Fresh! Results12th July 2005
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHORS: DAVE LARKIN AND 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
The new Transatlantic Champion Pierce Lavelle is shown collapsing into the arms of Senior Referee Michael Ryan as he is handed the title following the Inferno match at Solarized. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC superstars in action are shown: The Educator, Ellis Nash, Drake Coleman.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from recent shows flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Gabriel hitting Satan’s Wish on The Farmer last week; Krimzon jumping ladders and inadvertently crushing his partner The Educator between a ladder and a table, the table breaking, at Solarized; UWF North American champion James Varga emerging from the entrance-way seven days ago on Fresh!.
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
Truth Waters: BANG! BANG! BANG!
George Cassidy: On the door, baby!
Truth Waters: Listen to those pyros!
George Cassidy: Listen to those fans!
Truth Waters: Honduras is singing out! Fresh! is live from the Gimnasio Municipal in San Pedro Sula, and the crowd are absolutely HYPED about tonight’s show.
George Cassidy: Actually, those horny sons-of-bitches are just hyped about seeing Ellis Nash in the main event. Can’t they stick to Maddy Estelle? Ellis is mine.
Truth Waters: Haven’t you got a marriage to save or something?
George Cassidy: Not cool, Truth.
Truth Waters: So what’ve we got tonight?
George Cassidy: We’ve got my favourite superstars duking it out together in the main event. Last time Alex Strider met Ellis Nash, he didn’t want to hit a girl, but he still managed to pull out the win – just. Things might be different now that a Transatlantic title shot is on the line, though! Strider will be desperate to get back the belt that is rightfully his.
Truth Waters: The winner of that match takes on Pierce Lavelle for the championship in fourteen days’ time. Other highlights of tonight will be Tim Shipley’s first AWC match; we’ll be seeing if he can handle the challenge of Void. Another debutant is the well-known Kuff McSlade – one of my favourite wrestlers. I’m so pleased AWC have seen sense and signed The Mecca. He is one to watch.
George Cassidy: He’s got one tough first assignment, though – Hate is his opponent. How could you be any harsher on someone in their first match?
Truth Waters: That’s sure to be a great match. Now, Kris Krimzon and Jonny Sake have something of a strange relationship.
George Cassidy: I’ll say. That big retard Sake looks up to Krimzon as a mentor – I mean, how screwed up is that?
Truth Waters: They’ll be teaming up against the motley duo of Drake Coleman and Eddie Sanders.
George Cassidy: Don’t even get me onto Coleman. I recently found out he is sixty years old! That’s even older than Pact!
Truth Waters: It’ll be interesting to see how he copes in AWC – he must be in intense pain the entire time. I’ve heard rumours about what is beneath those bandages, and it isn’t pretty.
George Cassidy: Our first match of the night, though, is the one that was made by Pearl as a result of The Educator justly being last week’s Fresh!man.
Truth Waters: I wonder if Harber would still have given him that award after seeing him steal the Frontier and Livewire title belts, though.
George Cassidy: Oh, just TRY and tell me he doesn’t deserve them.
Truth Waters: OK, I will –
The King Of Hardcore?
FEATURING: THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: LEON CRUISEY
"School Of Hard Knocks" by POD begins to play over the PA system and every head in the arena turns towards the entrance.
George Cassidy: Too late! He’s going to tell us for himself.
The boos and jeers from the audience increase in volume as more and more of the fans begin to realise who is making their entrance. The self proclaimed "Smartest Man In Sports Entertainment", The Educator.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring... THE EDUCATOR!
George Cassidy: The Educator is starting us off – the reigning Fresh!man and new double champion!
Truth Waters: Oh Lord…
Nothing happens for a few moments and the fans begin to wonder what’s happened and if a mistake has been made. Then all of a sudden, The Educator makes his way out from the back. He's wearing his trademark glasses and black suit and he has the largest smile possible stretched across his face. As the camera moves down, we can see why, and the amount of boos increase once again.
The Frontier and Livewire titles are around The Educator's waist.
The Educator begins to walk towards the ring with one hand holding a microphone and the other hand waving and blowing kisses to the fans hurling abuse at him. As The Educator enters the ring he gives James Brunt a little finger wag.
The Educator: Now now Mr. Brunt. Everyone in this arena knows you made a mistake.
James Brunt, confused and amazed that he has been addressed, puts his microphone to his mouth.
James Brunt: Wha – what was that?
The Educator: These belts you see here.
James Brunt: ...Yes...what about them?
The Educator: Oh I'm sorry, I was under the impression that you were blind. Because if you were then that would have excused you from not introducing me as the new double champion damn it!
The fans begin to boo even louder as it’s clear that The Educator is deluded.
James Brunt: Er… no, you’re not, you just stole –
The Educator: Quiet Blunt!
James Brunt: Brunt.
The Educator: Don’t be rude. I expected better things from you, what with being British and all. You’re a disgrace to your birthplace you know that? Although, not as much of a disgrace as the people here tonight!
Truth Waters: Once again, The Educator has managed to piss off the AWC fans…
The Educator: I mean honestly, with WHAT money did you actually afford your tickets tonight? Drug money?!
The Educator begins to laugh as chants of "ASSHOLE, ASSHOLE, ASSHOLE" begin to fill the Gimnasio Municipal.
The Educator: Now Mr. Brunt, considering you can’t be trusted to actually string a sentence together, I have in my pocket the questions you should ask me.
The Educator reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a little piece of paper and hands it to James Brunt
The Educator: Read what’s there Mr. Brunt, before I slap the stupid out of you.
The ring announcer studies the piece of paper for a moment before looking back at The Educator to see if he's joking. Then he goes back to the piece of paper and begins to read from it in a monotone voice.
James Blunt: Educator, how do you feel being the new double champion?
The Educator: Well James, I've got to tell you, winning both the Frontier title and the Livewire title was well... expected really. After all I've done for this company, its the least I deserve. I mean, no human being, let alone the most intelligent man in sports entertainment, deserves to be subjected to Mr. Krimzon’s existence, and I had to tag with the oaf for crying out loud!
A few fans in the audience start to scream for Kris Krimzon.
The Educator: Oh come on now, I don’t believe that you’re really THAT stupid. If you are entertained by travesties such as Mr. Krimzon then I suggest a freak show would be a lot cheaper. But anyway, back to the question in hand. James...
The Educator put his arm around James Brunt's shoulder and brings him in close.
The Educator: It felt good. To have my hand raised and be declared the new double champion. It seemed fitting, like... like it was my destiny you know? But it was nothing really; next question.
James Brunt looks back at the piece of paper and grimaces at the next question, but reads again in the same bored, monotone voice as before.
James Brunt: Why do you think that David "Pearl" Harber cannot see your obvious talent and charisma?
The Educator: Well James, that's an easy question to answer. You see, Mr. Harber is jealous. He's jealous of the fact that I have the talent and intelligence that he wish he had. If I ran AWC, I certainly wouldn't have neanderthals such as Kris Krimzon and society's piss buckets like The Farmer running about the place. It'd be a company that people respected, where men were real men, and wrestling matches actually involved wrestling.
Truth Waters: Look... A few fans turning towards the entrance-way, hoping that somebody would come out and shut The Educator up... and I’m with them.
The Educator: And this is Mr. Harber’s weak point. First he tries to hold me back, ME, a champion. Then when he realises he cannot do that, he tries to be smart by booking me in a “Weapons match"...
The Educator uses those little rabbit ears when he says “weapons match” and actually backs away in shock from the roar of the crowd.
The Educator: I mean, have you heard of anything so barbaric? A double champion should not be subjected to such treatment!
The crowd begin to chant: ”PUSSY! PUSSY! PUSSY!”
The Educator: But tonight, I will call Mr. Harber’s bluff. You see Mr. Harber, you will never be as smart as I am, and it seems that you have underestimated me. It does sicken me to be involved in such a despicable match, but if it means another notch in the win category, then so be it. You think that just because you've booked me in a Weapons match that I'll be out of my depth? Well let me tell you, until you've taught a group of acne-ridden adolescents, you don't know how violent one man can become.
The fans begin to roar in approval at the fact that they might actually get the kind of Weapons match that they want.
The Educator: You think The Educator in a wrestling match will be good entertainment huh Harber? Well that's where you’re wrong, because I don't even need weapons to win this match. I will show all of you...
Truth Waters: What does he mean?
The Educator points out towards the audience.
The Educator: ...that intelligence is a more useful tool than any weapon. I, the most intelligent man in sports entertainment, declare NOT to use ANY weapons in this "Weapons match" and you will all learn that the pen is more mighty than the sword. The academic pen that is! And the sword being... well you get the idea damn it!
George Cassidy: He’s going to win without using a weapon!
Truth Waters: Oh… right.
The Educator lifts up his arms as “School Of Hard Knocks” begins to play over the PA system again. The Educator begins to make his way back to his dressing room.
No weapons he says?
The Irish Keep Gate-Crashing
FEATURING: MICKEY MOORE, MIKE WADE
AUTHOR: MIKE WADE
We are taken to the back door of the arena where a black rental car pulls up outside. The door swings open and a leg is flung out. No ordinary leg however as the leg doesn’t reach the ground. Perhaps it’s the leg of a small child you might ask? Suddenly the child is pushed from the car and lands on the sidewalk. On closer inspection the child is dressed in a small tux and is wearing a hat almost as large as himself and is carrying a cane. He is also sporting a large ginger-colored beard. It is at this occasion that we realize it is not a child of course. It is in fact a midget. Suddenly his pusher steps from the car. He is dressed in a jeans and t-shirt trendy combo. The t-shirt reads. “I mark for Wade”. It is of course AWC’s newest signing Mike Wade.
Mickey Moore: Jaysus Mike laddie ya just pushed me straight out of the feckin’ car!
Mike Wade: You were taking far too long to get out. I have to go out and address my adoring public Mickey. I didn’t do that in about a year, I’m not having a 2 foot 5 inch midget with his own pubic hair stuck on his face stall me!
Mickey Moore: ‘Tis not me feckin’ pubes Mike sure I told ya when I shaved them off I flushed ‘em all down the toilet.
Wade slaps himself in the head as he walks on.
Mike Wade: Too much info Mickey, too much info... now bring on Gimnasio Municipal!
We hear a slight cheap pop in the distance as Mike Wade then enters the arena followed by his ever-present sidekick, Mickey Moore.
Welcome To Hell
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, KRIS KRIMZON
AUTHOR: HYDE
We move to backstage, where Tim Shipley has just entered the building, lugging a huge navy kitbag on his back. He is, however, already dressed for his upcoming AWC début against Layne Sorensen, whose ring name is Void; a plain black t-shirt is the only addition to what he will be wearing for the match, perhaps chosen to both cover his chest (Shipley is no exhibitionist) and allow him to fade into the background (no flashy logos or designer labels). It is clearly not the case that the t-shirt is on to keep him warm; the atmosphere is stifling in the Gimnasio Municipal as it is, and this is evidenced by the hot flush on the 20-year-old’s cheeks.
A quick glance at the backstage plan on the noticeboard is enough to tell Shipley where he needs to be. As the camera closes in, we see that he is sharing just a small side room with his new friend and Academy partner Pierce Lavelle. He begins to head off in this direction, with his match scheduled to be the second of the night, but is intercepted by Kris Krimzon, who is wearing nothing but a pair of red briefs.
Tim Shipley: Um...
Kris Krimzon: Greetings!
Krimzon offers Shipley his hand; the youngster, somewhat unwillingly, takes it. Before another word can be uttered, the former Neon Wrestling ‘star’ swoops down and kisses the back of Shipley’s hand. Shipley flinches. Krimzon doesn’t seem to notice.
Kris Krimzon: Do you skate?
Tim Shipley: I – uh – I beg your pardon?
Kris Krimzon: You know – with a skateboard – you do tricks!
Tim Shipley: I know what it is, I – I wasn’t sure if I’d heard you right...
Kris Krimzon: Perhaps you need a hearing aid. Do you want a hearing aid? I’ll get you a hearing aid.
Shipley raises a hand quickly as Krimzon darts away.
Tim Shipley: No really, it’s – it’s fine...
Krimzon stops and fumbles inside his underpants.
Kris Krimzon: Ah, damn. Do you have a dollar?
Tim Shipley: Er...
Kris Krimzon: Oh, it’s OK, I found one!
Krimzon extracts a Mars bar from his briefs.
Tim Shipley: That’s not a –
Kris Krimzon: It’s OK, it works. I can fool the vending machine.
Shipley looks nonplussed.
Tim Shipley: The vending machine accepts confectionery?
Kris Krimzon nods.
Kris Krimzon: It did last time. That’s how I got my hearing aid. Look...
Krimzon grabs a bottle of the small table beside him and thrusts it towards Shipley, who reads the label cautiously: “
Tim Shipley: Er – that’s nice, Kris...
Kris Krimzon: Howdoyouknowmyname?
Shipley’s eyes widen and he backs off as Krimzon becomes aggressive.
Tim Shipley: Well – I know everyone’s name –
Krimzon raises his eyebrows suspiciously.
Kris Krimzon: Oh really.
Tim Shipley: Pretty much...
Kris Krimzon: What is it then? Hmm?
Krimzon watches Shipley with beady eyes.
Tim Shipley: I – I’m sorry, I don’t understand.
Krimzon is silent.
Tim Shipley: (firmly) I don’t understand. Now if you’ll –
Kris Krimzon: So you don’t know.
Tim Shipley: Know what?
Kris Krimzon: Everyone’s name.
Tim Shipley: I think –
Kris Krimzon: I know everyone’s name.
Tim Shipley: Good for y –
Kris Krimzon: It’s “everyone”.
Shipley stops and considers, then grins.
Tim Shipley: OK, OK, good one.
Krimzon stares at him.
Kris Krimzon: What are you talking about?
Shipley stares back.
Kris Krimzon: Oh well, I have to go. Nice meeting you. Bonjour!
Tim Shipley: That’s, erm –
Kris Krimzon: “Laterz”. I know. Guess what “1337 h4x0rz” is in French.
Tim Shipley: I... have no idea.
Kris Krimzon: Mange tout.
Tim Shipley: I don’t think –
Kris Krimzon: BONJOUR!
Krimzon sprints away. Tim Shipley watches him go, and then exhales deeply, rolling his eyes.
Tim Shipley: (quietly) Oh PRIME, where art thou?
Steven Xandrous vs The Educator
STIPULATION: WEAPONS
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHORS: YRAN AND PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: We are now ready for our opening match.
"School of Hard Knocks" by POD hits the PA system as the crowd erupt in boos. The Educator walks onto the stage and smiles, posing for the crowd as boos continue to wave towards him.
James Brunt: The following is a Weapons match! Introducing first, from Surrey, England, weighing in at 220 pounds... THE EDUCATOR!
Truth Waters: Here is The Educator!
George Cassidy: Who had an impressive win over Pact last week on Fresh!.
The Educator begins to step down the ramp-way.
CRACK!
Truth Waters: Ouch!
George Cassidy: Hehe... Steven Xandrous is getting this started early…
Truth Waters: No disqualification… He is allowed to!
The Educator falls forward onto the floor as Steven Xandrous stands above the fallen AWC superstar clutching a chair.
Truth Waters: Xandrous is showing off the chair he used to take The Educator down!
Somewhere close a bell rings as Xandrous lets the chair crack the back of The Educator again.
George Cassidy: Another chair shot… I like his plan for this match… though I can’t help worrying about The Educator. He’s not made for this environment! Pearl was sick to put him in this match.
Xandrous holds the chair in the air again, receiving a pop from the crowd as he goes. The Educator begins to struggle again but feels the chair hit the back of his head. Xandrous smiles some more, standing over The Educator. Steven drops the already battered chair and pulls his opponent to his feet.
Truth Waters: Is Xandrous bored of the weapons?
Xandrous knees The Educator a couple of times and then throws him into the barrier.
Truth Waters: The Educator's back is getting a lot of damage early on! Adam Masters already looks hurt as he crashes into the barrier as Steven follows. He is plucked to his feet and thrown towards the ring apron. The Educator gladly rolls into the ring, getting a quick break as Steven Xandrous looks under the ring apron. He rummages around and then returns, holding another chair.
George Cassidy: Another chair? LOSER!
The crowd pop, but somehow they seem disappointed. Xandrous shrugs and goes back under the apron. He returns clutching a 2x4 wrapped in barbed wire.
George Cassidy: That's what I'm talking about…
The crowd erupt in cheers, but are soon caused to boo as The Educator slides under the bottom rope with a baseball slide on Steven Xandrous. Xandrous falls to the mats surrounding the ring but is plucked to his feet as The Educator rolls him into the ring.
Truth Waters: The Educator has quickly made things a little more even.
The Educator stops and looks at the weaponry already lying on the floor and just shakes his head.
George Cassidy: Use the weapons! Sacrifice your pride just for a minute! Damage Xandrous!
Truth Waters: The Educator has already stated he doesn't want to use weapons…
The Educator follows his opponent into the ring and stands to his feet. The two men face off and begin to circle each other. They both move in eagerly but then back away as the other man moves into defensive positions.
George Cassidy: (rubbing his eyes) Are we really seeing tactics in a Weapons match?!
Finally, after about two full circles the pair lock up. Quickly The Educator swings to the back of Xandrous in a German clutch. Xandrous rotates with him and manages to roll The Educator up.
ONE!
Truth Waters: Roll-up pin by Xandrous getting just the one.
The Educator is quickly up and to his feet. He runs at Steven Xandrous but is felled to the mat with a drop toe hold. Xandrous is immediately on top of The Educator, driving his knees into his back and pulling his chin back.
Truth Waters: Xandrous is showing Ed that he can roll in the technical style, too.
The Educator manages to grab the ropes quickly. The referee, the rule-abiding Lars Larsson, forces Xandrous away. Steven steps back and runs at The Educator, dropkicking his opponent over the top rope, The Educator's shoulder hits the ring apron on the way down.
George Cassidy: Dropkick over the top! Educator lost concentration for a moment, and he looks like he’s hurt his shoulder as a result.
Steven Xandrous slides from the ring as The Educator clutches his shoulder. Xandrous grabs The Educator and stands him up.
Truth Waters: Xandrous, the Relentless champion, wants to show us what he’s made of. Interestingly, he hasn’t brought his title belt to the ring.
George Cassidy: This isn’t a title defence, Truth. He doesn’t need to.
Truth Waters: I’m aware of that, but champions tend to like showing off...
Xandrous whips The Educator around the side of the ring.
CLUNK!
The Educator's shoulder slams into the ring post as he crumples to the floor.
Truth Waters: Whipped HARD into the ringpost there.
George Cassidy: I think it’s time for The Educator to succumb to the pressure and fight to the stipulations.
Xandrous follows quickly, laying a couple of boots into The Educator's shoulder. Xandrous walks off and lifts up the steel chair he took from under the ring apron.
Truth Waters: It may be too late for Ed, as Xandrous wants to inflict further damage.
Steven Xandrous opens out the chair as though he is ready to sit down on it and then walks back to The Educator.
George Cassidy: Or perhaps not... Xandrous sets up the chair.
Truth Waters: Remember that spot at Solarized?
George Cassidy: The two of them, in fact... spectacular.
Xandrous pulls The Educator to his feet, kneeing him in the stomach a couple of time. Xandrous kicks The Educator in the gut, doubling him over. He puts his arm between The Educator’s legs, and positions to the right of The Educator. One throwing suplex later and The Educator lands shoulder first on the standing chair, with Adam Masters falling through it.
Truth Waters: And we saw something similar right there! Xandrous with an unorthodox throw right through the chair!
Xandrous hooks The Educator's leg as he hits the ground.
George Cassidy: Come on, Educator... you can kick out. Please?
Truth Waters: Wait. What’s going on?
The referee shakes his head, refusing to count the pin. Xandrous gets off the lifeless body of The Educator and argues with the referee.
Truth Waters: I don’t understand.
Pierre Hyde: Nor do I, but Yran wrote this bit, so you can ask him why Larsson isn’t counting.
Xandrous is mouthing off to the ref, who remains in the ring. Steven Xandrous gives up and turns round into a belly-to-belly suplex by The Educator!
George Cassidy: Belly-to-belly Educator! Great recovery to perform that awesome throw!
Truth Waters: Xandrous is a good thirty pounds lighter than Ed.
Both men are down momentarily as The Educator shrugs off his shoulder pain and stands up. He grabs Xandrous’ left arm and applies a standing armbar. The Educator quickly releases the hold and pulls Xandrous into a standing position. He kicks him in the gut and drives his head into the nearby ring post. Xandrous bounces back and is driven into the post for a second time. As Xandrous bounces back again, Educator locks in a standing face lock.
George Cassidy: Educator seems to be half swallowing his pride. While he hasn’t directly used an external weapon, he’s slamming Xandrous into that ringpost to great effect.
Xandrous screams out in pain as The Educator tightens his hold.
Truth Waters: This standing face lock is taking a lot out of Xandrous.
George Cassidy: The Educator is using his outstanding technical know-how.
The Educator continues to hold Xandrous locked in.
Truth Waters: The Relentless champion isn’t quite used to this style of wrestling.
George Cassidy: He doesn’t quite know what to do here – it’s only a simple face lock...
Steven begins to fade.
Truth Waters: There could even be a tap out –
Suddenly The Educator releases the hold and staggers away holding his gut.
George Cassidy: Oh! There was some kind of cheap shot in there by Steven Xandrous –
Truth Waters: Out of nowhere! But whatever happened, it was legal, as anything goes in this match.
Xandrous is clutching the chair and takes a swing for The Educator. The Educator ducks and sweep kicks Xandrous to the floor.
Truth Waters: Attempted chair shot, but The Educator dodges it.
Immediately The Educator mounts Xandrous and hits a barrage of punches on his face.
George Cassidy: The Educator pummels Xandrous’ face. A lot of his offence has been concentrated in that area.
Truth Waters: The ref is helpless as he watches from the ring.
The Educator continues to pound Xandrous' face.
Truth Waters: Now come on... this is taking it too far.
George Cassidy: Oh, you said it yourself Truth: it’s all legal.
The crowd starts to boo as The Educator continues with zeal.
Truth Waters: By now, twenty or thirty punches must have been landed on Xandrous’ face!
Finally, The Educator rolls off his motionless body. The Educator pulls Xandrous to his feet.
George Cassidy: The Educator is taking his time – he knows he has Xandrous where he wants him. After taking all those head punches, there’s no way –
Xandrous manages to punch The Educator in the stomach and push him away.
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: Unbelievable!
Truth Waters: Xandrous must have a superhuman ability to withstand punches.
The Educator backs off and rolls into the ring as he sees Xandrous grabbing at the chair. Xandrous slides in himself; The Educator sees that Xandrous has dropped the chair and charges him.
Truth Waters: Xandrous lost his grip on the chair there, and Ed moves in.
As The Educator runs, Xandrous swings a left hook and The Educator falls to the mat, his forehead already bloody.
Truth Waters: Or perhaps Xandrous was acting dazed for that very reason!
George Cassidy: I’m ashamed to say it, but for the first time EVER, The Educator has been fooled. Xandrous is quite a fearsome competitor.
Truth Waters: We’ve seen some good work from him in this match.
Xandrous throws his fist in the air, showing off some brass knuckles.
George Cassidy: Ah...
Truth Waters: He came prepared.
The crowd cheer as Xandrous pulls The Educator onto his shoulders and plants him with an alternative of the Diamond Cutter.
Truth Waters: That’s HOMICIDAL WRECKAGE! No way is Ed kicking out.
George Cassidy: Oh, I do beg to differ.
Xandrous hooks the leg.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: You do, do you?
George Cassidy: Ah... well...
The bell rings as the ref is quick to raise Xandrous's arm.
James Brunt: The winner... STEVEN XANDROUS!
Biding His Time
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, THE FARMER, SARAH KENNEDY, SECURITY GUARD
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
This segment was recorded at around 3PM today
The setting is in a hospital room. There is a single bed in the room, which is being occupied by Paddy O’Shea who is heavily bandaged. There is a nose support to help his broken nose heal, there’s a bandage wrapped around his upper forehead, which is covering a gash along his hairline. His ribs are also bandaged. Sitting on a seat beside the bed is The Farmer, Paddy O’Shea’s fellow stable mate. He is reading a magazine now. At a seat at the bottom of the bed is AWC’s very own Sarah Kennedy who is waiting for her cue.
Sarah Kennedy: I’m here at Abercorn Hospital to interview Paddy O’Shea who is recovering from that brutal attack by a masked man on last week’s Fresh!.
Sarah Kennedy looks over to O’Shea for his go-ahead. His blackened and swollen eyes peer at her and then he nods.
Sarah Kennedy: So Paddy, last week you were jumped by this masked man. Do you have any idea who it is?
Paddy O'Shea: Well, aye’d like t’ say aye kno’ who it is but…aye don’ have a clue. Aye thought it could have been the man tha’ cost me the title last week but obviously not seein’ as this man was under the ring the whole time.
Sarah Kennedy: That’s right, Alexander Strider cost you the Transatlantic title last week, what thoughts do you have on that?
Paddy O'Shea: Obviously, me first thought was revenge. Aye wanted t’ hurt the bastard as aye sat here in this bed this whole week. But on Saturday night, it hit me – the Transatlantic title hasn’ even been on me mind at all these last few weeks and rightly so. Me father is still missing and aye can’ prioritise o’er him fer a feckin’ title tha’ says aye be the best in the world. So, fer now, Strider is safe. Maybe when aye’ve gotten me father aye can worry about petty grudges and sneak attacks. Strider’s only concern is tha’ title. He doesn’ realise there’s more to the wrestlin’ world than gold especially when things get personal.
Sarah Kennedy: So you do intend on getting your own back on Alexander Strider.
Paddy O'Shea: Aye do indeed. Ye see, aye have a long memory and suddenly when ye think ye be safe aye can spring from anywhere. Strider, aye’ll admit, tha’ little stunt may have annoyed some t’ the extent tha’ they’d come runnin’ after ye, efin’ and blindin’. But Strider, yer a nothin’ an’ eventually, when this thing about me father clears up, aye’m goin’ t’ come lookin’ fer ye. But in the mean time, Strider has a little somethin’ t’ keep him preoccupied.
Sarah Kennedy: And what’s that?
Paddy O'Shea: A little somethin’ called Crimson O’Malec.
Sarah Kennedy: Crimson? What’s he got to do with this?
Paddy O'Shea: Well, do ye remember last week how Crimson came out when Strider was runnin’ his mouth about me? He came out t’ defend me, jus’ like aye would do fer him and jus’ like this friend here would do fer us. Well, Crimson was abou’ t’ beat a little respect into him before he got arrested. But now, things are different. Crimson made a promise tha’ if Strider touched The Farmer or me then he would make it ten times worse fer him. The point is, Crimson keeps his promises an’ Strider is a marked man.
Sarah Kennedy: So Eire Og are attempting to bring Strider down with a bang. Well what are your plans concerning this masked man then?
Paddy O'Shea: Well right now, aye can’t really do a thing. Aye’m forced to this place to heal up. Aye was stupid last week an’ aye let tha’ attack happen through me own stupidity. All aye can do is make sure tha’ doesn’ happen again. Then, when he springs his attack, aye’ll have the bastard. Aye know wha’ way he be thinkin’ an’ aye know his weaknesses.
Sarah Kennedy: But right now, you’re very vulnerable, aren’t you?
Paddy O'Shea: Tha’ be true. Right now aye’m in no state t’ fight. The AWC have kindly posted a security guard t’ protect me though.
The camera swings around to reveal a security guard standing beside the doorway. He is uniformed in typical navy and has a gun holstered on his belt.
Paddy O'Shea: Aye would like the AWC t’ know aye do appreciate tha’. Aye’m no’ one o’ these fools tha’ say “aye don’ need a security guard cause aye be tough enough”. Aye tell ye, aye need all the help aye can get. It be dangerous but aye’m not in over me head. Like aye said before, aye know this man’s weaknesses jus’ like aye know how Strider thinks. It only be a matter o’ time before they are both brought t’ account.
Sarah Kennedy: Thank you for your time Paddy. Back to you guys.
An Outsider's Challenge
FEATURING: JAMES VARGA
AUTHOR: JAMES VARGA
The eerie opening to Fear Factory’s “Freedom Or Fire” begins playing over the loud speakers as the lights dim out. Psychedelic strobe lights illuminate the arena in a colorful display. The crowd erupts as James Varga comes out wearing the UWF North American championship belt. Varga is dressed in a Willy Wonka-esque suit and hat. He smiles for the camera and blows kisses to all of his adoring Varg as he comes down to the ring.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring... from the UWF, JAMES VARGA!
Truth Waters: Oh, for God’s sake, can’t he stick to his own promotion? Why the need to take up AWC airtime with his crap?
Varga then climbs into the ring and asks for a microphone, which he is granted as the lights come back on and the his music fades out.
James Varga: Well, well, well. If it isn't the AWC.
James says this with a cheesy little smirk on his face.
James Varga: The Atlantic Wrestling Club. Let me be precise, a CLUB. This isn't a wrestling organization.
Varga shakes his head and looks out to the crowd with disdain.
James Varga: This is nothing more than your typical Moose Lodge Club that they have in just about every city in the United States. A bunch of guys and even a few babes...
Varga raises his eyebrows twice, which draws some laughs.
George Cassidy: Hahaha! Now tell me Varga isn’t great.
Truth Waters: Varga isn’t great.
George Cassidy: Ouch.
James Varga: ...coming out here every week in tights and dancing around like a bunch of sissies. Because you see, James Varga is better than (motions around the arena) anybody you got here and everybody knows it.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOO~!
James looks around, mildly amused by this.
James Varga: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm the fuck down.
Varga motions for the crowd to calm down but then just throws his arms up in disgust.
Truth Waters: Does he not understand the rules on language here?!
James Varga: Do you people realize that the trash that you cheer for is nothing more than a bunch of guys who want to be me? (nods his head) Yes, that's right. They want the fame, fortune, and all the bullshit that comes with it. They want the right to fuck any ring rat that comes around the back area after the show.
This remark actually draws some applause from the crowd, which is surprising.
James Varga: They want to be known worldwide. They want to be James Varga. And you know what? None of them can. Why? Because they all suck.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO~!
James Varga has a devious little smile on his face.
James Varga: Idiots, creep, and homeless vagabonds of the AWC, I'm challenging ANY of you jackasses to come out to this ring right now and try to wipe the floor with me.
Varga motions toward the back.
James Varga: Come on, losers. Come on down and get your asses handed to you as I kill you all with my great wrestling ability.
Varga motions to the back some more.
James Varga: Come on! Ain't anybody got some guts? Or are you all a bunch of chickenshits?
Truth Waters: I think perhaps they’re just waiting for this idiot to get the hell off of international television.
Varga smiles.
James Varga: I bet you all think I'm joking around, huh? I bet you all think this is another James Varga rib. Well guess what? It isn't.
James looks around in frustration.
James Varga: Come on! Somebody get down here!
Varga snaps his fingers.
George Cassidy: Will somebody just come and face him?
Truth Waters: Yeah, beat the hell out of him and tell Varga never to come back.
James Varga: What about your little holy grail, Crimson O'Malec?
The crowd cheers. Varga smiles and nods his head.
James Varga: Yeah. Send that little Ewok down here as a sacrifice to James Fucking Varga right now.
James points to the mat and the crowd boos.
James Varga: Or what about Pact? (chuckles) What's he going to do? (shakes his head) Loser.
Varga then snaps his fingers again, as if a another name comes to his mind.
James Varga: What about The Farmer?
James starts laughing.
James Varga: (mockingly) I'm shaking in my boots just thinking about what that pig-fucking Midwestern inbred jackass might do to me.
Crowd: BOOOOOOOOOOOO~!
James Varga: Or what about Paddy O'Shea?
Crowd cheers as Varga smiles.
James Varga: Bring out that leprechaun so I can send it back to the hood with all the homies like I saw in that movie I rented last weekend at Blockbuster.
Some drunk guys are actually cheering that remark. James shrugs his shoulders.
James Varga: No?
Varga chuckles to himself.
James Varga: Well, you'll all see that this is no joke...
James Varga cackles evilly.
James Varga: I shall return.
Truth Waters: Oh, great...
James' face suddenly turns stone cold and he throws the mic down. His music starts playing as he exits the ring. Varga ignores the crowd and walks backstage amidst a large amount of jeering and catcalls.
Flames Still Burning
FEATURING: PIERCE LAVELLE, TIM SHIPLEY, ALEXANDER STRIDER, PAMELA SAUNDERS
AUTHORS: LARA CLARKE, ERIC HALLORAN AND PIERRE HYDE
We go to backstage. Pierce Lavelle is dressed in a pair of black trousers and a dark blue shirt. His hair is gelled in such a way that his hair on the top of his head and back of his head is spiked. He is seated on a small chair in the back locker room, staring blankly at a TV set, the TV rays flickering different colours onto his emotionless face. His title is slung over an additional chair. The crowd cheer at the sight of Lavelle, but make no additional effort to affect his concentration. Tim Shipley enters and once again the crowd cheer, but the cheers are only just heard in the backstage area.
Tim Shipley: Are you still looking at that video tape?
Tim Shipley is dressed in his ring gear, ready for his upcoming debut match against Void. Pierce Lavelle turns around and sees his tag partner dressed and ready for his first match back into the business. Lavelle stops the tape and stands up.
Pierce Lavelle: Tim how's it going? You ready for your first match back?
Tim Shipley: Let’s hope so... I can’t just freeze like I did last week...
Pierce Lavelle: I think you'll do fine and if there is any trouble, I'll be down to watch your back. You’re Tim Shipley, the best wrestler I have seen in a long time. Don't worry about tonight. The fans will be behind you and once the adrenaline kicks in, you'll feel right at home, in that squared circle.
Tim Shipley nods his head and takes a seat on the previously superfluous chair, but takes caution as he removes Lavelle's title belt and hands it back to him.
Tim Shipley: What is it you're looking for on that video?
Pierce Lavelle: The thing is the match went great, I performed to the best I could with a concussion. What I don't get is why Strider would come out to the ring like that, ignore me in my weak state and attack Paddy O'Shea. It just doesn't make sense. Strider is playing a game or something; either that or he has a hidden agenda.
Tim Shipley: I wouldn't dwell on it... you won the match, perhaps you should just forget about what Strider did and concentrate more on what's to come over the next few weeks.
Pierce Lavelle: You're right about that, Tim. But, I won't forget Strider's little interference.
Pierce Lavelle sits down again and fast-forwards the tape to Strider's intervention. Tim Shipley stands up and puts his hand on Lavelle's shoulder, who just nods his head as a farewell and Shipley leaves for his match. Pierce looks around at the dark, dull, empty room. The fans are chanting "LAVELLE" all around the arena, but he can barely hear it. He picks up his title and leaves the TV playing as he make his way out of the room.
In the corridor Alex Strider is seated, sipping some water and talking to Pamela Saunders, who jots notes down on a legal pad. Pierce Lavelle stands at the top of the corridor, eyeing the man behind many of his previous mishaps and misfortunes. Pierce Lavelle contemplates and begins to stride toward Alex Strider.
Pierce Lavelle: Why did you help me last week on Fresh! ?
Alexander Strider grins to himself and tells Pamela to go his locker room. Putting the water bottle onto the small, folded out table, Strider turns his attention to Lavelle.
Pierce Lavelle: You not going to answer me?
The fans boo Alex Strider who ignores Pierce’s question. Lavelle smiles to himself and adjusts his title, making sure Alex Strider spots it.
Alex Strider: Pierce, if I were you, I wouldn't worry so much. I mean, hell, you didn't mind when your new best friend jumped the fence and helped you, right? What's the difference?
Lavelle smiles at Strider's reference to Tim Shipley.
Pierce Lavelle: You tried to kill me at Solarized. I was lucky, I'll admit that. But, you're a lot different than Shipley. You are manipulative, egotistic, dangerous and your comments usually come with something hidden; most of the time when you give something or say something, you usually want something in return.
Pamela Saunders is still standing behind “The Mongoose” Alex Strider, unwilling to move as she watches the two men arguing in front of her. The former Transatlantic champion picks up his bottle of water and takes another sip.
Alex Strider: Listen, kid. Quit the dramatics, I didn't try to kill you. It was an Inferno match and I didn't hear the bell, I was trying to set you on fire. That's all. I had no idea that I’d already been set on fire. No hard feeling, ‘kay, champ?
Alex claps a hand on Pierce’s shoulder before he turns around and looks at Pamela, raising his eyebrows. The reporter rolls her eyes, crosses her arms and looks away.
Alex Strider: What happened between Paddy and I was personal. Are you jealous that I didn't hurt you for a change? Don't worry, once I once again knock aside all comers, you and I will be squaring off soon enough.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m not being dramatic, all I am saying is stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours. I don’t need your help and I don’t want to play any of your little games. You can count on that rematch, Strider. You can count on that. I however find it hard to believe that you didn't hear the bell; you must remember yourself being set on fire. Or was that just wiped from your memory. Your first loss was to me, a man you can hardly even look at or give the time of day for.
Pamela Saunders looks over Strider's shoulder at the young Pierce Lavelle, and jots another note down on her legal pad. Lavelle notices this.
Pierce Lavelle: My name is Pierce Lavelle. How do you do?
Pierce Lavelle gives his hand to Pamela Saunders who is about to shake it when Strider steps in and slaps it away.
Pierce Lavelle: I see...
Lavelle smiles, and turns to face Strider once again. Pamela Saunders looks at Strider quizzically.
Alex Strider: Number one: Only an idiot wouldn’t know who you are now that you stole my title. Number two: Don’t worry about who I bring with me, rookie. She’s engaged anyhow, and not into kids. Hey, I think I hear your friend sobbing in the corner over his dog that died when he was a kid. Maybe you should go comfort him.
Pierce Lavelle: I didn’t steal your title, Strider. I beat you fairly in that hellacious Inferno match. You know it, but you just won’t accept it. Watch the reruns! You can call me whatever you like, Strider, but this ‘rookie’ beat you for this title. The very first person to ever beat you in AWC. Must damage that ego of yours.
Lavelle stops and stares Saunders in the face, ignoring Strider’s coughing.
Pierce Lavelle: No wonder you’re keeping her a secret. I recognise you. You’re Pamela Saunders, right? You’re the reporter that is reporting on the dead woman found in Alex Strider’s apartment. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up...
Lavelle stands back a little, disappointed in what he has just said.
Alex Strider: I…
Pierce Lavelle: I didn’t mean to bring that up…
Alex Strider frowns, the humour now gone from his face. Strider turns profile, standing nose to nose with Pierce Lavelle, gritting his teeth.
Alex Strider: Alright, Pierce. You got me at Solarized. Live it up. Take your cheap shots… while you still can. But you should watch your back. Your friend Tim wasn’t able to save his other partner, so if I were you, I wouldn’t be thinking I was sitting in such a safe place.
Alex dusts off Pierce’s shoulder with his hand. Lavelle is now gritting his teeth, his knuckles cracking as his fist tightens with the sickening mention of the deceased Tony Aliso.
Alex Strider: Because pretty soon we’re going to have a rematch, kid. All I need to do is beat Ellis Nash tonight – I’ve done it before. And then I’m going to destroy you.
Lavelle backs off a little, turning his head away. He turns around sharply, rising his fist into the air...! Alex Strider stays put; Pierce Lavelle stops the punch at Strider’s cheek. He grits his teeth and stands back again.
Pierce Lavelle: Tony Aliso’s death had nothing to do with me, you or even Tim. I am in a safer place than you are, Strider. I am not accused of a murder and at this moment in time, I am the champion, yes. But you underestimate me too much, Strider. Our next rematch will be a different story.
Meanwhile behind Pierce Lavelle, Tim Shipley is standing behind the wall, listening in on the conversation, clearly having spotted the two arguing on his way to the gorilla position. He appears from the corner and stands next to Lavelle. Pierce Lavelle turns his back on Strider.
Pierce Lavelle: You’re not worth it, Strider.
Shipley and Lavelle start to walk away. Strider’s face is left emotionless. The spunk, humour and witty comments he had earlier have left.
Alex Strider: You’re a hypocrite, Lavelle, with all your talk about Tim Shipley’s dead life-mate not being my business. That sure doesn’t stop you from bringing up the deceased in my history. You’ve failed even before you’ve begun. That belt has already changed you. I knew you weren’t mature enough to handle the pressure. Don’t worry though, Pierce; I’ll be taking it back soon enough.
The Mongoose smiles wide, parting his lips into his great white smile. Lavelle ignores Strider and disappears around the corner, while Shipley heads down a different corridor towards the ring.
Tim Shipley vs Void
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
George Cassidy: Now we’re about to see Tim Shipley take on Void in the youngster’s first AWC match.
Truth Waters: Can he overcome the crippling shyness of last week’s appearance on Fresh! to show us the kind of form that took him to third place in Primetime Central’s Seven Of The Best tournament in April this year?
Referee Joseph Reid and ring announcer James Brunt step into the ring as all the arena lighting goes out. The big screen flashes into life, with a piece of rapid video taking a first-person trip through a conceptual maze of light in space. The text 'Astral Conversations With Toulouse Lautrec' buzzes repeatedly across the screen, as the song of the same name by Northern Irish rock group Ash starts up with a re-recorded robotic voice-over announcing: "Please welcome: Tim Shipley. Error. Does not compute. Does not compute..." The basic two-chord opening begins, with Tim Wheeler's melodic "Uh. Uh uh" leading the song into the slightly heavier section as the guitar joins in.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Milton Keynes, England, weighing in at 201 pounds... "Summer's Son" TIM SHIPLEY!
White spotlights dance around the arena, and now two blue spotlights, emitting light from the ringposts, slowly rotate down from the arena roof to focus on the stage, where Tim Shipley is now standing, scrunching his hands together, looking apprehensively out at the fans, who give the newcomer a sizeable pop following his recent actions.
George Cassidy: Summer’s Son? Where did that come from?
Truth Waters: The brains of AWC’s writers, I guess, as Shipley isn’t the nicknames type. Besides, it hardly fits. He’s not the fun- and sun-loving surfer dude you’d expect to get that kind of name... Shipley is more the studious, quiet type...
George Cassidy: When you’ve quite finished criticising your own company on live TV –
Truth Waters: Isn’t that what you are paid to do?
George Cassidy: So get off my turf.
The white lights dance more and more frantically before simultaneously all coming to a stop to also focus on the stage and Tim Shipley, just as another piece of robot-squawk ends to be replaced by the more simple "Uh. Uh uh" and the video feed changes to a shot of a conceptual spaceship racing through a tunnel. Shipley, finally taking his cue, comes slowly down to the ring, looking around in wonder at the fans. His space-age music fades to nothing and is replaced by the strains of Tool’s “Reflection”.
James Brunt: His opponent, weighing in at 229 pounds... VOID!
The Miscreant, so far still something of a mystery to AWC fans, makes his unheralded way down the entrance ramp and rolls into the ring as the lights come back up. Joseph Reid brashly informs them both of the rules; Shipley nods nervously while Void stares stonily at the cocky referee. The bell now sounds, and both wrestlers hold their ground.
George Cassidy: After just a couple of seconds, the indicators all point to a bout of psychological warfare throughout this match – which would make a change; all we usually see in AWC is half-assed brawls and risky spots without any real skill...
Truth Waters: Oh, give it a rest. Void now lunging in suddenly at Shipley...
Shipley skips back, away from Void’s confident arms.
George Cassidy: Shipley moves away, but he’s cornered himself.
His facial expression still entirely neutral, Void advances and throws a hard fist into Shipley’s sternum. Shipley tries to protect his ribs as Void goes for another shot, and the college undergraduate grabs Void’s right arm before drawing him in and kneeing him in the gut. Void doubles up and Shipley, thinking on his feet, pushes himself up onto the second turnbuckle before leaping off with a dropkick into Void’s chest.
Truth Waters: Second rope dropkick by Shipley.
George Cassidy: He did well after being dumb enough to let Void trap him near the turnbuckle.
Both men rise, Shipley the more alert, and the younger man by five years pulls off a hiptoss. Void lands flat on his back, but Shipley is not allowed to do anything further as, bending down, he is met by a raised boot to the face.
Truth Waters: Hiptoss by Shipley, but he can’t follow up as Void gets his boot up.
George Cassidy: Void has a wealth of experience compared to Shipley’s sum total of six months in pro wrestling.
Void comes to his feet and punches Shipley in the ribs twice more.
George Cassidy: Looks like The Miscreant’s targeting the torso in this match.
Void now takes hold of his opponent’s shoulders and executes a straight jawbreaker.
Truth Waters: Jawbreaker by Void, and Shipley goes down.
George Cassidy: I’m not sure Shipley quite knew how to prepare for that move...
Truth Waters: Strange, as it’s definitely a part of his own arsenal.
George Cassidy: He doesn’t quite look up to the pace in these early stages. Could he be unfit after so long out of the game?
Void drags Tim Shipley to his feet and slams his head into the turnbuckle. He now lifts the 201-pounder effortlessly and drapes him, inverted, over the turnbuckle.
George Cassidy: Tree of woe!
The Miscreant backs up a little, then runs a few steps and leaps into an unorthodox attack, spreading his legs apart to in effect land a Bronco buster but around the chest and arms of the unfortunate Shipley, hanging upside down!
Truth Waters: What a manoeuvre!
George Cassidy: Void launched himself at the turnbuckle, pinning Shipley against it.
The impact causes Shipley to flop off the turnbuckle; he now slumps over Void, who is on his back, in a ‘top-to-tail’ situation.
”SIXTY-NINE! SIXTY-NINE!”
George Cassidy: I think we just learned a hell of a lot about our fans here in Honduras.
Truth Waters: They probably only just discovered the internet.
Seeing an opportunity with this positioning, Void, who is still lying on the mat with Shipley over him, locks his adversary’s head in between his thighs. Shipley’s legs immediately start kicking; Void’s solution is to bring his arms in between them and then outward, holding both legs down.
George Cassidy: This is the weirdest hold I’ve ever encountered... fodder for the pervert fans.
Truth Waters: Void’s got a grapevine going on around Shipley’s head, but he’s holding Shipley on top of him. Isn’t there a risk of getting pinned like this?
George Cassidy: Well, his thighs are most definitely off the mat in that bent position around Shipley’s neck.
”SIXTY-NINE! SIXTY-NINE!”
George Cassidy: Will somebody shut them up? I can’t help imagining...
Truth Waters: Don’t finish that sentence.
Joseph Reid drops almost flat to the canvas to ascertain the extent of the danger Shipley is in. It seems rather minor, however, as Shipley is still struggling violently, the main agent here being his legs.
Truth Waters: Shipley is still kicking and shaking those legs around, and Void isn’t in the best position to stop him.
With one especially energetic kick of the right foot, Shipley’s right leg is free and the momentum makes him roll to the right, off of Void’s body. Layne Sorensen, rolling ninety degrees, keeps the scissored legs around his neck, though.
George Cassidy: In a sense that half-escape has actually helped Void. He’s in a better position now to squeeze down around Shipley’s neck.
Determined not to have the breath literally squeezed out of him, Shipley thinks hard for a second, then positions his hands either side of his head as if for a backward roll. Using these to propel him backwards, he swings his right leg up and then round, catching Sorensen’s head on its descent. While this causes little pain, it is enough of a distraction to cause Void’s hold to relent ever so slightly, and Shipley, anticipating this, is ready to pull his head out – he now does so.
Truth Waters: Clever escape by Tim Shipley.
George Cassidy: Look at him! His head is red as a tomato.
Shipley looks flustered after his brief ordeal. He kneels for a couple of seconds, trying to get some energy back, but Void is already standing and takes Shipley’s left arm. Holding it up high, forcing Shipley’s shoulder joint to stretch, Void rears back and boots Shipley hard in that shoulder. Tim yells out and plants his right boot flat on the mat.
Truth Waters: Shipley is trying to get to a vertical base.
George Cassidy: Layne Sorensen is not going to let him do that, though.
Truth Waters: I think you mean Void.
George Cassidy: I think I mean shut up.
Truth Waters: That isn’t very kind.
Void gives Shipley a second stiff kick to the shoulder joint, but Shipley, ignoring the pain, seizes this moment to rise to his feet, to an appreciative cheer from the fans. Determined to assert himself now, Shipley ducks Void’s desperate clothesline and applies a side headlock. After just a couple of seconds, Shipley releases the hold, choosing to throw himself off the ropes, and just as Void stands fully once more he is met with a flying shoulder attack from Shipley!
Truth Waters: Shoulder tackle!
George Cassidy: A good little sequence by Shipley, timing it all perfectly so that Void didn’t have a moment to react as he stood straight again following the headlock.
Pleased with the result, Shipley applies a swift lateral press from his ready position and Joseph Reid counts the fall:
ONE!
Void powers out.
Truth Waters: Just a one-count from our first pin.
Shipley hauls himself back up, just feeling his shoulder a little.
George Cassidy: He’s holding his left shoulder. Perhaps that flying shoulder attack wasn’t the best choice after Void had just been working on his shoulder.
Truth Waters: You’re probably right.
Sensing a lull in Shipley’s offence, Void suddenly drives upwards with a powerful uppercut! Shipley’s head snaps back and he collapses to the mat in a daze. Void now decides it’s time for a pinfall, hooking the leg:
ONE!
TWO!
Shipley kicks out.
George Cassidy: Kickout by Shipley; two-count only.
Truth Waters: That was a devastating uppercut by Void.
Void, in control, pulls Shipley up by his shortish blond-brown hair and gives him a couple of weak left forearms. Ducking down a little, he now wraps his long arms around the 20-year-old’s chest and delivers an inverted atomic drop.
George Cassidy: Inverted atomic drop – or as they may well call it here in Honduras, the “Erection Destroyer”.
Truth Waters: ...
”ERECTION DESTROYER! ERECTION DESTROYER!”
Truth Waters: Ah, you’re right.
Void wipes the sweat from his face with distaste. The crowd, rightly taking this as a signal, roars as Sorensen stomps over to the corner and slowly mounts the turnbuckle. Composing himself on the top rope, he waits a little, as Shipley struggles down below – in more ways than one.
George Cassidy: Void is up on the top!
Truth Waters: He wants to finish this match off now.
Void leaps off and lands a hard elbow drop to Shipley’s chest!
Truth Waters: Top rope elbow drop!
George Cassidy: And it wasn’t one of those pussy “I’ll dive onto the mat and stretch out my arm across your chest” elbow drops, either. He had his hands clasped together for extra impact, driving that right elbow deep into Shipley’s breastbone.
Truth Waters: Let’s hope no ribs were broken.
Void grabs hold of Shipley, who has rolled onto his side, and arranges him flat before going for the pin:
ONE!
TWO!
Shipley kicks out!
Truth Waters: Kickout! And I wasn’t quite sure on that one. Shipley doesn’t look comfortable after the last few impacts.
George Cassidy: Void is certainly going to have this one wrapped up sometime soon.
Void stands and moves over to the ropes, leaning on them to have a rest. Referee Reid makes a comment to him.
George Cassidy: I don’t think Joseph Reid is too happy with Void using the ropes.
Truth Waters: Oh, give it a rest, Reid, you fool.
Void, shrugging, stands straight, away from the ropes, as Shipley doggedly gets back up. Void goes over and hooks up, looking behind him to set up a snap suplex, which he now executes – sending Shipley through the air to knock Joseph Reid down!
Truth Waters: He hits the referee!
George Cassidy: Void just suplexed Shipley and hit Joseph Reid on the way!
Truth Waters: That was premeditated. I saw Void looking! Ha, Reid, now you know why you should only enforce the rules that matter.
Sorensen gets up to survey his impact with a smile. Tim Shipley is now draped partially over the top of Joseph Reid. With a sudden inspiration, Void slides out of the ring and packs up a steel folding chair from alongside the announcers’ table.
Truth Waters: Hey!
Void turns to Waters, raising the chair threateningly.
Truth Waters: Oh, you just try it.
Sorensen chooses to ignore the brash announcer and rolls back into the ring with the chair, just as Shipley comes to all fours. Void lifts the chair high overhead and slams it down – the chair bounces out of his hands with the recoil after hitting the canvas! Void curses as the pain in his wrists reaches him.
Truth Waters: Shippers got out of the way!
Knowing this is his only chance, Shipley makes a desperate lunge to grab Void’s leg and bring him to the mat with a dragonscrew. Void yells as his left leg is twisted violently, and Shipley follows up by applying a single leg crab to that same leg.
George Cassidy: Shipley locks a crab on the left leg. He’s decided he needs a focus for his attacks if he wants to turn this match around.
Truth Waters: That was his only brief opportunity and he took it well. Now Shipley just has to ignore the fatigue and take convincing control over Void.
Shipley grins out at the cheering fans as he arches his back to accentuate the pain racking Layne Sorensen’s leg. The referee now groggily comes to his feet.
George Cassidy: Ah! Joseph Reid is up. I wonder if he’ll disqualify Void for that attack on him.
Truth Waters: I don’t think he’ll be able to. There’s no way Reid can say for sure that it was purposeful – despite everyone in this 5,000-capacity Gimnasio Municipal knowing that it certainly was!
Reid stares at the slightly bent folding chair that resides in the ring’s corner. Turning his attention to the two wrestlers struggling on the mat, he tries and fails to make a connection.
Truth Waters: He’s confused by that chair being there; he knows something’s gone on with it but not quite what.
George Cassidy: No one actually got hit with it, anyway...
Truth Waters: Nothing Reid can do.
The referee kicks the chair out to ringside, where it lands with a small noise on the floor. He now goes down to his hands and knees to check the situation with Void, who is gritting his teeth with the pain of the leg crab. Slowly, however, he is managing to inch his way away from the centre of the ring, using repeated sideways oscillations of his body that Shipley is powerless to resist.
George Cassidy: Void is working his way towards the ropes – but oh, so slowly.
Truth Waters: If Shipley wants a tap, he’ll have to get it soon.
George Cassidy: I don’t think that is the aim of this single leg crab. Having studied a few tapes from Core, and after seeing him in training, he always tends to use it as a weakening hold in preparation for his Newton’s Paradox submission hold, which is what he uses to finish his opponents off.
Truth Waters: What about the Eternal Hope? That sure did for Strider at Solarized.
George Cassidy: Strider was TIRED! He could beat Shipley any day.
Truth Waters: Hmm. On tonight’s evidence, I don’t doubt that. Shipley hasn’t found any level of consistency in this match.
Void suddenly wrenches his body a lot harder in one direction, and Shipley is forced to throw a hand to the side to keep his balance in the hold. This proves to be the opening Sorensen needed, as he now pulls hard and disentangles his leg from those of his opponent.
George Cassidy: Void escapes the crab! Now, how can he retaliate?
Unfazed, “Summer’s Son” Tim Shipley rises to his feet and drags Void up, leaning him against the ropes. He takes a step back and falls into a dropkick to the knee; Void falls face-first to the mat.
Truth Waters: Low dropkick by Shipley.
Shipley now scrambles to his feet and takes Void’s left foot, inclining the calf of the leg perpendicular to the thigh and inserting his boot behind the knee joint. He now stamps down hard.
George Cassidy: Shipley continues to work on the left leg, possibly in preparation for Newton’s Paradox, as I have already mentioned.
Void rolls over onto his back, and Shipley moves gracefully into an elbow drop to the sternum, keeping Void down. He then takes hold of Sorensen’s left leg and extends it upwards, placing his foot just inside Void’s right thigh. With a grunt of effort, Shipley now uses his body to thrust Void’s leg outwards, preventing the entire body from swivelling with the movement because of his foot being planted firmly in the way.
Truth Waters: He’s loosening up those joints; this is definitely a means to an end.
Determined not to let Tim Shipley have his way so easily, Void pulls his leg roughly from the young man’s grasp and gets to his feet unsteadily with blind courage. He runs at Shipley and swings a powerful right arm across his chest; Shipley goes down like a shot.
George Cassidy: Void with a powerful clothesline.
Truth Waters: He’s resorting to desperation to stay in this match.
Void commences a sequence of powerful right-footed stomps to the downed Shipley as the fans boo him. Shipley rolls away and uses the ropes to get to his feet, glancing at the slightly damaged steel chair that lies unwanted in the ring’s corner.
George Cassidy: Shipley gives that steel chair a longing glance...
Truth Waters: Oh, I’d say less longing and more worry. Void is far more likely to be interested in using an illegal weapon.
Shipley hurriedly moves towards Void and, avoiding his advances, takes him down with an armdrag towards a different corner.
George Cassidy: Yeah, Shipley does seem desperate to keep the fight away from that corner.
Void rises and throws a right arm at Shipley, who blocks it with difficulty, but he is powerless to resist a second forearm thrust from Layne Sorensen. Void takes advantage of Shipley being knocked back a few feet to boot him in the midsection and perform a flowing DDT.
Truth Waters: Beautiful DDT by Void.
Sensing this may be his only chance, Void hooks the leg, gnashing his teeth as he puts all his strength into holding his opponent down.
George Cassidy: Void’s chance to win this...
ONE!
TWO!
Shipley kicks out at the last.
Truth Waters: Shippers kicks out! And you feel that may just be it for Void. He gave everything there and still couldn’t come up with the 1-2-3.
Persevering, though, Void pushes fatigue aside to pull Shipley to his feet and lock up for a suplex. He hooks both arms and tries to launch Shipley overhead, but the Harbrook freshman stays grounded, holding down his weight well.
George Cassidy: Void no longer has the strength to launch Shipley with the double underhook suplex he wants.
Frustrated, Void pushes Shipley into the ropes and takes him through into a powerslam, but Shipley nimbly springs off Void’s body with his hands and lands, having spun 180 degrees, on his feet.
Truth Waters: Even Shipley looks surprised at that little escape.
Void turns to face Shipley, frowning, and Shipley moves in for the kill, grabbing Void’s left arm and taking it round behind him in a hammerlock. Losing no time, Shipley sweeps Void’s legs away with one of his own, causing Void to drop flat to the mat with Shipley right on top of him, landing with the hammerlock still applied.
Truth Waters: That’s what is known as the hammerlock sweep. Shipley brings Void painfully to the mat –
George Cassidy: And Shipley wants to end this thing! Newton’s Paradox applied!
Shipley has entangled Void’s legs in the fearsome Newton’s Paradox submission.
Truth Waters: Void is clearly feeling pain following Shipley wearing down his left leg earlier!
Void grits his teeth, shaking his head violently.
George Cassidy: He can’t stand the pain. I hope he doesn’t give in too quickly – that’d be a shame –
Truth Waters: He has! Void taps out!
Sorensen slaps his hand repeatedly on the mat, begging off with all he is worth, and Shipley complies, allowing himself a small smile as he gets wearily to his feet to have the ring announcer raise his arm in celebration of the win.
James Brunt: The winner... TIM SHIPLEY!
Truth Waters: Shipley takes victory in his first AWC match. More than he managed in Core, when he lost his debut to Jake Salos, who went on to achieve... nothing.
George Cassidy: He was always a slow-burner – and still is, despite turning this match around.
Psychological Warfare
FEATURING: THE EDUCATOR, JONNY SAKE
AUTHORS: LEON CRUISEY AND JAMES JOHNSON
The camera focuses on The Educator walking down one of the arena's hallways. He's carrying a black changing bag and has the Frontier title over one shoulder and the Livewire title over the other. He seems to be making his way towards the arena's exit after his earlier match with Steven Xandrous. He passes a door and then checks himself and pulls back a bit, looking at the name of the door. The camera moves forward and the name, Jonny Sake, can be seen written on the door. The Educator scratches his chin and adjusts his glasses before knocking on the door.
Voice: Come in.
The Educator puts both of the belts into the black bag before opening the door. The camera moves in with The Educator and the 7'2" frame of Jonny Sake can be seen. He's preparing for his upcoming Duo Tag match and is wearing black and white striped Adidas training pants with no top.
The Educator: Mr. Sake I presume?
The Educator lifts his hand for a handshake but Sake just looks at him as if he's crazy.
Jonny Sake: Dude... you know it’s me, this isn't the first time we've met.
The Educator: Ah I'm sorry, it’s my new policy, introducing myself to the... little people.
The Educator looks up, straight-faced, towards Jonny Sake's face.
The Educator: Being the new double champion and all…
Jonny Sake: Is that a fact?
The Educator: Why yes, yes it is.
Jonny Sake: So what'd you want anyway?
The Educator: I believe you have a Duo Tag match with a certain Mr. Krimzon tonight, correct?
Jonny Sake: Yeah that's right.
The Educator begins to laugh and puts his hand on Sake's arm, but Jonny just looks at him and he quickly removes it.
The Educator: Well, being a... former... part... part…
The Educator grimaces.
The Educator: Partner... of Mr. Krimzon, I can tell you that it’s not a very good idea to be associated with him.
Jonny Sake: And why is that?
The Educator: All he will do is hold you back, and I am a living example of that.
Jonny Sake looks up at The Educator and looks at his shimmering titles slipping out of his bag.
Jonny Sake: And I guess you are going to use those titles as the ‘living example’ bullshit.
The Educator: Yes. But it’s not bullshit. While I was with Mr. Krimzon I had no chance of getting these titles. But the minute I left him these titles found me. It is like he’s a blockade for titles and greatness.
Jonny Sake: No. This is bullshit. He is one of the greatest superstars in the AWC, and even you know it. Deep down.
The Educator: I, know that? Don’t make me laugh. That is like saying that Mr. Krimzon knows how to spell his name. But he is going to stop you reaching your potential, and he thinks that he is better than you.
Jonny Sake: Nah man. Me and Kris are friends…
The Educator stiffens, clearly wanting to correct Sake to “Kris and I”.
Jonny Sake: He wouldn’t think he was better than me and he wouldn’t hold me back.
The Educator: I can see the doubt in your mind. You know that he is holding you back. He wanted you to lose last week; he meant to roll you up and cheat you out of a win.
Jonny Sake: Like he said, you have gotta roll with the punches, a win is a win and a loss is a loss.
The Educator: And you fell for that. Didn’t you see the look in his eyes? He wants to hold you back – he is scared that you will overpower him and take the spotlight (that was never actually on him) away from him.
Jonny Sake gets a concerned look on his face and is kind of considering what The Educator has said.
Jonny Sake: (under his breath) No… no… it can’t be true.
And we go to ringside.
PRIME That Shit!
FEATURING: MIKE WADE, MICKEY MOORE
AUTHOR: MIKE WADE
“Jump Around” by House Of Pain hits and the crowd look a bit perplexed.
Truth Waters: What the hell is this?
George Cassidy: Hmm, I dunno.
Truth Waters: I’m just checking through my script but – OH!
Just as Truth searches for an explanation, from the curtain steps Mike Wade along with his 2 foot 5 inch manager Mickey Moore. On seeing this half the crowd seem to respond with mark-filled applause for the AWC newcomer but for the “smarter” members of the crowd they boo the former PRIME superstar as they know what is coming. Wade, modest as ever, slowly struts to the ring waving and blowing kisses at his “adoring” public. He rolls into the ring and throws his hands in the air and receives a pretty decent welcome.
Truth Waters: It’s AWC’s newest signing and former PRIME superstar Mike Wade. There’s been a lot about Wade on various websites this week –
George Cassidy: I’ve heard a lot of positive things about this guy!
Truth Waters: Oh no. That doesn’t sound good.
Wade signals that he wants a mic and is given one.
Mike Wade: Greetings and sanitations! Some of you know me... and some of you don’t. Actually probably most of you do not. I haven’t been on your TV screens in a while and when I was I was being treated like nothing but a midcard pig. I was in that so-called “big” federation a little while back. You know the one, PRIME.
There are cheers from the crowd.
Mike Wade: God damn it! I hate even mentioning their name and giving them even more publicity then they already have. This is an AWC show for God’s sake, we shouldn’t be mentioning anybody else. That’s why I won’t come out here and plug my own little indy outfit 5ive Star Wrestling and our official website www.5ivestarwrestling.net – that’s not the type of guy I am damn it!
As Wade finishes the blatent plug Mickey, his midget manager, begins tugging on his leg.
Mike Wade: Leave it Mickey shhhh, I’m addressing these smelly Mexicans or whatever they are!
This comment gives Wade his first major heat of the night with the fans unsure what to make of him at first.
Mike Wade: What? Oh OK you guys didn’t like that! Well how do you think I feel? When I was in the “big time” I held their so-called top midcard title for almost a God-damned year; I got nothing in return. Week after week I downed every talentless boob they sent at me. But I was never given my big shot. Every week I was promised “Oh soon Mike, soon it’ll be your time.” I was called the best up and coming superstar in years. The only thing about it was I was up and coming FOR years. Let me tell you people something, I am no midcarder. I am guaranteed money-in-the-bank drawing power. I have the look, the charisma and the in-ring talent of anything or anybody you’ve ever seen, I have won World titles in federations that were once held in as high as a regard as you could be held. But like them all, they all fell. I look at men here like Pierce Lavelle, Chris Crimson, The Educator, the list goes on.
George Cassidy: Who?
Truth Waters: I think he means Kris Krimzon.
Mike Wade: I have studied these men and let me tell you... if this is what AWC has to offer you might as well hand me all those titles now.
There is a rustle in the crowd and a continuous booing. They seem to not be taking any shine whatsoever to the new guy.
Truth Waters: He’s using the same pathetic line as The Educator, but this time, without anything at all to back it up.
Mike Wade: As you may have noticed from my accent, I’m Irish. Yes I know you have Irish guys here already.
The crowd pops at the mention of Eire Og.
Mike Wade: Yeah guys like Paddy O’Shea right? DOOOOOBLIN DAVE~! ?
Truth Waters: He’s referring to one of AWC’s East Atlantic commentators there. You’ll be seeing that team in action for their very first show in two weeks’ time, when Fresh! comes live from Malaga in Spain!
Mike Wade: Oh please. You don’t have Irish people here. What you guys have are plastic Paddys playing up to the stereotypes that come with Irish people. That we’re drunk and fugly. Well although that may be true of the already existing roster members, Mike Wade, like Colin Farrell, is here to show all of you that Irish people are not all fugly pricks. No Irish people are sometimes beautiful, talented and just plain better than all of you!
A “Mike Wade sucks!” chant starts up and spreads throughout the arena. Wade though looks unshaken and actually pleased with himself.
Mike Wade: Yeah as if I give a shit. I’m gonna cut this off cause looking at all you people is depressing me. I’m gonna leave you with this warning. Anyone, ANYONE in AWC that thinks they can take on me then step right up. I am better than anything you have to offer, I am a legend, I am just so damn impressive. And if any of you people doubt it I wanna know who’s gonna be first to get schooled. Because week after week I’m gonna prove just why everybody’s paid just to see Mike Wade!
“Jump Around” by House of Pain hits once more and Wade drops the mic and holds his hands cockily up in the air as he’s showered with boos.
Truth Waters: Cassidy?
George Cassidy: Hmm?
Truth Waters: Don’t you DARE tell me you like this guy.
Backstage
FEATURING: THE FARMER, ALEXANDER STRIDER
AUTHOR: ERIC HALLORAN
The camera is focused on a Milky Way candy bar, hovering inside a vending machine. The camera pulls back, and standing in front of the vending machine is “The Farmer” Mickey Fitz-McCarthy. The crowd recognizes him to a small pop. The Farmer is counting out some loose change in his hand, and scratching his brow.
The Farmer: Mmm. A mahlky way…
The Farmer plugs in a few silvery coins into the machine, and makes his selection. ”Use Correct Change” runs across the machine’s display.
The Farmer: Och! I don’ fekkin’ unnerstan’ all this yank coin. I jus’ wan’ me mahlky way!
Mickey-Fitz McCarthy pushes a few more coins in, but has the same effect, and begins to get a little more frustrated. Punching his fist against the top of the machine, he lets his anger show.
The Farmer: Come on, then! I gave ye me money, give me a snack!
A white hand taps The Farmer on his shoulder.
Voice: I think I can help you…
The Farmer turns around, a smile ready on his face to greet his good Samaritan. Instead, he is met with a double booted drop kick to the upper chest, and is sent sprawling backward. The Farmer’s back smashes through the plastic sheeting of the vending machine, candy flying out like popcorn from an air popper. The Farmer gets stuck in the vending machine, half in limbo, grimacing in pain. Alex Strider leans in to the new AWC recruit.
Alex Strider: Hi. My name’s Alex Strider, and in case you haven’t heard of me, I get away with everything. I want you to give this message to your buddy, Crimson. You tell him that Transatlantic championship or no Transatlantic championship, I am still the big dog around here, and if I want to target his friends, there’s nothing he can do about it. Cheers.
Strider pulls down a Milky Way bar and lays it across The Farmer’s white shirt before he turns and walks away. The Farmer groans, and angrily looks up at his attacker, trying to pull himself out of the vending machine. From out of nowhere, Strider comes flying back into the camera shot, swinging a metal chair across the face of the vending machine. A loud crunching noise is heard between the clanging of metal on metal. The Farmer is left stunned and bleeding.
Alex Strider: One more thing for you to remember to tell your ‘mate’ there, ox. “P.S., Crimson; good luck posting bail in that Dominican ‘pound you in the ass’ prison. We’re all looking forward to your safe return.”
Strider slams the chair down on the ground, and walks off. The camera zooms back in on The Farmer and the busted milky way candy bar that smeared chocolate and caramel over The Farmer’s white t-shirt, and then we move back to ringside.
Truth Waters: A vicious and out of order attack by Alex Strider! What has The Farmer ever done to him?
George Cassidy: He was just proving a point to O’Malec.
Truth Waters: Speaking of O’Malec, will he be here tonight?
George Cassidy: I doubt it. He’ll be busy getting the crap kicked out of him in jail.
Hello!
FEATURING: ANDY MURRAY, ALVARO, MADDY ESTELLE
AUTHOR: ANDY MURRAY
Attentions turn to the backstage area, where we find an unfamiliar face strolling through the corridors. Standing at well over the 6’ marker, the black-haired, clean-shaven gent has a grin plenty firmly across his face, and wears a lime green coloured Hawaiian shirt with a pay of white cargo pants. He appears to be talking to a shorter man, who, carrying a large sports bag, is struggling to keep up. The other gent is well-tanned, is wearing a tuxedo and his face is home to a rather splendid looking moustache.
Taller Guy: So anyway Alvaro, I figured that once I get my own locker room, as well as being the greatest butler in the world, you could help guard the door? You know, in case some crazy fools try and jump the Scottish King of Cool?
The self-proclaimed “Scottish King of Cool” looks over his shoulder towards Alvaro, only to turn around almost immediately as a familiar voice to AWC viewers fills the air.
Maddy Estelle: Excuse me sir, a few moments of your time?
The duo stop in their tracks, allowing Alvaro a much needed breather; he drops the bag, which obviously belongs to the other guy, to the floor, and wipes away the beads of sweat which were gathering on his brow.
Taller Guy: Sure thing, amigo!
Maddy Estelle: I haven’t seen you around here before, you must be new, right? Any words for the fans, Mr. – eh, whoever you are?
Taller Guy: God damn, woman! Haven’t you done your homework!? The name’s Murray, Andy Murray, and this here’s Alvaro…
Murray glances at Alvaro, who is practically panting.
Andy Murray: Say hello, Alvaro…
Alvaro: Olá, senhora.
Andy Murray: Yeah, his English isn’t so great, but whatever. Anyway, yeah, last week, I was sitting at home back in Scotland, when suddenly, I got the call from Mr. Harber… and well, here I am. I’ve come to brighten this place up a little, because damn, there sure are a lot of miserable twits running around here! And who knows, maybe after a while, you could see the Scottish King of Cool’s name engraved on one of this oh-so shiny title belts?
Maddy Estelle: Any plans for the evening then, Murray?
Andy Murray: Not really… I plan on kicking back, having a couple of drinks and enjoying the show! Meanwhile, my man-slave Alvaro here will wade through the crazy amounts of paperwork…
Maddy Estelle: So you won’t be competing tonight?
Andy Murray: God no, don’t be ridiculous; I’ve only just arrived! Next week, that’s when I shall begin cruising through the opposition, and making my doubters look very stupid indeed. But whatever, the Murrayman has work to do! I bid you farewell… Alvaro, lets go!
With that, Alvaro rolls his eyes, and picks the heavy bag up once again, as we leave the scene.
Lead Us Not Into Bleakness
FEATURING: ???
AUTHOR: ???
The crowd in Honduras hushes itself as it is supposed to upon the dimming of the arena lights. Immediately the quietness is overtaken by the speakers shuffling; enough noise to tell you it is on, but nothing is playing through the feed. Whatever comes next is sure to be loud.
Truth Waters: A nice surprise from the schedule. Let’s see what’s going on here...?
A small girl’s faint voice can be heard counting down, until the climax is reached and the silence finally breaks with the intense and quick song the crowd has just been immersed into. “It’s Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door” by Underoath begins to boom from the speakers right out to the rafters.
The style of music isn’t big in Latin America, but it does not play loud enough, nor long enough for the crowd to take an interest in the tone, as a voice begins to talk distinctly over the music.
Voiceover: What do you call an Eastern-stationed wrestling promotion that has as many mediocre qualities and personalities plaguing it that is comparable to the amount of homeless people that actually live inside Maddy Estelle’s birth canal? You call it the AWC!
George Cassidy: Wait a second… did he just say –
Voiceover: My Latino brothers, recognize that what you see before you is every gimmick conducted under the sun! Creativity doesn’t live in those with brains, so it is time for those who don’t use theirs to shine.
Truth Waters: What is this? Is someone coming out?
Voiceover: Turn thinking off, rely on motor functions. RELY ON INSTINCT. It’s time for animals to act, work for their prey…
On the monitor flashes a screen of a baboon, eating the meat off the skull of a boar.
Voiceover: It’s time for the return of the ridiculous gimmick. No more show-boaters with honed technical skill, allowing them to make clever quips about who they’ve defeated through the tired art of sarcasm! We must say no to characters like The Educator, who throw away any hopes of seeing a decent program without capitalizing on human nature’s darker side. THAT IS SO CLICHÉ!
The crowd actually cheers at this.
George Cassidy: Um… that’s not right.
Truth Waters: Who is that talking?! I swear I recognize the voice.
Voiceover: And we don’t want no freaking Irish! The last good thing to come out of Ireland was Emilio Estevez, and that is entirely untrue! I just made it up to prove my point that nothing good can come from Ireland! I can name more racial stereotypes about this little stable of over-reactors, but why do that when appeasing to the crowd is so much easier. In a land full of Catholics, let me teach you, SAY NO TO YOUR PROTESTANT ENEMIES!
Truth Waters: Hey now... that’s a bit edgy after yesterday’s events...
George Cassidy: Don’t be silly, they happened today.
Truth Waters: It’s Wednesday.
George Cassidy: No, Fresh! is on Tuesdays.
Truth Waters: Yeah, but I’m writing this on Wednesday.
George Cassidy: No one’s ‘writing’ anything...
Voiceover: And no way, José, to you Alex Strider. Do you want a religious experience? Watch an Alex Strider promo for thirty seconds, and that’s exactly what it isn’t. There’s no excitement, just a few scoffs to be expected and a lot of sarcastic remarks in attack of your self-esteem. Is that a gimmick? Or is that a defense mechanism? BE THE JUDGE!
Truth Waters: The Judge? Could this be... PTC’s recently-defeated Infinite Gauntlet champion, The Uber Judge?
George Cassidy: I’ll answer that one: no.
Voiceover: Remember, fans, turn off your eyes and ears to mediocrity. Enhance your taste, don’t feel too pompous or high-strung in the release of your lackluster idols. There is a change in the midst, whether you like it or not, you will be immersed once again.
Another image flashes across the screen, a fat wombat sitting in front of a human skull, picking at contents inside.
Voiceover: Don’t think it’s weird, just embrace it.
Kuff McSlade vs Hate
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
Truth Waters: Oooookay, well that was slightly strange. Next up we have a debutant, Kuff McSlade, versus the monster that is Hate. In the sporting world, this is something we would call a baptism of fire.
George Cassidy: It has to be that idiot Pearl’s fault. I mean, you’re supposed to nurture new talent – not destroy them on the first night by that thing there!
Truth Waters: Well… good luck to McSlade then, let’s hand it over to James Brunt.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Atlanta, Georgia, weighing in at 287 pounds…
The lights dim to darkness. “Come With Me” by Puff Daddy blasts over the PA system. Once the song kicks in, red pyros explode, shooting in an X fashion over the ramp. Kuff McSlade appears through the smoke.
James Brunt: …KUFF MCSLADE!
The three – McSlade, Bostwhick and Sean Quinn – walk slowly to the ring, Kuff nodding to a few of the fans. He climbs onto the ring and steps over the rope.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds...
Without any warning, Agoraphobic Nosebleed's "North American Corpse Desecration" begins to grind away at the speakers, filling the audio system with utter aural chaos. Hate appears in the entranceway, with a black gas mask covering his head and wearing a long, black trenchcoat. As he walks to the ringside, Hate shouts verbal abuse at the fans through his mask before removing it at the ringside, revealing his painted head. Hate slides into the ring and takes off his trenchcoat before putting both the coat and the mask away, utterly concentrated on the match ahead.
James Brunt: …HATE!
The two men stare each other down from their opposing corners. Hate lets out a roar so Kuff McSlade waves his hand in front of his face and offers Hate a pack of Tic-Tacs. Hate walks over slowly and slaps the packet out of his hand then peers up to intimidate McSlade once more but Kuff McSlade kicks him squarely between the legs.
George Cassidy: Look! Another of Pearl’s supposed ‘talent’ pulling off another cheap move!
Truth Waters: But the bell hasn’t rung yet – all’s fair. Even Tic-Tacs.
Kuff McSlade shouts to the referee to ring the bell to start the match. Davies reluctantly signals to the bell keeper to get this match underway. As soon as it rings, Kuff McSlade jumps into the air and comes down with a flying punch to the head of Hate, who is still on the ground groping his groin. McSlade sees that Hate is close to the ring apron so he runs off the opposing rope, bounces back and baseball slides Hate to the outside.
George Cassidy: Putting Hate outside where he’ll be able to use weapons is an idiotic decision as we’ve seen before.
Kuff McSlade is still inside the ring and sees that Hate is stirring from the outside. ONE! McSlade times it until Hate’s on one knee then climbs the nearest turnbuckle and jumps off with a double axe handle in mind. But Hate catches him! TWO! Hate smiles beside himself with McSlade in his arms. Hate looks at the whimpering McSlade for a split second before slamming him into the barricade with an overhead belly-to-belly suplex!
Truth Waters: The fact that Hate is outweighted yet he is still catching the larger McSlade just shows the inhuman strength this thing has. Devastating throw into the security wall.
THREE!
George Cassidy: What he’s done wrong is think that Hate has a crotch and that his hefty kick to it would put Hate down. Hate was only playing possum.
The imposing figure of Hate looms over the fallen McSlade who is clutching his back in pain. Hate grabs McSlade around the midsection and lifts him into the air. FOUR! He then drops him, allowing his chin to smash against the top of the barricade. Hate however isn’t finished. He climbs up onto the ring apron and jumps off and connects with McSlade’s chest with a vicious leg drop. FIVE! Kuff McSlade seems to struggle for air for a few seconds and then rolls over. He struggles to his feet but is put straight back down with a running big boot from Hate. SIX!
George Cassidy: Whoa! Hate is giving absolutely nothing to McSlade in this match. Look at the dominance here.
Truth Waters: Although McSlade is new, he should have known that outside the ring is Hate’s backyard.
SEVEN! Hate surveys the crowd before grabbing McSlade and sliding him back into the ring. McSlade rolls onto his feet however and connects a running dropkick with Hate’s chest as he climbs back into the ring. But Hate holds onto the top rope and when McSlade swings a punch, Hate catches it with his free hand and squeezes.
Truth Waters: My God! Look at the power of this monster!
Hate pushes McSlade’s fist away and he staggers back, whilst nursing his fist. Hate begins to step back into the ropes but McSlade runs towards him and kicks him squarely on the nose. Hate falls forward into the ring holding his face. McSlade knows to attack quickly and begins to stomp on the back of Hate’s head. McSlade moves to Hate’s legs and fixes himself so he can apply a Boston crab. After McSlade applies the lock, the referee gets down quickly and asks Hate if he wants to quit. Hate lets him know that he doesn’t by spitting in his face.
Truth Waters: Oh! Hate just spit in Aaron Davies’ face!
Hate simply reaches out and grabs the rope and the referee, wiping spittle angrily from his face, forces McSlade to break the hold.
Truth Waters: Good ring awareness by Hate but McSlade –
George Cassidy: ...should have known to move him away from the ropes first, yes, I know.
Truth Waters: I wouldn’t worry, McSlade’s rough edges will smoothen out after a few matches. Anyway look at the situation at the minute, he has dominance over Hate.
McSlade seems a little frustrated at the unsuccessful hold and he once again begins to stomp at the back of Hate’s head; Hate is trying to protect it with his hands. McSlade steps back a few steps and allows a slightly dazed Hate to get to his feet. He turns around to face McSlade but is caught with a powerful kitchen sink to the gut and Hate falls onto his back. Kuff moves quickly, bounces off the ropes and leg drops Hate. McSlade rushes towards the turnbuckle and climbs onto the top rope, turns around and leaps off with a moonsault. Hate begins to move but his size slows him down and he’s caught awkwardly by McSlade who has also been hurt in the process as can be seen through his clutching of his stomach. Both men are lying face up on the mat.
Truth Waters: High risk manoeuvre there by the man they call The Mecca. But if he doesn’t get up first then I doubt if it’s going to be worth the effort.
George Cassidy: I believe that no one over 6’ never mind 6’7” should try moves like that! They just can’t pull them off!
The two men are lying for a further few seconds before Hate rolls over slowly onto his knees. Kuff McSlade eventually begins to stir as Hate pulls himself to his feet. Hate moves over to The Mecca with anger on his face. He grabs McSlade’s ankles but Kuff pushes hard with his feet forcing Hate back. McSlade quickly springs to his feet and manages to duck a clothesline from Hate. Hate stops before he reaches the ropes and turns around but is caught with a beautiful superkick from McSlade.
Truth Waters: Wow! Kuff McSlade is really starting to make this match his own.
George Cassidy: I have to admit, McSlade knows his Bruce Lee.
Hate hasn’t fallen to the mat from the superkick because of the presence of the ropes behind him. Hate staggers back off the ropes but McSlade is quick on the scene and hooks Hate’s leg for a fisherman suplex to pin. McSlade holds the technique in a fine bridge. The referee falls to the mat quickly and begins the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Kickout!
Truth Waters: McSlade almost secured a debut win there over the most unlikely of opponents Hate with that fine pin.
George Cassidy: Are you kidding? If you think Hate’s going to fall to the most flimsy of pins you’re very much mistaken.
McSlade looks perplexed as he looks at the resilient Hate. McSlade laxly grabs Hate around the neck to pull him up but is suddenly grabbed in a bearhug by Hate. Hate then runs with him in his arms and smashes him into the corner. Hate head butts him once and then stands back and allows McSlade to stagger out holding his head. Hate then grabs McSlade and plants McSlade’s head with a Death Valley driver!
Truth Waters: Jesus Christ! Did you hear the impact McSlades head made on that mat!
George Cassidy: You’ve got to watch Hate! He can spring a devastating move like that from anywhere.
Hate cockily pulls himself to his feet and is met with a series of boos from the crowd. Hate only sneers at them and turns back to McSlade who seems to be out of it. He falls onto his knees for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Truth Waters: But McSlade doesn’t want to give up and the crowd is showing their admiration as they chant his name.
Hate seems greatly perturbed by the crowd and roars angrily at them. He then turns his anger to McSlade and lifts him up aggressively. He puts him on one shoulder, steps back so his back is against the far rope and then runs. Just before he reaches the other rope he throws McSlade like a javelin and spears his head into the outside barricade! Blood begins to seep from a gash along his hairline.
Truth Waters: Did you just see what I saw? How does someone – something 50 pounds lighter then McSlade do something like that?
George Cassidy: I think big Hate is fashioning himself for the next Olympics with that throw! He’s obviously been practising.
Hate smiles at the damage caused and exits the ring despite the shout of the referee to stop where he is. With reluctance, all Davies can do is start the count-out: ONE! Hate is about to stomp on Kuff McSlade when the jeers from the crowd force him to turn around. One man standing just behind the barricade where Kuff lays is holding a sign saying, “Hate is a bully”. TWO!Hate hisses through his teeth and grabs the sign from the man. He then plants the man on the top of the head with it!
Truth Waters: He can’t do that! Hate just assaulted a fan.
George Cassidy: Oh, no... a lawsuit, or worse, another protest...
Hate then turns his attention back to McSlade. He raises the sign over his head and comes down hard on McSlade’s back. Hate continues to batter him with the sign until the hard plastic of it begins to slip off the frame. THREE! Aaron Davies frantically motions for Hate to stop, but the monster just glares at him.
Truth Waters: Hate seems to be delivering a message to the crowd with that little stunt.
George Cassidy: Yeah, I think it’s, shut your mouths before you get what that guy got.
Truth Waters: He’s now taking the fight to The Mecca with that illegal weapon, and no way is Aaron Davies brave enough to disqualify Hate.
Hate turns to the ring, goes underneath the ring apron and pulls out a steel chair that he lays on the ground. FOUR! Hate then grabs McSlade in a chokehold and pulls him off the ground. He maintains the choke as he raises McSlade slowly above his head with the intention of chokeslamming onto the chair but just before he does, McSlade seems to come round and knees Hate on the face. Hate tries to keep his grip but fails and McSlade falls onto his feet.
Truth Waters: The great escape!
FIVE! McSlade, who is obviously still reeling from the javelin shot, dropkicks Hate into the ring apron. However the move does little damage to Hate as he stays on his feet. He runs over and stamps on the back of McSlade’s head as he begins to get off the ground. SIX! Hate grabs McSlade’s ankles, swings him around once and then releases him so that he lands in the ring. Hate slides in quickly behind him.
Truth Waters: Right, something’s not right here.
George Cassidy: Indeed. Either Hate is an alien with unlimited strength or the writer really messed up.
Truth Waters: The what?
George Cassidy: Shush!
As Hate slides back in, McSlade begins to stir from the floor. As Hate moves towards him McSlade swings around and swipes Hate’s feet causing the smaller man to fall onto his back heavily. McSlade is up first and as Hate gets up, he hits him with the X Kick!
Truth Waters: The X Kick! What a recovery from McSlade.
George Cassidy: A jumping crescent kick – McSlade finally showing his martial arts style.
McSlade pulls Hate to his feet and allows Hate to stand dazed. McSlade then approaches Hate and grabs him in position for his finisher, the Jagged X.
Truth Waters: The Jagged X is coming up! This is going to end it!
However, Hate shows his strength once again by grabbing McSlade form behind and German suplexing him. Hate stalks McSlade by circling him. Then when McSlade gets to his feet, Hate plants a boot into his stomach causing him to keel over. Hate grabs him before he falls and positions him for a double underhook piledriver. Hate then plants McSlade’s head onto the mat!
Truth Waters: The Eleventh Commandment! This is it!
Hate falls to his knees and covers McSlade.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner… HATE!
George Cassidy: Well, this victory was inevitable wasn’t it? Although McSlade outweighs Hate, Kuff lacks the killer instinct that The Fifth Horseman has.
Truth Waters: McSlade was so eager to apply his finisher that he forgot how weak he would be at stopping Hate from performing his. However McSlade certainly has made an impressive debut, and outperformed Hate for a portion of the match.
Fear Of The Dark
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, SECURITY GUARD, MASKED MAN, MINIONS
AUTHOR: MICHAEL DOHERTY
The setting opens again to the hospital room Paddy O’Shea is inhabiting. The security guard is now the only person stationed with him and Paddy is reading a magazine called Closer.
Paddy O'Shea: Amazin’. Hey, buddy, did ye know tha’ yer pupil can enlarge to one hundred times its original size.
Security Guard: I didn’t know that sir but that’s very interesting.
Paddy O'Shea: Are ye alright there?
Security Guard: I’m fine… it’s just I need to go to the bathroom.
Paddy O'Shea: Well feckin’ hell, go ahead!
Security Guard: But I was told not to –
Paddy O'Shea: Aye won’ tell anybody, jus’ go.
The security guard reluctantly exits the room but closes and locks the door before he goes to stop anybody from getting in. After hearing the click, O’Shea turns back to his magazine, which he reads with increased concentration.
Paddy O'Shea: The eye can see o’er a distance o’ –
Suddenly the lights flick off leaving complete darkness in the room. The sound of Paddy’s heavy breathing can be heard but suddenly the sound of a number of peoples breathing can be heard. The lights flick on for a split second to reveal Paddy’s father, Danny O’Shea, being suspended two inches from Paddy’s face. His mouth is gagged and his eyes are desperate. The lights suddenly flick back off to complete darkness.
Paddy O'Shea: D –
Paddy’s scream for his father is suddenly cut off. The sound of that same robotic voice that the masked man employed last week is suddenly heard.
Masked Man: Please Paddy… there’s no need for a shouting match is there?
The voice seems calm and pleasant.
Masked Man: Now Paddy, I think it’s about time we actually had a little chat face to face. But how can you have a face-to-face chat with no light? Lights!
Suddenly, the light in the room returns to reveal the masked man sitting on the seat beside Paddy’s bed. Danny O’Shea is being suspended by a cord attached at one end to the roof and at the other to his trousers. There are two other masked people holding Paddy’s arms down, one other gagging Paddy with a towel and about four others standing at various positions in the room.
Masked Man: How are you keeping Paddy? Good? Enjoying yourself? How’s the food here?
The masked man’s voice is again pleasant and calm. He looks at O’Shea whose eyes are desperate despite the bruising surrounding them. The man purposely waits for an answer from Paddy.
Masked Man: You won’t answer? Oh Paddy, that makes me sad especially when I thought we were friends. Well, if you’re not my friend you’re my enemy and I do have a short temper.
The masked man stands up and then pushes Danny’s leg causing him to swing around.
Masked Man: What’s wrong Danny? Don’t you like hanging around with your son?
There’s a series of high-pitched laughter from the minions in the room
Masked Man: ENOUGH!
The masked man bends down over Paddy so his face is right up against his.
Masked Man: Paddy, you will never have your father back. Next week on Fresh! in fact will be the last time you’ll see him… you don’t understand what I mean? Oh well then you’ll have to wait and see. You wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise would you? And then, when the burden of your father is off my back, I’ll turn my full attention to you. Mentally and physically Paddy, remember? That’s how I’m going to hurt you. But for now, how about we give you a little taster of the physical side?
The various minions begin to move in. O’Shea closes his eyes but the silence is suddenly broken by the sound of the key turning in the lock. The lights flick off just as the door opens and the security guard moves his hand about the wall for the light switch. He flicks the light on to reveal the room has been vacated by the intruders. The scene fades as the security guard runs over to see what’s happened to the obviously petrified Irishman.
Krimzon/Sake vs Coleman/Sanders
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
“Ohio Is For Lovers” by Hawthorne Heights begins to blare over the speakers as pyrotechnics go off on the stage and Kris Krimzon and Jonny Sake step through the curtain.
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match. Introducing first, from St. Louis, Missouri and Manhattan, New York respectively, at a combined weight of 576 pounds... KRIS KRIMZON and JONNY SAKE!
Truth Waters: Krimzon and Sake have their first match as a duo coming up.
George Cassidy: The 7’2” Jonny Sake is towering over his mentor, Kris Krimzon – the point of whom I have never quite seen.
Truth Waters: Yeah, well, you tend to miss a lot.
Soundgarden’s “Pretty Noose” is next to rock the Gimnasio Municipal, its strains blaring from the oversized amplifiers either side of the staging.
Truth Waters: The speakers in here are great, don’t you think?
George Cassidy: Yeah. Honduras is famed for its loudspeakers...
James Brunt: And their opponent, from Woodside, New York, weighing in at 222 pounds... EDDIE SANDERS!
Sanders arrogantly struts down the ramp, the fans booing his every move.
Truth Waters: Eddie Sanders was one of the ‘golden three’ in Neon Wrestling to clock up a substantial winning streak, along with Phil Botwin and AWC’s very own Kris Krimzon. However, he hasn’t quite made the same impact here.
George Cassidy: He’s made more impact than Krimzon.
Truth Waters: To be fair, Krimzon also hasn’t done as well as we might have thought here in AWC.
Referee Michael Ryan ushers Sake and Krimzon into one corner of the ring, away from the opposite turnbuckle where Sanders is climbing the ring steps with a sneer on his face. His music now fades away to make way for the music – or rather, sound effects of a burning bonfire – of Drake Coleman.
James Brunt: Finally, his partner, from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 189 pounds... “THE BONFIRE” DRAKE COLEMAN!
Coleman emerges, his entire body covered in tight yellowing bandages as per usual.
George Cassidy: This guy scares me just a little.
Truth Waters: Don’t be a pussy. I’m not scared. Pah.
Pierre Hyde: Yes?
Truth Waters: What... who are you?
Pierre Hyde: PaH – Pierre Alexander Hyde.
Truth Waters: Get back to work.
Pierre Hyde: On what?
Truth Waters: Match writing!
The bell rings.
George Cassidy: Kris Krimzon has taken the lead over Jonny Sake, choosing to begin this match against Eddie Sanders.
Truth Waters: Sake does tend to let Krimzon walk all over him.
George Cassidy: A situation which The Educator seems to be trying to exploit, judging by his actions tonight.
Sanders moves casually towards Krimzon, who grabs him by the tights and tries for a hiptoss, but Sanders holds his weight down and elbows his opponent hard in the spine. Krimzon staggers away, doubled up, and Eddie Sanders rolls him up from behind.
ONE!
Krimzon quickly escapes.
George Cassidy: Sanders looked for the early pinfall.
Truth Waters: Trying to catch Krimzon cold, but Krimzon is clearly...
George Cassidy: Hot...?
Truth Waters: I didn’t say it.
Sanders whips Krimzon to the ropes, and bends down to thrust a shoulder into his abdomen as he returns. Eddie Sanders now propels himself off the ropes and scores a running bulldog.
George Cassidy: Did you hear the crack of Krimzon’s neck?
Truth Waters: Oh come on now, Cassidy. For a big neckbreaker, maybe. But a bulldog after fifteen seconds of the match? YOU’RE OVER UBERHYPING~!
George Cassidy: What does that mean?
Truth Waters: Ask Hyde.
Pierre Hyde: No, don’t; I’m busy.
Satisfied with his early efforts, Sanders slaps the hand of Drake Coleman, who, not without difficulty, enters the ring. He gives Krimzon a couple of stomps to the chest before the retard (can I say that?) rights himself and slaps Coleman across the face. The Bonfire’s reaction is to kick Krimzon savagely in the stomach and give him a hard palm strike to the forehead, knocking Krimzon down to the mat.
Truth Waters: Drake Coleman shows us he’s skilled in the martial arts.
Coleman now grabs Krimzon’s legs and throws himself backwards, propelling Krimzon over his own body to crash into the turnbuckle!
Truth Waters: Catapult!
George Cassidy: Would that work in a real fight? I ask you.
The crowd cheer wildly for this move, however, and as Krimzon staggers backwards following the impact, he is rolled up from behind for the second time in the match.
ONE!
TWO!
Krimzon kicks out on the second count.
George Cassidy: They see Krimzon as vulnerable, and the patched-together team of Drake Coleman and Eddie Sanders seems to have agreed to go for the pin at every opportunity.
Truth Waters: They don’t want to face the monster that is Jonny “The Bi –
George Cassidy: Don’t say it.
Truth Waters: ...Jonny Sake.
George Cassidy: Better.
Sake is leaning over the ropes, urging Krimzon to get up and tag him in. Krimzon sees him and nods as he gets back up, but receives a kick to the head from Coleman. Slightly dazed, Krimzon is slow to react to Coleman’s tie-up, and before his opponent knows what is going on, The Bonfire has suplexed him back to the canvas.
Truth Waters: Textbook vertical suplex.
George Cassidy: And he goes for yet another early pinfall.
ONE!
There is a quick escape.
Truth Waters: You’d think they’d realise that Krimzon isn’t a pushover.
George Cassidy: Er...
Truth Waters: Seven consecutive victories before his first loss in Neon speaks for itself!
George Cassidy: Neon speaks for itself.
Coleman straightens up and heads back to his own corner to tag Sanders back in.
Truth Waters: Coleman and Sanders, who may not have even met before this match, are working more cohesively as a unit than the ‘friends’ Kris Krimzon and Jonny Sake.
Sanders comes through the ropes and pulls Krimzon to his feet, not allowing him to answer the now-desperate call of Jonny Sake. He throws him into the Sanders/Coleman corner, and Coleman gets in a few body shots in tandem with his partner before Michael Ryan insists that he leave the ring.
George Cassidy: Ganging up on Krimzon in the corner. That is how a good duo functions!
Truth Waters: Krimzon needs just a second’s rest to get space to tag out.
Sanders ambitiously hoists Krimzon onto the top rope and lifts his arms into the air, taunting the Honduras crowd, who respond with derision. Sneering, Sanders mounts the turnbuckle himself and places his hands on Krimzon’s shoulders.
Truth Waters: He’s going for the Frankensteiner!
George Cassidy: Go Sanders...!
Krimzon lifts a knee into Sanders’ ribs and Sanders halts, winded. Krimzon plants his arm around the head of his opponent and tries desperately to move into a better position to work something as Sake cheers him on.
Truth Waters: Krimzon knees Sanders in the chest and he’s looking to counter with a big move.
Sanders, however, thrusts his head into Krimzon’s breastbone, and once more, the momentum is with him, as he stands straight, this time looking for a superplex.
George Cassidy: It’s Sanders once more, with the superplex...
Krimzon jumps backwards, pulling Sanders down with him and impaling Sanders’ body across the top of the turnbuckle and ringpost! Krimzon himself lands on his feet, but the impulse is so heavy that he cannot sustain a standing position and falls sideways, breaking his fall with his hands.
Truth Waters: What a move! Krimzon just dropped backwards off the top rope, maintaining the collar-and-elbow tie-up that had been Sanders’ set-up for a superplex variant, and so slamming Sanders’ chest across the piece of steel joining the turnbuckle to the ringpost proper!
George Cassidy: Stunning mistake.
Ryan has now reached the second of his ten possible counts to end the match as Krimzon reaches his feet at ringside. Sake congratulates him and holds out a hand to lift him onto the apron, but Krimzon ignores him and slides into the ring, watching Sanders lie motionless across the turnbuckle.
Truth Waters: Now here’s your chance, Krimzon! TAG!
The buzz of the crowd urges him on, as Sake screams at his partner, waving his hand in the air. Drake Coleman, unnoticed by the majority, makes his way round the apron to see to his own partner as Krimzon stares wide-eyes at Jonny Sake, milking the reaction from 5,000 screaming fans.
Truth Waters: Quit wasting time! Just do it!
A slow smile comes to Krimzon’s face, and he makes a fateful decision.
And when Kris Krimzon makes fateful decisions...
You just know something’s going to go wrong.
Possessed by some wild idea, Krimzon blinks once, twice – and shakes his head.
George Cassidy: He’s not tagging out!
Truth Waters: Sake is incredulous! In fact – more than that, he’s livid!
Krimzon heads over to the turnbuckle and pulls Sanders roughly off it; Sanders lands awkwardly on his feet against the corner post. At the same time, Sake calls to referee Michael Ryan and gestures angrily.
George Cassidy: Sake is complaining to Michael Ryan about his partner, Krimzon...
Truth Waters: Well, what’s he going to do? He’s the referee!
Ryan is almost laughing as he explains slowly to Sake what his job does and doesn’t entail. Unfortunately, he is missing one crucial part of what a referee should be doing, and that is paying attention – for Drake Coleman has just poked Kris Krimzon in the eye.
Truth Waters: Coleman attacks Krimzon!
Coleman comes through the apron and uses some martial arts chops to further disorientate Kris Krimzon. A moment later, he whips Krimzon to the ropes, and as he returns hits The Burn!
George Cassidy: The Burn! An amazing palm strike to the jaw!
Truth Waters: Krimzon is down like a shot.
Coleman now slowly exits the ring as Sanders comes to in the corner, and sees Krimzon’s prone form. With a glint in his eye, he ascends the ropes he is leaning on.
George Cassidy: Coleman leaves the ring – and NOW Ryan turns round.
Having worked out what happened, Sake taps Ryan on the shoulder and starts complaining all the more loudly. With a laugh, the referee brushes him off, assuming he simply wants to continue discussing the failings of Kris Krimzon, and watches as Sanders executes his perfect Infra-Red finisher from the top rope.
Truth Waters: INFRA-RED! It’s all over!
Michael Ryan drops to the mat and counts the fall as Sanders covers.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
George Cassidy: Three-count! Sanders wins!
Truth Waters: Krimzon and Sake defeated.
Coleman, his job done, walks straight to the back, not stopping to congratulate his partner, too preoccupied by some of his bandages, which have come loose. Sanders mounts the turnbuckle and plays to the fans, milking every second of this attention and seemingly impervious to the boos pouring down on him.
James Brunt: The winners... DRAKE COLEMAN AND EDDIE SANDERS!
Sake enters the ring and stares down at Krimzon, who reaches out for a hand up. Sake raises an eyebrow and just looks at his friend and mentor, with a look of confusion, disgust...
And hatred.
Fresh!man
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, JAMES BRUNT
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The happy riffs of “Bohemian Like You” boom out from the Gimnasio Municipal’s fearsome set of speakers as the adoring crowd come to their feet for the entrance of the Entertainment Manager, David Harber.
George Cassidy: Here comes Pearl, but he isn’t due out here until after the main event.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring... DAVID “PEARL” HARBER!
Harber strides down the ramp with a smile on his face, looking at the fans to his left and nodding slowly as he sees their praise for him.
Truth Waters: Now, now. Don’t let it go to your head.
George Cassidy: You think that too?
Truth Waters: I, Cassidy, was kidding. Harber’s the most level-headed guy I know.
George Cassidy: Not now he’s got all insecure about people making decisions for him...
Truth Waters: Got something to tell us, Cassidy?
George Cassidy: Of course not.
Truth Waters: Then shut up.
George Cassidy: But talking is my job.
Truth Waters: Talk in your head, then.
David Harber comes through the ropes and the ring announcer hands him the microphone.
Pearl: Hello HONDURAS!
George Cassidy: Cue the cheapest pop of the century.
Truth Waters: Meh, we’re doing Honduras, no one else does. May as well make the most of it.
The crowd goes wild for Pearl’s greeting.
Pearl: I thought I’d come out a little early to announce tonight’s Fresh!man, because I’ve already got someone in mind, someone who’s made a big impact in the last couple of weeks and has come good in his first genuine test tonight. I’m sure the competitors in our forthcoming main event won’t mind... after all, they’ve already got a reward to aim at: a shot at PIERCE LAVELLE!
The fans cheer their champion.
George Cassidy: That’s not fair! He’s denying Nash and Strider the chance to be Fresh!man!
Truth Waters: Bite me.
Cassidy bites Waters.
Truth Waters: Ow!
No, he didn’t really. I was kidding.
Pearl: James, if I could have... THE TOP HAT O’ DOOM~!
Brunt takes off his top hat with a gleaming smile, and empties a handful of little bits of paper into it. Harber reaches into the hat and draws a number.
Pearl: Ah! Number two. So, tonight’s Fresh!man, and the third and final participant in the Three Way Fury match for the Frontier title... that will take place as soon as we’ve got that title belt back from the person who stole it...
Harber glances around.
Truth Waters: Yes, Ed. You. Give it back!
Pearl: TIM SHIPLEY!
George Cassidy: Shipley?
Truth Waters: Shipley!
This announcement garners a generally positive reaction from the fans, who have been warming to this shy yet likeable character since his attack on Alex Strider at Solarized.
Truth Waters: Tim Shipley is tonight’s Fresh!man!
The Dandy Warhols’ music plays again as Pearl goes back off down the ramp.
George Cassidy: Undeserved! What about Steven Xandrous, who did INCREDIBLY well to beat one of the best wrestlers in the world, The Educator?
Truth Waters: The Educator needs to be FORCED into giving those title belts back, because I cannot wait to see Crimson O’Malec, Pact and Tim Shipley fight it out for the Frontier title!
For God's "Sake"...
FEATURING: KRIS KRIMZON, JONNY SAKE
AUTHOR: JAMES JOHNSON
The camera sets on Kris Krimzon walking down the corridor to his locker room. Krimzon’s head is slightly red and bruised from the tag match he has just taken part in with his partner Jonny Sake. Krimzon arrives at his locker room and pushes the eggshell white door open. He walks up to the metallic wall locker and puts in the code.
Kris Krimzon: Erm…1-3-5-9?
Krimzon puts in the code, that he is clearly unsure of, and somehow the door just pops open.
Voice: (quietly) Lucky S.O.B.
Krimzon turns round with an startled look on his face. He scans the room while he is stood back to the locker. After a few seconds of sure panic from Kris, he turns round and grabs an old black Krimzon Karnage Inc. shirt from his locker and slides it onto his bare torso.
Kris Krimzon: Jonny? Where are you? Did you get lost putting your shirt on?
Jonny Sake walks round the corner despite the effort of trying to get his somewhat retarded partner to come to him.
Jonny Sake: (angrily) No Kris. We all have a brain… unlike you.
Kris Krimzon: Wow. Calm down man. What made you so angry?
Jonny Sake: You did.
Kris Krimzon: Why? What did I do?
Jonny Sake: Were you not in that ring? Oh no… I was the one that was not in the ring.
Sake’s body is starting to tense and a sense of rage is building up in his voice.
Kris Krimzon: Are you on about the match we just had?
Sake walks over to Krimzon and picks him off the floor and holds Kris’s body against the wall that is behind him.
Jonny Sake: (in a blind rage) Yes Kris, I am on about the match that we just had. Drake and Eddie were all over you, and you didn’t go for the tag.
Kris Krimzon: (in a panic) Hey. Hey! I just did what I thought was the best for the team. (under his breath) And for me.
Jonny Sake: You know what. Educator was right about you.
Sake flings Krimzon’s head into the wall and walks off out of the locker room. He walks down the corridor back to his own locker room, and locks the door, so the camera’s cannot get in.
Kris Krimzon: What did Educator say?
Krimzon shakes his head as the feed ends.
Truth Waters: Wow… Krimzon just can’t hang on to a partner at the moment.
Alexander Strider vs Ellis Nash
STIPULATION: SINGLES - #1 CONTENDERSHIP TO TRANSATLANTIC CHAMPIONSHIP
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHORS: DJ HEDLEY, LARA CLARKE AND PIERRE HYDE
The ring entrance goes to wash in red light, and “Will You Smile Again For Me?” by …And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead begins to play. Golden pyrotechnics stream down from the ceiling and crash in front of the ring entrance. The big Atlantic Wrestling Club video screen spells out the name “Alex Strider” in bold red on black, immediately followed by clips of the technical wrestler in previous matches, highlighting his precision and submission prowess.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match, and is for the number-one contendership to the Transatlantic championship! Introducing first, from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds... ALEXANDER STRIDER!
George Cassidy: Strider is taking the first step towards regaining his Transatlantic title.
Strider emerges from backstage, eyeing the crowd, a grim smile across his face. He stalks down to the ring, posing as he stands one leg on the bottom rope, one leg on the middle rope, his hands raised in the air.
George Cassidy: Doesn’t he just look full of confidence? I can’t see him losing tonight.
Truth Waters: Even though he’s up against your obsession Ellis Nash?
George Cassidy: Ooh, it is a tough one. But Strider is a former champion... he’s desperate for his belt back... he’s more focused... and he’s near twice her weight.
The lonely intonation of a single violin hits the speakers, spotlights flickering white and violet in color against the stage. Suddenly, the melody is joined by the drums and guitar behind it and the chords become clear. As the music picks up in intensity, a large explosion engulfs the stage with white and violet sparks. In the background, "Angellore" by Tristania plays in a fury.
When summer's gone flee my angel
Winterwinds they might lead you far away
Beyond the pale horizon, a greaven silence
Over dreams to my heart yet not remain
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 117 pounds... ELLIS NASH!
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash has beaten Pierce Lavelle in the past, but when she had the chance to earn herself a title shot by beating the then-champion Alex Strider, she failed – despite his insistence on not hitting her directly. I notice he’s made no such claim tonight.
Smoke bellows from the area where the explosion lit up the dark arena. As the smoke dissipates, Ellis Nash appears at the top of the stage, jogging in place. She drinks in the crowd's disapproval of her appearance with a simple smirk, the corners of her lips curling almost tauntingly.
George Cassidy: He’s got to focus, that’s why. The loss of the title belt could have hit him very hard, and this time he’s going to throw chivalry and court cases aside to make sure he wins the opportunity for one more shot at Lavelle.
Ellis, through the sparks which fly at her sides, begins her descent to the ring. Upon reaching the ring, Nash rolls under the bottom rope and stands almost placidly, waiting for her opponent.
George Cassidy: Ooh, and she’s already changing my mind about tonight’s outcome... so cool, calm, collected...
The bell rings, and the match gets underway, with Nash and Strider heading toward each other and ending up in a grapple. Strider tries a simple takedown, but Nash escapes the attempt and elbows Strider in the face.
Truth Waters: And this match, which will result in a Transatlantic title shot for the winner, gets underway with Ellis Nash elbowing Strider in the face.
George Cassidy: Alright. I’ve made my mind up. I think that Alex Strider will win this match, meaning Ellis Nash loses, which to be honest is a shame as for a change there’s two wrestlers in the main event which I actually appreciate the presence of.
Truth Waters: And that is a rarity.
Nash, with the momentum from the elbow, whips Strider off the ropes and attempts to hit him with a one-armed clothesline. Strider evades the attack, instead hitting Nash with a hard kick and a reverse neckbreaker. After a stomp or two to the fallen body of the female, Strider raises her up and knocks her straight back down with a side leg trip takedown, going for the cover.
ONE!
Truth Waters: No chivalry THERE.
Ellis quickly kicks out, and the two rise to their feet, Nash hitting Strider with a quick spinning roundhouse kick, and using the opportunity to try and suplex the much-heavier former Transatlantic champion. Nash fails, and Strider counters with a lariat and quick leg drop.
Truth Waters: The last time these two met, Strider refused to attack Nash directly, but now that a shot at the Transatlantic championship is on the line things are very different. He’s all too eager, in fact, to pursue direct aggression...
George Cassidy: Just don’t damage her, Alex!
The Mongoose allows the opposition to rise to her feet, before kneeing her in the (rather nice) chest and hitting her with the flying head scissors. The move makes Nash stagger, allowing him a chance to full nelson suplex her. The move takes her down, and Strider attempts another cover.
Truth Waters: Full nelson suplex with a second pinfall attempt.
ONE!
Nash again kicks out after one, but Strider is first up and uses the opportunity to play a heavy stomp to her chest. He attempts a second, but Nash manages to move and drags Strider to the ground with a leg sweep. Having lost the advantage, both rise to their feet and Nash proceeds to elbow Strider in the face, for the second time in the match.
Truth Waters: Strider seems to be in a hurry, whereas Nash appears to be happy to just carry on as things are, and take it slowly. A clear contrast, perhaps, in their fighting styles.
George Cassidy: For once, we have a good match here, without any crowd-pleasing, talentless yobs ruining the card.
Truth Waters: “Crowd-pleasing, talentless yobs” meaning whom?
George Cassidy: Just about anyone who isn’t Ellis Nash or Alexander Strider.
Truth Waters: How about your favourite? Ed? Is he a yob?
George Cassidy: Oh, don’t be silly!
Nash hits Strider with a powerful jumping knee strike and roundhouse kick, forcing him into the turnbuckle. Strider, now cornered, suffers several kicks before being suplexed back into the centre of the ring.
Truth Waters: Powerful suplex from Nash, on a man who is almost twice her weight.
George Cassidy: She’s got immense strength.
Nash plays a knee drop to the chest, before going for her first cover of the match.
George Cassidy: And now, Ellis goes for a shot at the Transatlantic title.
Strider kicks out before the one count, and quickly rises to his feet, grappling with Nash before a snapmare puts him back on the floor to feel another Nash knee drop.
Truth Waters: Strider won’t be that easy to beat, and you get the sense that it’ll take something special to end this one quickly.
George Cassidy: He kicked out BEFORE the one count! I can’t help but sit in awe of Alex Strider!
Truth Waters: As we all expect by now.
Nash raises Strider to his feet, only for the first ever champion of the main AWC belt to hit a few punches to gain the advantage, hitting Nash with an underhook suplex and locking in the clover leaf leg-lock.
Truth Waters: Strider locks in a submission move; Nash might have trouble here. Rope break doesn’t seem to be an option.
Nash struggles with the leg lock, but manages to break free rapidly and hits Strider with a kick to the face, rising to her feet first and hitting Strider with a clothesline after he eventually stands up.
George Cassidy: She nimbly escapes the cloverleaf and hits a stiff clothesline. Now looking for the fall:
ONE!
TWO!
Strider kicks out, slowly making his way to his feet. Nash attempts another clothesline, but Strider moves back, jumps onto the top rope, and hits a quick drop kick, knocking Nash out for a moment.
George Cassidy: Now that, right there, shows you why he should be the champion, and not Pierce Lavelle.
Truth Waters: And that, right there, shows why nobody agrees with you. Nevertheless, Strider’s quick move turns the match around and puts him in the driving seat.
Strider jumps down from the top rope, and slams his body weight on to Nash, trying for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Nash holds on, and Strider rises up, stomping on her neck area while she recovers. He tours the ring, turning back as Nash rises and whipping her off the ropes. His attempt at a quick clothesline is met with a big boot, knocking him back and into another grapple hold. Nash almost locks in an armbar, but Strider reverses and hits her with a neckbreaker.
George Cassidy: Neckbreaker from Strider puts him in a solid position to win the title here.
Truth Waters: He won’t win it here, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Technically he won’t, but Lavelle won’t touch him when they match up.
With Nash back down, Strider hits another leg drop and locks in a sleeper hold. The two struggle for a moment, but Nash eventually breaks free and climbs up onto her feet. Strider follows, and after a short exchange of reverses Nash plays a clean shot into the chest of Strider, another roundhouse kick knocking him back into the turnbuckle again. Nash pauses to regain herself, before continuing to lay herself into the body of Alexander Strider.
Truth Waters: And now Ellis Nash, recovered from the earlier incidents, has the upper hand again in this slobber knocker.
Nash attempts to whip Strider across to the other turnbuckle, but Strider reverses, sending Nash off the ropes and meeting her with a sidewalk slam.
George Cassidy: Another great move from Strider’s vast collection, turning the situation around in excellent style.
Strider raises Nash to her feet, dragging her by the arm to the turnbuckle, where he dropkicks her in the chin. The two exchange a glance before Nash counters her way out of the corner, getting behind the ex-champion and bringing him down with a Russian leg sweep. Once down, Nash hits him with a discus leg drop. After a moment Strider is brought up by Nash, and promptly met with a scissors kick and quick cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Strider kicks out, and before Nash can fully stand up is up on his feet. After a quick kick to Nash’s legs he locks her into a cobra clutch.
George Cassidy: Alex Strider, a master of submission techniques, locks in a cobra clutch.
Truth Waters: A favourite move of Lavelle’s! Perhaps this symbols a concession that the champion is superior.
George Cassidy: Or perhaps you’re on crack.
Nash again struggles, but Strider releases the move and suplexes Nash onto the mat, before locking in a figure-four leg lock.
Truth Waters: A clever move by the first Transatlantic champion here in AWC. Strider, knowing submission is unlikely from the cobra clutch, brings Nash down and locks in a more painful, mat move.
Ellis again tries to wrestle her way out of the move, and after a loosening in Strider’s hold reaches the ropes.
George Cassidy: Nash escapes AGAIN! She’s so agile.
Truth Waters: Don’t make me slap you out of it.
Strider stops the move, rises to his feet, and hits her with a leg drop. After Nash makes her way up with the support of the ropes, the two lock up again, and the male of the pair hits her with a snap suplex. Ellis Nash's back hits the mat with a shuddering blow. She screams in pain, as Strider turns his momentum over and picks her up for a second snap suplex and hits it.
Truth Waters: Two snap suplexes by Alex Strider.
George Cassidy: That woman has a pair of lungs on her.
Truth Waters: A different pair to that which you normally refer to.
Strider breaks the hold of his snap suplex and goes for a pin.
ONE!
TWO!
Ellis Nash gets her foot on the bottom rope. Alex Strider looks up, a little annoyed now by the constant resilience by Ellis Nash. He stands up and grabs her by the hair. Ellis has no choice, but to succumb to his forceful hand. With the referee’s back turned, Nash turns around and knees Strider right in the REGIONS~!. Strider lets go of his hold on her hair and falls to the floor, grabbing his crotch.
Truth Waters: A cheap move by Ellis Nash. Why wasn’t Larsson paying attention?
George Cassidy: What are you talking about? That makes great TV. Look at her, she's beautiful and can make a guy weak in the knees, literally!
Truth Waters: I thought you were supporting Strider?
George Cassidy: I’m torn...
Truth Waters: So why can’t you just be impartial for once?!
George Cassidy: Ah, you know. Wouldn’t be authentic George Cassidy.
Truth Waters: I don’t think anyone WANTS authentic George Cassidy.
Ellis Nash bites her lip and smiles, gaining her balance; she knees Strider right in the face and goes for the pin.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Alex Strider jerks Ellis Nash off him, just in time. Ellis Nash smiles and backs off, allowing some recuperation time. Alex Strider sits up and tends to his bloody nose. He looks at Nash and stands up, using the ropes for some leverage. Ellis Nash now sees her chance and charges. Strider ducks at the last second and pulls on the third rope, sending Ellis crashing to the floor below.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash goes flying to the outside!
ONE!
George Cassidy: Alex, do be careful with her...
Truth Waters: Yeah, you need to keep her in top shape so Cassidy can perv over her.
She rolls off a little on impact and comes to rest against the barricade. TWO! Strider slides outside and walks around Ellis Nash, pacing her, like animal stalking his prey, before the kill. Ellis, using her forearms, raises herself up onto her legs again and shakes off the cobwebs. Strider slaps her across the face and is greeted with a great amount of boos from the surrounding fans. Nash holds her cheek, her hair hiding her face. THREE!
George Cassidy: Didn't your mother ever teach you, it's wrong to hit a girl.
Truth Waters: Comedy won't do well in this situation, Cassidy.
Ellis, annoyed, charges at Strider, spearing him against the ring apron. FOUR! Strider yells out and grabs his ribs. Ellis Nash once again uses her female instinct and knees Strider in the REGIONS~! for good meaure. She slides back into the ring and referee Larsson restarts the count:
ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!
Alex Strider slides back into the ring and breaks up the ring count. He smiles and stands up. Ellis and Alex tie up once again. Ellis Nash takes control this time, delivering some stern lefts and rights into Strider’s ribs. She lowers The Mongoose back into the turnbuckle and begins some stiff shoulder drives.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash has come back strong in this match.
George Cassidy: She found his weakness then. His ONLY weakness, I might add.
Nash suddenly turns her swift shoulder blocks into a flying DDT off the top turnbuckle. Strider counts on this, however, and catches her, then slams Ellis into the mat with a pumphandle slam. Alex goes for the pin.
George Cassidy: GREAT counter from the world’s best wrestler!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
Nash just gets her foot on the rope, to the relief of many fans. Strider sighs, exhausted by tonight’s match, the frustrations weighing in on him. He begins to stomp away at Ellis Nash.
Truth Waters: Close call for Ellis Nash. Strider almost had this match won.
George Cassidy: Almost, Truth. That isn't good enough.
Ellis Nash grabs Alex Strider’s foot and twists it. Alex hits the mat, face first, his bloodied nose leaving a slight splash as it hits the mat. Ellis drops an elbow to the back of his head.
George Cassidy: Nash is trying her best to keep control.
Strider slowly begins to get to his feet and Nash knees him in the head.
Truth Waters: That wasn’t ladylike.
Strider fights back with some jabs to the sternum, and Nash feels these, going to her hands and knees.
George Cassidy: Ellis on her knees –
Truth Waters: THANKS CASSIDY.
Strider now pulls her up by the hair, eliciting outraged screams from his opponent and boos from the fans.
George Cassidy: It seems they don’t go out for wife-beating in Honduras.
Truth Waters: Nah, they prefer sweatshirts.
George Cassidy: ...
Alexander Strider now hits a cradle neckbreaker and goes for the pin. Lars Larsson counts:
ONE!
TWO!
Nash just kicks out.
Truth Waters: Well-executed neckbreaker, and Ellis Nash only just kicked out of the cover.
George Cassidy: The end could be close.
Strider eases Nash back to her feet and plants a kick into her stomach. Nash doubles up, and Strider runs into the ropes, coming back off to look for a scissors kick to the top of her head. However, The Spade is now more aware of what is going on, and she manages to take a step back and just grab Strider’s trailing leg as he curses his miss. Strider tries to hit her with a forearm, but Nash rakes his face down.
Truth Waters: Eye rake!
Suddenly, a booming roar goes around the arena.
George Cassidy: The fans have caught on, but have you, Truth?!
Strider’s leg still caught in the crook of her arm, Nash looks around in wonder.
Truth Waters: I have, Cassidy! But can she do it? That is the question!
George Cassidy: Even she isn’t sure. Watch as she assesses Strider...
The fans are cheering the moment rather than the wrestler, but even so, this appears to be the deciding factor for Ellis Nash. Tossing all doubts aside, she clutches Alex Strider tightly and launches him...
George Cassidy: THE DECREE!
Truth Waters: An AMAZING suplex! He’s almost double her weight!
ONE!
Truth Waters: This could be over!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Ellis Nash heads for a date with Pierce Lavelle, and this is not what the script said!
THREE!
Truth Waters: She’s won! I don’t believe it!
George Cassidy: I don’t think anybody here does. Ladies and gentlemen, the once-undefeated Alex Strider, following his controversial defeat at Solarized in the Inferno match, has just been beaten by Ellis Nash!
Truth Waters: His first loss by straight pinfall!
Nash looks as shocked as the rest as James Brunt raises her arm, but she recovers to apply a cocky smirk to her face as her name is called.
James Brunt: The winner... ELLIS NASH!
A Painful Reminder
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Voice: Pierce, are you in here?
The light snaps on, and Tim Shipley peers into the room. His duo partner is, clearly, not present. Shipley shakes his head and turns to leave, but something catches his eye. Something out of place. Something new. Something that wasn’t there before.
His eyes widening, he goes across to the wall and takes down a picture frame. The camera moves around to a view from over his shoulder, and we see a black-and-white picture of Shipley and his partner Tony Aliso celebrating in a wrestling ring. The text at the bottom reads: “The Pioneers after winning their match against William Curr and Adam Dick. Core Wrestling PRIDE 19, 9th February 2005.” The picture, however, has been defaced. Aliso – who died less than two months after this photograph was taken – has had his face totally filled in with red magic-marker, aside from his eyes and mouth. There is also a red circle ringing Shipley’s head.
Shipley lets out a little cough, and the camera pans away to show his face, which has turned white. His hands trembling, he suddenly lets the frame drop to the floor, and the glass front smashes. Shaking, he sits down and fumbles for the light-switch, which he finally finds, and the room returns to darkness.
Copyright notice.
Credits.
We’ll see you next week.