Fresh! Results7th February 2006
The Quest For Entrance I
FEATURING: HEROIC HENRY, GUARD
AUTHOR: JOE HAYNES
Wrestling fans were screaming at the top of their lungs inside the Van Andel Arena. Popcorn was being thrown towards the ring and beefy security guards held their position with both of their hands clasped in front of them, as if they were assigned to do a basketball pick. Everyone within the arena was there for one reason: To see the AWC do what they do best: Put on an incredible show. For Heroic Henry, his first appearance with the rest of the roster was coming with a string of difficulties.
A: He dropped his car keys into a puddle. He dropped to his knees and shoved his hand into the muddle puddle and realized that underneath the blanket of water was a clogged drain. The keys had fallen between the cracks and into the womb of the sewer below. Wonderful.
B: He was told by one of the ECMs to enter from the back entrance. So, he drove his ’93 white Camry to the back lot and parked. Enter: keys dropping. He walks over to the massive orange double-doors and tugs at one of them. Locked. So, he runs back over to his car and notices that the ridiculously tall gates were now closed and he was trapped inside the back lot without any logical place to go.
“Knock, Knock”
Heroic Henry: Is anybody there? C’mon, I’m stuck out here in the rain and I’m a wrestler.
Suddenly, one of the doors swings open to expose a massive black male wearing finger-less gloves and a black bandana.
Heroic Henry: Jesus Christ.
Guard: Excuse me?
Heroic Henry: I mean, “Hey”. See, I’m one of the new wrestlers here and I’ve been trying to get into venue to introduce myself to the other dudes, heh, ya’ know?
The guard found zero humor in this and folded his arms while shaking his head “no”. Henry’s smile turned to a morose smirk as he tried to gather his thoughts immediately.
Heroic Henry: May I ask what your name is, sir?
Guard: It’s Jaak.
Heroic Henry: …Like “Jack” and “Jock” conjoined?
Guard: Yes.
Heroic Henry: You know, I have this cousin who’s called Frock. Now, his name is actually Jack, but they conjoined a Star Trek character with a farm animal to make a nickname, or he did, I’m not sure who the wizard is behind the idea. Now, you’d think Jack would get abused and hazed about it in school, right? Hell no! He was on the varsity basketball team and people, in the bleachers? They used to hold up signs that said, “GO FROCK, GO FROCK!” – So, I started to call him Spock because I was, well, I guess I still am, but not really a collector anymore, but I was once a well-known Trekkie and anybody who has an indirect reference to the pointy-eared galactic rock star is cool in my book, ya’ know?
The guard was motionless.
Guard: Are you making fun of my name?
Heroic Henry: What?! No! I was complimenting it!
Guard: I won’t tolerate needless hazing, sir.
Heroic Henry: Neither will I, Jaak.
Guard: It’s big black man to you, sir.
Heroic Henry: You got it, big black man. Can I scooch on into the arena now?
Guard: Do you have a pass?
Heroic Henry: Why would I need a pass?
Guard: Spectators with gold-passes are the only ones allowed in this entrance.
Heroic Henry: I’m a wrestler, though. I’m Heroic Henry! I’ve got my gear in this here duffel bag if you’d like to see.
Guard: Are we going to have a problem here, Frock?
Heroic Henry: …No, wait, that was my friend’s name, not mi---
The guard steps away from the opening and slams the door in Henry’s face. Staring in awe, he stands in front of the door for a couple more minutes to let the realization slip into his veins. He thought about it, and thought about it some more. No guard with name “Jaak” was going to prevent him from getting into the arena. In fact, no one was!
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The “AWC in 2006” logo fills the screen, and then fades away to show a darkened arena. Abrupt fireworks on the stage, cheers, and then the lights suddenly flash bright with the grungy beginnings of “E-Pro” by Beck. The fans in the Van Andel Arena go wild, screaming their lungs out as the video screen bursts into action with highlights of 2005. All the big spots are there: Hate tossing Pierce Lavelle off the bus in the Streets Of London match; Jack Murphy’s flying Bull Charge on Tim Shipley in the Triangles structure; Lavelle’s Whiplash to send Alexander Strider into the fire at Solarized; and many more.
See me coming to town with my soul
Straight down out of the world with my fingers
Holding onto the devil I know
All my troubles will hang on your trigger
Take your eyes and your mind from the road
Shoot your mouth off but look where you’re aiming
Don’t forget to pick up what you sow
Talking trash to the garbage around you
The Transatlantic title belt fills the screen, momentarily fading through to a shot of Adam Dick, a sneer on his face having overcome Pierce Lavelle for the Transatlantic title at the first show of 2006, the gold draped across his shoulder. And then it’s white light.
Truth Waters: HERE’S TO YOU, MRS FRESHINSON!
George Cassidy: Er... excuse Truth, he’s a little retarded...
Truth Waters: And Cassidy’s going to get a little punch in the face if he plays a strong deck! Welcome to Fresh! one and all, and last week’s show is gonna be a tough act to follow. We saw Pierce Lavelle become the the first AWC Legend; we saw Mike Wade become the first pure triple champion; we saw Adam Dick proclaim himself king. None of these are scheduled to have a big presence tonight and this is a simple testament to the amazing range of ability we have in AWC right now. Two of our seven matches tonight will feature more debutants!
George Cassidy: Yeah, the roster really is a little over-full right now. If Pearl and Sasha have any sense they’ll be looking to make cuts... especially considering the money prob---
Truth Waters: SHH! I don’t think the fans at home want to know the nitty-gritty of AWC’s financial situation, Cassidy, ha, ha, ha!
George Cassidy: Why are you laughing? It’s really NOT a laughing matter; we need to start pulling more advertising revenue but if Chainz carries on this way---
Truth Waters: Don’t worry, Cassidy, I'm sure no one would dream of firing such a valuable employee as yourself!
George Cassidy: Why, thanks, Truth!
Pause.
Truth Waters: I w---
George Cassidy: You were joking.
Truth Waters: Mhmm.
George Cassidy: Ah.
New Mission
FEATURING: NORTON & BRIDGES, WILLIAM FERRELL
AUTHOR: YRAN
“Last Week on Fresh!” appears on screen following the “AWC in 2006” logo and then the screen opens to an empty locker room and a scene that wasn’t shown last week on Fresh!. The camera pans around the room and as it reaches the door, Chuck Norton and Russell “Hash Brown” Bridges stroll into the room.
Chuck Norton: We just need to pick our guitars and then we can head to the hotel.
Russ Bridges: It feels so good to be unbeaten.
Chuck Norton: Whatever. Next week I’ll take on ten guys in a row and remain undefeated.
Russ Bridges: Yeah, you wish.
Walking into the centre of the room, both men look towards the corner.
Chuck Norton: Where are they?
Russ Bridges: Did you move them?
Chuck Norton: No! They were there when I brought the bags out.
Russ Bridges: So where did they go?
Looking around the room, the pair fail to see the missing guitars. Looking in the cupboards and behind the loungers there is no sign of the two guitars, Chuck’s prized possession and the new one that was bought by Teresa Tomas as a gift.
Chuck Norton: I bet someone stole them!
Cutting away, the camera finds itself in the corridor of the Van Andel Arena as “Present Day” appears and then quickly disappears on screen. Doing the usual pan from right to left to set the scene, the camera quickly establishes for the viewer that we are located in generic hallway #3. I say #3 as there is a cleaner at the end of the corridor that may or may not play a part in the scene. My bet says that he will.
Finally reaching the end of the camera’s pan, the picture is focused on a set of double doors. Remember the cleaner, no not FREDROCK~! just generic cleaner #5. I know he’s #5 because he has his sleeves rolled up and he is wearing a cap. The cap is most likely being used to hide his secret identity as Ivan Stanislav, but we shall see.
Bursting through the doors, Chuck Norton and Russell Bridges are wearing business suits.
Chuck Norton: First of all we need to find the guitars…
Agreeing, Russ nods his head. The two men are walking at pace down the corridor.
Chuck Norton: We’ll spilt up to find them…
Russ Bridges: Do you really think that’s wise?
Chuck Norton: Why the hell not? If we spilt up we can find them quicker. Russ Bridges: Yes, but if like we suspected and the Russian Mafia have combined with the Irish in an attempt to make millions off of eBay, wouldn’t it be best to be together so that we can fight them?
Chuck Norton: You make a good point…
Still walking Norton & Bridges stop as they reach generic cleaner #5. Careful now it could be Ivan, or maybe even The Educator. No, it couldn’t be The Educator. He’d just stand beside an already clean floor and claim that he cleaned it.
Chuck Norton: Hey there generic cleaner #5.
Looking up the cleaner shakes his head at Chuck and points towards his name badge.
Zooming in…
…the camera focuses on the name…
…and it reads…
IVAN STANISLAV! I KNEW IT! Okay maybe not…
Chuck Norton: William Ferrell?
William Ferrell: That’s right. Unfortunately I have the same name as that jackass actor.
Russ Bridges: Actually I don’t think he was in Jackass. He was Saturday Night Live or something.
William Ferrell: Whatever. What do you want?
Chuck Norton: Seen any stolen guitars?
William Ferrell: What do they look like?
Russ Bridges: Em… guitars?
William Ferrell: With the strings and all?
Russ Bridges: Yeah…
William Ferrell: Nope. But I did see two without the strings.
Chuck Norton: Where?
William Ferrell: About six years ago when I used to live in the dump.
Chuck Norton: And that helps us how?
William Ferrell: I don’t know but it helps me prove I’m the REAL Will Ferrell! I’M THER REAL STAR! IT’S ME!
At this point I should mention for you, the reader, that William Ferrell has broken the fourth wall and is crying down the camera to the viewer.
Chuck Norton: Okay, we had best be going…
William Ferrell: Don’t leave me! I’M RON BURGUNDY! NOT FOR PRO – JUST FOR SHOW! BEWITCHED?!? Okay that sucked… But WEDDING CRASHERS… I, he, he, I was awesome in that!
Chuck Norton: Yeah, so it’s probably best if we stick together. I don’t want to meet another like that on my own…
The Juggernaut (Non)Divine
FEATURING: MADDY ESTELLE, HATE
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
In order to maximize the damage done to your retinas, the segment opens up with an ample shot of Ms Maddy Estelle’s cleavage, which she is in no hurry of concealing. She seems to be bored and confused at the same time, though this should be an easy state of mind to reach with her IQ. She peers past the picture at the cameraman, her lips wrinkled in what probably is a thoughtful expression in her opinion.
Maddy Estelle: Now, he was supposed to arrive five minutes ago… Everybody should be here by now. MY big scoop might walk right past my nose if he doesn’t show up!
In fact, the big scoop of Hate walks behind Estelle and past the camera, not heeding them at all. It takes a few moments for Estelle to catch up with her thoughts and run after Hate, her stiletto heels making it rather difficult. Finally, she manages to grab Hate by his shoulder, a somewhat unwise move as the behemoth now swings his full attention at the woman, snapping at her like at a dog.
Hate: WHAT, you Jezebel?
Maddy Estelle: Um… It’s Estelle, Maddy amongst friends, and…
Hate: Yes, yes, I do know that. How couldn’t I with you pushing yourself onto every man you come across? Spit it out, woman. I do not have the time or the patience tonight.
Maddy Estelle: Well, uh, I do have some questions for you, to get my big scoop…
Hate hushes Maddy by raising a hand, then holding his index finger up. Hate’s face, already painted red, is a stony mask as he speaks, slowly and pronouncing every word like it was a mortuary slab.
Hate: Let me guess. Anton Assault.
Maddy nods, and Hate lets out a low growl, snapping his fingers.
Hate: Nothing about him. What I have done in the last weeks has been somewhat rash and unnecessary on my part. It is… Some personal matters not relating to this place. Look, the thing is simple: the rat he calls a manager comes to me and offends me. I beat him up, then beat that MMA reject in the ring, fair and square. We had a scrap two weeks ago: I lost my cool a week ago. This week? Nothing is going to happen, for I have no interest in dabbling with such degenerates. End of discussion.
Hate turns around to leave, but Maddy lets out a slight yelp, forcing the big man to turn around once more and push his red face right next to Maddy’s.
Hate: Oh, yes. Chainz, right? As far as I am concerned, he can do anything he wants. He can sleep with all the animals of the world and murder every newborn baby he comes across. His antics are amusing, but hardly impressive. It takes a psychopath to kill a woman and a child. But it takes someone entirely different to face down that psychopath and send him packing like a beaten mutt. And I am that man.
Hate shoves Maddy aside and then walks off, leaving the offended woman fixing her hair as the segment ends.
Neurotic vs Mike Carman
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: SELENA SUMNER
AUTHOR: TRENT
James Brunt: The following is a singles match! Introducing first, Mike Carman!
A noise begins to fill the arena and the lights slowly begin to dim. "Stink Fist" by Tool continues to play as Mike Carman appears on the ramp-way.
It's not enough.
I need more.
Nothing seems to satisfy.
I don't want it.
I just need it.
To feel, to breathe, to know I'm alive.
Pyro erupts in front of Carman and he begins to walk down to the ring. He wears black tights with his name running down the sides. He bares no shirt and his hair blankets his face and eyes. Carman puts one hand through his hair and then charges towards the ring. He slides in and waits in the corner.
Truth Waters: Mike Carman looking to rebound here from two weeks ago, where he suffered a defeat at the hands of Darcy Crisis!
George Cassidy: New boy Neurotic’s not about to lie down for him, though!
James Brunt: His opponent, Neurotic!
“Neurotic” by Unloco comes over the speakers and the man with the same name as the song title comes out to a weak boo from the crowd. He walks slowly to the ring and takes his time getting to the apron, but enters eventually.
Truth Waters: Neurotic in his debut here tonight in the first match of Fresh!, and it should be a good one!
George Cassidy: Let’s get rockin!
Official Summers calls for the bell and the match is underway, with Mike Carman attacking early with a knee to Neurotic’s mid-section. Neurotic doubles over only to be slammed to the mat by a DDT from the Carmanator, who holds him in a headlock and drags him to his feet. Carman wrenches hard on his neck, then tosses him back to the canvas, taunting him. Like a man possessed Carman pounces on Neurotic, flailing him with rights and lefts, the crowd getting behind him. He turns and grabs Neurotic by the neck, putting him in a Sleeper Hold, but Neurotic immediately gets on the ropes. He uses the second rope to help him to his feet, but to no avail, because his quick opponent is already coming back off the second ropes. Neurotic turns only to be smashed in the face with a knee strike, sending him tumbling through the ropes. ONE!
Truth Waters: Mike Carman taking early control of this one!
George Cassidy: C’mon, Nero, you’re flopping around like a fish out of water!
Neurotic does seem to be having trouble getting to his feet on the outside, and it doesn’t help that Carman is right back ontop of him. TWO! Carman tosses him hard into the steel steps as he gets a scolding from the referee. THREE! Carman pulls Neurotic to his feet and rolls him into the ring. Carman follows by leaping onto the apron. Carman springboards into the ring and guns for the grounded Neurotic, sticking his leg out to land on his throat, but Neurotic gets out of the way in the nick of time. Carman hits the canvas hard as Neurotic gets a break. Both wrestlers are back to their feet in no time and are struggling in a grapple in mid-ring. Neurotic gets the upper hand with his almost fifty pound advantage in the weight category, forcing him into the turnbuckle, then laying the boots to him. He grabs Carman by the wrist and tosses him into the opposite set of ring cables. Carman beelines back to his opponent and leaps for the cross body, but Neurotic seems to have read him and sticks his right knee up to collide with Carman’s rib cage. Carman falls hard to the canvas and Neurotic jumps on top of him, hooking his leg.
ONE!
Easy kickout from Carman.
George Cassidy: There you go, Nero, turning the tides!
Truth Waters: ... No wonder everybody in AWC have ridiculous nicknames.
George Cassidy: Hey, those were self-inflicted. Nero is badass, anyway.
Neurotic lifts himself up, then brings his knee back down to Carman’s neck, choking him out with his shin. Carman reacts by grabbing Neurotics leg and kicking his own wildly, and eventually shoves his opponent off of him. The Carmanator tries to get to his feet but Neurotic is there to greet him, picking him up in position for a Spinebuster. Before he can bring him down, Carman flips over behind and lands on his feet, but stumbles. This gives Neurotic enough time to realize his miscue and turn around, then run at Carman with the clothesline. Carman ducks the clothesline and is close enough to the ropes so the leaping Neurotic is hung up on the top rope, stumbles back out and Carman rolls him up from behind into a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Neurotic barely gets out as the fans give a cheer for Carman.
Truth Waters: Carman almost pulled a sly one there on Neurotic, he’ll have to be careful!
George Cassidy: Rookie mistake, Nero! You know better than that!
Although he didn’t get the three count, something good came out of that for Carman as he is back on the offense and goes right to work, shoving Neurotic against the ropes and whipping him into the opposite cables. Neurotic comes back right into Carman’s trap. Carman heaves the bigger man onto his hip and hits a Sidewalk Slam.
Truth Waters: Carman trying to beat Nero... I mean, Neurotic, at his own game!
George Cassidy: Couldn’t be good, Carman should try and keep this game in the air.
As if this is a cue, Carman follows the impressive Slam by climbing to the top ropes. He jumps off and does a little acrobat and lands a Frog Splash on Neurotic. However, Carman seemed to have landed awkwardly and gets up quickly, limping away.
Truth Waters: Carman looks to have hurt his knee! Damn, you’re just walking bad luck, aren’t you, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: I don’t know, I’m pretty lucky...
Truth Waters: You kidding me? You haven’t got laid in 10 years!
George Cassidy: Well, there was this one tim- hey!... Shut up!
Mike Carman fights off the minor knee pain from his awkward landing and drops to his opponent, hooking the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Neurotic kicks out quickly and Carman is slow to his feet, almost weary from the tiring Frog Splash. He weakly brings Neurotic to his feet and loses his handle on the match for it as Neurotic gives him a couple of quick shots to the mid-section. Carman doubles over in a helpless position and Neurotic straddles him. He lifts him up and slams him back down with a strong powerbomb.
Truth Waters: Nice little power move from the rookie!
George Cassidy: But a rookie mistake, he should’ve kept him in position for the pin.
Cassidy is somewhat right, for Neurotic lets go of Carman momentarily, then drops down and pins him with one knee on his chest.
ONE!
TWO!
Carman throws his shoulder into the air, breaking the count. Neurotic gets back up for a split second then bring his knee back down hard into Carman’s trachea.
Truth Waters: Jesus! He’s going to break his ribs!
George Cassidy: Yeah, he’s a little neurotic, if you know what I mean.
Nero follows this relentless attack by rolling Carman over, then slapping on the Cross Face Chicken Wing. He pulls hard on Carman’s arm, who is screaming in pain. The crowd rallies behind Carman and after a good thirty seconds of submission Carman finds a way to grab onto the rope. ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! Neurotic lets off the pressure before the official can disqualify him, but drags Carman back into the middle of the ring. He stomps Carman a couple of times, wearing him down, then Neurotic goes over to the top rope. He climbs up to level three, then comes falling back down towards his opponent with his elbow poised to do some damage. Carman rolls out of the way very late ... sort of. With Carman positioned on his side, Neurotic’s elbow slams into his back but the rest of the attacker’s body hits the canvas hard. Both wrestlers are down. ONE!
Truth Waters: Don’t see that too often!
George Cassidy: Either you dodge it or you take it like a man, c’mon!
TWO! THREE! Both wrestlers are stirring. FOUR! Mike Carman is the first to his feet, but is still trying to shake out the cobwebs. Neurotic is up in time to square off with his opponent, and Mike Carman gets a boost of momentum and goes for a big right hand. Neurotic grabs it in the nick of time, then delivers a right boot right to Carman’s mid-section. Neurotic wrenches Carman into a Suplex position, then lifts him high into the air. He stalls a little too long and Carman slips out of it, and on his way down, wraps his right arm around Neurotic’s head from behind and hits a Reverse DDT!
Truth Waters: Mike Carman showing some style!
George Cassidy: The singles match is going to go out of style if these two go on any longer.
Truth Waters: What’s wrong with you? This is a decent match!
George Cassidy: The only decent match in AWC is an Unfuckable one!
Mike Carman falls onto Neurotic for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Neurotic gets his shoulder up just in time! Carman slaps the mat in anger, but leaves no time for hesitation as he applies an Arm Stretch to Neurotic. The usual procedure follows, with Neurotic screaming in pain. He manages to stretch his leg out and onto the ropes. As Summers yells at Carman to release the hold, Carman loosens his grip on his opponent to kick his foot off the ropes, but this gives Neurotic enough time to scramble out of the submission. Carman is back to his feet. Neurotic is running towards the Carmanator but the latter grabs ahold of Neurotic’s wrist as a reverse. He tries to whip Neurotic back into the ring cables, but Neurotic doesn’t let to of Carman’s wrist, and pulls a quick reverse of his own by blindsiding Carman with a Short-Arm Clothesline!
Truth Waters: Neurotic capitalising on a good sequence there.
George Cassidy: (not paying attention) Nero... ahaha. I kill myself.
Neurotic nonchalantly brings Carman to his feet, but Carman is full conscious and elbows Neurotic in the stomach, then brings his arm back and grabs Neurotic in a 3/4 Facelock.
Truth Waters: He’s trying for the Carman Cutter!
George Cassidy: Not on Nero’s watch...
Nero is just as aware as his opponent is, however, and uses his hands to push Carman off from behind before he can execute his Set-Up. Carman hits the ropes and comes back at Neurotic, but is dropkicked in the stomach. The winded Carman doubles over, stumbling backwards.
Truth Waters: Carman got Demised!
George Cassidy: What? That is his finisher?
Truth Waters: Nope, but this is!
Neurotic is on his feet quickly and pursues the doubled-up Carman, then shoves him between his legs. He hooks both of Carmen’s arms and hits him with the Self Infliction (Double Underhook Powerbomb)!
Truth Waters: Self Infliction!
George Cassidy: I’m going to have to talk to that guy, we’re going to have to arrange for a new finisher name. Something along the lines of “Nero”, I’m thinking.
Truth Waters: Well, your pal’s just about to wrap this match up...
Neurotic holds both of Carman’s legs in a pin following his finisher and Selena Summers drops to the mat for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: Impressive debut from Neurotic, and it ends up under the win column.
Neurotic gets up and smirks to the displeasure of the crowd, who boos slightly. Neurotic seems pleased that he at least got their attention as Summers raises his hand in the air.
James Brunt: The winner... Neurotic!
Truth Waters: And with a good first match already out of the way, this Fresh! looks to be just as good as the weeks before!
George Cassidy: As long as we don’t have another incident like last week, I’ll be happy.
Truth Waters: Speaking of which, that will sure to be one of the topics on everyone’s mind this evening. Stay fresh, everybody, we’ll be back!
The Quest For Entrance II
FEATURING: HEROIC HENRY
AUTHOR: JOE HAYNES
We return to Henry’s quandaries. Previously, he made an effort to coax a buffed-up, highly pissed-off guard named Jaak to let him inside the arena. Rejecting Henry’s offer of friendship, Jaak slammed the back entrance door in Henry’s happy-go-lucky face and went back to his previous affairs. At this point, Henry figured the guy was just a random douche bag who had no intentions of meeting new people. Either that, or he himself came off strange and bit too forward in his attempts to make friends. He personally couldn’t believe Mr. T. didn’t let him in the building in the first place. Was this the owner’s doing? I mean, don’t these frickin’ guards get V.I.P lists that they attached to clipboards in case of such incident? Henry didn’t know and he wasn’t about to wait another minute thinking about it.
Heroic Henry: Guard isn’t going to let me in, so I’ll let myself in. Yeah, yeah, that’s all, I’ll just let myself in!
Running along side of the massive event building, he notices a couple of cars drive past the gates. He can only see streaks of colors as the gates aren’t built with individual poles, but more with concrete slabs that have incredibly small cracks in between each other. Reaching the forefront of the gate, Henry stealthy creeps towards the side to get a better view. Nobody was standing guard, which meant the show must’ve started, but how long ago? Was the show, in fact, over? Henry had no concept of time because he didn’t wear a watch and the clock in his car caught on fire two weekends ago, reason still unknown.
Heroic Henry: I’VE GOT A BOMB!
Whoa, you asshole. What are you doing? In order to get attention, you announce to those in an acceptable radius from you that you have a bomb? You do know that there is such things as cops and prison and tolerance? Well, when it comes to bomb threats, tolerance dies.
Hmm. You’re right. That was a really stupid idea.
I know I’m right. I’m your conscience.
Like in that Eminem video?
Well, yes. The only exception is that you’re not a fifteen year old girl that’s about to have unprotected sex with a forty-two year old man in a stranger’s house. And, I’m not Dr. Dre.
Henry smacks his head and runs in the other direction until he sees an emergency ladder attached to the building. He didn’t notice it before because it’s blending in with the color of the building. That and he was occupied with brainstorming that horrid plan of his. He scurries over towards the ladder and looks up. Before this, Henry was fine with heights, but the vertical presence this ladder showed off was shaking him up a bit.
Just do it. Listen, if you don’t do this, when are you ever going to get your ass inside the arena to show of your super heroic abilities!?
Well, it’s not like I actually have powers, buddy.
….
Just trying to be your spirit, I’d appreciate a little help on your part.
My bad.
Don’t worry about it. Just climb the ladder and look like an ass as you fall through a plate of glass, into one of the halls inside the building.
What’s that?
The ladder. Go to it…
Yes, right, the ladder.
Henry puts one of his feet on the first metal slab and starts his climb to the top. A pound of sweat falls from his forehead in the process and he comes close to crying twice before snapping out of it. The ground seems so small by the time Henry reaches the thirteenth, ahem, step and rolls onto the top. He recovers and gets to his feet, scanning the building for a door, a weather hole, another ladder, or a sun roof. Wait, there WAS a sun roof! Henry runs over towards the glass portion of the roof and tries to get his fingers in the cracks to pry it open. What Henry doesn’t know is this is ACTUAL glass and not the hockey-style plexi-glass. Meaning, this stuff isn’t going to budge with the strength of a couple of fingers, but Henry didn’t know this and continued to do his thing, no matter how faulty that thing may have been at the time.
A couple of minutes go by and he finds the operation unsuccessful.
Heroic Henry: This is just great. I arrive, unscheduled for a match, to do my part in introducing myself to the rest of the guys and I get locked. What the f---
Henry slams his foot down on the glass and unknowingly shatters a massive fraction, sucking one of his legs and one of his arms into the hole.
Heroic Henry: Aww… shit!
I’d even use “fuck” at this point, or maybe even “frock”.
The rest of the glass breaks, sending Henry plummeting into the building and onto one of the carpeted hallways, ass-first. The glass continues to fall on him before he rolls out of its way, staring in complete awe of what he had done on his first night in AWC.
Heroic Henry: I’m in!
He gets up and starts to limp down the hallway.
Heroic Henry: I may have broken my hip, but Heroic Henry has made it to the Van Andel Arena in Grand Rapids, Michigan!
With a broken hip and some hefty glass bills to pay.
There was no doubt, in anybody’s mind, that this was the start of something… the start of something… HEROIC! And… um… SUPER! And... A LOT OF OTHER ADJECTIVES! That are long and satisfying.. And… yep.
Snow Monkeys... Yes...
FEATURING: MADDY ESTELLE, CELESTIAL FURY
AUTHOR: TASO
Maddy Estelle: I'm here with the newest tag team in AWC, Celestial Fury! Tonight you have a match against Norton & Bridges. Do your problems with The Furious Fists of God cause any concern or distraction from your match tonight?
The Green Grappler: Let me introduce myself! I am the one they call... The Wizard of Odd! The Masked Mauler! Mister Wrestling 2006! Are we on Galavision by any chance, my dear? El Grappler Verde por mis amigos! And le---
Megumi Hamada pushes Grapps back and steps in front of him.
Butterfly Hamada: Listen very carefully to me. Listen very carefully, Tim and Liam Martin. And listen... to the world around you... for the time is coming. Across the sky there will come a piercing sound so guttural and bleak, the Gods in heaven will cease the very ticking of natures clock. Rivers will run uphill and the icecaps will crack and thaw in moments. Glaciers that travel inches per century will break free of their ancient shackles and tumble down in a destructive wave of complete devastation. The snow monkeys of the Nagano monkeys will shrill as if the black leopard has entered their home, and the sweetest of rose orchids will blacken on the vine with the coming of my wrath. The mortal screams of a thousand men dying will be followed by the breaking of the holy trinity. And I will lay down one torn body after another, a staircase of bones and sinew, and I will climb over all that stands before me. When I get my hands upon those two vulgar pieces of trash, hell will tremble and heaven will crumble. Their very existence is an abomination of everything I know to be good and pure. Extinction is too good for those two. Eradication, is but a slap on the wrist. I will break their bodies and cast them down into the pits of hell they so readily reserve for everyone but themselves. And from their mortal flesh I will wring two cups, fill them with the sweetest nectar the Celestial Bureaucracy will afford my friend and I, and we will drink to the end of The Furious Fists. %$#^! @#$%!
Maddy Estelle: Oh my...
With that Butterfly Hamada storms off. The Green Grappler looks dumbstruck.
The Green Grappler: I would NOT want to be those two.
Maddy Estelle: Definitely not. How about your match tonight? Megumi seems preoccupied with The Fists.
The Green Grappler: I have traveled with her these past two weeks and... um... well, she scares me! But, Maddy my dear, believe me when I tell you that Butterfly Hamada does not overlook anything or anyone. Now, what match?
Maddy Estelle: Norton & Bridges?
The Green Grappler: Ah YES! The lavender cowboys! The two rejects from Bareback Mountain! Elvis Presley is turning in his grave as we speak, whenever those two strum a guitar with their limp wristed limbs! The last time I heard them sing a song it felt like someone had kicked me in the nuts so hard I had to create a time machine to go back to see Jesus and have Him perform a miracle to get them out of my throat! After listening to those two this week ramble on about absolutely nothing of any interest whatsoever, I doused myself with gasoline and tried to order a poo-poo platter from the Chinese restaurant. I would rather eat a jarful of jalapeno peppers, drink a quart of Tabasco sauce, dine upon a live porcupine, and follow that with a bottle of ex-lax and insert three dozen suppositories up my arsehole then ever have to listen to Norton & Bridges attempt to rip open the time/space continuum with their ear-drum piercing caterwauling, do you understand me Maddy?
Maddy Estelle: I guess so…
The Green Grappler: And their insults, poorly directed at me, I might add, carry the weight of a 12 year old Olympic gymnasts bowel movements, comprende?
Maddy Estelle: Yes, I got that one.
The Green Grappler: Good, now if you will excuse me, I must prepare for my grand entrance tonight. My introduction to the AWC must be extravagant and on the level on only the greatest entertainers in the wrestling business, ever. I am sure Norton & Bridges will be more then adequately prepared to come to the ring to the sound of a cat licking his butthole, but The Green Grappler comes to the ring like a SUPERSTAR! Adios, my sweet!
Grapps pulls out a bouquet of flowers from his wrist, a very cheesy magic trick, presents them to Maddy, and walks away.
I Lost To Aimz And All I Got Was This Crappy Venereal Disease
FEATURING: THE UNFUCKABLES, JACK MURPHY
AUTHORS: JOE SCHMIDT AND FERGUS
King Dick.
Pffft. Some King.
Adam, sitting inside the unusually quiet Unfuckables locker room, doesn’t find himself flanked around the dozens of women he imagined a person in his position would be.
No, instead he is whining. His crown isn’t on his head; it’s in his hands. All he can do is stare at it. All of the jewels. The inscriptions. The imperfections. Transatlantic king.
And he lost.
TO A GIRL.
Wait, not to a girl.
TO AIMZ.
Mike Wade: Come on, man. Cheer up! We’re the strangle hold on this bitch.
Adam doesn’t really welcome his Triple Champ Partner with the enthuse he’d hoped.
Adam Dick: Yeah yeah, I know. We rule.
Mike Wade: That’s not very enthusiastic. Where’s the spirit? Where’s the Unfuckable pride.
Jack Murphy: Probably down the toilet.
Both men turn their eyes to the doorway with scowls on their faces. Yes, Jack Murphy decided to grace them with his presence.
Jack Murphy: I mean, that’s where mine would be if I lost to a woman. Being Transatlantic champ and all.
Mike Wade: Didn’t YOU lose a match last week? For a title belt? Well, seeing as we have all the gold in this company, it must have been to one of us — oh yeah, it was me. Now piss off---
Jack Murphy: Easy pal, I wanted to congratulate you on a great match. But your partner, well, it looks like he could be using some of that luck of yours. You’d better hope he doesn’t lose your tag titles tonight.
Adam now interjects, angrily.
Adam Dick: Fuck you, Potototato shit fucker. You’re just jealous because I’m sniffing your Russian Cheddar.
Jack Murphy: Actually, I think you’re a fluke and a phony. And with that loss to Aimz you’ve more than proved that you’re a sure shot at that Transatlantic title. It’s just about who gets it first.
Jack begins to walk out, but Adam jumps to his feet.
Adam Dick: You think you’re such a tough shit? Didn’t you lose to that bitch, like, three weeks ago?
Jack Murphy: I’ve never lost to Aimz---
Adam Dick: Not that bitch, the other bitch! The geeky one.
Jack Murphy: ...I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Adam Dick: Yeah, right, fuck off and practice what you preach, Medicine Man. You think you’re worthy, why don’t you prove that to more than yourself first.
Jack scoffs as he returns to his leave.
Adam Dick: Pffft. What an Irish bastard.
Mike Wade: Aye. He did congratulate me though.
Adam Dick: Fuck that.
You Big Alcohol Drinker You!
FEATURING: NORTON & BRIDGES, TERESA TOMAS
AUTHOR: YRAN
“Any luck?”
“Nope.”
With Hash Brown Bridges sliding out of the girl’s toilets, Chuck Norton quickly abandoned the look-out position he had taken up at the door.
Chuck Norton: They are definitely not in there…
Russ Bridges: Not at all…
Chuck Norton: Dammit! So they’re not in the corridors, not in the toilets and not in the parking lot… Where else could they be?
Russ Bridges: In someone’s locker room?
Chuck Norton: Don’t be stupid! That’s too likely…
Russ Bridges: But likely is good…
Chuck Norton: Eureka! They must be under the ring!
Russ Bridges: What?
Chuck Norton: Someone has hid them under the ring…
Russ Bridges: Why would someone want to do that?
“Hey guys…”
The conversation between Norton & Bridges cuts off at the sound of another voice and the camera pans around the see Teresa Tomas walking the other way with a huge smile on her face.
Norton & Bridges: Hey!
Teresa Tomas: So how do you guys like your new guitar?
Chuck Norton: Oh very funny, you stupid bitch!
Teresa Tomas: What?
Russ Bridges: Oh yeah… You’re hilarious! Buying me a new guitar and then stealing it back…
Chuck Norton: What’s wrong? Need the money for alcohol… You big alcohol drinker you!
Oh yes, only the finest insults from Norton & Bridges. Teresa Tomas looks absolutely stunned as she stands in silence watching the two guys.
Teresa Tomas: What are you on about?
Chuck Norton: You have obviously stole our guitars after you broke Russ’ guitar two weeks ago…
Teresa Tomas: No I didn’t! I bought that guitar as I like you guys and want to be friends with you guys!
Chuck Norton: You did?
Teresa Tomas: But I guess I don’t really know what I was thinking now…
In a fit of complete pissed-off-ness, that’s a word, Teresa Tomas storms past Norton & Bridges into the bathrooms that Russ had just finished checking.
Russ Bridges: You think she did it?
Chuck Norton: Of course she did… If I know women, which I do, she obviously is trying to through us off with her strop. But I see right through it…
Russ Bridges: I don’t know. I believe her.
Chuck Norton: What would you know? You’ve never seen a woman in your life…
Just Shoot Me
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD
AUTHOR: SAM LANDRY
Sarah Kennedy is in the halls of backstage, rummaging through some shit, probably pictures of that GORGEOUS Sam Landry’s ass. Suddenly, the Furious Fists walk by, talking about something. Kennedy looks up and sees them and then back at the pictures.
Sarah Kennedy: Oh Sam… I’ll be back to you later… (puts the pictures away and turns towards the Fists) LIAM! TIM! Can I have a word!
Liam turns around abruptly and angrily grabs the microphone away from Kennedy.
Liam Martin: Vile wench, the only thing I want your mouth doing is…
Tim Martin: EASY BROTHER! Let us not get our temptations carried away because of some jezebel like this! Now, Kennedy, while I have no intention of making any babies out of wedlock at the moment, I do have some words for… ahem… our opponents tonight. It is just CONVENIENT you are here right now. Now, please, run off before we do something biblical or horrible.
Sarah Kennedy: Like what?!
Liam Martin: DO NOT QUESTION, BITCH, OBEY!
Sarah Kennedy stands there for a minute angrily, but then turns away, knowing she’ll be able to go pleasure herself while thinking about that beautiful Sam Landry, who is evidently too wrapped up in his adolescent and slightly freakish fantasy to realise she’s, like, SO better than him and perhaps he should set his sights on a more realistic target like Maddy Estelle. As the camera goes to follow her, fingers pull the camera back to the Fists. They turn out to be the fingers of Liam Martin, with Tim standing there, shaking his head.
Tim Martin: No, camera man, you cannot give into temptation. You must stand here and be the deliverer of our gospel on…
Liam Martin: It is tough to say, brother, but you must…
Tim Martin: Ok… THE UNFUCKABLES!
Both the brothers wince after Tim says the name.
Tim Martin: The name is tough to let slip off my tongue… the sin associated with these foul beings doesn’t only hurt my soul, but I’m sure it hurts the soul of all you.
Liam Martin: Not only do these sinners use women for RAPE and SEX and VAGINA JOY… but they feel no regret!
Tim Martin: Don’t they know that a woman’s role is to spit out White Lord Lovers DURING marriage, and then to make food? For life?!
Liam Martin: Apparently not.
Tim Martin: Yes, apparently. But I can move beyond that. I can accept that they womanize and, maybe, just maybe, accept them as human beings.
Liam Martin: Tim, my brother, what is happening? Are you sick? Have you been watching Cosby?
Tim Martin: Oh Liam, let me explain! You see, Liam, I have realized that Adam Dick and Mike Wade are the champions of… well… everything. I have realized that they are, indeed, the superior force.
Liam Martin: So, what will you do about it, Tim?
Tim Martin: What will *I* do about it? Just me? Oh, no, brother… you see, tonight, both you *AND* I will be doing something about it. We have a match… a title match, at that. But this is not just any other match. Tonight, Liam, we begin… a crusade.
Liam Martin: Psst… Didn’t we already do this? Remember? Paddy? Ellis? Ring any bells?
Tim Martin: Psst… QUIET! Ahem. What was that Liam? Nothing? Anyways, tonight, Liam, we begin a crusade. Win or lose, from now on we fight for a cause.
Liam Martin: A cause?
Tim Martin: Yes… the CLEANSING of the AWC!
The two brothers pause, nodding with comfortable smiles on their faces.
Tim Martin: Tonight will be the first step. We will start at the top, with the two most successful and, yet, grossest sinners of them all… the… UNFUCKABLES!
They wince. Hard.
Tim Martin: We must strike them down, we must break them. We must rip their arms from their torsos and feed them to the hounds of Hell. We must show the rest of this league of sinners that the Furious Fists of God have the power of the WHITE LORD behind them…
Liam Martin: And what if we lose, Tim?
Tim Martin: A loss? It is likely… the powers of the demons are strong with them. They could defeat us now, it is a possibility. But, you see, like all sons of the Lord, we will come back victorious. Down the road we will smite these foes again.
Liam Martin: Tim, that sounds excellent. But… but how do we continue this conquest?
Tim Martin: Win or lose, we move on. At Bloodlust, our next foes need to be demolished. It is The Green Grappler and Butterfly Hamada. They have been nothing but fools to us. So…
Liam Martin: Tim! Do not ruin the surprise!
Tim Martin: I think these idiots can even inference to where I am going…
Liam Martin: THEN LET THEM SUFFER IN SUSPENSE!
Tim Martin: No, you see… fine. They’ll suffer…
Liam Martin: THE WHITE LORD WINS!
Tim Martin: Erm… right. Now that we’re past that, moving onto… that whore…
Liam Martin: Oh Tim, there are so many.
Tim Martin: But there is one in particular in which YOU decided to give…
Liam Martin: THAT ELLIS NASH?! FOUL BITCH! FOUL, FOUL BITCH!
Tim Martin: Yes, I know. Foul indeed. Ellis, last week my idiot brother gave you a strap on dildo that he thought was God. I remind you because I assume all the man-juice you swallowed out of wedlock like the prostitute you are has spurned your memory.
Liam Martin: Gross.
Tim Martin: I know, isn’t she? So, we have decided to help you find salvation. We feel bad. A woman like yourself with a nice, loose vagina you have between your legs is capable of spitting out tons of White Lord loving babies.
Liam Martin: Though prophets like Tim and I would never touch you.
Tim Martin: Oh, never. But, maybe a regular White Lord loving man might. But for that to happen, you have to stop lodging things into there such as that dildo, water melons, stereo systems... the list goes on. Look, you like being a vile skank, it is your nature… but unless you think you’ll enjoy an eternity of Milli Vanilli, I’d suggest, for starters, getting rid of that dildo!
Liam Martin: It’ll help, whore.
Tim Martin: And that wraps up everything we’d like to address you people with. Later tonight we’ll say hello to Butterfly, but for tonight, for the…
Liam Martin: UNFUCKABLES!
Wince~!
Tim Martin: …yes, them… we have a final warning. Whether it is tonight, whether it is in the future, you will be destroyed. You will be dismantled, you will be broken. The powers of the White Lord will overcome your demonic ways any day, any time, any where. Say what you will, for I know that all you two say are lies and foul, foul things. But ask yourself this: When the crusade starts, will Satan have your side? Because the only thing God has planned for you is… to die.
Liam Martin: May God have mercy on your souls.
The two brothers shake their heads and turn around, dropping the microphone and walking away from the camera. They move slowly, looking straight ahead as they move.
Charles Kensrue vs Darcy Crisis
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHORS: PIERRE HYDE AND JAMIE FLETCHER
George Cassidy: Our second match of seven tonight is going to feature Darcy Crisis against Sean Asp- no, wait, Charles Ken- Ken- Kensomething.
Truth Waters: Kensrue...
George Cassidy: Bless you.
"Hide your face forever...
Dream and search forever..."
A heavy guitar riff hits, marking the opening of "Open Your Eyes" by the Guano Apes. Darcy Crisis bursts through the curtain with his arm raised high. He points at the fans who give him the biggest reactions, trying to get everybody fired up.
Truth Waters: Of course, Darcy Crisis is at the centre of a storyline with Aimz, and it all revolves around the history between those two in Pier Six Wrestling some time ago. The interaction between the two has been... enthralling... captivating...
George Cassidy: Crap...
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from East Bay, California... weighing in at 227 pounds, DARCY CRISIS!
Crisis slides into the ring under the ropes, taking in the fan reaction for a few moments before climbing the turnbuckle, thumping his chest twice and throwing both arms into the air.
Truth Waters: Despite having only two wins under his belt, Crisis is a big presence here in AWC, arguably making that felt most last week on Fresh! when he took a shot for Aimz.
George Cassidy: Can’t they just, like, kiss or something?
Truth Waters: I think Crisis has already made clear that those aren’t his intentions – though whether this is simply a front, I don’t know...
George Cassidy: Aimz should take him and be happy with it. She’d be lucky to get even a bed-wetter like Darcy Crisis.
Truth Waters: How can you describe him that way when you’re the biggest pussy known to man?!
“Music Box” by Thrice is playing as Charles Kensrue now strolls down to the ring, the renamed Sean Aspinall, former Core Wrestling Classic champion, copping a light wash of cheers from the crowd.
Truth Waters: Sean Aspinall drew many comparisons with two-time AWC Frontier champion Tim Shipley in his time with Core, and now under a new name he’s followed Shipley to AWC intent on making a name for himself.
George Cassidy: Cashing in on Shipley? Now that’s desperate.
Truth Waters: I actually spoke to Shipley a week or two back...
George Cassidy: Well congratulations?
Truth Waters: ...He didn’t exactly seem full of enthusiasm about the possibility of returning to AWC, unfortunately. Shippers undertook pretty major spinal surgery after two vertebrae were partially severed by those helixes of steel at the vineyard back at Winter Warfare... turned out more serious than we first thought.
George Cassidy: Shame...
Truth Waters: (hotly) Oh, have a bit of respect for a change! He might have seemed boring to you but these fans were growing to love him, and Tim Shipley was a future Transatlantic champion!
George Cassidy: Yeah, if Dick, Wade, Nash, Hate, O’Shea, Murphy, Vince Jones and Chainz all suddenly left...
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Langley, British Columbia, Canada, weighing in at 190 pounds... “INTREPID” CHARLES KENSRUE!
George Cassidy: So he was in the CIA? I can believe that, actually. He looks a little... nerdy.
With Kensrue and the undefeated Crisis both in the ring and checks by senior referee Michael Ryan completed, the bell rings, and the match gets underway with both men pacing around the ring. Crisis is visibly sizing up the newcomer, and to him, the signs are good – three inches and 37 pounds make up the Californian’s advantage – as evidenced by the slight smile forming on his face. But what Kensrue may lack in height, he will strive to show us he makes up for in initiative and agility, as he surprised Crisis with a sudden duck and dive to place a chop block behind Crisis’ knee.
George Cassidy: Charles Kensrue can’t wait to get this match going, after his pretty sizeable absence from pro wrestling.
Truth Waters: The last time he was in action was in the Giant Haystacks Invitational at The Battle Of Britain, as Sean Aspinall... that wasn’t exactly his finest hour.
George Cassidy: I’d completely forgotten about that...
Truth Waters: Probably as he would have intended!
Feeling his left leg buckle, Crisis brings the flat of his right arm down diagonally, impatiently, as if swatting a fly, but Kensrue is able to ignore the blow to his shoulder as he grabs Crisis’ boot and tweaks to complete the unbalancing of his opponent. He tumbles to the mat, landing abruptly yet gracefully on his posterior, his boot still being held by Charles Kensrue, who now leaps up to his feet – but before he can make anything of his hold on Crisis’ foot, the other shoots into his abdomen, the sudden impact winding the Canadian. Gasping, Kensrue doubles up, clearly not having anticipated the blow from the resistant Darcy Crisis, who now backs up and uses the ropes to resume a vertical position.
Truth Waters: Darcy Crisis with a whole lot of fight in him.
Wasting no time, with Kensrue now flustered, Crisis steams in with an arm raised. The clothesline lacks power but its accuracy is perfect, and the 190-pounder is unable to stop himself from being forced to the canvas. A moment later, an elbow embeds itself in his solar plexus, and Crisis now spins away to raise his arms, ignoring the wire fence to encourage the cheers coming his way from the fans.
Truth Waters: Despite a confusing and a little peculiar relationship with Aimz – who has not been forgiven by the fans for her anti-PCW stance in a short-lived feud with the former stars of that promotion who are wrestling here: Paddy O’Shea, Red Rock, and most notably in that case Andy Murray – Darcy Crisis has been a popular figure ever since he first appeared in AWC before Christmas.
George Cassidy: It’s the hardcore who got the word out – I hear Pier Six tapes are circulating; a couple of bucks buys you a collection of the best Darcy Crisis matches from that promotion. What the fans don’t realise is while Crisis was on top there – he was the pick of a pretty shitty roster.
With Kensrue now on his feet, Crisis launches right in to tie up, and the ensuing test of strength is bitterly fought but clearly falling in his favour. Kensrue, desperate to change this somehow, flicks a boot against Crisis’ knee; the blow is not damaging in itself, but it breaks the 227-pounder’s concentration enough for Kensrue to get free and send a snap kick into his sternum. Crisis drops at once to hands and knees, and “Intrepid” Charles Kensrue’s immediate reaction is to hop up onto the second rope. The cable bends downwards and outwards as the lightweight springboards off, spinning 180 degrees in the air to come down over Crisis’ shoulders with a leg, forcing his head into the mat!
Truth Waters: That itself was pretty “Intrepid” from our debutant!
George Cassidy: Switch springboard leg drop, and that’s ensured Darcy Crisis is going to bed tonight with a headache.
Keeping his grip on Crisis’ hand Kensrue drags him into the middle of the ring, spinning his arm over along the way. This keeps Crisis suppressed maintaining Kensrue’s dominance in the match. Crisis rises attempting to gain some stability but his attempt is in vain, Charles Kensrue automatically drives his knee up and through the head of Crisis knocking him back of balance. Crisis falls backwards to the mat and looks helpless, Kensrue breaks the hold throwing Crisis’ hand down to the mat and then on the spot he performs a standing shooting star press which gets a little pop from the crowd but there is enough time for Crisis to lift his knees into the air and counter the move.
Truth Waters: Great agility by Kensrue, but Crisis had the quickness of mind to counter with his knees!
George Cassidy: Kensrue might be looking at some bruised ribs after that, and let me tell you, those can be painful...
Truth Waters: And you know this HOW?
Charles Kensrue shoots off of Crisis’ legs and into the air. Darcy gets up and like a bullet travels towards Kensrue barging him into the corner of the ring. Using his size and extra weight Crisis is able to dominate Charles Kensrue efficiently, each blow placed in precisely the correct place. Finally after he feels Kensrue has been tamed enough Crisis taking him by the hand throws him across the ring. However it is a misjudgement by Darcy Crisis; Charles Kensrue tips up off of the opposite turnbuckle and using his high flying abilities lands perfectly behind Crisis.
Truth Waters: Oh! Nice.
George Cassidy: If Crisis isn’t careful the newbie will be running rings around him.
In place before Crisis can turn Kensrue is able to take full advantage. Reaching out Kensrue’s arms grab a shoulder each, then rocking back in the air Kensrue extends his feet to Crisis stomach. Then using all his strength Kensrue throws Crisis over his head and to the mat with a monkey flip. Then again demonstrating further athletic ability Charles Kensrue flips up onto his feet without using his hands.
George Cassidy: Show-off.
Truth Waters: The fans are definitely going for it!
Kensrue poses for the crowd obviously happy with his efforts on his first outing at AWC. His celebration goes on too long as Crisis takes him down from behind with double fist axe handle smash. Crisis follows the assault up with a sharp German suplex… Michael Ryan slides down onto his knees but Crisis isn’t satisfied, he follows through with the suplex lifting Kensrue back onto his feet.
Truth Waters: Doubling up with another Germ-
George Cassidy: No! Kensrue flips over onto his feet.
Kensrue pushes Crisis forward into the ropes; Crisis snatches hold of the ropes and Kensrue’s momentum power move is foiled. Not giving Charles Kensrue enough time to consider a follow up Crisis angles his elbow then motioning it forward into the face of Kensrue he forces the breaking of the lock.
George Cassidy: Eh, smart work by Crisis, I have to say...
Charles Kensrue is left wide open for a second, Crisis draws back his hand… winds it up like a retarded baseball pitcher and wooooo!!! Slap… or chop…! The smaller body of Kensrue soaks up the pain. The AWC crowd loves a good chop fest and the chants of “Let’s Go (insert name here)” divide the arena and a war is born!
Truth Waters: This is a pretty unique scenario... both wrestlers garnering equal amounts of attention from a decidedly split crowd! Wish we had more conflicts of this type...
WOOOO!!! Kensrue strikes back… (No not a new Star Wars movie) He literally strikes back, leaving his mark as well.
Truth Waters: Kensrue may be smaller but I bet he can pump steel; the density of his muscle is a little greater than what you see on Crisis.
George Cassidy: Sorry, I don’t get so much of a kick out of staring closely at male bodies.
However Crisis continues, his arms bigger and causing much more visible effects on the chest of Kensrue. Crisis roars and it’s on, they go to town on one another… chop after chop… scream after scream… the pain they suffer loved by the crowd who are feeding of the energy and the passion the two men are putting into the contest.
George Cassidy: If this carries on they’ll both be raw across the chest...
Truth Waters: Sorry, I don’t get so much of a kick out of –
George Cassidy: Oh, shut up.
Both men stop – neither throws another strike, neither lifts his hand up to hit the other. The camera pans in on each man’s chest to show the extent of devastation the chopping battle has caused. The crowd goes nuts as the video screen exposes the extent of the damage to them, the two men look at one another and then Charles Kensrue puts his hand up placing out in the open for a handshake… it is accepted by Darcy to an ovation from the live crowd who appreciate the display these two warriors are putting on in an attempt to get noticed in this packed Fresh!.
Truth Waters: Sportsmanship... now that is always welcome in the game.
Crisis and Kensrue both step out, sizing each other up once more, and it’s difficult to ascertain which is worse for wear. Crisis clearly fancies his chances, however, as he moves in with a collar-and-elbow and swiftly goes around behind Kensrue. Squirming out of his grip, Kensrue inadvertently catches his leg in between those of his opponent and starts to pitch forward, but with lightning reactions Crisis snakes his arms around the shorter man’s head.
Truth Waters: Oh and out of nowhere, we’re looking at...
Crisis switches his sleeper hold out into a reverse DDT!
Truth Waters: THE MIND CRISIS!
George Cassidy: There it is! Crisis could have it!
Not having to move significantly from the position in which he fell, Crisis holds the shoulders of Charles Kensrue down as Michael Ryan efficiently counts the fall.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Kensrue escapes!
George Cassidy: Kensrue breaks the lateral press!
Truth Waters: Only two, the Mind Crisis not enough to put this newcomer away.
Time for plan B, and the crowd begin to cheer more loudly as Crisis works his leg in under the chin of the downed Charles Kensrue, simultaneously pulling Kensrue’s arm up and forming a figure-four with his own legs.
Truth Waters: Darcinator coming right up!
Aware of the urgency of the situation, Kensrue desperately tries to energise himself, jerking his body around manically as Crisis determinedly holds him down.
Truth Waters: Kensrue doing his best impression of a slippery eel...
George Cassidy: He’s looking more like a fish out of water.
Kensrue jack-knifes his body, and for a moment he looks like he’s free, with Crisis suddenly having lost control of an arm with a second later slams him in the side of the head, the result of an inadvertent flail by the panicking 190-pounder. But it doesn’t deter the experienced Darcy Crisis, who ignores the new throbbing to once more grab hold of the same arm and forcibly pull it into position, the Darcinator now firmly locked in. Kensrue’s body falls still, a symbol of resignation after a desperate and almost fruitful struggle for freedom before the certain end that the Darcinator will bring. And it takes one more crank from Crisis before Kensrue realises his career his more important than his first AWC match in this guise, and the referee can quickly call for the bell, Crisis at once letting the man who put up a respectable fight tonight free as he rolls up to have his arm raised by Michael Ryan.
George Cassidy: That’s it! Crisis wins, Kensrue not seeing fit to put up a fight once the Darcinator was locked on...
Truth Waters: And if you ask me, that was the right thing to do. Kensrue retains his dignity, but he knew there was no way out of that hold without the risk of compromising his body for a match that really doesn’t mean a hell of a lot. Crisis three wins out of three! And a good debut for Charles Kensrue, who might be following Crisis up through the midcard in no time.
James Brunt: The winner... DARCY CRISIS!
Pages Are Frayed And Torn
FEATURING: TRACY, CHAINZ, JACK MURPHY, JESSICA O'GRADY
AUTHOR: MIKE S.
Tap, tap, tap; the echoes of stilettos against cold pavement resound through the night air as a pair of long, sexy legs step into view. Zooming up we see the beautiful and curvy body of Tracy walk into the arena. She has a purse hanging over her shoulder and is looking perfect in her makeup.
A shadow covers her as Chainz walks into the arena amidst a chorus of boos that resound from the fans and can be heard even backstage. Chainz looks even more sinister than usual; a darkness covering him like a cloak. His eyes are downcast and dark with bags under his eyes. Chainz doesn’t seem to mind the boos that can be heard and simply walks into the backstage area.
Crew members scurry about as Chainz walks in. They immediately stop and shoot him glares that can kill. Every single person stares at Chainz with hateful eyes. Maddy Estelle gasps and quickly runs for cover.
Even Tracy looks more upset and downcast as she walks hand in hand with Chainz, though it seems more like a father leading a reluctant daughter. Chainz scours the scene and finally comes across something that catches his eye; that being the eyes of Jack Murphy staring intently at him. Chainz leads Tracy over to Jack Murphy who is listening to Jessica O’Grady speaking to him.
Jessica O’Grady: Anyway Jack I’ve set up an… Oh, it’s you!
Jessica’s voice fades away as Chainz and Tracy approach. She looks at the two in disgust, but mainly at Chainz. Jack Murphy has also stopped listening and has locked eyes on Chainz.
Chainz: Yes, it’s me… You’re looking quite lovely today Jessica.
Jack Murphy: Don’t even try it.
Jack Murphy holds out his hand in a protective manner.
Jessica O’Grady: Yeah, you try anything and Jack will surely beat you down.
Chainz looks at Jessica and than casts a glance at Jack Murphy who has a bit of a nervous look about him. Chainz immediately begins to smile.
Chainz: Oh, is that so. What say you Jack?
Jack Murphy: You heard her, you even touch her and I’ll break your finger off.
Jessica O’Grady: You’re quite a character showing your face here after what you did last week.
Chainz: To be fair that was actually seven years ago; can’t we let bygones be bygones?
Jessica O’Grady: You cut your girlfriend’s baby out of her womb and…
Chainz: No, that was my baby not hers. She didn’t want it, I did. I had a duty to that child to do everything in my power to give it life. If Ally hadn’t decided to cheat on me and abort our baby all of that friction could have been avoided.
Jessica O’Grady: Friction, is that what you call it? You really are a monster, a sick demented freak. And you Tracy, I’ve seen you around and I believe you to be a good person. How can you still be with this guy?
Tracy: You don’t understand, he has a hold over…
Chainz places an arm over Tracy’s shoulders and silences her with a glance.
Jessica O’Grady: Unreal, you can still hang out with a freak like that? A man who admits to wanting other women. A man who cheats on you every chance he gets. He sleeps around with other women on the side and plays you like a fiddle.
Jack Murphy looks back and forth between Jessica and Chainz with a nervous look and a bit of sweat starting to trickle down his forehead. Chainz catches a glimpse Jack Murphy sent towards Jessica and his lips curl in a devilish grin. Jack continues looking from side to side, but Chainz has locked his gaze on Jack Murphy.
Jessica O’Grady: He’s a misogynistic bastard lying to you and sleeping around. My man isn’t like yours, he would never do something like that and he knows how to treat a lady.
Jessica wraps her hand into Jack’s who has caught the intense stare of Chainz. The Bull can’t seem to lock eyes with Chainz as he reads him as if he were reading a book.
Chainz: Of course he wouldn’t; Jack’s from a completely different stock of man than me, huh.
Jessica O’Grady: That’s right.
Chainz: You know people around here need to realize that I’m not the only one with a dark side. There’s more than meets the eye, isn’t that right Jack?
Jack Murphy: Don’t put me in the same boat as you. I am nothing like you.
Chainz: Yeah, say how’s your sex life going.
Jessica spits in the face of Chainz who doesn’t even bother to wipe it off his face.
Chainz: Bet you haven’t been fucked in a long time. You seem as dry as the desert.
Jessica O’Grady: Our sex life is none of your concern and it’s fine.
Chainz: What about yours Murphy?
Chainz asks with a smile and a glint in his eye obviously knowing the answer before he even asked the question.
Jack Murphy: Don’t worry about me and do me a favor; next time you see me and want to ask me something, don’t.
Jack wraps his arm around Jessica and leads her away from the grinning devil.
Chainz: Oh and if you see Sasha just tell her no hard feelings huh, tell her I know she’s already taken.
Jessica turns, but Jack quickly leads her down the hallway as the two disappear behind a corner.
And How Do You Pronounce That? - AND That?!
FEATURING: JEREMY J., ZSASZ, FUKAI MORI
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
Well, this is a different change of scenery. We’re in the parking lot with AWC’s Number One Hyperactive Knuckleheaded Something-Or-Another (nickname received by Truth Waters last week), Jeremy J. Wearing his signature black sweatpants, a screen T-shirt, black Magnum boots and now a hobo-looking army green raincoat with a NASA embroidery on the left breast, he stands outside, waiting on anyone who might make an appearance. Jeremy J. faces the camera, excited as ever, kinda has the obsessed, psycho look in his eyes like Mickey James has on RAW.
Jeremy J.: Hello everyone, and welcome to the fold! I’m reporting to you from the parking lot since... no one wants me... in the... building.
A moment of depression washes over him. But he recovers quickly.
Jeremy J.: But that’s okay! I don’t need to be in the backstage area to give you the best damn news in the Atlantic Wrestling Club---
He catches something in his peripheral vision. When he turns his head to see what it is, a black stretch limo slowly pulls its way into the parking lot. The limo stops about two feet away from Jeremy J. The driver’s door open, revealing a short, fat old gentlemen, going around the car to open the back door. After the backdoor is opened, a large, blonde man steps out, along with a very young female who looks like a geisha. The large blonde man is wearing an expensive looking black suit, black dress shoes and black designer sunglasses. He’s six feet, three inches tall, about three hundred pounds of muscle. The young woman is probably no more than five feet tall without her wooden shoes, and probably weighs less than one hundred pounds without her black-and-red kimono with cherry blossom prints. Her hairstyle isn’t that of a traditional geisha; instead, her jet-black hair rests softly on her shoulders, draping down to her waist. She has to be about seventeen, eighteen years of age.
Jeremy J.’s eyes are glued on these two individuals, especially observing the young girl with great, perverted interests. After staring at her for a few long moments, he looks up at the large blond next to her, and his eyes become as big as saucers. He tries to speak, but no words can come out at the moment, but he manages to clear his throat and conducts his business... as he trembles like a Chihuahua.
Jeremy J.: Omigod! You’re Zsasz! You’re Zsasz from Superior Championship Wrestling Federation (SCWF). What are you doing here?!
Zsasz: Well, young man, I’m here to promote a student of mine, someone who’ve I’ve been molding into a wrestling machine for six long years.
Jeremy J. immediately looks at the young woman on Zsasz’s arm, thinking she’s the next superstar to grace the AWC ring.
Jeremy J.: D-Does that mean this young woman is joining AWC?
Zsasz simply chuckles at the young reporter in front of him.
Zsasz: No, my good man. Fukai Mori isn’t ready to compete in the middle of the ring. I have to schedule her mizuage on her birthday in March.
Jeremy J. looks quizzically at Zsasz. He blinks a couple of times, wondering what that “M” word Zsasz said.
Jeremy J.: What’s a meez-ooh-ah-gay?
Zsasz: Read Memoirs of a Geisha. You do know how to read, don’t you, young man?
Jeremy J.: Yes, my reading comprehension is that of a twelfth grader.
Zsasz raises an eyebrow.
Zsasz: And you’re, what? Eighteen? Nineteen?
Jeremy J.: I’m twenty-two, sir.
Zsasz looks down at his young predecessor, then back at Jeremy J.
Zsasz: Okay... moving on. As I said previously, Fukai Mori isn’t ready to compete in the ring---
Jeremy J.: Because of her meez-ooh-ah-gay---
Zsasz: ---right, because of her mizuage---
Jeremy J.: ---so does that mean you’re joining AWC? Oh, that would so fucking rock HARDCORE!
Zsasz looks at Jeremy J. with broiling impatience. He raises his head up, closes his eyes and quietly lets out a sigh. He looks back down at Jeremy J.
Zsasz: You’re not a very intelligent human being, are you, son? No, I’m not joining the AWC roster. I’ve taken a momentary exile from wrestling---
Jeremy J.: So you retired then?
Zsasz: ---no! I didn’t retire. I took a momentary exile from wrestling. There’s a difference.
Jeremy J.: Oh...
He mauls it around in his head a bit, then nods his head.
Jeremy J.: Okay. Whatever you say. So if this young lady---
Zsasz: Her name is Fukai Mori.
Jeremy J.: ---okay, Fukai Mori. If Fukai isn’t coming to wrestle and you’re not coming to wrestle, then who is? Inquiring minds have got to know.
Zsasz smirks a bit, chuckling to himself.
Zsasz: As I said earlier, I’m promoting a student that I’ve been molding into the perfect wrestling machine for six years. In fact, he’s in this limo at this very moment.
Jeremy J.’s eyes go back to being the size of saucers. He almost runs Zsasz over to get a glimpse of the man inside the limo.
Jeremy J.: OMIGOD! MUST. TALK. TO. STUDENT~!
Zsasz stops Jeremy J. in time by putting his arm out in front of the young reporter.
Zsasz: I’m sorry to say this, but my student has told me in advance that he doesn’t want to speak with anyone at this time.
Jeremy J.: But I need to know who it is!
Zsasz: You will in due time, just like the rest of the AWC. Jeeves, take us to our entrance please. Fukai, if you please.
Fukai Mori: Yes, Zsasz Sensei.
Fukai Mori steps into the limo. Zsasz gives Jeremy J. a little nod and tells him “Good night.” He enters the limo as well, shuts the door and the limo speeds past Jeremy J. Jeremy J. simply stands there as the limo makes its way to the other side of the building. He looks at the camera, then back in the direction where the limo went.
The 'N' Word I
FEATURING: LUIS FERRARA, ANTON ASSAULT, HATE
AUTHOR: OBINNA O.
Luis Ferrara and Anton Assault are walking backstage. Anton wears a colorful dashiki, different from the one he was last seen in, but still distinctly African. Luis, in his stark white suit, is in front. He holds a coffee in a styrofoam cup before him. He gestures back at Anton as he turns a corner, taking a leisurely sip of coffee.
Luis Ferrara: No one can fuckin' touch you, man! Look at that, did you see… the way you took out Jason Warr? So slick, man, so smooth. So 'ficcient. Gonna be a big star here in AWC, 'specially with me leadin' you.
Anton nods, not responding. Luis cracks a smile and turned around, jabbing at Anton's chest. The fierce Nigerian easily slaps away the play-punch and Luis laughs, turning back around… right into someone's chest! Luis's coffee pitches forward, spilling right over whoever he has bumped into. Anton's face screws up in anger and he balls his fists at his sides. The camera pans upwards to show the eerie visage of Hate!
Hate: Well, well… if it isn't the greasy bastard and his little leash boy?
Luis Ferrara: Hey, motherfucker, you wanna watch your mouth?
Hate laughs harshly, taking a short step forward.
Hate: And if I don't?
Luis Ferrara: If you don't back the fuck up, esse, Anton's gonna fu—
Hate: That was a fluke, understand? You try that kind if shit again and I'll break you in half. There's no way that a fucking African retard is good enough to come within inches of beating me. You remember what happened when it wasn't a street fight, when it was just you and me… in the ring?
Anton takes a step forward now, obviously searing with hatred. Hate is similarly unamused. Their foreheads press together and Hate lifts his chin.
Hate: Say something.
Anton remains silent.
Hate: Too stupid to talk, huh? I understand. Get back to me after you evolve like the rest of us.
At this, Anton shoves Hate and makes to take off his dashiki, but Luis steps in front of him, pushing him backwards.
Luis Ferrara: Calm down, Lion! Calm down, don't let this gringo get to you.
Hate sneers.
Hate: Yeah. Calm down, nigger.
At this, Anton snaps. He rips off the dashiki and shoves Luis aside, rushing at Hate and being met with a quick boot to the face! Anton pops right up and lays into Hate with a series of right hands, drilling him in the stomach with a knee and hitting him over the back with a double axehandle smash. Hate falls to a knee, but he springs up and smashes Anton back-first into the wall. The Nigerian's back arches and Hate takes the opportunity to give him a few pummeling strikes in the stomach.
Hate whips Anton into a rack of chairs and Anton flips over them, landing in a heap amongst the steel. Hate stalks over and grabs up a chair, hitting it on the wall and waiting for Mr. CKD to rise. Anton slowly gets to his feet and just as hate is about to smash him with a chair, Anton blasts him with a superkick that sends the steel chair right back into Hate's face! Hate drops the weapon and stumbles back into the wall. Anton rushes him, beating him about the head rapid elbow strikes.
Hate forces Anton backwards and levels him with an uppercut, sending him back-first on one of the dropped chairs. Stepping forward, Hate leaps up and hits Assault with a fist drop! Anton's legs kick up and Hate lifts him up by the neck, tossing him forward. Hate disappears after Assault, kicking him in the stomach as he forces him around a corridor.
Celestial Fury vs Norton & Bridges
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: YRAN
“Times Like These” by the Foo Fighters erupts onto the speakers to be greeted by a HUGE reaction from the fans.
James Brunt: The following contest is scheduled for one fall… Introducing first, the team of Butterfly Hamada and The Green Grappler… CELESTIAL FURY!!!
The fans are totally pumped up for the third match of this week’s Fresh! as Butterfly Hamada and The Green Grappler step onto the stage and play to the crowd. Strolling to the ring the new duo hand slaps a few fans before sliding into the ring. Turning to face the stage “Enter The Dragons” performed by Norton & Bridges chimes onto the speakers as the crowd bellow out a very mixed reaction.
James Brunt: And their opponents… The team of Chuck Norton and Russell “Hash Brown” Bridges… NORTON & BRIDGES!!!
Stepping onto the stage, Chuck Norton and Russ Bridges pace to the ring ignore the crowd and clearly seem pissed off that they haven’t found their guitars. Rushing to the ring, Chuck and Russell slide in and straight away go for their opponents.
Ding, ding, ding.
As Chuck and Hash Brown trade punches with Butterfly Hamada and The Green Grappler respectively, referee Aaron Davies attempts to sort things out. Chuck is quickly overcome by Butterfly Hamada and bundled from the ring. The same is said of The Green Grappler as Hash Brown Bridges pushes the Paradox native through the middle rope.
Turning around Butterfly Hamada and Hash Brown come face-to-face as the legal men.
Stalling for a second Russ stares at Butterfly and then stormed towards his much smaller opponent. With his chest out and arms ready to catch her, Russ quickly bundles the shocked Butterfly to the ring mat with an unorthodox Lou Thez Press. Hash Brown attempts to capitalise on the situation and throw right hands at Butterfly’s face but the only woman in the match manages to wriggle free from under Hash Brown and retreat across the ring.
After connecting with the ring mat in a failed punch, Russ, still on his knees, turns to be greeted by the sight on Hamada’s feet coming towards him. Connecting sweetly, Butterfly pulls the dazed country and western singer to his feet and whips him across the ring.
As Hash Brown returns, Butterfly uses his momentum to hit a simple drop toe hold crashing the overweight star to the floor. As Russ holds his face, Butterfly takes the opportunity to climb the corner and tag in The Green Grappler. Walking across the ring apron, Celestial Fury perch themselves on the turnbuckles and watch Russell Bridges.
AWC’s King of Breakfast Stuffs takes his time getting up, but seems a little confused that Hamada is not in his immediate area. Turning round, Hash Brown Bridges can only watch the tag team of Celestial Fury perform matching Missile Dropkicks on him and then crash to the mat with him.
Rolling away, Butterfly Hamada retreats from the ring as The Green Grappler quickly applies an Abdominal Stretch to his opponent. The complete rookie quickly screams out in pain and is very uncomfortable with the move. Holding the move for quite a few seconds really drains Russ Bridges of his fight fairly quickly.
Sensing his partner’s pain, well okay I say sense. Watching his partner’s pain, Chuck Norton rushes through the ropes and stamps a commanding right foot into the shoulder of the Green Grappler. Quickly Aaron Davies is on the scene escorting Chuck Norton from the ring with one eye on Butterfly Hamada who is watching intently in the corner.
Enjoying his break, Hash Brown Bridges pulls himself to his feet. His inexperience is clearly evident.
Truth Waters: Hash Brown’s inexperience in the wrestling ring is clearly evident!
She’s a play-by-play. She does her job. (Eh? -Ed.)
As Russ enjoys his few seconds of break he turns around as The Green Grappler tags in Butterfly Hamada. Although being screamed at by his tag team partner, Hash Brown decides to fight and rushes the Celestial Fury corner at pace hoping to catch the mixed gender duo off guard… but sadly he doesn’t.
Sensing the danger, the two light-footed wrestlers hop through the ropes and Russ Bridges hits the turnbuckle chest first and is pushed back in a daze for a couple of seconds. As Hash Brown collects himself, Butterfly swings her right foot through the ropes with a stiff kick to his thigh.
Almost as though using his imbalance as encouragement, Hamada propels herself onto the tope rope and then springboards into a picture perfect hurricanrana. Remaining on top of Hash Brown Bridges, Butterfly hooks a leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout.
Chuck Norton’s help is unneeded as he bundles into Butterfly Hamada. Somehow Russ managed to kick out and then roll away as Chuck furiously bombards Butterfly with right and left fists.
Hamada struggles to block them until Chuck feels a tap on the shoulder.
Stopping Chuck Norton looks to see The Green Grappler waving at him. Confused for a moment Chuck is motionless and simply stares at his opponent, that is until Butterfly’s right and connects with what can only be described as Chuck’s glass jaw and the country and western performer falls to the ring mat like a sack of potatoes.
Rolling away, Chuck falls from the ring to the outside and collects himself as Celestial Fury close in on Hash Brown Bridges.
As they do, “We going to be alright” by 112 kicks in on the speakers. Looking up Celestial Fury notice Tiara Belle Russell and Wayne Russell stepping through the entranceway carrying guitars but unconcerned they simply return to the task in hand.
However, the music clicks with Chuck Norton who immediately jumps to his feet and runs to the bottom of the rampway.
In the ring, the Green Grappler comfortably connects with a cradle piledriver on Russ Bridges.
On the stage Tiara and Wayne are posing with Norton & Bridges’ lost guitars and then proceed to slam them together in a scene from a Garth Brooks live show.
Butterfly Hamada sails through the air with a corkscrew moonsault. As Chuck Norton runs up the ramp to his broken guitar, Celestial Fury, together pin the limp body of Russell Bridges.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Quickly disappearing into the back, Pleasure and Pain vacate the scene as Chuck Norton looks back in time to see his team lose the match, before turning his attention once more to the broken guitars.
“Times Like These” by the Foo Fighters plays on the speakers as Celestial Fury celebrate in the ring.
Hash Brown Bridges struggles to roll from the ring as Chuck Norton picks up the shattered pieces of his only guitar.
The 'N' Word II
FEATURING: HATE, ANTON ASSAULT, LUIS FERRARA
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
The brawl continues as Hate lays into Anton with a few hard right hands, which the former MMA fighter tries to block reflexively. The two keep in close contact, bumping into walls and knocking over some chairs as Hate keeps on the offensive, repeatedly kneeing The Lion towards the chest. Anton Assault tries to block them, but finally one slips through and catches him in the temple, throwing him on the floor. Hate is immediatedly on top of The Lion, grabbing his hair and trying to headbutt him. However, being more experienced of the two, The Lion manages to get out of way and the only thing Hate headbutts is the floor, dazing him so that Assault can get up.
Assault smiles and kicks the dazed Hate in the back, sending him scrambling up like crazy. Luis Ferrara cheers for Anton Assault on the background as The Lion moves in on the attack, landing a combination of nice punches straight to the head of The Fifth Horseman. Hate stumbles backwards, knocking a water machine over and tripping on the debris, but he is up quickly and swinging the plastic tank of the machine. The Lion finds a plastic can shot heading his way and he promptly punches the weapon out of the way, but this leaves an opening for Hate to uppercut The Lion in the guts, although rather poorly. When Hate steps in, Anton Assault flares again, hitting a roundhouse kick to the chest which forces Hate even further backwards.
The two round another corner, now with more people watching them than before, but nobody is heroic enough to try and stop the brawl. Hate dodges a punch from Anton Assault which makes a dent in the wall and then grabs The Lion by the head, making the next dent with Assault’s forehead as he slams it into the wall. Hate gets backfisted across the face, but he doesn’t seem to care as he fires off a headbutt into the face of Anton Assault. Assault takes a few staggering steps backwards and then kicks at Hate, forcing the painted freak back. Both men issue a yell of defiance and charge, slamming together and landing in a heap on the floor. They quickly get up and Hate is faster this time, kneeing Assault in the guts and grabbing him by the head once again, leading The Lion towards a nearby restroom.
The Trackdown I
FEATURING: HEROIC HENRY, LAURA WILLIAMS
AUTHOR: JOE HAYNES
We cut to the backstage area where a content Heroic Henry can be seen in front of one of the various refreshment tables getting him a cup of coffee. After crashing into the venue, accidentally, he's slowly realizing that he's one AWC's own; a true member of a wrestling federation!
Reporter: Excuse me, but, who are you?
A woman startles Henry who yaps out a note of excitement and tips the cup on to his right leg.
Heroic Henry: MOOOOOOOOOOOOOTHER!
Without much immediate thought, Henry lifts his steaming leg and presses it against the water fountain, soaking his pants but slightly cooling the burn down. He turns his head and notices the woman hasn't moved an inch and had the same insincere expression on her face.
Heroic Henry: You'll have to forgive me; it feels like my leg is melting.
Reporter: My condolences sir, who would you be?
Heroic Henry: In what context? Like, if I was a wrestler?
Reporter: You aren't a wrestler?
Heroic Henry: Yeah, I am. This is actually my first show.
Reporter: Oh, so you're wrestling?
Heroic Henry: Yeah... No? No. I'm actually here to introduce myself.
Reporter: To people like me?
Heroic Henry: To everyone, I suppose.
Henry holds his hand out.
Heroic Henry: You are?
The reporter doesn't accept the handshake, and instead, wipes her hand on his coat. She hesitates before revealing her name
Reporter: My name is Laura.
Heroic Henry: Nice to meet you, Laura. Last name?
Reporter: Williams.
Heroic Henry: Well, nice to meet you, Mrs. Williams. What can I do for you?
Laura Williams: I'm looking for this man.
The reporter holds up a picture of Charles Kensrue, another new AWC star. Henry brushes the ends of his goatee and thinks for a couple of minutes before shooting his index finger into the hair.
Heroic Henry: I know him! I remember seeing him go into a room...
Laura Williams: A room as in, a locker room?
Heroic Henry: Beats me. I think every room locks, though.
Laura Williams: No, like lockers? The ones in schools to put things into.
Heroic Henry: Oh, right. You'll have to excuse me; this is all very new to me.
The reporter smiles.
Laura Williams: That's fine. Do you know where that room is?
Henry turns around and takes a tour of the arena, eventually finding the basement. He then starts to steadily walk down the hall, with the reporter following. He stops again and points at a red-door to his right.
Laura Williams: This one?
Heroic Henry: Yes ma’am. Let me guess, did he hire you to hype up his debut? Like, an interviewer?
The reporter smirks.
Laura Williams: You hit the nail right on the head.
Heroic Henry: Ha! Thought so. Well, tell him I said 'good luck' and all that jazz, okay?
Laura Williams: You got it, and thank you for showing me to his room.
Heroic Henry: Anything to help.
Henry ups both of his thumbs to the reporter and turns back around and heads to his dressing room, to pour himself another cup of coffee. He seems unaware of Laura’s facial expression, which the camera catches. The look indicates that she’s up to something. Apparently it’ll have to wait until later, because she leaves the door as the camera fades away.
Truck Trauma
FEATURING: PATRICK MAPLELEAF, TERESA TOMAS
AUTHOR: SONYA
The opening riffs of "Oh, Canada" rips through the PA system. Thunderous boos drown out the Canadian anthem. Red and white pyro blast around the entrance ramp. Patrick Mapleleaf breaks through the curtain and boldly strides down the ramp. The jumbo screen shows a waving Canadian flag as he descends toward the ring. He’s decked out in designer black pants and a blue shirt. His light blonde hair is neatly spiked and his brown goatee neatly trimmed. As the jeers continue, Patrick smiles a cocky smile. Finally, his entrance music cuts and a mic is thrown to him.
Patrick Mapleleaf: My god! America sucks doesn’t it? Looks at you people. No respect. No respect at all!
The arena floods with boos and “Go Home” chants. This only feeds Patrick’s current mood. His grin grows wider then suddenly disappears. His eyes stare up the entrance ramp.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Shut the hell up. I’m not here to talk to you!
The crowd doesn’t listen and the ”U.S.A.!” chants begin. Patrick shakes his head rolling his eyes.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Teresa Tomas. I know you’re listening. You’re in your locker room getting ready for your match. I hope you get the hell beat out of you. Ever since AWC’s Christmas Party, which you crashed, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side. I don’t know if it’s your body odor. I know where you come from people only bath one a month, but Jesus Christ woman, you reek of shit and beer! When you ran into me backstage two weeks ago, you nearly killed me with that stink. If I wasn’t gagging so bad, I would’ve knocked you out before you had the chance to pin me to the wall. You’re damn lucky I wasn’t around last week. It’s just like a coward to talk shit about a man when he’s not there.
The crowd suddenly erupts when they hear the all so familiar horn of the Dukes of Hazard’s General Lee. 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 steps through the curtains yielding microphone and an annoyed expression on her face. She is decked out in her wrestling gear and her long sandy blond hair in a ponytail.
Teresa Tomas: Why don’t you shut the hell up?
The crowd explodes in agreement.
Teresa Tomas: All you are doing is putting these poor people to sleep with that shit you’re feeding them. What’s the matter? Is it killing you that a woman got the best of you? That an AMERICAN woman pinned you against the wall? Booo freaking hooo! If you’re that sexually deprived, meet me in my locker room later and I’ll show you what a real pinning is.
Teresa grins laughing to herself, then shakes her head.
Teresa Tomas: No, I take that back, if I ever caught you in my locker room, I’d probably bust a hole in the wall with your head.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Please, please Teresa, don’t flatter yourself. In fact I got something to show you I think you might want to see. Now if you will. Take a look at the big screen.
Teresa gives Patrick a confused look and turns around to look at the screen above her. Her face tightens as she watches a midnight purple Chevrolet pick up being towed off the parking lot. She turns to face Patrick who is once again grinning from ear to ear and his arms crossed over his chest.
Teresa Tomas: WHAT THE HELL? Where you taking my truck?
Patrick shakes his head mocking sadness.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Tsk, tsk, It was double parked. Good thing I noticed it. Don’t worry. Your treasured truck will be in good hands and you’ll get it back... maybe.
Teresa Tomas: Maybe?!! That’s MY damn truck! You have no right to take it! If there is one scratch on that thing, I’ll rip that dumb goatee right off your damn face.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Yes I said maybe… I’m challenging you to a match Teresa. If you want your truck back, you have to beat me at a one on one match at Bloodlust. If you lose the match, you lose your truck and I get to redecorate it Canadian style! So what you say?
If this was a cartoon, steam would be rolling out of Teresa’s ears. She literally growls into her mic as she speaks.
Teresa Tomas: You mother f’n cock sucker. You’re dead Mapleleaf. At Bloodlust, I’m gonna KILL you. Right now, I’m gonna make you wish you were dead!
Teresa drops her mic and sprints to the ring. Seeing her fury, Patrick slides out of the ring just as Teresa slides under the bottom rope. He then darts up the ramp leaving Teresa raging in the ring.
The 'N' Word III
FEATURING: HATE, ANTON ASSAULT, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: OBINNA O.
Hate drags Anton into a break room and hiptosses him onto a table. The people inside scream and clear out as the Fifth Horseman sets up a chair and climbs atop it. He leaps forward, looking to hit an elbow drop, but Anton rolls away and leavs Hate to smash through the table onto the floor! Anton gets up and mounts Hate, pummeling him with monstrous strikes to the head! Hate brings up his hands, but he can't get away. Finally, he manages to shove Anton away and roll up to his feet.
Anton quickly turns to attack Hate, but Hate whirls around and hits him with a coffee can! Anton staggers and Hate takes the advantage, but he is quickly overcome by a belly to belly suplex that sends him through another table! Anton gets to his feet just as Hate does and the two men go punch for punch, each intent on beating the other to a pulp. Hate launches himself forward and crushes Anton with a swift clothesline. Hate lifts Anton up and grabs him by the tights, ramming him headfirst into a microwave!
Hate lifts the microwave up, pulling it free of the socket, and brings it down to hit Anton in the head, but the Lion swings his leg back and kicks it into Hate's thigh! Hate drops the microwave and settles for stomping Anton in the head, forcing the Anton to give up the attack. Hate lifts Anton up and teeters towards the ground before devastating him with a death valley driver! Anton lays flat on his back, breathing hard.
Hate drags Anton by the arm out of the break room and crosses his arm over his chest, before the big man swings his leg over and drops a leg over his sternum! Hate spits and lifts Anton to his feet, settling him over his shoulder. He charges forward, smashing Anton's back into a vending machine! He pulls back and smashes Anton in again, but this time Anton begins to fight back with furious fists on Hate's back. He elbows the back of Hate's head and the Aryan Superstar is forced to let go.
Anton scores a big punch to the jaw, setting Hate to reeling. He scores a double-cannon shotei and then finishes up the combination with a kick to the side and an uppercut to the jaw. Hate grabs his chin and Anton grabs him, lifting him up and twisting him over for a Judo Uranage! Hate rolls way from the onslaught, but Anton simply drives a knee into the back of his neck before twisting and locking a Boston crab.
Hate drags himself across the floor, desperate for some respite. He grabs a nearby broomstick and swings it backwards, connecting with the back of Anton's head! Anton stumbles forward and Hate manages to get to his feet, turning around. Anton has turned about as well and he charges at Hate, only to be met with a fierce broomstick shot between the eyes! Hate drives the handle of the broomstick into Anton's chest, forcing a pained groan from the Nigerian. Hate tosses away the implement and lifts Anton to his feet, whipping him hard into a wall.
Hate follows him to the wall and smashes him in with a body press. He twists and whips him down the hall again, sending Anton crashing into a confused and scared secretary! Anton falls to his knees and Hate slowly walks towards him, cracking his knuckles. Just as Hate gets near, Anton tries for a Blackout Kick, but he only catches Hate's chest! This is enough to send Hate down, however, and Anton regains his balance. Hate rises to his feet and Anton bashes him with the nearest thing he can find: the secretary's coffee mug! A thick thud sounds out and Anton tosses the cracked cup away.
Anton takes a few steps forward, but Hate grabs his tights and pulls him face-first into the vending machine! Anton staggers backwards and Hate bull rushes him backwards into a corner! Anton cries out, but he gives Hate a fierce knee lift that sends the Fifth Horseman off of him. Hate is up quickly and he goes to boot Anton in the head, but Anton moves and Hate is left with nothing but corner! Before Hate can think, Anton is on the scene and has smashed him with a left jab!
Hate grabs Anton and tosses him further down the hall. He charges at the Nigerian and looks for the big boot, but Anton reverses it into a capture suplex! Frustrated, Hate comes up to his feet… and comes eye to eye with Entertainment Co-Manager David "Pearl" Harber! Harber clearly looks irritated as he looks at Hate. He turns around and sees Anton standing there before shaking his head.
Pearl: You idiots think you're gonna mess up my backstage with your stupid fight? You think you're gonna do all this when I have so much at stake right now? You don't even understand… I'll tell you what: I'll let you continue this –
Hate cracks a smile. Anton looks stony and serious.
Pearl: …at Bloodlust! Falls count anywhere, since the two of you can’t seem to contain yourselves to the ring like everybody else! Now, if I see you guys touch each other until then, I'll have your necks! Understand!? And Hate, I hope you're ready for your match; Chainz isn't exactly a pushover, and… well, you know how our public image has been because of him.
Hate's expression turns sour. Pearl looks at both of them before shouting at them to leave. Grudgingly, both men walk separate ways. Pearl watches them before disappearing down a third hallway, muttering to himself.
Teresa Tomas vs Damien Wilson vs Jiro Sennosuke
STIPULATION: THREE WAY FURY
REFEREE: RICHIE TRAVIS
AUTHOR: TRENT
Truth Waters: And this next match is going to be a furious one as we have three men colliding in the ring -
George Cassidy: You forgot to mention that it’s a Three Way Fury!
Truth Waters: Well, now that we’ve got that established, let’s join James Brunt at ringside for our wrestler introductions!
The ripping guitars of 'Hate To Say I Told You So' by The Hives hit the loudspeakers. The crowd doesn't exactly get electric, but a few smart-mark cheers make it through the arena.
The bass kicks in, and Jiro Sennosuke, one half of Collision Course, appears through the curtain, ready for business. He walks down the line to the arena, focused entirely on the ring in front of him. His face is unmoving. Even his luxuriant onyx hair is still.
James Brunt: The following is a Three Way Fury match! Introducing first, from Kobe, Japan, weighing in at 198 pounds, Jiro Sennosuke!
He springs up and rolls into the ring, kipping up to his feet quickly. He doesn't acknowledge the fans, but simply tests himself on the ring ropes, tugging on them.
Truth Waters: This being the second time in the same amount of weeks I’ve written this guy’s match, I’m starting to get to know him a little better!
George Cassidy: Um, Truth?
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: I don’t know how to say this, but I think you’re trying to say these matches are actually written out and posted on the internet!
Truth Waters: Oh, right. Of course not...
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. 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.
James Brunt: Next, from Nashville, Tennessee, weighing in at 145 pounds, Teresa Tomas!
Truth Waters: And this young lady here, she shouldn’t be taken too lightly anyway.
George Cassidy: Word of wisdom - never take a Jack Daniels drinking redneck lightly. Especially in bed.
Truth Waters: Not like you’d know...
Tomas scopes out her Japanese rival and slides her light, agile frame quickly into the ring, then sprints towards him. The Kobe native is initially taken off guard as he is occupied with a few last-minute stretches, but braces himself with enough time to think out a counter. Referee Richie Travis ignores the fact that all three competitors haven’t entered the ring yet and calls for the bell as the Redneck Princess takes off at Sennosuke, looking for a Cross Body. The defender catches his opponent, then lets her fall to the canvas but not before grabbing a hold of her legs. Sennosuke tenaciously wrenches at Tomas’s knee, but Tomas easily gets to the ropes.
Truth Waters: Blistering pace to start this Three Way Fury and our third competitor hasn’t even entered the ring yet!
As if this is a cue, “A Minor Detail” by Hidden Plain View erupts into the arena to a half-ass pop from the crowd as Damien Wilson comes from behind the curtain. Instead of doing the smart thing and allowing his opponents to battle it out themselves, the Raw Talent sprints to the ring as James Brunt introduces him.
James Brunt: And our final competitor, weighing 214 pounds, Damien Wilson!
Truth Waters: Interesting side note here - Wilson has the size advantage in this match, and that’s saying something, because he’s only fourteen pounds over the 200 mark!
George Cassidy: Ph... size only matters when you’re as fully loaded as I am.
Truth Waters: If it’s as big as you say it is, one of these days I’m going to ‘accidentally’ give you the ol’ “how ya do!” and you’ll be in the hospital for a week!
George Cassidy: “The ol’ ‘how ya do!’”?
Truth Waters: I have to say, for a commentator, you sure aren’t very familiar with a lot of phrases...
George Cassidy: Usually I like to watch the match, something we’re not doing right now!
Sure enough Damien Wilson has entered the ring and pounces on Jiro Sennosuke, tackling him to the canvas and blitzing him with punch after punch. Sennosuke tries to block the vicious rights and lefts with both forearms so Wilson backs off for a second, stalking his opponent, giving him enough time to get to his feet then putting him in a waist-lock. The Raw Talent tries for the early German Suplex, but Japan native stands his ground, trying to fight his way out of Wilson’s grasp. Meanwhile, the Top Rope Temptress is staying true to her name, balanced on the turnbuckle out of the sights of her two opponents. Damien Wilson notices her too late and is blind sided by a Missile Dropkick.
Truth Waters: Nice spot there for THE American Woman.
George Cassidy: I have to ask, what’s with the “the” being made so clear?
Truth Waters: I don’t know, ask Chuck Norris.
George Cassidy: Oh, not you too... but while we’re on the subject, I heard he’s afraid of the dark.
Truth Waters: Chuck Norris does sleep with a light on, yes. But not because he’s afraid of the dark. The dark is afraid of him.
Damien Wilson is on the canvas and as a result of the dropkick brought Sennosuke down with him. Teresa Tomas is back on the attack, however, and bounces off the ring cables, anticipating the Japanese cruiserweight getting to his feet. He’s on the ball, however, and Powerslams the 145-pounder easily to the canvas.
Truth Waters: A rare feat for the 200-pound Sennosuke, but on Tomas, he made that power move look easy!
George Cassidy: It probably helps that she’s drunk...
Truth Waters: That’s a bold assumption...
George Cassidy: Well, she did walk to the ring drinking out of a Jack Daniels bottle.
Truth Waters: She does all the time!
George Cassidy: Which makes me think - why hasn’t Pearl done anything about it?
Truth Waters: Save this discussion for another time, Sennosuke and Wilson are squaring off!
The two male opponents get into a grapple, and although Sennosuke puts up a good fight, the slight weight advantage that Wilson has allows him to force Jiro into the turnbuckle. He pushes him hard into the padding, then uses both hands to continuously give Sennosuke shots to the mid-section. The Raw Talent follows by grabbing onto the top-rope then using his right boot to choke out the cornered man. He breaks it off at the count of four, then pulls Sennosuke out from that position and folds him into position for a Suplex. He hooks onto his leg and sets up for the Fisherman’s version, but Teresa Tomas attacks him from behind with a flying back elbow and both Wilson and Sennosuke are sent tumbling into the turnbuckle.
Truth Waters: Teresa Tomas showing some fight! The battle of the sexes not one-sided in this one, by far!
George Cassidy: Which gets me thinking... we should really have a woman commentator here in the booth.
Truth Waters: Are you kidding? I deal with enough bitching and complaining with you sitting next to me...
Sennosuke hits the turnbuckle hard and lands on his ass in the corner, while Wilson is hung up on the second rope with his back to his female opponent. The Redneck Princess is immediately back on the offence, coming back off the opposite ring cables at full speed towards Damien Wilson. She leaps in the air and lands with her crotch pressed against his back, causing his neck to press hard against the second rope. He stumbles away from the encounter, clutching his throat, then falling to the canvas.
Truth Waters: Teresa Tomas showing some nice tactic there using the ring cable to her advantage.
George Cassidy: Speaking of which, I really would like to know why some call it the ropes, and others call it cables...
Truth Waters: What’s with you today? You’re really getting sidetracked... more than usual, anyway.
George Cassidy: Are you saying I’m a bad commentator?
Truth Waters: No. Just not as good as me.
Teresa Tomas is thinking over her next attack, and looks at both her grounded and cornered opponents. Sennosuke is stirring, so the lone female of the match chokes him out in the corner for a good four second count that comes from Richie Travis. Tomas lets off, then climbs to the top rope above Sennosuke, and readies herself with her back facing the ring. She balances on two feet, concentrating, then jumps backwards. She flips in mid-air and heads directly towards Damien Wilson. Jiro, however, seemed to be playing possum and jumps quickly to his feet, and before the redneck lands the moonsault the Japanese cruiserweight kicks her hard in the jaw in mid-flight.
Truth Waters: My GOD! Sickening kick there from the eighteen year old!
George Cassidy: What? This little you-know-what is only eighteen?!
Truth Waters: Yep, he’ll be celebrating his nineteenth at the end of this month.
George Cassidy: Ha! No wonder the little bugger didn’t have any Sake at the Christmas party!
Truth Waters: Actually, I think it’s pronounced Saké, as in Sac-ay.
George Cassidy: You think.
Truth Waters: No, it is.
Teresa Tomas still lands on Damien Wilson, but with little effect, as she holds her jaw in sheer pain from that awful kick from Sennosuke. He merely smiles and rolls Tomas off of his other opponent, then pins her.
ONE!
TWO!
The Nashville native gets out of the pin, and Sennosuke gets up quickly, as Damien Wilson is stirring. Sennosuke turns his attention to him, and grabs him by both his legs. The attacker tries to get him into a version of the Sharpshooter, but Wilson scrambles out of it and grabs onto the bottom rope. Jiro seems angered, and yanks his opponent off of the rope and tries to get him into the submission again, but receives a kick to the face. He stumbles backwards from the blow and Wilson gets to his feet, then pursues Sennosuke and hits him with a dropkick.
Truth Waters: Finally some offense from the Raw Talent!
George Cassidy: From the way he’s been performing, I don’t know if you’d call it raw...
Truth Waters: Self-alleged Raw Talent, then.
Nevertheless, the wrestler they speak of focuses on Teresa Tomas now, and has her in a Sleeper-hold. He keeps her in this position and gets to his feet, bringing her up with him. Pulling harder on her neck, he brings them towards the corner of the ring, then throws her out of the submission and into the turnbuckle. After a swift kick dangerously close to her breasts, Wilson straddles his opponent while standing on the top rope, and gives her one punch at a time, the crowd counting with every punch. This seems to never work, and this match is no exception, as Jiro Sennosuke is back up and aware of the current situation.
Truth Waters: Uh-oh, both Tomas and Wilson could be in some trouble now.
George Cassidy: Let’s see if the inexperienced kid can take advantage of his situation.
Truth Waters: Hey, he deserves better than that. He’s fighting grown men in this club, some of them twice his age!
George Cassidy: His record begs to differ. 2 losses, no wins? If only I were in charge of things around here...
Truth Waters: I don’t even want to think about that.
Damien Wilson, completely unaware that his other opponent in the match is to his feet and ready to attack, continues punching away at the redneck. This could be a problem, as Sennosuke is now staging his offence. The Kobe native shows his aerial side, and springs off of the top rope closest to Wilson, and dropkicks him hard in the spine. Completely unaware until it hits him, the tides turn on the Raw Talent as he collapses over Tomas and falls out of the ring. ONE! The crowd breaks out in cheers for the impressive spot from the youngster.
Truth Waters: Damien Wilson hit the outside hard! The new(ish) five count-out rule could take effect here...
George Cassidy: I wouldn’t bet on it. I don’t think we’ve seen one of those yet...
TWO!
Truth Waters: Y’know, I think you’re right, Cassidy. I’m impressed, you actually did your homework.
George Cassidy: Ph... homework is for pussies.
THREE!
Truth Waters: And whose the pussy, you, or me? Remember, I am black, and also, was a boxer.
George Cassidy: One of these days I’m gonna learn some fighting skills, then kung-fu your ass!
FOUR!
The commentators seem oblivious to how close Wilson is to the count-out, but he manages to get to his feet and pull himself weakly into the ring. He remains on the canvas, however, still recovering from the impact.
Truth Waters: Near count-out! Anyways, about the Kung Fu, you should pay attention to this Japanese teenager, you just might learn something...
Sennosuke is staying true to Waters’ commentating as he pulls Tomas out of the corner, then performs a talented punch-kick combo. However, the stereotype is minimal here, as he shows his technical abilities, putting pressure on the female wrestler’s left arm. He applies serious force to the shoulder area, pulling back and listening to the redneck grunt away in pain. She seems to handle pain well, however (whether it’s from the JD or not we don’t know), and uses her feet to push herself towards the ropes. Sennosuke releases the submission and pulls her to the middle of the ring, then goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Damien Wilson pounces on his opponent making the pin and breaks up the count at the last second as the match pushes forward. All three opponents are grounded now, but all stirring. Finally each of them get to their feet at a similar time, and get into the ready position. All of them are looking back and forth from one to the other, trying to anticipate what they might do.
George Cassidy: And we’re back to square one!
Truth Waters: Actually, this isn’t how the match began...
George Cassidy: Irrelevant!
Teresa Tomas is the first to act, turning quickly towards Sennosuke and trying for a big right hand. He’s prepared, though, and blocks the blow and returns the favour with a kick to the mid-section. Tomas doubles over but Sennosuke doesn’t follow through, because Damien Wilson is on the scene and looking for a fight. Him and his foreign counterpart exchange right hands, until Damien Wilson gets the upper hand. Sennosuke stumbles right into Tomas, who executes a neckbreaker on him. The crowd cheers for the underdog as she is back on her feet, battling with Damien Wilson. Wilson gets the upper hand immediately, then Irish-whips the Redneck Princess against the ropes. Wilson takes a risk by doubling over and waiting for the Back Body Drop. Tomas hooks her arms around the top ropes and stops there. She waits for Wilson to realize this development, then beheads him with a flying clothesline.
Truth Waters: And the fans are getting behind the underdog!
George Cassidy: Would you boo a raging drunk?
Truth Waters: Well, no, but that’s beyond the point…
Teresa Tomas jumps on Wilson and tries for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Damien Wilson gets his shoulder up. A momentary lapse gives the uninvolved wrestler, Sennosuke, to shake out the cobwebs then go back to work, pulling Tomas off of his other opponent. Sennosuke gives the redneck no time to react and tosses her out of the ring, heading back to Wilson. He seems to be focused on ending the mach, and ending it soon. ONE!
Truth Waters: This kid means business, folks!
Sennosuke grabs Wilson by the legs and pulls him to the center of the ring.TWO! Wilson tries to kick his way out of this predicament but fails as Sennosuke wraps himself around the Raw Talent’s left leg, then puts him into a figure four. THREE!The crowd roars as Wilson screams in agony, with the Japanese face pulling hard on his knee.
George Cassidy: It’ll take more than four seconds to figure this one out!
Truth Waters: I don’t know if that’s the origin of the name, but he’s got it on nonetheless. And Teresa Tomas ever so close to the countout!
FOUR! Wilson continues to try and pulls himself towards the ropes but puts more pain on his knee, then falls to the mat as Teresa Tomas barely makes it into the ring. Richie Travis calls off the countout but it is questionable, as the Redneck Princess immediately collapses back to the outside. ONE! The official turns back to the ring action, where Wilson I lying on his back.
ONE!
TWO!
Wilson sits up and stop the count. Sennosuke bang the mat, urging himself to hold on to the move. TWO! Wilson then desperately tries to roll himself over and reverse the move, but Sennosuke has it locked on solid. THREE!
Truth Waters: Teresa Tomas again being slowly counted out as Richie Travis tries to do two things at once.
FOUR! Richie Travis turns back to the action as Teresa Tomas makes her way onto the apron – he lets her off with his, not counting her for going the whole nine yards. Wilson is screaming in pain, his arm hanging inches from the canvas, almost beginning to tap out. Wilson holds out a little longer.
George Cassidy: Damien Wilson’s leg is going to fall off!
Truth Waters: Sennosuke surely has this mach locked up… Wait! Look at Tomas!
The crowd pops as Tomas flies off the top turnbuckle, gravity pulling her straight towards Sennosuke, trying to break the submission. In a desperation effort, Sennosuke pulls back as hard as he can on Wilson’s leg. The figure-four victim, unaware of Tomas being a fraction of a second away from breaking the hold, bring his hand down to the canvas and bangs it furiously. Richie Travis calls for the bell as Teresa Tomas crashes down on Sennosuke.
Truth Waters: OH DEAR!! What an end to a great match! Tomas made a good effort, but not soon enough for the redneck, unfortunately.
George Cassidy: The gal is almost sobered up after wrestling this match… and that’s saying something!
Richie Travis raises Jiro Sennosuke’s hand in the hair.
James Brunt: The winner... Jiro Sennosuke!
The Trackdown II
FEATURING: CHARLES KENSRUE, LAURA WILLIAMS
AUTHOR: TRENT
There’s a particular feeling about the location that the camera currently presents. In the basement of the Van Andel Arena, the tunneled halls seem unforgivingly lonely, with each door presently shut, save for one noticeably bright-red coloured one, which is open slightly and reveals light. We find ourselves inside the room momentarily, where AWC rookie Charles Kensrue sits by his lonesome. His only company is the other end of the cell phone he is speaking into. We join the conversation, which is full of pauses when Kensrue lets the other speak.
Charles Kensrue: Yes, of course I know I’m being followed (pause) What am I supposed to do about it? (pause) What do you mean, do something about it? There’s nothing I can do about it! (pause) It’s probably just a reporter, you know how they are (pause) Well, like I said, I’m in AWC now. If they know who I am, which I’m assuming they do, they’ll be able to follow me easily. (pause) What do you mean how?! Wherever AWC goes, the fans know about it! She might not be a fan, but the information is available! (pause) OK, I’ll try and handle it. Doesn’t make me pleased with this situation I’ve been put in. (pause) Well, this is the exact reason I left the CIA, dammit! (pause) Okay, I’ll do what I can. (pause) Yeah, I’ll give you a call sometime next week to let you know. (pause) Bye.
Charles closes the cell phone and impulsively throws the phone angrily across the room following the conversation with who we assume is his former boss. He then takes note of the cameraman standing there, transmitting his every move, but seems unaffected by his presence.
Charles Kensrue: You’re here. Good. Let’s get down to -
Charles hesitates for a second as he looks to the shadowy entrance of his dressing room, where he sees a lurking figure in the doorway. Once the lurker is discovered, they dart away, and in the blink of an eye Charles Kensrue is on his feet and racing out of the dressing room. The camera rotates quickly and follows the former CIA agent into the hallway, where he pursues a woman trying to evade him. Kensrue shows impressive speed and agility, catching up to her in no time. He grabs her upper arm from behind, turns her quickly then presses her against the brick wall, getting right in her face.
Charles Kensrue: What the hell were you doing in my dressing room?!
His frightening voice intimidates the lurker, but she doesn’t respond, merely breathes heavily and stares him right in the eye.
Charles Kensrue: I’m going to ask you a few simple questions and you’re going to answer them, do you understand?
Kensrue makes it clear that this is a demand, and not even close to a request. The woman remains silent, still trying to regain her breath.
Charles Kensrue: Who are you? Why are you following me?
She hesitates for a second, looking away from her questioner, but then finally responds.
Laura Williams: I’m a reporter. I’m following you for the same reason any broadcaster in America would...
Charles Kensrue: To get my story? Well, you heard it. Everything you need to know was at the conference last week.
Laura Williams: (smiles) Yeah? And what if I told you I heard different after the conference?
Charles Kensrue: I would call you a liar.
Laura Williams: Right back at you, asshole! I know there’s more to it than what your former boss says.
Charles Kensrue: You’re wrong. And you can go tell your little boss that, too. Now get out of here before I call security.
Laura Williams: Bold statement for someone who used to be above any cop in America.
Charles Kensrue: I’m past that now. I’m an AWC wrestler, that’s it.
Laura Williams: Don’t kid yourself, Kensrue.
Charles Kensrue: I’m not. You’ve already done that enough yourself.
With those final words, Charles promptly lets the woman go and heads back towards his dressing room. The woman brushes off her blouse and ties back her hair, smiling.
Laura Williams: (to herself) I’m not done with you, Charles Kensrue. Not even close.
The camera fades out as she turns and heads in the opposite direction of her adversary.
I Feel So Dirty. So Very Dirty
FEATURING: ADAM DICK, AIMZ
AUTHORS: JOE SCHMIDT AND KATIE
King Dick is walking around the backstage. Probably looking for Ellis to have sex because he’s oblivious to all of that Chainz shit (not a fan of Faces of Death), but sadly he cannot find her.
He’s obviously frustrated; he planned on his penis being licked on at this point but alas that was not to be... yet.
I guess it’s only fitting that King Dick happens to run into the next best vagina; Aimz.
And boy is she happy to see the Transatlantic King.
Aimz: How’s the crown, champ?
Adam Dick: Away with you, whore, before I decide to smite you to the mighty beyond.
Aimz: Right right, like you can beat me. Didn’t we do this last week?
Adam Dick: LAST WEEK WAS A FLUKE! You think I work where it doesn’t matter? Pffft, I’m a God baby. I KEEP my titles, not maintain my record. It’s a movie star status you know.
Aimz: Are you fucking delusional?
Adam doesn’t know how to respond to that. OF FUCKING COURSE HE IS, idiot.
Aimz: Look, I even watched the tape. You may have had it in your pocket but you got greedy. You’re lucky Darcy got involved when he did or I’d have killed your back with that chair.
Adam Dick: You’re saying your girlfriend saved me? Get the fuck out of here, Dyke. Maybe come back when you learn to follow up on your sexual offers — do you have any idea how long I waited in that boiler room? It’s fucking dark, and murky!
Aimz: Whatever, you’re pretty disgusting, and that place doesn’t exactly scream “fuck me against the wall.”
Adam Dick: Surprising, I thought every setting screams that to you.
Aimz: What? Listen, just give me my title shot soon because you know I deserve it.
Adam Dick: I WILL DO NO SUCH THING.
Aimz: Suit yourself. But you and I both know that I should be holding that belt — er, crown. Maybe if you get the successful defense under your belt, you’ll be able to catch a night’s rest. But until then, KNOW that your reign is tainted.
Aimz continues her walk down the hall, leaving Adam Dick standing by his lonesome.
Adam Dick: Oh yeah? Well... fuck you! Dyke!
And then he nods to himself.
Adam Dick: Told her off...
The Unsolved Mystery Of Shawn Harris' Resignation
FEATURING: VINCE JONES, SHAWN HARRIS
AUTHOR: JAY
The camera slowly fades in and the screen is black. All of a sudden the familiar voice of 'The Violence' Vince Jones can be heard in the background.
Vince Jones: This the shit that happens when you fuck around with V. Jones...
All of a sudden the camera fades into a parking lot outside of the Hinkel Fieldhouse the location of Fresh! just a week ago. Shawn Harris can be seen standing outside of his rental car feeling around in his pockets for his keys. All of a sudden out of nowhere 'The Violence' Vince Jones comes charging onto the scene and nails Shawn Harris from behind square in the back with his black, Louisville slugger bat. Shawn Harris drops to his knees grimacing in pain. Vince Jones snatches him by his hair and glares down at him in fury.
Vince Jones: Son you fucked up big time last week! You dropped the fuckin' ball and lost our tag match, bitch!!
Vince Jones slams Shawn Harris' head square into the side of the rental car. Vince does so again and again in succession. Finally Vince Jones lifts Shawn Harris to his feet whirls him around and slams him head first through the glass of the driver's side window. Shawn Harris rolls backwards and falls to the ground unconscious as Vince Jones looks down at Shawn Harris and shakes his head in disgust. Vince Jones can once again be heard speaking in the background.
Vince Jones: ...yo punk ass gets silenced! Any questions, A Dubb C?? Enjoy your early retirement, Harris!
The camera slowly fades to black as Vince Jones exits the scene.
Jack Murphy vs Sebastian Archer
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
A sudden jolt of guitar riff is met around the arena by a litany of boos as 'Seven Faces' by Slayer hits. There is no mass of explosions or spectacular strobe effects, just a simple spotlight on the entrance to the ring arena as all around fades to darkness. In silhouette 'The Bull' Jack Murphy is displayed, his arms stretched out in a circle above his head. Without another moment, the screen is removed and Murphy breaks the circle, moving straight ahead with purpose. The spotlight follows him and as he reaches the ring the house lights fade up until he is left in the ring on his own, looking around and basking in his own self-importance
James Brunt: Coming down the aisle, weighing in at 278 lbs from Kildare, Ireland... JACK MUUUUURRRRRPHY!
George Cassidy: Here comes Jack Murphy, who last week got involved with that “Special Project” involving Pearl’s sister.
Truth Waters: Why are you saying it like that?
George Cassidy: Special project, giggidy giggidy giggidy!
George shifts his head from side to side with a suggestive grin on his face
Truth Waters: SHUT UP Cassidy you’re going to get us fired!
George Cassidy: Er… just call the match!
And out of nowhere Kuja’s theme from Final Fantasy hits and all the computer game nerds in the arena create a deafening roar! Then from behind the curtain Sebastian Archer Emerges!
George Cassidy: Listen to those Final Fantasy fans scream! They love the sound of this music!
Truth Waters: I can’t tell if they’re cheering Archer or the Music?
Murphy stands with his feet shoulder width apart and his hands on his hips whilst rolling his eyes as Archer focuses his gaze deep in to the eyes of The Bull. Archer enters the ring still glaring at his opponent and Murphy raises the corner of his mouth projecting a look of disgust in the direction of The Edge of Sanity.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy and Sebastian Archer staring each other down!
George Cassidy: And Jack being typical Jack by thinking Archer is a piece of scum!
Joseph Reid sounds the bell and the match gets underway!
Murphy cricks his neck from side to side before grunting and perusing Archer and it’s not long before the two men lock horns. Murphy easily takes the test of Strength using him tree truck like arms; forcing Archer down to his knees. Murphy applies a standard head long in an early attempt to drain Archer’s energy levels down. Archer however reacts quickly by pushing off his feet and sending Murphy front first in to the ropes. Archer quickly launches himself like a lion, following up with a clothes line connecting viciously with the back of Jack Murphy’s head!
Truth Waters: Sebastian Archer will be looking to make up lost ground this week after loosing out to Red Rock’s rival Captain Suleimon last week!
Murphy clutches the back of his head with a pained expression across his face and Archer wastes little time by swing Murphy round so they are once again face to face. Archer proceeds with a barrage of body shots to ware The Bull down he then takes Murphy’s arm in order to whip him against the against set of ring ropes. Murphy rebounds back towards Archer who shows Jack Murphy an example of a drop kick! Murphy is sent crashing down to the canvas followed by an early cover on Archer’s part!
ONE!
TWO!
Truth Waters: No, that won’t do – Murphy throws a shoulder up!
Archer pulls his shoulder off the mat and maintains control with a couple of closed fists to the head. Archer lifts Murphy off the mat by the head and drives his knee viciously in to Murphy's gut. Murphy leans over holding his gut whilst Archer rebounds of the ropes towards Murphy again.
Truth Waters: I think Murphy is thinking too much about wiping Sasha’s ass to be focused on the match!
George Cassidy: How can you even THINK about talking about the greatest wrestler alive in that way?
On those words Murphy counters with HUGE closed fist straight in the face of Sebastian Archer! And the ring rumbles and shakes with the force of Archer slamming down to the mat. Archer lays flat on his back clutching his nose, unsure what just happened.
Truth Waters: Jesus Christ! He might have just broken Sebastian Archer’s nose!
George Cassidy: I think Murphy was getting a bit frustrated by Archer having the upper hand!
Joseph Reid is waving his finger at Jack Murphy with a disapproving tone in his voice. Murphy shrugs and shakes his head as if he had done nothing wrong. Archer slowly gets back to his feet but he is still a little hazy, he hasn’t realized that blood is flowing heavily from his nose. Murphy observes Archer getting back to his feet and shoves Joseph Reid to one side against the ropes before resuming his brutal onslaught!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy, what is he?
George Cassidy: He’s one mean mother fu-
Truth Waters: We don’t use the F-Bomb Cass!
George Cassidy: Er, we do…
Truth Waters: Apparently not when Josh’s writing.
Murphy wraps his strong hands round Sebastian Archer’s neck, which is savagely complimented by a brutal head but, but Murphy sustains his throat hold not letting Archer fall to the floor. The Bull tosses Archer in to the corner and barrages him with some harsh punches to the ribs and capitalizes with an Irish whip to the opposing corner. Archer is now slumped back in to the corner and Murphy stands back to size him up for his trademark move…
Truth Waters: Here comes the Bull Charge!
George Cassidy: Archer would have a better chance in front of a freight train!
Murphy throws himself in Sebastian Archer’s direction and just as he comes round he gets instantly flattened by The Bull Charge!!!
Truth Waters: To be honest I’m surprised Joseph Reid hasn’t called an end to this match; Sebastian Archer is in no fit state to carry on, look at his nose!
George Cassidy: It looks like a fat chit just sat on his face whilst at the same time being on her period!
Truth Waters: …
Murphy allows Sebastian to finally slump to the floor thus allowing Murphy to catch a brief breath.
Truth Waters: Murphy has this strange technical powerhouse style; he knows exactly how to wear an opponent down.
George Cassidy: ANYONE could punch someone in the nose and wear them down.
Murphy cracks his knuckles and gets back down to business appearing confident in his dominance of the match and his abilities. Murphy takes a handful of Archer’s hair then he hoists him back to his feet! Archer is glazed over and doesn’t appear to have much fight left in him when OUT OF NOWHERE!
George Cassidy: MAH GAWD! LOW BLOW!
Truth Waters: Sebastian Archer getting some swift revenge after that horrible crack to the face!
Jack Murphy’s eyes cross and the crowd roar as the shoe is now on the other foot! Archer trembles back to his feet and shakes out the cobwebs whilst wiping the blood from his face. Archer rebounds off the ropes to aid a diving knee drop to the head of Jack Murphy. He continues the uphill assault on the larger man by applying a choke hold by squeezing Murphy’s throat between his forearm and bicep. Murphy acts out by kicking his feet against the map as Archer reduces the air traveling to Murphy’s brain. Murphy manages to muster up enough energy pull himself and Archer up to a standing position!
Truth Waters: Archer is trying to go for a quick solution with that sleeper hold!
George Cassidy: Much to the crowd’s dismay…
”BOOORRRING, BOOORRRRING, BOOOORING!”
The jibes from the crowd appear to be hitting nerves with Archer and distracts him slightly, just enough for Murphy to drive an elbow in to the ribs of Archer several times in order to disable the hold.
Truth Waters: The crowds are cheering now; I think they want to see some relentless violence!
George Cassidy: I didn’t think they’d be cheering for Jack Murphy…
Murphy and Archer now exchange furious punches but due to the amount of blood Archer has lost through his nose he is much weaker so Murphy quickly takes the upper hand! Murphy tosses Archer once again in to a corner before backing up to the opposite corner. Murphy struts over to Archer then snatches his wrist in his hand and performs an Irish whip, but instead of letting go he hauls Archer back towards him and stops his trail of motion as his knee is brought harshly in to Archer’s gut.
Truth Waters: It’s looking PRETTY bleak for Archer now!
Archer splutters as the wind is force from his lungs by the power of Murphy’s attack. Murphy sighs as he begins to grow tired of his opponent and at his point he signals for the end!
George Cassidy: Murphy has grown tiresome of Sebastian Archer!
Murphy executes a suplex and sustains the hold as he allows the blood to rush to Archer’s head and swiftly follows up with a kneeling piledriver, or FALL FROM GRACE!
Murphy makes the cover!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner… JACK MURPHY!
George Cassidy: The Bull charges onward!
Meetings
FEATURING: ZSASZ, ???
AUTHOR: JEREMY J.
A cameraman has been reported to go to the backstage area, where a closed door with a “ZSASZ” bolted onto the door. There is a muffled discussion coming from behind the closed door.
Male Voice: So... will this plan of ours go into effect soon?
Zsasz: Of course. I’ve already set it all up for you.
There is a sounding of brief laughter.
Male Voice: Excellent. It’s been a long time since I was in the wrestlin’ ring. After that SCWF debacle.
Zsasz: That’s over and done with, Farren. Bryce Stevens didn’t know how to use someone like you. He couldn’t work you into the cop-killing angle I was involved with against Stevens. But you managed to get some acclaim in some independent wrestling venues.
Male Voice: Aye, but not enough acclaim. It seems to me that this establishment is the only place where I can fully showcase my talents. And I can mix it up with a little boxing. But when I get my hands on that fuckin’ thief...
Zsasz: Don’t think about that now, my boy. As far as I know, he isn’t in the building. He’s going through some sort of personal crisis. Besides, don’t blow your vengeful motives yet. It’s too cliché in the wrestling world. All I can say is have patience.
A cell phone is heard ringing. Zsasz smiles at his cell phone, even though everyone in the arena and in TV land can’t see it.
Zsasz: Finally, some bidders.
Male Voice: Who is it?
Zsasz: Sannosuke Sensui. He’s one of many men interested in Fukai Mori’s mizuage.
Male Voice: This isn’t the 1930’s where a geisha’s virginity was sold to the highest bidder. Why don’t you fuck her yourself?
Zsasz: I don’t want to corrupt this one. I like her purity. Excuse me a moment.
The sound of footfalls is heard coming towards the closed from the inside. A moment later, the door opens and Zsasz answers his cell phone.
Zsasz: Moshi-Moshi?
Zsasz becomes aware that a cameraman is in his face. His sapphire blue eyes blaze with anger.
Zsasz: You son of a bitch!
Zsasz wrestles with the cameraman, knocking him to the ground, taking the camera and throwing it onto the floor, destroying the camera’s feed.
Turkish Delight Sucks!
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY, D'AVID, RED ROCK
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
SHAZAM!
Before our very eyes waiting around backstage is Sarah Kennedy no less! She appears to be sporting that type of expression which can only mean she is being forced to do something against her will… and no she isn’t be raped. She rolls her eyes as she knocks on the door she happens to be standing next to. As she grumbles to her self further the door quickly opens and standing in front of her wearing nothing but a pair of tight white Y-Fronts is Red Rock’s ginger Dutch odd ball of a friend D’avid!
D’avid: Hello to you Sarah Kennedy!
Sarah Kennedy takes a couple of steps back from the near naked Dutchman whilst her face falls to petrified.
D’avid: Hey Red! It is the GORGEOUS Sarah Kennedy I think she is here to interview you!
D’avid grins at Sarah Kennedy whilst Red Rock makes some noises in the back ground, it would appear that he trying to get dressed.
D’avid: Sarah I just want to say that I fucking love you!
Sarah Kennedy: Err… thanks D’avid.
D’avid: No really I really fucking love you, will you spit on my face?
Sarah Kennedy: What?!
Just at that moment Red Rock shoves D’avid to the side followed by the sound of crashing mop buckets and ginger Dutch screams of agony. Red Rock now stands in front of Sarah Kennedy grinning relentlessly. The shirt he is wearing is back to front and Red Rock doesn’t seem to realise either.
Sarah Kennedy: What is going on in there?
Red Rock: It’s not what you think… we weren’t having sex D’avid always wanders around in his pants.
Sarah Kennedy: And I’m sure you like to wear your shirts back to front…
Red Rock: Hey shut up Kennedy! I was getting dressed… I’m not a bummer!
Sarah Kennedy: Sure…anyway I’ve been asked to interview you. When I say asked I mean told and when I say told I mean forced… against my will.
Red Rock: Oh right… mmm well Sarah Kennedy it’s interesting you should say that you see the thing is this…
And abruptly Red Rock presents his middle figure straight in the face of Kennedy and a stupid childish grin on his face. Sarah Kennedy rolls her eyes and moves Red Rock’s hand away from her face.
Sarah Kennedy: Can we just get this over with please?
Red Rock: FINE!
Sarah Kennedy: Two weeks ago you, for some reason took a dump in Captain Suleimon’s bag
Red Rock: That was Patrick Mapeleaf’s idea!
Sarah Kennedy: Sure… anyway Captain Suleimon seems to have developed a hard vendetta against you since the Christmas Party over something you said… we STILL don’t know what it is you said. But all that in mind he has challenged you to one hell of a brutal sounding match! An Ottoman Torture Chamber match!
Red Rock: Yeah I know what the fuck is one of those anyway? Sounds pretty GAY to me!
Sarah Kennedy: You will have to face Captain Suleimon in the boiler room surrounded by medieval torture implements, and the most notable of those is the dreaded iron maiden!
Red Rock: Oh yeah, Iron Maiden are bloody awful aren’t they?
Sarah Kennedy tries to hide her frustration at Red Rock’s idiocy.
Sarah Kennedy: The iron maiden is a medieval torture tool in which a person gets locked inside an iron coffin with spikes on the inside.
Red Rock: Oh right…
Red Rock’s face begins to turn a shade of white as he begins to understand where this is going.
Sarah Kennedy: And in order to win you need to shut, and LOCK your opponent inside the iron maiden. Now Red Rock will you be accepting Captain Suleimon’s challenge?
Red Rock pauses for a moment and ponders on this morbid stipulation.
Red Rock: You know, I don’t know what Captain Suleimon’s problem is but this guy cost me the Frontier title at Winter Warfare and that cost me a lot of money in bonuses and if I got that money maybe things would have been better in my private life and Boolie wouldn’t have left. I don’t know what this thing I’m supposed to have said is, but if this guy really wants to fight it out with me then fine! And if the Turkish people are anything like Turkish delight I won’t have a problem!
…
Red Rock: See what I did there… I was saying the Turkish suck because Turkish delight sucks.
Sarah Kennedy: I like Turkish delight.
Red Rock: Oh fuck you! And fuck Suleimon tell him and all the sand he has in his vagina that he’s on!
Red Rock slams the door in Sarah Kennedy’s face and silence falls upon the backstage area.
Hate vs Chainz
STIPULATION: WEAPONS
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: JAMIE FLETCHER
Without any warning, Marduk's 'Dracul Va Domni Din Nou In Transilvania' begins to grind away at the speakers, filling the audio system with doom and darkness. Hate appears in the entranceway, with a black gas mask covering his head and wearing a long, black trenchcoat. As he walks to the ringside, Hate shouts verbal abuse at the fans through his mask before removing it at the ringside, revealing his painted head. Hate slides into the ring.
James Brunt: The following is a Weapons match! Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds… “THE FIFTH HORSEMAN” HATE!
Truth Waters: Hate’s not garnering much love here…
George Cassidy: Nobody loves him Truth, they just accept that in current circumstances anybody with any heart hates the man…
“Cure” by The Wild plays and Chainz comes out onto the ramp alone. Chainz walks down the ramp to a huge level of heat surpassing anything seen tonight by far. The reaction almost makes Hate seem like a fan favorite. Sliding under the bottom rope he waits for the officials.
George Cassidy: Many felt Chainz crossed a line last week.
Truth Waters: He didn’t just cross it, he leapt right over it! I have no doubt that a full criminal investigation is being relaunched –
George Cassidy: We’re going to lose our monster heel, Truth! We can’t have that!
Truth Waters: Cassidy, this psycho should be behind bars!
The fans actually cheer a bit as Hate turns to eye them as he slips his trenchcoat off his powerful shoulders.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Birmingham, Alabama, weighing in at 295 pounds… CHAINZ!
The reluctant cheering turns into joyous booing.
Truth Waters: Grievous Bodily Harm match would be a more fitting title for this match but instead AWC settled with the orthodox name of Weapons match.
George Cassidy: It’ll be a tight contest. Chainz has a major weight advantage but as we’ve seen time and time again, that doesn’t seem to be important when your opponent is The Nondivine Juggernaut.
After his antics last week the most hated man in the AWC Chainz stands in one corner of the ring with a sick, twisted glare in his eyes. Meanwhile Hate finishes stretching as the referee calls for the ring bell. Hate continues his warm up not rushing himself to start the fight.
George Cassidy: Chainz is under so much heat, it could spoil the match.
Truth Waters: When have you ever cared about the quality of the m-
George Cassidy: Shut up a sec… where’s Tracy?!
Truth Waters: Have you NO class?
Chainz isn’t as patient throwing himself at Hate as soon as the bell is rung. Hate dodges Chainz’s sloppy reckless attack, having side stepped Hate wastes no time in making a judgment of where to land a striking elbow. Kissing the back of Chainz’ head perfectly Hate knocks Chainz off balance. Grabbing hold of the rope Chainz attempts to gain stability but his grip is broken by Hate who hits a devastating backhand chop across the arm of Chainz.
George Cassidy: This is going to be amazing. Did anyone hire Hate to do this?
Truth Waters: I don’t know.
The AWC’s sickest son of a gun looks helpless as he falls into the middle of the ring at the mercy of Hate. However Hate’s follow up leaves a little to be desired, the classic clothesline is predicted by Chainz a man who prides himself on his smarts. The ropes being so close are easy for Chainz to gain momentum from, he bounces off of them and grabs Hate’s head in a moving front face lock, obviously attempting a spinning DDT but a combination of a lack of momentum and Hate’s freshness allow Hate to stand his ground. Chainz is pushed off by Hate who trigger lifts his knee, stabbing it into Chainz’s stomach.
George Cassidy: Booooring…
Truth Waters: For all those people who thought this would be mindless botch bang botch…
George Cassidy: (cutting him off) We are sorry. Our wrestlers have a little ability.
With Chainz hunched in the middle of the ring Hate looks for opportunities to capitalize on Chainz’s misfortunes. Exploding off of the rope’s Chainz lifts his foot into the air and drills it through the head of Chainz. Chainz spins with the impact and from behind Hate is able to apply a waist lock. Asserting his dominance Hate forces Chainz down to the mat and with the waist lock still firmly keeping him in control. Hate then begins to lift his lower body up off the mat and while balancing on his upper body drop his two knees into the lower back of Chainz.
George Cassidy: Look at Hate, a man on a mission with a goal. That goal – rip apart Chainz limb from limb and stop him getting to Bloodlust.
Truth Waters: Neither of these men are going to be looking fresh once they get through with one another.
The camera zooms in on the face of Hate. A twisted twinkle can be identified by even the most unsocial of fans as he lifts his legs again, balances and drops them into the back of Chainz… drilling Chainz’s upper body into the unforgiving AWC ring canvas. Hate notices the camera is watching him and before he hits the third knee drop’s he gives the camera a little wink. Then with such malice and suspense he raises his knee’s, balances and THWACK! The knee’s jam into the spine of Chainz for a third time. You can see the pain clearly getting to Chainz, the camera focuses on him. His eyes bloodshot and his arms in a frenzy, once second reaching for the ropes and then the next second trying to grab Hate never coordinated enough to achieve anything.
“FUCK HIM HATE! FUCK HIM UP!”
Truth Waters: What does he want with us?
George Cassidy: I think I know.
Getting off of Chainz, Hate in response points to the commentary/announcers area and the crowd pop like five year olds for Barnie. Never before have so many people decided to cheer for Hate, however in this match against Chainz the devil himself would be getting pops.
Truth Waters: What are you doing Cassidy?
Getting out of the ring Hate makes his way to the announcers’ table and George Cassidy wastes no time in offering his chair to Hate. The Fifth Horseman, the hired fists of the AWC? of Ellis Nash? of God? of Mankind? Who knows??? takes the chair and wastes no time getting straight back into the ring. Like a warrior about to go to war but with the attitude of a drug lord about to get his payday, Hate begins to rhythmically beat the end of the steel chair his hands hug against the mat.
George Cassidy: I, er, don’t have a chair.
Truth Waters: Here…
Truth stands up and moves over the timekeeper, quickly uprooting the unfortunate man to take his chair and hand it to Cassidy.
Truth Waters: How’s that?
George Cassidy: You can’t just take the timekeeper’s chair!
Truth Waters: I’m Truth Waters, alright? Can’t I get no thanks around here?
George Cassidy: Well… thanks.
Propping himself onto his knee’s Chainz is left wide open… he looks up into the eyes of evil… the eyes of an ideologically torn son of a bitch with a job to do… the chair is brutal, stiff, metal and it falls from the sky like judgment itself. It hit’s Chainz unfortunately for Chainz he doesn’t fall backwards instead he slumps forwards on his knees.
“FUCK HIM UP, HATE! FUCK HIM UP!”
A SECOND CHAIR SHOT!
A THRID CHAIR SHOT!! The chair begins to shape around Chainz’s head. The crowd in time chant “FUCK HIM UP…” And again… the fourth and last time Hate crashes the chair down into the skull of Chainz, the chair breaks into Two as it bounces off of the skull of Chainz. Hate throws the legs of the chair down to the mat and looks down on Chainz. The evil bastard slumped down head in his knees.
Truth Waters: Sorry for the silence but these actions speak for themselves. There is no need to sell those chair shots.
Reaching down Hate lifts Chainz’s head up and shows it to the cameras… Chainz’s face is covered in blood. The blood had already stained the ring mat in seconds, it had covered his t shirt and now was all over Hate’s hands. Hate throws Chainz back down and clinching his fist he lifts it into the air. The blood dribbles between his fingers, an image surely to be remembered by hardcore fans for a long time.
Going back to the fallen body of Chainz, Hate picks him and throws him into the corner of the ring. Debating briefly Hate leaves the ring and going under the ring he pulls out a box… opening the box he applies to his fists a pair of barbwire knuckle dusters. Then getting back into the ring he goes straight to work on Chainz… Mounting the first turnbuckle, giving himself a little bit of room to exploit Hate drops the first barbwire assisted punch into the skull of Chainz. Skillfully he makes sure the little bits of barbwire hit the wounds which where still bleeding attempting to make them gush even more. As if it was the WWE itself the crowd chants “One!, Two!, Three!, Four!…” However unlike the WWE Hate just won’t stop… “Fifteen… Sixteen…” The referee pulls Hate off of Chainz and watches Chainz fall down. Chainz seems as if he is out for the count. The referee moves Hate away from Chainz and then begins to count the knockout.
George Cassidy: This match can’t end.
One! Two! Three! Four! Five! Six!... Hate can’t watch and doesn’t think he has earnt himself the full whack yet and stops the referee. Turning the referee around he asks Lars Larsson to check out his back for cuts… the referee checks but he can’t find anything… by now the crowd are way past ten but the referee seems more concerned with Hate than Chainz.
Truth Waters: Hate’s keeping Lars Larsson close as Chainz struggles to recover!
It backfires on Hate as Chainz finds the strength to kick the referee with one leg, the referee falls into Hate. Hitting the mat Hate’s head accidentally lands on his BARBWIRE KNUCKS!
“YOU FUCKED UP! YOU FUCKED UP!”
Mimicking a pantomime crowd the AWC fans boo and hiss as Chainz wobbles onto his feet and regains complete control of his movements. It’s not long until Hate is back on his feet and the two are standing just an arm’s length apart from one another. Chainz sniggers knowing he has a few seconds’ advantage and he uses it well hitting Hate on the chin with a right punch. Chainz explodes with rapid loose punches as Hate is forced into the corner of the ring, Grabbing Hate’s right hand he Irish-whips him across the ring but Hate reverses it throwing Chainz into the corner, at the last second Chainz extended his arm and tip’s himself up and over the nearing Hate. Turning around to face Chainz, Hate has no time to counter a stiff right, the fist of Chainz lands again perfectly in the same spot as the first… Chainz spins, Hate pounces… Half Nelson… Hate has the half nelson in hold with the BARBWIRE BRASS KNUCKLES on his fists.
George Cassidy: He’s going to rip the throat of Chainz. He’s going to shred his neck up.
Squirming like a child with soap in its mouth Chainz throws his body left and right but the little rascal just can’t find any avenue of escape. Releasing the submission is weak Hate releases it and pushes Chainz forward into the ropes… Chainz holds onto the rope and exits the ring to the fans disgust.
Truth Waters: Good plan.
George Cassidy: Great move. Smart wrestler.
Truth Waters: Shame about everything else about him.
Parading on the outside Chainz plays up to the crowd and loves every moment of the heart almost feeding off of it. One girl in the crowd about 12 stands up and shouts at Chainz through the fence and respecting no boundaries as per normal Chainz spits back at her. The girl looks at Chainz and cheers as she watches Hate’s fist fly into the back of Sloan’s head. Chainz falls to the floor at the impact of Hate’s ring apron to outside fist of fury BARBWIRE assisted shite!
George Cassidy: From such height, such impact, it’s sickening. It actually makes want to be sick Truth.
Truth Waters: Just not over my new suit.
Before Chainz can get down Hate finger locks him and shoots him into the ring steps with enough savvy to turn him around when he’s on his way so his back connects full on with the metal for extra shizzle and pain! Taking the statement “walk it off” as his motto Chainz begins to stagger away from Hate and around the ring. Reaching into his pocket’s Chainz pulls out something but refuses to show it, Hate unrealising runs around the ring apron to give chase… he approaches Chainz thick and fast with little time to maneuver away from… the powder to the eyes… Chainz’s aim is perfect momentarily blinding Hate.
George Cassidy: Out of nowhere!
Locking both arms under and over Hate’s, Chainz scores a belly to belly suplex on the outside flooring. The referee urges Chainz to bring the match back into the ring and Chainz agrees throwing the slightly blind Hate back into the ring. Going under the ring Chainz searches for the correct weapon and finally produces a cheese grater. Getting back into the ring Chainz holds the common sandwich making item into the air. It is a normal run of the mill cut your hovest and grate your cheese grater, nothing special.
George Cassidy: Cheese on toast?
Truth Waters: Don’t you mean HATE ON TOAST???
George Cassidy: OH MY…
Standing behind Hate, Chainz connects with a stiff kick to the spine to keep him seated for the long ride. The blood which so freely flowing down his face had now stopped, his t shirt was now completely bathed in blood and his face unrecognizable behind the red liquid. Despite being a sick, sick man Chainz has a passion for wrestling and a passion for delivering top matches to the crowd. Holding Hate’s chin in place, Chainz moves the grater close to the forehead of Hate and with ease begins to rub it… he breaks into the skin but Hate shoots up… letting out a roaring soundbite of pain he knocks Chainz off and down to the mat.
George Cassidy: Shit that has got to hurt.
Truth Waters: Puss. E.
Reminiscent to that of an escaped zoo lion having been held in oppressive captivity for years Hate goes insane with striking stomps each executed with maximum damage intended. Trying to escape Chainz fails and Hate allows him to stand but Chainz walks right into his trap, Hate kicks Chainz in the gut and then coming from the side upper cut’s Chainz with his right elbow knocking Chainz into the ropes. Chainz falls off of the ropes with no control into the path of a drop kick from Hate which grounds him. Leaving no second to waste Hate covers Chainz.
ONE!
TWO!
Truth Waters: Expected.
Chainz kicks out as Hate with great haste lifts Chainz up from the mat sticking him straight into a side headlock. Moving into the middle of the ring Hate lifts Chainz into the air forcing the blood to run to Chainz’s head. The crowd chant and as they approach ten Hate drops Chainz head first into the mat and rolls him up for the second pin in quick succession.
ONE!
TWO!
Truth Waters: What can I say Hate just can’t do it, he has the knife in the back but he just can’t twist it.
Again Chainz kicks out to the frustration of Hate. Who again keeps the match moving at his pace by scooping Chainz up off the canvas and placing him in another side headlock for punishment. However Hate goes for the element of surprise the second time around, as he lifts Chainz up… at the last possible point he stops, drops Chainz and hits a snap DDT. The unexpecting Chainz can do nothing as Hate covers him.
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Let me guess all part of a master plan?
Somehow again Chainz musters the ability to kick out and defy the odds. Getting up Hate goes to the corner of the ring mounts the turnbuckle. Preparing himself Hate waits for the right moment, Hate jumps into the air and hits a five star frog splash any cruiserweight would have been proud of, getting great height and distance.
Truth Waters: Cassidy you hit the nail on the head my friend!
ONE!
TWO!
The bastard of AWC escapes against all odds. The frog splash has connected wrong and Hate’s knee has broken one of the rehealing wounds. The blood of Chainz again begins to pour onto the ring mat staining another section of the canvas.
George Cassidy: Oh, Chainz is bleeding freely…
Truth Waters: Do I sound twisted at all when I say it’s what he deserves?
Following up the pin Hate leaves the ring and lifts up the ring apron. Like an expert builder in a hardware store he ponders over which instrument of pain he wanted to retrieve. Hate pulls a table out from underneath the ring and lifts it up and puts it under the bottom rope. Sliding under the bottom rope Hate unhooks the table legs and sets it up in the middle of the ring ready for some Chainz dropping.
Going over to the body of Chainz, Hate tugs him over to the table. Hate is able to take his time due to pure beating he has given Chainz so far. He lines him up in front of the table (so he is facing away from it)… whips him… Chainz reverses it… Hate pings into the ropes… off he comes… into Chainz’s bear like hands… Chainz drives his knee into the stomach of Hate, Double under hook arms… CHICKEN WING SUPLEX… Hate goes through the table!
George Cassidy: Surely this match has to be over, Chainz is going to win. Hate isn’t going to eat tonight because he isn’t earning himself any money.
Truth Waters: Garbage cans it is!
Neither of the men move, like a shark the referee circles them and after a brief thought begins to count.
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!
Chainz sits up.
The referee stops…
Truth Waters: He’s going for the pin!!
Chainz falls… BUT ONTO HATE!!
The referee throws himself down onto his knees…
ONE!
TWO!
HATE KICKS OUT! The crowd is in shock as Hate doesn’t lose despite being drilled through the cold, hard, unforgiving wood of an AWC table.
Truth Waters: Incredible!
George Cassidy: In all my time I have never seen two men give it so much on Fresh!, this is just insane.
Getting up onto his feet Chainz waits stalking Hate tracing every last step Hate makes to get up. Finally Hate stumbles into position… Hate isn’t propped up enough and falls down as Chainz runs at him… Chainz spear/Misses! Chainz hits the corner post and falls down to the mat and both men are down again.
George Cassidy: Again both man are down. It’s now that time of the match where the man who comes out on top is the guy who has spent most time in the gym…
Truth Waters: Or the sick bastard who has been hit more times than the other idiot has.
George Cassidy: Good point.
The referee this time wastes no time counting.
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! SIX! SEVEN!
Hate’s up… Hate’s walking… funny… but still Hate is walking. Chainz is using the corner to get himself up. Taking the barbwire knuckle’s off his left hand he slips them around his wrestling boot. Then In Samoa Joe like fashion runs off to the ropes adjacent to the corner Chainz is getting up from. Ripping off of the ropes he runs at Chainz… BOOT TO THE FACE… BARBWIRE BOOT TO THE FACE!!!!
Truth Waters: HOLY REDNECK!…
George Cassidy: There is more blood than there is Chainz. If you want Bloodlust don’t worry about the PAY PER VIEW, we have brought BLOODLUST TO TELEVISION.
Unable to see and unable to feel his face Chainz must feel as if the match is unwinable slumped in the corner of the ring bruised but Chainz isn’t beaten yet. The smaller but so far proportionally more dominant Hate lifts Chainz out of the corner and onto his feet for more beating. The pounding forearms Hate keeps drumming the back of Chainz with seem insignificant to Chainz who is trying to open his eyes and see through the thick layer of blood that seals them shut.
George Cassidy: It’s a blind match for Chainz now. The crowd are standing Truth, they are into this one so bad.
Hate locks a chicken wing on Chainz. He flips Chainz over so he then has a reverse chicken wing submission on Chainz. He lifts Chainz up on his shoulder in an attempt to hit his finisher The Eleventh Commandment but Chainz fights back and slides down the back of Hate. Then pull Chainz down, Hate rolls up him up for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Chainz can feel the kick out coming and stands up with Hate still on his shoulders. George Cassidy and Truth Waters let out little sighs. The referee stops and watch as Chainz pushes Hate up onto his shoulders. Chainz drops Hate once and before the referee can make a count the sick bastard hoists Hate up again. The arena can feel the match coming to an end as he drops Hate… no Hate twists his legs and scissors takedown at the last second!
Truth Waters: If Chainz had hit the Chain Reaction the match would have been over.
George Cassidy: Chainz fails to hit his finishing move. The trademark which wins him most matches.
Truth Waters: Hate’s going for it, look at him… Hate is putting every last ounce of energy he has left into it.
Hate tightens every muscle in his body trying to increase the tension caused by his feet wrapped around the neck of Chainz like a boa constrictor. Banging both hands against the mat he pushes harder applying as much as he can. The referee watches Chainz face go as bright red as the blood that is covered in. Taking Chainz’ right hand the referee lifts it into the air…
HE DROPS THE HAND ONCE!
Truth Waters: I don’t think Chainz is in Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Neither do I!
HE DROPS THE HAND A SECOND TIME!
Before it could hit the mat a third time Chainz stops it… Chainz manages to keep his hand afloat of the mat by a few millimeters. The referee forces Hate off of Chainz to the crowds displeasure, they would rather see nothing less then Chainz wiped off of this map by Hate.
George Cassidy: He made it! Against the odds, but Chainz made it!
To a chorus of booing the referee Lars unwraps Hate’s legs from the neck of Chainz and pushes Hate into the corner of the ring. Hate gets up and starts to get rowdy in the face of the official. The arena changes the “Fuck him up, Hate!” chants they had been directing at Chainz all night to the referee. The referee is saved at the last second by Chainz, surprisingly! Bashing the referee out of the way Chainz stomps a mudhole in the preoccupied Hate taking him by surprise. Show boating Chainz runs his hand over his own face covering it in blood. He sniffs his blood in another disgusting Chainz moment and lifting it far back he swipes it across the face of Hate. Laughing Chainz lifts his hand up for a second but Hate blocks it. Hate hits one, two… no three right punches to break out of the corner… spinning like a ballerina Hate downs Chainz with a roaring lariat which sends him roughly down.
Truth Waters: HATEBRED! HATEBRED!
George Cassidy: Surely Hate has done it?!
Hate wipes his face and gets as much blood off as he can and then getting down onto his knees he wipes the blood around the mouth of Chainz.
Hate hooks Chainz’ right leg and with his left keeps Chainz’s left down.
Truth Waters: He’s pinning him.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
DING DING DING!
Truth Waters: HATE TAKES IT!
George Cassidy: What a match!
Truth Waters: Chainz defeated on the night when he was trying to prove himself as a legitimate wrestler, after his sickening actions shown last week turned the world – and, if there’s any justice, America’s criminal justice system against him!
George Cassidy: The Fifth Horseman reinforcing his dominance as THE monster of AWC!
Unstipulated... AS YET
FEATURING: BUTTERFLY HAMADA, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD
AUTHOR: SAM LANDRY
The scene starts off with Butterfly Hamada in her locker room, sitting there and getting her shit together. There is a knock on the door.
*BANG! BANG! BANG!*
Butterfly Hamada: I know it’s you, Tim and Liam, so I locked the door.
Tim Martin: (muffled) She locked the door? That vile creature!
Liam Martin: (muffled as well) OPEN IT AT ONCE!
Butterfly Hamada: Um. No.
There seems to be some kind of muffled conversation on the other side of the door, what is being said not really super clear. Suddenly, though…
*BOOM!*
The door bursts down, Liam’s foot following not far behind it. Butterfly stands up, furious.
Butterfly Hamada: &^%$#! @#$%! HAVE YOU NOT HAD ENOUGH YET? WHY MUST YOU TORTURE ME?! CAST ME TO HELL, I CARE NOT ANYMORE! JUST GET OUT OF MY LIFE!
Tim Martin: Oh, Butterfly, Butterfly, Butterfly… casting you to hell isn’t THAT easy. I can’t just snap my fingers and have the Black Demons of Hell burst through the floors and pull you down there. It’s going to take… more than that.
Tim sits next to Butterfly, who now knows better that, unless she either has a weapon or a clear shot to the nuts, that she shouldn’t try to face the two of them at once. She sits there, staring at the ground apprehensively.
Tim Martin: You see, Butterfly, we have a plan. A crusade of a plan which we outlined earlier tonight. We discussed with the vile creatures of the crowd the plan… and YOU and that Green Grappler happen to be a major factor.
Butterfly Hamada: A major factor?
Tim Martin: Why, yes! After you have… ahem… gotten the better of me and my brother in past weeks, we have discussed, and we find it only SO appropriate that we face you and that demon The Green Grappler at Bloodlust.
Butterfly Hamada: I would love to finally shut you two up.
Tim Martin: Well, have those pipe dreams. But, you see, we are not destined to lose to you. We might lose to the… UNFUCKABLES…
Tim and Liam wince.
Tim Martin: But that is because they are strong demons from Hell. You and the Grappler, on the other hand, are weak fools that have no place in Earth. God does not recognize you as friend or foe. He looks down upon you two and says “Where did you come from?”
Tim stands up, Liam still standing over the Butterfly.
Tim Martin: And that is where we come in. We are beginning our crusade tonight, Butterfly. And at Bloodlust, we are going to show the world that you are either a demon or a follower of the White Lord. There is no middle ground… those stuck there will perish.
Butterfly Hamada: Lovely.
Tim Martin: JEZZEBEL, BE QUIET! Ahem, now, as I was saying, we plan on perishing you…
Butterfly Hamada: Yes, I got that, but how will it be done? How will I be destroyed? Will you put me through a table? Inferno on the outside of the ring? TLC? What do you think you can come up with that is going to scare me?
Tim Martin: What?
Butterfly Hamada: You know… a stipulation?
Tim Martin: Oh… um… YES! THAT! Well… erm… that is God, Liam, and my secret!
Liam Martin: (whispers) It is?
Tim Martin: (whispers) SHUT UP! Ahem, YES! It is! Now… erm… we… er… yeah… good bye, whore.
The two walk out and start heading down the hall.
Liam Martin: Stipulation?! Why can’t we just beat them square up?! She doesn’t need any advantages!
Tim Martin: That whore knows how to manipulate! We’ll think of something we can take advantage of, though…
Liam Martin: I hope so…
The Trackdown III
FEATURING: LAURA WILLIAMS, CHARLES KENSRUE, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: TRENT
We’re back in the arena for our next Fresh! sequence as the fans are buzzing. However, no theme music is heard as they expected, but a recognizable woman presents herself on the stage, walking at a brisk pace to the ring. Following, or rather, stumbling behind her is a man that holds a camera and seems very nervous surrounded by all these people.
George Cassidy: What the hell? Who the hell is this woman and what is she doing out here tonight?!
Truth Waters: I’m about as knowledgeable as you on this one, Cass- wait! That’s the woman who that Kensrue threatened earlier!
George Cassidy: Hey, you’re right! Laura Williams, or whatever.
Truth Waters: Seems like a real self-absorbed bitch if you ask me. Typical reporter. Wants their story, and nothing else.
George Cassidy: I kinda like her...
Nevertheless, Laura reaches the ring and climbs the steel steps as every fan looks on in curiosity. Although she looks unfamiliar with wrestling ring, she climbs between the ropes anyway and gets into the middle of the ring. The cameraman enters the ring with her, supporting his equipment and shifting anxiously. The on-sight camera pans the AWC cameraman, who look angered that this man has permission to be closer to the ring than they do. Laura Williams demands a mic from ringside and gets her wish.
George Cassidy: Let’s see what she has to say...
Truth Waters: My, my... Pearl is not going to like this.
George Cassidy: Pearl getting angered by outside reporters taking up valuable show time? Nooooo...
Truth Waters: Hasn’t the guy dealt with enough tonight?
George Cassidy: Well, why not throw another helping on his plate!
Truth Waters: Uh oh...
Laura clears her voice into the mic, wanting everybody’s attention. She clearly is inexperienced with in-ring speaking in doing this, but begins.
Laura Williams: I can read everybody’s mind right now - “Who is this woman?” you’re all wondering. Well, in a feeble attempt to shed some grain of truth around this damned place, my name is Laura Williams, and I am a reporter for FOX news.
The crowd uncertainly reacts with a few random comments shouted at the mic holder. The reporter ignores them.
Laura Williams: I came to the Van Andel Arena here tonight for one reason and one reason only. And no, it’s not to watch this awful sport in action, heaven forbid. It’s to interrogate Charles Kensrue, and in the meantime, tell you all the truth about him!
The crowd is louder now in its again uncertain response, but they seem willing to hear what she has to say.
George Cassidy: Oooh, what dirt does she have on our self-alleged CIA agent?
Truth Waters: Well, Cass, I think it’s obvious now that he actually was a CIA agent.
George Cassidy: And what makes you think that?
Truth Waters: The guy leaves his job to come wrestle, and a reporter like this makes a big enough deal about it to shadow him all the way to Michigan?
George Cassidy: Good point...
Laura Williams: As you all are probably aware, Charles Kensrue is a former CIA agent. I’m surprised none of you fans, or staff, for that matter, have been made aware of the dangers involved in this. Needless to say, you haven’t encountered anything that would support this idea. Yet. So you see, there is a reason why this man left the CIA, and it’s not because he wanted a career change. There’s something more, but as of now, the blanks haven’t been filled in, which is why I am calling Charles Kensrue out right now!
If Charles was more popular with AWC’s fan base, a decent pop probably would have followed this announcement. Or a chorus of boos. But it’s almost silent, with Kensrue having lost his first match to Darcy Crisis earlier on, and these fans seem unconvinced that this is worthy of their time. However, Thrice’s “Magic Box” hits the PA system and they know who is coming.
Truth Waters: Well, looks like we’re going to have a little verbal battle of the sexes here...
George Cassidy: Not like we haven’t seen enough of those lately, for Christ’s sake.
Charles Kensrue walks slowly out onto the stage, his face blanked in controlled hatred and anger. He walks to the ring, and enters, staring a hole through Williams as if to intimidate her. He gets right to business and calls for a mic from ringside.
Charles Kensrue: Before I try and make sense of your unintelligent actions this evening, I would like to know one thing.
Laura Williams: And what is that?
Charles Kensrue: Who told you where my dressing room was?
Laura Williams: (scoffs) Oh, another inept co-worker of yours... poor bastard, didn’t even know that I wasn’t an AWC reporter...
Charles Kensrue: (sternly) Who was it?
Laura Williams: Oh, hell, I can hardly remember, Henry the Hero, or something like that... but I don’t have time for this... you’re gonna tell everybody here tonight your story, and the watchers of FOX news are going to be the first to hear it -
Laura is interrupted by the PA system, from which “Bohemian Like You” comes across clearly, and the fans know who’s next out. David “Pearl” Harber steps out onto the stage, mic already in hand.
Truth Waters: And the boss is coming to restore some order!
George Cassidy: Just as things were getting interesting...
Pearl: Alright, let’s cut to the chase. Security, I want you to remove that non-AWC woman now.
A few security rush into the ring after Laura Williams, who is aware of this and tries to escape quickly. She isn’t too swift in that outfit she has on, though, and is easily caught. She screams at Charles, who seems solely focused on his new boss. Pearl goes on.
Pearl: And Charles... Charles, Charles, Charles... this is your first Fresh! as an AWC wrestler and you’ve already disappointed me. Right now, I’m wasting valuable airtime to lecture you on something that you’ve already agreed to in contract. Seriously, it’s in writing... it’s why we do those sorts of things. But I’m not giving up on you. Yet.
Pearl waits for a reaction from the crowd, but gets nothing. The fans don’t necessarily seem uninterested, just unsure what to think.
Pearl: I’ll give you my part of this whole ordeal, and in turn, I want you to give yours. Of course, you have no choice in the matter, as you will give me more details later.
Kensrue simply nods. He is no longer angry, but seems aware of his guilt.
Pearl: There is to be no more of this nonsense. Fresh! is already long enough as it is, and can’t waste our airtime with a rivalry that concerns one of our wrestlers and a reporter, not even affiliated with us, that he hates. Do you understand?
Kensrue nods again.
Pearl: Now, I will need to meet with you in my office later. There are things that need to be discussed behind closed doors, and for your sake, I hope you have answers.
Pearl turns around, motioning to leave, but the voice of Kensrue stops him momentarily.
Charles Kensrue: Wait!
Pearl turns back towards the ring, and looks at the man that has been a pain in his ass ever since he got here.
Charles Kensrue: All I have is one request. Give me Heroic Henry in a match. Anytime, anywhere.
Pearl: I’ll think about it.
Pearl turns to leave and is followed distantly by Kensrue.
Truth Waters: Well wasn’t that something!
George Cassidy: I don’t know what to call that, but something tells me Kensrue isn’t going to be getting any contract bonus!
Truth Waters: Ain’t that the truth. Stay tuned for more Fresh!
A Bloody Revelation
FEATURING: CHAINZ, ALLISON, COLLISION COURSE, ELLIS NASH, TRACY
AUTHORS: MIKE S., LIA AND BRYAN G.
We follow Chainz as he stumbles to the back a bloody mess from his vicious match with Hate. Chainz is still bleeding all over the place and is wobbly, weaving from wall to wall trying to gain some composure. He walks past some stunned and horrified stage hands as he grabs a towel and begins to dab his forehead. He enters his locker room and is stunned to find Allison standing alone in the middle.
Allison: I’ve been waiting for you, Michael.
Chainz: Yeah, where’s your boy Joey Six?
Allison: He’s busy right now.
Chainz: Yeah I bet, why are you here again.
Allison: Well Michael like I said I’ve been waiting for you.
Chainz eyes here with scrutiny.
Chainz: How long.
Allison: Oh Michael, it’s been quite a while.
Chainz: Only Tracy calls me by my real name. I don’t like people using my real name, especially when I don’t know theirs Miss…
Allison: You don’t remember me do you?
Chainz: I’ve met a lot of beautiful women in my day.
Allison: Oh you’d remember me. How bout now?
Allison lifts her shirt to reveal a faded scar running straight on her abdomen as if a cut had been made years ago.
Allison: How long has it been now; seven years I believe.
Chainz’s eyes widen in shock and fear at the realization of who was standing before him.
Allison: Still confused, let me introduce myself. Hi Michael, my name is Ally Nash.
The towel drops from Chainz’s grasp as he stands in front of the woman he though he had killed some seven years ago. Here stood the cause of all the shit storm surrounding him, alive and well.
Chainz: You’re fucking with me right? You’re dead or I’ve completely lost my mind and I’m talking to a ghost, an apparition.
Allison: Oh I can assure you I’m the real deal.
She walks over to Chainz and grabs his hand, slowly placing it on her belly.
Allison: And once again I’m full of life.
Instinctively, Chainz’s free hand wraps around Ally’s throat as his other is placed over the spot where he had sliced her open seven years ago.
Allison: Old habits die hard I see. Once a monster always a monster.
A noise from the door attracts the attention of Chainz, and as he turns to face it, a fist flies through the air and lands on his cheek. The grip on Ally’s neck slips and Chainz tumbles to the ground. Usually one punch (especially from THIS guy) wouldn’t cause much damage, but it is obvious Chainz is still feeling the after effects of his brutal match up with Hate.
Joey Six of Collision Course steps into the locker room, followed closely behind his tag team partner, Jiro Sennosuke.
Joey Six: Get your goddamn hands off of my girlfriend, you sick fuck.
Joey takes a wide swing at Chainz, who even in his tired state is able to block the blow. However, before he can do anything else, Jiro Sennosuke is on him like a panther. A quick tackle takes Chainz to the floor, where Jiro gets in the mount position and starts raining stiff fists about Chainz's head and shoulders. Jiro hauls Chainz up to his feet, where he's still doubled over, and Joey DRILLS him with a stiff kick to the face. Chainz slumps to the ground on the verge of unconsciousness, but never offering a yell of pain. Joey approaches Chainz with an angry look in his eyes, but...
Allison: That’s enough... I want him to be conscious for this.
Chainz spits up some blood as he tries to crawl to his feet, but it’s no use. The match and the beating at the hands of Collision Course have taken a toll on his massive frame and left him as helpless as a child.
Allison: So how’s it feel to be on the receiving end?
Chainz: I’ll ask you that when I finish the job I started seven years ago.
Allison: No I don’t think so. I’ve waited seven years for my revenge on you. You gutted me like a fish, stole the life from within me, and threw me into the river like a pile of garbage. Luckily I washed up a few miles down and was able to live, but why am I telling you all this? You’re not interested in life; you’re all about death and destruction.
Chainz: I had no choice, you were going to kill my child.
Allison: He was my child too and I had no choice either. What kind of life would he be born into? What kind of father would you have been? I know you would resort back to your old ways within months and it would only be a matter of time until you brought our baby boy into the fold. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
Chainz: And so you’ve come back to teach me a lesson?
Allison: You always were a smart man, a sociopath, but still a genius. I’ve waited seven years, I’ve undergone countless surgeries to fix what you did to me, to change the person I couldn’t bring myself to see in the mirror – and you’re right I did come back to teach you a lesson. I now have a boyfriend who treats me with respect and I have my life back; now I want to take yours away from you.
Chainz finally makes it to his feet, but Joey Six (resisting the urge to gloat) blasts him in the skull with a steel chair. Chainz falls to the ground with a thud, eyes blinking rapidly as he tries to retain consciousness.
Suddenly from the bathroom steps Ellis Nash. She has tears streaming down her face and a look of absolute shock after hearing the whole conversation. She also has a knife in her hand, no doubt destined for Chainz. She drops the knife and walks over to her sister, arms outstretched. Ellis embraces Ally in a hug as the two sisters are reunited, but Ally doesn’t reciprocate. Ellis releases her and looks into the eyes of her sister, who suddenly slaps Ellis. Ellis backs off stunned as Ally stares at her before making her leave of the room.
Joey and Jiro make their exit, but a crying Tracy comes bolting in, bumping into both of them in the process. She kneels by her man and tries to help him sit up, but he has finally fallen into unconsciousness. Tears streak her face as she wipes the blood from his face with her bare hands. Joey and Jiro look on.
Joey Six: Look, I'm sorry but -
Jiro doesn't even look at his partner as he leaves the room.
Jiro Sennosuke: I'm not.
Joey hustles out after his tag team partner.
Ellis looks down at the knife and than back at Tracy and Chainz. She hesitates as if she was thinking something over in her head. Finally, she marches by the lovers and leaves the locker room confused and shocked at the events that just transpired. Tracy continues cleaning Chainz up as finally a few medical personnel burst onto the scene.
The Unfuckables (C) vs The Furious Fists Of God
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: OBINNA O.
George Cassidy: This is an excellent chance for the Unfuckables to remind everyone why they're on top, Truth, but we all know that the Furious Fists have something on their side that have helped them get this far! Something great, something glorious, something---
Truth Waters: That tells me that I'm rooting for the Unfuckables tonight.
George Cassidy: Well, that'll be a sound for sore ears! You've finally come around, have you?
Truth Waters: Shut your face, honky! I'm just rooting for Wade and Dick 'cause they ain't servants of the White Lord.
George Cassidy: I'm afraid I have some bad news…
"Hallelujah" hits the speakers and the crowd erupts in boos as the Furious Fists of God, Tim and Liam Martin, stand on the stage. They hold rosaries in their hands and they bow their heads frequently as they walk down the ramp. They appear to be blessing the crowd, but on closer inspection, Tim and Liam are giving hard palm strikes to the foreheads unfortunate audience members.
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match for the AWC Alliance championship! Introducing first, the challengers, at a combined weight of 607 pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts… Tim and Liam Martin, THE FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
Tim and Liam climb up the steps into the ring and quickly begin to pray, falling to their knees. Suddenly, "Image of the Invisible" by Thrice interrupts the display, much to the ire of Tim and Liam. They spring to their feet, jawjacking at the entranceway. The Alliance champions step out onto the entrance, looking arrogant as they gaze down at the challengers. They hoist their belts high, patting the belts as they start down, Dick taking the lead. Wade yells at the crowd as he makes his way down, taking the opportunity to laugh at the idiots screaming their heads off at him.
James Brunt: And their opponents, Waterford, Ireland and Salt Lake City, Utah respectively, the AWC Alliance champions… Mike Wade and Adam Dick, THE UNFUCKABLES!
Truth Waters: Wade and Dick are standing on the outside, not wanting to tangle with the Fists just yet. Good strategy.
George Cassidy: Glad we can agree on something for once.
Dick goads Wade up to the steps and the Relentless champ cautiously steps up, eyeing Tim and Liam warily. Just as he steps on the apron, Liam springs at him with a huge clothesline, forcing Wade to jump off the apron to evade it. Adam Dick manages to sneak in behind them and as the Fists turn, he catches them with a double crossbody block that sends them both to the mat. Adam springs to his feet and shoves his crown and belt towards Brunt, instructing him to keep them safe as the bell rings.
Truth Waters: Dick keeping his stuff clean for now, but OHH did that cost him! Big forearm from Liam Martin! Wade and T-Martin take their places outside and we're underway here!
George Cassidy: Each one of those chops has the pure fury of the White Lord behind them! Liam lifts Dick on his shoulders, looking for the quick finish… but Dick slips out!
Dick swings his legs forward, using the momentum to carry Liam down in a bulldog! Facey pops to his feet quickly and charges into the ropes, but he receives a knee into the back from Tim! Dick turns to face the older Martin, but Liam gets him from the back and carries him over with a German suplex! Gripping Dick by the hair, Liam tags into his brother. Liam presses Dick into the air and Tim goes onto a knee, prompting Liam to drop the Transatlantic champ chestfirst onto Tim's outstretched knee!
George Cassidy: Mercy me! That had to hurt!
Truth Waters: Dick getting dragged to his feet again and Tim locks him up with a sleeper hold. Dick's looking like he's fading right here and he's got to get the tag out here!
Wade has at least half of his body over the top rope, stretching as far as he can to tag himself in. Tim is having none of it however, twisting and hurling Adam into his corner. As Liam forces Dick's neck onto the top rope, Tim rushes Wade and knocks him off the apron with a kitchen sink. Tim turns around just as Dick has finished freeing himself from Liam's grip with a knee to the REGIONS~! Dick charges at Tim and floors him with a headscissors takedown!
Truth Waters: Martin down! Dick up! Tag out!
George Cassidy: The Wade Parade on the assault!
Wade wastes no time in dropping a jumping elbow on the sternum of big Tim Martin! Liam comes in, only to meet a drop toe hold that chokes him on the middle rope. Adam Dick takes advantage, climbing up to the top and hitting a guillotine leg drop on the younger Fist! Wade smashes Tim with a somersault leg drop and pops right up, playing up to the crowd and receiving a chorus of boos for his trouble.
George Cassidy: Salute His Swerviness! This insolence will not stand!
Truth Waters: Finally the referee manages to get Liam Martin out of the ring, leaving Wade and Tim Martin in by themselves. Wade executing some vicious chops on T-Mart… Martin shoves him away and looks for a clothesline!
George Cassidy: Wade ducks it… and comes up with a faceful of yakuza kick!
Wade flops on the ground, but before Dick can save him with a tag, Tim Martin yanks him away from the corner. He takes a step forward and flattens him with an elbow drop. He rises up, but only to spin and drop another elbow! Martin jaws at the crowd as he lifts Wade up, giving him a stiff hammer throw into the ropes. Wade comes back and Tim lifts him up and snaps his neck with the White Light of God! Tim presses Wade forward for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
BROKEN UP!
Adam Dick stomps Tim on the head to break the count, but like a freight train, Liam Martin clobbers Adam and sends him out of the ring! Michael Ryan moves to send Liam out of the ring, but Liam bucks at him and scares him off. Tim lifts Wade from the brutal chokehold he had locked and nods at Liam as he whips Wade towards his brother. His Swerviness looks to be in a bad way as Liam cocks his fist, but Adam Dick pulls Liam's legs out from the back!
Truth Waters: The Fist of God is foiled! Wade springboards off the second rope…
George Cassidy: Frankensteiner! The Unfuckables are back on the attack, Jack!
Truth Waters: It's Truth!
George Cassidy: I can't be bothered to learn your crazy Negro names.
Wade rests on his knees after hurling Tim Martin with that hurricanrana, trying to regain his composure. Dick assaults Liam Martin on the outside, favoring him with sharp boots to the side. Finally, the Face-Eater lifts Liam to his feet and rams his face repeatedly into the guardrail before shoving him backwards and blasting him with a butterfly kick! Inside the ring, Wade and Tim Martin square off. Martin starts forward, but Wade cuts him down with a chop block. Wade scrambles to his back and grips Martin's hips, giving a few fake pelvic thrusts.
George Cassidy: THE SODOMIZER!
Truth Waters: Martin scrambles away like a scared cat! Wade is eating up the crowd's response, but Martin doesn't look too pleased…
George Cassidy: Watch out!
Tim charges at Wade, looking for a spear, but Wade leapfrogs over him. Tim grips the ropes, managing to keep himself on the inside. He turns around and Wade dropkicks him in the head, smashing him back into the corner! Mike Wade lifts Tim to his feet and hits him with a short European uppercut. Tim stumbles away, trying to get some relief, but Mike follows him and grabs his head, snapping his head backwards for a reverse DDT!
Truth Waters: Wade has got his game face on, Cassidy, and he's not about to give this one to the Fists.
George Cassidy: The Unfuckables are on fire, sure, but the light of the White Lord can surely extinguish them!
Wade lifts Tim to his feet and gives him a sharp kick to the stomach. He hooks Martin's arms and the crowd catches its collective breath as everyone knows what's coming up. Unfortunately, Tim muscles his arms away and shoves Mike backwards. He launches himself forward for a clothesline, but Wade ducks it and comes up, nailing him with a neckbreaker! He pulls Tim to his feet and hooks him up for a suplex, hitting the first snap suplex. He twists over and hits the second, and then the third. He then hooks the leg, hitting the final suplex in the 4 Corner Wadeplex!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
George Cassidy: The White Lord shines his great mercies upon Tim Martin tonight!
Truth Waters: Kill this bastard, Wade!
Frustrated, Wade leaves Martin on the mat and goes to tag his partner in. Just as he reaches the ropes, however, Liam Martin pulls Dick off of the apron by the waist! Liam drops Dick chest-first on the guardrail and then, grabbing his hair, delivers the Lord's Anger right into the steel guardrail! The crowd gives a large boo as a shocked Wade turns around, right into an Eagle's Claw! Liam rolls into the ring as his brother forgoes the pin, lifting Wade up to his feet.
Truth Waters: Some team action from the Fists as they both whip Wade into the ropes here…
George Cassidy: Double Fists!?
Truth Waters: No! Double spinebusters on the Wade Parade and that might be it!
This is not the mindset of the Martin brothers. Liam slips out of the ring just enough for Tim to tag him right back in. Tim lifts Wade up into the air in a suplex fashion and Liam goes to a knee behind him. Tim drops backwards, suplexing Wade right onto Liam's knee! Mike Wade cries out, writhing and wriggling away from Liam like a fish. Liam lifts Wade right back up, however, kneeing him hard in the gut!
Truth Waters: Liam drills Wade into the mat with a stiff DDT right there. Wade has got to make a tag out to Dick, but after the Lord's Anger, how viable is Dick in this match?
George Cassidy: This'll be a sweep for the Fists, Truth.
Liam hauls Mike off the ground, giving him a few open palmed slaps and jawing at him, obviously preaching. Mike blocks a slap, but Liam rewards him with a boot to the stomach! Liam backs into the ropes and takes a step forward before bowling Mike over with a yakuza kick to the head! Mike rolls up to a knee, but he instantly regrets it as Liam yanks him off the mat by the hair and smashes him into the mat with a sitout spinebuster! Liam grabs Wade by the hair and drags him to his corner, tagging his brother in.
George Cassidy: Keeping themselves fresh here, Truth. Classic strategy, no doubt imparted upon them from the White Lord.
Tim continues working on Wade's back with a pendulum backbreaker, but instead of letting Wade fall off his knee, he drives his forearm into Wade's neck and presses down on his stomach, stretching His Swerviness's spine terribly! Suddenly, Adam Dick blasts across the ring, knocking Liam off the apron with a back elbow as he hits the ropes! He comes across to the other side and bounces back, drilling Tim in the face with a dropkick!
Truth Waters: Adam Dick with the big save, knocking out both Martin brothers! Wade has no choice but to tag out to Dick, and boy does he want it!
George Cassidy: What are you trying to imply, Truth?
Truth Waters: SHUT YOUR FACE, HONKY!
Dick is practically begging for the tag, calling Wade names in an effort to rouse him. Liam slowly climbs back into his corner, shaking off the cobwebs. Wade drags himself towards his corner, coughing heavily as he does so. Both Tim and Wade reach out… and make simultaneous tags! Adam and Liam burst into the ring, but Adam gets the best of the Fist, twisting around as they pass each other and smashing Liam with a backbrain kick! Tim lumbers into the ring, but a reenergized Wade comes in for the assist and the Unfuckables hit a double suplex on Tim Martin!
Truth Waters: Wade popped right up after that move, clutching his back; there might be lasting damage!
George Cassidy: They've just got to get out of this match, Truth, but you know which one the Fists will be gunning for now!
Dick kicks Tim out of the ring before turning his attentions back to Liam. Liam has gotten to his feet and he looks incensed as he eyes the Transatlantic champion. Adam doesn't look too happy either, cautiously moving towards Liam. Liam charges and Adam attempts to replicate Wade's chop block, but Liam smashes his knee into the Face-Eater's face! Dick rolls to the side and Martin grabs him by the hair, lifting him up and giving him a knee smash for good measure!
Truth Waters: I see they're working on the face here…
George Cassidy: Just setting him up for the end!
Liam shoots Dick into the ropes and lifts him up on the rebound, hurling him over with a back body drop! Liam continues into the ropes and comes back, leaping into the air and crushing Adam Dick with a fist drop! Adam's legs flail as Liam takes firm control of the match, hauling him up to a vertical base once more. He sets Facey on his shoulders for another attempt at To the Gates, but when he swings him over Dick throws his knees out in front of him, sparing himself of the damage!
Truth Waters: Brilliant escape there and Dick keeps himself alive!
George Cassidy: Not for long, though! Liam lifts him up into the air… Biblical Bomb!
ONE!
TWO!
SHOULDER UP!
Truth Waters: Almost a three right there!
Liam throws the champ off and moves towards his corner, making to tag in his brother. Tim jumps off the apron, shaking his head. Liam shouts at his brother incredulously, but he leaves himself right open for Dick to hit him with the Newer-Age Estradaplex! Worn down, Dick makes a lazy cover.
ONE!
TWO!
BROKEN UP!
Tim drops a fierce double axehandle across Adam's neck, breaking up the pin. He lifts Dick into the air in a military press. Wade enters the ring, looking to help his partner, but Tim Martin simply kicks him away. He twists Adam around and drops to the mat, bringing him down in a huge sitout spinebuster! Tim instructs Liam to finish the job and Liam crawls over, grabbing Adam by the head. He lifts him into the air and looks for To the Gates one more time, but as he twists Adam over, the Face-Eater grabs him by the neck and hits a tornado DDT!
Truth Waters: Where's the White Lord now!? Three times Liam has tried to send Dick To the Gates, and three times it has been foiled!
George Cassidy: Tim looks disappointed in his brother, but that doesn't mean they're about to lose this!
Wade makes his way over and brushes off the ref, grabbing Liam and ramming his shoulder into the turnbuckle. He moves over and helps his partner up, making sure he's okay to continue before slipping out of the ring. Adam regains his composure and moves over to Liam, giving him a few sharp kicks to the stomach. He pulls Liam backwards and goes for a German suplex, but the Fist sweeps his leg out from under him and comes down with all 301 pounds of force on top of the Transatlantic champion!
George Cassidy: "King" Dick has just been smashed!
Truth Waters: Liam is peeling him off the mat and he whips him into the ropes here… Hail Mary!
Adam lands on his knees, clutching at his compressed windpipe. Liam charges him and smashes him with a yakuza kick to the back of the head that sends Dick sailing through the ropes and out to the floor! Liam makes to follow him, but Wade catches him and drags him back into the ring. Wade hits Liam with a stiff right hand across the face, but Tim wheels him around and flattens him with a big forearm shot! Tim lifts Wade up and shoots him into the ropes. The brothers lock arms and look for a double-team clothesline, but Wade slides out of the ring and to the outside!
Truth Waters: We've got a three count here and the Unfuckables don't look like they want to get back in!
George Cassidy: Well, if that's the way they want it, it looks like the Fists are going out!
As the Martins step onto the apron, Wade and Dick slide into the ring. Tim and Liam turn around and catch dropkicks from the Unfuckables, sending them crashing to the outside! Mike Wade and Adam Dick celebrate the chance to catch their breaths, jawing at the crowd. Finally, the Martins pick themselves up and roll back into the ring. Dick baseball slides and knocks Tim back out onto the outside. He climbs the top rope as Wade lifts Liam up into the air and drops him with a falcon arrow!
Truth Waters: Adam Dick is airborne… Twilight Press!
George Cassidy: This might be over right here! Dick hooks the leg!
ONE!
TWO!
PULLED AWAY!
Tim Martin pulls Dick out of the ring by the leg and bulldozes him with a lariat! Wade leans over the top rope, yelling at Tim, but Tim yanks the rope down and bounces Wade out of the ring and onto the apron. Tim lifts Mike Wade up and spins, giving him a Confessional on the corner of the ring apron! Liam stands up inside the ring as Tim sets Dick up against the guardrail. Tim shouts something at his brother and Liam's eyes go wide as dinner plates. Tim insists on it and Liam charges into the ropes behind him. He comes back, eyes focused on Adam.
George Cassidy: THIS IS SUICIDE!
Truth Waters: LIAM IS OVER THE TOP ROPE AND HE HITS THE DEVIL'S TEMPTATION ON DICK! That somersault back press might have killed the King!
George Cassidy: The White Lord will prevail tonight!
Ryan stops the count at six, watching the scene in horror. Tim eyes his brother in a heap on top of Adam, but rather than help him, he turns to Wade. He knees him hard in the midsection and rolls him into the ring. He slides in himself and covers Wade, yelling at Michael Ryan to count. Ryan explains that he's not the legal man and Tim leaps to his feet, backing Ryan into the corner and arguing with him. Finally, Ryan puts his hands up and Tim turns around, dragging Wade away from the rope and hooking the leg. Ryan counts!
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Truth Waters: Tim wasn't the legal man and neither was Wade!
George Cassidy: The White Lord gives the power of diplomacy to his servants, Truth.
Truth Waters: A frustrated second cover from Martin…
ONE!
TWO!
KICKOUT!
Wade doesn't look like he's about to give up, but Tim is ready to make him. Tim lifts Wade to his feet and whips him hard into the corner. Tim makes to follow, but Wade slips out and leaves Martin to collide with the turnbuckles! Wade rests against the ropes, but a risen Liam Martin charges along the apron and sends him flipping with a running lariat! Liam leaps off the apron and up into his corner, holding the back of his head as he begs for the tag. Tim grabs Wade by the hair and drags him over to his corner. Liam punches Mike in the face before tagging in, slipping through the ropes.
George Cassidy: Look at Liam throwing Wade around! He lifts His Swerviness up into the air and drops him with a powerbomb!
Truth Waters: Martin's pointing at his knee and he's about to finish Wade off!
Liam lifts Mike Wade onto his shoulders, moving towards the center of the ring. He takes a deep breath before letting out a mighty roar, swinging Wade over and sending him To the Gates! The crowd gives a massive boo as Liam finishes, on his knees and praying. Adam Dick charges the ring, only to be met by Tim Martin who launches him into the air with a quick gorilla press and punches him in the stomach in mid-air! The Face-Eater folds up and crashes into the mat, writhing around pitifully.
Truth Waters: One of the Unfuckables is already in conference with St. Peter and now Liam is gonna send off a second!
Liam lifts Adam Dick onto his shoulders and yells at the crowd maniacally, preaching the word of the White Lord to them. He then swings Dick over and sends him straight To the Gates! Liam rises right to his feet, shouting "Praise Him!" at the top of his lungs. He turns and drags Adam Dick to his feet, watching his brother. Tim stands ready, massaging his knuckles.
George Cassidy: Here we go, heathen!
Truth Waters: NO! NO! NO!
George Cassidy: FIST OF GOD straight to the face! This is over!
Tim yells at his brother, ordering him to make the pin. Liam does so as Tim walks over and grabs Mike Wade, hoisting him up and tossing him to the outside with a monstrous 6 Feet Under!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: I don't believe it! The one time these Unfuckable fucks NEEDED to win!
James Brunt: The winners… and NEW AWC Alliance champions… Tim and Liam Martin, the FURIOUS FISTS OF GOD!
Michael Ryan hands Tim and Liam their belts and the brothers hold up their titles high, praying fervently. Finally, they exit the ring and start back up the ramp.
George Cassidy: A great victory for the White Lord has been scored here tonight!
Truth Waters: They had to go through hell to get those belts and all I can hope is that the Unfuckables invoke their rematch clause soon!
George Cassidy: That's time out for this week's Fresh!; join us this Sunday for Fresh!burst when we'll be making the final arrangements for Bloodlust, which promises to be the best AWC show since The Battle Of Britain!