Fresh! Results11th October 2005
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC's superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.
I think I'm breaking out
I'm gonna leave you now
There's nothing for me here
It's all the same
Pierce Lavelle is shown delivering his Whiplash finisher on Paddy O’Shea and then holding aloft the Transatlantic title, which he currently holds in his second reign. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, with shots of many AWC superstars in action being shown: The Farmer, Laura Winters, T.T.S..
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I'm not afraid
Testimony highlights flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Tim Shipley’s Chi-Squared Drop onto The Illustrious Face-Eater and a steel chair to once and for all defeat him; Red Rock putting rival The British Bomber through a table with the RDT; Mike Wade and Paddy O’Shea hanging from the freefalling cage as it descends on Hate in ring centre.
Way away, away from here I'll be
Away, away, away, so you can see
How it feels to be alone and not believe
Feels to be alone and not believe
Anything
The house lights come on and the camera pans the rows of screaming fans packing out the Beaumont, Texas venue. A variety of hand-made signs grab the eye: “Adam’s Dick”; “Aliso is a dead man”; “I’m The Illustrious Face-Eater!”. Eventually, the producer tires of showing us the degradation of American youth and Truth Waters and George Cassidy at their announce table fill the screen.
Truth Waters: It’s eleven days after Testimony and the Ford Arena is packed for what could be one of the most memorable editions of AWC Fresh!
George Cassidy: Night of the newbies on the match front, but it’s not the matches that people care about on this particular show... it’s repercussions from Testimony.
Truth Waters: That’s right, we saw some shocking things happen in Las Vegas. None more so than the attack on Tim Shipley right at the end by someone dressed as The Illustrious Face-Eater... that someone turned out to be Tony Aliso. A man thought dead.
George Cassidy: It’s not just thought dead, Truth! He was SHOT! He was BURIED! DEAD AND GONE!
Truth Waters: Then explain Testimony!
George Cassidy: I... I just can’t.
Truth Waters: Exactly. We want answers! And I'm hoping tonight we’re gonna get them.
George Cassidy: Think Aliso’ll show?!
Truth Waters: I certainly hope so.
George Cassidy: He sure as hell needs to give us some answers. It’s not just that he isn’t dead... it’s why he attacked his friend Tim Shipley. Illogical.
Truth Waters: There’s evidently something... something so big that he faked his own death –
George Cassidy: Let’s not hypothesise. Let’s wait till we’re told. Especially as we have the rest of this intro to get through – TRUTH, WHO IS OUR CHAMPION?
Truth Waters: I have no clue. Ladies and gentlemen, if you didn’t manage to catch Testimony you’ve missed a hell of a lot. The finish was some way short of conclusive, with Hate scoring a three-count on Lavelle due to Paddy O’Shea missing the champion’s kickout – but the bell was never rung as a mess of interferences from Mike Wade and Adam Dick meant we ended in confusion.
George Cassidy: And then O’Shea and Wade, duelling on the cage, were winched up into the air by Azagtoth.
Truth Waters: Though we don’t actually know it was his work; Hate might’ve been claiming credit for the work of others...
George Cassidy: Please don’t make it MORE complicated. So Lavelle and Dick rushed backstage and someone managed to bring the cage down again – but a little too quickly.
Truth Waters: Yeah, that was scary... the metal of the cage warped on impact...
George Cassidy: No chance of using that again. Sunk costs, mm?
Truth Waters: Your economics falls some way short of your wrestling knowledge. And that really is short...
George Cassidy: Oh shut up.
Truth Waters: We haven’t even got into the cancellation of the Alliance title match due to O’Shea’s late arrival or what happened between Red Rock and Bomber...
George Cassidy: The instant classic Janitor’s Closet match or the encounter between Patrick Mapleleaf and Laura Winters... or of course the final showdown between Shipley and Face-Eater for the 10-Count, and the revelation of the no-name Adam Dick as the one behind the mask...
Truth Waters: But the music’s finished, the crowd’s getting restless and we need to move on with the show! So if you missed the pay-per-view, check out the website for a full transcript.
No Longer Lurking...
FEATURING: TONY ALISO
AUTHORS: DAVE LARKIN AND PIERRE HYDE
After the initial buzz provided by the pyrotechnics, the AWC fans settle down in their seats, probably expecting the opening match of the night. “Walk” by Pantera suddenly plays on the P.A. system, however, and many fans in the crowd come to their feet, realising just who is entering the arena.
Truth Waters: Oh my freaking God.
George Cassidy: Don’t worry, I’ve got gum.
Truth Waters: No… no… listen! Whose music is that?
George Cassidy: KODIAK VIC CREED IS IN AWC?!
Truth Waters: …Not quite. It’s also the theme music of a certain…
Dry ice emerges from the entrance ramp way and the lights go down. The snare drum becomes louder, then the lights are raised instantly as the man everyone presumed dead, Tony Aliso, appears from behind the dry ice.
George Cassidy: TONY ALISO!
Truth Waters: There. Jesus…
There is a buzz around the arena, the likes of which has never been experienced in AWC before. Aliso is dressed in a stylish suit with a loose white shirt underneath it. His hair is gelled back and he is the picture of cockiness as he makes his way down the ramp way. Aliso enters the ring under the bottom rope and is handed a microphone by the sceptical James Brunt. Aliso gives Brunt the once over with disgust, then clears his throat.
Truth Waters: Nothing he can say will excuse him in our eyes… he faked his own death, for crying out loud!
George Cassidy: Let’s at least listen, because it seems he’s going to address us… and we’re sure as hell not saturated with answers at the moment.
Instead of booing or cheering the man standing in the ring, the fans simply stay quiet, wanting to listen to what this mysterious man has to say.
George Cassidy: It’s too difficult for these ignorant Texans. He was a good guy… but he attacked his friend Tim Shipley… two simultaneous thought processes is enough for a Texan brain to implode.
Truth Waters: One of these days –
Aliso’s first icy words cut him off.
Tony Aliso: They all thought I was dead. Buried. Never to return. At first they mourned, but it quickly changed to a mixture of ignorance and just not giving a damn. And that was only the reaction in my hometown of Los Angeles, California. For those of you who are too out of tune with the world of wrestling to know who I am, my name is Tony Aliso.
Aliso pauses a moment, as the fans fully take in just who is before them.
Tony Aliso: Back in early April, I was abducted, kidnapped, by a criminal organisation based in L.A. known simply as Knucks.
Truth Waters: Knucks was the organisation blamed for Aliso’s killing…
Tony Aliso: I was taken against my will, but Knucks… they changed what my will was. I renounced my ways, I renounced Tim, I renounced my former self… and we released a cover-up story saying I had been killed.
Aliso’s gleaming smile disregards the boos starting to come from some sections of the arena.
Tony Aliso: We did it properly – the car, the funeral, the gun disposed of close to the scene. The funny thing is, everyone fell for it. No one even bothered looking closely. Not that I would have been found, anyway. Knucks took me under their wing, made me strong, got rid of my… emotions. My… weaknesses.
With that, Aliso shows an expression of horror on his face, as if to repress a memory.
Tony Aliso: I rose through the ranks, such was my talent.
George Cassidy: Arrogant, too!
Tony Aliso: Now I hold a position of power in Knucks which has so much influence I can make anything happen in the blink of an eye.
His steely glare emits nothing more than pure hatred.
Tony Aliso: Murders, robberies, anything – I can make it all happen.
He reels them off without a hint of remorse.
Truth Waters: So we’re getting the police on this, right?
Tony Aliso: Without Knucks, I would have been wasting my time wrestling for the past few months with no direction. I’ve found my calling in life, and I’m a changed man. All of you now have to live with it…
Aliso takes a look around at the crowd, who have now discovered that the Los Angeles native is not such a nice guy. The boos and jeers have begun in the crowd for the man formerly known as “The Real Deal”.
Tony Aliso: And now we have the little matter of Tim Shipley.
Aliso sneers as the crowd cheers loyally for the Englishman he refers to.
Tony Aliso: Shipley, ladies and gentlemen, was the bane of my existence in my initial days in Knucks.
Truth Waters: WHAT?
George Cassidy: They were tag team partners…
Truth Waters: Friends!
George Cassidy: But it seems all along, Aliso had a motive…
Tony Aliso: I would go as far as to say I was traumatised. I was gone out of his life. I figured the kid would roll up in a ball and die, wondering every night what had happened to his mentor, his friend.
Aliso mocks sympathy for Shipley.
Truth Waters: What has happened to Tony Aliso?
Tony Aliso: But then… a certain Illustrious Face-Eater threw a spanner in the works. Stealing my heat! Stealing my name! Using my perfectly constructed legacy to get one over on the very man whose eyes were blinded to my elaborate plan. I hoped he would grow up… move on… but Shipley reacted. Shipley made it real. And I couldn’t have that. Well, Shipley was always one for big reactions, so I thought to myself “Why not make an appearance at Testimony?”. I did exactly that, and Shipley has never been more frightened in his life.
George Cassidy: He’s got that right. He thought his friend dead for months, and now that very friend’s out here ripping away the past like it never happened.
The boos intensify for the formerly popular Neon Wrestling and Core Wrestling worker.
Tony Aliso: Now I exact my revenge on Shipley for the months of agony I had to go through with him. Tim, you made me weak. Around you, I had no soul. Now, with Knucks’ help, I have discovered why I’ve been put on this Earth. To punish the weak, to maim the insignificant, and to rise to my full potential as wrestling’s biggest superstar… ever.
Aliso is showered with unrelenting boos from the crowd, who are seemingly getting tired of his speech.
Truth Waters: It’s that, is it? Just glory gone to his head?
George Cassidy: Aliso isn’t stupid. He’s read more into this than he’s letting on.
Tony Aliso: Everything will be revealed in due course, Shipley. For now, though, patience is the best weapon at your disposal. I’m sure I’ll see you around.
Aliso drops the microphone and “Walk” by Pantera plays once more, eliciting even more boos from the fans. Aliso heads back up the ramp way with his hands in his pockets, spitting in the face of a fan verbally abusing him on the way. Aliso strolls off with a look of utter disgust for everything around him.
Truth Waters: Well, what about that? Tony Aliso very much alive, yet in every way a shadow of his former self. It’s as if Knucks has erased every good thing about the man who held the Core Wrestling Tag Team titles with Tim Shipley...
George Cassidy: I want to know how deep this runs, how far back things go. For how long was Aliso’s friendship manufactured? Or did Knucks manage to turn a just and honest man?
Truth Waters: Who and what Knucks is would be nice, because from what Aliso alluded to, a criminal investigation is at hand.
Mike Wade (C) vs James Varga the Handler
STIPULATION: WEAPONS
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The arena lights fade out and then the fans are met by this music video.
http://www.7secondsoflove.com/ninja/
James Varga the Handler comes out dancing like the cats in the music video. Psychedelic lights brighten up the arena and the fans get into this madness. He bounces around and then the music video turns into reality as cats, women, men, and other assorted things start dancing down the aisle-way. Varga then leaps into the ring and all the dancers head to the back. He then waves to the crowd before the lights fade back up.
James Brunt: The following is a Weapons match for the AWC Relentless championship! Introducing first, the challenger, from Las Vegas, Nevada, weighing in at 130 pounds... JAMES VARGA THE HANDLER!
Truth Waters: It’s time for our first match here on Fresh!, and James Varga the Handler, who won his Testimony match in... unique style, gets a shot at new Relentless champion Mike Wade.
George Cassidy: Wade succeeded in stealing away heat from a lot of the top carders towards the end of that show, and we’re looking at one of AWC’s rising stars here, just coming off of a great victory over PRIME hall-of-famer Ian English.
Truth Waters: English didn’t have his mind on the match...
George Cassidy: No matter. Mike Wade was in the right place at the right time to profit, and sometimes that’s what it takes: a little luck can go a long way.
House Of Pain’s classic “Jump Around” hits the speakers; the American audience isn’t so familiar with the legendary we’re-going-out/to-a-football-match/to-get-pissed anthem and so focus on booing the man who SWERVED~! majorly at Testimony, AWC’s most recent show prior to this one. Wade strolls through the curtain, pushing a trolleyful of weaponry, Relentless title belt over his shoulder, nodding his head and sneering at the hecklers.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Waterford, Ireland, weighing in at 209 and three-quarter pounds... he is the AWC Relentless champion, “His Swerviness” MIKE WADE!
George Cassidy: Wade is coming out, loaded with objects which will be legal weapons in this title defence, and he doesn’t appear too bothered that the crowd has reacted negatively to his turn on Paddy O’Shea at the pay-per-view.
Truth Waters: The Face-Eater hasn’t accompanied him, which is interesting; hints seemed to indicate that their partnership wasn’t just a one-time deal.
George Cassidy: (turning round to address the fans) Look, would you stop heaping abuse on this man? It’s his new enemy O’Shea you should be booing; he didn’t show up for his match at Testimony.
Truth Waters: Incidentally, a rematch pitting O’Shea and Mickey Fitz-McCarthy against T.T.S. is scheduled to be tonight’s main event.
George Cassidy: Hmm... do you think I can leave early, then? I'm not sitting through that.
The bell rings as Wade slides into the ring, leaving his trolley at ringside. The Ford Arena gets noisy in anticipation of this hot first contest as Wade ignores Senior Referee Michael Ryan to charge at Varga and knock him down with a title belt shot. The crowd ”OOH!”s as Ryan moves to stand in Wade’s way, insistent on informing him of something before he gets too stuck in.
George Cassidy: Wade isn’t mincing his words. He just wants to destroy that reedy 22-year-old and get this over with.
Truth Waters: Did you know James Varga the Handler is lighter than some of our females on the roster? Including new signing Butterfly Hamada, who clocks in at one-sixty and will debut against Juri Hyobanshi two matches down the line.
George Cassidy: Fat bitch.
Varga the Handler struggles to his feet in the corner of the ring, his hand clapped over his forehead as if superglued to it. Wade looks at the lightweight in disdain and boots him hard in the gut. Still holding his belt, he Irish-whips his opponent into the ropes and plays right through Varga’s face with a title-belt uppercut.
Truth Waters: Mike Wade harbours no sympathy for this outclassed youngster.
George Cassidy: Four words, Truth... What was Pearl thinking?
Wade tosses his Relentless title belt aside and drags Varga up, figuring he may as well take the chance to try out some of his more risky moves. Pulling the title challenger into a tie-up, he moves alongside him and with no resistance whatsoever, plants him down with the Sidewinder!
Truth Waters: Sidewinder! Wade could have this one!
George Cassidy: Two shots with the belt and one Sidewinder... it doesn’t take much against Varga the Handler.
Michael Ryan resignedly counts the fall.
ONE!
TWO!
Miraculously, Varga summons up the energy to kick out, much against everyone’s advice.
Truth Waters: Hey, that’s a Soulwax lyric.
George Cassidy: You can’t reply to the narrative.
Oh yes he can.
George Cassidy: ...Go away!
Truth Waters: You can’t reply to the narrative.
Wade throws Varga into the turnbuckle and begins battering him with left and right hands. A stiff kick to the ribs causes the Handler’s head to jerk violently forward.
George Cassidy: He looks as if he’s about to chuck...
Wade backs up and then charges, running full speed to crush Varga’s tiny frame against the ringpost. Varga the Handler wobbles and then falls face-first to the mat.
Truth Waters: He’s getting dominated.
George Cassidy: But what can Varga’s Handler do?
The supermarket employee sees Mike Wade making his way up the turnbuckle and starts to crawl away, trying to put a safe distance between himself and His Swerviness. But it’s a desperate and rewardless task, as Wade launches himself off the top rope with rolling knee drop, crushing Varga’s shoulder and eliciting a loud scream.
Truth Waters: Daring knee drop from the top rope! Wade landing right on James Varga the Handler’s left shoulder!
George Cassidy: Fortunately for him that’s not his writing arm.
Truth Waters: Why’s that matter?
George Cassidy: Because he’s just whipped out a notebook.
The crowd is left to wonder quite where this wad of paper bound by two sheets of cardboard was concealed, as Wade walks away, laughing to himself. The referee catches his eye with a stern glare, but His Swerviness flips him off – to the anger of the fans, who respect the Senior Referee – and rolls out of the ring to dip into his stash of weapons. No sooner is he there, though, than he is run through by Captain Jack Morgan’s cutlass.
Jack Morgan: ARRRRRR!
Truth Waters: Where in hell did he come from?
George Cassidy: THE NOTEBOOK, TRUTH, THE NOTEBOOK!
Truth Waters: Oh for Britney’s sake, not this again.
Morgan retracts his cutlass, finding that the blade is one of those retractable plastic ones. Wade realises this too, and swipes him angrily round the head, but The Killer Klown From Outer Space slams a baseball bat, taken from the trolley, across Mike Wade’s spine!
George Cassidy: That’s The Killer Klown From Outer Space with the bat shot!
Truth Waters: Defending his accomplice Captain Jack Morgan, who now gets to his feet.
Michael Ryan watches with total confusion from the ring. He can’t disqualify Varga the Handler; anything goes in this Relentless title match. But it sure is mighty strange, as the Handler crosses his legs in mid-ring and continues writing.
Wade twists away and sends a high crescent kick at The Killer Klown, who goes down. Morgan attempts a clothesline but Wade knees him in the gut, and Jack Morgan flips over to land flat on his back. Mike Wade’s twisted smile shows his pleasure in overcoming the former PTC Tag Team champions, known together as The Killer Pirates From The Outer Caribbean, but he hasn’t registered the sudden appearance of Cave Hulk.
Right behind him.
”...sends Wade flying into the guardrail.”
A sudden forearm thrust from the Hulk means that His Swerviness suddenly finds himself sailing through the air and hitting the security barrier with a sickening smack. The fans cheer wildly as Cave Hulk beats his chest. Meanwhile, the KPFTOC get up.
Truth Waters: This is ridiculous. Can’t Ryan do anything?
George Cassidy: Wade is fighting against the odds... maybe his buddy Adam Dick is gonna show up.
Truth Waters: I wouldn’t bet on it. He didn’t come down to the ring with him...
George Cassidy: Hence him not already having shown up, moron.
Cave Hulk lifts Mike Wade high above his head, roaring as the fans cheer him. He stands there for a good five seconds as the Pirates formulate a plan – or rather, their evil overlord known for no apparent reason as Dark Helmet formulates it for them. The KKFOS climbs into the ring and mounts one turnbuckle. CJM does the same on another. They stand tall and salute the crowd...
Truth Waters: Sweet Jesus!
Morgan and Klown leap off with diving splashes, landing simultaneously on Wade’s body as Hulk lets go and they all drop to the floor from nearly ten feet in the air!
George Cassidy: HOLY HELL!
Truth Waters: Double splash with a gorilla press slam, to the hard flooring at ringside! And that is just one of the damnedest things...
George Cassidy: Never have I seen something so... ugly!
Truth Waters: Wade cannot surely be conscious after that.
Hulk jumps into the air, beating his chest once more and growling as the fans cheer loud and clear.
”HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!”
Truth Waters: That was... SICKENING more than anything!
George Cassidy: I still can’t get over it. The gorilla press would’ve been bad enough considering Cave Hulk’s abnormal size... but with the downward motion of the Pirates coming down with him too... let’s just hope Mike Wade’s head didn’t crack off the floor first.
Truth Waters: If he kept that guarded... well... he’ll live.
James Varga the Handler throws his notebook down and stands ring centre, shunting his feet to shoulder width and raising his arms slowly up into the air as his head is held bowed. His arms reach the apex of their arc and his head now shoots up as he skips a couple of steps forward, leaning back with a loud yell. The crowd, amused, cheer the 130-pounder heavily.
George Cassidy: Always favouring the underdog... but James Varga the Handler looks fucking ridiculous in there. And he’s hardly an underdog when he can call on any one of over 100 creations to aid him however he chooses in this no-disqualification match!
Truth Waters: He appears to have forgotten that he’s actually got to pin Wade to win this match, though.
Morgan and Killer Klown, having rolled away, now begin to get unsteadily to their feet; the Killer Pirates, being two of Varga’s most notable characters, are cheered on by the fans.
”KILL-ER PIRATES! KILL-ER PIRATES!”
Varga the Handler now begins to mount each turnbuckle in turn, looking to soak up the maximum pop possible for having his characters obliterate one of the most unpopular men currently employed by AWC.
George Cassidy: Wade’s still down and out... and surely now is as good a time as any for Adam Dick to get out here and take out these intruders! Chair shot to the head and that’s it...
Truth Waters: I'm not sure anyone could manage a chair shot to the head of Cave Hulk without getting up on the top rope.
Cave Hulk begins to stomp around the ring, growling to the delight of children in the crowd. He now reaches into the ring and effortlessly lifts Varga the Handler with one hand, placing his writer on his shoulder as he continues his parade.
Truth Waters: It’s like a victory march without a victory...
Michael Ryan looks on, despairing, at the mess this match has become. Jack Morgan and KKFOS now each take an arm of His Swerviness and drape him against the ring apron. The Killer Pirates From The Outer Caribbean take turns in delivering kicks to his sternum, taking plenty of time between shots in the knowledge that the Relentless champion is barely conscious of the goings-on.
George Cassidy: They’re not being all too kind.
Truth Waters: Some stiff kicks from the Killer Pirates.
Varga jots something in his notebook, and suddenly Cave Hulk, Jack Morgan and the Killer Klown all come up with the same glorious idea. Setting Varga gently down, Cave Hulk lumbers over and pulls Wade to his feet by extending one arm and grasping him by his short hair. The Killer Pirates From The Outer Caribbean now take an arm each, serving the dual purposes of restraining His Swerviness and actually holding his up.
Truth Waters: They’re setting up for Varga to take a swing... and by God, he’ll enjoy that, after being dominated so badly before his buddies showed up.
George Cassidy: It’s a sad indictment that a 130-pound guy who can’t wrestle to save his God-damned life can hold down a spot on what should by rights by a highly selective roster. I mean, who’s made way for James Varga the Handler? Hot talents like Ellis Nash and Alex Strider are gone, and while we keep getting told AWC’s first Transatlantic champion is coming back, it’s just not happening. I think it’s a conspiracy by Pearl to keep the belt on his favourite, Pierce Lavelle!
Truth Waters: I miss Kuff McSlade...
The joke hasn’t worn old on the fans, though, and they cheer Varga on tongues-in-cheeks as he flexes his non-existent biceps. Wade, groggy, braces himself for the impending blow, and the Handler finally brings his arm back, forming a fist...
George Cassidy: Brace yourself for impact!
But Mike Wade ducks!
Truth Waters: Hey he ducked!
Moving fast, he flicks a leg up catching Captain Jack Morgan in the REGIONS~!, and dispatches of the Killer Klown From Outer Space with a searing right elbow to the temple. Varga the Handler gets a boot in the gut and a DDT, and Wade smiles as the Ford Arena (named of course after Lucy Ford, everyone’s favourite friend-of-Hyde) envelopes him in booing.
But he’s forgotten the Cave Hulk.
Truth Waters: DDT! Varga to the floor! And both Killer Pirates eliminated from the equation!
George Cassidy: But Cave Hulk’s presence is one you really cannot ignore!
Cave Hulk grunts, twinkling his fingers as he prepares to lay his paws on Wade’s throat. The Irishman can see no way out as the Hulk bears down on him, obliterating everything else from view. Wade almost stumbles as he walks into the ring apron.
Truth Waters: No more backing up now!
George Cassidy: Crunch time.
Cave Hulk gets ready to deliver the final blow – surely knocking any remaining challenge out of the barely-there Mike Wade – but His Swerviness has something up his sleeve and in desperation leaps upwards with a headbutt. Or a low blow. Depending how you look at it.
George Cassidy: A standing headbutt low blow!... well, that’s something I never imagined possible!
Truth Waters: More of a high blow if you ask me.
George Cassidy: AWC: delivering high blow entertainment.
Cave Hulk staggers, takes a step, and drops like a stone. BOOM. The entire Ford Arena shakes as Varga’s creation falls to the floor, joining the Killer Klown, who is out cold, and Captain Jack Morgan, whose yells of “Arrrrrrrrr!” do nothing to quell the pain in his loins. Almost ready to collapse, Mike Wade reminds himself of his final duty, and rolls James Varga the Handler into the ring.
Truth Waters: I hadn’t even entertained the possibility up till now... but Mike Wade could win this match!
George Cassidy: Certainly, and hang onto that title belt in the process.
Staggering over to his trolley of weapons, he pulls out a framed work of Piet Mondrian: Composition With Red, Yellow And Blue. Now sliding into the ring, he lets it fall to his side in his left hand as he drags Varga up with his right. The 130-pounder gasps for breath as he stares up at Wade with pleading eyes. The champion sneers – and smashes the huge frame over his skull.
Truth Waters: Vicious!
George Cassidy: That’s a Mondrian!
Truth Waters: Only a print.
George Cassidy: AWC: smashing the boundaries of modern art.
The Handler can’t keep himself up, falling unsteadily onto Wade, who holds him at arm’s length, observing with delight the small shards of glass in and around his hair.
Truth Waters: There could be some quite serious head wounds there.
George Cassidy: The ring’s going to take some clearing up too! This is only our first match tonight!
The benefits of his second wind dwindling, however, Wade is on his last legs too, and he intelligently identifies that now is the time for the coup de grace. With a lazy precision, Mike Wade draws Varga in between his legs, lifts him up by his arms, and scores the TFW.
George Cassidy: TFW! And that’s the end.
Truth Waters: Varga the Handler’s head driven back into those shards of glass on the canvas! He will need attention, that’s for sure.
Michael Ryan makes the count, but it’s a formality, with all three of Varga’s assistants showing a surprising sluggishness in getting up at ringside. Perhaps they draw their lifeblood from the man himself. Who knows?
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Ladies and gentlemen, a strong start and a strong end means that “His Swerviness” Mike Wade retains his title – but not without some weirdness along the way.
Cave Hulk and The Killer Pirates From The Outer Caribbean just disappear as the Handler lies prone, having been outsmarted and outclassed by the sneaky and occasionally sadistic Relentless champion, who is having his victory announced.
James Brunt: The winner... and still Relentless champion... MIKE WADE!
Jin Osaka and Matt Matthews rush down the aisle with a stretcher – Nurse Matthews managing to drop his end on the way but Nurse Osaka continuing regardless – and carry the 22-year-old, who is now bleeding freely from various points on his head, backstage for medical attention.
Truth Waters: A hot opening match in terms of entertainment, at least!
Sticking Around
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The video screen comes to life – and fans immediately begin to cheer as they see the toned frame of two-time Frontier champion Tim Shipley standing importantly in front of a door. His newly-won-back title belt stands over his shoulder and there’s gel in his hair; a sense of pride is evident in Shipley tonight.
The door opens, the Englishman having knocked before our feed started, and Entertainment Manager David Harber welcomes Shipley into his humble abode. Loaded with plasma screens, huge surround-sound speakers, a white leather sofa with stylish silver and black cushions and a sleekly finished cherry wood desk, its furnishings are clearly intended for an occupant who will be staying more than a few hours, as will be the case for Pearl tonight.
Shipley casts a glance at the low sofa and elects to stand, as Harber, running a hand through his hair, breaks the silence.
Pearl: So, here to return your gold, Tim?
Pearl is, of course, referring to the self-imposed retirement from wrestling that the 20-year-old should really have begun the day after Testimony; his contract expired at the end of September.
Shipley takes a breath, his eyes shooting down to the floor.
Tim Shipley: I, er... I was thinking about staying.
In the distance, the crowd erupts into cheers, and hearing this, both men stay silent. Shipley looks into Harber’s eyes, almost pleading with him, but his boss looks more surprised than anything.
Pearl: Tim, I thought you were set on this Mathematics degree...
Tim Shipley: I know, I know, I – am. I just – well, you saw what happened after my match...
Pearl: The Face-Eater unmasking?
Tim Shipley: No!
Shipley looks almost as if he’s forgotten his bitter feud with The Illustrious Face-Eater entirely. But the events of those summer months are small-time compared to what he has on his hands now.
Tim Shipley: No, when I was... attacked. And then of course, when he came out tonight...
He can’t even bring himself to mention Tony Aliso by name. The man who died just two days after winning the Core Wrestling Tag Team title belts with Shipley at Gold & Glory on March 31st... or so we thought... savagely attacked his friend... or so we thought... after the dramatic conclusion of the No Escape match at AWC’s pay-per-view event in September.
Pearl: Oh. Oh, I do see. Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll write you up a new contract tonight...
Harber can’t disguise a beaming smile creeping over his face. He’s nurtured Shipley for months and always hidden a secret desire that the man who’s become one of his biggest crowd-pullers would go back on his word to stick to the three-month contract. Now, with Shipley at the height of his popularity, he gets to keep him – but not just as a money-maker. As a Good Guy backstage. You can’t have enough of those.
Tim Shipley: Thanks, Mr. Harber. So, er... are you wanting this?
Shipley regretfully takes the belt off his shoulder and holds it out, but Pearl stares back at him as if he is mad.
Pearl: No, no! No need to surrender it now... not if you’re staying. Enjoy your second reign... and enjoy your stay in AWC!
Shipley sniffs.
Tim Shipley: I'm not sure I’ll be able to enjoy it as such... but I’ll do my best.
An Insult
FEATURING: SARAH KENNEDY, JACK MURPHY
AUTHOR: FERGUS
Backstage we have the familiarity of a small locker room door placed in front of the camera. Wrestlers are seen going in and out about their business, mostly jobbers who aren’t involved on the main show for the evening. As the shot expands we see that Sarah Kennedy is waiting in the wings outside the door, apparently for someone in particular. Kennedy is smartly dressed in a ladies’ business suit and is primed with her microphone at the ready. Her blonde hair cascades down her body and you can see as several of the wrestlers walk on by that she is mesmerising each and every one.
Sarah Kennedy: Hey guys, I’m just backstage here and waiting for one of the rising stars in the AWC…
As she is about to finish this sentence another wrestler walks out of the locker room and stands out an awful lot more than the other jobbers before this. Wearing black sweat pants and his wrestling gear he towers over Kennedy. With one hand he’s pulling at a short blonde goatee, the rest of his cheeks covered in stubble. A good few lines reveal his age but other than that he looks to be in his prime. Finally tied back in a ponytail is shoulder length blonde hair.
Wrestler: A rising star no better than Jack Murphy miss.
His accent is distinctly Irish and you can see that Kennedy is both flabbergasted and also irritated at the fact that another Irishman has come to AWC. Murphy begins to idly flex his muscles, ignoring the camera but instead staring at Kennedy directly, a stone-faced expression present.
Jack Murphy: So miss, what is it you wanted to ask me? How do I feel about being in the AWC? What I’m going to achieve here? It’s really quite simple to be honest so let me tell you.
Murphy moves to take up a more prominent position in front of the camera, shying Kennedy a bit behind him as he can address the audience properly.
Jack Murphy: It’s been a long time since I’ve been on the road wrestling again and it seems that people have forgotten ‘The Bull.’ It seems crazy to me because I believe I made such an impact the last time I was around. However, that doesn’t matter because now, each and everyone in that viewing audience is privileged to see someone special, someone unique.
Tilting his head slightly, Murphy’s expression turns from grim to a bit more amiable, while at the same time he begins to show off his physique.
Jack Murphy: I’m in the best shape of my life and to get here I’ve had to make an awful lot of sacrifices, more than most people will make in a lifetime. I DESERVE to be where I am today because of my effort, not because of some of these pretty boys running around right now who don’t give a damn about experience or paying your dues.
Kennedy is fidgeting in the background, very uncomfortable and The Bull notices this right away. He turns to face her and approach her.
Jack Murphy: Because they don’t understand that they haven’t reached their peak miss. They haven’t become anything worthwhile yet because they don’t have the experience that comes with age. This…
He points to himself.
Jack Murphy: This is as good as it gets! You don’t get where you are today in this kind of shape without knowing what’s right, wrong and necessary. I have the tools, the intelligence and capabilities far beyond anybody on this roster today and it shows. Let me ask you something… did you see Testimony?
He points his finger directly at Sarah, who, a little shocked, is slow to answer.
Sarah Kennedy: Well… yeah…
Jack Murphy: Well then you saw the idiotic, ridiculous, disgrace of a match that was… what was it even called? A Janitor’s Closet match?
Sarah Kennedy: Oh the Janitor’s Closet match with James Varga and another James Varga and FREDROCK~!. Yeah of course I saw that one, that was great!
Murphy’s brow furrows, fuming with anger at this response and Kennedy knows it.
Jack Murphy: That was a travesty and disgrace to the very wrestling gods! This only proves my point, the youth in wrestling just don’t understand what they’re doing. I am here to prove to them that what matters is that you put on a good WRESTLING match and I am the one to show it. Now young lady what did you want to ask me?
Kennedy fumbles around a little bit and you can see she’s uneasy. She takes a couple of looks at the camera before finally having the nerve to respond to Murphy.
Sarah Kennedy: Well Mr. Murphy…
Jack Murphy: Call me Jack.
Sarah Kennedy: Jack… I was waiting for John Edwards.
The look on The Bull’s face darkens and clouds over as realisation hits him. There is also a faint puzzled expression, as if the name seems to tick off some memory in him.
Jack Murphy: So this is the treatment I get? My debut on Fresh! and I get nothing. No interview, no greeting, no welcoming from anybody, not even anyone on the roster. Well that’s fine, I don’t need you, I don’t need anybody. I’m going to prove to them all you better treat me seriously because I am not to be messed with!
Slamming the door shut behind him, he grabs Kennedy and pushes her into the wall, blocking her escape from him with his tree-trunk like arms. The camera moves round to see how frightened Sarah is.
Jack Murphy: (taking a piece of her hair in his hand) You’re a pretty lass, I’ll give you that. But don’t ever be so stupid to insult me like that you hear me?
Kennedy quickly nods and doesn’t move otherwise.
Jack Murphy: (sniffing the hair) Good, now you tell them, you tell them all… that I’m AS GOOD AS IT GETS!
With another slam into the door with his fist, Jack Murphy walks off much to Kennedy’s relief. She looks at the camera and sighs, as we switch back to the action.
Butterfly Hamada vs Juri Hyobanshi
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: TASO
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Tokyo, Japan, weighing in at160 pounds... BUTTERFLY HAMADA!
Dean Evenson's "Breath of Sky", a spiritual song filled with birds singing, nature, and a meditative flow follows Butterfly Hamada to the ring. She bows to the referee and the ring announcer and then bows to the fans. She smiles and waves at some people in the front row before going to her corner and getting loose.
James Brunt: And her opponent, from The Shibuya, Japan, weighing in at 130 pounds… JURI HYOBANSHI!
'Carry' by Gazette plays as Juri Hyobanshi makes her way to the ring. The fans hate her guts and she laughs in their faces. She shows complete disgust with everyone, but once she hits the ring she places her eyes squarely on her opponent.
George Cassidy: Wow! We are bringing joshi puroresu wrestling right to the United States! Two great, awesome, incredible female Japanese wrestlers are here and I can tell you right now I feel they are going to put on a freaking clinic!
Truth Waters: I hope Hamada knows what she is getting herself into here with the Angelic Demon, Juri Hyobanshi.
Referee Larsson calls for the bell and the two women circle each other.
George Cassidy: And now they come together in a clinch.
Knee right to the gut by Juri. And another as she forces Hamada to the ropes. Irish whip... duck under by Hamada... hooks an arm and a Mexican arm drag by Hamada! Juri comes right up and after her... and another arm drag! DROPKICK!
George Cassidy: Hamada on target! Hurricanrana! WHOA! There goes Juri, right out of the ring!
Truth Waters: She's not playing this game with Hamada. Hyobanshi has little knowledge of what Hamada can do unless she's gotten tapes or whatnot. Hamada can just go through some AWC archives and I bet she did. I am sure she did her homework, that's the kind of wrestler she seems to be.
Meanwhile Hyobanshi is on the outside and the ref is counting.
Truth Waters: Juri Hyobanshi is giving the ref a piece of her mind, claiming hair pulling, tights, whatever. She's pissed off.
George Cassidy: Juri back in the ring now and we have another collar and elbow tie-up.
This time Hamada uses her height and weight advantage and she pushes Juri to the ropes. Clean break...
George Cassidy: HELLO! Kick to the gut by Juri!
Truth Waters: She sweeps Hamada's legs out from under her... to the ropes and a big leg drop... MISSES! Both girls are up... rolling koppou kick by Hamada catches Hyobanshi in the face!
Butterfly Hamada to the ropes... running knee! Elbow drop!
Truth Waters: Elbow! And again! And again!
George Cassidy: Butterfly Hamada now in control.
She picks Juri up by her hair and whips her across the ring. Reversal! Springboard back elbow smash!
George Cassidy: Hamada bringing out some great offense!
Both ladies up... STO by Hamada!
Truth Waters: STO! She used Juri's momentum against her!
Another whip to the ropes, and a jumping heel kick, but NO! Juri hangs onto the ropes and Hamada misses! PELE KICK TO THE FACE!
George Cassidy: Shades of Toshiaki Kawada!!!
Truth Waters: HAMADA HAS A BUSTED NOSE! JESUS CHRIST!
Buckets of blood pour out of Hamada's face as Juri starts pounding away on her with kicks to the back and head. The referee checks with Hamada, but she is not giving up. Juri picks Hamada up and slaps her across the face, old school Japan style. Then she pushes her towards the corner. Juri sprints to the turnbuckle and flies up in the air with a twisting corkscrew moonsault and on the way down hits an axe kick right on the top of Hamada's head.
George Cassidy: ONE WINGED ANGEL! Oh man, the referee is going to have to call this match. Hamada is in bad shape, bleeding like a stuck pig!
Truth Waters: She's got more leaks in her then a New Orleans levy!
George Cassidy: Not funny and not necessary!
Truth Waters: Clothesline out of the ring and there go both Hyobanshi and Hamada to the floor outside! Hamada is in big trouble here because Juri Hyobanshi is a nasty bitch and she will hurt her like no one else can imagine. OH! Face to the ring post and Butterfly Hamada is a BLOODY MESS!
Hyobanshi now drapes Hamada across the guard railing in front of the fans and wants everyone to watch... KNIFE EDGE CHOP!
George Cassidy: This woman is infamous for those chops... AND AGAIN! The fans love the shots, hate the woman! But ya gotta respect her!
Juri Hyobanshi slams Hamada's head into the railing, then rolls into the ring to restart the refs count. Hyobanshi then grabs Hamada and picks her up and delivers an Emerald Fusion piledriver on the hard floor.
Truth Waters: GAAAAAAAAH! That was BRUTAL! Hyobanshi just wants to punish this newcomer to AWC. She doesn't want to win, she wants to destroy! Now she drapes Butterfly Hamada back over the guard rail and she is... DIGGING AT THE EYEBALL! OH MAN! OH MY GOD!
George Cassidy: This woman has no ethics, no scruples, no feelings or emotions except one. Hate. Anger. And she is taking it out on Hamada.
Juri Hyobanshi now rolling back into the ring... and back out again!
Truth Waters: She REALLY wants to hurt Hamada!
Kick to the gut! Knife edge chop! ROARING ELBOW! Hamada goes down in a bloody heap and it doesn't look good.
George Cassidy: Juri Hyobanshi now plays to the fans, who do not appreciate her arrogance, although they respect her style I am sure.
Juri looks at Hamada with a smirk and is heading back to the ring, finally. Truth Waters: NO! Butterfly Hamada just grabbed Hyobanshi by the hair! She has her by the hair and she pulls her back out to the floor! Slams her face right into our announce table! Then on the ring apron! Then into the steel railing! SHORT ARM ROUNDHOUSE KICK! Wow!
Referee Lars Larsson starts counting again.
ONE! TWO! THREE!
RUNNING YAKUZA KICK!
Truth Waters: Hamada, blood everywhere, fighting back!
She grabs a stunned Juri... BELLY TO BELLY SCREW SUPLEX PILEDRIVER!
Truth Waters: Who’s busted open now?! The fans are going nuts! That was amazing and it was nasty!
FOUR! FIVE! SIX!
Truth Waters: Hamada is now heading to the ring. No, wait, she is climbing the turnbuckle from the apron. What the hell is she doing? And Juri is right there with her! Both of them are climbing up... both of them on the top rope... LOOK OUT!!!
CRASH
George Cassidy: YA GOTTA LOVE IT! YA GOTTA LOVE IT!
Truth Waters: Butterfly Hamada and Juri Hyobanshi just DESTROYED our announcers’ table! Shards and splinters flew everywhere! This thing is trashed, and so are our wrestlers!
SEVEN! EIGHT! NINE! TEN!
Truth Waters: Double count out! But more like a double homicide! The match is over but these two look like they're ready for more!
The fans chant "FIVE MORE MINUTES!"
George Cassidy: And here come some road agents to break this thing up. OH MAN! Juri just kicked Butch Radder right in the nuts!
Truth Waters: Taz Yorke and Big Bruno Hague are out here with their security guys and here comes Dr. Burns and we have a hellcat fight on our hands!
James Brunt: Referee Lars Larsson has proclaimed this match to be a DOUBLE COUNT OUT! DOUBLE COUNT OUT!
George Cassidy: It might be over here and now but I have a feeling this is far from the end. These two will certainly meet again, God help us, everyone!
Who Homo?
FEATURING: RED ROCK, BOOLIE, THE BRITISH BOMBER
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
The opening feedback of "Blame Thrower" by Reuben hits as the lights lower to darkness. The riff begins and the lights flicker red, and Red Rock's logo hits the big screen. The heavy riff kicks in...
George Cassidy: Oh no...
Truth Waters: Looks like we're going to hear from our Livewire champion!
We all have responsibilities,
we all have a social debt
and if there is a man free of guilt,
I haven't met him yet
...and Red Rock bursts out from behind the curtain with huge amounts of energy receiving a rather loud pop from the crowd. Red Rock stands with his hands on his hips taking in the very rare attention. He pats his Livewire title and head towards the ring as Boolie follows behind Red Rock.
So now you’re backed in a corner,
you’re under verbal attack
they’re pointing fingers like guns in your face and
nobody’s got your back
Red Rock walks down to the ring with a cheeky smile on his face giving members of the crowd a nod and a thumbs-up but making an effort not to touch anyone. Red Rock reaches the ring and pulls himself up on to the apron and hops over the top rope and poses to the crowd, pouting with his hand on his hip. Red Rock claps his hands and someone throws him a microphone
Red Rock: Hellooooooooooo –
The crowd pop for Red Rock, who stands and grins to himself a little more and looks over at Boolie and mouths the word “this is cool” to him. He raises the microphone back to his lips
Red Rock: HELLO TEXAS!
Red Rock opens up his arms and received another huge pop.
George Cassidy: Why do they cheer this guy? He's a total moron, he still lives in a crappy apartment!
Truth Waters: He's an anti-hero, the people can relate to the fact he's a loser!
George Cassidy: So because he's a bed-wetter weirdo the people love him?
Truth Waters: Err... something like that...
Red Rock: This is brilliant! Thank you all. First of all I'd like to say that I do still watch South Park and it’s FUCKING brilliant! But that's for another day... Oh yeah by the way Boolie is back!
George Cassidy: No, it's not.
The crowd pop for Boolie, who was released from the evil clutches of The British Bomber.
Red Rock: Maybe Boolie will shed some light on what the British Bomber did to him? Boolie?
Boolie calls for a microphone as well and holds it up in the air whilst stretching his arm.
Red Rock: Boolie, tell the people of Texas exactly what The British Bomber did to you whilst you were in captivity.
Boolie: Red, it was terrible...
Boolie puts his hand up to his eyes and pretends to cry whilst Red Rock rubs his back.
Red Rock: It's alright Boolie, in your own time.
Boolie: I'm ok Red, I'm ok. He... he...
Boolie pretends to cry again and this time sits on the floor and rocks back and forth.
Red Rock: People, this man has obviously suffered at the hands of The British Bomber. In your own time Boolie.
Boolie is now curled up on the floor and he utters in the microphone.
Boolie: He... he... The British Bomber... TRIED TO MAKE OUT WITH ME!
Red Rock: HE DID WHAT?!
Boolie: He tied me up to a chair and tried to make out with me EVERY day.
Red Rock acts all flabbergasted and puts his hand on his hips.
Red Rock: Well... that's... just... DISGUSTING. What else did he do?
Boolie: He tried to toss –
Red Rock cuts Boolie off and covers his mouth in disgust.
Red Rock: Boolie, please that's enough there are families in the audience, they don't want their children to hear how The British Bomber tugged on your sausage vigorously every evening after watching his Will and Grace DVD box set!
The crowd groan in disgust at Red Rock's words.
Red Rock: Well Bomber, I sure hope you're going to come out here and explain these... these... FOUL actions. No wonder you wanted me out you wanted to be the only gay in AWC In fact I wouldn't be surprised if you had anything to do with Rainbow Flag leaving! It all makes sense now... you KNOB JOCKEY! Now get out here and explain your actions!
Red Rock folds his arms with a stiff upper lip and awaits The British Bomber.
Truth Waters: Uh oh, it's on now!
The arena is filled with red, white and blue lights. "Enter Sandman" by Metallica begins to play and fill out the arena as the crowd starts to boo loudly. The British Bomber emerges at the top of the ramp with an extremely annoyed face. Enter sandman pounds on as The British Bomber clenches his fists and stares daggers at Red Rock.
SUDDENLY “Enter Sandman” cuts out and the Village People classic “YMCA” blares over the PA. British Bomber's eyes spring open and before he can react a group of men dressed at the village people jump out from behind the curtain and begin to dance around the British Bomber.
Red Rock: BAAAAAH HHHHA HA HA HA HA HA HA!
Red Rock and Boolie roll around on the floor pointing and laughing at the British Bomber as he shoves away the Village People imitators.
Truth Waters: IT'S FUN TO STAY AT THE Y-M-C-A!
British Bomber makes a beeline for the ring grunting and snarling as he paces down the ramp.
Red Rock: Ok, ok Bomber calm down love, it's just a joke. Ha, ha woo! Lets not let our emotions get the better of us here. Come in, come in!
British Bomber climbs in the ring and snatches the microphone off Red Rock who holds his hands up in a “oooh handbags” gesture.
George Cassidy: Red Rock is pushing his luck here, The British Bomber has a less than short temper.
Red Rock: So Steven, what do you have to say for yourself, you homo!
The crowd begin to chant as Red Rock giggles.
“HOMO HOMO HOMO”
The British Bomber's face turns colour with rage as the crowd's chants get louder.
Truth Waters: I want to know what he has to say for himself.
George Cassidy: Oh COME ON Truth it's obvious he's not gay. He doesn't have to explain himself to Red Rock.
Truth Waters: He's not exactly denying it though.
Red Rock stands with a goofy smile on his face waiting.
Red Rock: Well say something Bomber, I've got you figured out! They always say that when you’re in the closest you become homophobic... you pillow biting nanny's boy!
CRACK
Out of nowhere British Bomber drops the microphone and plants his fist full pelt in Red Rock's face, bursting his nose open and sending him crashing straight to the floor.
Truth Waters: Good Lord! He might have just broken Red Rock's nose!
British Bomber steps out of the ring and “Enter Sandman” by Metallica hits. Boolie kneels down next to Red Rock and holds his head up and he lays on the mat completely dazed.
George Cassidy: And that's what The British Bomber has to say to Red Rock.
Truth Waters: Actions speak louder than words Cassidy, actions speak louder than words.
Accusation
FEATURING: ADAM DICK, PIERCE LAVELLE
AUTHORS: LARA CLARKE AND JOE SCHMIDT
The scene is a midst of chaos. Backstage crew are shuffling through each recording of Testimony, looking for all those little secrets that became embedded at the end of the show. The crowd in Beaumont, Texas are ecstatic and on their feet, enjoying each unravelling moment from the aftermath of Testimony and why shouldn't they?
The camera pans around the backstage and we are greeted by the face of Adam Dick – formally and formerly known as The Illustrious Face-Eater. He stands methodically against a large blue and steel crate, dressed in his usual attire and sipping a bottle of water. A cocky grin lines his face as he watches clips from the after-show. David "Pearl" Harber is seen on the television standing alongside the fallen Transatlantic champion, Pierce Lavelle.
Voice: You attacked me!
A voice calls from behind the camera. Adam Dick straightens his posture, wipes his mouth with his sleeve and turns to the voice shouting the accusation. Pierce Lavelle comes into view. Dressed in casual jeans and a black wife-beater. His nose is still bruised and his arm is still in a sling. He stands face-to-face with Adam Dick.
Adam Dick: That's a very bold statement!
Dick moves forward a little and points to Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle: Don't be coy with me, Dick. You know damn well what I'm talking about.
Adam Dick: Oh yeah! What's that, Purse?
Pierce Lavelle: It's Pierce, Dick.
Adam Dick: Uh-huh! I'm waiting for you to get to the point of this statement.
Pierce Lavelle: Testimony, after the cage was lifted and Paddy O'Shea and Mike Wade were hanging on for dear life, I ran up the stage to help them, with you not too far behind; the next thing I know, I'm being slammed into a door and then through a cafeteria table, and you mysteriously disappear after the cage crashes to the ground and after you leave me in a bloodied mess.
Adam Dick: What makes you think I attacked you?
Pierce Lavelle: You were the only one behind me. Nobody else was in the corridor, at that time.
Adam Dick: ...I don't know what you're talking about.
The former Face-Eater fastens the bottle cap on his bottle of water, and takes a step back from Pierce Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle: I watched your mind games with Shipley; I won't let you do the same to me.
Adam Dick: Brave, aren't we? You aren't in any condition to make threats, Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle: Threats! You aren't worth my time, Dick. The statement I made is evidentially true and you know it.
Adam Dick: We'll see, Purse.
Pierce Lavelle: We will... I'll prove I'm right.
Pierce Lavelle takes two steps back, hoists his title over his good shoulder and walks off in the opposite direction, leaving Adam Dick alone with the booing and hissing from the crowd.
Jack Murphy vs Titan
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
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: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds... JACK MURPHY!
George Cassidy: Great, exactly what we need... ANOTHER Irishman.
Truth Waters: It is getting a bit out of control, damn Irish taking our jobs and our women!
George Cassidy: Truth. What are you talking about?
Truth Waters: Nothing, just call the match!
Fireworks shoot off into the air at the entrance way and "Let The Hammer Fall" by Hammerfall begins playing, the fans stand up now and the lights dim down just a little bit. From out of the back steps Titan as the crowd cheers at a moderate level and he makes his way to the ring.
It's getting closer now
The clock strikes midnight time
It is the tolling of the judgement bell
You fear the dead of night
There ain't no place to hide
This is your point of no return
Now we are ready to strike, again
It's getting far too late, my friend
Let the hammer fall
Titan is now in the ring and he climbs on the turnbuckle and raises his arm with a very proud look on his face, the fans again cheering and going a little more wild now though you can hear a few drowned boos in the crowd tonight. The music slowly fade out and the lights begin to dim back up as Titan gets ready for his match-up.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Toronto, Canada, weighing in at 293 pounds… TITAN!
Aaron Davies calls for the bell and the match begins. Jack Murphy almost instantly launches the first assault, keen to make an impression on his debut. Murphy locks up with the bigger man Titan. The two powerhouses test each other's strength by trying to force one another to their knees. Murphy gets the upper hand and forces Titan to his knees before applying a headlock.
George Cassidy: Titan isn't looking himself tonight
Truth Waters: Maybe it's that damn flu that's been going around?
Jack Murphy wrenches the lock with a smile on his face, but Titan pulls one back and lifts Murphy using his strength and hitting Murphy with an atomic bomb. Murphy bounces off Titan’s knee and clutches his rear end in pain! Titan launches off the mat and takes Murphy's head off with a diving lariat. Titan covers immediately.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout.
Murphy pulls his shoulder off the mat and Titan maintains control with a couple of closed fists to the head. Titan lifts Murphy off the mat by the head and drives his knee viciously in to Murphy's gut.
George Cassidy: Murphy leans over holding his gut whilst Titan rebounds of the ropes towards Murphy, however Murphy counters with a back body… NO wait he changes to a SPINEBUSTER!
And the ring rumbles and shakes with the force of Titan being driven powerfully in to the mat.
Truth Waters: That has some authority behind it, Jack Murphy is definitely a powerhouse, I haven't seen anyone spank Titan like that before!
Titan lays flat on his back clutching the back of his head, unsure what just happened and Murphy capitalizes by wrapping both hands around Titan's throat and pulling him up off the mat and off his feet.
George Cassidy: That's pretty impressive, Titan isn't exactly small at 293 pounds.
Truth Waters: These men are very evenly matched in size, Murphy is 6'5” and Titan 6'5” and only about 20 pounds between them in weight.
Murphy tosses Titan in to the corner and barrages him with some harsh punches to the rips and finishing him off with a European uppercut. Titan collapses back in to the corner and Murphy stands back shaking his head at Titan.
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy doesn't seem impressed with the efforts of Titan.
Murphy backs up to the opposite corner to Titan and bursts out aiming to deliver a big boot to the face of Titan and delivers it straight in the middle of his face making him fall down to the floor. Murphy picks Titan up and sends him back down to the mat with a gut wrench power bomb and makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Truth Waters: Titan's still got some life in him yet, although Jack Murphy is totally dominating him!
Jack Murphy grumbles to himself and yanks Titan back up to his feet once again, but Titan fights back and swats Murphy's hand off his and strikes Murphy with a fist to the head. Murphy staggers back but not for long, he counters with a fist of his own and Titan retorts with another fist of his own.
George Cassidy: Both men exchanging blows here, Titan is starting to build back some of that momentum he lost earlier.
Titan begins to gain the upper hand and forces Murphy again the ropes. He bends Murphy's back over the ropes by forcing his forearm across his chest before whipping him against the adjacent ropes. Titan catches Murphy on the rebound and ground him with a sidewalk slam. Titan gets back to his feet and drops an elbow across the sternum of Murphy and covers
ONE!
TWO!
Murphy kicks out.
George Cassidy: You can't pin someone after an elbow drop... why do people even bother?
Titan allows Murphy go get back to his feet, but Murphy is still feeling the effects of Titan's powerful sidewalk slam. Titan waits behind Murphy and delivers a bulldog, planting Murphy's face in to the mat. Titan raises Murphy off the mat again and sets him up for a vertical suplex but Murphy resists. Titan attempts again but Murphy holds on to Titan's tights and reverses in his own suplex. Both men are now out on the floor catching their breath.
Truth Waters: Both men are putting in a great effort, this is such an even match.
Jack Murphy is first to get to his feet as Titan sluggishly follows. Jack Murphy shakes off the cobwebs and glares over at Titan who is just getting to his feet. Murphy stalks Titan with a grin on his face. Titan gets to his feet and turns around looking for his opponent. Jack Murphy launches himself as Titan expectantly and hits him with The Bull Charge!
Truth Waters: The Bull Charge, and correct me if I'm wrong but I think I know what’s coming next!
George Cassidy: Fall From Grace?
Truth Waters: Yes.
Jack Murphy drags Titan off his back and sets him up in a vertical suplex position and spins him round in a kneeling inverted piledriver!
George Cassidy: That move is cool!
Jack Murphy makes a cover
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner… JACK MURPHY!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy gets the upper hand on the heavier man and wins his debut here in AWC!
The End Of Night
FEATURING: ???
AUTHOR: SC00T
The Ford Arena falls to absolute silence as the big screen kicks into action. A silent backstage area is shown briefly before a cut to one solitary locker room door. Mystery enshrouds the audience as they are left wondering who lies behind the door. In the ever reliable timing of the big screen it seems that somebody is just leaving the room, the door creeks open slowly, but as it does the lights in the hallway flicker on, off, on, off. Zap—Zapp. And then, as only one halogen light bulb holds on to a constant flicker, leaving the others completely blacked out, the large frame of an unknown athlete steps from behind the door, a black towel draped over his head. Long black locks drop from beneath the shield covering his face, as he stands halfway out of the room. The flickering of the light emphasises the curves and peaks of his muscular frame. Six feet four, around two hundred and fifty pounds. His head turns to look back in to the locker room from which he has emerged.
???: I’ll do you proud.
His voice is deep, rough. The voice of a man who has a mission to complete. He pulls the door closed behind him and begins to step through the hushed halls of the arena’s backstage area, an occasional flicker from the bulbs that run in strips above his head. It seems that the phenomenal looking athlete is making his way towards the ring, but with so little known about the man the audience continue to watch in a voyeuristic trance, left with unanswered questions.
As the man makes his way down the hallway voices begin to echo, bouncing from the walls of the corridor of which he travels down. The voices are completely illegible, a montage of different voices at different times, saying different things. The gentleman’s hands reach up to his ears, which he grasps at in complete agony. The towel scrunches under the clench of his fists as he lets out a blood curdling scream and collapses to his knees. Blood begins to drip down onto the cold white floor beneath him as his screams continue. He arches over, leaning his head on the floor in the puddle of blood beneath him. At that moment the screams subside and the athletically built man rolls over onto his side and lays completely motionless, the towel still covering his face, but in no way concealing the expanding puddle of blood by the mysterious male’s face.
Just as the scene begins to fade the man is discovered by a passer-by, Matt Matthews, who screams for help.
Black.
'Mare vs Patrick Mapleleaf
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: TASO
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, weighing in at 246 pounds... 'MARE!
'Mare comes to the ring with "Magdalena" playing overhead. The 6'4" man looks very intimidating.
The Canadian National Anthem plays in the arena and a huge chorus of boos erupts from every corner. One would think Patrick Mapleleaf would be intimidated by this reaction, but when the young man emerges, he has a huge beaming smile on his face. Mapleleaf takes in the reaction and heads down the ramp way, mockingly conducting the anthem as it plays.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Toronto, Canada, weighing in at 254 pounds… PATRICK MAPLELEAF!
George Cassidy: Patrick Mapleleaf looking to come back strong after a loss at Testimony.
Truth Waters: He has a BIG mountain ahead of him right here, a tough match with the debuting 'Mare.
Both men are circling each other very carefully.
George Cassidy: Look at the snickering facials from 'Mare. They would make any man or woman think twice about getting in the ring with that monster.
Mapleleaf looking for his opening... and they lock horns.
Truth Waters: They are very evenly matched in weight and strength, these two men.
But 'Mare seems to be getting the leverage and he pushes Mapleleaf to the ropes.
George Cassidy: Referee Michael Ryan looking for a clean break here and he's getting it from 'Mare... WHOA! 'Mare took a wild swing but Mapleleaf ducked under it! Chop to the chest! And another! Rake of the eyes! The ref has something to say about that as Mapleleaf tells him 'Mare had something in his eye, to that effect as he grabs him in a headlock. OH MAN! Did he just ram a knee to 'Mare's groin region!?
Truth Waters: The referee couldn't see it! Mapleleaf taking liberties here with 'Mare. Spike to the throat, punch to the face, and a dropkick! Planted right on the kisser and 'Mare goes down. Mapleleaf very proud of himself... but he doesn't see 'Mare getting up right away! He turns around... GORILLA PRESS! Oh my God! 'Mare just dropped him from 5 stories high to the mat!
George Cassidy: Now he grabs the ref and is yelling at him. The ref won't take that kinda crap from anybody and he's warning 'Mare. OH YUCK! 'Mare just emptied a nostril right into the first row, and the fans are letting him have it! We have got a couple of real boy scouts in there tonight, huh? A weirdo freak and a Canadian douchebag!
'Mare heads toward Mapleleaf, who is playing possum. Then come the kicks. Mapleleaf cracks 'Mare in the left thigh once, then again. A right kick to the knee and 'Mare grabs his leg in pain. Mapleleaf goes downstairs with a dropkick to the legs and 'Mare hits the canvas. Mapleleaf hits a reverse neck snap, wrenching the neck and back. 'Mare fights it off and tries to get to his feet. Nerve strike by Mapleleaf on the trapezoid slows 'Mare down for a second. A few more stomps and kicks to the head and 'Mare is spinning.
George Cassidy: Mapleleaf dissecting 'Mare here with well placed moves.
Now he heads to the corner and climbs the ropes. 'Mare gets up...
Truth Waters: FLYING SOMERSAULT NECKBREAKER! Mapleleaf has now gained a decisive control in this match.
He picks up 'Mare...
George Cassidy: WOW! He has power!
He has him up over his shoulder and tucks 'Mare's legs around his waist.
Truth Waters: What is he doing?
Spinning Gory Special 2000!
Truth Waters: Patrick Mapleleaf showing his technical prowess here. 'Mare looks a bit stunned as he sits up and Mapleleaf... CRACK! Yowza! Kick right to the back of the neck! He rattled his spine! CRACK! Another shin kick to the back!
George Cassidy: He's working that back and neck, working the vertebrae. He is setting up 'Mare for the Full Blown Canadian!
Truth Waters: He's a technician. A technician works body parts when he can, setting one move up with another. Like a game of chess. And right here, Patrick picks up 'Mare and he bends him over, grabs an arm through the legs... pumphandle neck breaker! And a cover...
ONE!
Kickout!
George Cassidy: Oh man! 'Mare shrugging off Mapleleaf's offense!
Patrick throws punches, but 'Mare doesn't sell them at all. The fans want blood here it seems, neither man being cheered, just the violence that is about to take place. 'Mare blocks a punch and lands a haymaker and Mapleleaf goes flying. Kick to the gut and a hard open hand chop and Mapleleaf is leaning on the ropes grasping the red welts appearing on his chest. Whip across the ring and 'Mare connects with a massive clothesline, Mapleleaf goes head over heels. 'Mare gets up and howls like an animal.
George Cassidy: Mapleleaf is in trouble here as 'Mare heads to the apron. Top rope move? No, catapult shoulder tackle by 'Mare! He grabs Mapleleaf and throws him into a corner. Running head of steam, BAM! Huge clothesline in the corner!
Truth Waters: Mapleleaf stumbles out of the corner... 'Mare grabs him... Mountain Bomb! What power by 'Mare! He is a brawler and a powerhouse, no doubt!
George Cassidy: 'Mare drops a knee across the forehead and goes for a cover...
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Two count only.
'Mare picks him up and body slams him back down to the mat. He goes to the ropes for another knee drop... misses!
Truth Waters: SHINING WIZARD! Mapleleaf with the knee to the face! And now... La Majistral roll-up!
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: No! Kick out by 'Mare!
Truth Waters: Mapleleaf on fire all of a sudden... NAGATA LOCK!
George Cassidy: He might tap! 'Mare may just tap to the Nagata Lock!
A crooked figure four leg lock causes 'Mare to reach for the ropes and Mapleleaf to really put on the pressure. The fans want to see if Mapleleaf can make this work. 'Mare doesn't want anything to do with it. He pulls himself across the canvas little by little and then grabs the bottom rope and the ref breaks the hold.
Truth Waters: 'Mare gets out of it! But Mapleleaf is right back on him with kicks to the legs now! And a stomp to the back of the head! What we have seen here tonight and we are seeing it now... 'Mare can take a hell of a lot of punishment! Mapleleaf is all over him but he is getting to his feet!
Mapleleaf sprints to the ropes and hits a shoulder block on 'Mare, no effect. Mapleleaf won't give up and he hits the ropes again, same result. Mapleleaf goes for it one more time, and runs right into a tilt-a-whirl piledriver!
Truth Waters: Nice tilt-a-whirl driver and here’s a cover.
George Cassidy: Could this one be it?
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: That is indeed the end of it!
Truth Waters: ‘Mare with an impressive victory over the unpopular Canadian Patrick Mapleleaf in his first match.
George Cassidy: I wouldn’t say unpopular. More love-to-hate.
Truth Waters: You just plain love him, right?
James Brunt: The winner... ‘MARE!
Irishocity Renewed
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
The scene opens in the interior of a bus. Standing along in the aisle, staring straight into the camera is Paddy O’Shea. He has lifted himself off the ground by pushing up from the back supports of two seats and he now swings casually though in apparent deep thought. He seems to get a cue from someone behind the camera because he suddenly nods and straightens up, his hands clasped together in front of him.
Paddy O'Shea: Top o’ the morn t’ ye’s all. The name be Paddy O’Shea if ye didn’ know already an’ tonight, aye’m in a bus because aye have something’ very important t’ say.
O’Shea now looks grimly into the camera and sighs. He now runs a hand over his unshaven face allowing the scrapping to echo around the bus. He straightens out the creases in the white vest he wears which stand out well from his usual three quarter length khakis.
Paddy O'Shea: As ye kno’, at Testimony, Mike Wade turned on me. He claimed he was me friend an’ he threw all tha’ away jus’ like tha’. Now aye don’ kno’ why he did it, aye don’ kno’ if his mind was jus’ poisoned by tha’ cretin Face-Eater, or if he acted on his own accord. This presentation is in the hope tha’ his reason was the former – tha’ Adam Dick turned him against me. Aye say this because aye can forgive him fer tha’. This presentation is an appeal t’ him t’ end his qualms with me tha’ nearly got both o’ us killed. Aye can’t bear a grudge Mike, please don’ give me reason t’.
O’Shea runs his hand over the white interior wall of the bus, his arm hair standing ignited from the cool metallic surface. He now purposely glances a touch over the hard black plastic seats. Now he runs his hand through his hair, his eyes menacing and watchful.
Paddy O'Shea: These are the reasons Mike why ye don’ want t’ hold a grudge. This is a bus. This isn’ any old bus however, this is a London tour bus, o’ the variety tha’ was used at The Battle O’ Britain. Aye was thrown from a bus tha’ night in which aye fought four other men, anyone o’ which could have died there. Yet aye got up fer the followin’ show. Mike, ye are no’ at tha’ level nor will ye ever be. Ye cannot match me persistence nor me toughness. Ye can play yer games but when push comes t’ shove ye will be the one lyin’ on yer arse.
The anger in Paddy now subsides temporarily and he looks at the ground, overwhelmed by the power of the moment. Now, he slowly pulls up his white vest to reveal bandaged ribs.
Paddy O'Shea: This is a series of broken ribs. Aye can barely breath from them aye can tell ye. But tha’ is all aye got from a sixty-foot fall ten days ago. When me an’ you were swingin’ from tha’ suspended cage, aye seen the fear in yer eyes though aye can’t blame ye fer it. But now aye say this, with no thought of a lie… when aye began flailin’ about an’ realised me life hung in the balance, aye became alive. Ye don’ know wha’ makes me tick Mike an’ aye think ye’d step back in shock if ye ever did.
O’Shea now pulls up his trousers to reveal a three inch scar just below the kneecap, the pink flesh standing out against O’Shea’s pale complexion. O’Shea sighs once again and then stares back at the camera.
Paddy O'Shea: This is a scar aye received when aye fought in me first pay-per-view. Me and Crimson O’Malec defeated Krimzon Karnage Inc. in a Ladder match but it sure as hell took it out o’ us. Aye fell off a ladder in fact t’ get this scar it hurt like hell. Now in comparison, wha’ have you been through? Ye’ve ducked an’ dived danger since ye came here an’ yer first encounter with trouble was at Testimony. Well Wade, aye can make trouble fer ye hundred times more extreme an’ sooner rather than later ye will fall at my hands if ye back me int’ a corner.
O’Shea now begins to pace forward casually then lifts something from one of the bus seats. It is one of the Alliance title belts that O’Shea now holds out at arms length. He raises a finger to it and then pokes it.
Paddy O'Shea: This is one o’ the Alliance title belts. It a bit special here in the AWC fer one key reason though. This belt requires a team t’ win it Wade. Aye have had two o’ the most gifted partners anyone could ever ask fer. Mickey, me current partner is one o’ those men who would take a punch fer ye in the blink o’ an eye. He’s a man who wouldn’t think twice in takin’ ye down if ye ever struck me a foul blow. Aye’m thankful fer such a man by me side. You, Mike Wade, are a conniving rat an’ ye don’ have people like tha’ with ye. Instead ye have weasels tha’ step over the top o’ ye t’ get where they want t’ go.
O’Shea now lifts a calendar from the opposite seat. The page is labelled at a particular date – the first of July.
Paddy O'Shea: This is a key date. Maybe no’ fer yourself but fer me. Ye see, this was Solarized, aye was on the crest of a winnin’ spree when aye entered the ladder match fer the Alliance belts. Tha’ night, Emerald Isle became the first Alliance champions. Tha’ isn’t the special part though. The special part is the fact, tha’ despite me switchin’ partner, over one hundred days later, aye’m still holdin’ me title makin’ me the first AWC champion with a century title reign. Men have come an’ fallen at the feet o’ Eire Og. Ask yerself Mike, will ye be any different. After all, are ye really tha’ special?
O’Shea places both the belt and the calendar down gently and looks once again at the camera. He flicks his dirty fair hair away from his eyes for a second then smiles for the first time. The smile isn’t filled with laughter though, it’s on his face to send a message. He now points to himself.
Paddy O'Shea: This is a man with the two most trained fists in the AWC. This is a man tha’ never says die. Ye can put me down put aye’ll get up again an’ tha’ be a fact. Aye’ll be in a wheelchair an’ aye’ll still be tryin’ t’ bite yer ankles off. An’ this is a man who will shit fire before he ever lets someone o’ yer calibre walk over the top o’ him.
O’Shea now lifts a picture from a nearby bus seat. He holds it up to the camera revealing the face of Mike Wade.
Paddy O'Shea: And if this message isn’ heeded… this be a dead man.
Unfuckable
FEATURING: MIKE WADE, ADAM DICK
AUTHORS: JOE SCHMIDT AND MIKE WADE
“*RANDOM ENTRANCE MUSIC THAT JOE AND MIKE WILL DECIDE ON LATER*” begins to play.
Truth Waters: Who’s that?
George Cassidy: Nunno…
Truth Waters: Was that baby talk?
Saved by the bell, so to speak, any attention on Cassidy is turned towards the entrance ramp. Standing at the top, to a huge chorus of boos, is your new Relentless cha(m)p, Mike Wade, and your former Frontier champion, the newly revealed Adam Dick.
While Wade stands clad with his championship firmly around his waist, both men hold high over their heads a mask, both masks being that of The Illustrious Face-Eater when Adam Dick assumed the persona to destroy the psyche of Tim Shipley. Their grin reeks of “holier than thou” attitude, enough to make any misogynist blush.
The cacophony of the boos that echo over their music bring displeasure to them as they walk down the ramp and around the side of the ring. Adam jumps right in and holds his mask up to the face of James Brunt, before stealing his microphone.
Adam Dick: Dude, hope you don’t mind, dude, but I’m sorry about that whole thing, dude. Forgive me… dude?
Hah! James spits in the direction of Adam’s extended hand; he expected a shake. Maybe half seriously, or he wouldn’t have pre-constructed this entire plan to humiliate James Brunt in the first place. Mike Wade has snuck around to James’ back side, and now hangs off the apron from the top rope by using his weight to pull the ropes down.
Adam pushes James back towards the hole, resulting in a rather harsh and awkward fall for AWC’s relatively neutral ring announcer.
Truth Waters: That’s just cruel! That could have ended up really badly.
George Cassidy: It’s all in good fun. I hope James doesn’t puss out about it because he’s a frail ring announcer.
Truth Waters: Well he shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of stuff, he isn’t a wrestler!
George Cassidy: It comes with the territory, doll.
Truth Waters: I am going to get Juri Hyobanshi to castrate you.
George Cassidy: Come again?
Truth Waters: I’m going to get Juri –
George Cassidy: COME AGAIN!?!? Bwarahahahahrargh!
The music is all but dead and Wade now is in the ring, high-fiving his partner in completion of their prank. Adam Dick and Wade now stand tall in front of the crowd, somewhat bruised because of the battle last week. Adam’s black eyes are still swollen but not as bruised, thanks to precautionary beauty techniques, but his back is still killing him.
Mike Wade’s bruises are still there, his face a little swollen and his walk unsteady from the battle with James Varga the crap-faced-turd-boy. Most of the damage was inflicted at Testimony, however, and if you can’t recall why then you should be shot with a Colt .44 in your face. Your crappy memories would be better as an abstract painting of death on your garage wall as you realize self-sacrifice is the only way to properly express yourself because you have failed to serve the God of Wade-E-ness!
Adam takes the microphone first, having stolen it from James Brunt in their elaborate scheme, and decides to kick the speech off, old-school style.
Adam Dick: FEBRUARY NINTH, 2005. Core Wrestling presents Pride 19, before they got shitty. The Pioneers versus William Curr… and Adam Dick. It was William Curr who took that pinfall that night, not I. You see, every single show, I was wrestling in a team with that bozo. EVERY show. Whenever we would win, it was ME getting the pinfall victory. Or me making one of them submit. William was good at keeping monkeys off my back while I did the dirty work.
Adam Dick: Until they kept us separate. William wasn’t exactly the brightest, jumping into sticky situations head first. I taught him to be carefree, but he was reckless. Always the victim of double-teaming, William was the reason for EVERY LOSS we had together. Not ONCE was I pinned in a tag team match, not ONCE did I submit. I may have had a crappy record but I was still turning heads. So do I get thrown in to the Pride title mix?
Mike Wade: Nope, Tim Shipley does.
Adam Dick: You’re GOD DAMN RIGHT Tim Shipley does!
A cheer for the creatively re-dubbed “Fall’s Bitch”.
Adam Dick: Meanwhile I get shuffled in to the overflowing Classic division, and once I dethroned long-standing reigning champion Veronica Paige, the belt changes hands on a weekly basis. Yes, I am responsible for throwing that place into Limbo hell, leaving you all cock-mongers like Kingspooner and Worrell and Smiley to run around unchecked. I apologize. But you see, I had to take action.
Mike Wade: What did you do, Adam?
Adam Dick: I got better! If no one would notice me, I’d make them notice me. I started training under one of the most obscure talents in professional wrestling, Eddy Estrada, and combined it with my own unique approach to the mat and voila, The Illustrious Face-Eater was born. But you see, being Facey is more than just a persona, it is an agenda. Upon adopting that moniker, I adopted every means of contained, focused destruction. I needed to fix my anger on something or someone, and you were the easiest. Weak little Tim Shipley, ripe for the picking. So I capitalized. I worked your friends and family and I worked you so hard until you had everyone worrying for you, what is Tim Shipley gonna do to the big, bad Face-Eater? Take his Frontier title? Hah, you know I’m meant for greater things than that garbage. Have that belt, it was worth taking it off ungrateful Andy Murray. But Tim, now you can go off and play with my virtual copycat, SHOULDA-STAYED-DEAD ALISO!
Truth Waters: He STILL insists on heat-thieving.
The crowd boos the mention of Aliso, who revealed his true colours earlier.
Adam Dick: Ain’t that right, Tony? You’ve got to become my mirror image because I’ve laid all the groundwork for you, and you picked up the pieces? I may be a coward, striking from the darkness and around corners so you can’t see what’s coming, but I am also an artist. I am not a plagiarist; unlike yourself, I take pride in my work. And you aren’t going to go and tarnish the damage I’ve made on Tim Shipley because you’ve got a hard-on for revenge! I played this game first, you fucking punk. And if need be, me and Wade will go through anyone. It started with Andy Murray, when we asked him to join our outfit because we thought he would see our vision. He didn’t, and he declined, and look where he is because of it. No one wants to be there, and no one wants to stand up to us. Because, you see, Mike Wade and I now share a common agenda in the AWC, and that is to…. Umm, Mike, what’s our agenda again?
Mike Wade: It's very simple Face. You see for too long guys like myself and the Face here have stood back and watched as the same boring old guys get the opportunities handed to them by those in charge in AWC. Myself and the Face have been here for over two months now and for two months we've both watched on as guys like Paddy O Shea, Pierce Lavelle and Hate had the spotlight shining in their faces and the sun shining out of their arses. Last Sunday we both went to that ring to prove points and prove them we did. First of all Facey proved he could kick Tim Shipley around a ring and that he could rebound gloriously from defeat. I proved that I could go in there and beat people and win titles. And then together we had our greatest accomplishment. Together we destroyed the supposed "top three" in AWC in Hate, O’Shea and Lavelle. Three faceless goons with personality disorders. Hate is a dime a dozen goth-evil idiot!
Adam Dick: NO KIDDING! Talk about a freaking pussycat, that guy doesn’t even scare me! Years of being desensitized by Kane and Undertaker and George Burns and Slipknot makes me say PILLOWS to you, Mr. Fifth Horseman! What the hell are you trying to prove anyways? You SAY that you don’t believe in God, that God doesn’t exist and you are trying to hurt those that follow his teachings... yet you CLAIM you’re the Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse, a term which is loosely based on terms created in the FRICKIN’ Bible. You DO realize that your very gimmick contradicts everything you say about yourself, right? You’re just loco with a knife and like to gut kiddies and stuff, but try to make it sound all deep and intrinsic and shit. I just think you’re a boring sociopath! Yeah! A BORING one! You aren’t deep, you aren’t artistic, you’re just crazy! Which, I have to admit, is a bit more interesting than that Lavelle fellow.
Mike Wade: Lavelle… well Jesus I'm falling asleep even trying to put him into boring, boring...
Wade starts to drift off before he is shaken by Adam.
Mike Wade: See what I mean. Lavelle is BORING!
Adam Dick: Lavelle, oh boy. Where do we begin with Lavelle? Does the guy actually have any sense in him at all? He went into that match with Hate blindly and should have been destroyed. What sense he had in kicking out at that last second, was beyond me. But all three of you, you fucked it all up in the ring, and gave me the perfect opportunity to strike. You gave US the perfect opportunity to let ourselves be heard, and we stole the spotlight. We took that high-beam and we showed everyone what they wanted to see: CHAOS.
George Cassidy: That is true. They did ruin the main event last week.
Adam Dick: You see, Pierce Lavelle, you are dull. Your gimmick is that you are a wrestler and you know what, that’s a crappy gimmick to begin with. At first I toyed with you as a game for Tim Shipley, only getting a taste of what I can do to you. But you are a bigger disgrace than he was, so now I’m targeting you. Now heroics and villainy can play the game, but we all know that in the end I am going to break you Pierce. You’ve got the bullseye on your chest and there is little way for me not to hit it. Transatlantic title or not, you will be crying at my feet before we are through. Last week, when the controls to the cage went haywire, I saw you run back there. Probably to save Paddy O’Shea, but your dumb ass would no doubt have killed him and my friend in the process. I couldn’t have that. So I destroyed you, again, before you could get there. I don’t know what happened, I was too busy saving my friend here from Lavelle’s dumb ass from accidentally killing them, and instead Paddy O’Shea and the Impeccable Mike Wade fall hundreds of feet. Of course, Mike Wade landed on his feet with two bikini-bitches in his arms, while Paddy landed in the Pit from Mortal Kombat one, giving us the Fatality win! I think Mike has something to say, now. Mike, what are your thoughts on Paddy O’Shea?
Mike Wade: Well he's the biggest crime of them all. An Irishman playing up to the fact that he's a pikey and entertaining all these biggots with his tripe. You would never see me disgrace my country with hideous stereotypes! Hanging around with plastic Paddys like Crimson O’Malec and The Farmer.
Truth Waters: O’Malec’s long gone… if that’s all Wade can think of, then –
George Cassidy: Shush.
Mike Wade: If only you had listened to the latter Paddy you wouldn't be lying in a hospital somewhere courtesy of His Swerviness. But Paddy O’Shea vs Mike Wade is for another day. In fact The Farmer AND Paddy O’Shea are for another day!
Adam chimes in.
Adam Dick: Whatever could you mean Mike?
Mike Wade: It's very simple Adam. I won gold last week and now I've got a taste for more as I'm sure you do. So I'm laying down a challenge on behalf of us to the Alliance champions, whomever they may be after tonight. We want those belts, they're first on the agenda, it's time that the Unfuckables added some respect to those titles, oh and by the way we are exactly just that... UNFUCKABLE!
The random entrance music plays again, as the two leave rather suddenly to a chorus of boos.
Alcaeus vs John Edwards
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: JONATHAN
In the arena, the crowd is restless. The first Fresh! after Testimony, and the fans are looking forward to revelations and some good fast paced action tonight. Signs are swinging in the audience, each saluting their favoured superstar. A few of the fans have on Hate masks, and a few Face-Eater masks… as they pay tribute to the AWC superstars scheduled to be here tonight. The camera turns to ringside, where the commentary team are preparing to give live feedback on the following match. The large frame of Truth Waters seems to dominate the announce table area, but it’s George Cassidy who opens his mouth first.
George Cassidy: Thank God that’s over…
Truth turns to look at his co-commentator, and returns his gaze to the camera.
Truth Waters: What Cassidy meant to say… is welcome back to Atlantic Wrestling Club’s Fresh!
George Cassidy: No I didn’t…
Truth Waters ignores his colleague’s comments, and carries on hyping the show.
Truth Waters: Coming off the back of a ground breaking pay-per-view in Testimony, the Atlantic Wrestling Club seems to go from strength to strength. This week, the spotlight is going to be on the Alliance Division, as we are going to witness Emerald Isle II defend their titles against TTS!
George Cassidy: Oh joy…
Truth Waters: This past Sunday, at Testimony, the fans anxiously waited to see what the outcome of the Alliance championship match would be. However, they were forced to wait till tonight. The Irish duo, defending their titles against the Londoners… should be a great match!
George Cassidy: If those Brits can be bothered to get out of bed this morning… then it could be.
Truth snarls at his colleague, and sets his eyes back on the camera.
Truth Waters: But, coming up before we go to the Alliance title match, we have for you a singles match. And, it’s a strange one. It’s going to be John Edwards, former PRIME Alias champ, taking on yet another newcomer… get this… a twenty five hundred year old vampire!
George Cassidy: Kids will believe anything these days.
Truth Waters: Alcaeus is an impressive looking fellow, as we first saw him at Testimony… 6’9” I believe, and two hundred and eighty five pounds. He certainly has the size advantage over Edwards, but Edwards has the experience.
George Cassidy: What? I thought you said this guy was twenty five hundred years old? If that’s not experience, then…
Truth Waters: Wrestling experience. So, what will play the most important factor in this match? Size, or experience? Only one way to find out… and one place… AWC! Let’s join James Brunt in the ring.
The camera shifts over to the ring, where ring announcer James Brunt is standing, mic in hand, ready to address the crowd in the eight thousand capacity Ford Arena. He raises the mic, kicking off the introductions to the crowd.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, weighing in at 235 pounds… JOHN “MORALESS” EDWARDS!
“Chop Suey” by System of a Down hits the PA system, as the lights dim, ready for Edwards’ arrival. Moraless appears from backstage, making his way down to the ring in his in-ring gear. A mixture of cheers and uncertainty greet The Lone Assassin, as he steps up onto the ring apron, and through the ropes into the ring. He acknowledges the fans with a raised arm, before strutting to the corner, and stretching off for the following match.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Ancient Apollonia, weighing in at 285 pounds... ANACLETUS ALCAEUS!
The lights go out, as silence and darkness blanket the arena. A murmur escapes the crowd, they have no idea what to expect. The silence and darkness continue, and the murmur becomes a debate, and a confused din. Suddenly, the PA system comes to life with the Cello Introduction of “Forsaken” by Jonathan Davis. The entrance way flares up with white pyro, and from the back, a man dressed in a long flowing dark robe appears. A hood obscures his face, as he makes his way towards the ring, not acknowledging the fans, or anything else in the arena. The lights slowly come back on, as the drum line into the chorus erupts.
You see I cannot be forsaken;
Because I’m not the only one.
We walk amongst you, feeding raping;
Why must we hide from everyone?
Alcaeus steps onto the apron via the ring steps, and into the ring. He looks over at John Edwards in the ring, and slowly lifts his hood, revealing the face of a man in his early thirties, unblemished… almost marble-like skin, and prominent features. He removes his robe, and places it down at ringside. The music dissipates, and Alcaeus returns to the ring.
Referee Joseph Reid calls the two competitors to the middle of the ring, where he proceeds to explain the rules and regulations of the following match up. James Brunt exits the match, to the relative safety of the outside.
Truth Waters: Well, this one is about to kick off… but just look at that size difference! Alcaeus simply towers over The One Warrior!
George Cassidy: Yes, but Waters, as your wife must tell you regularly, size isn’t everything!
Truth Waters: Evidently, your wife didn’t agree with that one, hey George?
The gruff response from Waters provokes a growl from Cassidy, and a minor exchange is heard. Momentarily, order is restored, and Truth Waters is heard chuckling over the headset.
Truth Waters: To the ring, this one’s starting off…
The ring bell sounds, as the referee backs away from both men. Edwards begins to circle the ring, sizing up his larger opponent, while Alcaeus regards him, prepping himself for action. The two continue their proverbial dance around the ring, before Edwards makes the first move. He comes at Alcaeus, who tries for a right hand, but the smaller man ducks the right fist of Alcaeus, and hooks an elbow into the lower back of the Ancient Greek Vampire. Edwards raises his arms to the fans, in an almost contemptuous confidence.
George Cassidy: He still thinks those drugs are working!
Truth Waters: You never know, maybe they are…
In the ring, Edwards again circles Alcaeus, who stands at the ready, both arms out, as if he’s trying to catch a fast moving animal. Edwards comes at Alcaeus again, and this time dodges to the left, and hits a quick kick to the back of the knee, sending Alcaeus to one knee. He quickly recovers, standing and facing Edwards, who has a cocky smile on his face. Edwards approaches Alcaeus again, this time less cautiously. He attempts a kick to the gut, but Alcaeus catches the foot of Moraless. Edwards though, manages an enzeguri kick to the head of Alcaeus, sending him down to one knee. Before he has a time to adjust himself, Edwards runs at Alcaeus, hitting a powerful knee to the face, sending Alcaeus onto both knees. Edwards turns, and runs, hitting a dropkick to the back of the head, and Alcaeus is down on his belly!
Truth Waters: There’s that experience… take the big man off his feet, and take away that height advantage!
George Cassidy: He’ll have to take advantage though.
Edwards does just that, dropping an elbow on the back of Alcaeus’ neck. He lays on the neck, hooking it into a headlock on the mat, applying further pressure to the head. Alcaeus flails about, trying to get to his feet, but Edwards uses the ropes for leverage. The referee spots it, and Edwards breaks the hold. He backs off, and gets to his feet, a cheeky smile on his face, as his arms rise in appreciation. Alcaeus gets to his feet also, and stares a hole through Edwards. Moraless invites Alcaeus to go for him, pulling his finger back in an inviting gesture. Alcaeus takes the gesture, and runs at Edwards. The One Warrior ducks, but as he turns, is floored with a powerful clothesline!
Truth Waters: And that’s an example of where taking drugs will get you kids!
George Cassidy: What the hell are you talking about?
Alcaeus proceeds to stomp on the back of Edwards, who manages to pull himself up on the ropes. Alcaeus grabs Edwards by the head, and pulls him into an abdominal stretch. Edwards is able to manoeuvre himself out of it though, and turns into a kick to the ribs, followed by a right fist to the upper chest of Alcaeus. He backs off, raising his hands, to prove to the fans he’s unscathed. Alcaeus turns, and comes off the ropes. Edwards is able to duck an oncoming clothesline, and manages to hit a snapmare on the return, followed by a dropkick to the back of the head of the large man (vampire?). He runs at Alcaeus, dropping an elbow onto the chest, and grabbing the arm, stretching it out in an armbar. Alcaeus yells out in pain, as he slams the mat with his free hand. Edwards keeps the hold on though for another few moments, before releasing and rolling over to take the right leg of Alcaeus into a leg lock. He applies further pressure on the leg, and Alcaeus tries to make it to his knee, but Edwards has the leverage. Alcaeus finally manages to turn around, and boots Edwards in the face, forcing him off the lock. Both men rise to their feet, and Alcaeus shakes his leg. They circle once again, and this time lock up. Alcaeus powers Edwards to the corner, and pushes against him. The referee comes over and breaks it up, and Edwards comes out of the corner. The two lock up again, and Alcaeus once more forces Edwards into the corner. This time, he follows up with a few rights to the head of Edwards, and a kick to the gut. He then applies some shoulder thrusts into the mid section, before whipping Edwards to the opposing corner. Alcaeus charges, but Edwards has the wits enough to escape the ring, leaving Alcaeus frustrated. John Edwards catches his breath on the outside, before sizing up the best re entry point to the ring.
Truth Waters: Good ring presence there by Moraless. He’s out-thinking the rookie in the ring.
Edwards decides not to enter the ring, and instead invites Alcaeus to the outside. Alcaeus reciprocates, sliding out, and gets a flurry of rights for his efforts. Edwards whips Alcaeus into the barricade, and opens up with boots to the mid section, sending Alcaeus down on the barricade. Edwards backs up, and hits a running boot to the face, and Alcaeus is down on the outside.
Truth Waters: Again, the experience of Edwards showing through.
George Cassidy: Whatever, this match needs to speed up…I’m in danger of dreaming about my ex-wife again…
Edwards, as if hearing the commentary, lifts Alcaeus by the head, and rolls him into the ring. He gets onto the apron, and flips over, landing a leg drop onto the throat of the ageing vampire. Edwards quickly takes advantage of Alcaeus’ leg again, hooking in a lock, pushing his knee into the back of Alcaeus’ right knee. He pulls the leg back, but Alcaeus manages to grab the ropes. Edwards breaks the hold, and boots Alcaeus in the arms, breaking his hold of the ropes. He drags Alcaeus to the middle of the ring, and locks in a rolling leg-hold, isolating Alcaeus in the centre of the ring. He gets into a standing position, and tries to step over the leg, perhaps looking for a sharpshooter manoeuvre. Alcaeus manages to push Edwards off with his feet though, and Moraless falls to the mat.
Truth Waters: The power of Alcaeus showing through there.
Alcaeus stumbles to his feet, Edwards’ attentions to his right leg starting to show through. Edwards gets to his feet, and looks to keep the momentum up, charging Alcaeus, but the bigger man hits a boot to the face, knocking Edwards off his feet with force! Alcaeus takes a moment’s breather, but then follows up, lifting John Edwards to his feet. He lays some rights, pushing Edwards into the corner. He puts a few boots to Edwards, and then hip tosses him half way across the ring! Alcaeus comes out, and grabs the head of Edwards. He launches him into a vertical suplex, and connects! He lifts Edwards again, and this time hits a neckbreaker on Moraless. Edwards seems to crawl back, and looks stunned. He looks around him, then at Alcaeus. He feels his neck, as if really surprised to have been hurt. Edwards struggles to his feet, and charges Alcaeus. The big man manages to connect with a tilt-a-whirl slam though, and Edwards is smashed to the mat! Alcaeus covers, and Reid rushes over…
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout.
Alcaeus gets to his feet, and lifts Edwards up. He whips him to the ropes, and hits a spinebuster in the centre of the ring. Alcaeus gets on the second rope, and comes off with an inverted elbow onto the chest of Edwards.
Truth Waters: I think Edwards is just coming to the realisation of an old Verve song… “The Drugs Don’t Work”!
George Cassidy: That was almost witty…
Alcaeus lifts John Edwards to his feet, and nails a powerslam. He hooks the leg again…
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout again.
Edwards rolls out of the ring, trying to recuperate. He slumps against the ring apron, but Alcaeus runs up and nails a baseball slide into the back of Edwards’ head. He stands in the ring, and raises his arms, staring down at Edwards, who lays face first on the outside. The crowd reciprocates with cheers, and Alcaeus stands in the ring…
Truth Waters: He should capitalise on the momentum here…
Edwards manages to get to his knees, shaking off the assault, before rising to his feet. He slides into the ring, and Alcaeus charges with a big boot. Edwards ducks, and hits a dropkick to the outstretched leg which has landed on the ropes. Alcaeus falls to the mat, collapsing.
George Cassidy: Wow! That looked painful!
Edwards beats on the right leg of Alcaeus, putting it on the second rope, and pressing down on it with his knee. He boots it a few times, before jumping off of the ropes onto the leg. He drags Alcaeus by the leg to the centre of the ring, and twists it into a standing leg lock. He pulls the ankle back as hard as he can, frustrated somewhat. The referee checks on Alcaeus, who is holding his head. Edwards finally breaks the hold, and crashes down on the leg with an elbow drop. He follows with boots to the knee, and another elbow drop. He pulls the leg back, and wraps his own legs around it, yanking it back and forth. Alcaeus roars in pain, but is able to turn the move over, and Edwards rolls off. He rolls into standing position though, and runs through, connecting with a quick spinning neckbreaker. He grabs the legs, and flips over, in a pinning manoeuvre.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout.
Truth Waters: John Edwards not quite getting three.
Alcaeus powers out, and struggles to his feet. Edwards capitalises though, and lays some rights into the head of Alcaeus. He whips him to the ropes, and hits a dropkick to the knee, flooring the vampire. He applies an ankle lock, all the while booting the upper leg of Alcaeus. He drags him into the centre of the ring, and goes for a Boston crab. Alcaeus is able to push out of it though, but the damage is done. Alcaeus limps to the corner, and Edwards strategises.
Truth Waters: Some good tactics here by John Edwards… he’s trying to isolate Alcaeus here.
Edwards tests the waters with a right slap. He does it again, and a third time. He then comes off with a running armbar takedown. Edwards then runs up top, and as Alcaeus rises, Edwards comes off the top rope with a dropkick to the back of the knees! Alcaeus falls in agony! Edwards covers quickly.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Alcaeus kicks out.
Edwards looks frustrated, and puts the boots to the knee of Alcaeus. The fallen man though, manages to grab Edwards’ boot, and pulls him back, sending him right over the ropes with a force! Edwards collapses on the outside, as Alcaeus struggles to catch his breath, and cradles his knee. He sits in the corner, recovering, as Edwards slowly gets up on the outside. He slides into the ring, and runs at Alcaeus. Alcaeus though, with an amazing burst of speed, jumps to his feet, and hit a sidewalk slam! Both men are on the mat, and the referee begins a ten count…
ONE! TWO! THREE!
Alcaeus starts to rise to his knees.
FOUR! FIVE!
Edwards is raising himself on the ropes.
SIX! SEVEN!
Alcaeus is up.
EIGHT!
Edwards is up, and the referee stops the count. Edwards stalks Alcaeus, and the two tie up. Alcaeus manages a back elbow to the gut, followed by a hard vertical suplex to the mat. He follows up on the momentum, lifting Edwards. He hits him with a short arm clothesline, and looks at the fans, with a grin on his face. Alcaeus lifts Edwards, and whips him to the ropes, on his return, Alcaeus slaps his hand into the face of Edwards, and rears his head down, as if biting Edwards’ neck!
Truth Waters: The Preternator! The Preternator! Alcaeus’ trademark manoeuvre!
Edwards struggles against the hold, but Alcaeus has both arms locked in, and Edwards slowly stops struggling. He falls to his knees, and then Alcaeus pushes him onto his back. The referee comes over, checking on Edwards. He raises the arm once… it falls to the mat. Twice…it falls to the mat. Thrice…and the match is over!
The referee calls for the bell, and Alcaeus has won this one on his debut with the Atlantic Wrestling Club!
Truth Waters: The two and a half thousand year old vampire picks up an impressive debut victory over John Edwards!
George Cassidy: That looked painful…
Alcaeus stands in the ring, both arms raised high, as Edwards lays motionless in the ring. “Forsaken” hits, and Alcaeus leaves the ring to a mixed reaction.
Just Incredible
FEATURING: JOHNNY NOBLE, DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: CONRAD MACINTYRE
Johnny Noble: What do you MEAN you never heard of me?!
A voice bellows through the cold brick hallways of the Ford Arena. Clearly things have suddenly taken a turn for the worse. Inside the office of the man known as Pearl stands a giant, hulking man who has both hands on the administrator’s desk, leaning over it menacingly.
Pearl: Um, listen, there needn’t be any violence here.
Johnny Noble: Violence!? No way, dude! I’m gonna tell you a story.
Pearl breathes a sigh of relief.
Johnny Noble: About violence!
Maybe not… Pearl sits back in his chair rather uncomfortably as the huge man leans in further.
Johnny Noble: It was 1985. The Puyallup Fair was in town and the WFA was commissioned to put together a show for the event. I was Main Eventing and –
Pearl: Mr… uh… Noble? I really should –
Johnny Noble: LISTEN UP!
The big man is proving to be very persuasive.
Pearl: I really should listen up.
Johnny Noble: Where was I? Oh yes, and 40,000 people came out to see me. I’m a draw, brother! You can let a most excellent opportunity like this simply pass you by, dude!
Pearl: Our roster simply has no room, Mr. Noble, and besides –
Joseph Reid: I’ll be damned!
Referee Joseph Reid stands in the doorway of Pearl’s office looking at the sight before him as Noble and Pearl turn to see who made the exclamation.
Joseph Reid: It’s Mr. In-fuc –
Noble’s IncrediSenses were tingling… a profanity was fast approaching. Time to intervene and protect the ears of any of the IncrediBuddies that may be listening in!
Johnny Noble: Woah, woah, dude! Watch that mouth of yours or I’ll have to wash it out with soap!
Joseph Reid: I can’t believe it! I was one of your IncrediBuddies when I was just a kid! I remember this show in Washington when I was about 10.
Pearl: The Puyallup Fair?
Noble & Reid: Yeah!
Pearl sighs and opens his desk as Noble and Reid talk in the doorway.
Pearl: Here’s a conditional contract, I’ll put you on the card for next week. If you’re all that you say you are we’ll talk about something more permanent when this one expires after the next pay-per-view... Triangles... on Remembrance Day.
Noble turns ‘round and signs the contract without reading one line of it, then turns back to Reid and the two leave down the hallway together.
Pearl: This’ll be… interesting.
Triangles
FEATURING: n/a
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Suddenly, the screen goes to black. A good five seconds of silence, and the pitch black makes us at home all think that something’s gone wrong with the transmission. But it isn’t the case as a golden shape slowly fades into view – a golden triangle. And then the white text beneath it:
The angles of a triangle add up to 180º.
AWC flips 180º. TRIANGLES. November 11th.
Emerald Isle II (C) vs T.T.S.
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Truth Waters: Now it’s time for our main event. Following the events of Testimony Paddy O’Shea fell approximately sixty feet gripping the steel cage he was suspended from. All because of Mike Wade and that sicko Hate.
George Cassidy: No bias here Truth please... ahem... I hope Emerald Isle II loses!
Truth Waters: Well tonight, a patched-up Paddy fights along with The Farmer to defend their Alliance titles. It’s been over one hundred days, as Paddy pointed out earlier in the programme, since he and Crimson O’Malec captured the titles and since then Mickey Fitz-McCarthy has proved quite the able replacement for the AWOL superstar. Tonight they face T.T.S. a team that have really shone since coming to the AWC and are currently undefeated, except a singles match Harry lost when forced to fight on his own. This match was postponed from Testimony because of Paddy O’Shea’s no-show but I’m sure not sure what the reason is.
George Cassidy: O’Shea is Irish, he puts beer before work now let’s fire his ass!
Truth Waters: Er… over to Brunty.
The camera zooms around from the commentary team to the AWC’s very own James Brunt who is looking as ludicrous as ever in his funky purple striped suit.
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match for the Alliance championship! Introducing first, from London, England, at a combined weight of 450 pounds…
The crowd begin to boo and hiss as the challengers appear at the top of the ramp way to the theme of ‘Get A Move On’ by Mr Scruff.
James Brunt: …Harry and John… T… T… S!
Harry and John make their way to the ring, casually waving to the jeering crowd. Harry hands John a cup who ducks into his bottom attire. The crowd whistle at them but they ignore the taunts.
Truth Waters: One cup for one team? Hm. They may have problems tonight especially since a huge proportion of the Emerald Isle movelist consists of shots to the lower regions.
George Cassidy: Jokers. In the main event. I need a new job.
Suddenly the duo is interrupted as ‘You’ll Never Beat The Irish’ cuts over the top of T.T.S.’s music. And their reaction isn’t the most forgiving as they question the referee. However their quarrelling is being drowned out by the cheer of the crowd who go ballistic when Emerald Isle II emerge from behind the curtains.
Truth Waters: I think the crowd have picked sides.
George Cassidy: What makes you think that?
Truth Waters: The cheers for a start…
George Cassidy: Pick up on my sarcasm Truth, it’ll make a better man.
James Brunt: And the champions, from Dowra, Co. Leitrim, Ireland and Galway, Ireland respectively, at a combined weight of 413 pounds...
Paddy and Mickey stand on top of the ramp and survey the crowd with a smile. It’s been a while since they teamed up but by their reaction, it sure as hell is nice to work together again. The two walk to the ring side by side, their Alliance belts adorned on their waists. However O’Shea is heavily bandaged around his ribs and he grimaces as he walks down.
Truth Waters: I’m surprised O’Shea is even standing after Testimony yet he stands here tonight.
George Cassidy: It’s all part of Pearl’s strategy to kill the roster off. I’m in favour of such a policy in this case anyway.
Truth Waters: CASSIDY!
George Cassidy: Oh come on! The place would smell better!
O’Shea and Mickey pass a quick word between them as they eyeball their opponents.
James Brunt: Mickey Fitz-McCarthy and Paddy O’Shea… EMERALD ISLE TWO!
Truth Waters: This is going to be a big match. The reigning champions against the undefeated T.T.S.. Who will win? We’re about to find out!
George Cassidy: Oh my God Truth, that was the cheesiest introducing to a match ever. You should be ashamed of yourself.
Truth Waters: But I –
George Cassidy: Silence! The George has spoken!
The champions now walk off the ramp; have a quick word once again then dive into the ring, their belts falling to the ground. They immediately rush to the unaware opponents and begin throwing straight punches to the head.
George Cassidy: Cheaters! GodDAMN Irish!
Paddy O’Shea clotheslines Harry to the outside over the top rope while the referee tries to control the situation by forcing The Farmer to exit the ring. Mickey eventually obliges leaving John and Paddy in the ring. The two move into the centre as the bell rings to start the match. The two lock up and struggle about for a few seconds before John kicks Paddy in the injured ribs causing him to double over. John grabs Paddy in a headlock but O’Shea easily pushes him off him and into the ropes. John comes back and manages to duck a clothesline, stop in his tracks then club Paddy in the back of the head.
Truth Waters: Nice pace to this match so far. John is showing exactly why his team are a force to be reckoned with right from the off.
George Cassidy: Really? I haven’t seen a decent move to this match so far therefore I beg to differ.
Truth Waters: Well watch this George!
John drags O’Shea over to the T.T.S. corner and he makes the tag handing the cup as he does so. Harry stuffs it quickly into his tights then enters the ring and the two begin simultaneously stomping a hole in the Irishman, focusing strategically on his injured midsection. The referee quickly forces John out of the ring. Harry bends down to pull Paddy to his feet but instead he gets a thumb to the eye and a shift kick to the groin, which the cup protects, much to annoyance of the crowd. Paddy springs to his feet but is quickly yanked back to the mat by John on the outside.
George Cassidy: Idiot…
Paddy is still lying on the mat as Harry gets to his feet. He drops an elbow on Paddy before pulling him to his feet. Once on his feet, he hits O’Shea with his elbow twice and then throws him into the ropes. On his return, Harry catches him with a knee to the gut causing Paddy to flip onto his back and begin writhing in pain on the mat. Mickey in the corner is screaming support for his partner.
Truth Waters: Ouch! That didn’t look healthy. And Mickey is just dying for the tag!
George Cassidy: He should just walk out now because the way T.T.S. is going so early on, they won’t be able to lose.
Harry gives his partner a high five and then turns back to O’Shea. However he’s soon seeing stars when Paddy wallops him with a rising uppercut that seems to lift Harry off the ground.
Truth Waters: What were you saying George? Those trained fists pulling O’Shea out of that predicament right there folks.
The crowd are now cheering as Paddy begins to stroll over to his corner. However the intended tag is shattered when John rushes into the ring and dropkicks Paddy in the back. The referee tries to push John back but when he sees The Farmer entering he turns to him instead. With the referee distracted, John pulls O’Shea back into the T.T.S. corner.
Truth Waters: The Trendy Twenty Somethings certainly matching the Irishmen in terms of sneakiness tonight.
George Cassidy: Maybe those damn immigrants will realise what comes around goes around.
With the referee still distracted, Harry gets up and holds O’Shea down as John climbs his own turnbuckle and dives off with a body splash. He connects with the bandaged midsection of Paddy who rolls around screaming in pain. John laughs at this reaction and quickly slides out of the ring as Mickey finally exits himself.
Truth Waters: Okay, now that’s something Emerald Isle wouldn’t do!
George Cassidy: Oh come on Truth, they’re just raising the bar, so go with flow, know what I mean coco bean?
Truth Waters: …you scare me with your artificial urban slang.
Harry quickly jumps on top of Paddy for the cover. With the referee sure Mickey is to outside the ring, he begins a count.
ONE!
TWO
THR-
Kickout!
Harry looks at John a little confused, then shrugs and goes over to make another tag in, handing that increasingly sweaty cup as he does so.
Truth Waters: Good tactic there by T.T.S. it has to be said who are keeping each other fresh by tagging in regularly.
George Cassidy: I’ll tell you one thing that isn’t fresh! That goddamn jockstrap. Euch!
An eager John runs off the ropes and hits a leg drop on Paddy. John then pulls O’Shea to his feet but Paddy manages to grab hold of John’s midsection and deliver an overhead suplex. This leaves both men lying on their backs in the middle of the ring. Paddy is the first to react and he slowly gets to his feet and begins to stumble over to his corner to make the tag. John however grabs a hold of Paddy’s foot and holds firm, just before Mickey is in reaching distance of the tag. John gets to his feet, still holding the foot. Paddy turns around and plants him with a perfect inzaguri then reaches up and tags Mickey Fitz in!
Truth Waters: Wow! That was a nice reversal from a brawler.
George Cassidy: Humph.
The Farmer runs into the ring and nails John with a massive spear who had just returned to his feet. He then runs to the other corner and knees Harry in the face as he began climbing through the ropes. The Farmer runs back over to John who is once again on his feet and hits a running DDT. Harry slides back into the ring as a re-energised O’Shea gets to his feet. Harry runs towards O’Shea but Paddy ducks, bounces off the ropes and delivers the dirty tricks – a number of swift jabs then a hefty kick to the groin! Harry falls to the floor in pain. Now the Farmer bounces off the far rope and nails The Harvest!
Truth Waters: THE FARMER HITS THE HARVEST… AND HARRY IS OUT FOR THE COUNT!
George Cassidy: Wrestling as we know it will end if these inbreds win goddamnit!
O’Shea exits the ring and Farmer falls to his knees and covers Harry, however the ref refuses to call the count claiming Harry isn’t the legal man!
George Cassidy: Ha! Trust moron two to get it wrong.
The Farmer shrugs and pulls John to his feet John to his feet and puts him straight back down with a vicious spine buster. The Farmer tags O’Shea back in who climbs the nearest turnbuckle quickly yet lingers to revel in the cheers of the crowd. This proves to be a mistake as Harry suddenly appears behind him and throws him off the turnbuckle. O’Shea lands hard on his back.
George Cassidy: That’s it lads. Beat the jobber champions and get the hell out of here!
Truth Waters: Memories of Testimony perhaps there folks.
O’Shea winces and holds his back but manages to get on his feet. John however grabs O’Shea around the throat and head butts him viciously then throws him off the ropes. O’Shea ducks the first clothesline but on his return, he swings one himself as John tries another. Both men feel the impact and they both hit the mat.
Truth Waters: The race is on! Both men need to make this tag!
John crawls over to his corner first and tags Harry in. Once in the ring John puts his hands down his tights to retrieve the solitary cup. However, O’Shea has just tagged The Farmer in and he runs over, levels Harry then grabs the sweaty cup from John’s hands.
Truth Waters: Euh!
George Cassidy: Indeed!
John tries a haymaker but the large agile Mickey ducks it easily then sticks the cup into John’s face in a modified mandible claw!
Truth Waters: EUH!
George Cassidy: INDEED!
John struggles for a few seconds then passes out on the mat. The Farmer shepherds him to the outside. He turns back to Harry who has just got to his feet and The Farmer kicks him between the legs – once again Harry being caught without the cup. Harry struggles to stay on his feet but a further vicious Harvest puts Harry down for good.
Truth Waters: This will be all she wrote now for sure!
George Cassidy: PIN JOHN! HE’S THE LEGAL MAN!
Mickey falls onto his knees and makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Farmer is suddenly pulled out of the ring by Mike Wade!
Truth Waters: Where the hell?
George Cassidy: Wade! Saviour of the Alliance titles!
Mike Wade runs away before The Farmer can grab him and runs up to the top of the ramp. The injured O’Shea tries to make a move but finds running impossible. The referee has had enough in this match and calls the bell.
Truth Waters: The referee has ended the match! He’s had enough.
George Cassidy: Goddamn cheaters! They stole it, stole, stole, stole it!
Truth Waters: Here you go George, you dropped this..
George Cassidy: Dropped what?
Truth Waters: The toys you just threw out of your pram! AHAHAHAHA!
George Cassidy: Finished?
Truth Waters: AHAHA. Now I’m done.
James Brunt hands the Alliance titles to Emerald Isle II but they don’t bother to loft them in the air. Instead they stare up at the figure on the stage! O’Shea runs over to the ropes and beckons to the turncoat himself to come to the ring to fight. The Farmer standing beside him, a man who never trusted Wade begins shouting his own derogatory comments. Mike Wade begins strolling to the ring nonetheless.
Truth Waters: Are my eyes deceiving me or is Wade going to take on TWO men?
O’Shea and The Farmer stand primed in the ring for Wade’s entry. Suddenly Mickey steps back away from O’Shea and lowers his fists. Wade’s grin now widens and he points over the shoulder of O’Shea. Paddy looks around confused but he only gets a flash of a glance of Mickey’s right fist pounding into his nose before he’s seeing stars. Now Mike Wade slides in.
Truth Waters: NO! MICKEY! WHAT THE HELL’S HE DOING!
George Cassidy: HAHAHA! THE IRISH TWAT HAS SEEN THE LIGHT!
The Farmer and Mike Wade begin stomping on O’Shea’s face until the wounds from Testimony begin to open again. Now they jump on his bandaged ribs as he screams in pain. Mickey shouts something to Mike who exits the ring quickly.
Truth Waters: Please tell me this is over!
But it isn’t. Wade re-enters with a chair now and Mickey frantically pulls it from him then slams it over his skull – O’Shea goes limp. Mickey isn’t finished yet, his demonic face screwing up. He clamps the chair over O’Shea’s leg then climbs the turnbuckle as Wade continues stomping.
Truth Waters: Please Mickey no!
Truth’s shouts fall on deaf ears. He jumps off and stomps the chair contorting O’Shea’s ankle horribly. O’Shea, who has passed out from the pain simply lies there. It isn’t over just yet however. Now Wade clamps the chair down over his face, making The Farmer look slightly alarmed. Wade walks over to the top rope then freezes as he sees something make a wave through the crowd. Wade turns to The Farmer who seems to have seen the same thing and they back away ever so slightly. Now a figure dives over the barrier and slides into the ring with a mini baseball bat, running to O’Shea’s aid.
Truth Waters: CRIMSON O’MALEC! HE’S BACK! THE REAL OTHER ALLIANCE CHAMPION DEFENDING HIS PARTNER!
George Cassidy: Damn it!
Mickey and Mike Wade dive out of the ring as O’Malec runs to meet them then stops himself at the ropes and begins screaming at Mickey and Wade. Both of the sinister duo are now beaming from ear to ear. Crimson is looking at something in particular however… the other Alliance title hanging over The Farmer’s shoulder!
Truth Waters: O’Malec is livid! He wants that title back but Mickey isn’t looking in the parting mood! Oh my God, there’s going to be trouble come next week!
George Cassidy: Allegiances created and destroyed as Mike Wade has another ally!
Truth Waters: The whole of Ireland has… divided!
O’Malec continues to stare the two former Eire Og members down as the show closes.