Fresh!west Results4th July 2006
Leap Of Faith I
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, SASHA VOLKYEVA
AUTHOR: LARA C.
David Harber strode through the halls of Richmond Coliseum, his eyes held a fiery gaze as he took a sharp turn. The coat tails of his jacket flapped vehemently behind him as wind swept past. His mind filled with confusion and anger as he looked at the large board from Divide And Conquer, a single name baffled him.
Pierce Lavelle
It wasn’t the fact he had written it, more the statement of his initials draped over the two shows, his decision undecided and his trust divided. Ironic… Pearl thought turning now toward his office where the true anger waited in a lure of strong European perfume.
The doors opened with a single turn of the brass door knob as Pearl’s eyes traced the room till they drew upon the red gown worn by none other than Sasha Volkyeva. Her hair tied in a tight bun behind her head as she remained omniscient and silent on his arrival.
Sasha Volkyeva: Interesting show, David.
Her Russian accent accentuated through the silence, cutting the tension like a hot knife through butter, her eyes turned to the steely gaze cast from David Harber, who had now shut the door and stood defiant beside it, hands in his pockets.
Pearl: Why are you even here? Let’s cut the crap, Sasha.
Sasha Volkyeva: That’s no way to treat a friend, David.
David Harber sniggered and moved toward his desk, his mind wondered as to why he was blessed with the foul company that so often followed him; his hopes were that Divide And Conquer would separate the large seeming stress bubble that was Sasha Volkyeva from him.
Pearl: We are far from friends, Sasha, you know that.
Sasha Volkyeva: You were not saying this a few months ago, were you?
A smirk brimmed across her hot red lipstick till it dawned against her pale white skin.
Pearl: Enough of the games. I’ll ask again; why are you here Sasha? This isn’t a house call…
Sasha laughed maniacally to herself for a brief moment and pulled out a folder from behind a cushion.
Sasha Volkyeva: You know me too well, David. This is more a business call.
Pearl: Business call? We have split rosters now; there’s no business between us...
Sasha smiled and mouthed the words You’re wrong. Harber leant into his chair trying to think of how she could be so confident and eager, without a care as to the fact he could have her thrown out. It was then it hit him… Upon his arrival, the signature board, the one name that remained ubiquitous amongst all the others...
Sasha Volkyeva: Ah see, you do know what I am talking about…
Pearl: What makes you think he’ll sign with you?
Pearl folded his arms and stared into her eyes, looking for a clue as to what her plan was.
Sasha Volkyeva: It is quite simple really, David…
Pearl: Last I checked, you had him committed to a drug trial, allowed Adam Dick access to the lab in which his blood was, and bam he faces a ban for one year.
Sasha Volkyeva: Ah yes, but you broke his trust.
Pearl: He won’t sign with you!
Sasha stood now and placed the document onto Pearl’s table – the piece of paper resembled a photo of the signature sheet – Sasha smiled toward him and turned to leave.
Sasha Volkyeva: Who do you think he hates more…?
Pearl looked on as the foul smell of perfume evaporated with her departure, but a nauseating feeling remained.
She might be right…
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHORS: SONYA, JOSH K. AND PIERRE HYDE
The lights grow dim in the Richmond Coliseum. The Virginia a crowd get wild as their attention is drown to an American Flag waving across the tron. Toby Keith’s ‘Courtesy of the Red While and Blue’ hits the speakers causing the arena to explode with patriotism. Words appear in black, then fade into nothing as they accompany Toby’s lyrics.
American Girls and American Guys
We’ll always stand up and salute
We’ll always recognize
When we see Old Glory Flying
There’s a lot of men dead
So we can sleep in peace at night
When we lay down our head
WHILE YOU GRILL YOUR HAMBURGERS AND HOT DOGS...
The camera pans around the Richmond Coliseum as red, white, and blue pyro explodes above the ring. The American crowd is going wild in anticipation of AWC's first event in the United States in months.
Truth Waters: Cassidy, it feels good to be back home in the United States in America for the first ever episode of Fresh!west! We've got a packed house here tonight on a very special July 4th edition of Fresh!
George Cassidy: Yeah, I'm just happy to be out of Canada.
My daddy served in the army
Where he lost his right eye
But he flew a flag out in our yard
Until the day that he died
He wanted my mother, my brother, my sister and me
To grow up and live happy
In the land of the free.
AS YOU ENJOY YOUR POTATO SALAD, BAKED BEANS, AND HOMEMADE ICECREAM...
The camera focuses in on fans with patriotic signs. Most of the signs seem to focus on American wrestlers, forgetting all about the usual fan favorites like Jack Murphy, Red Rock, Mikey O'Reilly, and other Irish and British wrestlers. Instead, there are lots of signs for Teresa Tomas, Vince Jones, and even Ellis Nash and GBJ.
Truth Waters: We've got a great show lined up tonight. The new Alliance champions, the Furious Fists of God are taking on Jack Murphy and Captain Suleimon, and strangely enough, I don't know who the crowd is going to side with! Also, Teresa Tomas defends her newly won Countdown trophy against "The Violence" Vince Jones!
George Cassidy: There's only really one match worth watching here, though, Truth. The main event tonight features two of my personal favorites against Agent Dash and that stupid boxing mick. I don't know if I want Ellis to win or Garbage Bag to win.
Truth Waters: Well, Cass, don't forget that the winner of that match gets to book their own schedule until Coast to Coast! Considering some of the competitors in the match, I don't know if that's a very good idea on Hyde's behalf.
Now this nation that I love
Has fallen under attack
A mighty sucker punch came flyin’ in
From somewhere in the back
Soon as we could see clearly
Through our big black eye
Man, we lit up your world
Like the 4th of July
TAKE A MINUTE TO REMEMBER AS YOU LIGHT YOUR FIREWORKS THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO FOUGHT, SACRIFICED, AND DIED FOR THAT FREEDOM.
George Cassidy: I'll tell you another bad idea - the American flag pin. Isn't it a bit disrespectful to drape the red, white, and blue over the mat? And this song sucks. We should be listening to Bruce Springsteen.
Truth Waters: Bruce Springsteen?
George Cassidy: Hell yeah! He's the boss.
Hey Uncle Sam
Put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty
Started shakin’ her fist
And the eagle will fly
Man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom
Start ringin’ her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue
FREEDOM ISN’T FREE…
Justice will be served
And the battle will rage
This big dog will fight
When you rattle his cage
And you’ll be sorry that you messed with
The U.S. of A.
`Cause we`ll put a boot in your ass
It`s the American way
SUPPORT OUR TROOPS
Images of American soldiers dispatched around the world appear on the big screen, and the crowd goes wild.
Hey Uncle Sam
Put your name at the top of his list
And the Statue of Liberty
Started shakin’ her fist
And the eagle will fly
Man, it’s gonna be hell
When you hear Mother Freedom
Start ringin’ her bell
And it feels like the whole wide world is raining down on you
Brought to you Courtesy of the Red White and Blue
GOD BLESS THE USA
Finally, the electronic image of a waving flag lasts out on the screen as the pyro dies down and the audience begins to calm, waiting for tonight's event to begin.
Truth Waters: Divide And Conquer is over, the roster split is on, and it’s Truth Waters and George Cassidy bringing you action from the West Atlantic!
George Cassidy: The name on even my lips is that of Pierce Lavelle… we saw somebody write his name on the sign-up sheet at the end of Divide And Conquer; could it really be signaling the Legend’s return?
Truth Waters: It’s Independence Day everyone, as you’ll have gathered! I hope you’re having a damn fine July 4th; we’re gonna make it that much better with our Battle For Independence. Ellis Nash, AgentDash, Mikey O’Reilly and GBJ looking to make it twelve wins out of twelve… tonight’s winner will get the opportunity to schedule his or her own matches right up to Coast To Coast!
George Cassidy: We kind of already mentioned that…
Truth Waters: So we did! Stay tuned for a fantastic show!
Just A Small Problem
FEATURING: STEPHEN JACKSON, BRETT JACKSON, GREG JACKSON, AWC SECURITY TEAM
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
Flicking backstage, the cameraman was in place as a flashy, black limo pulled up to the Richmond Coliseum in Richmond, Virginia and came to a stop outside the arena.
After a couple of seconds of quiet the limo door was pushed open and a black shoe, attached to a trouser-covered leg, planted itself on the asphalt. This was swiftly followed by the rest of the body and a suited man stepped out of the car and looked up at the arena with a smile.
”I’m finally home…”
His delighted words came as a surprise to the watching AWC fans who failed to recognise the man that wore a black suit, deep blue tie and a blue shirt that was slightly lighter than the tie. His hair was slicked back, exposing his aging face that placed him around the 40 year old mark and after taking a couple of steps into the humid summer air, he was followed by two younger men, wearing matching suits. The old man glanced over his shoulder.
Old Man: Boys, this is the stuff that dreams are made of. Tonight, I return to my roots at your sides...
He winked at the two boys and then started out towards the arena doors. The trio walked in an “arrow” formation towards the arena with the two boys, still not having spoke. They simply possessed huge grins, and looked at each other in wonderment.
However, as they reached the doorway Bruno Hague, AWC Head of Security, stepped into their way and towered over the three men.
Bruno Hague: Can I help you gentlemen?
Bruno looked down on the suited men with suspicion. Last time three men turned up to a PTC show unannounced Tyler Nelson became the new boss of PRIME. Not that Tyler Nelson would buy AWC as PRIME > AWC but you know; someone else might want them.
Old Man: Good evening Mr. Security guy. I’m Greg Jackson and these two young men are my sons, The Jackson Brothers. We have all agreed deals with AWC and we’re here to take in our first show.
Bruno Hague: The Jacksons?
Bruno looked at the three men; who simply nodded in unison at mention of their names, and then down he turned his attention towards his clipboard.
Bruno Hague: Hold on until I just consult the AWC-West roster list… Since this damn divide, I have to make sure that no one unwanted gets into the AWC broadcasts…
Greg Jackson: That’s understandable. The wrestling industry is full of dodgy characters. I remember one time I watched one guy…
Jackson Son #1: Dad… This guy has probably seen it all. Stop trying to impress him.
Greg Jackson turned to the first son to speak, who had interrupted him. It was clear to see that both of the Jackson boys were nervous, despite their smiles. They were about to enter the big-time.
Bruno Hague: Okay, I have Greg Jackson and Stephen Jackson… That’s it. I have two names…
Greg Jackson: What?
Jackson Son #1: What?
Jackson Son #2 (who we should assume is not Stephen Jackson): What about me?
Stephen Jackson: Yeah, what about him?!?
Bruno shrugged.
Bruno Hague: I’m sorry. Your name isn’t down, so you’re not coming in.
The Jackson trio stood in disbelief. Stephen glanced at his brother.
Stephen Jackson: There’s got to be a mistake. Why isn’t he on the roster?
Bruno shrugged again.
Bruno Hague: I’m sorry… I was handed this sheet by Dave at the start of tonight and told to make no exceptions.
Greg Jackson: Would you check the sheet again?
Bruno shook his head.
Bruno Hague: There are only two names ending in Jackson on this sheet; Greg and Stephen. I’m afraid you will have to stay out here…
Bruno had his attention on the as-yet-unnamed Jackson, as Greg glanced towards Bruno’s clipboard.
Greg Jackson: May I see that?
Bruno Hague: No. Don’t you believe me?
Bruno stuck out his chest as he questioned Greg Jackson and simply stood over the 5’ 8” manager. The Jackson father let out a nervous giggle as he backed away.
Greg Jackson: Of course I believe you… But just let me look. It will put my mind at rest.
Bruno Hague: Fine.
Hague relented through seer tiredness as he was in no mood to argue with the newcomers to the AWC pay-list and quickly spun the clipboard into Greg’s view.
After a number of seconds of observation, Greg turned to his second son with a dejected expression.
Greg Jackson: I can’t see you on it. Sorry Brett…
As Brett looked at his dad in disbelief, Greg threw his arms around his son in a hug.
Bruno Hague: Maybe if you talk to David Harber he will be able to explain the situation…
Greg Jackson: Who’s he?
Stephen Jackson: You know dad… The guy that signed us.
Greg Jackson: Oh yes. Man with a strange haircut. I remember. Where is he?
Bruno Hague: In his office… Follow the signs that he has put on the wall…
Greg nodded and slid past the imposing figure of Bruno Hague.
Greg Jackson: Let’s go kids!
Greg was quickly followed by Stephen Jackson but as Brett tried to enter Bruno placed his right hand on Brett’s chest.
Bruno Hague: Take one more step and I will break you…
Bruno managed to smile the whole way through his threat as the two Jacksons in the arena stopped and turned. Greg & Stephen: What?
Bruno shrugged.
Bruno Hague: Like I said. I was told to only allow the people on this list into the arena. So he will have to stay out here while you go and sort it out.
Greg and Stephen decided against arguing as they looked at Brett before turning around and heading in the direction David Harber.
In the parking lot, Brett Jackson let out a sigh and leant into the wall. Bruno Hague watched him slide down the arena wall and sit on the ground,
Bruno Hague: So kid… You been watching the World Cup?
Brett Jackson: The what?
Bruno Hague: The soccer World Cup… It’s a bit of a fringe sport. Different countries actually compete against each other, instead of like a World Series. Very bizarre. It’ll never catch on. I’m managed to watch some on ESPN 8; after the Dodge ball finished…
Brett Jackson: Not really. Wrestling is everything I do.
Bruno sighed as the camera began to fade away.
Bruno Hague: AWC is either Irish knackers, whack jobs like Chainz or genetically modified ”Wrestling is my life” freaks… Where are the normal guys?
Technical Difficulties
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: ???
We go to ringside where Pearl Harber is standing in the ring with a microphone in hand. He has a smile on his face and big plans going on in his head. The fans cheers echo throughout the building, his music stops and he walks to the centre of the ring.
Truth Waters: Tonight is Independence Day ladies and gentlemen and it looks like we’re kicking off the celebrations with “Pearl” Harber tonight.
George Cassidy: That’s right Truth, I can’t wait for tonight’s festivities, the AWC stands divided all the way until Coast To Coast.
Pearl: Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to---
At that moment, Pearl’s microphone cuts out. Pearl tries speaking into it again, he bangs it then tries again.
Pearl: Test… ah that’s better, sorry about that ladies and gentlemen, as I was getting at, tonight is Independence Day and I for one cannot wait for what’s to come.
The lights cut out, the fans hush in silence patiently, and the big screen then shows a screen full of water, almost giving off a calming effect, the calming effect then changes as the water seems to disappear, all fading away except for three sections which give off the letters “PWC”. The crowd erupts into cheers, the screen then goes back to normal and the lights return as they were before.
Truth Waters: What the hell was that?
George Cassidy: Apparently it was PWC.
Truth Waters: Yeah but what is PWC? Those letters have been scrawled all over the AWC website, being hacked into constantly; I think Pearl is getting sick of it.
Pearl: Alright that’s it. Excuse me everyone, I must tend to a little matter at hand and believe me, it is a little matter.
Pearl throws the microphone on the mat and leaves the ring; he then marches up the ramp and to the back where he looks irate.
Parking Lot Panic
FEATURING: VINCE JONES, JASMINE, FANS
AUTHOR: JAY
The camera slowly fades into the parking lot outside the arena where a red ferrari pulls to screeching hault. The door swings open and Vince Jones steps out clad in his usual all-black street gear and his dark signature shades on his face which shade his eyes. His lovely valet, Jasmine, steps out the car as well with a large grin on her face and she playfully skips over to his side.
Jasmine: V...
Vince Jones: Yeah?
Jasmine: Don't you think you should give Reno a second chance? I mean he has done a great job as your agent in the past.
Vince Jones: Hmph! (slams the car door) You kiddin'? That bitch is done! And there'll be no more business relations between Reno Banks and 'The Violence' Vince Jones! That's just the way its gonna be. V came into this game without him and he don't need his punk ass to handle his business no more, Jasmine!
Jasmine: Well, if you say so...
Vince Jones: Hell yeah! Its been said and its been done! No need to talk anymore about that shit.
All of a sudden Vince Jones turns around, lowers the dark shades on his face, and begins chuckling to himself. Jasmine looks at him in confusion.
Jasmine: What is it, V?
Vince Jones: (points across the parking lot) Get a load of these slack-jawed yokel lookin' mahfuckas across the way...
Jasmine turns and spots what Vince is looking at and turns her nose up at the sight in disgust.
Jasmine: Oh my gosh!
The camera pans and catches sight of an RV where a group of people are all sitting around wearing Nascar jackets and are barbecuing. There is a large sign plastered on the side of their RV which reads: Teresa Tomas Fan Club. Vince Jones and Jasmine make their way across the parking lot and meet up with the group of individuals. The elder of the group who has a large bushy beard and is rocking away in a rocking chair tips his cowboy hat to Vince and Jasmine as they approach.
Elder: (with a thick Southern accent) Well, howdy diddly freakin' do neighbor. How you two doin'?
A small boy wearing a Teresa Tomas t-shirt scurries over to the old man and begins tugging on his arm.
Boy: Granpa...
Elder: What is there yer ole whipper snapper?
Boy: Granpa, that's...
Vince Jones: We just some friendly people from New Yawk that thought we'd come over and say hi..
Elder: (cups his ear) Huh? I can't hear you. What you say there?
Vince Jones: Eh, fuck it! Anyways, what you all got goin' out here.
Red-haired woman: Well, we drove all the way out here from Texas to see our hero, Teresa Tomas, in action tonight. See, we're part of the Teresa Tomas Fan Club if you hadn't noticed stranger.
Vince Jones shakes his head and rolls his eyes at their ignorance.
Vince Jones: Uh yeah. V kinda caught that notion from that big ass fuckin' sign you people got on the side of this damn RV and shit.
Red-haired woman: (chuckles to herself) Oh, I almost forgot.
Jasmine looks down at their Nascar jackets in disgust.
Jasmine: And... I see you all like Nascar.
Blonde-haired man: Yes'm. We like our Nascar and Dale Jarrett.
Jasmine: Yeah... interesting.
Vince Jones walks over to their grill and looks at it with feigned curiosity.
Vince Jones: Oh, and what you people grillin' and shit, huh?
Blonde-haired man: Oh, we're grillin' some pig feet. Would you like some?
Vince turns up his nose at the offer and just shakes his head.
Vince Jones: V'll pass on that shit. So, you idiots haven't figured this out yet?
Blonde-haired man: Figured what out, sir?
Vince Jones looks at Jasmine and just bursts with laughter.
Vince Jones: This is way too easy. (turns towards the blonde-haired man) You haven't figured who this is?
Blonde-haired man: Why no...
Vince Jones punches the blonde-haired man in the face and knocks him down on the ground. The red-haired lady and the young boy both jump back in fear. Vince looks down at him and laughs.
Vince Jones: This 'The Violence' Vince fuckin' Jones! That's who this is! This the man that's gonna be buryin' yo lil hero, Teresa Tomas tonight.
Vince whirls around kicks over their grill and laughs. The old man in the rocking chair is totally oblivious to what's going on around him. Suddenly Vince kicks over the rocking chair knocking the old man to the ground in pain. He holds his back in agony as Vince just laughs.
Vince Jones: Oh, and if you cats happens to run into that lil redneck girl's punk ass tell her V. Jones the one that did this shit!
Vince Jones whips out a knife from his pocket and begins puncturing the tires of their RV as the woman and the boy just watch in horror. Vince and Jasmine walk away laughing as the little boy begins crying and the woman tries to comfort. The camera slowly fades to black.
Horazon vs Lacuna Debris
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: LARA C.
The arena lights flicker momentarily as the fans quieten in their seats, ready for another exciting performance from the West Atlantic superstars. Truth Waters and George Cassidy affix their microphones as they steady themselves for the upcoming match.
Truth Waters: Great show so far, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Yeah, sure. This whole split is confusing.
Truth Waters: I think it’ll work out well.
George Cassidy: Of course you do, you always think everything’s ‘peachy’.
Truth Waters: I – huh –
Truth Waters paused a moment, not willing to tempt his partners foul temperament, they awaited for the burst of pyrotechnics, the loud screams of fans and the shudder of James Brunt’s announcement.
‘Arsehole’ by Engerica erupts over the shrill of cheers from various fans lining the arena. Lacuna Debris’s entrance music speaks to the cacophony of cheers, as she emerges with a swagger in her step, a slight air of confidence surrounding her.
James Brunt: Making her way to the ring from Derbyshire, England. Weighing in at 198lbs, LACUNA DEBRIS!
George Cassidy: I think my day has just brightened…
Truth Waters: Lacuna Debris, one half of The New Black. Runners up at the pay-per view to the Alliance Champions, Furious Fists of Gods.
George Cassidy: She could pin me, any day!
Lacuna Debris turns before entering the ring, her eyes scanning the arena, before laying a deathly gaze upon George Cassidy. She slides into the ring to the cheers of fans and remains stood in the ring corner awaiting her opponent and chance to shine as a single wrestler, to prove her worth.
Truth Waters: Deadly gaze from, Debris.
George Cassidy: Ooohh, I think she likes me.
Truth Waters: Don’t get your hopes up!
George Cassidy: Hey…
Cassidy’s rebuttal is broken by the electric stylings of ‘Underdog’ by Audio Adrenaline. Horazon emerges a smile flashed across his face as he flexes and stretches, looking toward the mass amount of fans, each one cheering for his approach.
George Cassidy: I was talking…damn…they cut me off!
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring from Oklahoma, USA. Weighing in at 224lbs, HORAZON!
George Cassidy: Hora – what?
Truth Waters: Horazon, one of Harber’s new signings.
George Cassidy: Is Harber nuts, he just put a beautiful lady in the ring with a tank.
Truth Waters: Women aren’t inferior in the wrestling ring, Cassidy. You should know that.
George Cassidy: I know, but they’re too pretty to be hurt.
Truth Waters: Compassion, well I didn’t think you had that in you.
Horazon ignoring the various remarks made by the commentator’s slides into the ring and gazes toward Lacuna Debris, a grin across his face as he eyes her up and down, extending his hand out of sportsmanship. Joseph Reid slides into the ring to announce the match.
Lacuna Debris moves forward taking his hand and shakes it. Reid calls for the bell and immediately Debris is on the offensive, slicing her boot into Horazon’s gut, Lacuna Debris kneels down and executes a swift upper hook, knocking Horazon backward, his vision blurred slightly, he shakes off the cobwebs and looks at the women, her hands on hips, egging him on.
Horazon circles around Debris, his eyes filled with focus, looking toward Debris with caution, they ignite into a grapple hold – both relenting, but with Horazon’s added weight and brute strength he over powers Debris, gripping her hair he swings her around the ring till she lands on her stomach, her chin skidding against the ring mat.
George Cassidy: Ah, here, Ref…Do something…
Truth Waters: Cassidy, settle down. She can handle herself.
Debris rises holding her chin she feels the unfamiliar welcome of a carpet burn on her chin. Her eyes pierce towards Horazon, an unrelenting gaze, she charges. Horazon lifts his leg in attempt for a big boot, but he misses, Debris slides under him and grapples his waist, her fingers locked into one another she tries for German Suplex.
George Cassidy: German Suplex…Come on…
Lacuna Debris lifts, but to no avail, Horazon stands still, hands in the air and a smile across his face. With a quick turn of his body, Horazon was now facing Debris, her arms linked around his waist.
Truth Waters: Well, this is interesting.
Horazon smirks and pushes her backwards, Debris fumbles and bounces off the ropes in attempt to retaliate, but Horazon is quick and with other plans picks Debris up into a flapjack and launches her high above his head. Debris’s eyes widen in shock as she crashes to the mat below, gripping her stomach after the impact, having the wind knocked out of her.
Horazon kneels next to her, stretching his body across her for the pin.
George Cassidy: Disgraceful…
Truth Waters: All for one and one for all, Cassidy. Can’t be a nice guy in the ring.
One
Tw--
KICKOUT
Debris lurches her arms out from under Horazon and rolls onto her side, taking deep breaths she watches Horazon rise, her leg outstretched for a stomp, with a second to spare; Debris rolls just as Horazon’s boot connects with the mat. The shock ripples up Horazon’s leg as he limps backwards, feeling his knee tighten on impact.
George Cassidy: That’s a girl, now go for the groin!
Truth Waters: Eh, Cassidy, you feeling alright?
Seeing her moment, Debris stumbles to a standing position, tensing her body she lunges forward, arms outstretched she grapples the back of Horazon’s head and executes a perfect swinging neck breaker.
”LET’S GO DEBRIS!”
The fans chant for the female wrestler as she stands over the fallen Horazon, seeing her point of weakness, Debris mounts the turnbuckle and waits for Horazon to stand.
Truth Waters: Tides have changed, Debris now on the offensive.
George Cassidy: Talented too…
Truth Waters: Delirious, another symptom.
Horazon rises in confusion and gazes out toward the fans, but sees no Debris, turning around their eyes meet momentarily as she flies off the turnbuckle, her legs locking around his head, she spins and falls, attempting a hurricanrana, but Horazon is reluctant to subside, he holds her firmly and spins, planting her in a powerbomb.
”HOLY SHIT!”
Debris lands awkwardly on her neck and she remains rigid as Horazon goes for the pin.
Truth Waters: That didn’t look good.
George Cassidy: DAMN YOU REF…She could be hurt. OPEN YOUR EYES.
Reid looks up toward Cassidy, confused with the irrational behaviour of the commentator and turns toward Horazon who looks on slightly bemused by Cassidy’s benevolence, Horazon then turns and grips Debris’s legs, pulling out into the middle of the ring.
”LET’S GO HORAZON!”
“DEBRIS! DEBRIS!”
The fans all cheer in unison for either wrestler. Horazon devises his plan, looking to give the fans a great match, he plans to make a name for himself as he mounts the turnbuckle, looking over his shoulder toward Debris, who lies motionless in the ring.
Horazon taking a deep breath, turns around and jumps, his body flipping in mid air.
Truth Waters: Swanton Bomb…
Horazon flies majestically and comes crashing down to his prey below, but Debris rolls pulling onto Reid for support, she manages to escape the collision path, but Reid isn’t as lucky as Horazon’s boots collide with his face.
Debris looks at Horazon lying motionless, she stretches her arm out of the pin.
”ONE!”
“TWO!”
“THREE!”
The fans chant, but Reid is out cold, it doesn’t count. Debris looks around and sees Reid struggling to stand at the side, his lip burst open. She stands up, flustered, and tries in a vain attempt to rattle the referee back to life.
George Cassidy: Looks like the big guy tried, good move though, took out the referee.
Truth Waters: Horazon and Debris proving their worth in a very reverently planned match.
Feeling two eyes burning a hole in her back, Debris turns and sees Horazon standing up, the fans cheering for them both. Debris leaves the now awakened Reid and stands to confront her foe. Both look at one another, but Horazon is first to act, lunging his boot once more, but Debris grips it, a smile across her face, she lunges her own boot, connecting with Horazon’s groin.
Struggling with a shooting sense of pain, Horazon bends over, omniscient to Debris’s charge. Running DDT. Debris plants Horazon’s face firmly into the mat, as his legs shoot out from under him. She pins now, for the first official time.
One
Tw--
KICKOUT
”OOOOOOOOOO!”
The fans all cheer and look on at the two, taking each blow and remaining strong. Debris nods her head and grapples Horazon by the head pulling him into a sitting position, she runs across the ropes and plants a dropkick into the back of his head – working on the weak spot she noticed earlier – Horazon cringes, gripping his neck with a sharp sense of whiplash.
Truth Waters: Quick and expedient, a very vivacious style for Debris.
George Cassidy: These two are proving their worth, that’s for sure.
Truth Waters: Huh?
Ignoring Waters confusion in regards to Cassidy’s usually irrational behaviour, Debris watches Horazon stagger to his feet, shaking his head to rid the pain, but it works to no avail, a headache slowly creeping up on him his eyes remain fixed on the lady before him. He needed to be more alert with her.
Both began to circle once again, Debris using the ropes as a sort of propulsion, runs toward Horazon but slides under his legs and goes for the ropes again, this time lunging over his bent back and hitting another neck breaker, but Horazon holds her firm, her hands still around his neck, he tries to lift her into the air, but Debris retaliates hitting a bulldog neck breaker (stunner). Horazon lurches backwards and collapses.
Truth Waters: Stunner counter by Debris. Horazon is out flat for the pin.
The fans are ecstatic with the match, enjoying the twos performance. Debris circles her body around and plants herself on top of Horazon for the pin.
One
Two
Th--
KICKOUT
”LET’S GO DEBRIS!”
“LET’S GO HOR-A-ZON!”
The fans chants are deafened by the opposite. Debris smiles, enjoying her match so far, she clambers off Horazon, but a firm grip stops her. Her eyes follow those that watch her, Horazon has his hands firmly gripped around her waist and stomach, he rolls, now on top her, he smiles smug to himself, but Debris’s legs firmly plant themselves between her and Horazon, flipping him over her head. Horazon slides out of the ring, shaking off the cobwebs.
1
2
3
4
Truth Waters: Reid making the count.
George Cassidy: What’s Debris doing?
Reid is bent through the ropes, making the count clear to Horazon, who continues to shake his head, trying to clear the dust that settled over him momentarily. Debris sees Reid as a lunging board, she propels off the ropes and using Reid she dives over the ropes, colliding with Horazon, the two connecting against the ramp.
Truth Waters: Suicide Dive from Debris…
Reid looks in astonishment as both Horazon and Debris are out cold on the grated ramp.
1
2
3
4
5
Debris begins to move, holding her shoulder in pain, she moves wearily towards the ring.
6
7
8
Debris slides in, breaking the count, but a sharp pain stretches up her leg as she watches Horazon slam it into the turnbuckle post. Reid looks on, breaking the count, Horazon slides into the opposite side of the ring and runs sliding his body into a baseball slide, and his feet connect with Debris’s stomach. She coughs, gripping her stomach; she notices the gash on her arm.
Truth Waters: It seems Debris was hurt in the suicide dive.
George Cassidy: MEDIC!!!
Debris collides with the mat surrounding the ring, her sides in pain as she looks toward the ring, her eyes blinded by the spot lights hovering above her. Horazon gazes over the ring towards Debris, who is lying down clutching the apron, seeing his moment of opportunity open, Horazon slides out and turns to Debris. Debris shoots up, a kick to the groin once more. Horazon howls in unexpected pain, as Debris grips his hair and shoves him into the ring steps. A loud bang shakes the arena – bone against metal – Horazon stumbles over the steps, the corner of one scratching his lower back.
Debris slides into the ring, taking this time to recuperate and assess her next plan of action.
Truth Waters: Counter by Debris. Both are showing an excellent battle, pure talent.
George Cassidy: (yawning) I need more coffee…
Debris gazes around her for some window to open, but sees nothing but Horazon rising quickly, stretching his back and feeling the warm droplet of crimson that trickles from his open wound. Turning now toward the ring, Horazon sees Reid tending to Debris.
Reid looks on as he watches Horazon slide into the ring, catching his own breath, Horazon awaits his chance. Debris thinking the same thing as Horazon, both lunges at one another from opposite ends of the ring.
Truth Waters: Double clothesline.
Debris and Horazon spin on impact, colliding with the mat. Reid looks on as both remain panting and tired, exhaustion and pain kicking-in.
George Cassidy: Both down for the count!
Reid looks around and begins to count, but Horazon stirs himself into a seated position, holding his chin with agony on his face as he turns to Debris – now crawling towards the ring post.
Horazon stand to some cheers as he watches Debris rise with the aid of the turnbuckle, Horazon crouches slightly, his posture bent as he charges toward Debris. Debris turns and sees Horazon charging towards.
Truth Waters: This isn’t looking good, Cassidy.
Debris gripping the ropes lunges her body into the air, Horazon connects the spear with the turnbuckle. His shoulder snapping backward on impact. Debris slides down and sees a chance she may not get again. Horazon stumbles backwards, a little dazed. Debris mounts the second ropes, her eyes never leaving her prey.
She turns her back, straightens her arms out and lunges. Whilst in the air, she spins, now facing Horazon, her feet connect with his chin, his head recoils backwards with a sharp snap on impact.
George Cassidy: My Wings! Debris connected My Wings…
Horazon falls to the mat, blood trickling from his mouth. Debris moves towards him and rolls him into a pin.
One
Two
Debris holds on, counting her blessings. Reid lowers his arm, the arena falling silent.
Three
Reid rises to his feet holding Debris up, Debris looks on, a smile across her face as the fans cheer for her.
James Brunt: Here is your winner, LACUNA DEBRIS!
Truth Waters: What a match.
George Cassidy: Indeed it was, Truth. Indeed it was…
Basically, He's Not Supposed To Be Here
FEATURING: GREG JACKSON, STEPHEN JACKSON, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
KNOCK! KNOCK!
The black suited sleeve of Greg Jackson welcomed the camera to David Harber’s office door. Despite usually employing an open door policy, it seemed for this introduction to the segment, they had decided to have the door locked. Whatever works for them.
”Come on in…”
David Harber’s instructions were heard through the door as Stephen turned the handle and pushed into the office of the AWC-West Entertainment Manger. Pearl glanced up from his paperwork and immediately flashed a smile at the new AWC workers.
Pearl: Ah… The Jackson Brothers... Welcome to AWC. Hold on, where is Brett?
Greg Jackson: In the parking lot, he couldn’t get past security.
Pearl: Well, didn’t you explain that you are the newcomers to Fresh!west?
Stephen Jackson: Of course we did…
Pearl: Okay… I’ll have a word with Bruno, the Head of Security. Hold on.
Greg Jackson: He was the guy that wouldn’t let him in. He said he wasn’t on the list.
As Greg finished his sentence, David hung up the phone he had lifted.
Pearl: Oh…
Pearl’s single word was filled with worry as he began to frantically type away on his computer.
Pearl: Shit…
Pearl glanced from the computer screen to the two Jackson men that stood his office.
Greg Jackson: What?
Pearl: It turns out, Brett is on the East roster… So really should be in Europe right now.
Greg & Stephen: What?
Pearl shrugged.
Pearl: It seems he has been drafted to Sasha’s roster list. And I have you two… He should be in Europe with his half of the AWC roster.
Stephen Jackson: But we’re a team! We’re brothers! It’s the gimmick!
Pearl: I know, I know.
David flashed his attention at the screen.
Pearl: Sasha and I promised we wouldn’t trade until Coast To Coast… But leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.
Greg Jackson: That’s it?!
Pearl nodded.
Pearl: I’m sorry…
Greg Jackson: But what about my tag team?
Pearl shrugged.
Pearl: Well, you only retired two years ago. You can cover for Brett for a couple of weeks…?
Greg Jackson: And what will Brett do?
Pearl: He’ll be in Europe!
Greg didn’t have a comeback. In the few seconds that the idea of returning to the ring had been flashed in front of him, his tune had quickly turned. He glanced at Stephen, who did not look pleased.
Greg Jackson: If I have to replace him, I have to replace him. Come on son… Let’s go see your brother.
Greg pulled his son from the room as Pearl Harber began furiously thumping the keys on his computer.
Pearl: God damn Sasha!
Entering The Big Time
FEATURING: TERESA TOMAS, MIKEY O'REILLY
AUTHORS: JEREMY J. AND SONYA
“Hey, Mikey. Congrats on your marriage and win against Paddy O’Shea.”
Those words greet Mikey O’Reilly when he enters Teresa Tomas’ locker room. Being the good friend that he is, he brings a couple of 12-packs of beer. Teresa smiles at Mikey as he sits down, opening one of the cold 12-packs, handing a beer to Teresa. She thanks him, pops the tap and tips her head back for a healthy swig of beer. Mikey takes one out, popping the tap. He looks over at Teresa, smiling.
Mikey O’Reilly: Thanks.
He pauses, taking a swig of his beer. He looks over at the large Countdown trophy that Teresa won at Divide And Conquer two weeks ago. Tonight, she’s defending her newly won trophy against Vince Jones, who came off a victory against the returning - and unfortunately injured - Shawn Harris. For Mikey O’Reilly, he’s in his first-ever Main Event match of his career, taking on former Frontier champion, Ellis Nash, Garbage Bag Johnny and AgentDash. The winner of that match books the rest of his - or her - schedule up until Coast To Coast.
Mikey O’Reilly: Congratulations on your Countdown Trophy win. You definitely deserve it. Unfortunately after this show, you’re going over to the East Atlantic tour.
Teresa Tomas: Yeah, I know. At least I can celebrate our Independence Day in the States before I head out.
She chugs the rest of her beer, crushes the can in her hand and throws it in a trashcan. She pulls out another one and pops the tap.
Teresa Tomas: I watched Vince beat the shit out of Shawn. You see Mikey, I’m not crippled and broken and even if I was, I got enough sense not to risk ruining my career over one match.
Mikey O’Reilly shakes his head, taking a drink of his beer.
Mikey O’Reilly: I’m glad you got a positive mind about this match Teresa. However, don’t count your chickens before they hatch, or whatever redneck saying you guys have.
Teresa Tomas chuckles at Mikey O’Reilly, smiling at him.
Teresa Tomas: That one works. So how does it feel to have a bare-knuckle match?
Mikey O’Reilly: It was fine until AWC forced me to make a mockery of the fight. Pearl Harber insisted that there had to be some weapons and wrestling in this match. Samuel Hagen would be---
The mentioning of Mikey O’Reilly’s bare-knuckle boxing mentor, Samuel Hagen, obviously pains him. His passing just last week shocked him, broke his heart and killed a part of him inside. If it weren’t for Samuel Hagan, he wouldn’t been a former eight-time Irish bare-knuckle boxing champion. He lets out a sigh, drinks the rest of his beer and throws it in the trashcan. He stands up, then looks down at Teresa Tomas.
Mikey O’Reilly: I better get going. Need to prepare for my match. Good luck, Teresa.
Mikey makes his way towards the locker room door, about to make his exit. Teresa Tomas watches Mikey leave with confusion and concern etched on her face. Before Mikey leaves, Teresa stops him.
Teresa Tomas: Mikey, are you okay?
Mikey O’Reilly: Hmm? Yeah, I am. Just need to prepare for my match is all. Nothing to worry about. I’m fine.
With that, Mikey O’Reilly sulks his way out of Teresa Tomas’ locker room. Teresa has no idea what just happened. She wants to go after Mikey to see what the problem is, but there isn’t any time. Her match starts in a few minutes. Even though Mikey said to Teresa not to worry about him, she is worried.
She is very worried indeed.
Search Party
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, AWC SECURITY TEAM, FREDROCK~!
AUTHOR: ???
Pearl is seen walking backstage, back and forth, a line of security guards lined up at the side of him, his hands are behind his back and he has a very troubles look upon his face. He stares at Bruno Hague and nods, the entire security team is there and even including the janitor, FREDROCK~!, this in it self shows the desperation of Harber to find the PWC. (It also shows that the shock value of Fred’s appearance in tonight’s main event is going to be significantly undermined - Ed.) Pearl stops in the middle of the line.
Pearl: Men, tonight we must rid ourselves of a menace, this menace has invaded our website, mocking us, and now our live show. I don’t know who they are or why they are doing this but it has to stop. It’s embarrassing the AWC and that’s not a good thing.
Bruno Hague: Don’t worry, we will get rid of these imbeciles. Some skulls are going to be cracked tonight.
FREDROCK~! stands there and mumbles to his mop.
Pearl: What was that?
FREDROCK~! ignores Pearl and walks off cradling the broom, Pearl shakes his head and turns back to Bruno.
Pearl: I want you to bring me whoever is behind this. The three of you – keep it together. I’ve not been hearing good things lately.
The three man security team nod sullenly at Pearl and walk off in search of the culprits, Pearl turns around and enters his office door, as he walks in a huge message is scrawled on his walk in blue spray paint reading “IN TIME” then in small letters “PWC” underneath it. Pearl gives it an evil look and marches out of the office.
Leap Of Faith II
FEATURING: TOMAS HARGROVE, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, MILO STINSON, SASHA VOLKYEVA
AUTHOR: LARA C.
Tomas Hargrove paced frantically up and down the halls, the aerial of his mobile between his teeth as his nerves began to mount an offensive on his usually calm demeanour. The day was running smoothly, he had done all that needed to be done and hoped to return to his hotel room for an early night before they set once more on the road, unfortunately for him, his luck had turned by the irritating shrill of his angered employer.
Tomas… I want you to wait for me in the lobby…
But… Sir… I was just -
NOW, Tomas.
Five minutes later, Tomas found himself alone and cold as the heating had been turned down in an attempt to cool the wrestlers after a long match. Tomas glanced toward the winding corridor as footsteps could be heard.
A moment’s notice would’ve been nice…Tomas thought folding his arms as he found he felt an overwhelming sense of annoyance sweep over him. I bet the boilers on the fritz and he needs a plumber, something irrelevant that could have waited till - Tomas’s train of thought froze when he saw David Harber emerge with an anger to his pace, his eyes held his for a moment – a celestial burning of determination glistened across them.
Pearl: Tomas, how did Sasha get in here?
Sasha Volkyeva is here? He was stunned, his small stature was a mere worm next to his employer and boss. Tomas had no idea Sasha had got into the building, let alone had spoken to Pearl.
Tomas Hargrove: I – eh – have no idea…
David Harber stopped a moment and looked toward Tomas with a quizzical gaze, his mind preoccupied with another matter.
Tomas Hargrove: Sir, would you like us to locate Sasha and remove her?
It was Tomas’s best bet at reassuring his position of trust with Harber – working as Pearl’s assistant had its highs and lows, this was definitely a low. Harber waved the request and turned on his heels, motioning for Tomas to follow him.
Pearl: Forget Sasha, she’s of no importance. We have bigger fish to catch…
The stretch limo sat idly by in the shadows, its headlights dimmed and the driver anxiously seated at some convention waiting for his limo to return as promised. Sitting out his instructions, Milo waited into the driver seat, his thumbs tapping off the steering wheel in frustration as he gazed toward the east exit.
What’s taking so long? Milo questioned, stretching his legs as pins-and-needles had already set in, much longer and he would need to do a lap before he could feel his legs and rear once more. This is much unlike her he thought, gazing once more toward the east exit, but yet again, the door remained shut, only a small luminescent bulb blinked overhead to alert him of any presence, yet there was none.
Sasha strode through the parking lot, up behind the limo, her eyes remaining fixed on the east exit, the very one she had Milo watch for a certain person to make his presence felt. As she gripped the door handle she heard a scream, her head turned ferociously toward Milo who remained rigid, tense, and his knuckles white.
Sasha Volkyeva: Relax, for Lenin’s sake…
Milo Stinson: I didn’t know you were coming from behind, you said watch the exit, I watch the exit…
Sasha Volkyeva: Not for me, you idiot!
Milo nodded and took a deep breath, his heart slowing; embarrassment was the new feeling now coursing through his blood. His own boss had heard him scream like a woman. Awakening from his twilight gaze, Milo turned toward Sasha who was now applying some lip gloss in the visor’s mirror.
Milo Stinson: Ms. Volkyeva, I have the information you required.
Sasha Volkyeva: Well?
Her eyes turned in the mirror toward him, but her head remained in the same spot. He felt an uneasy chill of nerves creep up his spine as he rooted around for his PDA.
Milo Stinson: He’s a very hard man to find, I would have had hard time in Russia.
Sasha Volkyeva: What do you mean hard to find, he’s everywhere!
Milo Stinson: Apparently not anymore.
Sasha stopped applying her lipstick and turned to Milo who had talked to her with rebuttal and an abrasive tone, she ignored his slight change in demeanour. Sitting in a car for three hours would do that to you.
Sasha Volkyeva: Is he here or isn’t he?
A smile brimmed across Milo’s face as he clicked a few buttons on his PDA, handing it over to Sasha, who now had a smile across her face too.
Sasha Volkyeva: Excellent work, Milo.
Teresa Tomas (cth) vs Vince Jones
STIPULATION: COUNTDOWN TROPHY
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Truth Waters: All right, we are back for more Fresh! action from out first show on the West Atlantic tour! Coming next, Teresa Tomas puts her Countdown trophy on the line against a man who came off an impressive victory over the returning Shawn Harris nearly two weeks ago at Divide And Conquer. Speaking of the pay-per-view, Teresa Tomas defeated AgentDash, Captain Suleimon and Kip Brown to take the Countdown trophy!
George Cassidy: I may not like Teresa Tomas all that much, but she did a great job winning the Countdown trophy at Divide And Conquer. But with Vince Jones’ win over Shawn Harris, he’s looking to keep his roll going, so I’m gonna pick Vince Jones to win this match!
Truth Waters: For those of you who aren’t familiar with this match, here’s how it goes: The match begins with a regular five-minute regular sanctioned time limit. When the five minutes are up, the rest of the match is contested in a sudden death one-pinfall match. The match is just about to start! Let’s go down to the ring.
James Brunt: The following is a Countdown Trophy Match!
The lights in the arena dim and a small fog begins to rise lining the ramp way leading down to the ring. All of a sudden a loud, booming, demon-like voice bellows out the message...
“PREPARE TO ENTER MY HELL, MY REALM, AND MY GAME...”
...as the words flash up on the screen in pulsing red letters. The message quickly fades away and the voice bellows out the message...
“...ENTER THE VIOLENCE...”
...as the words appear on the video screen embossed by flames. All of a sudden a loud gunshot rings out through the arena. The opening chords of “Thug Luv” begin to play as the oh-so familiar voice of 2Pac is heard throughout the arena…
Fool, we doin' this shit from Cleveland to L.A.
Whatever you bitches want. We bringin’ it!
Thug luv, bitch! What time is it?
Yo, I don’t give a fuck where you lay at, fool!
It’s time to slay these Bitch-ass killas
They ain’t even knowin’ what type of thugs we is. Where my thugs at?
The sound of a cocking of a gun, followed by gunshot repeated throughout is heard ringing out in the arena.
Bone thugs-n-harmony
I know you fools been waitin’ for this shit for a long time
Well, here it is! Here it is!
What you gonna do with it?
“The Violence” Vince Jones emerges from the entrance and makes his way to the edge of the ramp way with a black baseball bat in hand followed by the lovely Jasmine. He stops and raises the baseball bat in the air and flashes the hand sign of his old gang from New York as red pyro explodes behind him. He slowly makes his way down ringside totally oblivious to the flickering camera flashes and the hatred of the crowd.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, being accompanied by Jasmine. From New York City, New York, weighing 269 pounds... “THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
He slides into the ring, climbs the nearest turnbuckle and looks out at the crowd as if he’s in a trance, drawing in energy from the hatred the crowd has for him. He finally awakens and points the baseball bat out at the members of the crowd and once again raises the baseball bat above his head and flashes the hand sign of his gang. He then climbs back down to the mat and awaits his opponent.
George Cassidy: There’s my nigga, yo!
Truth Waters: You’re too white to go Gangsta, Cass.
James Brunt: His opponent...
The famous horn of the Dukes of Hazard’s General Lee seeps through the P.A. system, blasting “Dixie.” This is followed by Waylon Jennings picking the intro to “Good Ole Boys.” A record scratching abruptly stops the Southern anthem, followed by utter silence. Without warning a cannon is heard blasting through the speakers and the lights begin to flicker violently, “Big Guns” by AC/DC floods the building. Teresa Jane Tomas, Top Rope Temptress, THE American Woman, and AWC’s own Redneck Princess marches down the entrance ramp with a bottle of Jack Daniels in hand.
James Brunt: Making her way to the ring, from Nashville, Tennessee, weighing 145 pounds, she is “THE American Woman” and the current Countdown Trophy holder... TERESA TOMAS!
She stops mid-way, takes a long swig and chucks the nearly full bottle of booze over her shoulder into the crowd for a thirsty fan to enjoy before she completes her journey to the ring.
Truth Waters: There she is, ladies and gentlemen, the current Countdown Trophy holder! Ever since winning the trophy two weeks ago, she’s had a boost of confidence, and she’s ready to take on Vince Jones!
George Cassidy: Psh, Teresa Tomas is gonna get her ass kicked by “The Violence” because he’s DA MAN!
The referee assigned for this match, Richie Travis, calls for the bell, and the five-minute time limit flashes on the Atlantic Tron.
5:00
Truth Waters: Here we go, the first of the regular five-minute sanctioned match.
Both Teresa Tomas and Vince Jones circle the ring, sizing each other up. Teresa steps in to administer the collar and elbow tie up on her much larger opponent, but VJ will not be having any of that. Jones steps in, kicks Tomas in the gut and clubs her on the back of the neck with a forearm smash, sending Tomas down to the mat. The Richmond fans boo at “The Violence” as he jaw jacks with the fans, riling them up and fueling VJ up with hate.
Vince Jones walks over to his opponent, drops to his knees and starts choking “THE American Woman” with a blatant choke in front of the referee. Referee Richie Travis tries to break up the choke but to no avail. Before he can administer a five-count on Jones, Jones has already broken the choke. He picks up Teresa Tomas, scoops her up for a Body Slam and drills her spine first onto the match hard with a Body Slam. “The Career Killa” is walking around inside the ring, flashing gang signs, talking trash and working the fans up into a frenzy.
Truth Waters: Vince Jones has taken the early advantage of this match with his brawling tactics and a hard Body Slam on Teresa Tomas!
George Cassidy: You damn right, Truth! VJ’s gonna strip Teresa of her clothes, her dignity and her trophy!
Truth Waters: I wouldn’t go as far as stripping her of her clothes, Cass.
George Cassidy: Meh, you’re probably right, Truth. Who would want to see Teresa Tomas nekkid anyway? Things that make you go, “Blech!”
4:15
Vince Jones starts stomping away at Teresa Tomas, keeping her on the mat every time she tries to get to her feet. There are a few kicks to the head to keep her down on the mat when she tries to get up. Referee Richie Travis interjects himself and pushes Jones aside, giving him a warning. “NYC’s Most Rough Rugged and Raw” simply ignores the puny referee and walks over to his fallen opponent. He picks her up and sends her into the ropes. After “The Top Rope Temptress” rebounds off the rope, VJ clobbers Tomas hard with a stiff Clothesline, sending her down to the mat. He goes for the first pinfall of the match...
ONE!
TWO!
Kick-out by Teresa Tomas. Vince Jones gets to his feet, gets Tomas to a vertical with the assistance of a handful of hair, kicks her in the gut and drops her with a Cradle DDT! He goes for another cover...
ONE!
TWO!
Kick-out by Teresa Tomas.
Truth Waters: Damn, what a Cradle DDT by Vince Jones, but that isn’t enough to put the current Countdown Trophy holder away.
George Cassidy: Not to worry, Truth. VJ will take Teresa Tomas down and take her Countdown Trophy with him.
3:48
Grabbing another handful of hair, he gets Teresa Tomas to a vertical base. But before she gets to her feet, Teresa buries a forearm into Jones’ midsection, forcing him to let go the “Redneck Princess’” hair. Tomas rocks the larger opponent hard with a stiff right hand, making Jones wobble back and forth. She kicks him in the gut, gets behind him and executes a Side American Leg Sweep! (Teresa can’t call it a Side Russian Leg Sweep, she’s not Russian.) Keeping the momentum in her favor, she runs to the ropes, jumps onto the top rope, springboards, turns in midair and catches “The Violence” with a turning Guillotine Leg Drop! She goes for her first pinfall...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Vince Jones powers out before three.
Truth Waters: What a Springboard Guillotine Leg Drop by Teresa Tomas! Did you see her turn in midair?
George Cassidy: I will say that is impressive, but it will take a lot more than flashy aerial moves to put Vince Jones away!
As “The Violence” Vince Jones slowly sits up, Teresa Tomas bounces off the ropes and administers a Dropkick right in the side of VJ’s head, taking him down to the mat once more. She goes for another cover, hooking the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
Kick-out by Vince Jones. She picks up the much larger opponent and whips him into the ropes, but VJ counters and sends Tomas into the ropes. After the rebound, Tomas flies into the air, going for a Hurricanrana, but Jones counters the Hurricanrana attempt with a Power Bomb! Teresa is clutching her back after sustaining such a painful maneuver and the Virginians are jeering at “Mr AKA.” On the outside, Jasmine is applauding her man. After delivering the Power Bomb, he turns “THE American Woman” over onto the stomach and locks him his Ankle-lock he likes to the call the NYC Crippler. Teresa is screaming her head off, trying to break away from the maneuver.
George Cassidy: NYC Crippler! Break her damn ankle, Vince!
Truth Waters: He’s got that submission maneuver locked in tight, twisting on that ankle! And there’s Jasmine goading Teresa on the outside! What a bitch!
George Cassidy: Hey now, don’t be callin’ Vince’s woman a bitch! He won’t take too kindly to that!
2:56:
“The Conqueror, the Killa and the King” Vince Jones still has his Ankle Lock submission on Teresa Tomas, wrenching and twisting on Tomas’ ankle. “Double T” is trying desperately to crawl towards the ropes, but to no avail. VJ pulls Tomas into the center of the ring, and goes from the Ankle-lock into a Step-over Toehold Face-lock (STF) on “The Top Rope Temptress.” VJ is pulling back on the face-lock, making Tomas scream louder in anguish. Afterwards, he breaks the hold and slams Teresa’s face onto the mat, while getting jeered by the Virginians. He walks around inside the ring, showboating in the ring and talking trash.
Truth Waters: Vince Jones is dominating this match! He’s locked in his NYC Crippler Ankle-lock to eliminate Teresa Tomas’ highflying abilities, then chains into an STF! Teresa Tomas is in trouble!
George Cassidy: She might as well hand the trophy over to Vince Jones and not risk getting hospitalized by “The Career Killa.”
2:14
After locking in an STF, Vince Jones mounts Teresa Tomas’ back, throwing punches and elbows in the back of her head! Referee Richie Travis immediately breaks up Jones’ onslaught, giving him another warning, and giving Tomas the opportunity to recover. She’s clutching the back of her head and her ankle, groaning in pain. With the assistance of the ropes, she pulls herself up and puts all her weight on her hurt ankle, which isn’t a good idea at the time. She almost falls forward due to the pain she’s feeling in her ankle. VJ runs at her and takes her down with the Spear! The fans are booing at VJ once again after taking her down to the mat.
Truth Waters: What a Spear by Vince Jones! Teresa Tomas looks to be about done!
George Cassidy: Of course Teresa Tomas is done! There’s no way she can defeat Vince Jones! Not in the shape she’s in now!
Vince Jones grabs one of Teresa Tomas’ legs, spins around it, brings her other leg up and locks in a Figure-four Leg-lock! Teresa is screaming in pain, trying to reverse the Figure-four by rolling over onto her stomach. That way, the pain reciprocates and goes back to VJ. Tomas tries to roll back and forth, trying to roll herself onto her stomach, but VJ’s weight seems to be bolted onto the mat. Jones’ valet, Jasmine, runs over to her man’s side of the ring, poking her arms out through the middle and bottom ropes. Jones grabs a hold of them and Jasmine pulls back on Jones’ arms, straightening Jones out and inflict more pain on Teresa’s legs!
Truth Waters: Oh c’mon, ref! Vince Jones is using his girlfriend for assistance! Damn that jezebel!
George Cassidy: “Jezebel,” Truth? What are you, 90?
Truth Waters: By the time I’m 90, Cass, I’d still be able to kick your ass.
Jasmine lets go of Vince Jones when referee Richie Travis expected howl play. Jasmine goes back to her interfering ways, pulling on her boyfriend’s arms again, straightening him out and inflicting more pain on Teresa Tomas’ legs. Tomas is screaming in pain, pointing over at Vince Jones, showing the referee that Jasmine is interjecting herself in the match. Jasmine and Jones quickly break apart before the referee catches them. “The Violence” and his girlfriend resort to cheating once more and this time, referee Travis does catch them cheating and orders Jasmine to leave the ring! The fans are going ballistic with cheers as Jasmine throws a huge temper tantrum, getting escorted by AWC security to make things faster and easier. VJ has already broken the Figure-four and is in Travis’ face, arguing with the referee.
Truth Waters: All right! Richie Travis has thrown Jasmine out from ringside! What to go, Travis!
George Cassidy: Not way to go, Travis! He just threw out eyecandy!
Truth Waters: I think you’ll manage, Cass.
1:00
As you can see, there’s one minute remaining in this five-minute regular sanctioned portion of the match. It’s now crunch time for these two superstars before the sudden death round. Vince Jones knows jaw jacking with the referee isn’t going to get him the win and the Countdown Trophy. He turns to face his opponent, about to pick Teresa Tomas up. Tomas switches gears, rolls Jones up for the Inside Cradle!
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
OOH! Vince Jones barely kicks out before three. Both Teresa Tomas and VJ are on their feet now, Tomas does a low bridge and Dropkicks VJ right in the kneecap, sending the larger opponent down. She rolls over VJ (and has a little trouble, I might add), picks up the hurt knee and slams it onto the mat hard! VJ bellows out in pain, clutching at his knee. The “Redneck Princess” is relentless, grabbing at Vince’s hurt knee, kicking at it and drops an elbow on the side of his knee, locking in a Leg-lock! When Teresa locks in the Leg-lock, “The Violence” sits up and locks in a Rear Naked Choke, locking in the submission maneuver tight! “The Top Rope Temptress” lets go of the Leg-lock and struggles to get out of the Rear Naked Choke. She manages to throw an elbow into the side of VJ, forcing him to let go of the chokehold. She gets to her feet and does a Standing Moon Sault, going for the cover and hooking the leg...
ONE!
TWO!
THR---
NO! Kick-out by Vince Jones!
DING!
SUDDEN DEATH ROUND
Truth Waters: It’s time for the sudden death round of the match!
George Cassidy: Now it’s time to see some real action!
Teresa Tomas is on her feet now. After taking so much punishment on her legs, she’s gingerly picking up Vince Jones, kicking him in the gut and is going for a DDT. VJ counters Teresa’s DDT attempt by picking her up for a Northern Lights Suplex. But Tomas counters VJ’s counter and performs a Tornado DDT, driving the top of Jones head onto the mat! She goes for the pinfall, hooking the leg but “The Violence” muscles out before the pinfall could be administered. She gets to her feet and waits for VJ to get to a vertical base. As he gets to his feet, Teresa runs over to the ropes, jumps onto the top rope, springboards, turns in midair and flies at her opponent, but “The Violence” shoves referee Richie Travis into Tomas, watching their skulls collide against one another!
George Cassidy: When empty heads collide! That was priceless!
Truth Waters: Vince Jones just threw the referee at Teresa Tomas while she was midair for her Flying Squirrel! What a sickening thud as both their heads smack against each other! Just sickening!
With both Teresa Tomas and referee Richie Travis out cold in the ring, “The One Man Dynasty,” Vince Jones, rolls out of the ring and picks up his trusty Louisville Slugger and rolls back into the ring. He waits patiently, baseball bat in hand, as Teresa slowly comes to after smacking her head against the referee’s head. A few seconds later, she’s on her feet, trying to get her equilibrium back. As she turns to face Jones, he swings his baseball bat at her head, striking her in the temple! Teresa falls to the mat like a ton of bricks.
George Cassidy: YES! Vince Jones took Teresa’s head off with his trusty Louisville Slugger!
Truth Waters: Dammit! He’s gonna pick up the win after hitting Teresa Tomas in the head with his goddamn baseball bat! Not this way!
Disposing of the evidence, Vince Jones covers Teresa Tomas, hooking both legs and pulling back in mock attempt to keep her from kicking out. Since referee Richie Travis is out cold, referee Lars Larsson runs into ring...
ONE!
“Thug Luv” by 2Pac and Bone Thugs ‘n Harmony plays on the PA system as ring announcer James Brunt announces the winner.
James Brunt: The winner and new holder of the Countdown Trophy... “THE VIOLENCE” VINCE JONES!
George Cassidy: WOO-HOO! Vince Jones is going on both tours with the Countdown Trophy in tow!
Truth Waters: I can’t believe that Vince Jones had to resort to cheating, to beat Tomas by cheating no less! Even under Sudden Death! There’s no justice around here! Anyway, coming up, the now two-time Alliance champions, the Furious Fists of God, take on the unlikely duo of Captain Suleimon and “The Bull” Jack Murphy. Stick around, there’s more action when we return!
A Bridge I Have To Burn
FEATURING: ELLIS NASH, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, ADAM DICK
AUTHORS: JOE SCHMIDT AND LIA
With Ellis Nash pacing around his office off on a whine-heavy rant, Pearl covertly snacks on a Snickers bar.
Ellis Nash: And it's not like I really tapped out or anything!
Between chews of delectable caramel, Pearl says:
Pearl: You didn't?
Ellis Nash: No! My Parkinson's just got in the way!
Dull statement.
Pearl: Parkinson's.
Ellis Nash: Yes, Parkinson's! So really, I wasn't tapping out! It was all Parkinson's fault! And this is why I demand a rematch, because it was Parkinson's fault and Iwantmytitleback!
Foot stomp.
Door slam.
Adam Dick: Pearl!
Pearl: Adam?
Ellis Nash: Adam!?
Adam Dick: ELLIS?!
Ellis Nash: Pearl!?
Pearl: What!?
Adam Dick: ADAM!
Pearl: Please, be quiet! You'll ruin my Snickers bar.
Adam Dick: You don't have a Snickers bar!
Proud of the fact that he has this delicious candy, and wanting to prove Adam wrong, Pearl holds the three-quarters-eaten Snickers bar up high. Adam quickly snatches it from his hand unexpectedly.
Adam Dick: Muahahah! Doth be mine own!
And like a rodent, Adam devours the candy with complete disregard of the wrapper.
Ellis winces a bit and clutches at her stomach. "One more reason," she thinks to herself.
Meanwhile Pearl looks on, left eye twitching ferociously as Adam swallows the last of his baby Snickers.
Pearl: You... bastard.
Adam smiles in response, teeth obscured behind layers of chocolate and caramel. Pearl wrinkles his face in disgust.
Pearl: What do you want?
Adam Dick: Want? Like you'll fucking give me anything I want, you BUBBLE OF CUM. I don't want a god damned thing from you, or from AWC. I've just come to say my peace.
Ellis Nash: Say your peace?
Like most words that come out of Adam's mouth, this surprises Ellis. Only in that bad way.
And as if in slow motion, Ellis' palm drops from her stomach. Her eyes narrow in bemusement.
He was serious.
Ellis Nash: What are you talking about? Say your peace? Adam..
He didn't really plan for her to be there, so his words get a bit choked up. But you know how these wrestling things go. Chalk-full of drama, non-stop action!
The King gathers his thoughts, and reaffirms the crown on his head and TA championship around his waist.
Adam Dick: Yes, Say My Peace! FOR A GOD DAMNED YEAR I've busted my ass for you, Pearl! A fucking YEAR! And you BETRAY ME by BANISHING ME to fucking EUROPE!?! We're going to SERBIA, Pearl. FUCKING SERBIA. I hope you've got enough fucking money for a settlement after I SUE YOUR ASS for making my testicles turn to raisins!
There's no way he can be serious.
Adam Dick: That ruskie bitch has no idea what she's doing, you know she'll just fuck me over and I'll be forced to sabotage this little promotion you've got going, right? Of course you fucking know, you know everything! Like, that I'd get pissed off if you put MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND on the opposite side as me... WITH MY FUCKING PROTEGE!
While Adam finally recollects his breath, a speechless Pearl attempts to collect a coherent response.
But an unusually placid Ellis beats him to it, figuring that at least one of them has to have a cool head or they'd both get kicked the fuck out.
Ellis Nash: Adam, calm down. We'll work it out, okay? Don't act like this.
Adam Dick: Act like what? Like a man, for a change?! I have rights, Pearl. FUCKING RIGHTS! And you're spitting on them! Making me fight my girlfriend, and your stupid trick in making me fight Wade! You just couldn't stand to see that you were fucked by the Unfuckables once again, so you made us fight?! Well fuck you, Pearl! Because I'm done fighting.
The championship belt slings off of his shoulder and onto the ground.
Adam Dick: Fucking take it, that isn't the real thing anyways. THIS IS.
He removes the Crown from his head and holds it high.
Adam Dick: THIS is your precious Transatlantic championship. Well, WAS your Championship, but now it's MY Crown. And it will never leave my head, Pearl. Never again will you have the chance to screw me.
Pearl: Adam, there are arrangements that can be made.
Adam Dick: I don't want a fucking arrangement, Pearl!
Pearl: Well what can---
Adam Dick: THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO, PEARL. Fuck this place and fuck you for not being able to take it lying down. I FUCKING QUIT.
Just like that. With a twist of heels, Adam Dick is gone.
And it takes a fraction of a second for Ellis Nash to run to the door.
Ellis Nash: ADAM!
And half of a fraction of a second for Pearl to speak.
Pearl: Ellis. Wait.
His tone is… different. Different enough for Ellis to forget about Adam for a second.
She turns around.
Pearl: Sit.
Pause.
Pearl: We need to talk.
Leap Of Faith III
FEATURING: ???, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, SASHA VOLKYEVA, MILO STINSON, TOMAS HARGROVE, RECEPTIONIST
AUTHOR: LARA C.
The car park lay shrouded in darkness, bar the small luminescent light bulb that flickered energetically over the east exit, alerting him to the presence of a certain person, but his gaze was no longer fixed on the light bulb. His eyes followed that of a luxury car, parked discretely next to a pillar – the woman in the car was all too familiar, the pale white skin, red lipstick and the silk red dress – he had waited long enough for her to return.
What do you mean hard to find, he’s everywhere!
The small bug he’d planted on the car was proving its worth, although the odd interference proved annoying, he had all he needed, smiling at her thoughts. He was sure his plan was working well; he now waited for the next piece of the puzzle.
Is he here or not?
What do think? He thought to himself looking toward the documents splayed across the passenger seat. Pulling out his mobile he looked through his phone book and found the number he was looking for.
RING
RING
RING
…
“Yeah, I believe you might find your answers in the car park.”
…
“Black Chrysler Sebring Sedan...”
CLICK
The phone call had ended - easy informant and the plan would work out without a glitch, simplicity being the key. He waited once more in the shadows of his rental car, looking toward the lady in the car, her focus now turned to a small PDA.
The east exit door opened and the very man he had been expecting emerged with a familiar face. The lady in the car looked toward him, a smirk across her face, ready for a confrontation.
Pearl’s gaze drew across the emptied car park toward the Black Chrysler, it was then he saw her, the all too familiar face. Sasha emerged, her legs and high heels glistening against the harsh bulb now turned on above the car.
Sasha Volkyeva: It seems you found me…
Pearl: You aren’t what I was looking for.
Sasha Volkyeva: Aww, I’m hurt…
Sasha sniggered toward Pearl, her sarcasm added a harsh tone to her accent. Milo emerged from behind the steering wheel and looked toward the entourage with a welling in his throat. He hadn’t planned on there being much company, other than Tomas Hargrove.
Milo Stinson: Perhaps we should leave, Ms. Volkyeva.
Sasha Volkyeva: Oh, please. I doubt they’ll escort me out of the building…
Her confidence excelled passed Pearl’s suspicions as Tomas came running up from behind, out of breath, holding a jotter with the words FRESH!WEST splayed on the back of it. Sasha gazed toward it and a smile brimmed across her face.
Sasha Volkyeva: Sorry to disappoint, David.
Pearl: Oh, you haven’t.
Pearl turned to his guards, a smirk brimmed across his face.
Pearl: Please escort Ms. Volkyeva and her assistant off the property…
In the distance, a shadow emerged, opening the door and entering the building, unbeknown to the entourage inside the parking lot. The chaos erupting as Sasha cursed blindly toward Pearl who now stood smug and confident.
Inside the building, the man continued with a firm pace, holding the documents that been splayed so carelessly on the passenger seat in a neat bundle now as he approached the front desk.
The receptionist answered the phone call, but her gaze momentarily shifted to the shadow now approaching her from the car park exit. She blinked her eyes, confusing being the first thought that crossed her mind, next was wonder as to how…
I need these documents signed…
The man spoke, his back and face hidden from the camera as he placed them carefully onto the counter, her mouth gaping open in awe, her hands clumsily dropping the phone off of its recharge stand, she stood up and looked at the bundle of documents.
Receptionist: Mr. Harber is busy at the moment.
“Actually, he’s in the car park,” the man replied, casually standing against the counter now he pointed to the phone. The receptionist nodded and pressed the intercom announcement system.
Receptionist: Mr. Harber to the front desk… I think you’ll be pleased…
She smiled and returned to her work, her hands still shaking with the initial shock and awe at the man before her.
Back in the car park the receptionist’s voice cut the tension as Pearl turned to the east exit, noticing it was ajar. Sasha followed his gaze and gripping Milo’s arm they began a quick paced walk toward the exit. Pearl nodded, a smile across his face, he and his entourage moved toward the exit. All of them forcibly crossed through the doors into the hall, their eyes freezing a moment on the figure before them.
“I believe you were looking for me…”
Pearl’s eyes remained fixed, shock and bewilderment were the feelings he felt. Sasha Volkyeva was quick off the bat to realise the situation, her cold gaze turning to the man.
Sasha Volkyeva: You’ve been hard to track down, Mr. Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle: I thought I was “everywhere”!
The words he spoke with a calm demeanour crossed through the air towards Sasha, who recoiled embarrassed by her use of words, realising perhaps Milo had left the window open or Pierce had heard from another place. She moved forward, offering a hand to shake, but Pearl was prevalent in his approach.
Pearl: Pierce, it’s good to see you again!
Pierce just coughed and turned around once more to the receptionist, collecting his documents, he turned to Pearl.
Pierce Lavelle: You need to sign these…
Paranoia hit Sasha as she watched Pierce hand the documents to Pearl, her eyes remaining fixed on the writing that was in bold print of the page – RETURN TO ACTIVE DUTY. She was unsure as to what she could do next, but when Pearl turned the next page, relief crossed through her.
Sasha Volkyeva: Mr. Lavelle, I have a business proposition for you.
Pearl: Not so fast Sasha. You are on my show now… Pierce, I would like to speak with you in my office.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m sure anything you have to say can be said in front of Fresh!east’s Entertainment Manager too…
Sasha smiled and began to walk past Pierce towards Pearl’s office; Pierce’s eyes remained on the path ahead of him, ignoring the protests made by Pearl – perturbed by the immediacy of Pierce’s arrival and his choice to talk in front of Sasha Volkyeva. I hope he knows what he’s doing Pearl thought, leaving Milo and Tomas outside as he shut the door.
Coffee And Cigarettes Minus The Coffee And Technically The Cigarettes As Well
FEATURING: GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY, ELLIS NASH
AUTHORS: JOSH K. AND LIA
Garbage Bag Johnny is sitting on top of a bean bag chair made out of a garbage bag full of packing peanuts in his locker room. A muted TV flashes commercials while a CD player sitting on the floor in the corner is playing some Mars Volta. Garbage Bag Johnny is trying unsuccessfully to roll a joint over a pile of weed on a paper towel. Rolling a tight joint is something GBJ has surprisingly never mastered, and after his frustrated near finished project proves to be too loose, he hears a knock at the door.
Garbage Bag Johnny: It’s open.
The door opens with a squeal. Tired and beyond irritated, Ellis Nash bounds through and closes the door behind her.
Ellis Nash: Hey, Garbage Bag. Adam's being an asshole.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I hate to break it to you, Ellis, but isn’t that just how Adam is? Hey, you want a spot on the bag?
(Oh fuck, they’re talking. This ruins some of the main event commentary -Ed.)
Garbage Bag moves over to one edge of the Hefty bag full of packing peanuts, some more peanuts spill out on the floor, but GBJ’s side sinks while the free side bulges up due to some law of packing peanut osmosis or some shit.
So Ellis slowly takes a seat beside the Garbage Bag, somewhat restoring homestasis to the osmotic balance but not really. She shifts around for a little before finally settling, folding a leg beneath the other.
Ellis Nash: I think there's a peanut in my ass.
Garbage Bag Johnny: You know, packing peanuts are edible. I learned it in science class back in the day.
Garbage Bag Johnny hammers his point home by picking one off the floor and eating it. With some visible difficulty, Garbage Bag swallows the packing peanut.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Feel free to have as many as you like. I got a whole garbage bag full of them around here somewhere.
Ellis, mildly revolted, chooses to ignore Garbage's offer. She shifts again, peanuts rattling beneath her.
Ellis Nash: Have you heard? About Adam?
Garbage Bag finally frustrated with the joint, rips it in half, letting the marijuana fall back into the pile. He then pulls a bowl from his pocket and scoops some weed into it from the pile. He lights the greens and exhales a mighty cloud of smoke.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Heard what about Adam?
Garbage Bag offers the bowl and lighter towards Ellis.
Ellis corners the bowl and sucks in smoke. Then, she purses her lips and expels through a sigh.
Ellis Nash: He's quitting.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Quitting? Quitting what? Smoking?
Ellis gives him the patented yeah fucking right look.
Ellis Nash: AWC.
Garbage Bag Johnny fires back the oh shit, what are we going to do now look… the one he hopes isn’t patented so he doesn’t get sued.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Why would he do that? He’s the King of AWC. You don’t quit if you’re the king. You quit if you’re a short order cook at KFC, but not if you’re the King of AWC.
Ellis Nash: Because he's fucking Adam stupidass Dick, and whenever he doesn't get his way he acts like a whiny fucking pariah.
With this and a sudden influx of feelings, Ellis passes the bowl back to Garbage Bag.
Ellis Nash: And you know what? If he wants to quit, fine. Whatever. He can quit. But he isn't proving anything. The world isn't going to end. We're going to be fine without him.
Pause.
Ellis Nash: I think.
Garbage Bag Johnny takes a contemplative hit of weed, watching the smoke form dissipating patterns in the rays of artificial light shining down over the room.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Yeah, we’ll be alright.
Garbage Bag hands the bowl back to Ellis.
Garbage Bag Johnny: It should be a piece of cake as long as one of us wins tonight. Then we coast to Coast To Coast with easy matches.
Ellis inhales another round, shrugging.
Ellis Nash: Yeah, I guess. I mean, tonight should be easy enough. It'll just be weird without him.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Yeah, I guess there’s that.
Garbage Bag and Ellis Nash just kind of stare forward, the TV still flashing in the background. The two kind of sigh in an almost coordinated way that makes the moment feel even more uncoordinated. Ellis hands the bowl back to Johnny, who works on squeezing out one last hit from the near cashed piece.
Ellis Nash: I think I’m going to get going. Thanks for the weed.
Garbage Bag Johnny nods, unable to speak from holding in the final hit as long as he can while Ellis exits the room. GBJ sinks back into the garbage bag full of packing peanuts.
Garbage Bag Johnny: If I win that match, I think I’ll put that son of a bitch Alex Strider back in his place. Then we’ll really see who is the greatest Zero To Hero champion of all time.
Leap Of Faith IV
FEATURING: SASHA VOLKYEVA, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHOR: LARA C.
“Please, David, we both know which one offers the better chance of a career…”
“Ms. Volkyeva, enough of this condescending tone.”
Their voice’s echoed through the small, yet lavish and almost spacious office. Pierce sat crouched in the chair, his eyes focused on his legs, his hands patting on his knees creating a beat as he watched the debate unfold, each leaving a banter to offer the others rebuttal.
“There is a lot to say David…”
Pearl had enough as he too now slumped into his leather chair, unbuttoning his top button as he felt restricted, his breathing heavy from the back and forth battle he was fighting with Sasha. His eyes every so often tracing back to Pierce – he sat on the sofa, calm and silent, beating his hands on his legs to a simple, yet pleasing beat, with the odd glance toward them.
Sasha now stood; taking the last of the energy she had and turned it toward the very man in question, her eyes astounded by the image before. He was no longer the same man she had met last year, his image had changed, no longer the innocent young man…
Pearl: Very well, Ms. Volkyeva, why don’t you start…
Pierce Lavelle: Best advice I’ve heard all night.
His reply was shocking to Pearl who slid Pierce’s documents across the table, now signed. He only hoped that Pierce could forget the betrayal and look toward the future, he knew he had apologies to make and wounds to heal, but his work would go unannounced while Sasha remained in the room.
Sasha Volkyeva: My case lies in these documents…
Her words were clear as she slid the folder into Pierce’s grasp. In bold writing “FRESH!EAST” stared at him with electric, yet continental colours, his appeal drawn to the roster list that lay splayed on the first page.
Pearl: Very well, Ms. Volkyeva. Now may I have a word in private with Pierce?
Sasha turned her head towards Pearl, her hair flowing behind her as she had removed the bun, a more dominating appearance sweeping over her as her blonde hair flew in locks around her shoulders. She nodded in approval and headed for the door.
Sasha Volkyeva: I will be waiting Pierce…
The door shut behind her with a steady clasp of its lock and key, Pearl now relaxing slightly without her around, pulled out a bottle of water and looked toward Pierce, now eyes deep in paper work.
Pearl: I assume the court case went well.
Pierce Lavelle: As can be expected, Dick signed an affidavit in return for my help with a slight problem of his.
Pearl: Dead body in the trunk! That doesn’t happen every day.
Pierce Lavelle: Life’s full of surprises…
Pierce looked toward him as the words rolled off his tongue, then once again, he returned to Sasha’s document.
Okay, I deserve that… Pearl thought as he let the words linger momentarily in the air before speaking. Allowing his brain to process a speech, that wouldn’t sound pleading, rather apologetic and hopefully forgiveness of sorts, but with increasing time and the distance now established, he felt his plan demolishing.
Pearl: I wanted to... to apologise for my actions.
Pearl looked toward Pierce, behind the faded blue eyes, Pearl still saw the warmth, but it remained clouded. He no longer felt the trust or the warmth he knew he once had and guilt laid within his emotions, lingering, relentless in his demise.
Pierce Lavelle: No need, it’s in the past.
Pearl: I am sorry, Pierce.
Pierce Lavelle: Mr. Harber, this is a business proposition, is it not?
Strike two… Pearl thought, slumping back into his chair as he pulled out his own documents and options for Pierce.
The “FRESH!WEST” folder now lay on Pierce’s left knee, his eyes gazing toward the roster and the entails of returning to Pearl’s show, yet his eyes lingered over a name that had yet been established. His mind wandered to the one folder he could not leave.
The door opened and Sasha stood proudly in the doorway, her eyes gleaming against the light bulbs gentle rays. Pearl sniggered and looked out the window toward the night sky, his first show was turning out to be a delight, and he only hoped this last detail would turn out well.
Sasha Volkyeva: Man talk over?
Pearl: Yes, I believe everything’s in order.
Pierce Lavelle took a pen and circled two names on a roster page, his mind focused on both. He then flicked through the document he really needed.
SIGNATURE
Pierce Lavelle
Both Pearl and Sasha jumped into action, both unsure which he had signed; Sasha’s heart raced as she gripped the jotters, her hands lingering over the words that spiked anger in her blood – “FRESH!WEST” – Pearl saw the jotter and smiled.
Pearl: Tough luck Sasha…
Pearl turned to Pierce, but no smile was across his face. Pierce just stood, a glint in his eyes, his arms folded. Sasha bemused by Pierce’s expressing, flicked through the sheets until the realisation hit her.
Sasha Volkyeva: Touché…
Pearl turned, his eyes wide with wonder.
Sasha Volkyeva: Didn’t read the fine print, did you David?!
Sasha turned the document over and there, staring at Pearl were two simple things.
“FRESH!EAST APPLICATION”
Pearl’s heart sank as he gazed at his own jotter, void of any signature.
Pierce Lavelle: Nothing personal, Mr. Harber, but I have unfinished business with two people on the East show. Luck of the draw, right!
Pierce patted Pearl on the back and ignored Sasha’s hand to shake, he despised the woman, but couldn’t face to be around Pearl at this moment in his life. Besides, there were more important people in the world; the initials “S.K.” sprang to mind. Now gazing at the long corridor back toward the car park, he took a long sigh and listened to the cheers from the fans around the ring, all in awe and wonder, but understanding of his choice.
Truth Waters: Did we hear that right, Cassidy? An affidavit? A court case? They’ve kept this all very quiet!
George Cassidy: Quiet indeed, Truth! But Pierce Lavelle has signed for Fresh!east!
Truth Waters: And if I understood that correctly, his ban has been... overturned?! We’ll have to wait for official confirmation on that, but right now I am insanely jealous of our compatriots Dave Kern and Jeff Marx, who will seemingly have AWC Legend, PIERCE LAVELLE on their show!
FFGod vs Suleimon / Murphy
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHORS: RYAN KEANEY AND ADAM ST. OURS
Truth Waters: As I look up and down the card we only have two matches left this evening, folks.
George Cassidy: Up next is the Martin brothers in action for the first time since their tag team title win at Divide And Conquer.
The arena goes dark. On the screen, a face that is half Liam and half Tim shows up with the words "The Furious Fists of God" coming up in Bold Letters. Then, the pyrotechnics explode at the top of the ramp as the song "Hallelujah" hits.
Hallelujahhhhhh...
Hallelujahhhhhh...
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match. Introducing first, at a combined weight of just about 600 pounds even, the Atlantic Wrestling Club’s Alliance champions, the Furious Fists of GOD!!!
Out of the smoke and fire are Tim and Liam Martin, kneeling there in prayer. Above them video of the two executing moves against opponents are flashing by. Once they finish prayer, they walk down the ramp, side by side, to the ring. They climb in there and jump on the turnbuckles to a combination of church music and boos.
George Cassidy: These two men are sitting on top of the tag world right now, even though it doesn’t seem there is much competition…
Truth Waters: What you mean? We have the New Black, Singleton & Slade, Pleasure & Pain, and who can forget the Legion?
George Cassidy: Dumb ass, Singleton & Slade didn’t even make it two weeks here. And if those are the biggest competition this division is lacking a little bit. Somebody needs to step it up…
Truth Waters: Always ruining my parade.
The first couple riff of the start of the “Turkish March” by Mozart starts to come on over the P.A. system. Before anyone emerges James Brunt comes over the loud speaker.
James Brunt: Entering first for the second duo, weighing in at 198 pounds, standing just a hair over 5’10”, hailing from Istanbul, Turkey… Captain Suleimon!!!
Out came the man of Turkish descent with a lot of energy and makes his way to the ring where the Liam brothers are no longer standing.
Truth Waters: We have the first of our mixed match tag team that is in action tonight, Suleimon.
George Cassidy: Captain Suleimon and his partner Jack Murphy are pairing together for the first time tonight, and they have a hell of a challenge in front of them with the Furious Fists of God.
James Brunt: Now making his way to the ring pairing with Captain Suleimon, weighing in at 275 lbs. and standing a good 6’5” tall… Jack Murphy!!!
The beginning riffs from the song “Burn” which is being performed by Throwdown are heard. Making his way through the entrance ramp is the well built Jack Murphy, he does not seem to be wasting anytime, by running down the ramp way and sliding into the ring and attacking the first Martin brother he can see.
Truth Waters: Murphy just attacked Tim from behind.
Referee Joseph Reid summoned the bell as Tim Martin was bundled forward by the forearm of Jack Murphy. The former AWC Livewire Champion followed Tim across the ring before knocking in the head with another right arm. Liam Martin and Captain Suleimon were forced to the ring apron by the glare of the referee as Jack Murphy whipped Tim across the ring.
Truth Waters: Joseph Reid just scared those wrestlers into remaining outside the ring!
George Cassidy: Liam Martin isn’t scared! He simply knows that these two wannabes will be no match for The Furious Fists!
Tim Martin returned off the ropes into the waiting arms of Jack Murphy who planted him to the mat with a flapjack. The 300 lbs weight of Tim Martin crushed to the ring floor as Jack Murphy followed him down driving his left knee into the Fists’ shoulder, before following it up with a right knee.
Truth Waters: Those knee strikes look very powerful from Jack Murphy!
George Cassidy: Disgusting! That kind of move should only be allowed in a caged ring! Disqualify Jack Murphy!
Pulling the eldest Martin brother to his feet, Jack pushed him away before drawing back and chopping the complete crap out of his chest.
Truth Waters: OH MY GAWD!! WHAT AN IMPACT!!!
George Cassidy: Yawn… It was only a chop to the chest.
The noise of the slap did in fact echo around the ringside as Jack Murphy drew back a second time and thumped Tim Martin in the chest, knocking the Alliance Champion into the ropes, completely off-balance.
Refusing to let him settle, Jack grabbed Tim’s hair pulling into the centre of the ring. The Furious Fist duly obliged, evident that if he didn’t he’d have two fist-shaped bald patches on his head. Tim tried to wriggle out of Jack’s clutches by Murphy threw his knee into Tim’s upper body; causing him enough pain to give Jack a couple of seconds.
Murphy threw Tim Martin towards the corner...
SLAP!!
…but quickly realised his mistake.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy just threw Tim Martin into his own corner! And Liam Martin has tagged in! What a mistake by Jack Murphy!
George Cassidy: That was no mistake! That is God! God is on their side!
Tim Martin sat in the corner, catching his breath as Liam Martin stepped through the ropes, ready for war… or well at least a wrestling match.
Truth Waters: Jack looks worried!
George Cassidy: I would be too! He surely doesn’t think he can come out on top of God’s Team!
Jack Murphy took a step back from the FFGod corner as Liam Martin stepped into the ring. The two legal competitors were locked in an unrelenting stare as Jack Murphy felt a tap on his shoulder.
Truth Waters: Captain Suleimon has tagged himself in!
Spinning around, Jack Murphy gave his tag-team partner evil eyes as he scaled the top rope. Suleimon simply shrugged at Murphy as he turned his attention to the quickly approaching Martin brother.
Truth Waters: There is a clear example of the lack of communication between this make-shift tag-team.
Sensing a loss of concentration is his opponents, Liam Martin had started to run at the Murphy/Suleimon discussion that was occurring as he did, he noticed a mass of colour flying towards him; Liam Martin and Captain Suleimon met and it did not go well for the Turkish wrestler. His 198lb frame was clutched into the waiting arms of the Boston native and simply ran into the turnbuckle.
Truth Waters: That had to hurt!
Noticing the on-coming impact Jack Murphy had scrambled from the ring and looked up from the arena floor as Liam Martin drove Captain Suleimon’s back into the turnbuckle with awe-inspiring power.
George Cassidy: That is truly brilliant!
Suleimon was heard to call out in pain by those in the first few rows of the arena, just as Liam Martin backed up and watched the Pride of the Ottoman Empire slump to his knees.
BAM!!!
Truth Waters: Liam Martin just crushed Suleimon into the turnbuckle with his knee!
The younger Martin brother seemed in no mood to hand around as his right knee and the second rope crushed the right shoulder of Captain Suleimon. Backing up at the referee’s command, Liam Martin brought his opponent with him dragging him into the centre of the ring, before whipping him into the ropes.
Truth Waters: Liam Martin looks in a dominant position against the much smaller opponent!
As THE Captain rebounded towards his opponent, Liam Martin tossed him into his arms and began to bench press Captain Suleimon in the centre of the ring.
Truth Waters: What strength by Liam Martin!
George Cassidy: That is the power of God! Right there in that very ring! It’s such a pity that these AWC miscreants don’t understand this…
George was of course referring to the AWC fans that were showing their disgust with Liam Martin who stood in the centre of the ring, benching pressing his lighter opponent. Suleimon was an easy lift as Liam pushed out to his full arm length and then brought him back down.
Truth Waters: This is truly amazing!
George Cassidy: We have another believer!
However, Liam’s cockiness got the better of him…
SMACK!!!
Wildly swinging his arms, Captain Suleimon managed to land a punch on Liam’s face, knocking the Alliance Champion off-guard and off-balance. Staggering backwards he began to drop Suleimon but as he did, the Turkish superstar managed to kick out his legs, front dropkicking Liam Martin as the two men fell to the floor.
Truth Waters: Captain Suleimon has taken advantage of Liam Martin’s cockiness!
George Cassidy: It’s not cockiness! It’s respect of the Lord! He is offering up Suleimon as a sacrifice!
Truth Waters: Well it seems Captain Suleimon won’t go down without a fight…
George Cassidy: You could say that about my wife as well!
Truth Waters: You’re not married!
George Cassidy: I know but I’ve always wanted to say that joke!
Captain Suleimon was the first man to his feet as the whole being held in the air thing gave him a chance to catch his breath after the turnbuckle crushing. CS watched Liam Martin rest on all fours across the ring. The Turkish superstar kept him in his sight as he stepped closer to the ropes and closer to Martin. Finally the current Alliance Champion grabbed at the top rope and began to stand up. He held his face, from the impact of the kick as Suleimon sprang into action.
Truth Waters: OH MY GOD!!!
In what can only be described as breath-taking, Captain Suleimon ran against the ropes and sprang off the second rope into a moonsault over Liam Martin before pulling him down to the mat with a staggeringly rough DDT.
SUL-EI-MON!! SUL-EI-MON!! SUL-EI-MON!!
George Cassidy: Dirty Turk! Doesn’t he know that God will conquer all!
As the crowd showed their appreciation of his move, Captain Suleimon lay next to Liam for a second catching his breath before rolling away to tag in Jack Murphy. Murphy stepped through, slamming into his tag team partner, clearly unable to forgive the earlier misunderstanding to be greeted with Liam Martin pulling himself to his feet.
Truth Waters: Suleimon has left things very nicely for Jack Murphy!
George Cassidy: That is irrelevant! They are facing…
Truth Waters: GOD!! Yes, I get it! How many freaking times do you go on about it?
George whimpered as Jack Murphy whipped Liam Martin across the ring and waiting as he returned.
WHACK!!!
Murphy had bent over, ready to toss Liam over his shoulder but The Furious Fist of God managed to stop his momentum and instead kick Jack in the face. Murphy stumbled backwards holding his face and trying to regain his balance as he was bundled over the top rope by a Liam Martin who tumbled out with him.
Truth Waters: Liam Martin just clotheslined Jack Murphy over the top rope!
George Cassidy: And that’s the cue for Tim to get involved.
As George spoke, Tim Martin dropped off the ring apron and paced to where his brother was lying. Picking Liam up, Tim then proceeded to help his brother with Jack Murphy.
The duo grabbed the former Transatlantic Champion and pulled him to his feet. As quickly as Jack on his feet, he was back down again as grabbing one arm each they whipped Murphy into the steel steps, causing him to somersault over them it was done with such power.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy was heading for those steel steps with such pace that he somersaulted over them!
George Cassidy: That’s why these guys are Alliance Champions!
As Jack Murphy lay unresponsive, the Martin brothers turned their attention to Captain Suleimon and just in the nick of time. Perched on the top rope, CS leapt into the air with a mammoth cross-body.
Truth Waters: What a catch by The Martins!
BAM!!!
Instead of taking out the AWC Alliance Champion, Captain Suleimon was caught by both men and then threw into the barricade, abdomen first.
George Cassidy: The Furious Fists of God are looking really impressive here!
Truth Waters: It’s an in-experienced team George! Take that for what it’s worth!
Liam Martin scrambled into the ring as Tim Martin retrieved their legal opponent, Jack Murphy. Rolling Jack into the ring, Tim followed him, dragging to his feet and the rest is pretty elementary.
FURIOUS FIST!!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy is out cold after that enraged punch from Liam Martin!
1…
Tim Martin celebrated with on eye on Captain Suleimon who lay outside the ring.
George Cassidy: God prevails!
2…
Liam Martin even possessed a smirk as he crouched over Murphy’s body.
3!!!
Truth Waters: They’ve done it! The Furious Fists have won against an in-experienced tag team!
Liam and Tim Martin were handed their Alliance Belts as Captain Suleimon began to stir on the outside of the ring.
James Brunt: The winners… the AWC Alliance champions… THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!!!
George Cassidy: With the help of God!
"Hallelujah" was the song of choice as Tim and Liam Martin celebrated their win and the cameras faded out.
A Violent Ultimatum
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, VINCE JONES
AUTHOR: JAY
The camera fades into the office of David “Pearl” Harber where he is seen sitting at his neatly arranged desk looking over some paperwork. All of a sudden the door bursts open and 'The Violence' Vince Jones steps inside with a scowl across his face. Pearl glances up from his paperwork while Vince Jones just glares back at him.
Pearl: Haven't you heard of knocking?
Vince Jones steps forward and slams his Louisville Slugger bat on the desktop of Pearl and leans forward.
Vince Jones: So, yo punk ass think this a fuckin' joke or somethin', huh? Is that it?
Pearl: (in confusion) What on Earth are you talking about? What joke?
Vince stands tall, folds his massive arms across his chest and begins nodding his head.
Vince Jones: Oh, you know what the hell V. Jones is talkin' 'bout here!
Pearl: (raises an eyebrow, still confused) No?
Vince Jones: You know damn well that V. Jones got beef with that bitch made, Shawn Harris! So, why the fuck is V. Jones and Shawn Harris sittin' on opposite sides of the water, huh?
Pearl: Well, I...
Vince Jones takes a giant swing and swipes the desk lamp and the whole she-bang off of his desktop in fury.
Vince Jones: SHUT THE HELL UP!!
Pearl: Whoa, whoa, whoa! Big man, calm down!!
Vince reaches forward and pins Harber against his chair with his Louisville Slugger bat jammed square against his throat. Pearl begins gasping for air.
Vince Jones: Nah, you calm the fuck down! Now you listen up and you listen good, boss man! Yo logic is illogical to V. Jones right now so quit the bitchin' and fuck yo excuses! You and Sasha got V. Jones head spinnin' right now with all this East Tour and West Tour shit! V don't like it when his head's spinnin' over shit he don't feel he oughta have to even be thinkin' about! That ain't cool! That really pisses V off! And you should know the deal by now! V don't like to be pissed off! (gets in the face of Pearl and points a finger at him) Do you like The Violence when he's fuckin' pissed off, Pearl!?!?
Pearl quickly shakes his head no
Vince Jones:V don't give a fuck what you gotta do; but, you gonna fix all this shit one way or another, ASAP! V don't give a damn if he on the Westside or if he sittin' on the Eastside of the Atlantic V. Jones will be gettin' his hands on that bitch made, Shawn Harris and you gonna make that shit as easy and convenient for V. Jones as possible! No if ands or buts about that shit! We got an understanding here, huh?
Pearl nods his head as he continues gasping for air and is now turning beet red.
Vince Jones: Good! So, you pull a trade, pull some strings, whateva! But, that shit better happen one way or another, boss man! That shit betta happen with the quickness! It’s in you and that bitch Sasha's best interest!
Pearl gives Vince a thumbs up. Vince grins and nods his head in approval.
Vince Jones: Thought we'd agree! The Violence out! Holla back, bitch!
Vince releases Pearl and Pearl takes in a large gulp of air and just stares back at Vince with a wide-eyed look of shock as he Vince exits his office and the camera fades to black.
The Greatest Day Of The Year
FEATURING: THE EQUALIZER
AUTHOR: THE EQUALIZER
The view is suddenly replaced with a large American flag covering the view. Slowly, the camera pans out, revealing more details: plaster-cast statues of a donkey on the left side of the huge flag banderoll, and a statue of an elephant on the right. In between the animals there's a slight raised pedestal, decorated with some nice red-white-n-blue-ribbons. On the pedestal stands a man, a bit over six feet in height, back straight with power and pride. His head is covered by a full-face mask bearing an Stars-and-Stripes-motiff, elbow pads modeled in the same vein and a nice pair of wrestling tights that have a pattern of... How about you just figure out what it is. He has an aura of apple pies and patriotism about him, as if it wasn't bloody obvious yet. Aside from the man, a small picnic table has been set up on the pedestal, with a glass and a bucket of ice carefully laid out on it. A bottle of some kind rests in the bucket, covered in dew and looking ready to be popped.
Man: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen! Now, I apologize for interrupting your regular programming, I really do, but it's just that tonight's a very, VERY special night for me and millions of people alike so I'd be darned if I let this wonderful occasion just pass by unnoticed.
The man adjusts his mask slightly and then repositions the glass on the table, apparently a bit nervous. He straightens back up, ready and beaming.
Man: But where are my manners? Do excuse me, it's been a very exciting day after all, and I was not even supposed to be here tonight. The folks I've met have learned to call me The Equalizer: I hope that you folks out there will learn to do so as well. Just to set the record straight from the beginning, I won't be making many appearances like this on any regular basis, on account of touring the eastern side of Atlantic with the other side of AWC. But Mr. Harber was nice enough to let me go on tonight right here to showcase my little message, and that is...
The Equalizer leans over, pulls the bottle out of its tomb of ice to reveal it as some champagne and then expertly blows the cork off with his thumb, setting out a theatrical spurt of champagne on the floor.
The Equalizer: Happy 4th of July, people! Enjoy one of the greatest days in the year!
Laughing, Equalizer pours himself a glass of champagne and then lays the bottle down. With one hand, Equalizer picks his glass up while raising his other hand up to his forehead in a salute.
The Equalizer: Now, I apologize for not being able to share this one with all you in person, but I hope this will be enough. To our great country, and the great men and women who have made it possible with their hard work and determination!
The Equalizer relaxes out of his salute and then proceeds to toast the donkey on his left side. He repeats the process to his right, raising his glass slightly higher this time before he finally takes a drink and sets the glass down next to the bucket. His head picks up again, and his tone changes to a more serious one.
The Equalizer: Now, I am an American, and darn proud of showing it too. I know there are some people who'd think of this as committing a sin. Heck, there are people who think like that right here in America, right now. But I've always said, and my father used to say as well, that it's their FREEDOM to do so. FREEDOM to say what they want, where they want, when they want. And I ain't going to stop them from doing it. But I will darn well stand up for what I believe in, and for what this nation believes in, as is my freedom as well. We're a country and people founded on that principle of being able to work our own way in our lives and prosper doing so. That's the American Dream, as we call it, and I believe in it.
The Equalizer wipes something away from his eye and straightens his back even further if possible, looking ready to burst into song at any moment.
The Equalizer: I believe in the Dream, and I believe in this country, and I believe in the great people that reside here. And any man or woman who disagrees with me is invited to bring their point to the table. No holds barred and no words treasured, guns a-blazin'. And then The Equalizer will show you how he stands behind his words, ready to defend them like he was always taught to. I'll see you fine people on the AWC East Atlantic tour, so those who think they want to do some picking, I'll let you get your bones ready. Hopefully you'll be hungry too, because there'll be a grade-A pure American knuckle sandwich ready for you in the future.
The scene fades off with The Equalizer holding his hand over his heart and breaking into a horrible rendition of the "Stars And Stripes". Thankfully he doesn't get too far into it before the feed gets cut.
A Titillating Question
FEATURING: TRACY STANTON, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
The familiar locks of golden blonde hair fall into frame. Tracy walks into frame, but Chainz isn’t by her side. No Hyde to her Jekyll as she walks around alone, looking for something to do or someone familiar. She isn’t paying attention as she nearly runs smack into David “Pearl” Harber.
Pearl: Hey Tracy, how are you doing?
Tracy: Not so good, I have no one here. I’m all alone. Why couldn’t I have gone where Michael went?
Pearl looked down at the frail woman with a frown. It was a complete mystery to Pearl how a man like Michael Sloan could get such a girl who cared so deeply for him. And the girl had the best pair of tits he had ever seen, EVER. Without thinking he found himself staring at the girl like she was a piece of meat.
Tracy: Umm, David, you okay?
Pearl blinked himself out of his stare.
Pearl: Uhh yeah, fine. I’m sorry.
Tracy: What were you staring at?
Think fast Pearl, think fast.
Pearl: Your shirt, it looks very nice on you!
Well, it was true actually, course it would look much better lying on the floor. (Note, this is Mike writing the narrative… -Ed.)
Tracy: Thanks, Michael bought it for me.
Pearl: Listen Tracy, the matter of the fact is you’re here on the West side and he’s there on the East side. You might as well make the best of this situation and make the most of your time here. Maybe it’ll even work out better for the both of you…
Tracy: What am I gonna do, step in the ring and wrestle? I weigh 100 pounds Pearl, what am I gonna do flash em to death?
Not a bad idea… would boost ratings.
Pearl: No, I mean why not help around backstage. We only have one interviewer and Maddy’s not exactly the most professional of interviewers if you get my drift.
Tracy: Yeah I do, she’s a slut.
Pearl: So I was thinking of asking you to be a second interviewer, help out here and there and conduct some interviews.
Tracy: I guess I could do that.
Pearl: And maybe you could wear a nice little outfit…
Tracy’s smile fades.
Tracy: I’m not a piece of eye candy that you can parade in front of the people and hope for good ratings! Pearl: (laughing) I’m just kidding!
Tracy smiles as she realizes how silly she was acting, but then she caught Pearl’s eyes glued back to her heaving chest.
Tracy: Alright Pearl, I’ll do it, but under one condition.
Pearl: What’s that?
Tracy: Keep your eyes off my CHEST!
She slapped Pearl as he came to his senses.
Tracy: Pervert, you’re lucky Michael’s not here.
Tracy yelled as she walked away.
Pearl: Shit.
He was lucky Chainz wasn’t there or he’d have a fist down his throat. David Harber didn’t know what had gotten into him lately… still, he knew a lot more than most. And that scared him, just a little bit.
Oceanic Airways
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, BRUNO HAGUE
AUTHOR: ???
Truth Waters: We must go backstage; we’ve just heard that a frantic panic is happening!
The scene switches to backstage where the arena has become overrun by water, the water seems to be pouring out of one of the bathrooms, and Pearl has been forced to wade through inch high water, being dragged along by Bruno Hague.
Bruno Hague: I don’t know how this happened! No one has seen anything happen in this area all night, suddenly it’s flooded and the door is jammed.
Pearl: Oh I know how this happened, someone is screwing with us Bruno and I’m sick and tired of it. Open the fucking door!
Bruno uses all his might but is unable to open the door, in the end he decides to dive at it, as soon as the door is broken off of the hinges, Bruno and the door go flying at Pearl knocking him down, water then bursts out of the room causing even more flooding to the arena.
George Cassidy: What the hell just happened? It’s like a tidal wave just hit!
Truth Waters: Pearl and Bruno have been washed away!
The scene then shown is a paper plane, presumably because whoever made it didn’t know how to make a paper boat, floating out of the bathroom, letters “PWC” on the side of it, it then floats off screen.
O'Reilly vs GBJ vs Dash vs Nash
STIPULATION: BATTLE FOR INDEPENDENCE
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: Welcome to the AWC-West, where nothing is too far...
Truth Waters: We’re ready for our main event, the Battle For Independence!
George Cassidy: In which pins must be made beneath the stars and stripes. Talk about disrespectful – besmirching the great flag like that!
Truth Waters: If handled distastefully this match won’t do AWC’s image any favours, there’s no doubt there.
George Cassidy: More ammunition against Murphy’s gym, huh Truth?
Truth Waters: Heh, yeah. For viewers not in the know, AWC wrestler Jack Murphy has encountered some problems in trying to set up his own wrestling gym in his native Ireland over the past few weeks, thanks to choice portions of the industry’s not so savoury past being used against us all...
George Cassidy: Like our very own slut extraordinaire Aimz getting her butt out on Mount St. Hell’s in OSW!
Truth Waters: Cassidy. She was nearly raped! I think expressing our sympathies to Amy Campbell for that heinous event would be more appropriate.
George Cassidy: It’s all in the past...
Truth Waters: Yet remains the most notorious event of our time. Now y’all, a match featuring no Aimz and no Jack Murphy, and definitely no Corg, but nevertheless four of the top wrestlers on the Fresh!west roster: Ellis Nash, AgentDash, Mikey O’Reilly and the undefeated Garbage Bag Johnny.
George Cassidy: Ellis is gonna be determined to bounce back after Anton Assault captured the Frontier title from her at Divide And Conquer.
Truth Waters: Yeah, but can she outdo Garbage Bag Johnny, who is looking for twelve wins on the bounce? And let’s not forget AgentDash and Mikey O’---
George Cassidy: Oh I think we may as well, Truth. They’re competent enough but can O’Cliché and a CIA reject really compete with the two of THE top competitors of pro wrestling today, PERIOD? Nah.
The big screen shoots into life, but it’s not an entrance video; instead, the Stars and Stripes are shown and the fans rise to their feet in unison to salute in respectful silence the playing of the American national anthem.
Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
'Tis the star-spangled banner! Oh long may it wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more!
Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave:
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand
Between their loved home and the war's desolation!
Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!
Truth Waters: There it is, the Star-Spangled B--- Cassidy, are you OK?
George Cassidy: I... I just, it’s beau---
Truth Waters: Cassidy, are you crying?
George Cassidy: It brings just a tear to the eye---
Truth Waters: Cassidy, they’re rolling down your face. That’s real nice. Real patriotic of you. (under his breath) Pussy.
James Brunt: Ladies and gentlemen, THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER!
There is a roar from the crowd. Moments later, AWC’s three security teamers and a fourth unknown woman appear at the entrance-way, each holding aloft a US flag that flutters in an artificial breeze. Chants of ”U-S-A! U-S-A!” build as they move down to the ring in formation, and then up the ring steps.
Truth Waters: Here are Taz Yorke, Bruno Hague, Butch Radder and – who is that, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: USA... it’s so, so, beau---
Truth Waters: Never mind. They’re bringing the Stars and Stripes down to the ring and affixing them to the turnbuckles, providing a unique pro-American atmosphere for this match. I wonder how Mikey O’Reilly will feel about all this, being the sole non-US competitor in this match... though admittedly the Irishman has lived over here for some years.
With the flags now in place on the turnbuckles, the security team and the woman move back up the ramp and the chants slowly die away. James Brunt breaks the almost silence, his booming voice causing vibrations in the watchers’ very chests.
James Brunt: The following is the Battle For Independence four way match! In this match, all patriotic objects are legal weapons! To end the match, a competitor must be pinned beneath a US flag!
George Cassidy: Patriotic objects? What are they, then?
Truth Waters: That’s certainly open to debate. Garbage Bag Johnny could see a toasting fork as patriotic! Who knows?
Michael Ryan, refereeing tonight’s main event, steps into the ring as Aimee Allen’s “Oblivion” begins to play. Garnering some cheers along with the pockets of negative heat, Ellis Nash steps out onto the stage, not looking quite her usual vibrant self.
George Cassidy: Ellis is a little pale! Do you think---
Truth Waters: No, she doesn’t want a massage, Cassidy.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 126 pounds... ELLIS NASH!
Truth Waters: I barely need mention the weight advantage Ellis Nash will concede to her opponents tonight, but we’ve learnt over and over again that this lady more than makes up for that with her skilled strikes and quick footwork.
George Cassidy: Ellis had the most wins out of any AWC wrestler in the second half of our first AWC year!
Nash hops up the steps and through the ropes.
George Cassidy: Ellis seems a lot more popular with the fans without Adam Dick at her side...
Her music cuts; before the new song can begin Nash steps over to have a word in James Brunt’s ear.
Truth Waters: Nash is whispering something to James Brunt here...
Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” starts up.
George Cassidy: Huh?
And then he appears. The legend that is...
Truth Waters: FREDROCK~! He’s back! Pierce Lavelle and Mike Wade may be on the official Roll of Legends but this is the biggest AWC Legend of all! And what a reaction he’s getting!
James Brunt: Accompanying Ellis Nash for this match, from Bedrock... FREDROCK~!
FREDROCK~! speeds down to the ring like Kerry Ritter’s been told orange soda is waiting for him, diving in under the bottom rope and landing in an inelegant belly-flop on the canvas. No matter; Nash bends to help him up with a huge “Wahey!” grin on her face. FREDROCK~! returns the smile and envelops his favourite wrestler (apart, of course, from himself) in a massive bearhug. Nash tries to look as enthusiastic as possible while subtly trying to minimise the amount of contact between her tanned, elastic body and Fred’s sweaty, pasty, flabby one.
George Cassidy: What is he doing out here? What is he doing to her?!
Michael Ryan comes over to make a similar query; “One minute,” Ellis tells him, and steps back to draw a permanent marker out of her shorts.
Truth Waters: Is that a... a marker pen?
Ellis Nash: Hold still!
FREDROCK~! obliges as Nash whips the cap off and delicately writes on his head: “BORN IN THE USA”.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash appears to be inscribing something on FREDROCK~!’s forehead...
George Cassidy: He’s a patriotic object, Truth! Ellis is gonna use him as... as a weapon!
Eyes wide in surprise, Michael Ryan nods slowly as FREDROCK~! is presented to him by Ellis. Smiling sweetly, Nash turns to FREDROCK~! and gives him a reassuring pat on the head before wrenching off his left arm at the shoulder joint.
FREDROCK~!: Yeeow!
Fred gives Ellis a doleful look. She gives him an apologetic kiss on the cheek – it’s going to be OK; FREDROCK~! is suddenly in a dreamy place all by himself – and then steps away smartly because blood’s spurting everywhere and these cheer shorts are only a few weeks old.
George Cassidy: Truth, she just ripped FREDROCK~!’s arm off!
Truth Waters: Ah, I’ve seen worse. Don’t worry, he’s INVINCIBLE~!
George Cassidy: I know, I know, but it’s still a shock... and to our newer fans...
Truth Waters: Good point. OK y’all, FREDROCK~! just got his arm ripped off, but it doesn’t matter. It’ll miraculously reappear soon enough. It’s what happens.
Nash turns towards the entrance-way and brandishes the arm like a baseball bat, her fingers entwined with the now lifeless ones of FREDSARM~!. The melodic, beautiful sound of a pair of acoustic guitars fills the arena with music. An Italian style solo plays, then the introduction fades into hard, driving metal as 'The Enemy' by Team Cazares starts to play.
James Brunt: And her opponent, from Belfast, Northern Ireland by way of Boston, Massachusetts, weighing 230 pounds... MIKEY O'REILLY!
Mikey O'Reilly is seen slowly making his way onto the ramp and makes his way down to the ring as Zsasz disappears into the back. The yells of Mark Hunter fill the arena.
I finally found myself;
I tried to erase all this hate from my body.
I tried to end all the lies, all the pain that I caused everyone,
But it all seemed so fucking useless!
He rolls into the ring, climbing up one of the corners, raising his arms up.
I can’t forgive
And I can’t forget.
Don’t you know who the fuck I am?
I’m the enemy.
THE ENEMY!
The enemy.
THE ENEMY!
He hops off the corner, removes his leather, porkpie style hat, puts it in the corner of the ring, facing up. He removes his golden catholic cross, kisses it, places it inside the hat and removes his white wifebeater. He turns. And Nash tonks him in the face with FREDROCK~!’s arm.
Truth Waters: OH it’s all kicking off!
George Cassidy: I don’t think so. Ellis was just giving FREDROCK~!’s arm a road test.
Ellis chuckles to herself, reeling FREDSARM~! back in and inspecting it. FREDROCK~! nods, impressed, and tries to applaud but then realises he only has one arm. Both he and Nash burst into laughter. Meanwhile, O’Reilly staggers back to his feet, feeling with wonder the alien blood on his forehead and watching Nash in a confused manner.
George Cassidy: I don’t think O’Reilly can quite believe what he’s seeing here. He won’t have encountered FREDROCK~! before.
Truth Waters: If Nash plans to use FREDSARM~! throughout, Mikey’s in for a rude awakening, BAH GAWD!
Brown strobes begin to coat the staging area in a muddy half-light as “Garbage Bag Johnny Will Win Zero 2 Hero” accompanies the appearance of Mr. Eleven-Zero himself. Garbage Bag has dressed himself up for the occasion, a slightly frayed and ever so minutely sullied American flag jacket over his shoulders.
James Brunt: And their opponent, from Urbana, Illinois, weighing in at 219 pounds... “The Wolf”, GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY!
George Cassidy: The Wolf? That’s new.
Truth Waters: Every wrestling promotion has to have a Wolf, Cassidy! It’s common law!
Another figure appears behind GBJ, grinning inanely at the crowd, who fall into a stunned silence and then begin to wildly cheer.
George Cassidy: Th-th-th-th-ohmygod.
Truth Waters: THAT’S MEL GIBSON! GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY IS LEADING MEL GIBSON TO THE RING! The star of The Patriot!
James Brunt: Accompanying Garbage Bag Johnny for this match... MEL GIBSON!
GBJ turns and holds out his arms as if rocking a baby low. Gibson obediently leaps into them sideways, and Garbage Bag turns around and sprints to the ring as fast as he can, gritting his teeth as he clasps Mel Gibson in his arms.
George Cassidy: Er...
FREDROCK~! openly gawps. Mikey O’Reilly has turned a funny shade of pink. Even Ellis Nash is raising an interested eyebrow. Garbage Bag Johnny reaches the point where the ramp ends and leaps off one foot, as if performing the long jump in the Olympics. As he is propelled forwards, he swings his arms upwards, sending Gibson spinning away from him, and up and over the ropes right across Mikey O’Reilly’s body.
Truth Waters: Cross body block! Garbage Bag Johnny just... just used Mel Gibson as a projectile!
George Cassidy: He’s a patriotic object! That’s fair! Wait, where’s Mel Gibson g---
Gibson quickly disintegrates as Garbage Bag leaps up into the ring and grins down at the felled O’Reilly, who sits up and frowns.
Truth Waters: Cassidy... that... that wasn’t really Mel Gibson... was it?
George Cassidy: There was nothing there at all! It was a hologram!
Truth Waters: Heh. Mikey O’Reilly got cross-bodied by a hologram...
Nash turns away and stifles a smirk with her cupped hand. Taking his cue, FREDROCK~! erupts into a belly laugh. A touch annoyed, GBJ rips the flagpole out of the nearest turnbuckle and raps FREDROCK~! sharply across the forehead with it.
George Cassidy: (sighing) Oh dear, Garbage Bag Johnny’s just sliced off the top half of FREDROCK~!’s skull.
The crown of The Invincible One’s head drops to the canvas with a slap, and Nash turns away, anticipating disgust at the sight of FREDROCK~!’s brains. She has failed to remember that he, in fact, has none. “Music Box” by Thrice now starts up as AgentDash makes his way out.
James Brunt: And finally, from Berkeley, California, weighing in at 190 pounds... AGENTDASH!
Truth Waters: Here comes AgentDash, who was a respectable runner-up in the Carnage Cage match that was won by Ellis Nash a few weeks ago. He’s not been able to follow that up with any true penetration into the upper card... not yet, anyway.
George Cassidy: And for someone with no charisma, and no technical ability to speak of, it’s gotta be a case of not now, not ever.
Following the Agent down to the ring is a huge dumpster of weapons, pushed by security staff Bruno Hague and Butch Radder. This is wheeled down to ringside and one detachable side wall removed as AgentDash steps through the ropes and the bell rings.
Truth Waters: The dumpster you see there was left backstage all night for the competitors to top up with whatever weapons – patriotic ones, of course – they desired. We could be seeing all manner of objects...
George Cassidy: As long as they pledge sufficient allegiance to the Stars and Stripes, that’ll do just fine!
AgentDash looks the one-armed, half-headed FREDROCK~! up and down in confusion and is taken by surprise by Mikey O’Reilly creeping up on him with a hail of facial blows. Finding himself rapidly beaten back into the turnbuckle, Dash is powerless against the onslaught.
Truth Waters: Mikey O’Reilly, Playing Bully from the beginning!
Nash shoves FREDROCK~! in GBJ’s direction and scoots out of the ring to rifle through the array of weaponry in the dumpster. Numerous weird and wonderful pieces of equipment slide out to the floor; a large wooden stick, a book, a bumper plate, a baseball bat and what looks like a cardboard cut-out are among them. Nash, however, chooses a rolled-up newspaper and a Bud Light bottle.
George Cassidy: Ellis is the first to get her hands on real weaponry! I’d like her to get her hands on my weaponry...
Truth Waters: And FREDROCK~! already acting as a weapon in the ring for her...
George Cassidy: Nash appears to be the one competitor best making use of the stipulation!
Truth Waters: But remember that pins have to be made under the flags... one of which Garbage Bag already has in his hands!
Having averted FREDROCK~!’s ‘attack’, GBJ looks to quickly dispose of him with a flag jab to the ribs. Unfortunately, the pole goes right through him and squelches out the other side; FREDROCK~! slumps sideways and tumbles through the ropes, impaled through the heart. GBJ turns and holds up his innocent arms, an expression of surprise on his face; that surprise barely has the chance to turn to horror before O’Reilly descends upon him with an attack straight out of the bare-knuckle handbook. After two blows Johnny is staggering back, but a loud CLUNK causes him to open his eyes in interest. Seeing O’Reilly slam a hand to the side of his head and totter aside, and a glass bottle falling to the canvas, GBJ takes it as safe to move out and rushes into a firm facebuster on O’Reilly. On his knees, he exchanges a wink with Ellis Nash, who is hopping up onto the apron.
George Cassidy: Good aim from Ellis Nash. She helped her Royal Court buddy out of a sticky situation there. O’Reilly looks intent on taking his personal problems out on these competitors tonight!
Truth Waters: A few more facebusters from Garbage Bag Johnny and he won’t have the choice.
AgentDash, just recovering in the corner from his O’Reilly onslaught, gets a swipe in the back of the head from Ellis Nash and goes down heavily.
Truth Waters: The New York Times shot!
George Cassidy: Dash went down like a ton of bricks...
Truth Waters: Ah well, you can’t no-sell the New York Times!
George Cassidy: Oh, I think he had to sell a lot more than that...
With Michael Ryan watching as GBJ lifts O’Reilly to his feet, Nash rips the binding from the folded paper to reveal the piece of lead piping that had been concealed inside, to a conspiratorial cheer from the nearest fans. She quickly shunts the illegal piping out of the ring with the toe of her shoe and opens up the paper, cursorily glancing at AgentDash, who is clutching the back of his head.
Truth Waters: Now that’s just insulting! Nash mocking AgentDash by reading her copy of the newspaper, after he just got clocked with a piece of concealed lead piping!
George Cassidy: PATRIOTIC piping, Truth!
Truth Waters: Then why’s she hiding it?
George Cassidy: VAGINA PUNCH!
Truth Waters: What kind of an answer is that?
George Cassidy: No, look at Garbage Bag!
Mikey O’Reilly is down, clutching his groin. Michael Ryan looks suspiciously at GBJ, but he missed it, having just turned his head to check on the Nash/Dash situation. Johnny spreads his arms wide in innocence.
Garbage Bag Johnny: What? He doesn’t have a vagina, so I can’t have vagina-punched him... right?
The referee accepts this crystal-clear explanation.
George Cassidy: There’s a serious flaw in Garbage Bag’s logic there...
Truth Waters: You’re damn right, Cass! Of course O’Reilly has a vagina! He’s made of pussy!
George Cassidy: Whoa, calm down there Truth... if I didn’t know better I’d say you were a little horny for Mikey O’Reilly.
Truth Waters: Do you want a slap in the chops?
Garbage Bag Johnny drags O’Reilly over to the set of ropes parallel to the dumpster. Ellis Nash ceremoniously pulls her New York Times apart, dumping the pages over AgentDash as he moves onto his side, frowning and feeling the back of his head. She then strides over as GBJ pulls O’Reilly up, and grabs one leg as Johnny takes the other.
Truth Waters: I could be wrong, Cass, but this looks dangerous for Mikey O’Reilly – BAH GAWD!
Nash and Garbage Bag tip MOR backwards over the ropes and he falls into the dumpster with a loud crash!
George Cassidy: O’Reilly dumped... in the dumpster!
The crowd cheer loudly, relishing the chance to indulge in some chants for the man who is essentially O’Reilly’s predecessor, Paddy O’Shea, who lost to O’Reilly at Divide And Conquer but retains the adoration of the fans, far more so than O’Reilly, who is still seemingly regarded as laboured and cliché. ”PADDY! PADDY!” is the noise, but it’s doubtful O’Reilly can even hear it, having tipped backwards head-first into a trap of partly his own making. The worst, however, is yet to come. Garbage Bag Johnny grabs the top rope and hoists himself up...
Truth Waters: GBJ springboards... AND BRINGS NEW LIFE TO THE DUMPSTER DIVE!
George Cassidy: Quite literal Dumpster Dive action from the Garbage Bag! He put his body on the line to do some more damage to Mikey O’Reilly, leaping blind into that weapon-filled dumpster!
As Nash looks on, half amused and half concerned, AgentDash is at last up and rips the flag out of the nearest turnbuckle before smashing it against Nash’s lower back. Ellis topples forwards into the ropes, taken by surprise; Dash bends to entwine the flagpole in between her legs and scoop her back with a starry and stripy roll-up:
George Cassidy: DASH HAS ELLIS ROLLED UP WITH THE FLAG!
ONE!
TWO!
Ellis kicks out, furiously throwing the material off her face.
Truth Waters: AgentDash nearly came from nowhere to win his independence! Only a two-count, but so so close to gaining the opportunity to make his own bookings up until Coast To Coast!
Dash slaps the mat in frustration, and slides out of the ring to look into the dumpster. The sight of O’Reilly’s and GBJ’s tangled bodies greets him. AgentDash grabs O’Reilly by the seat of his pants and pulls him out as best he can, bringing Johnny and a load of small weapons tumbling down with him. Picking up the “AMERICAN DREAM” license plate, Dash turns only to find Ellis Nash already right in his face. She goes for a quick step jab but the Agent blocks the blow and slams the license plate across her forehead with both hands. The cheap aluminium bends easily, but the force as AgentDash follows through still causes Nash to trip over GBJ’s body and fall backwards against the side of the ring.
George Cassidy: AgentDash just brained Ellis with that license plate!
Truth Waters: “AMERICAN DREAM”, it says –
George Cassidy: We can read Truth.
Truth Waters: Michael Ryan seems perfectly happy with it; a lot of the items strewn across the floor look a little more tenuous in their pro-USA linkages though – is that a... a gavel?
AgentDash hops up into the ring and hands a note to Michael Ryan before sliding back out again and waiting, watching patiently.
George Cassidy: Er... OK. AgentDash has handed a note to the referee...
The referee scans the note and walks over to the side of the ring, passing it to James Brunt, who takes it in surprise and listens to Ryan’s instructions, then follows them, reading to the crowd:
James Brunt: To the referee... here follows a discussion of the video games series Metal Gear, but to cut to the chase... the character Revolver Ocelot belongs to a fictional organisation called The Patriots, and is thus... a legal weapon...
Ellis Nash gets to her feet and charges at AgentDash. He is ready, dropping her to the item-strewn floor with a drop toe hold and bounding to his feet to grab the cardboard cut-out on the floor. As he stands it up, we see that it is in fact a representation of Revolver Ocelot. He holds the cardboard cut-out high overhead, and throws it down on Nash’s body. The former Frontier champion barely notices as it hits her.
George Cassidy: Don’t tell me all of that was for a cardboard cut-out.
Truth Waters: That does seem a whole lot of effort for very little product... is AgentDash a secret Metal Gear nut, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: How in the hell should I know?
Dash, not waiting to see the effect of his attack attempt, dashes – aha, ha – off, leaping over O’Reilly’s stirring body to run up the ramp and through the curtain.
George Cassidy: And now he’s done a runner!
Truth Waters: AgentDash’s behaviour goes from odd to... VERY odd!
Just as this happens, James Brunt notices that there is a reverse side to the note.
James Brunt: Be back... in... a minute...
Truth Waters: Maybe AgentDash has gone to search out a weapon he’s left backstage!
George Cassidy: I don’t see why that’s necessary. There’s a whole dumpster full of them here!
Ellis Nash gets up, to see Garbage Bag Johnny also pulling himself to his feet. Instead of going on the attack, Nash busies herself searching through the weapons available, and settles on the hefty-looking New York Yankees baseball bat.
Truth Waters: I’d wager that Ellis Nash supplied that weapon herself, seeing as she’s from Cortland, New York.
George Cassidy: You’re correct there Truth.
Nash fingers the bat, looking a little apprehensively at the figure of Garbage Bag Johnny as he turns to face her.
Truth Waters: This is an interesting moment. Both these wrestlers are strongly linked with Adam Dick, the Transatlantic champion, but we’ve seen very little interaction between the two of them.
GBJ holds up a hand, signalling for Ellis to wait, and reaches into the dumpster. Nash immediately braces herself, pulling the bat higher.
George Cassidy: Ellis, what are you waiting for? You can’t give him the time to reach for a weapon at his leisure!
But what The Wolf extricates is not ostensibly a weapon. It’s ostensibly a hot dog.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag Johnny has a hot dog!
George Cassidy: He doesn’t get to eat that often. He should make the most of that.
GBJ brings it to his lips, ostensibly nibbling the top of the sausage. As Ellis watches, Garbage Bag ostensibly chews, then ostensibly takes in with glee the glorious smell of sausage, mustard, ketchup and America.
Truth Waters: You don’t get much more American than a hot dog.
Garbage Bag Johnny then steps forward and holds out the hot dog, offering it to Ellis Nash.
George Cassidy: Johnny’s asking Ellis if she wants a bite of his sausage!
After a moment’s hesitation, Nash lets the bat fall to her side and nods, lowering her head to take a bite as GBJ ostensibly pushes the hot dog towards her. Then as Ellis’ lips close around what is ostensibly a hot dog, Johnny, not ostensibly at all, squeezes the sandwich, hard. Mustard shoots out of it, flying directly into Nash’s eyes. Yelling out and rubbing frantically at her eyes, Nash drops the bat and stumbles in a circle.
George Cassidy: He double-crossed her! Garbage Bag Johnny just cheated Ellis Nash and squirted mustard in her eyes!
GBJ puts out a hand to lean on the apron and continues to munch his hot dog, grinning – but soon that grin turns to a frown, because with all the mustard from the hot dog in Ellis’ eyes, there is now insufficient mustard in his sandwich. Tossing the now useless sausage roll overhead, he stomps almost reluctantly over to the finally rising, completely aching Mikey O’Reilly. What Garbage Bag hasn’t seen is that his carelessly-tossed hot dog has in fact hit Michael Ryan on the head, and since everyone knows that referees are ten times weaker than normal mortals, this has put him out for the count.
Truth Waters: The ref is down! He got hit by the hot dog, but Garbage Bag isn’t aware of it!
FREDROCK~! hurries over to tend to Ellis, taking the mustardy lady in his podgy arms and giving her a cuddle. After ascertaining that this is not in fact Mikey O’Reilly trying to engage her in a grapple – the “Is this FREDROCK~!?” acid test is to grab the stomach and see whether or not you get seven inches of flab in your fist – Nash calms down a little, but having got most of the yellow sauce out of her eyes, tears are streaming from them unstoppably.
George Cassidy: I don’t think Ellis’ poor eyes like mustard. She needs to wash it out with warm water!
GBJ attempts a grapple on O’Reilly, but the fired-up Irishman punches him full in the face instead. With a glance, O’Reilly realises that the referee is incapacitated, and proceeds to full-on pummel Garbage Bag Johnny, closed fist after closed fist, backing him into a sitting position against the security fence and continuing to bash his forehead repeatedly.
Truth Waters: These punches from Mikey O’Reilly are, well, scary... the force behind them is truly breathtaking. You know he killed an opponent in the ring once?
George Cassidy: Of boredom?
Truth Waters: No, with one big punch... I do fear for Garbage Bag; he could end up brain-damaged you know!
George Cassidy: ...Do you realise what you just said?
CRASH!
Truth Waters: What the... the... what the hell was th---?
CRASH!
George Cassidy: Is poor Truthy scared?
Truth Waters: Of course I'm not scared you pussy! I just w---
CRASH!
George Cassidy: WHOA.
Taller than the Triangles structure; more menacing than Hate on a bad day. What has just appeared on the stage, somewhat miraculously given the logistics of size parameters?
Metal Gear.
Truth Waters: AGENTDASH IS PILOTING METAL GEAR! This is ridiculous! But pretty awesome all the same!
CRASH!
Metal Gear begins to take big steps along the stage, as fans scramble for their cameras to capture this unique moment. Michael Ryan, up after the hot dog disaster, is in furious consultation with James Brunt.
CRASH!
George Cassidy: Is this even allowed?
Truth Waters: I guess Revolver Ocelot was supposed to be the link... for those not in the know, this is a giant structure from a series of PlayStation games!
George Cassidy: The pilot area is open, though; we can see Dash in there. And that’s bad tactics; remember the first game? Remember shooting for it?
Truth Waters: I'm a little ashamed to say that I do...
George Cassidy: Hideo Kojima is my God.
James Brunt reaches for the ring announcer’s microphone:
James Brunt: Do we have any Metal Gear experts backstage, or... or in the audience?
George Cassidy: ME ME ME!
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH!
Brunt runs over to the commentary table, a little frantic as he has to dodge past Metal Gear, piloted by AgentDash in a slightly haphazard manner. The metal structure descends upon the awed Ellis Nash and FREDROCK~!. Mikey O’Reilly affords it little attention, preferring to focus his efforts on beating the fuck out of Garbage Bag Johnny, now with vicious kicks after Ryan’s regaining consciousness forced him to abandon the closed fists. Until it starts shooting at him.
Truth Waters: HOLY HELL THAT THING JUST SHOT A FIREBALL AT MIKEY O’REILLY! Now he’s gonna pay it some attention; fortunately Dash missed! This has gotta be stopped!
George Cassidy: What do you wanna know, Brunty?
James Brunt: Is... is that THING... anything to do with Revolver Ocelot?
George Cassidy: No, not really, not at all.
James Brunt: So it’s not to do with The Patriots...
George Cassidy: Weeell...
James Brunt: YES OR NO!?
CRASH!
George Cassidy: (gulping) No...
James Brunt: It’s not legal! It’s not legal!
Brunt sprints down the ramp, waving his arms; Ryan gets the signal and points forbiddingly. AgentDash sees him and Ryan makes a threatening signal. Not wanting to risk disqualification, Dash has Metal Gear lower him to the floor. It then melts or something; you decide. I don’t want it on the stage anymore.
Truth Waters: Whew, that was close. That fireball singed O’Reilly’s ginger hair!
George Cassidy: Shame it didn’t go closer... AgentDash could have wiped out O’Cliché once and for all!
Truth Waters: Still I think no Metal Gear at AWC shows is for the best...
George Cassidy: I guess so.
AgentDash hurries towards the ring, arms spread, keen to argue that Metal Gear is in fact a legal weapon. Nash intercepts him from the side with a hard shot from the baseball bat!
Truth Waters: What a shot! Ellis Nash with the bat!
George Cassidy: She’s basically fighting blind now! Ellis’ eyes are streaming thanks to GBJ’s mustard spurtage but Nash can still attack by feel! She took a swipe at the air and connected with Dash’s head.
AgentDash tumbles to the floor and Nash continues on, twirling into a neat shot to O’Reilly’s kidneys. He turns, ready to punch her lights out, but hesitates a little when he sees her red eyes. Has she been crying? Oh, you moron; emotions are no good in a wrestling match! That’s a THWACK to the side of the head for you, and now Nash moves on, finally looking for her revenge on Garbage Bag Johnny. The Wolf looks up timidly, still sprawled against the security fence, battered and bruised. A lurch of his body and red liquid spurts from his mouth; it’s not right for young lungs to be coughing up blood. Nash brings her bat back –
George Cassidy: Garbage Bag Johnny is gonna get what he deserves! Ellis Nash taking revenge!
FREDROCK~! appears from nowhere to grab the bat as she tries to swing! His one hand holds doggedly onto the end of the wooden implement as he argues against the hitting of a defenceless opponent. Nash shrugs him off, annoyed, but hell hath no fury like a FREDROCK~! scorned, and he unleashes the Mighty Finger Poke Of Doom~!
Truth Waters: FINGER POKE! FINGER POKE! ELLIS DOWN!
George Cassidy: FREDROCK~!’s sense of honour stopped him letting Ellis Nash smash GBJ with the bat and now he’s gone too far, executing his mighty finisher on his best friend in the entire world!
FREDROCK~!, hands (well actually only one) to his head (well actually only half), drops to his knees over Ellis’ fallen body, crestfallen at what he has done. He nestles his head against her abdomen, weeping, shouting over and over again his regret. But what’s done is done.
Garbage Bag Johnny is laid out against the security fence. AgentDash and Mikey O’Reilly are down on the ramp after baseball bat shots to the head. And Ellis Nash has been devastated by FREDROCK~!’s mighty finger. After all this frantic action, right now there is actually nothing going on.
Truth Waters: It all looks to have quietened down a little, and not before time. Let’s just take a breather for a moment and get up to date with all the happ---
George Cassidy: What’s this?!
The video screen has come to life. David “Pearl” Harber’s office is empty as Kris Krimzon walks in.
Truth Waters: Huh? I don’t know what we’re being shown here... that’s Krimzon in Harber’s office...
Krimzon reaches into his pocket and pulls out several stink bombs, which he lines up on Pearl’s desk. Sitting in Harber’s chair, he composes himself for a moment and gives a wink to the camera. The fans cheer loudly.
George Cassidy: Truth, I think...
Krimzon violently headbutts the desk. Glass shards fly everywhere.
George Cassidy: I think Kris Krimzon just bombed Pearl Harber!
Krimzon sits up, an inane grin spreading across his face, a split already visible in the skin of his forehead – then his expression turns to a disgusted delight as the chemicals take effect. Krimzon bursts out through the door, just as Pearl walks in.
Pearl: Well what do you – ugh!
Harber backtracks, slamming the door shut behind him.
There is a sudden gasp. Garbage Bag Johnny is on his feet, staring at the screen in horror.
Truth Waters: That certainly woke Garbage Bag Johnny up...
GBJ sprints towards the dumpster, hurdling O’Reilly’s body with no regard for what he is treading on as he dives in head-first and searches frantically. Finally, he draws out...
Truth Waters: AN ATOMIC BOMB?!
George Cassidy: Kris Krimzon bombed Pearl Harber! That’s the prompt Garbage Bag was waiting for! IT’S TIME FOR HIM TO NUKE THE SHIT OUT OF HIROSHIMA AND NAGASAKI!
Holding the atom bomb high above his head... somehow... Garbage Bag Johnny turns in a slow circle of patriotic anger – until, thankfully (otherwise we were all about to die, or something), Ellis Nash leaps at him with a high shoulder tackle. The bomb flies out of GBJ’s hands...
Truth Waters: NOOOOO!
And FREDROCK~! catches it. And eats it. Yeah.
George Cassidy: FREDROCK~! just ate an atomic bomb. Ah, whatever.
Nash is now on top of GBJ, kicking and punching and screaming.
Truth Waters: Absolutely furious at her embarrassing and painful treatment with the hot dog filling, Ellis Nash is taking it to Garbage Bag Johnny!
AgentDash decides it’s time to crash the party, taking the same US flag he used earlier in his unsuccessful pinfall attempt on Ellis and slamming the pole down across her back. Nash falls aside and Dash raises the flagpole high for GBJ, but The Wolf suddenly sits up and reaches between his legs...
Truth Waters: GOOCH RAKE! Garbage Bag with the Gooch Rake from his seated position!
Dash cries out; Mikey O’Reilly picks him up from the side in a fireman’s carry...
George Cassidy: O’REILLY BOMB into the dumpster!
O’Reilly hits one of his many signature moves through the open side of the dumpster, landing Dash on the significant stash of still unused weaponry. Garbage Bag pushes past O’Reilly to grab something that has caught his eye, and as Mikey goes for a punch he holds it out...
Truth Waters: THAT’S A BAG OF HOMOPHOBIA! GBJ just defended himself with a bag of homophobia, and it just exploded all over O’Reilly!
George Cassidy: Haha, that’s as patriotic as they come!
O’Reilly’s attire suddenly turns a vivid shade of pink and his wrists go all floppy.
Truth Waters: What a way to nullify Mikey O’Reilly’s main strength of bare-knuckle boxing – the wrists have just gone, courtesy of Garbage’s bag of homophobia!
George Cassidy: This is getting less believable by the second!
Pleased with himself, Garbage Bag Johnny now struggles to pull an enormous red oil barrel out of the dumpster.
Truth Waters: Is oil patriotic, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: It’s as patriotic as George W. Bush is moronic!
GBJ thrusts the heavy barrel into O’Reilly’s abdomen; O’Reilly foolishly tries to hold it but under his limp wrists the weight just drops, down onto his feet. Mikey yells out as he falls backwards, his hands going to his ankles.
Truth Waters: O’Reilly could have a broken foot or two after that! The heavy oil barrel fell onto his feet from above!
George Cassidy: Look at Ellis!
Ellis Nash is now sprinting away up the ramp in a manner reminiscent of AgentDash minutes ago. FREDROCK~! speeds after her, though speed may be an exaggeration in the case of a man with one arm, half a head and one impressively rotund belly with a flagpole rammed through it and out the other side.
Truth Waters: Looks like Nash’s got something planned backstage!
Garbage Bag Johnny grabs O’Reilly under his armpits and pulls him to his feet before backhanding him across his face just to make sure he is subdued. He then rolls O’Reilly into the ring and follows up. The nearest two turnbuckles are, to his dismay, devoid of flags; he hurtles across the ring and grabs another as O’Reilly rises to his weary feet. Dropping the flag, Garbage Bag Johnny knees O’Reilly hard in the gut, lifts him onto his shoulders, and –
George Cassidy: TRAGICALLY HIPBUSTER!
Truth Waters: The move whose name Jeremy J. doesn’t even understand fells his own fictional creation!
George Cassidy: This one has gotta be over in GBJ’s favour! Where’s Ellis?!
Garbage Bag raises the flag up high; there is a reaction from the crowd who sense the imminent pinfall. But then it goes wrong for him; he brings a lighter from his US jacket and flicks it at the corner of the flag, immediately setting it alight.
George Cassidy: DEAR GOD!
GBJ grins creepily, believing he’s being especially hardcore. But the intense onslaught of boos tell him otherwise.
George Cassidy: It’s the 4th of July! He can’t do that!
Truth Waters: He can’t do that ANY damn day of the year Cassidy! I believe Garbage Bag innocently thought he’d inject a little flame into proceedings---
George Cassidy: Innocently! Truth Waters: But the negative reaction is forcing him to rethink!
Shrugging his shoulders – accepting that the Richmond, Virginia crowd is just not hardcore enough for this – Johnny blows the flame out. Well, he tries. It doesn’t quite work, so he leans closer. This time, the flame on the flag goes out – but not before setting alight---
Truth Waters: HIS BEARD!
George Cassidy: Garbage Bag Johnny’s beard is on fire!
In a panic, GBJ slaps at his face. Before the flame can spread, it is extinguished.
Truth Waters: We nearly had an incident there!
George Cassidy: Oh, I'm sure he’s set himself alight many a time, Truth... it’s all the alcohol on his breath...
Truth Waters: At last now he drapes the US flag over Mikey O’Reilly for the pinfall after the Tragically Hipbuster!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
George Cassidy: O’REILLY KICKS OUT!
Truth Waters: So close! So close! Garbage Bag just left it too---
The words hang in the air, because Truth has just turned his head to the right from his position at the commentary desk to one side of the stage, and what he sees causes them to die in his throat.
George Cassidy: Is that a tractor?
Truth Waters: Your eyes aren’t deceiving you Cassidy! Ellis Nash is riding out here on a John Deere tractor!
George Cassidy: Aha, a John Deere tractor!
Truth Waters: Yeah, a John Deere tractor!
George and Truth: (together) Ahh... America!
(If only Hyde knew what the hell a John Deere tractor was, and why it is any different from a bloody normal tractor, you might get something more appropriate.)
Truth Waters: Look at Ellis Nash, on her patriotic tractor!
(See.)
George Cassidy: Metal Gear, John Deere... what’s next?!
Nash guns the engines, bringing the tractor sharply down the ramp. Garbage Bag Johnny, entranced, leaps down onto the arena floor, briefly checks on AgentDash – who is stirring within the dumpster – and heads out to intercept Nash. Unfortunately, she doesn’t really want to be intercepted, and accelerates.
Truth Waters: NASH IS TRYING TO RUN GARBAGE BAG JOHNNY DOWN!
GBJ dives out of the way and the tractor goes clattering into the dumpster before Ellis can slam on the brakes. As the dumpster is shunted towards the ring and the Deere grinds to a halt, Nash springs out of her seat and leaps onto GBJ, clawing at him as if in a catfight.
George Cassidy: Ellis seems to be pretty passionate in her distaste for Garbage Bag Johnny here! She’s RIPPING, TEARING at him...
Truth Waters: When she’s finished with him he may well be worthy only of a garbage bag.
Nash slams Johnny’s head against the mesh fence; blood begins to trickle from his scalp. She then hops back in the driving seat of the tractor, which has now become a forklift truck, because it might as well. She engages the forklift mechanism using surprisingly well developed heavy machinery skills, and the crowd begins to cheer manically as Nash guides the forklift to pick up the dumpster...
Truth Waters: THAT’S GOT AGENTDASH INSIDE!
But as the dumpster rises slowly off the floor, AgentDash tumbles out the open side. Nash hasn’t seen him, and continues raising it, watching intently for any movement. Steeling himself, a white-faced Agent gets to his feet and, knowing it’s now or never, springboards off the tractor wheel...
Truth Waters: DROPKICK THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD! GOD ALMIGHTY! NASH COULD BE BLINDED!
George Cassidy: HER FACE, TORN TO SHREDS!
Nash tumbles out through the open door, broken glass and blood all over her face as she falls to the floor on her head and neck to lie just a few feet from Garbage Bag Johnny. AgentDash hits his hip hard against the dash(aha,ha)board and lies back, yelling in pain, but it is evident that Nash has come off by far the worst here. Even Michael Ryan, senior referee, abandons O’Reilly in the ring to head over looking very concerned.
George Cassidy: Call it off! Call it off! We can’t go on from here! Ellis Nash needs some medical attention!
Truth Waters: These competitors have gone to such extraordinary lengths... such dangerous lengths, and I think Harber, now with such a thin roster for his side of the tour, may regret it! All four of these could be out of action for some time if their injuries are serious!
George Cassidy: WHO CARES ABOUT THE TOUR?! ELLIS NASH – THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD – COULD BE MAIMED FOR LIFE! DEAD, EVEN---
Truth Waters: NO! I don’t believe it! She’s on her feet!
Cuts on her face, glass in her hair; not significantly hurt. Ellis Nash gets to her feet – just as Garbage Bag Johnny does, beside her. He looks at her wearily. She sighs, and turns away.
George Cassidy: SHE’S OKAY!
Truth Waters: And a truce perhaps, between Nash and GBJ?
GBJ moves past Ellis, taking Dash by the arms and pulling him out of the tractor. He begins to drag the Agent towards the ring; Ellis grabs the legs, a defiant expression on her face, and helps. Mikey O’Reilly moves away as they roll Dash into the ring, forming his right fist as he waits for Garbage Bag Johnny. Nash and GBJ slide into the ring.
Truth Waters: Garbage Bag looks oblivious to the waiting O’Reilly...
As GBJ gets to his feet, O’Reilly is right on him once more, battering him into a corner. Meanwhile, Nash gets Dash to his feet and locks up from behind –
George Cassidy: DECREE! DE-FUCKING-CREE! She just got a fucking windshield kicked into her face and Ellis is hitting a fucking Decree!
O’Reilly lays GBJ out with a last punch, sending him sprawling just as Ellis Nash procures the last of the four flagpoles and tosses the Stars and Stripes over AgentDash’s prone body. O’Reilly grabs her around the waist, jockeying to get Nash towards the ropes, and throws her through them – she goes tumbling to the outside.
Truth Waters: O’REILLY HAS CLEARED THE RING! IT’S ALL OPENED UP FOR HIM!
Garbage Bag Johnny claws his way to his feet in the corner as O’Reilly moves over to Dash and stands over him, milking the moment. This is what he’s been waiting for all this time. A win in a main event. The chance to book himself as he sees fit for the next two months. But then there’s a blur of motion at his side.
George Cassidy: GBJ!
Jump. Springboard. Flip. Engage. Slam.
Truth Waters: WHIRLING DEBRIS!
George Cassidy: The Whirling Debris has taken out Mikey O’Reilly! He and GBJ lay motionless!
Truth Waters: AND THERE’S ELLIS! Ellis Nash has come onto the apron---
George Cassidy: SHE’S ASCENDING THE TURNBUCKLE! ELLIS NASH UP ON TOP!
Flashbulbs go off everywhere. Everybody knows that this is the moment – except maybe AgentDash, unmoving under that flag, who might not even be conscious. Ellis leaps off the top rope – it’s a frog splash, perfectly placed for the immediate pin...
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: ELLIS WINS!
Truth Waters: She’s been through hell tonight and her face shows it, but Ellis Nash takes the win! The Battle For Independence is won by Ellis Nash, who can now book her own schedule until Coast To Coast!
George Cassidy: My heart is going THIS fast! Boy oh boy, I don’t think I can take another of those, Truth!
Truth Waters: But Hyde forgot to extend the tenuous Metal Gear connection and have AgentDash use the stealth cloak!
George Cassidy: Darn it!
Truth Waters: He forgot the foam finger too! A crucial element of the match plan!
George Cassidy: Darn it!
Truth Waters: Not to mention having Garbage Bag Johnny hit someone with manifest destiny!
George Cassidy: Dar--- how the hell does that work?
Truth Waters: Exactly! I'm pretty sure O’Reilly was meant to hit someone with a shillelagh too, but I don’t think we did too badly out of tonight’s main event!
George Cassidy: We certainly didn’t – THEY certainly did! Every one of our competitors is dead on, and off their feet!
Nash collapses into Brunt’s arms, and then, tellingly, those – I mean, that – of FREDROCK~!.
James Brunt: The winner of AWC Independence... ELLIS NASH!
A Favor!
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE, TRACY STANTON
AUTHORS: LARA C. AND MIKE S.
Pierce Lavelle stormed around backstage angry at the night’s proceedings. He had decided to sign with Sasha and join the East tour, leaving his former friends tour and joining someone he knew very little about, but he had decided it was the best course of action for him. He couldn’t stand Pearl anymore and he couldn’t trust him neither, how could he? After all that had happened he had developed a hard shell about him, paranoid and not being able to trust the people that he thought were his friends.
Pierce stopped at a vending machine and purchased a bottle of water. He quenched his parched palette as he let the cool water slide down his throat bringing with it a sense of relief. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder causing him to turn, ready for a fight but as he turned he saw it was just Tracy.
Tracy: You okay Pierce?
Pierce immediately relaxed, knowing it was just Tracy. He could trust her; there was not one wicked bone in her body. She had become one of his friends and Sarah Kennedy’s closest friend. The girl was wonderful, asking how Pierce was when she looked wrecked herself. She was much thinner than he remembered and he always remembered her as nothing but skin and bones; now it was coming true.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m okay Tracy, how are you doing?
She shrugged.
Tracy: I guess I’m doing just about as good as I can be. What’s going on?
Pierce didn’t know why but he felt like getting all that had happened in the evening out in the open and Tracy was someone he felt he could be frank with.
Pierce Lavelle: I just signed with Sasha’s tour. I’m leaving the West tour. Tracy: Oh.
Tracy seemed saddened at the news and Pierce immediately felt guilty inside. He didn’t realize just how alone Tracy was and now his leaving meant her last friend was going to be gone. Sarah was on the East tour and so was her fiancée Chainz; now he was leaving her too.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m sorry Tracy, I just can’t work alongside Pearl. Not after all that’s happened.
Tracy: I know, it just sucks that everyone I know is on the East tour and I’m stuck here all by myself.
Pierce Lavelle: Why are you on the West tour anyway?
Tracy didn’t really know herself. Pearl had said something about wanting her to become an interviewer, but that was bullshit. What experience or training did she have in such a field? She didn’t even like wrestling all that much, she was just in AWC because Michael Sloan was. Now she didn’t know what else to do and found herself stuck in a place where she didn’t belong.
Tracy: Pearl said he was helping me by separating me from Michael. He said I would make a good backstage interviewer because I’m unbiased and nice to everyone.
Pierce Lavelle: Well maybe he’s right.
Tracy: I know, I just don’t like being mean to people that’s all. We have enough of that in the world as it is no need for me to add to it.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m not talking about that.
Tracy looked at Pierce with her big eyes; seemingly not following Pierce’s thought.
Pierce Lavelle: I mean maybe he’s right about helping you by separating you from Chainz.
She looked hurt by the statement.
Tracy: How is he helping me!? By ripping us apart right when things seemed to be going good… You think I’m better off now? I’m all alone; I have no friends and no family here. How is this better?
Pierce Lavelle: Well now you can see that you’re better off without him bringing you down to his level.
She looked skeptical.
Pierce Lavelle: Tracy, you’re a beautiful person, inside and out, you can do better if you want to. Chainz might love you, but he’s too unhinged, he’s too unstable, he’s too sick. He’s too far gone to be reached and I don’t think he’ll ever be the man that you deserve.
Tracy: I can’t give up, I have to try.
Pierce saw it was no use trying to convince Tracy that Chainz was not right for her. Whatever, at least he tried.
Tracy: Hey since you’re going to the East tour could you do me a favor?
Pierce didn’t like the feeling he was getting in his stomach, something told him he was going to make a promise he couldn’t keep.
Pierce Lavelle: Sure, what is it?
Tracy: Well I know that without me Michael might lose it even more than he usually does. I was wondering if you could keep an eye on him and if he steers too far off the road if you could bump him back on track.
What was he a babysitter? He was leaving the West tour to get away from his problems, but now it seemed he was just walking into a bigger mess. He didn’t want to have anything to do with the madman and watching after him would be a difficult task for anyone, especially someone like Pierce who hated the man with a passion, but how could he say no? Tracy stood in front of him, her big eyes pleading with him, wearing her heart on her sleeve. He couldn’t be the man who brought her more grief.
Pierce Lavelle: Okay Tracy, I’ll make sure he stays out of too much trouble. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll try.
Tracy smiled and gave Pierce a hug.
Tracy: Thanks Pierce, Sarah’s a lucky woman to have someone like you.
Now it was Pierce who blushed a bit as Tracy walked off with a wave. Pierce sighed as he thought of the hardships ahead of him.
Pacific Wrestling Club
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, PACIFIC WRESTLING CLUB
AUTHOR: JEFFY
Pearl’s music hits and the fans begin cheering, Pearl marches out from the back and makes his way down to the ring, and he walks up the ring steps and gets into the ring. Before the ring announcer can introduce him, he snatches the microphone off of him and stands in the middle of the ring looking at the camera. Pearl is still soaking wet with the water blast that hit him earlier in the night.
Pearl: Cut my music!
Truth Waters: Ooh, Pearl is not happy Cassidy.
George Cassidy: I can’t blame the guy, he’s soaking wet, he’s the Entertainment Manager of AWC-West and he’s been disrespected, much like this entire organization has.
Pearl: Right, earlier on in the night we had some technical difficulties and I thought that’s all they were at first. Then the PWC sign came up on the screen, proving to me that whoever hacked the AWC website is one of our own, they’ve disgraced this show and this company with their constant taunts. I for one will not stand for it, so whoever the fuck has been fucking with my show, get your ass here and deal with the consequences.
Pearl marches impatiently around the ring for a few moments before stopping.
Pearl: Did you no---
Pearl’s microphone cuts out again, Pearl, now frustrated throws it out of the ring; it would have gone into the crowd save for the high fence.
The water image that was shown earlier shows up again on the big screen, the water then fades leaving the PWC letters just as before. Random images of the ocean begin to flicker on the screen, islands, not Atlantic islands, Pacific islands. Loud pyros go off around the stage and “Know Your Enemy” by Rage against the Machine starts up. The crowd looks on in confusion, a pyro goes off above the also confused “Pearl” Harber making him look up, as he does water hits his face.
George Cassidy: It looks like it’s raining in the arena Truth!
Truth Waters: The equipment is getting wet; this is going to cost huge.
George Cassidy: Indeed, look at Pearl, he’s irate.
Water then blasts out from the backstage area and down the ramp, two men then slide out from the back on a water board, they skid down the ramp the crowd begins cheering as the two men are Kris Krimzon and “The New F’n Evolution” Shawn Harris, leg still heavily strapped. Pearl looks on in shock as the two men enter the ring, the music fades out and Pearl is stood face to face with Shawn and Kris, Shawn snatches the microphone away from Pearl.
George Cassidy: It’s... oh, them.
Shawn Harris: You see, over the past few months I have been involved in the AWC, well I say months, more like weeks due to that fucking idiot Vince Jones. But you know what I realised in that time Davey boy? I am superior, you know what else I have realised? Kris Krimzon is superior, we are the Pacific Wrestling Club and we’re taking over this place, not just the west side of it believe me, we’re taking over everything! The Pacific is a far more superior ocean to that of the Atlantic, who gives a shit about this place? No one now that the PWC are around, we fucked with your site, we fucked with your day, the reason? Simply because we can, people thought the AWC site was in trouble, but oh my no; the site was just the first stage man, the stage that’d get us noticed by everyone. You stand there looking all pissed off and shit, ready to jump one of us, but believe me Dave, you try anything and I’ll make sure you’re off active duty, you’ll be ordering about male nurses faster than you can crack your knuckles. Bearing that in mind, you can either simply move out of the way or let us do what we want, or we’ll do what we want anyway and make your life a living hell.
Kris who is now standing behind Pearl has grabbed another microphone, he then taps Pearl on the shoulder, and Pearl sharply turns.
Kris Krimzon: Now you listenify to me Pearl, everything he just said is true! This place is taking over us – I mean – we’re taking over this place, and by the time we’re done, AWC will be no more! Adam Dick, if he’s lucky, may even be the Trans--- Tra--- Trableurghpacific champion... and it’d be his biggest… only accomplishment yet! You know what I mean?
Truth Waters: Er, no?
George Cassidy: These two men are surely ripping into David Harber and Pearl isn’t the type of guy that’ll back down!
Truth Waters: He won’t risk a fight with the both of them.
George Cassidy: Shawn Harris is injured; it could quite easily be a one on one.
Kris Krimzon: Here tonight, we claim our pacification over the Atlantic Championship Wrestling Federation Club... AWC... be warned, you mess with us, you’ll get burned, why? Because we’re bigger, badder and better than you.
Kris throws the microphone at Pearl, who stares in disbelief as the two men raise their arms and “Know Your Enemy” sees out the show.