACK! GROANS!) Ryan just pulled Red by the tights and sent him flying into the barricade…and Kin’s acting like he’s seen a ghost! As soon as he saw that, he just leapt to his feet and climbed into the crowd!”
(CLOSEUP: HIROSHI standing in the crowd looking at everyone in shock, his head lacerated across the top…)
HIROSHI: (to fan) “Where in the hell am I?!”
FAN: (tossing his beer at KIN) “YOU’RE IN F(BLEEP!)ING NFW DOOOOOOOOD!”
(HIROSHI swats it away and starts backing up further into the crowd just as DAN RYAN starts stalking towards him.)
RYAN: “GET THE F*CK BACK HERE YOU IDIOT!”
(HIROSHI looks wide-eyed at RYAN and jets into the crowd!)
O’CONNOR: “What in the hell is going on!? Kin Hiroshi…the NFW World Champion…he’s running through the crowd and towards the exit to the concession area!”
H’WOOD: “L