Fresh!3rd October 2006
Introduction
FEATURING:
AUTHOR:
What's here is decent; what's missing is substantial; and what's evident is that it's all very, very late. We're sorry.
Have a read, but if this is your first time reading AWC, trust me when I say that this show is not representative of our true ability. Wait until next time to read a proper AWC show; this really is a low and we're going to have our noses against the grindstone to turn it immediately back around. This show, with THREE matches missing (one has been cut completely due to the fantastically awful triple crown of both roleplayers and the writer no-showing without word), couldn't actually fall any lower if its proper Introduction was missing - so with that in mind, I'm not going to take the time to write one; it's time to sort out Untouchable. AWC members - help me here. Please. If you don't have a match organised, EMAIL ME.
Thank you, and, er, enjoy the show?
A Nose For Dodging Questions
FEATURING: CAPTAIN SULEIMON, PIERRE PERROQUET, PARROT OF PERROQUET
AUTHOR: TOM HOLZERMAN
Backstage, the ever-pleasant Captain Suleimon, wearing a protective face-guard, is standing by with Pierre Perroquet and his PARROT~!
Pierre Perroquet: Hunh hunh, Monsieur Suleimon...
Captain Suleimon: That's Captain to you, French swine.
Parrot of Perroquet: SQUAWK! French swine! French swine!
Pierre Perroquet: Silence! Oui, Capitan Suleimon, jou were not on ze AWC television last week. What was ze reason for jour absence?
Captain Suleimon: As you saw two weeks ago on Fresh!, I was assaulted by two Prometheus laden monsters...
Pierre Perroquet: But ze Afeaki, he is not on ze serum, no?
Captain Suleimon: Sure, you continue to believe those lies that the Empire feeds you, that their employs are all clean and free of performance enhancing drugs, but would a person not under the influence of such a serum be able to recover so fast from a somersault Arabian facebuster? And how could someone not under the influence of that serum break my nose, which is part of a skeletal system fortified by three glasses of milk from the healthiest Turkish sheep? Tell me!
Parrot of Perroquet: SQUAWK! Tell me! Tell me!
Pierre Perroquet: Silence! I apologize for ze bird, mon Capitan. Any'ow, jour absence...
Captain Suleimon: I had a broken nose that I needed to take care of. Nothing more, nothing less.
Pierre Perroquet: I see... one more question, ze man in ze gray jump suit. 'oo was he?
Captain Suleimon: I don't know what you're talking about.
Pierre Perroquet: Jou do not? Jou had to have seen 'im, he tried to intervene in jour match before ze Juggernaut took him out.
Captain Suleimon: Must have been while my back was turned...
Pierre Perroquet: But...
Captain Suleimon: This interview is over.
Suleimon exits, stage right.
Parrot of Perroquet: SQUAWK! Interview over! Interview over!
Pierre Perroquet: *sigh*
Protection
FEATURING: GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY, DAVID HARBER
AUTHOR: JOSH K.
Garbage Bag Johnny was highly impressed by his trip to the Empire skybox last week on Fresh!. This week, he has decided to head up for a second look at the skybox, this time without invitation. Heading up the stairs, Garbage Bag finds his way easily to the plush headquarters of David Harber and his evil Empire. He knocks on the door, surprisingly devoid of any Drakewerx security, before prematurely opening it himself. Across the room, Harber is sitting in his chair, turned around to watch the action from his skybox view. Garbage Bag stealthily makes his way to the desk without Harber noticing.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Mr. Harber?
Harber jumps, obviously rattled at Johnny’s presence before turning around and noticing that it is actually Garbage Bag Johnny who has slipped his way into the skybox. The look on Harber’s face sours.
David Harber: You’re not supposed to be in here without an appointment and clearance!
Garbage Bag Johnny: Yeah, but this was kind of an emergency.
David Harber: What is it this time, Johnny?
Harber motions for GBJ to sit down across from him and the TA champ obliges before telling his side.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Well, as part of our deal last week, you said you wouldn’t surprise me with any title shots, and I know I don’t have one tonight, but facing Chainz kind of jeopardizes my chances at Untouchable. I can’t rightly defend my title if Chainz rips one of my limbs off… unless it’s a handicapped match!
Garbage Bag Johnny starts chuckling and slaps his knee. Harber just shakes his head, but his gaze turns to stone as he stares at Johnny, who seems to be stuck in an infinite laughing spell.
David Harber: Johnny? Johnny!
Garbage Bag Johnny: Oh, where was I? Ah, yes. I was just thinking that if I lost the title to Paddy as a result of being maimed by Chainz, I wouldn’t be able to put the title on the line at Triangles with Pierce Lavelle.
David Harber: I can see how that’s in both of our best interests, but what do you want me to do about it? I can’t cancel the match now. It’s the main event tonight.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I just thought it would be nice if I had a little bit of protection going into the match.
David Harber: Well, Chainz has been sort of a problem for the Empire lately. I suppose I can have Juggernaut or Gabs close by in case things start to get too out of hand.
Garbage Bag Johnny: No, that won’t be necessary. I just want your approval on something. I was wondering if I could just wear a suit of armor during the match tonight. I made it myself.
David Harber: I guess. Wait. You make armor?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Sure! All the time. I’m working on my blacksmithing license you know. But I’m a big fan of those medieval fairs. We should go sometime. We could eat gigantic turkey legs, practice archery, and buy crafts. They have all this multicolored glasswork that looks pretty freaking awesome when you’re out of your mind on magic mushrooms.
David Harber: I think I’ll pass, but knock yourself out on the armor.
Garbage Bag Johnny reaches out and shakes Harber’s hand vigorously while thanking him, until Harber tries to pull his hand away and GBJ’s head falls and crashes against the table, scattering papers all over the place.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Whoa! Hold on! I think my beard is caught in your cufflink! Harber sighs and untangles GBJ’s long beard hair from his arm.
David Harber: Alright, now just get out of my skybox before you really screw anything up.
David Harber bends behind his desk to reorganize the fallen papers. When he gets up, Garbage Bag Johnny is already gone. Harber sighs again and looks at the clock in the skybox- the grandfather clock…
David Harber: That son of a bitch stole my pendulum!
AgentDash vs Josh Marquez vs Bryce Savion vs Leah Adams
STIPULATION: FOUR WAY ELIMINATION - #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO LIVEWIRE TITLE
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: KRIS
'Bring Me To Life' - by Evanessance starts to play, the crowd gives a mixed reaction to the appearance of Bryce Savion, who ignores them and moves into the ring first.
Dave Kern: Returning this week from a debut match with Aimz.
Jeff Marx: Must be hard coming back after a loss to a girl.
The opening drum beat to mewithoutYou's "Tie Me Up! Untie Me!" comes to life over the arena PA as the lights fade slightly. The arena remains silent and as the opening guitar chords jerk into the song AgentDash steps out from behind the curtains and onto the stage. The reaction is undecided, but if one had to choose, the crowd does sound slightly unimpressed with his arrival. Dash strides to the ring smoothly with a slight smirk on his face, ignoring the fans jeers. He arrives at ringside and slides in. He uses the ropes to strech out his arms as he waits for his opponent.
Jeff Marx: A heavy favorite in this match up.
Dave Kern: Indeed AgentDash has been nothing short of impressive. A possibility for Livewire champion.
Jeff Marx: He is a little short but that's got nothing to do with his abilities in the ring.
'Fire Starter' - by Prodigy hits the PA and Leah Adams bounces from the back to a round of cheers.
Dave Kern: They're cheering for her more than AgentDash?
Jeff Marx: Boobs Dave, boobs.
As ‘Ace Of Spades’ starts, searchlights move around the arena, coming to rest on the entranceway as Marquez appears. In his one of his hands he plays with some poker chips or a deck of cards as he makes his way slowly to the ring. When he reaches it, he rolls in under the bottom rope before turning and smiling at the hard camera, throwing the chips into the air.
Dave Kern: A round of applause for the mid atlantic dare devil.
Jeff Marx: As fearless as he is cowardly, it's all in how the dice roll.
Marquez climbs onto the ring apron, looking in at the three sets of anxious eyes and thinks better. He turns and drives a shot into Bryce's shoulder and drops off the apron as Savion moves to counter. The bell rings the start of the match.
Dave Kern: Josh starts this match with a cheap shot!
Jeff Marx: An excellent strategy, better than climbing into the ring with three hostile opponents.
The Agent leaps forward and drives a boot into the back of Savion's knee, Bryce stumbles and gets an arm in time to block a big forearm shot. Leah Adams blindsides AgentDash with a drop kick that sends him to the mat. Leah moves to capitalize but Dash rolls out under the bottom rope.
Dave Kern: Dash taking the Marquez route leaving Leah and Bryce, both making their second Fresh! appearances.
Bryce hammers Leah with a forearm to the back and she sprawls to the mat, he follows it with a few hard boots before running to the ropes and coming off with a flashy cartwheel leg drop. But Leah isn't there! Marquez comes screaming around the side of the ring and slams into AgentDash with a huge right hand. Agent hits the floor hard and Marquez slides into the ring, break the count.
Dave Kern: The pace is being set on overdrive both inside and outside of the ring.
Jeff Marx: Marquez looks like the only one playing with a solid game plan.
Marquez stands in the ring just as Leah straddles Bryce and starts raining down lefts and rights. Bryce uses his advantage of strength and powers Leah off of his chest, sending her to the ropes and just in time for Marquez to come off the ropes and hit him with a hard elbow drop.
Dave Kern: Capitalizing on a situation.
Jeff Marx: Like I said, in a match like this game plan is everything.
Leah hangs off the ropes and looks up Josh as he backs away from Bryce and makes eye contact with her. Her eyes move to a place behind Josh and he instinctively turns and ducks, luckily dodgeing a precision perfect Agent Kick.
Jeff Marx: If never I believed Marquez to have a horse shoe in ass, I have been made a liar.
Leah Adams comes off the middle rope and plants a solid side kick into Dash's chest. He stumbles back into the ropes and Marquez takes a hold whipping him across into the other ropes. Josh hits a scoop slam hard. Leah bounces off the ropes and plants a moonsault.
Dave Kern: Leah and Marquez working together!
Jeff Marx: Game plan, Josh uses the weakest link to his advantage.
Savion gathers Marquez from behind and locks his hands.
Dave Kern: That Horse Shoe might be wearing off!
Jeff Marx: All good things must come to an end!
Belly to back release suplex!
Jeff Marx: Oh look at the distance!
Leah sees Marquez hit the turnbuckles hard, Bryce springboards to his feet and hits her with a right hand! A left to the gut, he grabs her hair in both hands and drops it down on his knee.
Dave Kern: What a brutal assault from Bryce!
Jeff Marx: There's no room for gender analysis in the ring! Equal opportunity, equal hazard.
Marquez comes out of the corner with his mouth moving and his face twisted in anger, Savion from a kneeled position looks over his shoulder just in time to take a right across the chops. Josh grabs Savion's shoulders and throws him to the mat, mounting him he hammers lefts and rights, the ref circling frantically.
Dave Kern: With a head full of steam Marquez reasserts his dominance!
Jeff Marx: Bryce's own fault really.
AgentDash grabs Leah's arms from outside the ring! Using the ropes he stretches her arms out wide and holds it until Reid pulls his attention from Josh and Bryce. Reid yells at Dash and points his finger across menacingly warning him to keep it clean.
Dave Kern: AgentDash with a little dirty play keeping Leah away from helping Josh weaken Bryce.
Jeff Marx: Of everybody in the ring I felt Dash would figure out the score.
Josh pushes past with a suicide dive through the middle ropes!
Dave Kern: INSANE!
Jeff Marx: The dice are rollin hot tonight!
Leah recovers quickly, using the ropes to get to her feet she sees a down Savion. Bouncing to the middle turnbuckle she sets up and launches a leg drop but Savion rolls out of the way! On the outside Marquez has Dash on his feet and whips him into the ring apron hard.
Jeff Marx: Josh is doing a great job of herding his opponents.
Bryce throws Leah into the corner and follows her in fast with a clothesline that has her legs kicking up in the air. Holding her breasts but still standing Leah looks disoriented as Bryce grabs her in a headlock and pulls her into the middle of the ring. He swings and drops a savage neck breaker!
Dave Kern: Bryce Savion turning the tables on Leah!
Jeff Marx: Dash and Josh both caught outside the ring!
Bryce makes the pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Marquez breaks the count! Pulling on Savion's leg still half out of the ring.
Dave Kern: Marquez barely makes the save!
Jeff Marx: Saves don't come any closer than that!
AgentDash pulls Marquez back out of the ring and drops him on his back on the floor. Holding the bottom rope Dash lays into Josh with stomps while Bryce inside the ring sends Leah into ropes and catches her with a, no she slides between his legs!
Jeff Marx: The minx!
Dave Kern: AgentDash is turning the tables on Josh on the outside.
Jeff Marx: And Leah on Bryce on the inside.
She hits the ropes and comes back with a diving forearm that connects hard with Savion's chest.
Dave Kern: Powerful turn around for Leah Adams.
Jeff Marx: And important if Josh hopes to hold his plan together!
Dash is back in the ring and drags Leah to her feet and hits her with a standing clothesline in the same action. He jumps over her and comes onto the ropes, bouncing off the ropes and launching backwards, twisting in mid-air and body splashes into Leah. The fans stomping and chanting.
Dave Kern: What a move!
Jeff Marx: AgentDash wears his experience well.
Bryce lands on Dash with a double fisted slam, scrambling to his feet he delivers a sharp kick to Dashes side. But AgentDash snatches it and pulls it out from under him! Savion hits the mat hard and Dash takes his stance holding that leg.
Dave Kern: Bryce who should be helping Dash, at least for these moments, has tried to capitalize.
Jeff Marx: Dash isn't the type to rely on anybody, and thus remains in a perpetual state of self awareness.
Dave Kern: Really?
Jeff Marx: No but that was sweet, am I right?
He drives a stomp into Bryce's inner thigh, and another before drop a sit out leg drop on his loins.
Dave Kern: Savion has not had any luck tonight.
Savion rolls in pain before Dash makes the pin attempt, but Josh is climbing the ring apron fast!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Marquez breaks the count with a swan dive from the top rope!
Jeff Marx: Damn you Josh!
Dave Kern: It looks like they do come closer than that, Jeff!
Jeff Marx: That's twice he's made me a liar!
Marquez rolls around on the mat holding his arm, Leah scrambles to make a pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Dash kicks out! His fist in the air defiantly!
Dave Kern: Change his name to Agent Determination!
Jeff Marx: That's just stupid Dave. Leah fails to steal the pin, folks. Why do you have to say those things Dave?
Dave Kern: What?
Jeff Marx: Stupid things like that, you make us look bad.
Dave Kern: I didn't know...
Jeff Marx: Well now you do.
Bryce attacks Leah from the side but she rolls for the ropes and right out to the floor. Savion hits the ropes but lets her go, turning for Marquez he stomps on his shoulder before grabbing a couple handfuls of hair.
Dave Kern: Leah makes a quick escape but Josh isn't so lucky!
Jeff Marx: See, just call it like you always do.
Pulling Marquez into a standing position he jumps and plants both feet into Josh's chest. Marquez is launched into the corner and sits down holding his head.
Jeff Marx: Bryce hammers that one home!
Dave Kern: Josh is feeling the effects of his pace, could his game plan be falling apart?
Jeff Marx: Doubtful.
AgentDash spears Savion out of nowhere!
Dave Kern: AgentDash again puts Savion away!
Jeff Marx: Though Josh would have done better teaming with Dash with Leah methinks.
Marquez starts pulling himself up the turnbuckles as AgentDash starts crawling to his feet. Dash gets a pair of shaky legs beneath him as Marquez steps out of the corner.
Dave Kern: The two most dominant forces in the ring right now.
Jeff Marx: The only two standing you mean.
They collide and lock up, Marquez turns momentum and throws Dash into the ropes. Dash ducks the clothesline and hits a drop kick on a recovering Savion!
Dave Kern: Savion cannot catch a break!
Jeff Marx: What did you honestly expect?
Bryce falls out of the ring as Leah slides back in the opposite side. Dash gets to his feet as Leah and Josh both hit him with boots to the gut.
Dave Kern: Double teaming the Agent!
Double vertical stalling suplex!
Josh locks Leah's arm from behind and throws her over the top rope!
Dave Kern: Marquez pulls the ace out of his sleeve!
Jeff Marx: See? Game plan!
Dropping he goes for the pin. ONE!
TWO!
AgentDash kicks out again! The crowd is booing as Marquez pulls himself off and Dash's arm drops again to the mat.
Dave Kern: Agent Determination indeed!
Jeff Marx: There you go again, this is embarrasing.
Marquez leans back on his haunches and breaths deeply.
Dave Kern: Marquez taking a moment to collect his breath.
Jeff Marx: He should be capitalizing.
Dave Kern: He's fought to maintain control over four people he must be feeling the wear.
Jeff Marx: There's no scheduled breaks in any game plan, Dave.
Josh suddenly looks to the left, looks right, breaks to his feet and baseball slides Bryce from climbing the ring apron!
Dave Kern: What a move!
Jeff Marx: I didn't even see it coming!
Dave Kern: Bryce has been rolling snake eyes almost all night.
Jeff Marx: Sad but true!
Marquez gets to his feet and AgentDash hammers him to the corner with well timed Agent Kick to the shoulder.
Jeff Marx: AgentDash catches Josh unaware!
Dave Kern: Karma is coming back with bite!
Jeff Marx: AgentDash is taking the opportunity created by Josh's game plan!
Marquez stumbles out and right into a Star Struck!!
Dave Kern: Leah Adams is still on her knees outside the ring! Bryce Savion is laid on the floor.
Jeff Marx: There's nobody to save him!
Dave Kern: He's counted them out! Joseph Reid has eliminated Savion and Adams via count-out and now counts the fall...
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Dave Kern: AgentDash pulling out a game plan of his own!
Jeff Marx: He did that indeed and pulls away with an impressive win over three up and comers. He goes on to fight for the Livewire title at Untouchable!
Titanic I
FEATURING: JOHNNY LEXICON, GUARD
AUTHOR: KRIS
The camera watches as a smokey grey Rolls Royce Phantom pulls into the parkinglot and comes to a stop. The driver's side door opens and Johnny Lexicon climbs out of the drivers seat, in his usual dark blue jeans and denim jacket over another Pierce Lavelle t-shirt. He pulls out first his duffle bag and then a little golden retreiver puppy.
The camera switches to Johnny stepping through the entrance doors and a figure moving hastily to intercept the Frontier title challenger.
Guard: Late again I see.
Johnny Lexicon: You've got to be kidding me, it's what? Three minutes past.
Guard: Rules are rules Mr. Lexicon. I had hoped last week settled in, but I can see we'll be well acquainted.
Johnny Lexicon: Gimme a break man, my ex-wife didn't get the proper papers to fly this stupid dog so now I have to figure out what I'm going to do with it.
Guard: I'm glad you brought that up, you see, you can't bring that in here.
Johnny Lexicon: Don't even start with me man.
Guard: If you insist on bringing an animal into the arena I'm going to have to fine you.
The guard is already flipping through his note pad. Johnny puts the puppy down and sets his duffle bag next to it. Fishing in his pocket for a small wad of bills.
Johnny Lexicon: How much is it going to take?
Guard: Excuse me?
Johnny Lexicon: I've only got a couple hundred, I didn't get paid this week.
Johnny snarls at the beak nosed employee. The guard flips his paper up and starts writing anew.
Johnny Lexicon: What are you doing?
Guard: I'm writing you up for trying to bribe me.
Johnny Lexicon: You don't understand how much I want to.
Johnny's fingers curl into hooks as he makes the motion of strangeling a man.
Guard: Uhm. Where's you dog?
Johnny Lexicon: Titan?
Johnny checks by his bag. Gone.
Johnny Lexicon: Shit. Titan! C'mere boy.
He lets out a sharp whistle, grabbing his bag and dashing away from the guard, his head bobbing as he checks under tables, chairs, and people.
The camera pans back to the guard as he crosses his arm and narrows his eyes.
You've Got Mail!
FEATURING: TERESA TOMAS
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
It's all quiet in the locker room as Teresa Tomas casts a despondent look at the wall opposite her, from which her near-naked body, adorning the cover of the latest issue of AWC Magazine, stares out. AWC never normally goes to town on decorating the locker rooms, and Tomas is convinced (with reason) that the only reason Kasidy Drake has agreed to spend money framing and putting up almost 30 magazine covers across the walls of this one is to enable David Harber to further get at her.
As she notices a white envelope sliding under the door, she is blissfully unaware of how much worse things are due to get.
Tomas collects the envelope before opening the door:
Teresa Tomas: Hello?
and looking left, right, all the way down and up the corridor. Nobody in sight.
Now she sees that the envelope is addressed to her and rips it open. Her expression of intrigue turns quickly to despondence when she reads the contents:
"Teresa,
You've bought yourself a match at Untouchable.
Best of luck taking down Gabriel Afeaki.
Love,
David Harber."
And she winces.
Trickery, Thy Name Is Tracy
FEATURING: TRACY STANTON, DR. KASIDY DRAKE, DAVID HARBER, JUGGERNAUT KINTU
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
The voluptuous and beautiful Tracy Stanton made her way up to the skybox of The Empire, the scene of her assault last week. Why would she be going there again and why would she have a smile etched on her pretty face? Something was abrew.
Without knocking she pushed the door open – unguarded by Drakewerx this week – and stepped into the skybox, where David Harber, Kasidy Drake, and LeVar Kintu were seated watching the show beneath them. Again the absence of Gabriel Afeaki did more to unsettle than reassure viewers - if the Fijian Lion wasn't here, then where WAS he, and more importantly what was he doing? And who with?
Kasidy Drake: What the hell do you think you’re doing here?
Tracy didn’t respond, but instead removed her ridiculously large sunglasses. She was sporting a rather large and nasty bruise. The blue, black, and purple spot was seriously out of place on her otherwise perfect face.
Tracy: We have to talk, I won’t accept this.
She pulled out a sheet of paper and placed it in front of Drake, who took it and started reading.
Kasidy Drake: You’re suing me, what for?
Tracy: Sexual harassment, you grabbed my breasts last week when I repeatedly said no.
Kasidy Drake: Oh get off it, my hand brushed against you. I didn’t grab anything.
David Harber rose and left the skybox, obviously not entertained by the legal talk that he was sure was coming.
Tracy: I don’t care what you think happened, I know what happened. You harassed me and got your big dumb monkey to attack me.
LeVar Kintu shifted in his stance, but a hand wave from Drake held him in place.
Kasidy Drake: Look, I’m going to tell you what I’ve told so many before. You even think of taking this any further my lawyers will rip you to shreds. You think what happened last week was bad; wait until they’re done with you.
Tracy seemed a bit taken back by Drake and his firm stance on the subject. She had expected to scare him with the threat of a lawsuit, but he didn’t seem phased in the least.
Tracy: It’ll ruin you as well, I’ve got nothing to hide anyway.
Kasidy Drake: We’ve all got something to hide and I don’t think you want my people snooping around. So do me a favor and get that bony ass out of my office before I put LeVar on you again.
Tracy sighed and reached for the papers, knocking over Drake’s coffee in the process.
Kasidy Drake: Damn!
Kasidy Drake leaned over the desk and reached for his now empty mug that landed on the floor next to his desk. Now it became clear what her intentions had been all along.
On the corner of the table sat a small container and inside was the infamous Prometheus Serum that was used to make Kintu the monster he was. Tracy quickly and stealthily grabbed the container and shoved it in the only place where it’d be safe; right in between her two pillows.
Tracy: You and your associates are all sick pigs. Michael will teach you all a lesson.
Kasidy Drake: Dream on.
Drake laughed as Tracy scurried out of the office. Kintu approached the desk and stood ready for Drake’s orders.
Kasidy Drake: Don’t worry about all that, I took care of it. Now let’s get you your booster so you’re ready for action…
Kasidy Drake reached for the container and was shocked to find it missing, and then the realization hit him.
Kasidy Drake: Shit.
He rose from the desk and walked to the door of the skybox, turning to give Kintu some final directions.
Kasidy Drake: Stay here, I’ll get the Serum from that skank and be back soon.
Kasidy Drake stepped out of the skybox, leaving Juggernaut Kintu all by himself.
Blue Ruin vs Captain Suleimon
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: JAMIE ROGERSON
Match to be added. Spoiler winner (highlight to view): CAPTAIN SULEIMON.
Titanic II
FEATURING: JOHNNY LEXICON, DARCY CRISIS, LEAH ADAMS
AUTHORS: KRIS AND NATE
Johnny Lexicon: Where the hell are. You.
Johnny comes to a halt, his gaze previously restricted to the lower regions of the halls now travel up the legs, waist, and chest of Frontier champion, Darcy Crisis. Darcy flashes a smile and it's gone.
Johnny straightens his shoulders.
Johnny Lexicon: Have you seen a little golden retriever puppy?
Darcy frowns and shakes his head.
Johnny Lexicon: Right. Well. If you do see it, be sure to let me know alright?
Darcy just continues to look at him, Johnny squirms a little under the scrutiny.
Darcy Crisis: Hey, I just wanted to congratulate you on getting a shot at my title tonight. Coming out on top on the plus side of a 4 on 1 handicap is the stuff legends are made of.
Johnny Lexicon: Let me just stop you right there. Save the trash talk, I've got a lost puppy to find. It took four of us, one can't beat you, I haven't got what it takes, I didn't earn my shot. Am I missing anything?
Darcy narrows his eyes but Johnny continues before he can say anything.
Johnny Lexicon: But let's not forget my snappy comebacks.
Dangerous grin.
Johnny Lexicon: Can't satisfy your woman so if you can't keep her might aswell beat her, right? You have two things to worry about, and neither of them include a war of words with me. First you better go plan a strategy on how you're gonna beat me tonight then hope to hell I don't have it covered. Second, wonder why your woman is gonna fight you to keep you. It's called self respect, I think it comes in pills now.
Darcy grabs the larger Lexicon by the front of his shirt and slams his back into the wall. Johnny growls, wrapping his hands around Darcy's wrists' but he doesn't fight back.
Darcy Crisis: Listen, surfer boy. I'm already fired up as HELL for Untouchable. You got your title shot alright, but trust me: the LAST thing you want to do is get on my bad side. And if you ever talk like that about Amy Campbell again, I swear to God I'll fuck you up twice as bad as what I do to her.
Darcy's voice drips with warning and Johnny can only meet his glare evenly.
Darcy Crisis: I'll see you tonight.
Darcy releases his grip and turns to walk away.
Johnny Lexicon: Yeah. Best of luck.
Sarcasm.
Johnny fixes his shirt as a smile plays across his lips, nodding as Darcy leaves without another word. Turning away himself Johnny starts humming Every Rose has it's Thorn and knocks quickly on a door. He turns the knob and sticks his head in.
Johnny Lexicon: Titan?
Leah Adams: GET OUT!
Johnny Lexicon: Oh Leah.
Johnny smiles.
Johnny Lexicon: You are fit.
Johnny takes a shoe to the face.
Johnny Lexicon: Oh shit.
He closes the door and checks his nose for blood.
Johnny Lexicon: God damn.
He chuckles, looking as if contemplating another peek.
Leah Adams: Don't even think about it.
The lock clicks into place.
Leah Adams: Creep.
Johnny looks up and spies movement ahead.
Johnny Lexicon: Titan!
He dashes off, the camera turning to follow until he too rounds the corner.
Hank Cobb vs D'avid
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: COLBY
Match to be added. Spoiler winner (highlight to view): IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER.
Gorilla Warfare
FEATURING: JUGGERNAUT KINTU, CHAINZ, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY
AUTHORS: MIKE S. AND JOSH K.
LeVar Kintu stood in the skybox, looking down on the people below. Suddenly the door swung open and Chainz stood in the door frame. He looked pissed, what else is new?
Kintu saw him and immediately looked over to the desk to see what should be done, but he was all alone.
Chainz: Aww, what’s the matter big boy, your master gone? I bet he didn’t even have time to give you your shot.
LeVar Kintu stood motionless as Chainz approached him and stood face to face with the giant.
Chainz: What you say if I called you the biggest pile of shit I’ve ever laid eyes on?
Kintu took a wild swing, but Chainz was too fast and ducked out of the way. He headed to the door and motioned for Kintu to follow, who foolishly obliged.
Chainz walked backwards leading Kintu as a man leads a dog. Finally he darted into a door and shut it behind him. Kintu stood outside the door and started pounding on it, trying to break it in. The door suddenly burst open hitting Kintu in the face.
He stumbled back and allowed for Chainz to emerge, a steel chain wrapped around his fist.
Chainz: Let’s see how you like it.
Chainz unleashed a vicious fist right into the face of Kintu who dropped to a knee. Chainz ran forward and drove a knee into the forehead of the Kintu who now fell onto his back.
Chainz: Guess it’s true, the bigger they are the more noise they make falling down.
Juggernaut tried to rise back up, but another steel fist brought him back down. His forehead was no bleeding as the giant began crawling away from Chainz.
Chainz: Oh what, you ain’t having fun now are ya?
Chainz kicked Kintu in the gut which nearly caused him to collapse to the ground. Chainz lifting Kintu up and threw him into a table full of food. He mounted LeVar and began throwing punches, each one finding their mark with deadly accuracy.
Chainz: You know I’m just doing this for your own good. You have to learn to keep your hands off my girl.
Chainz rose and started kicking Kintu while the giant tried to cover up as best he could.
Chainz: Now you know how I punish the little kiddies who don’t behave?
Chainz let the chain unwrap and held the length in front of him. He started spinning it and began whipping the back of Kintu with skill, obviously having experience in it.
Chainz: Ooooohhhh, look at that flesh fly, bet it hurts doesn’t it? Let me try!
He took the chain and started whipping his own back, getting a sick pleasure out of the pain he was inflicting upon himself.
Chainz: Mmmm, that hurts so good.
He went back to whipping Kintu.
Chainz: You know I’m almost jealous of you, having all this fun at no expense.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Umm.
With Kintu out of commission on the floor, Chainz recognizes the voice of the Transatlantic champion. Chainz curses under his breath and then turns to see Garbage Bag Johnny... wearing a gorilla costume. The gorilla mask is tucked under GBJ's right arm as he eats a banana.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Sorry I'm late for the gorilla warfare. Looks like you've got things under control though.
Chainz starts toying with the chain, wrapping it tightly around his knuckles to relieve the stress that's building up at the sight of his opponent wearing a gorilla costume.
Chainz: You dumb piece of shit. Why the hell are you wearing a gorilla costume?
Garbage Bag Johnny: I thought you mentioned something about gorilla warfare. I just thought I'd give you a hand.
Chainz: First of all, I don't need any help from you. Second, guerilla warfare has nothing to do with primates.
Garbage Bag Johnny sheepishly looks at the ground, embarrassed at the misunderstanding.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I see. Well... you want a banana?
Garbage Bag Johnny holds a banana up for Chainz to take. Instead, Chainz whips his chain at the banana, and the top part of the banana severs off instantly and falls to the floor. GBJ's eyes widen at the sight of the decapitated banana. He drops the bottom half on the floor and runs off wearing the gorilla costume. Chainz starts chuckling to himself maniacally.
Chainz: Maybe I should laugh more often. I hear it lowers the blood pressure. See ya Kintu, don’t take this personally.
Chainz gives Kintu one last kick and heads off, twirling the chain with happiness.
Peace Offering
FEATURING: TERESA TOMAS, RED ROCK
AUTHORS: SONYA AND JOSH Y.
”…Hey Teresa…”
A familiar voice stops Teresa in her tracks. Backstage, she is on her way to pay someone a visit. Not booked for a match tonight, she carries nothing but her pack of smokes in the front pocket of her jeans. Not even a whiskey bottle. She turns around.
Teresa Tomas: Red, how’s it goin?
Red Rock clears his throat and rakes his fingers through his hair nervously. So far he has been on good terms with the Redneck Princess and hopes like hell recent events hasn’t jeopardized that. The thought of that woman releasing her venom on him brings shivers up his spine.
Red Rock: Umm… Teresa… about last week with D’avid, I… uh… I… want to apologize. Silence passes between the two ‘acquaintances’ as Teresa recaps D’avid’s pursuit of her last week. If she hadn’t been so drunk, the outcome would’ve been quite different and Teresa would be apologizing to Red. Finally, Teresa sighs.
Teresa Tomas: You’re not his baby sitter Red. I don’t understand why you even bother with him, but hey, none of my business.
Teresa turns to leave but Red Rock reluctantly reaches for her arm stopping her. He places something in her hand. It’s a handmade bracelet of sorts with assorted colored beads. Teresa examines the piece of jewelry and gives Red a confused look.
Teresa Tomas: Errr… What’s this?
Red braves a smile as his face turns well… red. He clears his throat once more and looks down to his feet.
Red Rock: It’s a… friendship bracelet. I made it myself. Look! I even made the parts out of frozen peas I painted myself. Don't wear it for long though it'll melt and make a terrible mess.
When Red looks up, he finds Teresa smiling. Not the nicest of smiles, more of a mocking smile. Soon the amusement fades from her lips and is replaced by a frown. She takes Red’s hand, carefully returns the beaded bracelet into his palm and closes his fingers over it.
Teresa Tomas: Listen close Red. I have nothing against you personally, I haven’t had the best few days, with that damn photoshoot and all. I’ll tell you this just once.If you don’t keep that horny bastard D’avid away from me, next time I’m gonna cram my double barreled 12 gage up his ass and pull the trigger. Understood?
The color drains from Red’s face, both hurt and shocked at Teresa’s actions. Left holding the rejected peace offering, he nods his head silently as Teresa turns and walks away. Red Rock then slopes off.
As she moves into the shadows of an unlit corridor, Teresa stops.
Because she swears that right behind her, she can hear breathing.
Fijian breathing.
A Gift From Garbage Claus
FEATURING: CHAINZ, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY
AUTHORS: JOSH K. AND MIKE S.
AWC Transatlantic champion Garbage Bag Johnny is strolling down the hallway with several heavy bags gripped in both hands against great struggle. He walks with kind of an off balanced hobble at the weight of the bags before stopping at a door, confirming that it’s the right one, and setting the bags down with a loud thud. GBJ raps at the door. The name on the doorplate reads, ominously, “Chainz.”
There is no reply, resulting in another knock from GBJ. As he's knocking the door flings open and GBJ finds himself starring into the eyes of Chainz, everyone's favorite sicko.
Chainz: And what the fuck do you want?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Uh, hey Mike! I can call you Mike, right? Well, I just wanted to stop by and drop off some gifts so that maybe you wouldn’t, uh, kill me tonight.
Chainz: Don't ever call me Mike, or Michael. Call me sir, or Chainz if you must.
He looks at the bag.
Chainz: You smell like ass. Why the hell would I want something from you?
Garbage Bag Johnny reaches into one of the bags and pulls out a box discreetly labeled “Drakewerx Pharmaceuticals.” He rips the top of the box open to reveal a month’s supply of the brand new Garbage Bag Serum! The bottles feature lots of stunning graphics including an image of an ultra-buff GBJ chugging one of the serums down.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Now hear me out on this one, sir. This right here is a month’s supply of Garbage Bag Serum. It gave me the power to plow three time Transatlantic champion Pierce Lavelle through a semi-truck at Coast To Coast, and with the power you already have now, one month on GBS, and you’ll be bench pressing submarines. Not to mention, the women will be all over you. It has such a masculine scent.
Garbage Bag Johnny takes out one of the bottles and holds it out towards Chainz.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Try one.
Chainz looks at GBJ as if he's crazy... which he is.
Chainz: I don't need this shit to help me with women. If I see one I like, I take her. As for Pierce Lavelle, I was sending his ass to the hospital while you were still finding your way around here.
GBJ shrugs, but extends the bottle even further until it is nearly touching Chainz.
Garbage Bag Johnny: It’ll put hair on your chest… among other places, but those are just some of the minor side effects I’ve experienced.
Chainz slaps the bottle aside and grabs GBJ by the collar.
Chainz: I told you, I don't need you shit. You're starting to piss me off something fierce... I'm glad we have a match tonight, I've got something in store for you.
The collar tears, leaving GBJ completely without a shirt. For some reason, he was wearing a shirtless collar. Strange? Yes. But in a year or so, everyone will be doing it. GBJ slips away and backs up a bit. He reaches into the bag.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Easy there, sir. Okay, so the Garbage Bag Serum might not be up your alley, but I noticed you were a little bare up top, and I thought that this could help you out.
GBJ pulls a wig out of the bag and tosses it to Chainz who instinctively catches it.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Try it on! It’s the Jon Bon Jovi model!
Chainz tosses the wig aside without even giving it any thought. He rubbed his face, clearly annoyed, as he decided whether to kick the shit out of GBJ now or wait until the match.
Chainz: Are you retarded or something? Do you have any idea who I am?
Garbage Bag Johnny: You’re my opponent tonight, and I just thought that maybe if I tried to make a nice gesture before the match that you wouldn’t try to skin me alive in the rings and then eat my bones. You’re the guy that eats people’s bones, right?
Chainz: I'm the guy that fucks people up for getting in my face.
Garbage Bag Johnny takes another step backwards towards the door before reaching into the other bag. He takes out a shoebox.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I also killed a deer for you with my bare hands. I thought you’d like the still beating heart. You could put it on your mantelpiece or something.
Chainz grabs the heart and scans it as GBJ looks on eagerly until his smile fades as Chainz chomps down into the heart, chews it a bit and spits it at GBJ.
Chainz: Could use some salt.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I don’t have any salt. I’ve got a box of sodium, and I’m sure I can barter for some chlorine. The rest is easy. All I need is a lighter and a spoon, and I’ve got plenty of those. You want I should run out and make some?
Chainz: Nah, actually I got something else for you to do. You like running that big mouth of yours huh? Why don't you wrap those lips round my big dick.
Garbage Bag Johnny takes another step backwards. He’s now halfway through the door. He reaches into another bag and pulls out some topsoil which he throws on the tile in the hallway out of respect for Chainz’ personal space.
Garbage Bag Johnny: If you’re looking for something that really sucks, I also brought you this state of the art Garbage Bag Vacuum Cleaner!
Garbage Bag Johnny pulls out the vacuum cleaner from yet another bag while looking around for a wall outlet.
Garbage Bag Johnny: And between you and me, it came with a suction tube attachment. If you got a free electrical socket and precisely nine more minutes, I can show you how this machine is the queen of clean! It’s also great for disposing of those miscellaneous chunks of flesh that get stuck in the carpet.
Tracy: Trust me Johnny, he doesn't need that vacuum cleaner.
Tracy walks to the door and smiles as she sees all the gifts GBJ has brought.
Chainz: Come on baby, stay inside, I don't want you going out. Now as for you, trashman, I don't have time for this shit. If we didn't have a match tonight I would have already kicked your ass all over this arena, but thankfully you'll be all mine later tonight and I'm gonna fucking rip your heart out.
He smiles a sick smile as he walks off.
Chainz: Now then, I've got a little guerilla warfare to conduct.
As Chainz walks off, Garbage Bag Johnny scratches his chin looking ponderously.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Guerilla warfare, eh? Maybe if I help Chainz out with that, he won’t try to break my spinal column. I better go get my uniform.
Tracy smiles and closes the locker room door as Garbage Bag Johnny goes off to god knows where… maybe Terribleidealand where he has established a permanent residence.
Fallen I
FEATURING: TRACY STANTON, PIERCE LAVELLE, CHAINZ
AUTHORS: LARA C. AND MIKE S.
Tracy moved with a sombre step, her stance weak and frail, and a pair of sunglasses covering her bruise from her prior assault at the hands of The Empire goons. Moving now through the halls, head held down, she stopped and turned in her step.
Her eyes focused on a figure, stood alone in the corridor, his stature slumped, head in his hands as he rested his posture against the comfort of the cold marble wall. A smile lined her lips as she limped forward, a glint of delight twinkling in her green eyes.
Placing a gentle hand on his crisp black shirt, she smiled.
Tracy Stanton: Hey you!
The figure moved gently, his hands falling from his face and revealing a small smile creased along his lips. However the smile soon faded as Pierce Lavelle turned toward her, dressed in a black suit shirt and trousers, his eyes bloodshot.
Pierce Lavelle: You shouldn’t be seen with me.
Folding her arms in a determined gesture she spoke.
Tracy Stanton: I have the feeling you’re trying to avoid me.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m not…
Lavelle turned and looked around the corridor, it was empty.
Pierce Lavelle: It’s just not safe, I’m not a nice guy.
Stanton moved forward, her breasts rubbing against Lavelle’s chest. The smell of sweet perfume fluttered Lavelle’s senses as she inched her head toward him.
Tracy Stanton: It could’ve been a lot worse if you weren’t around. You pulled that freak off of me, those are the actions of a nice guy.
Lavelle looked at her, smiling.
Pierce Lavelle: Why do you persist?
Tracy Stanton: Because you stuck with me, gotta return the favour.
Lavelle stood back as some backstage workers moved by, aimlessly, carrying out the various tasks of their busied schedules. As silence reigned through the small corridor, Lavelle turned his gaze back onto the beautiful and vivacious, Tracy Stanton.
Pierce Lavelle: You’ve got to go.
Tracy Stanton: Or what? What’ll you do?
Stanton moved forward again, her eyes set firmly on Lavelle’s, a struggling gaze before shifting his eyes, he sighed heavily.
Pierce Lavelle: It’s not me I’m worried about… Is Sarah okay?
Stanton stopped in her pace, gazing up at the 6 foot + man.
Tracy Stanton: Why don’t you ask her?
Pierce Lavelle: I can’t…
Tracy Stanton: Why not, what’s stopping you?
Pierce Lavelle: It’s complicated.
Stanton stepped forward, nudging her finger into Lavelle’s chest.
Tracy Stanton: Well, un-complicate matters.
Pierce Lavelle: It’s not that damn simple!
Lavelle placed his hand over Tracy’s wrist and moved her away from him, his heart racing, his blood pressure rising. A scream bellowed as Lavelle’s eyes widened with horror, Tracy recoiling when she saw his horror and pain.
Chainz moved swiftly with a clubbing blow to the back of Lavelle’s head sending him roaring forward to the concrete floor as Tracy was side-stepped to the wall, bellowing orders at Michael Sloan to stop. Chainz, already bloody from the beating he gave LeVar Kintu earlier, seemed to not be satisfied and seemed out for more blood.
Tracy Stanton: MICHAEL! STOP!
Her words fell on deaf ears as Chainz drove his foot into Lavelle’s gut, winding him. Lavelle coughed violently, rolling onto the floor and trying to stand up. His attempt in vain as Chainz swooped his knee into Lavelle’s jaw, blood trickling down his chin as he flew against the wall.
Tracy watched on in horror, stood frozen against the cold wall.
Chainz moved forward ringing his hands around Lavelle’s neck as he yanked Lavelle to his feet and shoved him with a clout against the wall, Lavelle coughing hard. His lungs and back were aching. Chainz drove his nails into the skin of Lavelle’s neck, choking him, hurting him, blood trickling through his fingers…
Chainz: Son of a bitch!!!
Chainz bellowed, squeezing tighter as he watched Lavelle’s eyes flutter, struggling to get oxygen. Tracy moved forward, wrapping her hands around Chainz’s muscular arms as she pulled with all her strength.
Chainz: Tracy, back off! This is between me and him…
Chainz released one arm and moved Tracy back, Lavelle shoved back in a burst of anger and unleashed a swift upper cut knocking Chainz backward and relinquishing his grip. Collapsing to his knees, Lavelle coughed violently and held onto his neck, feeling the blood and indentation left by Chainz’s nails.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m right here, Michael.
Chainz lunged forward with another knee driving it into Lavelle solar plexus.
Pierce Lavelle: That all you got?
Chainz unleashed a flurry of punches.
Right
Left
Right
Left
Thrusting them into Lavelle’s face, blood oozing from his lips as Tracy screamed for help, bellowing at the top of her lungs. Chainz stopped, panting out of breath as he stared at the bloodied mess on the floor beneath him.
Tracy Stanton: Michael… Stop…
Tracy squealed through pained tears as she watched Lavelle roll onto his side coughing up blood with a wheezing breath.
Chainz: He has to pay!
Tracy Stanton: He didn’t do anything! He saved me.
Chainz: He could’ve prevented it and didn’t. I don’t care if he wasn’t directly responsible, he was indirectly responsible.
Chainz knelt down and grabbed Pierce’s hand, holding two of his fingers.
Chainz: You’ll learn Pierce, that no one fucks with Tracy.
He pulls and a loud snapping sound erupts in the hallway as Pierce’s finger cracks. Pierce emits a loud scream as the guards finally come onto the scene and pull Chainz away.
Chainz: It’s not over Lavelle, it’s not over!
Titanic III
FEATURING: JOHNNY LEXICON, GUARD
AUTHOR: KRIS
Johnny Lexicon: Titan?
Johnny lifts the skirt on a table and peers about beneath.
Johnny Lexicon: How the hell does a damn puppy vanish?
Johnny straightens and looks around.
Mr. Lexicon.
Johnny pauses at the voice, nearly retches at the voice, a voice that will forever haunt his nightmares.
Guard: I believe this belongs to you.
He holds out a little golden retriever puppy in one hand, it gives a whimper in response. Johnny narrows his and moves to grab Titan when the guard retracts him.
Guard: Two hundred bucks.
Johnny Lexicon: What?
Guard: That's a bargain for a pure bred like this.
Johnny Lexicon: You son of a---
Johnny fishes into his pocket for the requested currency.
Johnny Lexicon: You don't have many friends do you.
Guard: I get by.
The exchange is made and Johnny checks over his puppy.
Guard: Oh and don't forget these four fines.
Johnny Lexicon: Four? I only count three!
Johnny snatches the documents with his free hand.
Guard: Trespassing, this area is off-limits.
Johnny Lexicon: You realize it's going to be like a month before I get a paycheck.
The guard shrugs and walks away counting his money.
Fallen II
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE, ???, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHORS: LARA C. AND MIKE S.
His throat was dry as he awoke in an anesthetized blur, his line of sight blurred with pain killers and a mild sedative slowly creeping through his system. The fluttering of a light bulb sent a pulsation of harsh light against his eyes, shutting them he took a breath and a hot stinging sensation moved through his throat, a sudden flashback of his attack. Raising his hands he felt the soft material of a bandage wrapped around his neck.
Voice: You took quite a beating…
Lavelle didn’t move or acknowledge the presence; his own grip on consciousness was fading.
Voice: Things are becoming a little too messy; I thought you could handle this situation.
Lavelle swallowed, painfully. A tight knot rose in his throat.
Pierce Lavelle: What… Did… You… Expect?
Voice: I expected that you’d keep a handle on things, but it seems you’re faltering.
He opened his eyes, but the figure remained a faded blur. Struggling to keep his mouth dry he licked his chapped and cut lips and rolled into a seated position, but felt a hand of restraint on his chest.
Voice: Where you going?
Pierce Lavelle: I… Have… To… Go.
Voice: You’re not fit to be going anywhere.
The hands eased Lavelle back into a comfortable position, the figure moving from left to right, pacing as he pondered.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m… trying…
Voice: I know, we’ve hit a hurdle with Sloan, but we can’t stray from our main objective.
Pierce Lavelle: What… does… it… matter? She’s… gone…
Lavelle said in a slur of words, eyes shut. The figure moved once more, the bed moving as the figure sat down next to Lavelle, keeping one eye on the door.
Voice: Think before you speak. We’ve put too much effort in to back down now.
Lavelle nodded in acquiescence and closed his eyes, turning his head into the pillow and taking steady breaths.
Voice: I understand you’re conflicted, but it’ll work out.
Pierce Lavelle: I…
Silence emanated through the room, the figure distant in his line of sight. He felt his eyelids fluttering, a buzzing noise in his ear, darkness surrounding him and then… nothing. He was alone, groggy and cold, a yawning sensation shutting down his motions, his eyes drooping and nothing but darkness…
The figure stood for a second, watching Lavelle sleep under a mild sedative. Placing his hands firmly into his trouser pockets he moved swiftly and quietly. Opening the door, he stopped and stared toward the woman in front of him.
Voice: Look after him.
Her pale blue eyes looked toward him with adherence.
Voice: He kept you out of this for a reason, but now you know, Sarah. Keep him safe.
His gentle words lingered as he moved down the hall of out of sight.
Pleasure And Pain vs The Coalition
STIPULATION: Duo Tag
REFEREE: Selena Summer
AUTHOR: Lia
Dave Kern: Ladies and gentlemen, have we got a treat for you next!
Jeff Marx: Ladies and gentlemen, Dave is lying.
Dave Kern: I am not lying! The Coalition will be taking on Pleasure and Pain!
Jeff Marx: Thank you.
Dave Kern: For what?
Jeff Marx: For illustrating my point.
Dave Kern: What are you talking about? The Coalition have dominated since their debut!
Jeff Marx: Oh? Who are the champions again? I’ve seemed to forgotten.
Pierre Perroquet: Ladeeeez and gentile-men, zee following is a duo tag match and eet is scheduled for one fall!
“Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor hits the speakers, sending AWC’s faithful into choruses of acclaim. While they may not yet be at the top of the Alliance division, The Coalition is...
Dave Kern: ... very well on their way to being there! Untouchable is a little over a week away, ladies and gentlemen, and it’ll be The Coalition versus The Furious Fists of God for the Alliance belts!
Jeff Marx: And as always, The Fists will reign supreme.
Dave Kern: (annoyed) Yes, perhaps, but Reno and Allen have collectively shown that they are well worthy for that spot at the top.
Jeff Marx: (smartly) Ah, yes, with victories over DUI and PWC! Silly me.
Dave Kern: (pissedoffedly) DUI and PWC are... well, PWC was...
Jeff Marx: Yes?
Dave Kern: ... good tag teams!
Jeff Marx: What’s that I hear? A collective agreement from NO ONE?
Dave Kern: Well...
Jeff Marx: Well?
Dave Kern: ... they’ve also beaten Murphy & Suleimon!
Jeff Marx: Murphy who has done nothing since his return and Suleimon who has a loss column twice the amount of his win column. Plus one.
Dave Kern: (hotterthanhotly) Murphy is a former Transatlantic champion, Jeff. Captain Suleimon is arguably one of AWC’s top rising stars...
Jeff Marx: Yeah? Then talk to me when their records balance out.
Meanwhile, Wesley Reno, a fully-opened short-sleeved black shirt adorning his chest while red tights hug his legs, descends the rampway with Phil Allen, personal trainer and mentor, following close behind. The two play off the crowd’s enthusiasm, tagging whatever hands are extended over the barriers.
Pierre Perroquet: Eeeentroducing first... at a combined weight of 465 pounds... ladeez and gentile-men, ZEE COALITION!!!!
Jeff Marx: Tools.
Dave Kern: (sighing) Jeff, I hardly –
Jeff Marx: What the hell is that kid wearing? Tool.
Dave Kern: Well, I happen to think that –
Jeff Marx: – exactly.
Dave Kern: (>:o-ly) Excuse me?
Jeff Marx: You happen to think.
Dave Kern: (>:O!-ly) What is that supposed to mean?!
Jeff Marx: If I recall correctly, you also happened to think Pleasure and Pain’s grand return to the ring last week mattered to anybody.
Dave Kern: It –
Jeff Marx: Actually, it did matter to 112. I hear they’re contemplating suing Pleasure and Pain over copyright infringement.
Dave Kern: What are you –
Jeff Marx: Is he wearing rings? Sweet Jesus, could AWC get any gayer?
Unbeknownst to Jeff’s attack on their choice of wardrobe and accessories, Reno and Allen collect at the bottom of the ramp. They exchange words; Allen smacks Reno’s back before the they both roll under the bottom rope to a generous applause from France.
Jeff Marx: I can’t believe I haven’t made an ignorant and rude comment about France yet.
Dave Kern: I think it’d be best if you didn’t, Jeff. The French are known to be.. well, dirty.
Jeff Marx: In more ways than one. Ladies, really? gillette.com is having a two-for-one sale. Think about it.
Dave sighs.
“We Goin’ Be Alright” by 112 plays.
Wayne and Tiara Belle Russell emerge from the curtains to an assimilated reception from the crowd, cheers and jeers present alike.
Pierre Perroquet: Introducing zeir opponents... weighing in at a combined weight of 451 pounds... ladeez and gentile-men, please welcome PLEEEEEZURE AND PAIN!
Jeff Marx: Please don’t.
Dave Kern: Pleasure and Pain have a real opportunity to finally prove themselves here, Jeff. They could win.
Jeff Marx: They could lose.
Dave Kern: But they could win.
Jeff Marx: They’re going to lose.
Dave Kern: ... I don’t even know why I try anymore.
The Russells clamber through the ropes, Wayne preceding over his wife. The two head to their corner sans any hype from either themselves or the audience. Concurrently, Perroquet scrambles out of the ring, ducking tenderly between the top and middle rope so as not to ruffle the delicate feathers on top of his precious parrot’s head.
And the bell rings.
Jeff Marx: After three pages of bullshit, that is.
Nevertheless, Reno and Tiara Belle claim the apron as Wayne and Allen declare the ring. Allen begins to shuffle around the ring, hands up in defense while Wayne moves slower, tightening the tape around his wrists – the two never take their eyes off of each other.
Until Wayne tries to clothesline Allen’s head off.
Unfortunately for Wayne, no one is there. Allen, spotting Wayne’s onslaught before it can occur, ducks the oncoming arm. Consequently, he comes up behind Wayne and instinctively wraps his arms around the larger man’s waist. Wayne struggles against Allen’s potent grip and as a last resort, starts throwing lazy elbows backwards. One out of four connects with Allen’s chin, causing Allen to retreat from his grasp on Wayne’s waist and clutch at his chin. Wayne, seizing the opportunity presented, goes bouncing into the nearest set of ropes and comes flying towards Wayne’s chest with a crossbody. He connects and, landing on Allen, hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Dave Kern: First pin attempt of the match! And so close!
Jeff Marx: Yet so not.
Wayne stands and with a handful of blonde, pulls Allen to his feet. Grabbing onto Allen’s hand, he propels the San Diego native into a batch of turnbuckles. Following up, Wayne sprints towards Allen, intent on that move where big guys run and jump on little guys in the turnbuckle. Like most times, however, the little guy dodges; Wayne goes face-first into the turnbuckle and tumbles back into Allen’s arms, immediately vulnerable to any sort of suplex that involves a belly and a back.
Dave Kern: BELLY-TO-BACK! ALLEN JUST BELLIED THE BACK OUT OF WAYNE RUSSELL! Jeff Marx: That is quite possibly the gayest thing I have ever heard.
Regardless, Allen with the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
So, Allen picks up Wayne, stuffs his head under his arm, and backs him towards The Coalition corner. The tag is made: Allen holds onto Wayne as Reno bestrides through the ropes. Instantaneously he is on Wayne with fists to the back; Allen lets go only when Reno’s fists are enough to drop Wayne to the mat. With Allen now chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool on the apron, Reno himself lifts Wayne to his feet and smacks unyielding knife-edged chops against Wayne’s chest. The strength behind Reno’s consecutive chops causes Wayne to stumble back into the ropes. Reno, with a hand, then throws Wayne into the opposite ropes. Wayne comes rebounding as Reno hurdles forward: springboard dropkick. France’s crowd erupts into a billow of cheers.
Dave Kern: SPECTACULAR MOVE BY RENO!
Jeff Marx: Where are all the heelish undermining tactics? I’m bored.
Hook of the leg. Pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Tiara Belle with the break-up!
Jeff Marx: Could it be? Heels?
Reno looks up in anger at a backing-down Tiara Belle while Allen screams from the apron. Referee Selena Sumner takes it upon herself to remove Tiara Belle, leaving Reno open to...
Jeff Marx: (giddy) Heelish undermining tactics!
And a heelish undermining tactic is just what Wayne resorts to.
Low blow.
Jeff Marx: I think I’m going to orgasm.
Dave Kern: Er...
By this point, Allen’s had enough; he effortlessly climbs through the ropes and goes to even the score. Unfortunately for The Coalition, Sumner had subdued Tiara Belle only a second before; as soon as she turns around, Sumner is greeted with an illegal Allen stalking towards Wayne. Immediately, she orders him out.
Jeff Marx: This is almost as delectable as Josh Kalvelage with a beard.
Dave Kern: Er...!? Allen at first attempts to argue with Sumner, but eventually figures doing so would provide no award; he retreats back to his and Reno’s corner. In the center of the ring, Wayne has mounted Reno and is firing away with stiff rights and lefts. Reno, seeking defense and the continuity of his pretty jaw structure, holds folded arms up to his face, blocking out any fist-ual offense from Wayne. Wayne relents after realizing his assault is going nowhere; instead, he pushes himself up with a knee, drops the other into Reno’s stomach, and rolls onto the New Jersey native’s chest for the pinfall.
ONE!
KICKOUT!
Dave Kern: KICKOUT AFTER ONE! KICKOUT AFTER ONE!
Wayne smacks the mat in frustration. Determined for the win and a chance to finally showcase his and his wife’s abilities in the ring, Wayne stands solidly and easily peels Reno from the ground. Stuffing the head and hooking the arm, Wayne attempts a simple vertical suplex.
It’s reversed.
Dave Kern: RENO WITH A VERTICAL SUPLEX!
Jeff Marx: We aren’t blind, Dave.
Dave Kern: I was just trying to inform anyone who –
Jeff Marx: Don’t.
Dave Kern: But –
Jeff Marx: Shut. Up.
Huff.
Reno, on his feet, picks up Wayne. He tosses him into the ropes; Wayne slugishly reverses...
... sending Reno right into his wife.
Dave Kern: TIARA BELLE KNOCKED TO THE –
Jeff Marx: What did I just say?
Dave Kern: – mat?
Wayne’s shocked! He looks over the top rope, concerned for his wife’s welfare.
Translation?
Big. Mistake.
Wayne turns.
Belly-to-belly.
Dave Kern: OH MY GOD!! WAYNE JUST GOT THE BELLY BELLIED OUT OF HIM!
Jeff Marx: I have nothing remotely clever or witty to say. You are gay.
Reno rolls on top and hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
.........
THR–
KICKOUT!
Jeff Marx: Has God no mercy?
Reno, on his knees, slithers fingers into Wayne’s hair, pulls him up to level, and clamps on a full nelson chokehold.
Jeff Marx: Apparently, no. Is this necessary? Kill the bitch and pin him, twat.
Wayne attempts to muscle his way out of the lock, but to no avail. After a few moments of struggling while Reno relentlessly wretches away, Wayne starts to fall limp.
Neither of the two men see Tiara Belle roll back into the ring, coming into her role of Heroine as she breaks up Reno’s strong clutch with a low dropkick.
Dave Kern: Tiara Belle with the save! Pleasure and Pain may very well be back in the match!
Jeff Marx: To the chagrin of everyone in attendance.
Because the dropkick sent him flying backwards, Reno, on his back, is able to see Allen’s outstretched hand. Thankful, he reaches out to tag it. The stretch is too lengthy at first; Reno has to scoot just a tad before he finally makes contact with Allen. Allen, exhilarated, bounds through the two uppermost ropes and heads hastily and headstrong towards a now recuperated Tiara Belle. Mistake numero dos of the match; Tiara Belle takes the hot-headed Allen down with a drop-toe hold before Sumner finally gets on top of authority and pushes Tiara Belle back to her appropriate corner. Tiara Belle obliges; Wayne, mended, hooks an arm around Allen’s left leg and rolls backward for a roll-up. Sumner turns from Tiara Belle and drops for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Allen flails his legs out. Wayne scales either side of Allen’s waist and pours a fuss of hits aimed towards Allen’s face. After five or six consecutive clips, Sumner pushes on Wayne’s shoulder and orders him off his opponent. Wayne accommodates, but not after a last punch.
Jeff Marx: What a badass. Is gay marriage legal in Europe?
Dave Kern: ... What? I don’t...
Facelock, arm over shoulder, snap suplex. Pin.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Wayne picks up Allen; Allen attempts to fight against Wayne’s grasp, but Wayne’s weight works miles against him. Russell looks towards his wife, who has a hand outstretched. Dave Kern: Tiara Belle wants in!
Jeff Marx: Just say no to affirmative action.
Wayne says yes.
Tiara Belle enters the ring and sends a stiff kick into Allen’s midsection. Tucking his head under her arm, Tiara Belle then tries for a running bulldog; the attempt is rebuffed by Allen, who presses two palms into Tiara Belle’s back, sending Tiara Belle staggering forward. Tiara Belle spins around, irritated – and is introduced to the length of Allen’s arm. Dave Kern: CLOTHESLINE! MY GOD HE COULD HAVE TAKEN TIARA BELLE’S HEAD OFF!
Jeff Marx: What the bitch gets for getting involved in the first place, may I so cordially add.
Dave Kern: Women have a right to wrestle just as much as men do, Jeff, and I think –
Jeff Marx: YOUR MOM.
Dave Kern: – I think I hate my life.
Allen, ignorant towards the fact that he could’ve very well taken Tiara Belle’s head off, leads said Tiara Belle up to her feet. The poster child of arrogance, Allen makes a point to look right at Wayne as he assembles his wife for a reverse DDT.
Hits it.
Pins.
ONE!
TWO!
Dave Kern: WAYNE WITH THE BREAKUP!
Jeff Marx: This is never going to work unless someone kills someone.
Wayne’s interference causes a response from the formerly-stationed Reno – Reno rushes into the ring, bends, and tosses his arms around Wayne’s waist. Wayne, surprised, braces Reno’s shoulders; the two go barreling across the ring until they both go stumbling through the ring cables.
Jeff Marx: Well. I think that may have taken care of the problem.
With Wayne and Reno brawling outside of the ring, Allen is left with Tiara Belle inside of it. There is only one thing left to do.
Allen pivots his chin to the audience; France erupts in reply.
Deanimation time, bitches.
Allen takes Tiara Belle’s hand in his own, clasps it, and dexterously sends Wayne’s wife into the turnbuckles. He strides on over to the same corner, places either hand on either side of Tiara, and thrusts his shoulder blade into the gut of Tiara Belle Russell.
Well, he would have – if Tiara Belle hadn’t leapfrogged the attack at the very last second; if Tiara Belle hadn’t wrapped her legs around Allen’s waist and rolled him into a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Dave Kern: OH MY GOD!! TIARA BELLE REVERSED WORK OUT!!
Jeff Marx: I’m going to cry.
Tiara Belle, high on impromptu power, jumps up to her feet and begins stomping away at the downed Allen. Satisfied, Tiara Belle then attempts to pick up Allen. Unfortunately, she misjudges this situation: Allen’s weight is greater than Tiara Belle’s weight. Allen utilizes his size advantage by instead grabbing an arm of Tiara Belle and twisting it behind her back as he gets to his knees. As he gets up, Allen unwinds Tiara Belle’s arm, whips her around at a near electric speed, and hits a spinebuster!
Dave Kern: SPINEBUSTER BY — WAIT, WHAT’S HE DOING?!
That’s right, Dave Kern; instead of going for the pin like any other wee lad, Phil Allen decides that he is not satisfied – and with Wayne Russell immobilized outside of the ring, occupied with exchanging pleasantries with Wesley Reno – there is nothing holding him back.
It’s his time.
He picks up a dazed Tiara Belle.
Dave Kern: PHIL ALLEN IS.. HE’S CARRYING TIARA BELLE TO THE TURNBUCKLES!
That’s right, Dave Kern; Phil Allen fireman carries Tiara Belle towards the turnbuckles. As soon as he reaches them, he hoists Tiara Belle up and into a seated position. It’s easy from there. Hooks the legs, wraps the arms; heaves, elevates.
Drops.
Deanimation.
Pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings.
Pierre Perroquet: Ladeeez and gentile-men... zee winners... ZEEE COALITION!
“Eye of the Tiger” hits the speakers for the second time of the night. On the outside of the ring, a befuddled Wesley Reno, after successfully Reno Readjusting Wayne Russell to the concrete, looks up. He slides into the ring soon after, going to join his partner in the center.
Dave Kern: The Coalition has done it, folks! They will go into Untouchable fresh off a win over Pleasure and Pain!
Jeff Marx: And they’ll come out deflated with a loss from The Fists. Yeah, I could’ve told you at the beginning of this match.
Dave sighs, while Reno and Allen deservedly celebrate their win in the ring by climbing each turnbuckle and pointing fingers towards their fans.
Caught In The Act
FEATURING: GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY, JOSH MARQUEZ, PADDY O'SHEA
AUTHORS: JOSH K. AND GARETH
The mischievous gait of a one Garbage Bag Johnny is easily identifiable as the AWC champion scurries through the hallways backstage holding a paper bag in one hand. The bag, in black marker, has the name “Josh Marquez” scribbled across it in chicken scratched handwriting. Garbage Bag Johnny stops and laughs to himself.
Garbage Bag Johnny: So, you like bags, eh? Let’s see how much you like this flaming bag of dog poop!
Garbage Bag Johnny sets the bag down in front of the door and cackles a bit more.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Man, Marquez is going to step on this bag of poop so good!
Garbage Bag Johnny knocks on the door and sprints behind a vending machine. He watches from the crack between the machine and the wall before a thought hits him.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Shit! I forgot to light the bag on fire!
With lighter in hand, GBJ runs back to the door, trying to get the brown paper bag to catch on fire with the small lighter flame. It’s a slow process that isn’t working very well, and unfortunately, Johnny’s already knocked on the door. He’s startled from his endeavours by the voice of Josh Marquez.
Josh Marquez: What the hell are you doing?
Garbage Bag Johnny tries to get up and cover his tracks, but he’s never been quick with excuses.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Oh, I was just picking up my bag that I seem to have misplaced in front of your door. What a strange coincidence.
Josh Marquez: If that’s your bag, why’s it got my name on it?
Garbage Bag Johnny: That’s not your name. That’s the bag’s name.
Josh Marquez: The bag is also named Josh Marquez?
Garbage Bag Johnny: Is that so hard to believe?
Josh Marquez: To tell you the truth, it is. I think you’re trying to pull a fast one on me. Johnny, please, you should know better than to try and do that to me.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I’m not trying to pull anything. Come on, Josh Marquez. Let’s go.
Josh Marquez: Huh?
Garbage Bag Johnny: I was talking to Josh Marquez the bag.
As Josh Marquez the wrestler only appears to be getting angrier and Garbage Bag Johnny appears to be getting more and more nervous, Paddy O’Shea stumbles to the door from within the locker room. He’s drunk. For a change.
Paddy O’Shea: There ye be, ye meaty bagger!
Garbage Bag Johnny: Ah, good day, Paddy. I was just explaining to Josh how…
Josh Marquez interrupts, incorrectly finishing Johnny’s sentence for him.
Josh Marquez: …how he was trying to weaken you with a sneak attack before Untouchable. Trying to get those lovely…whatever they are covered in dog poop.
Garbage Bag Johnny: That’s a bald faced lie! I was just trying to light this bag of poop on fire so that Josh Marquez would step on it!
Josh Marquez: Aha! So that’s what you were doing! I knew it!
Paddy O’Shea: Aye, the old poop in a fiery bag trick. That’s always a good one!
Josh Marquez: And he was going to use that to distract you so that he could attack you.
Paddy O’Shea: But you just said… Josh Marquez: Never mind what I just said, he was trying to take you out! Paddy O’Shea: Ye feckin’ cunt! If it’s a fight ye want, aye would be more than happy t’ oblige.
Paddy tries to burst through the door, but Marquez puts an arm up to stop him.
Josh Marquez: Save it for Untouchable, Paddy. I don’t want this guy dropping his bag of shit anywhere near my locker room.
Paddy O’Shea: Aye, then consider this your lucky day.
Josh Marquez: Now run along before I reconsider. And take the bag with you.
Dejected, Garbage Bag Johnny walks off, muttering curses under his breath. Josh, on the other hand, is smiling at this unexpected yet very useful, turn of events.
There’s A Reason Man Made Tampons
FEATURING: DARCY CRISIS, AIMZ
AUTHORS: NATE AND KATIE
Darcy Crisis had a locker-room door.
Emphasis on HAD.
He had a locker-room door until about a half second ago, when a redheaded whirlwind kicked the lock off and stormed inside.
With not-so-dry eyes, and dressed in a black wifebeater with equally dark capri pants, she snarls and looks all the part of the reaper to Darcy, who...
... Just doesn't seem to care. He continues untying his boots as she growls.
Aimz: What the HELL do you think you're doing setting a match like you did last week?!
Darcy doesn't even look up as he offers his response.
Darcy Crisis: I think I made myself reasonably clear.
Aimz: Reasonably?
Amy is beyond angry, and that's a slight description. She tosses a folding chair into the brick wall, causing a wicked noise that made even Darcy wince.
Aimz: Reasonably... except YOU FORGOT YOUR REASON. You think getting physical's gonna solve anything, Darcy? It didn't seem to help when you were shoving me around the bedroom a few weeks ago, so what's different about this month?
His boots now untied, Darcy was free to stand and converse freely, doing so only mere inches from his girlfriend's face.
Darcy Crisis: Because I never wanted us to be a "wrestling couple," Amy. Not until you made us one. This whole mess began on your terms, and now it's going to end on my terms, and we're going to settle this the only possible way I can see it being settled. Now please, take it easy... save some of that intensity for the match. Believe me, you're going to need it.
The redhead rolls her eyes.
Aimz: Save your corny wrasslin' talk for the other promo-fiends, Stone Cold. You know I don't want to talk shit with you, and I sure as hell don't want to fight you. I got over that six years ago, but I'm still the only one in this pair who does their share of work. I follow you around, I take your abuse, I even took a goddamned bullet for your sorry ass. Don't talk so much trash, because you and I both know exactly what you are at the core -- a cripple who just can't stand not seeing his face on a kid's t-shirt.
Darcy Crisis: How 'bout you do YOURSELF a favor and stop this argument right here in its tracks? We already tried that, it got us nowhere. And like I said - I'm NOT the one who wanted this. Any way you want to spin it, it's your fault that our problems are all over TV. I'm just trying to put an end to this as quickly and efficiently as possible. Besides, there's nothing that can be done about it now. The match is signed, and neither of us can back out without breaching our contracts. And I know that you knew that already. So why don't you do us both a favor and explain just what the hell it is you want?
Very suddenly, Amy turns for the door. She opens it, but makes a final statement an inch short of her exit.
Aimz: I want you to know that you can have your match, but I have a feeling that I'll tear something when I'm coming to the ring. Call it women's intuition, but something tells me I'll end up having to forfeit due to some uncommon injury.
Darcy smirked.
Darcy Crisis: Good to know that you care about your career equally as much as you do about our relationship.
... And with a 'Fuck you', she's out the door. Mmm, that's tasty drama that you could only get reading the monthly "Revenge or Just Plain Bitchy?" polls in Cosmo.
Fallen III
FEATURING: TERESA TOMAS, BACKSTAGE WORKERS, DR. STEVEN BURNS, GUARD, PIERCE LAVELLE, SARAH KENNEDY, CHAINZ
AUTHOR: LARA C., SONYA AND MIKE S.
The hall was silent as Teresa moved through it, her blonde hair flowing around her shoulders. The Redneck Princess has an air of determination as she storms with a quickened pace, feeling uneasy with the silence.
She was a woman on a mission… And not any of the ones David Harber had set her on.
Now regretting her willingness to sign a document for Harber, she felt as though she’d sold her soul to the devil himself. The thought of wearing the skimpy outfit still strewn carelessly in the bottom of her duffle bag made the insides of her stomach churn with distaste.
Among the silence, two workers emerged from the corner, immersed in their own conversation.
Male Backstage Worker: Yeah, he was beaten pretty badly. Pretty scary stuff.
Female Backstage Worker: I would have thought he’d fight back, being a Legend…
Male Backstage Worker: You were more worried about his looks…
The female worker snorted with annoyance and walked off, going about her daily rounds. Teresa stopped, slightly intrigued by the conversation and turned to the male backstage worker.
Teresa Tomas: Got a light?
Tomas asked while she pulled out another cancer-stick. His eyes lit up as he fumbled with his lighter, knocked back by the long legged blonde stood next to him.
Teresa Tomas: Thanks. Couldn’t help over hear your conversation…
Male Backstage Worker: Oh, yeah, that… It was terrible.
Teresa Tomas: So, who got their ass handed to them on a silver platter.
Tomas asked with a glint in her eye, almost wishing for the news to be Tiara or Harber. The worker mused for a second over the attention he was reason and rubbed his chin with the feigned impression he was thinking and not staring at her cleavage.
As the words moved through his mouth, Tomas’s mouth dropped, her heart racing as the cigarette lingered on her lip before she threw it aside and moved swiftly down the corridor.
Male Backstage Worker: Sloan kicked the shit out’ a Lavelle!
The worker said it again as he blared his voice down the hall after Tomas but she was long gone.
The small corridor was silent, Doctor Steven Burns and a security guard stood outside the medical office.
Dr. Steven Burns: You’ve been given the task to protect this room.
The guard nodded solemnly, scared to death by the man that could come around the corner looking for seconds. Seeing the hesitation, Burns placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder.
Dr. Steven Burns: Don’t worry… Harber will have Sloan under full supervision for the rest of the night. I think you’ll have the easiest job out of all your staff.
The guard nodded and watched Burns enter through the door, disappearing from sight. He stood silent, eyes focused on the corridor, his breathing heavy and his palms sweaty. He longed for his shift to end. A figure darted past his peripheral vision, a black blur. Jolting into a defensive stance he looked again and jumped out of his skin as a hand touched his shoulder.
Teresa Tomas: Wow, easy cowboy!
Security Guard: (sweating profusely) Where’d ya get off jumpin’ up on people like that.
Tomas smiled, coyly.
Teresa Tomas: Oh, I’m sorry, did I scare you?
Security Guard: No, course not. I’ve got the shakes, is all.
Teresa Tomas: Mhm… Listen, is Lavelle in there?
Tomas said pointing to the medical room with a nudge of her head before turning back to the guard with ‘shakes’! The guard nodded his head and folded his arms, steadying his breaths and counting to ten in his head.
Teresa Tomas: Mind if I go in?
Security Guard: Eh… He’s not supposed to have any visitors!
Teresa Tomas: I’m a friend!
Security Guard: Sorry, no can do.
Tomas irritated, moved forward, her face inches from the guards.
Teresa Tomas: Tell you what, ‘shakin’ stevens’. You let me in and nobody has to know what happened here…
Tomas said with a gleaming grin, adjusting the man’s loosened tie. Tightening his fists, he acquiesced and opened the door allowing the Redneck Princess to enter.
The room was void of any movement, machines beeping every so often. She moved through the room and found Pierce Lavelle, still dressed in his suit trousers, his shirt removed and tossed into a basin of water, now a crimson red. His figure was battered, bloody and unconscious. Setting her duffle bag down; she moves forward and takes a seat, looking toward him with a wry expression.
Teresa Tomas: Really got a work out, huh.
Not a single response or witty gesture, sighing she turned around and saw the guard stood outside the door.
Teresa Tomas: Why are you working for Harber? Why’d you give me the sluttish outfit?
Tomas straightened her posture and pulled out a cigarette, but stopped.
Teresa Tomas: These will kill me, right. That’s what you’d say. I’m not good at this.
Sarah Kennedy: I noticed…
Tomas jolted up and saw Sarah Kennedy stood behind her, carrying a cup of coffee.
Teresa Tomas: Sarah, I …
Sarah Kennedy: No, please, sit.
Tomas remained standing, her eyes focused on Sarah.
Sarah Kennedy: Seems to have a way with women, doesn’t he… First Tracy visits and now you… Makes you wonder, doesn’t it.
Teresa Tomas: There is nothing going on between he and I. He’s just a friend.
Sarah Kennedy: And you want answers, right.
Tomas nodded her head, and then seated herself back down.
Sarah Kennedy: Well get in line, cause there’s a lot of explaining to do.
Teresa Tomas: Why do you care so much? I mean, you didn’t want anything to do with him two weeks ago. Now, suddenly, a hint of compassion…
Kennedy’s eyes dropped as she sipped her coffee, letting the silence linger as she composed her thoughts.
Sarah Kennedy: There’s a lot more to it, Teresa. You wouldn’t understand.
Chainz: Like what, sweet cheeks!
Sarah jumped, her eyes turning to the guard being dragged by his neck into the room and the tall, frightening figure of Michael Sloan stood in the doorway. Teresa jumped into a stance, her fists clenched, ready for a fight.
Sarah Kennedy: What are you doing here?
Sloan grinned, menacingly.
Chainz: Visiting a sickly friend, sexy.
The guard coughed and yelped under Chainz’s unrelenting vice-grip. Tomas moved forward, placing herself between Chainz and the motionless Pierce Lavelle.
Teresa Tomas: Come for seconds? Haven’t you caused enough damage?
Chainz: What’s that freckles?
Tomas remained sturdy, moving towards
A scream of horror and immense pain cried throughout the room, Kennedy froze in shock.
Chainz: Now, where were we… Oh, yes, you were saying freckles…
Teresa Tomas: Get out of here, Sloan. You’ve had your fun.
Sarah Kennedy: He’s not leaving…
Tomas looked toward Kennedy, quizzically.
Chainz: That’s right sweet cheeks, cause Mr. Legend and I have some unfinished business to discuss…
Sloan moved forward now, flexing his muscles, his eyes set on the motionless Lavelle. A faint touch rose against his muscular chest. He stopped, gazing to the hand of restraint. Tomas glared back at him.
Teresa Tomas: He’s not in any condition, Sloan.
Chainz: I don’t give a fuck now then, freckles. Let’s play…
He moved forward, his hot breath dancing along her neck. Shaking with horror and repulsion, Teresa shoved him backward sending him crashing into a small trolley of medicinal items. Kennedy looked on, helpless.
Chainz: Damn it, bitch! Stay out’ a this!
Sloan lunged but Teresa wasn’t quick enough, taking a powerful punch along the side of her jaw knocking her to cold linoleum floor below. A trickle of blood oozed from her mouth, a twinge of pain. Sloan moved forward, but this time felt a stronger pull of restraint.
Sarah Kennedy: Back off, asshole!
Chainz: You’ve got quite a mouth there honey.
Sarah Kennedy: I mean it, Sloan.
Sloan moved toward Sarah, letting his finger trace her jaw line running his hand down her neck. A ripple of goosebumps rose along her spine, her breathing shallow and her heart palpitating with irrational nerves as she glared toward his deep blue eyes.
Sarah Kennedy: I’ll scream…
Chainz: Oh, please do, I’m begging ya.
Sarah opened her mouth to scream but Chainz pounced, grasping her neck and planting a large wet, slobbery kiss onto her. Sarah struggled, flailing her arms until she gripped a small empty basin and flung it at Chainz’s head, Chainz recoiled and cursed turned back to Sarah.
Chainz: You stupid bitch!!!!
A figure rose with a blur in Chainz’s vision before a crashing blow flung across his face, sending Chainz’s unbalanced frame into the bloodied water basin and hurling his body to the floor.
Pierce Lavelle: That’s no way to treat a woman!
Were the faint words from the slightly sedate and extremely battered, Pierce Lavelle. His worn and bloodied figure stood before a surprised and shocked Michael Sloan. Sarah looked toward him, awestruck.
Chainz: Seems I didn’t give you a good enough beatin’.
Pierce Lavelle: This is between you and me, Sloan.
Chainz: Got that right, Legend.
Sloan rose and clicked his jaw watching Sarah Kennedy move toward the unstable Lavelle. Grunting toward Pierce’s weak demeanour he moved forward, his nose inches from Pierce’s, and his breath hot and heavy. Pierce’s jaw clenched, his muscles tightened and his breathing quick.
Chainz: This ain’t over, Legend. I’ll see you ‘round! I’ve got big plans for you. You’re gonna be my bitch before it’s all said and done. We’re gonna have fun, lots of fun Pierce. I’ll be seeing you 3 ladies around.
With that, Sloan shoved Pierce and walked out of the room. Teresa remained on the floor, gazing toward Sloan as he left. Pierce looked unstable for a moment before collapsing back onto the bed, his eyelids fluttering.
Pierce Lavelle: What’d I miss?
Lavelle said, a smile cruising along his cut lips. Teresa laughed and rose onto her feet, wiping her mouth before patting Pierce on the back and leaving. Sarah stood silent a moment and moved toward him.
Pierce Lavelle: I know, I can’t save you anymore…
Lavelle’s face dropped before he rose onto his feet and gripped his soggy shirt from the floor, his posture slumped and his face cringed in pain. Sarah remained still, her eyes placed to the ground. He moved toward the door, but she stood in his way. Wrapping her hands around his neck she pulled him into a kiss, her hips grazing against his, a smile lingering on his lips as she pulled out, a glint in her eyes. His smile soon faded, his insides churning as he watched the room spin.
Sarah Kennedy: Pierce? Jesus!
He collapsed into her arms as she fell under her weight, a sigh of relief as she felt his feint breath.
Darcy Crisis (c) vs Johnny Lexicon
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE:
AUTHORS: JAMIE FLETCHER AND PIERRE HYDE
When you piss The Empire off your chances of winning aren't that great. Darcy Crisis, the current Frontier champion is facing a momentous uphill struggle tonight on Fresh!. If he wants to remain champion Crisis must pin Johnny Lexicon.
Jeff Marx: Johnny Lexicon is going to take home the AWC Frontier championship.
Johnny Lexicon skips around the ring getting in the zone for the biggest match of his AWC career, a Frontier championship contest.
Dave Kern: I think the only people who are cheering for Darcy Crisis are the fans. I don't even know if his own girlfriend wants him to win.
The Bell rings.
Lexicon and Crisis collide. The wild bulls lock horns and begin tussling back n' forth across the ring jocking for control. The champion gains a swift upper hand pushing Lexicon into the ring cables but Lexicon is agile switching the positions. Pushing Darcy into the ropes, Lexicon feels confident enough to relax his control and break the tie up. This is all in aid of Darcy Johnny Lexicon attempting to follow up with huge forearms but Crisis catches Lexicon's right elbow and drives his knee up, into the ribs of Darcy Crisis. Uppercut! Crisis sends Lexicon falling back into the ring cables but Crisis fails to follow up as Lexicon avoids Darcy's assault.
Dave Kern: Very smart, he shows great wrestling skills there.
Jeff Marx: It doesn't matter about skills in this match when you are fighting against a guy who royally pissed off The Empire. At any moment Afeaki’s going to come out and destroy Darcy.
Lexicon sprints off, rocketing off of the ring cables Johnny makes rapid speed towards Darcy Crisis but Crisis pulls down on the top rope sending Johnny Lexicon over the top rope. Darcy Crisis climbs up onto the top rope but the referee grabs his leg urging him down, pointing out that a dive to the outside is actually against the rules.
Jeff Marx: Finally referees at AWC actually following the laws of wrestling and stopping this spot monkeys devaluing the industry.
The crowd gives insane heat directed towards the incredibly bias referee. Darcy Crisis while perched on the top rope engages in a war of words with the referee clearly annoyed at the pussying out the AWC referees - less Lars Larsson - are doing. Pouncing up onto the ring apron Johnny Lexicon catches Darcy Crisis by surprise. Lexicon drives his fist into the Frontier champion's skull but he can't follow it up. He tries to climb up onto the turnbuckle, Crisis throws Lexicon off sending him crashing into the ring.
Dave Kern: Yeah, so much for not devaluing are industry the referees of AWC are nothing but pussies and puppets of The Empire.
Quick onto his feet Johnny Lexicon escapes harms way as Darcy Crisis' top rope clothesline fails to connect. Zipping off of the ropes Johnny gains speed, reaching Crisis he thrusts his fist into the jaw of the Frontier champion to begin a period of advantage. Forcing Crisis towards the ropes Lexicon softens him up with right fists building up to a great plan... IRISH WHIP!!! No fakie... Owww... Impressive!!!
DDT, Darcy Crisis won't budge. Out of nowhere Darcy lifts Johnny Lexicon up for a northern lights suplex but Lexicon is having none of his shit... stiffness!!! ELBOW. Johnny Lexicon's elbow wedges in between two really painful bones in the spine of the champ. It's always a bonus when the bones you jam in between cause great pain. This time Lexicon is confident enough to go for an even bigger punishing move. Lexicon wraps his arms around the waist of Darcy Crisis, he verticalizes Darcy Crisis but like a pendulum Crisis swings back down... Back body drop. Lexicon didn't see it coming and didn't even bother trying to do any sick athletic shit.
Dave Kern: This action is quick and back and forth.
Crisis pivots and drops his knee into the stomach of Darcy Crisis. Screaming, Lexicon is in mild pain as the crowd goes insane.
Darcy pins Lexicon.
ONE!…
Dave Kern: Oh Come on. That is two already.
The referee's hand pauses in mid air taking what seems to be an eternity to hit the canvas a second time.
KICK OUT!
Jeff Marx: Referee's prerogative.
Darcy Crisis is furious, he is sure that he should have least have registered a two count during that pin attempt. The referee's hand was suspended in mid air for almost an age. Shaking off his disappointment in the quality of the refereeing Darcy Crisis scoops Johnny Lexicon up off of the canvas. He then gets Lexicon all set up for the northern lights suplex, however Lexicon is sharp and responds with a counter attack forcing his knee into the neck of Darcy Crisis. With the role of dominator and submissive reversed Lexicon nails Darcy Crisis with a DDT in the centre of the ring and wasting no time pins the Frontier champion.
ONE!
TWO!
KICK OUT!
Dave Kern: The crowd are saying it all to be honest.
“GROW SOME BALLS” CLAP CLAP “GROW SOME BALLS” CLAP CLAP is the chant directed at the match referee.
Jeff Marx: The crowd need to shut up and show some respect for the man in the black and white shirt.
Johnny Lexicon is pissed off at how he thought the count was too slow and allowed for Darcy Crisis to make a recovery when he should have one the match. This view is not shared with everyone else inside the arena. The level of bias on Fresh! This week is huge.
Following pattern Lexicon pulls Darcy Crisis to his feet but instead of automatically following up with a second power move Lexicon begins to chop away at Darcy Crisis' chest.
ONE! CHOP!
CRISIS RETURNS THE FAVOUR
The two begin a war. Unleashing devastating chops to one another's chest. The two begin to mark one another as the referee and crowd watch in amazement.
Dave Kern: STRONG STYLE WOOT!!! Watch out Japan, AWC is on fire.
Crisis is worked back towards the ropes but Crisis uses his technical ability and ring knowledge, bouncing off of the ropes he delivers a snap knee shot to the rib cage. From there it is all about the champion...
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! The chops are raining down on Johnny Lexicon and there is nothing he can do. The strong style element of Darcy Crisis' arsenal is coming out trumps tonight and to be honest you'd be lieing to say that the referee's cheating isn't pushing Crisis over the edge a little.
Dave Kern: Jeff, this has the key elements to develop into a classic title fight. If only it wasn't for the referee and the Empire.
Crisis charges with his head lowered ramming Johnny Lexicon awkwardly into the corner of the ring. Moving back across the ring he measures Lexicon. Then extending his elbow he connects, his elbow scoring a perfect shot at the skull.
Lexicon can do nothing as Darcy Crisis slaps him into a headlock and then proceeds to plant him face first into the ring canvas. Instead of realizing the headlock Darcy Crisis keeps Johnny Lexicon under control and in submission trying to get the challenger to submit. That is one way of getting around the dodgy refereeing service AWC is currently offering.
Dave Kern: He has five seconds.
Jeff Marx: Referee's discretion.
Lexicon manages to grab the bottom rope with his foot and the referee wastes no time breaking the submission doing his best to impress the boss.
Lexicon is up on his feet giving Darcy Crisis no time to reassert his authority. The two lock up and Darcy is quick but Lexicon doesn't allow Darcy Crisis anything. Lexicon reverses the tie up momentum and with a swift destructive knee to the mid section of Darcy Crisis which gives him the ability to apply his own headlock. However it is weak and this gives Darcy Crisis the ability to throw him off to the ropes.
Dropkick.
Crisis pins Lexicon.
ONE!
...
...
...
“Where's the two count?”
TWO!
KICK OUT.
Jeff Marx: Look the referee is actually making the wrestlers work for it. Isn't this good and old school.
Dave Kern: It’s sickening, that’s what it is.
Crisis pushes the referee. The referee responds his a stern threat of disqualification for the Frontier champion.
Lexicon rolls Darcy Crisis up.
ONE!
TWO!
Darcy Crisis escapes. Darcy Crisis is instantly back on his feet but visually shaken up and taken back by Johnny Lexicon's ability to pull winning situations out of anywhere. Crisis misses a clothesline and Lexicon wraps his arms around the body of Darcy Crisis. BELLY TO BELLY SUPLEX!!!
Lexicon covers Crisis.
ONE!
TWO!
AND EVEN WITH THE REFEREE'S QUICK COUNT CRISIS GETS HIS FOOT ON THE BOTTOM ROPE.
Dave Kern: So close.
Pausing for a brief second the referee needs to decide if he acknowledges the foot on the bottom rope or not. Does he disgrace the Frontier championship or does he uphold it's values and ethics that past AWC superstars have earnt it.
Out of nowhere he gets some unidentified balls... TWO COUNT ONLY!
Jeff Marx: Good to see. Rules being upheld.
Getting up Johnny Lexicon makes to the corner with speed. He jumps up onto the top rope and spinning around dives with a flying headbutt but Darcy Crisis rolls out the way and Lexicon hits the mat head first.
Crisis gets up and does a standing headbutt. Not giving Lexicon enough time to rebel in the same fashion that Lexicon had offered him.
Dave Kern: This has turned back around in Crisis’ favour; now he gets back down on the mat with Lexicon… OH there’s the Darcinator! The Darcinator has been applied!
Jeff Marx: Hmph. Fearsome…
Dave Kern: HE’S TAPPING!
Johnny Lexicon is indeed tapping the mat… but the referee pays no heed!
Jeff Marx: HE’S NOT EVEN LOOKING! The ref is looking away!
Dave Kern: There’s Empire all over this match and it’s horrible to watch!
Lexicon slaps the mat desperately, the struggle over as far as he is concerned, the champion too strong, but Crisis cannot relent until the referee ends the match!
Dave Kern: And if this carries on Lexicon will pick up an injury! He’s expecting the hold to be broken, and he’s got no idea why Crisis is continuing!
Jeff Marx: But the referee is refusing to count the f---
Jeff breaks off as an angry commissioner Wade bursts through the curtain, to a huge cheer from the crowd. He strides purposefully towards the ring; at the sight of him the ref quails and immediately calls for the bell.
Pierre Perroquet: Ze winner, an’ steel Frontier shahmpyoh, DARCY CRISIS!
The referee beats a hasty retreat as Wade enters the ring, tapping Crisis on the back with the retaining champion now standing. Lexicon is on the mat and Wade bends down to check on him.
Dave Kern: Well folks, say what you will, but this match is evidence that corruption is alive in AWC.
The Real Monster
FEATURING: DAVID HARBER, CHAINZ
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
“Heartless” David Harber walked briskly through the hallways, sweating profusely. His Empire was gone, leaving him alone and vulnerable.
Chainz: Oh Pearl…
His voice was haunting and creepy and sent shivers down David Harber’s neck. He turned and saw a bloody Chainz approaching him. He had already caused so much carnage tonight that David was sure he was next.
Chainz approached David Harber and backed him into a wall, getting right into his face.
Chainz: So how’s it feel?
David Harber: How’s what feel?
Chainz: How’s it feel to be looking at a true monster?
Chainz laughs, fully enjoying the position of power he has.
Chainz: For weeks you and your Empire have been walking around thinking you’re bad ass. You guys thought you were wicked and evil and mean, but you’re all nothing. You know nothing about what true fear is and how to instill it in a roster. Your Empire is pathetic… One night and they’re all gone, leaving you all alone.
David Harber: We’ll get you Sloan, we’ll get you for this…
Chainz: No, no you won’t. Just think if I could do this in one night, just think of what I’m capable of giving a week’s time to plan. I run this place now, you may run it on paper, but truly when you step in an arena, I’m the man in charge.
David Harber: You’re thinking a bit too much of yourself.
Chainz: Heh, don’t think so boy. I’m going to leave you with this before I go and destroy that fucking bum. I’ve taken out your Empire in one night and I plan on taking you out but… not today.
Chainz backs away from Harber.
Chainz: It’s too easy, I’d rather let you stew in the mess you’ve created for yourself. I’ll finish with you, not today, not tomorrow, not even next week. You won’t know when it’s coming and then I’ll fucking strike and I’ll bury you. Enjoy your Empire while you can because it’ll all come crashing down, with pain and bloodshed.
Chainz fixes David Harber’s collar and gives him a pat on the cheek as he walks away, preparing for the match ahead.
Titanic IV
FEATURING: GUARD, JOHNNY LEXICON
AUTHOR: KRIS
The show is moments from going off the air when the camera switches a parkinglot, namely a little green neon with peel and stick flames up the side. The neon is not unlike most any other neon, anyone would think, except for one little thing. The front tire is not where it should be, in fact the front tire is nowhere to be seen and instead the car is on a jack.
Enter the guard, a familiar sort of guard who seems to thoroughly enjoy his job, drops his work bag and ticket book in shock.
Guard: What the hell happened to my car.
He turns and looks and spins and then stops as another familiar sort of figure approaches the scene, Johnny Lexicon in his blue jeans and denim jacket, a tire iron held over his left shoulder.
Guard: You did this?
Johnny Lexicon: Me? No I didn't do this.
Guard: What's the tire iron for?
Johnny Lexicon: I was gonna hit you over the head, but I've suddenly had a better idea.
The guard backs away a wary step.
Johnny produces a handful of tickets.
Guard: You're bribing me?
Johnny Lexicon: I think this would be blackmail. I can still hit you if you want.
Guard: No! No it's fine.
He snatches the tickets from Johnny's hand.
Guard: Now put my tire back on!
Johnny smiles as the scene ends.
Garbage Bag Johnny vs Chainz
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Dave Kern: Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached tonight’s main event here in Lyon, France! We are about to witness the second dream main event match pitting Chainz against the current Transatlantic champion, Garbage Bag Johnny! Last week, Chainz’s main squeeze and fiancé, Tracy Stanton, was attacked by The Empire’s LeVar Kintu, almost taking her poor little head off! We all know that Chainz is out for blood against The Empire, and I smell a Kintu/Chainz match at Untouchable two week away! But before the pay-per-view rolls around, Chainz has his hands full against the Transatlantic champion!
Jeff Marx: That he does, Kern, but I think Chainz can handle his own against him. Chainz is perhaps the premier wrestler here in AWC since Adam Dick’s unfortunate leave after Coast To Coast. Dick’s out, Chainz’s in and we’ll see what kind of monster Chainz really is after witnessing Tracy’s attack.
Dave Kern: I’ve been seeing him pacing back and forth in the backstage area like a caged animal waiting to strike anything and everything, and he’ll have that chance tonight against Garbage Bag Johnny! Without any further ado, let’s take it down to the Frenchman, Pierre Perroquet... along with his parrot!
Jeff Marx: DUDE! That bird just pooped on the canvas!
Dave Kern: This is going to be a long night...
Pierre Perroquet: Ladies an’ gentlemen! We have reached zee Main Event of zee eve-in-ing!
“Cure” by the Wild Colonials starts to play as Chainz walks down to the ring, arm-in-arm with Tracy Stanton. Tracy is sporting a pair of sunglasses to cover up the bruise she sustained last week against LeVar Kintu’s attack.
Pierre Perroquet: First, making his way to zee ring, being accompanied by zee lovely an’ voluptuous Tracy Stanton! From Bear-ming-ham, Alabama, weighing two hundred an’ ninety-five pounds... CHAINZ!
Chainz gives Pierre Perroquet an impatient look, telling him to watch what he says. He tells Tracy to stay where she is, Chainz walks over to the timekeeper’s table, throws timekeeper Peter Starks off his chair, folds it and walks back to Tracy. He unfolds the chair, allows Tracy to take a seat, gives her a kiss, and tells her again to stay where she is and steps into the ring.
Jeff Marx: And they chivalry is dead! Chainz is such a gentleman for his lady!
Dave Kern: And not a gentlemen towards Peter Starks by throwing him on his ass and pilfering his chair.
Pierre Perroquet: An’ his opponent!
“Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero 2 Hero” by Garbage Bag Johnny and Primus plays. There’s no exciting pyro or flashing lights for the new Transatlantic Champion’s entrance, but there’s lots of smoke billowing from the entranceway. GBJ steps out from the curtain, wearing a large trashcan around his body like a piece of armor and has a large trashcan lid strapped to his head. He slowly walks down to the ring, holding his oversized Transatlantic title belt in both hands.
Jeff Marx: The Tin Man called... he wants his suit back.
Dave Kern: Now I’ve seen everything! Garbage Bag Johnny is wearing an oversized trashcan as armor! I don’t blame the guy with the murderous mood Michael “Chainz” Sloan is in!
Pierre Perroquet: From Air-bana, Illinois, weighing two hundred an’ nineteen pounds. He is zee two souzhand an seex Zero 2 Hero winner an’ zee AWC Transatlantic Champion... GAR-BAUGE BAG JOHNNY!
Garbage Bag Johnny literally rolls into the ring, slowly gets to his feet and locks his eyes on Chainz, who is pacing patiently back and forth. Keeping his eyes locked on Michael Sloan, he cautiously walks towards referee Lars Larsson and hands over his TA title belt. It feels almost like dead weight in Larsson’s hands, taken off guard by the belt’s heavy 30 pounds. After handing it over to Pierre Perroquet, he calls for the bell. With breakneck speed, Sloan charges at GBJ and takes him down with an explosive Spear, putting a large dent with his thick, massive shoulder.
Dave Kern: Oh my God! What speed by Chainz! What a Spear by Chainz! He put a massive dent in that trashcan armor Garbage Bag Johnny is wearing!
Jeff Marx: With an explosive offense like that, the Transatlantic champion is in for a long-ass night.
Michael “Chainz” Sloan gets to his feet. With his raw strength, he literally rips the trashcan armor off Garbage Bag Johnny’s body! He grabs the Transatlantic champion by the hair and yanks him up to a vertical base. Sloan goes for a Mue Thai style clinch, throwing repeated knee strikes into Johnny’s face, into Johnny’s midsection and throws a clubbing forearm blow across GBJ’s back! He lifts GBJ to his feet again, wraps his arms around GBJ’s waist, pops his hips and throws GBJ over his head with an Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex. The Transatlantic champion goes about ten feet into the air and lands hard on the canvas back first. The French fans are in awe with Chainz’s unbridled strength.
Like a predator, Michael Sloan stalks his opponent, keeping alert for any movement from Garbage Bag Johnny. Sensing that the match is his, he goes over, grabs GBJ by the hair, but doesn’t have the time to defend him from a trashcan lid attack. The lid shot doesn’t faze the monster and goes for GBJ again. GBJ strikes him in the head, making Chainz stagger backward a little bit. Johnny gets to his feet, goes for another lid shot, but Chainz slaps the trashcan lid from Johnny’s possession and throws a boot in the TA champion’s face.
Dave Kern: Man what a boot by Chainz! Garbage Bag Johnny tried to fight off that monster with a couple of trashcan lid strikes, but it wasn’t enough to keep the beast at bay!
Jeff Marx: Now Chainz has Garbage Bag Johnny on his front and squeezing the life out the TA champ with a Bearhug!
Indeed he does, Jeff Marx! After the big boot, Michael Sloan turns Garbage Bag Johnny onto his front, wraps his thick, muscular arms around his back and applies pressure with the Bearhug. “The Dirtiest Champion of AWC” is screaming in pain, trying to break away from Chainz’s Bearhug but to no avail. Chainz is way too strong for GBJ to handle. His only option is to crawl towards the ropes and break the submission, but his position is horrible - he’s about center in the ring. He starts crawling towards the ropes, but the near 300-pound Chainz isn’t budging, and Chainz squeezes tighter around GBJ’s back. Johnny bellows out in pain, pulling at his hair to block out the pain. Before Sloan breaks the Bearhug, he slams his bulky shoulder into the small of Johnny’s back, making him scream in anguish. Chainz gets to his feet, looks out into the fans and roars at them. The fans give him a mixed reaction, some cheering for him while the rest jeer the bald monster from Birmingham, Alabama.
Dave Kern: Chainz has been on Garbage Bag Johnny’s back for a good long time using that effective Bearhug. I’m surprised that GBJ didn’t submit to Chainz’s raw power!
Jeff Marx: So am I, Kern! This is what makes him a good Transatlantic champion: He’s tough, he won’t back down and he won’t go down without a fight. He’s doing everything he can to survive the match, but I don’t think he’ll last long with the malicious mean streak Chainz is on!
Dave Kern: Looks like his mean streak is broken! He just left the ring to check on Tracy Stanton, completely ignoring Garbage Bag Johnny!
Jeff Marx: Oh c’mon, Sloan! You’re in the middle of the damn Main Event! Save the damn pillow talk for later!
Michael Sloan is talking with Tracy Stanton, his beloved fiancé, giving her a few kisses, cops a feel here and there and it looks like Tracy is in better spirits after what happened to her last week. All of a sudden, she gets up from her chair, points over Chainz’s shoulder and warns him about Garbage Bag Johnny, who is on the outside, charging at him from the ring apron. Chainz turns around, catching GBJ in midair.
Quickly, Garbage Bag Johnny squirms out of Chainz’s arm, falls onto the floor and scores with a punch right into the testicles! This annoys Chainz. The “Birmingham Monster” by the neck, but GBJ scores with another low blow, this time dropping Chainz onto one knee. “The Dirtiest Dude in AWC” gets to his feet, goes back a few steps and then slams a knee right into Chainz’s face, sending Chainz onto his back. Tracy is in the corner, screaming for her man.
Garbage Bag Johnny gets Michael Sloan to his feet, about to whip him into the steel ring post. Chainz reverses the Irish Whip and sends him face first into the unforgiving steel! He bounces off the post, spins around and lands on his face. The fans bear witness that GBJ’s forehead is busted wide open!
Dave Kern: The Transatlantic champion has been sent face first into the steel ring post and he’s busted wide open for his trouble!
Jeff Marx: We have blood for tonight’s Main Event! When Chainz smells good, he becomes an unhinged, bloodthirsty monster!
Chainz walks over to the Transatlantic champion, now seeing that Garbage Bag Johnny is bleeding from his forehead. This excites Chainz, he starts shaking with pleasure as he sees the blood flowing from its wound. He grabs GBJ by his hair and throws GBJ’s face into the ring post again, opening up that wound on his forehead. The fans are booing at Chainz now as GBJ is bleeding profusely from his forehead.
Dave Kern: My god, Garbage Bag Johnny is bleeding like a stuck pig!
Jeff Marx: And Chainz is in his comfort zone with the TA champion bleeding from the forehead.
Michael Sloan throws Garbage Bag Johnny into the ring, then follows suit. Unbeknownst to Chainz, GBJ is on his feet and throws a Dropkick into the back of Chainz’s head, almost sending Chainz onto the floor. Sloan tries to scramble to his feet, but the TA champion is one step ahead of the monster from Birmingham, Alabama. He jumps into the air and lands on the back of Chainz’s head with a double stomp, pressing all of his 219 pounds onto the back of Chainz’s head! The fans are on their feet, cheering for the Transatlantic champion! Johnny grabs a handful of head (Chainz is bald J-Bone Ed.) and gets him to a vertical base. He kicks him in the gut, double Michael Sloan over. He goes for the double under-hook, pulls backward and sits down with a Stump Puller Pile Driver, assisted by a double under-hook. GBJ goes for the first cover of the match, hooking the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
Chainz immediately kicks out. Garbage Bag Johnny wipes some blood from his face and wipes it off his chest. He picks up Michael Sloan, gets behind him and drives a knee into the small of Chainz’s back, forcing him to bend over backwards. Johnny applies an Inverted Front Face Lock, about to go for an Inverted DDT. Unfortunately for GBJ, Chainz wraps his arms around GBJ’s waist, plants his feet and straightens himself up, carrying GBJ over his left shoulder. After straightening himself out, he drops forward with the Power Slam, but GBJ counter by throwing his weight forward and spikes Chainz right on his head! The fans are on their feet, cheering for the Transatlantic champion...
“GBJ! GBJ! GBJ! GBJ! GBJ!”
Garbage Bag Johnny goes for the cover...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Michael “Chainz” Sloan gets the shoulder up!
Dave Kern: OH MY GOD! I think we all just witness something that defies the law of gravity! From an arched position, Chainz straightened himself up and carried GBJ onto his shoulder! There was no assistance for Chainz; he did it all by himself! Then he goes for a Power Slam and gets spiked right on his head with a DDT! Anything can happen here in the Atlantic Wrestling Club!
Jeff Marx: I am amazed at what we are seeing tonight! Chainz has shocked us all with his flexibility and his awesome strength! What can’t this man do?
Garbage Bag Johnny gets to his feet, picks up Chainz and whips him into the ropes. Off the rebound, Chainz goes for a boot, GBJ ducks underneath and goes for a rollup, pulling up on Chainz’s pants...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Michael “Chainz” Sloan is still in this match! Garbage Bag Johnny gets Chainz to a vertical base, kicks him in the gut and throws Chainz’s head in between his legs. He wraps his arms around Chainz’s waist and tries to lift him Chainz up for a Thunder Fire Bomb, but Chainz’s 295-pound frame isn’t budging. He goes for another lift again and pulls something in his back, pulling away from Chainz. He drops to one knee, clutching at his lower back, Chainz straightens himself up and throws a massive Lariat, taking GBJ onto the mat.
Dave Kern: Lariat by Chainz! He goes for the cover...
Jeff Marx: One! Two! Three! HE GOT IT!
Dave Kern: NO! GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY GOT THE SHOULDER UP! THE TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPION IS STILL IN THIS MATCH!
Michael Sloan is now getting frustrated, trying to put the Transatlantic champion away. Chainz gets to his feet, grabs Garbage Johnny by the hair and yanks him to his feet. Chainz blasts GBJ hard with a Short Arm Clothesline, keeping a grip on GBJ’s hair. He yanks “The Dirtiest Champion of AWC” back to his feet and connects with another Short Arm Clothesline. He repeats the process for the third time and allows Johnny to fall onto the canvas, damn near unconscious from the three Short Arm Clotheslines. Sloan grabs GBJ by the hair again, throws his head in between his legs and lifts him over his right shoulder. He lifts GBJ over his head, extending arms straight up. He then takes a few steps forward, launches GBJ forward with the Thunder Fire Bomb, and GBJ flies out of the ring and lands halfway up the steel ramp! The fans are in the frenzy, chanting “HOLY SHIT!” in their native language.
DAVE KERN: OH MY GOD! CHAINZ JUST THREW GBJ FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE RING AND LANDED HALFWAY UP THE STEEL RAMP WITH THAT THUNDER FIRE BOMB! HOLY CRAP!
Jeff Marx: This match is officially over, Kern! There’s no way - and I mean NO WAY - that Garbage Bag Johnny can fight back from that!
Michael “Chainz” Sloan rolls out of the ring, walks up to Garbage Bag Johnny, grabs him by the hair and takes him back to the ring. After throwing GBJ back onto the ring, Chainz picks up GBJ, sets him up for a Power Bomb and drives his spine onto the canvas. Without letting go, he lifts GBJ’s limp body up into the air and drills GBJ’s spine onto the mat. He’s not done yet, oh no! He lifts GBJ up into the air again, elevates him with a Last Ride style Power Bomb and snaps GBJ down with the Elevated Power Bomb. He goes for the cover, hooking the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
THR!
NO! Garbage Bag Johnny gets the shoulder up!
Jeff Marx: HOW IN THE HELL IS HE IN THIS MATCH!?
Dave Kern: I don’t believe it! Garbage Bag Johnny is still in this match!
Completely beside himself now, Michael Sloan yanks Garbage Bag Johnny to his feet and whips him into the ropes. Instead of bouncing off the ropes, he leaps into the air, springboards off the top rope, does a backflip and hits his Moon Sault DDT!
Dave Kern: Whirlwind Debris! He’s going for the cover!
Jeff Marx: KICK OUT, SLOAN!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
“GBJ Will Win Zero 2 Hero” by Primus feat. GBJ plays on the PA system, and Pierre Perroquet announces the winner...
Pierre Perroquet: Zee winner... GAR-BAUGE BAG JOHNNY!
Dave Kern: What a blockbuster of a Main Event, ladies and gentlemen! Chainz had Garbage Bag Johnny dominated the majority of the match, but he couldn’t beat the Transatlantic champion! With Paddy O’Shea as the number one contender for Johnny’s title, O’Shea will know that GBJ will be a hurting unit going into Untouchable!
Jeff Marx: Man, I can’t believe that Chainz didn’t win the match! He had the match right where he wanted and he let the temper get the best of him! I think he deserves a TA title shot after the showing he put on!
Dave Kern: Folks, that’s all the action and time we have for tonight! Tune in next week for another edition of Fresh!, and Untouchable is only ten days away! For Jeff Marx, I’m Dave Kern! Goodnight, everybody!