Fresh! Results13th September 2005
Too Trendy For Words
FEATURING: TTS
AUTHOR: ANGUS SINCLAIR
The TTS team and entourage are found in the backstage area. Since their debut they have managed to make do with their shabby dressing rooms; bringing with them beanbags fairy lights for ambience and the latest iPod model hooked up to portable speakers so they can listen to their mellow break-Belgian jazz fusion. They are so wrapped up in their own lives that this is the nearest AWC managed to get in regards to interviewing the team:
Harry: Which one’s Gaykuto?
John: God only knows.
Harry: All look the bloody same don’t they.
Producer: Err, we are rolling.
Harry: Look at his funny little eyes...
John: Do you remember those WWA shows? They had midget wrestling on. That was bloody rubbish.
Producer: Guys...
Suze’: Mine’s a Doublemochalattefrappacino Decaf!
Harry: Do you reckon they know the little photographer men at ringside?
Producer: Look we really need a few serious comments for our video packa-
John: I should have told Dwayne to hang around. Reckon we’ll have Mr Miyagi within a round.
Producer: Oh for Christ’s sake...
But that’s just their way. It’s not arrogance, it’s not being rude; it’s a full awareness that in their Trendy Twenty-Something snow dome existence, anyone who isn’t middle class, isn’t important.
Introduction
FEATURING: TRUTH WATERS, GEORGE CASSIDY
AUTHORS: PIERRE HYDE, DAVE LARKIN AND DAVID HEDLEY
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC's superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.
I think I'm breaking out
I'm gonna leave you now
There's nothing for me here
It's all the same
Pierce Lavelle is shown delivering his Whiplash finisher on Paddy O’Shea on Fresh! a couple of weeks ago, and then holding aloft the Transatlantic title which he went on to gain for the second time. A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, with shots of many AWC superstars in action being shown: Frontier champion Andy Murray, Alliance champion Paddy O’Shea, Tim Shipley.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I'm not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from recent events flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. Patrick Mapleleaf rapping in the ring; Juri Hyobanshi locking the Rapture Eternal on Jason Locke; The Illustrious Face-Eater smashing Shipley’s laptop over his head.
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: WEST ATLANTIC… FREAK OUT!
George Cassidy: Goodbye, credibility!
Truth Waters: I'm entitled to be excited, Cassidy; we’re finally back on air! It’s the famed Truth Waters/George Cassidy announce team bringing you the West Atlantic edition of AWC Fresh! for the first time in...
George Cassidy: A while. A long while.
Truth Waters: It’s been too long, Cassidy. Fortunately, we’ve got a great show planned to ease fans back into the splendour of commentary by me. Seven big matches, plus highlights from UWF Sunday Afternoon Supremacy where The Academy took on High Society... and a whole load of new signings appearing!
George Cassidy: Yes, our new God Patrick Mapleleaf will have his first match in a Four Way Fury against John Edwards, who just moved over from PRIME; Titan, who I know zero about; and James Varga The Handler...
Truth Waters: Who is hopefully nothing like the James Varga from UWF.
George Cassidy: That’s not all; we’ve also got two new females contesting a singles match. Katerina Zag – Zagarov – something Russian... will fight it out with Seymour Almasy’s wife, or ex-wife, or something –
Truth Waters: Cassidy isn’t so good with wives.
George Cassidy: – who now goes as Laura Winters.
Truth Waters: The big story tonight, though, is the First Finisher match between Tim Shipley and The Illustrious Face-Eater! Their feud has kept me interested throughout AWC’s ill-advised European diversion, and this should truly be one to watch. Shipley has come out of his shell in recent weeks...
George Cassidy: But is still an utter loser.
Truth Waters: Steven Xandrous will defend the Livewire championship for the first time against the indubitably cool Red Rock...
George Cassidy: I DUBIT!
Truth Waters: ...and we’ve got two tag matches, as well as Hate’s customary curtain jerker. He’s against Jonny Sake, who’s just out of jail and looking to make an impact.
George Cassidy: His win/loss record says otherwise.
New Beginnings
FEATURING: JOHN EDWARDS, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: ROSS BROOKES
No matter how many times you do it. Walking into an arena for the first time is a scary thing. Especially when you have no idea of the people you are going to be working with. John Edwards has been told a few things about the roster that had irked him somewhat. Apparently there was a magnificent eater of face, although he was half asleep when he read the memo and that could have read feces. Although he had been assured that this company was not like UWF.
John takes a few sheepish steps through the arena getting a nod from various members of the security staff as he does so, everyone seemed to be smiling at him. He couldn’t help shake the notion that if he was put in a glass container right now, people would be swarming around him, looking at him, staring.
As he continues to walk, in this semi daydream state he accidentally collides with someone who, seemingly, had also been in a daydream. A mangle of limbs flail about briefly as both fall to the floor, John’s head resting lightly on the softest pillows known to man. Also known as Sarah Kennedy’s breasts.
Sarah Kennedy: I hope you are going to make this worth my while.
Pulling himself to his feet, quickly John extends a hand to Sarah and helps her up; after a brief apology mixed with the slightest twinge of embarrassment, John begins to make his way down the corridor once more, reaching a t-junction before pausing and scratching his head. He’d forgotten where he was going, the whole breasts for pillows thing had broken his concentration. What was worse was the sound of high heels clicking on the faux marble floor behind him, approaching nearer like a shark circling its prey.
Sarah Kennedy: Turn left here, walk about fifty meters down the corridor and you’re the fourth room on the right. Hi John, I’m Sarah Kennedy, AWC’s roving reporter, I believe you have already met Harry and Sally.
John turns around to face Sarah, his face had turned a pleasant shade of crimson, which often comes from being mocked by a woman. He wanted to run away quickly, lock himself in his room till his match and then leave nice and quietly. He had never enjoyed this whole wrestler/reporter relationship that seemed to develop in every single company he’d worked for. Reporters know everything about you, it’s their job, they pry and they probe to find out the confirmed stories, from the simple shower talk that somehow reaches them.
Already John knew what her questions would be about, but he wasn’t prepared to answer them, of course the main question wouldn’t come until the third one. It was the way they worked.
Sarah Kennedy: So John, first of all let me say welcome to AWC, it’s nice to have someone of your name caliber join us in our humble little company.
Already John knew that she’d be trouble, he was having trouble detecting sincerity from sarcasm.
Sarah Kennedy: I guess the first question would be, are you looking forward to your debut tonight?
Question one, nice and simple.
John Edwards: A mix of nerves and excitement I suppose Sarah. It’s always fun to join a new company, its just the niggling doubts of maybe not performing to the top of my ability on the first night and being branded useless for the rest of my tenure. However I intend to give AWC one hundred percent effort whilst I’m here.
A textbook answer.
Sarah nods briefly, a smile forming in the corners of her mouth, it wasn’t intentional, it was more Cheshire Cat syndrome, except this cat was a huge mountain lion that’s just caught the scent of a young deer in the valley below. John shuffles his feet on the floor, trying not to show any signs of weakness.
Sarah Kennedy: Now as you aren’t expecting it. Why did you leave PRIME? We all know that you are blaming the situation on your wife, however, there must be some other reason for leaving?
Number two… this reporter was good, very good. Fortunately John was better.
John Edwards: I have absolutely nothing to say about PRIME. Simple as that. I don’t blame my wife for anything, it was simply time for a career change.
Sarah Kennedy: Some people have said that you couldn’t keep up with the talent there, that’s why you left.
John glares at Sarah who returns his gaze impassively, if she was a he, John would have hit her by now. It was a shrewd business move by AWC.
John Edwards: Ok sweet cheeks, go back and watch my match with Karina Wolfenden, then the weeks after and ask her how sore her back was afterwards. I can hang with anyone in PRIME, whether it is their champion Hoyt Williams or Karina Wolfenden. The simple matter is that I’m in AWC now and I’m about to prove once and again that I can hang with the best.
Sarah nods slowly to herself, whether it had been her own personal little test or something else entirely John seems to have passed. In a foul mood now John storms down the corridor, not turning back to face Sarah once again, simply pausing in the corridor, hanging his head low for a brief second.
John Edwards: You don’t have a magnificent feces eater here do you?
Sarah Kennedy: Nope, we have an Illustrious Face-Eater though.
John Edwards: Ah, much better.
And with that John leaves for his dressing room, to get ready for the night’s entertainment.
Testimonial
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Riff away.
Time to feel good.
Time to feel... Bohemian.
The Dandy Warhols pump out through the speakers and the crowd in California goes crazy for David Harber, their state native who is in role as AWC’s Entertainment Manager.
Truth Waters: It’s an address from Harber! He’s Californian himself and the fans love him here!
George Cassidy: Oh, I’ve so missed these pointless self-promotion speeches.
Harber gets into the ring, a broad smile on his face.
Pearl: Finally, AWC has made it to the west coast – the best coast!
Cheap pop.
George Cassidy: The better coast would be grammatically correct – but subjective nonetheless....
Pearl: It’s a real pleasure to be back in Cali – boy, have I missed the sunshine – Europe’s got its perks, but you can’t beat cruising down the freeway in California...
Chants of ”PEARL! PEARL! PEARL!” dominate the audio in the Selland Arena.
Pearl: And now I am delighted to be able to announce for the first time a match for the Testimony pay-per-view!
Truth Waters: Oh boy, Cassidy! Here it is!
The crowd reaction is huge. Compared to previous pay-per-view events, AWC’s upcoming Testimony hasn’t been all that hyped, and they want nothing more than to hear first-hand what the big match will be.
They’re in for a letdown.
Pearl: It will be... a Janitor’s Closet match!
What?
George Cassidy: What?
Truth Waters: What?
James Brunt: What?
”WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?”
Pearl: That’s right! AWC’s prodigal son FREDROCK~! has been out of action for a while, and I think it’s time to reward him with a spot in the limelight. A Janitor’s Closet match at Testimony – against an opponent of his choice!
George Cassidy: Oh come on, this is moronic.
Truth Waters: Ah, I'm kinda getting on Harber’s wavelength...
Pearl: So be sure to tune in next week, when FREDROCK~! will be announcing his chosen opponent for Testimony, which comes LIVE from the Thomas & Mack Center in LAS VEGAS on September 30th! Enjoyed the Streets Of London match? JUST WAIT until you see the Janitor’s Closet match! This will blow you away!
George Cassidy: Ladies and gentleman, this man is criminally insane.
’Cause I like you, and I like you
And I'm feeling so bohemian like you
And I like you, and I like you
And I feel – wahoo – woo!
Cue exit.
What.
A.
Letdown.
Just In The Door...
FEATURING: THE FARMER, SARAH KENNEDY
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
Stepping into the arena in Fresno, California, The Farmer was glad to back in the USA. Dragging his Alliance Championship belt in his right hand and a sports bag in his right hand, Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy was finally rid of Chris Metal, the trainer who was only out to get himself back on television.
Mickey had given himself three issues to deal with during the show; Number one, Deliverance; Number two, Ian English and the Relentless championship; and number three, payback to Steven Xandrous by helping Red Rock win.
Taking a second step, The Farmer let out a breath of relief. Every leg of the European tour, the Irishman was greeted at the door by someone or something looking for something and finally it felt good to know he would make to his locker room in peace and quiet.
“Mr. McCarthy…”
I spoke too soon. Sighing, Mickey looked up, through his red hair and saw Sarah Kennedy approaching but she was without her customary microphone.
Looking around, The Farmer was waiting for a microphone to pop out but none came; just Sarah Kennedy and a package in her hand.
Sarah Kennedy: This package came for you. Pearl told me to give it to you and apparently it’s quite important…
Dropping the Alliance belt from his hand, oh what respect, The Farmer reached out and took the brown envelope from Sarah Kennedy with a groan of acceptance and then watched her leave. Mickey didn’t like talking to reporters. He always felt everything he said even in this case a simple thank you could be twisted to mean something different. The best way to deal with it was to say nothing, or so his mum had taught him.
Stepping away from Sarah Kennedy walked with a confident swagger but didn’t even look back once. Mickey assumed she knew what the package contained, but noticing that she didn’t look back once to see a reaction left Mickey in confusion as to why Pearl had sent Sarah and not some teenage kid with bad highlights and an obsession with that girl that treats him like a gay cross-dressing friend. Anyway enough about Hyde’s new temp job and back to the package.
Looking down at the envelope, Mickey realised it was addressed to “The Farmer” and then sent to AWC headquarters. First thought; it’s a death threat from a crazy fan. But then he noticed the postage mark, “Belfast”… home.
Suddenly fearing the worst, Mickey stuffs the brown envelope into his bag and quickly hurries to his locker room.
About ten feet closer to his locker room, the Eire Og member stopped, spun round and retrieved the Alliance championship belt from the floor. It’s almost like being a champion brings a certain responsibility with it.
Now, with a full itinerary of Alliance belt, sports bag with ring attire and the new package, The Farmer stepped towards his locker room. Preparing for the match with Deliverance had taken a backseat as The Farmer needed peace to discover the contents of the envelope.
Hate vs Jonny Sake
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHOR: JAAKKO OKSA
Truth Waters: And to start the night off, we have Jonny Sake taking on that madman Hate.
George Cassidy: I hate that bastard, I really do. In the Streets Of London match, he was throwing people off of a moving buss for Chrissakes! It’s a wonder Pearl even lets him wrestle anymore.
Truth Waters: Well, he DID ban him from the arenas as an experiment. We all know how well THAT worked out.
George Cassidy: You speak the truth, my friend…
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. Alongside him walks Azagtoth, with a steel chair already in his hands, smacking the chair against the floor. In the ring, the referee Aaron Davies eyes Azagtoth carefully, having not forgotten his sudden blackout at the last show.
James Brunt: The following is a singles match; introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at 225 pounds… The Fifth Horseman, HATE!
The crowd showers Hate with boos as he walks down to the ringside, shouting abuse at the front row fans. Hate rips his gas mask off, looking as pissed off as ever as he slides into the ring to remove his trenchcoat. Azagtoth stays on the outside, screaming at the fans and following Hate with his eyes.
George Cassidy: Now for those viewers who didn’t catch the show last week, Hate sent a pretty strong message to the Irish Paddy O’Shea when he BLEW UP Paddy’s motor home on a live show!
Truth Waters: That was disgusting, not to mention how he manhandled The Educator in the opening match of the night. He might have actually ended his career! I’m telling you, this man should just be fired and be done with.
George Cassidy: Tell me about it. I still have nightmares about the Streets Of London match.
”Summer Of ’69” by Bryan Adams picks up on the speakers, and the fans cheer the massive Jonny Sake for the sheer reason that he’s stepping up against Hate. Sake tries to flip the bird at the fans, but doesn’t really change his reaction one way or another and just forgets it.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Manhattan, New York and weighing in at 346 pounds… JONNY SAKE!
As Sake walks down to the ringside, he points at Azagtoth and warns against any funny business before sliding into the ring.
George Cassidy: Well, Sake outweighs Hate by over a 100 pounds and is about a FOOT taller than him. That is an advantage both Void and The Educator were missing in their bouts against Hate in the weeks prior to this match.
Truth Waters: You forget Hate’s match against Kuff McSlade, who was taller and heavier than Hate. Look at what happened to him.
In the ring, Sake gets into Hate’s face, trying to intimidate the smaller wrestler, but gets no reaction as Hate just smiles at his threats. Referee Aaron Davies carefully slips inbetween the two wrestlers to explain the rules and slips out just as quickly, calling for the bell. Hate motions for Sake to hit him, but as the big man draws back for a punch, Hate quickly sucker punches him in the jaw and follows it up with a hard kick to the guts, doubling the big man over.
Truth Waters: See, right there. A fat lot of good Sake’s advantage did for him.
Hate grabs Jonny Sake by his hair and pulls his face upwards before laying into his face with a couple of hard left hands. Hate then releases Sake’s hair and slaps him hard across the face, sending Sake reeling to the ropes. Hate just stands his ground in the middle of the ring, looking confident.
George Cassidy: Hate quickly estabilishing himself to Jonny Sake here, just completely disrespecting him with a slap across the face. I think the effect is more psychological than physical, Truth.
Truth Waters: It takes a lot to bring down a man of Sake’s size, if nothing else. That’s an advantage for him for sure.
Jonny Sake, clearly angered by Hate’s antics, launches off the ropes and lunges back, trying to take Hate’s head off with a clothesline, only to get his move dodged by Hate. Hate comes back by kicking Sake in the back and sending him to the ropes chest-first, and follows it up with a jumping knee to the spine of Jonny Sake. Sake collapses to the mat, holding his back in pain while Hate laughs above him.
George Cassidy: Brutal but effective. That’s just what Hate is.
Hate stomps on Sake’s head until Aaron Davies comes to pull him off, and even then Hate just shoves Davies aside. Hate helps Sake up and instantly awards him with a kick to the side of the head. Hate backs Sake up to the ropes and ties him up, chopping him furiously in the chest and making the crowd ”OOOH” as the hard smacks echo around the arena. Sake takes the punishment for a while, but then Hate’s barrage takes a pause and Sake flares back with a punch that doesn’t do much more than make Hate laugh. However, Sake wipes the laugh off with a nice standing clothesline, hitting Hate square in the jaw and knocking the Fifth Horseman onto his back.
Truth Waters: There we go! It doesn’t matter who you are, when a man of Jonny Sake’s size hits you, you’re going DOWN!
As Sake tries to recover the strikes he suffered, Azagtoth jumps on the apron behind him and slips a chain over his throat, pulling it tight. Just as Aaron Davies moves in to remove Azagtoth and DQ Hate, Sake straightens up, pulling Azagtoth off of his feet as well. Azagtoth releases his hold and drops down onto the apron, but is left open for a huge haymaker from Sake that sends him crashing to the floor.
George Cassidy: That takes care of that little nuisance.
Truth Waters: Indeed, Hate is apparently on his own now… Though with an army of minions at his disposal, is he ever truly alone?
As Jonny Sake gloats over the ropes to the audience, Hate has already gotten up and advances onto his opponent once again. Hate punches Sake hard in the back of the head and then grabs him in a waistlock. In a show of sheer power, Hate lifts Sake over in a slow-motion German suplex, sending him crashing onto his upper back. Sake holds the back of his head and tries to roll away while Hate straightens up and advances onto him, stopping him with a hard stomp to the head.
George Cassidy: I’m getting a déjà vu-feeling here.
Truth Waters: You mean a McSlade-vu?
George Cassidy: Possibly.
Hate brings Jonny Sake up to his feet, the big man obviously wobbly from the big hit he just took. Hate slaps him across the face again befrore giving Sake a thunderous headbutt, probably killing a few braincells in the process. Hate follows with a standing clothesline of his own, smacking his arm across the face of Jonny Sake and knocking him back against the turnbuckle. Hate rams his knee into the midsection of Sake and then steps aside, letting the big man slump down to the mat onto his knees. Hate just spits on Sake’s neck and then begins climging to the top rope, planning something devastating.
Truth Waters: What the… Hate really isn’t known for any top rope antics, so what on Earth could he possibly be going for now?
George Cassidy: I have a good hunch that we’re going to see a move not seen since Zero To Hero…
Hate climbs to the top rope and without further ado jumps off, connecting with the Death Of Above against the head of Jonny Sake. Sake comes down face-first on the mat, crushed between Hate and the canvas. Hate then rolls him over as the crowd both boos and aaah’s the big move, with Aaron Davies making the count.
Truth Waters: My God!
George Cassidy: The Death From Above, Truth, as Hate likes to call it. Like I said at ZTH, it’s not the most spectacular top rope move around, but when it’s 225 pounds coming down onto your neck from 8 feet in the air, it doesn’t really matter if it’s fancy or not.
ONE!
TWO!
Shockingly, Jonny Sake’s shoulder rises up into the air, and Hate looks at Aaron Davies with a wry smile on his face. Davies starts explaining that it was a two count, when Azagtoth comes up from behind him and slams a steel chair hard into the back of Davies’ head, laying the referee out for the second week in a row. While Azagtoth lays out Davies, Hate picks Sake’s head up and repeadetly knees him in the face, opening the corner of his left eye up like a crimson flower. The crowd boos as Hate gets up and grabs the chair from Azagtoth’s hands, lifting it into the air for all the fans to see.
Truth Waters: Now come on, this is entirely uncalled for! Hate is just doing this because…
George Cassidy: I think he’s doing it because he can.
As Azagtoth slides out of the ring to be pelted with empty soda cans and the like, Hate starts hitting Jonny Sake with the chair repeadetly in the torso before finally slamming it squarely onto the top of Sake’s head. Hate looks at the now-deformed chair in his hands and tosses it out of the ring, smiling amusedly. At the same time, Azagtoth throws Hate a fresh chair, which the red-headed wrestler unfolds in the middle of the ring.
George Cassidy: OK, I think this is about the time that the security should run out and give that guy a good talking-to…
Truth Waters: Well, they didn’t stop him last week, what makes you think that they’d do it now?
George Cassidy: Because we’re in the States now. We actually give a shit about what happens to our wrestlers.
Just as Azagtoth starts climbing to the apron, obviously slower because of the fall he took earlier, the crowd starts cheering. Azagtoth instantly realizes that something is up, but is too slow to turn around before Paddy O’Shea is on the ringside. O’Shea swings a baseball bat, connecting with the knees of Azagtoth and making him fall off the apron for the second time of the night. Hate spots O’Shea and starts running towards him as the Irishman gets up on the apron to take Azagtoth’s spot.
Truth Waters: That’s Paddy O’Shea!
George Cassidy: Hate burnt down his home, attacked his family… It’s no wonder he’s here now!
Without any thought, Hate lunges at O’Shea, only too late realizing his mistake as Paddy swings his baseball bat, connecting square with Hate’s temple. The mighty blow makes the entire audience go ”OOH” as Hate stumbles backwards, obviously dazed by the blow. O’Shea gets into the ring from between the ropes and plants another shot into the face of Hate, apparently opening up a wound as some blood spatters onto the canvas. Hate stumbles backwards again and falls down into the chair, and Paddy O’Shea moves in for the final kill. He runs towards hate, smacking the bat over Hate’s bald head with full force and knocking the cult leader spread-eagled on the mat as the crowd cheer Paddy on.
George Cassidy: Holy hell, now that’s what I call revenge!
Truth Waters: Paddy O’Shea has DEMOLISHED Hate with a baseball bat, busting him wide open! You can see the blood trickling down onto the mat!
Jonny Sake staggers up and surveys the carnage for a moment with a confused look on his face. He then sees Paddy O’Shea slide out of the ring and run off, followed by a couple of black-clad minions following a few steps behind him. Sake shrugs and picks up the limp Hate, hooking his arm and head. Sake quickly plants Hate with a brainbuster suplex onto the unfolded chair, driving Hate’s head through the seat portion of the chair.
Truth Waters: And ouch again as Jonny Sake capitalizes on this situation! Could this be…
Sake quickly kicks the destroyed chair out of the ring and covers the bleeding Hate, the left half of his own face badly bruised and bloodied as well. Aaron Davies crawls over to Sake pinning Hate, grimacing and holding the back of his head.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Truth Waters: I... must be dreaming.
The bell rings and Aaron Davies slowly gets up as Sake pulls back onto his knees, looking disbelievingly at the audience who show their rare support to Jonny Sake. Sake immediately gets up and runs to Davies, shaking him by the shoulders and asking if it was a three count. As Davies raises Sake’s arm into the air, Sake begins smiling a smile as wide as Texas as he parades around the ring, soaking up the fan reaction.
George Cassidy: Well, this is an upset nobody was predicting to happen! Jonny Sake has beaten the ’behemoth’ Hate, although I don’t feel like using that word right here with Sake in the ring as well…
Truth Waters: Well, you saw the fight that Hate brought to the ring. It’s a miracle Sake isn’t the one lying on the mat there with his head busted open.
Suddenly, Hate sits straight up, and immediately two trickles of blood start running down his muscular chest. Sake turns around, and as soon as he sees the bloodied Hate sitting upright, he exits the ring with Aaron Davies to celebrate with the front-row fans. Hate, however, isn’t interested in Sake, instead staring at the entranceway.
Truth Waters: What? Is he expecting Paddy O’Shea to appear again?
George Cassidy: You never know, Truth, he just might do that.
As nothing can be heard of O’Shea, Hate slowly stands up and begins walking out of the arena, limping and holding his head with one of his hands. At the curtain, Hate turns around and looks at his hand, covered in his own blood, before pressing a bloody handprint into his chest and raising his fist towards the booing crowd. After this brief show of defiance, Hate steps through the curtain and disappears.
George Cassidy: Well, what a shocker to open up the night as Jonny Sake pins Hate after a brutal onslaught by Paddy O’Shea.
Truth Waters: After what Hate has done to O’Shea… I don’t question his actions at all. But... Jonny Sake over Hate. Jonny Sake over Hate. It’s... illogical!
If You Love Him, Go To Him...
FEATURING: RED ROCK, THE BRITISH BOMBER
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
We find ourselves outside the Selland Arena. We see Red Rock sat down by him self with his hands on his lap and his head hung towards the floor. He is sat in just a t-shirt and his wrestling tights. The camera zooms in on Red Rock as he sighs and people walk past him ignoring him despite the fact he is visibly distressed. Red Rock looks up and sees a familiar face walking past holding a sports bag.
Red Rock: Hey Bomber.
Bomber hears Red Rock but tries to pretend he didn't and tries to walk on with a faster pace in his steps.
Red Rock: HEY BOMBER!
Bomber stops in his tracks and groans.
Bomber: Oh. Hey Red... didn't see you there.
Red Rock: What are you doing here on your day off? Am I glad to see a friendly face though...I feel like crap mate.
Bomber: Err...actually Red. I'm running a little bit late.
Red Rock: I've ruined everything with Paddy.
The British Bomber raises an eyebrow inquisitively.
Bomber: Ruined what with Paddy?
Red Rock: After what happened last week at Fresh! he probably thinks I'm partners with James Varga.
Bomber tries to not act awkward but is showing obvious signs of discomfort over this subject.
Bomber: Oh...err..right.
Red Rock: Paddy was the only one around here that accepted me and now he doesn't want to know me. What should I do?
Bomber gulps and awkwardly replies.
Bomber: Err... If you love him go to him? or... something...
Red Rock stares back at The British Bomber with a bemused look about his person.
Red Rock: Pardon!?
The Bomber begins to edges quickly away from the convocation, stuttering. Bomber: It-it-doesn't matter. I have to go now...bye!
Bomber walks off away from Red Rock quickly whilst shuddering in disgust.
Watching The Package
FEATURING: THE FARMER, STEVEN XANDROUS
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
Sitting on the bench in his own locker room, The Farmer’s eyes were locked firmly on the brown envelope that he held in his broad hands.
What with Mike Wade now practically a member of Eire Og, Mickey had expressed his feelings to management and had got himself his own preparation area. No Paddy O’Shea and his new best buddy. Just Mickey and what was supposed to be his preparation regime but that wasn’t going to happen what with the new arrival of the package.
As though trying to unleash his Superman-esque powers on the envelope and look into it, The Farmer was staring a hole in his mail but really he was attempting to work out what it was. If the news had been important or shocking then someone would have rang, so this must be something else.
A food parcel? Why would they send a food parcel? The Farmer was on an amazingly luxurious contract that meant he never struggled for food. It wasn’t like he was a starving college student that was using some of his female friends for a free meal and not their bodies as he says he is.
Granted, The Farmer only came up with one idea, but he has exhausted all of the thoughts he could come with it and squashing it was no use as it was impressively or possibly a teddy bear… Mr. Fish.
Suddenly filled with an exuberant youthful innocence that stemmed from a potential reunion with his boyhood teddy bear Mr. Fish, who was actually a cat, Mickey McCarthy ripped the top of the envelope and turned it upside down allowing the contents to fall into his eagerly awaiting lap.
Shaking it a little to get thinks moving, The Farmer watched as tissue fell loosely out of the envelope into the package, however he knew there was a weight in it and so continued to shake.
Obliging and with some continued persistence, a video tape fell lovingly into the tissue paper that lay on Mickey’s knees.
Finally happy that the envelope was empty, Mickey’s head was already racing with ideas of the footage on the video tape but he decided he would know soon enough.
Getting to his feet, The Farmer made the few steps to the video and slid in the tape, pushing the television on and lifting the remote in a few slick movements. As the video recorder made all those sounds that it makes when loading a tape, Mickey crossed the room and locked the door of his room, before turning around to see the screen filled with static.
Frozen by the now illuminated screen Mickey watched, holding his breath for the first actions to appear in place of the static. Several seconds past, as the camera watched the screen and flicked to facial reactions of The Farmer, but it remained the same as static continued to fill the air.
Finally allowing himself to move, Mickey returned to the bench he had been sat at and continued to give his full attention to the screen.
“Hello?”
Mickey’s momentary lapse of concentration to allow himself to sit on the bench was caught as a voice called him from the television. Looking up, The Farmer was greeted by an all too familiar face…
Steven Xandrous.
Xandrous’ face was incredibly close to the screen, almost in a “Blair Witch” style shot. It was obvious that Steven was holding the camera as well as appearing in his own video production.
Steven Xandrous: Hey Mickey… I’m somewhere you might recognise…
Swinging away from Xandrous’ face, the screen is filled by a shot of a beautiful blue sky before greeting some green hills and finally focusing on a small cottage with smoke pouring out of the chimney. Immediately Mickey knew where Xandrous was. Xandrous spoke again on voiceover.
Steven Xandrous: In case you don’t recognise this place… I’ll remind you; this is where you grew up and more importantly where you’re parents live…
Xandrous finished the sentence with smug giggle that was easily audible and easily picked up The Farmer. Mickey’s face was a picture as he watched the screen.
Cutting shots, the picture changed a shot of Steven Xandrous standing beside Mickey’s father, John. The camera was being manned by someone about ten feet away but their voice, which was female, was as clear as day as well as her conversation with Xandrous and John.
Voice: What are you doing with those spades John? I thought you were going to show Michael’s friend around…
The female voice was recognised as Mickey’s mother, Anne.
John McCarthy: I’m going to teach Steven to dig…
And then the picture cut to static.
Jumping to his feet, Mickey continued to fix his eyes on the screen and then the original “Blair Witch” shot of Xandrous re-appeared.
Steven Xandrous: It’s amazing how close I got to your parents, isn’t it Michael? And you wouldn’t have been able to stop me…
Xandrous began to laugh as the picture was cut to black and then static and then the video recorder stopped the tape.
Totally furious, The Farmer roared aloud in frustration, throwing the remote across the room.
Preparation for the duo match was no longer an issue. Ian English could wait. Steven Xandrous had become the number one priority.
Blood Flowers
FEATURING: RED ROCK, BOOLIE
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
Red Rock and Boolie walk in to the shot down the corridor on the way to his dressing room. Red Rock still appears a little bit down and Boolie stands beside Red Rock trying to figure out how to use his new mobile phone.
Boolie: I can't figure out how to use these things and my fingers are too big.
Red Rock: I don't care Boolie. How can I care when everyone around here hates me?
Boolie: Sorry Red. I'm sure not everyone hates you.
Red Rock: I'm pretty sure I over heard Face-Eater saying everyone hates me once or twice.
Boolie: Oh don't be silly!
Red Rock: Oh and the constant staring, everyone is suspicious of me.
Boolie: Oh come on cheer up! At least you have a title shot.
Red Rock: Yeah and you fail to realize what happened to me on Sunday!
Red Rock and Boolie look to the sky and remember what happened.
and as he examines it he notices that the words “Red” and “Rock” are written on the paper.
Boolie extends his arm and points the rock towards Red Rock.
Boolie: I think it's for you.
Red Rock reaches and take the rock still trembling from the shock. The way Red Rock looks at the rock indicates he already knows what it is but he unwrapped the paper and reads it anyway.
Red Rock: You don't listen do you? I have backstage access for fresh this week. Show up and die traitor!
Red Rock clenches the bit of paper and drops the rock on the floor with the pile of shattered glass. He turns white as a ghost and his eyes swell up as the faces of Boolie and D'avid drop to shock. Red Rock has received the ultimatum from his poison pen pal.
Boolie: Oh yeah the murderous psycho... forgot about that.
Red Rock: Yeah I don't want to die but I know who ever it is, is trying to mess my head up and I don't want to miss a shot at a title and we REALLY could use the extra money. We just have to keep our eyes peeled.
Red Rock and Boolie reach the entrance of his locker room and enter. Red Rock slowly opens the door, half expecting it to be wrecked, but to his relief it is spotless. He closes the door behind him and quickly scans the room for any murderers.
Red Rock: Do you think it's safe?
Boolie: Yeah it's fine don't worry! I will protect you!
Red Rock looks over at the table and notices a bunch of pretty flowers. It's all professionally presented and it is a pretty impressive bunch. There is a small card leaning up against it with “Red Rock” written on the envelop in calligraphic writing.
Red Rock: Oh. WOW! Flowers for me?
Red Rock's face lights up from its previously depressed state.
Boolie: See! Why would you get flowers if you were hated?
Red Rock: Yeah I guess so! I never got flowers before!
Red Rock walks over and picks up the card. He picks up the letter with a fresh heart warming smile. He peels it open and reaches in to pull out the card inside. But the joy is diminished suddenly.
Red Rock: AGH!
Red Rock drops the letter and looks at his fingers, to his shock the tips of his fingers are bleeding with deep cuts on the end of them. He holds his hand up to his face and his breathing starts to increase. Red Rock is horrified as the blood runs crimson down his hands, down his forearm and small drops fall from his elbow to the floor at a steady pace.
Red Rock: urr... urr...
Boolie: Fuck me!
Boolie leans down to pick the card up and reads it.
Boolie: It says “I fucking warned you…”
Mapleleaf vs Titan vs Varga (H) vs Edwards
STIPULATION: NEWCOMERS' FOUR WAY FURY
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: JOSH MOODY
This match is still to come in. Spoiler winner: Patrick Mapleleaf.
For Our English-Speakers, He Said “Get Out Of My Road!”
FEATURING: THE FARMER, ANDY MURRAY
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
Storming down the corridor, The Farmer had one thing on his mind.
Steven Xandrous.
The video tape that the Irishman had received earlier in the night had not gone down well. Okay so Xandrous hadn’t actually done anything in the way of harm to his parents, a quick phone call had checked that but it was still the fact that Xandrous had even went to his house.
First there was the branding during the Farmyard match and now he was brining The Farmer’s parents into it. Okay so he was copying Hate but still he was a head-fuck with it being Mickey’s own parents.
Turning a sharp corner…
CRASH!
The Farmer went chest to chest with his Gaelic buddy, Andy Murray. Andy came off the worse of the collision but both were stalled.
The Farmer: You s’en Xandrous?
Mickey’s tone was cold, harsh and totally opposite of his usual tone that he took with his friend. For a second, Andy thought and even though his answer should have been instantaneous, he expected better from his friend and was sidetracked as he tried to rationalise The Farmer’s behaviour seeing as he had bumped into him.
Andy Murray: No…
The Farmer: ARGH! T’en g’t owt o’ me road!
Pushing Andy into the wall, The Farmer stormed past in search of the Livewire Champion.
Andy Murray: Hey, Mickey… I wanted to ask you about the Super Series Tag match…
But Andy’s hopeful words fell on deaf ears as The Farmer faced forward and bounded down the halls of the Selland Arena, red mist in his eyes and only one target.
Mapleleaf's Piñata Game
FEATURING: PATRICK MAPLELEAF
AUTHOR: PATRICK
The cameras cut to the arena. In the center of the ring, there is a round transparent basket filled with little white balls. The basket has a handle to move it around. It looks much like the tumbler that is used for raffles. The lights fade in the arena, and on the Big Screen, a Canadian flag appears. Red and white pyro shoots off, and an instrumental version of “Oh, Canada” blasts through the arena. The fans begin to boo at once as Patrick Mapleleaf makes his way down the ramp and towards the ring. He is not dressed in his usual attire, however. He is wearing a black tuxedo, complete with shiny black shoes. His beard is neatly trimmed, and his long blonde hair is pulled back into a practical ponytail. He has a grin on his face as he comes down, climbs the stairs, and signals for the music to be cut. The music fades, and the arena fills up with booing. Mapleleaf grabs the microphone.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Your new favorite wrestler…has arrived!
The fans boo in response.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Now, as many of you have heard, I have a great big surprise for all of you fans tonight. I admit that last week, I was unfair to Ireland’s great fans. I ask all of our Irish viewers to please forgive me! I am out here tonight, dressed to kill, to show all of you just how I truly feel. Tonight, you, the fans, every person in this building, has the chance to win a brand new, 2006 Ford Escort!
The fans cheer in response.
Patrick Mapleleaf: I thought you’d like that! What I am going to do now is draw a number out of this tumbler. It is filled with every seat number in the arena. I will draw once. The number I pick will correspond with the seat number of the winner. The winner will then come down and play Patrick Mapleleaf’s special piñata game. Klause, the piñata!
A paper-mache model of a yellow smiley face slowly comes down to the ring, dangling about 10 feet above it. Mapleleaf pulls out a whacking stick from inside his jacket.
Patrick Mapleleaf: If whomever I pick can strike this piñata, not only will everyone in this arena win brand new cars, but you will win whatever is in the piñata!
Mapleleaf walks over to the basket. He tumbles it around several times, then picks out a number.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Would the person sitting in row 36, section F, seat 3, please come down to the ring? You have won!
A fan comes down, escorted by security. He looks like he is about 14 years old, wearing a black AWC logo t-shirt and blue jean cut off shorts. He climbs over the barrier and walks into the ring. Mapleleaf grins at him, shaking the young man’s hand.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Congratulations, young man! Looks like you have a chance to win you and everyone else in here a car! Then you can have a car the DAY you turn 16. Tell me, what is your name?
Kid: Peter.
Patrick Mapleleaf: All right, Petey… have at it! Oh wait, I almost forgot!
Mapleleaf pulls a blindfold out of his pants pocket. He ties it around Peter’s head and over his eyes.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Couldn’t make it THAT easy!
Mapleleaf smiles and winks.
Patrick Mapleleaf: All right Petey… ready?
Peter: Ready.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Ready… set… whack!
Peter whacks the piñata. He hits it right in the center. It breaks apart, but a thick, brown, slimey goo falls on him instead of candy. The piñata, filled with slime, empties its contents on a bewildered Peter’s head. Mapleleaf begins to laugh hysterically. The fans boo.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Oh wow!! Looks like I accidentally left the car piñata at home. I brought my “brown slime” piñata instead. Common mistake, mind you. Oh well, better luck next time, Petey! HAHAHAHA!!!
Peter leaves the ring, toweling off, looking disgusted. Mapleleaf stands off to the side of the slime.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Stupid kid couldn’t even hit the slime off to the side. Now I gotta stand in an awkward place in the ring. Sadly, Californites, there are no Escorts waiting for you outside. The only “escorts” most of you will be getting is a ride home in a police cruiser because most of you will be caught driving drunk. This is exactly what I’ve been talking about. People in America are so greedy and materialistic that they will go to any lengths to get something that they don’t deserve. Petey here… I’m sure he’s a good kid… but does he deserve a car? Absolutely not. None of you do!
The fans boo in response. Mapleleaf just nods.
Patrick Mapleleaf: People hate to hear the truth, and it is a bitter pill to swallow…oh, before I continue, let me get out of this suit.
Mapleleaf begins to tear off the tuxedo. Underneath, he is wearing tan dress pants and a purple shirt tucked in. The shirt reads “California Sucks” in yellow letters. The fans boo loudly in response.
Patrick Mapleleaf: Why don’t you close your traps and open your ears and listen to me? The fact is, you all fell for an obvious trick… a trick that your half-witted President could have even seen coming, all because of the prospect of greed. You all make me sick. You should be ashamed of yourselves!
Mapleleaf takes his hair out of a ponytail and continues.
Patrick Mapleleaf: But I didn’t come here tonight to lecture. I’m here because I have a job to do. My job tonight is to gamble. That’s right, I am gambling tonight. The odds are against me. I have a 1 in 4 chance of winning tonight. 25%. That means that three times out of four, I am going to lose. Except it’s not that simple. There are no four times. There is only once. This isn’t a game. Titan, John Edwards, what’s his name, and I all have one common goal: we want to win. We want to make our impact on the Atlantic Wrestling Club. Desire is not the issue. Talent is the issue. After tonight, my friends… we will know who truly deserves to carry on and become the next top star of AWC. I am gambling. I am putting my entire future at risk in just one night. I am fighting for the honor of myself and my country. Unlike Americans, we Canadians aren’t fighting to protect our rich President’s oil fields… we fight for honor, and we fight to win. Also, I have a bet riding on this fight. If I win, Tina Marshall is gonna do that thing with her tongue, and… well, I’ve said too much. That’s all I gotta say, so you all can go suck a lemon!
“Oh, Canada” plays again. Mapleleaf walks out of the ring, the goo and the remains of his tuxedo still behind in the ring. He walks up the ramp, insulting the fans all the way as he does. He is yelling unintelligible rants, but one sounds like “Respect the anthem, beeoch!” He exits the arena through the top entrance way.
George Cassidy: Why’ve we been so quiet?
Truth Waters: Pat doesn’t write commentary.
George Cassidy: Oh. Well, back in-character: best… signing… ever!
Truth Waters: Perhaps if he concentrated on wrestling rather than… piñatas, he’d impress me too... but I highly doubt it.
Katerina Zagarovsky vs Laura Winters
STIPULATION: NEWCOMERS' SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: JOSH YOUNG
George Cassidy: Up next we have the privilege of calling the debut between Laura Winters and Katrina Za… Zarg... Zargo… whatever!
Truth Waters: I'm looking forward to a good old catfight Cassidy!
George Cassidy: I think you're going to be disappointed Truth, Laura Winters calls herself “The Queen of Submissions”. That would tell me there’s a little more to her than handbags and fingernails.
Truth Waters: You make a good point Cassidy, but let’s not forget Katrina Zar... Zargow… ZEDD… She has some impressive martial arts background. This should be a one hell of a bout!
James Brunt: The following is a singles match. Introducing first, from Moscow, Russia, weighing in at 125 pounds… KATERINA ZAGAROVSKY!
Katerina walks down to the ring with no entrance music and marching down to the ring focused on her match.
The lights in the arena grow somehow brighter, tinted with a light blue hue. For a few moments, seeing anything is impossible. This blinding brightness corresponds with the opening of Within Temptation’s “Ice Queen”.
When leaves have fallen
And skies turned to grey.
The night keeps on closing in on the day
A nightingale sings his song of farewell
You better hide for her freezing hell
From behind the curtain emerges the self-proclaimed “Queen of Submission”, Laura Winters. The queen is clad in a long, purple robe as she walks up the aisle way, eyes focused intently on her opponent.
On cold wings she's coming
You better keep moving
For warmth, you'll be longing. Nightingale
Come on just feel it
Don't you see it?
You better believe.
She shrugs out of the robe, handing it to an official at ringside. Wearing her usual pink and blue lycra singlet, she enters the ring, still glaring daggers at her opposition.
When she embraces
Your heart turns to stone
She comes at night when you are all alone
And when she whispers
Your blood shall run cold
You better hide before she finds you
Settling back into the corner, the former Primetime Central Tag Team champion begins to stretch out as her music finishes, simply waiting for the bell to ring and the contest to commence.
Whenever she is raging She takes all life away Haven't you seen? Haven't you seen? The ruins of our world
DING, DING, DING
Truth Waters: This match is underway and both in the same position here in AWC, both have a lot to prove!
Winters kicks things off by swiping a fist towards Katerina who backs off holding up her guard as she takes a martial art stance. Katerina glares towards her slightly larger foe.
George Cassidy: Each female staring each other down
Zagarovsky strikes Winters with round house kick to the ribs releasing a loud martial arts grunt. Laura stumbles to the side before backing off.
Truth Waters: They're testing each other at the moment trying to psych each other out. Both have very focused style, which require a lot of quick thinking.
Katerina steps forward to deliver another round house kick to Winters, but Winters foresees then move and counters by catching the leg of Zagarovsky and sweeping her to the floor but still maintaining her grip on the leg. Winters swiftly takes advantage and applies a half crab on Katerina Zagarovsky!
Truth Waters: Already Winters has fixed one of her deadly submissions on Zagarovsky, Winters wasting little time to work her magic.
Katerina expels sounds of pain as Winters wrenches further adding more strain on her leg. Katerina however thinks fast and manages to twist her body round on to her back to deliver the sole of her shoe right in to Winters’ face. Winters recoils holding her nose as Katerina finds her bearings. Zagarovsky waits for Winters to pulls her self back off the floor. Before Winters can shake the cobwebs off Katerina darts forward with a palm thrust to the face, putting all her weight behind the strike, which forces Laura in to the corner.
George Cassidy: Katerina Zagarovsky, hey I did it! …is taking it to Laura Winters so far she's in control, she has Winters backed up in that corner!
Truth Waters: I still can't pronounce it!
George Cassidy: It's like this. Zag-are-off-ski... I think...
Katerina persists with her assault with a combination of kick and punches to the body of Laura Winters. Winters attempts to protect her body by cover her ribs with her arms but Katerina continues to try and wear Winters down. Zagarovsky takes a step back to allow room to perform a deadly spin kick to Winters head, but Winters uses her speed to duck the kick and slide underneath Katerina's legs. She gets to her feet before Katerina can turn around allowing Winters to ground her with a chop block.
Truth Waters: Winters now regains control as Zagarovsky is now on the floor holding her knee after that chop block!
Winters capitalizes straight away by preparing Katerina for a figure four leg log. Zagarovsky tries to resist but Winter's weakens her by driving the heel of her boot in to Katerina's stomach. Laura executes the move putting excessive pressure on the knee she previous chop blocked.
George Cassidy: A well though out combination there by the Queen of Submission. She has Katerina right where she wants her!
Truth Waters: Well. Not really Cassidy because she’s right near the ropes.
Katerina quickly reaches for the nearest rope to break the hold, but Winters maintains the move for as long as she can as referee Michael Ryan begins the count.
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIV-
Winters releases the hold and backs off as Zagarovsky rolls around clutching her knee. Winters wastes little time and drags Zagarovsky into the centre of the ring. Winters applies yet another submission in the form of another half crab on Katerina's weakened knee.
Truth Waters: Winters is very smart here by trying to take out the knee of Katerina that would be most of her arsenal immobilized.
Katerina yells out in pain over the move and Winters with a very focused gaze shows no mercy. Michael Ryan kneels down to see whether Katerina will or will not tap but Winters releases the move.
George Cassidy: It looks like Winters isn't looking to end it yet
Truth Waters: It would see that she is trying to break her down before putting her away, like lego.
George Cassidy: Lego?
Truth Waters: Yeah, you break it down and put it away after you've done playing with it.
George Cassidy: Never say that again!
Winters now looking more comfortable as she increases her control over the match drags Katerina to her feet. Katerina comes across a bit groggy. Winter whips Katerina against the ropes, Katerina comes rebounding back and Winters catches her with a crossface chicken wing! Before Winters can cinch it in Katerina counters with an elbow in to the gut of Winters. Winter backs off but still tries to fix the hold in. Zagarovsky reacts with a jaw break on Winters, sending her stumbling back against the ropes.
George Cassidy: A move out of desperation there, but it worked for her!
Truth Waters: Let’s see if she can capitalize on that.
Katerina launches herself off the adjacent ropes and clotheslines Winters over the top rope to the floor outside, making a crumpling sound as she meets the floor. Katerina uses the opportunity to relax her worn down knee, whilst on the outside Winters climbs back to an upright position. Katerina observes and bounces off the ropes again, this time to deliver a baseball slide to the back of Winters, forcing her against the barrier.
Truth Waters: Zagarovsky is back in this now!
George Cassidy: Winters is getting back in to the ring now.
Laura Winters rolls under the bottom rope and re-enters the ring. Zagarovsky takes a squatting stance as she waits for Winters to get up right. Winter is now standing up and Katerina launches a savage thrust kick, however Winters once again catches Katerina's kick. Zagarovsky thinks fast and delivers an insuguri, instantly flooring Winters. Zagarovsky makes the 1st cover of the match.
ONE!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Not quite!
Truth Waters: This is getting interesting.
Katerina grabs two handfuls of Winters' hair and pulls her back to her feet and sets her up for northern lights suplex, which she delivers with great impact! Winters holds her neck in pain whilst Zagarovsky leaps to the top rope. Katerina jumps off the rope gunning for a leg drop but Winters rolls out the way in time making Zagarovsky land on her arse! Katerina’s face expresses pain as she holds her butt in agony!
George Cassidy: Both women are down!
Truth Waters: Michael Ryan begins to count them out.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Laura Winters show the 1st signs of life as she attempts to sit up whilst holding her head, still feeling the affects of the suplex.
FOUR!
FIVE !
SIX!
Katerina shakes off the cobwebs and gets up to her knees
SEVEN!
Winters is the first to her feet and she heads straight for Zagarovsky. Zagarovsky sees her coming and floors her with a drop toe hold followed by an arm bar. Winters counters with head scissors and begins to choke Katerina with her legs. Michael Ryan breaks the hold, which angers Winters who didn't intend on making it a choke. Laura shakes her head and begins to assault Katerina. She picks her up to her feet and attempts to whip her to the corner, which is swiftly reversed in to a counter in the form of another whip. Winter is now backed in the corner with Zagarovsky heading towards her. Winters bursts out of the corner with a fire in her eyes. She brutally delivers a series of roundhouse kicks to Katerina and delivers one more to the knee of Zagarovsky, making it buckle.
Truth Waters: Here it comes!
George Cassidy: She calling for it! WINTERS' DISCONTENT!
Truth Waters: It's some kind of blend of several different submission moves!
Katerina begins to fade as Winters fully cinches it in!
George Cassidy: Like a bear in a bear trap, there is no known escape from this move!
Katerina uses her free arm to try and drag her way over to the near by rope, by Winters grabs the arm and pulls it up and over to prevent her from escaping! Katerina screams out in pain and has no choice but the tap out.
Truth Waters: This one’s over! Laura Winters picks up an impressive first win here on Fresh!.
James Brunt: The winner… LAURA WINTERS!
Red Rock Has My Blessing
FEATURING: THE FARMER, BOOLIE
AUTHOR: RYAN KEANEY
“Boolie…”
Calling out his name down the corridor, The Farmer had given up on finding Steven Xandrous. He wasn’t in his locker room and no one, it seemed, had seen the Livewire champion or if they did, they had taken a sudden disliking of The Farmer and weren’t telling him.
Boolie, who had been facing away from The Farmer was completely around as Mickey reached him in the corridor.
Boolie: Yes?
His voice was totally disproportionate from his body as he answered Mickey’s call.
The Farmer: T’ll yer l’ver R’cky ‘hat I h’pe ‘e k’cks fook out o’ X’ndroos!
For a couple of seconds, Boolie gives The Farmer a blank look as though he is totally lost as to what he has just seen, but then that period of actually retrieving English from the Irishman’s mouth kicked in and Boolie nodded his acceptance of the Eire Og member’s support of his friend. Granted there was a gay in there, did you spot it? but Boolie left it alone and plodded along on his way.
Mickey stood still for a second, and then realised his tag match was up next. He wasn’t even sure if Paddy was at the arena.
The Worst Segment Ever
FEATURING: n/a
AUTHOR: JAMES VARGA
The crowd is buzzing when something appears on the screen. It looks like an... AIM convo?
jamesvargaNWC: Dude, I can't think of a seg for the AWC show.
adamnaporlee: So why are you telling me?
jamesvargaNWC: I dunno.
adamnaporlee: Like I know anything about that.
jamesvargaNWC: Are you ever going to write a promo for Cave Hulk?
adamnaporlee: No.
jamesvargaNWC: Fucker.
adamnaporlee: Asshole.
jamesvargaNWC: I did your girlfriend last night.
adamnaporlee: How could you? She lives in Washington.
jamesvargaNWC: I used the Matrix and came through the phone into her bedroom fucker.
adamnaporlee: LOL
jamesvargaNWC: Yeah. I gave it to her hard too.
adamnaporlee: You dumbass.
jamesvargaNWC: At least I got laid last night.
adamnaporlee: What were we talking about?
jamesvargaNWC: ...
jamesvargaNWC: I forgot.
adamnaporlee: This is retarded.
jamesvargaNWC: Oh yeah. The segment.
adamnaporlee: Right. My answer is... I dunno.
jamesvargaNWC: Maybe I'll just send this in.
adamnaporlee: ROFL. That'd be funny as hell.
jamesvargaNWC: You want me to do it?
adamnaporlee: Yeah.
jamesvargaNWC: It's done.
adamnaporlee: Cool.
jamesvargaNWC: So what are we going to do now?
adamnaporlee: Act stupid?
jamesvargaNWC: Yeah because that's what we do best.
adamnaporlee: You know it.
jamesvargaNWC: This SO breaks kayfabe.
The convo suddenly disappears and everyone is left thinking "What the hell was that?"
Emerald Isle II vs Deliverance
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: JOSEPH REID
AUTHOR: PAT SUPPAN
Truth Waters: Well our next match is going to be a good one. It seems we'll be getting the pleasure of a duo tag match tonight.
George Cassidy: Yeah well frankly I don't like any of these guys to be honest but hey that's just my opinion. I am excited to see if someone will do something to impress me tonight though.
Truth Waters: Right we’re all here to impress you...
George Cassidy: You got that right. But than again it's hard these days with the lack of talent anywhere, don't get me wrong AWC is filled with some good guys, but to impress...
Truth Waters: Anyways how about we get onto this match. Tonight we’re going to see Emerald Isle II take on Deliverance!
As the crowd turns we are graced with "Another Brick in the Wall" by Korn as out steps the team of Crucifix and Ghost. The fans cheer as both stars make their way down to the ring. They stop along the way to talk about their match most likely and also point to some fans.
George Cassidy: What the hell are they doing?
Truth Waters: ...
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match. Introducing first, at a combined weight of 450 pounds, Crucifix and Ghost... DELIVERANCE!
The crowd cheers as both men enter the ring and both go to the far corners and hop up and raise their arms to interact with the fans.
Truth Waters: An impressive cheer early in their career for this team; we obviously have fans of their antics last week, and look at them together, they really go well together; I think we’re in for a good match here.
George Cassidy: Whatever.
As their music pipes down "You'll never beat the Irish" by the Wolfe Tones is blared across the arena. And without delay out from the curtains steps the team of Emerald Isle II with proud looks on their faces, you can hear the fans cheer a lot more as they make their way towards the ring. O'Shea on the way to the ring stops to slap a few hands and greet some of his fans.
Truth Waters: Here’s the REAL popularity coming out to play.
James Brunt: And their opponents, at a combined weight of 413 pounds, Paddy O'Shea and Michael Fitzpatrick-McCarthy... the AWC Alliance champions, EMERALD ISLE! ...Two.
George Cassidy: Of course, this is a non-title match against the newcomers.
The fans once again come to a loud cheer as they both climb into the ring and get set for their match.
Truth Waters: Alright as we take stand here I think we’re in for a doozy, we got four wrestlers here and all four have one thing on their mind.
George Cassidy: And what might that be?
Truth Waters: Winning.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
O'Shea and Ghost begin the match as they face each other they lock up quickly and Ghost answers first with a shove right to the ground on O"Shea. He quickly gets back up and shakes his head. Ghost goes in for another lockup and this time O'Shea hits him with a boot to the mid-section. Ghost takes a step back and rubs his stomach a little bit. It doesn't quite seem to faze him. O'Shea kind of smiles and than goes for another boot to the mid-section but this time Ghost grabs his foot and spins him around quickly and than nails him with a clothesline. As O'Shea hits the floor his head bounces off the mat with a thud.
George Cassidy: Oh man he is going to feel that one in the morning, I can just tell!
Truth Waters: No question there, Ghost really connected with that one.
Ghost now looks around and has a pretty happy look on his face, he picks up O'Shea now and throws him into the ropes. On the return he gets ready for O'Shea but he ended up staring at a diving O'Shea with quick reflexes he grabs him in mid-air and than slams him down to the mat with a powerslam! McCarthy now trying to get the crowd to shift momentum he begins to pound on the turnbuckle, but so far it's not so good. Ghost strolls back over and picks up O'Shea and throws him into the corner this time. O'Shea hits the corner and almost droops down but catches himself somewhat to keep himself up.
Truth Waters: This cannot be good. O'Shea could really use a shift in the match right now, Ghost has got something going for him though so...
Ghost now running towards O'Shea for a splash in the corner...No! O'Shea moves at the last second and Ghost catches nothing but turnbuckle! The fans are beginning to stir now as this match just got more interesting.
Truth Waters: Oh can you believe that! Ghost I think must've had the wind knocked right out of him!
George Cassidy: Common mistake for a rookie here in AWC, screw things up when fighting an irish man.
Ghost now wobbling around with his back turned to O'Shea, O'Shea is just waiting for that right moment... Ghost turns around and O'Shea with a running dropkick to the face of Ghost knocking him flat on his back! O'Shea quickly gets back up and he raises his arms and cheers to get the crowd on his side again. O'Shea picks up Ghost and brings him over to his corner with McCarthy and tags him in.
Truth Waters: Fresh tank of gas. This is just what the doctor ordered.
McCarthy puts Ghost in the corner and begins to pummel him with lefts and rights and they seem to get faster as the count goes up, finally as Ghost looks as if he has had enough, he brings him closer to the ropes and throws him to the other side, again on the return he goes for clothesline but Ghost with what little energy he has, he ducks the clothes and bounces off the ropes and on the next return he clotheslines McCarthy to the ground, doesn't seem to phase McCarthy though as he gets right back and punches Ghost square in the kidney's. Ghost answers back though with a solid shot right to the jaw and both men continue to throw punches back and forth.
George Cassidy: I think we have a boxing match on our hands now! This is finally going to get good.
Truth Waters: What do you mean? This entire match has being great so far, plus if you want to see boxing...
George Cassidy: No no, I merely meant it's a nice change of pace.
Finally Crucifix can't stand no more and climbs into the ring to get McCarthy's attention which he does and kicks McCarthy in the stomach and sends him to the mat head first with a ddt! The fans seem to be on their feet now as this match is getting more interesting, as Joseph Reid tries to get Crucifix to the corner, Ghost finally regains some wind and heads towards his corner, but is now met with a standing McCarthy!
Truth Waters: What is this guy....superman?!?
Ghost than punches McCarthy in the mid-section and slaps him into a pump-handle slam, which he executes sending him crashing to the mat. Ghost himself falls face forward and now we have two men down.
George Cassidy: Get up you bums! Come on!
Truth Waters: This is just getting better, that pump-handle slam was just perfect!
Crucifix is now jumping and is getting very antsy to get into the ring, but it seems as if both wrestlers have the same idea, go for the tag. As Ghost inches closer, McCarthy seems to show some life as he slowly gets up to his feet, he shakes off the hurt and hobbles over and tags in O'Shea. Just as O'Shea climbs in, Ghost finally tags in Crucifix and were back to two refreshed wrestlers.
Truth Waters: Now this is going to get interesting.
Crucifix and O'Shea start charging at one another, but it is Crucifix who prevails with a spear sending O'Shea crashing to the mat, as he hits the ground he begins swinging trying his best to put all he's got into O'Shea. The crowd now going nuts, as Crucifix steps up to his feet, McCarthy now steps out and runs towards him but he is hit now with a powerslam! Ghost tries hard to get back into the ring and he walks over to get McCarthy out of the ring, he picks him up and tosses him to the outside where he so follows.
Truth Waters: Now that could get ugly, who knows what could happen on the outside.
George Cassidy: Are you always this talkitive? Because I thought you weren't, maybe I'm wrong?
Truth Waters: Don't get me started on you, trust me that's the last thing you'd want.
Crucifix now in the ring, picks up O'Shea and nails him with a snap DDT! He gets back up this time and heads for the ropes, as he is climbing the top ropes he notices O'Shea starting to stir, he decides to cut his time short and leaps off the ropes and drives down hard with a top rope leg drop! On the outside both Ghost and McCarthy seem to be short-winded and also not paying attention to the match on the inside. Crucifix now rolls over and hooks the leg for a pin. Reid goes for the count!
ONE!
TWO!
THR-
O'Shea kicks out at two and half! Crucifix now stands back up and points to the top rope yet again. The fans cheer him on as he makes his way to the rope again, this time his back turned to O'Shea. Crucifix now with a leap backwards and goes for an Asai moonsault, just as he descends O'Shea lifts his knees up and Crucifix lands right on top bouncing off and holding his stomach in pain.
Truth Waters: Did you see that? Crucifix could have broken some ribs there!
George Cassidy: What no blood?
As all hell is breaking loose Reid looks at all four men and is starting to get worries this may get out of control, finally he goes to the outside and breaks apart McCarthy and Ghost, both men looking tired and ready to call it quits. Reid sends them back to their respective corners and climbs back in the ring now, O'Shea is finally showing some movement as he is at a knee now, but Crucifix is still down on the ground holding his abdomen. The ref looks as if he going to start a count now, but O'Shea is back up to his feet now...not very coherent but none the less on his feet. He walks over to Crucifix and picks up to his knees, he raises his fist and begins to throw punches at Crucifix. Finally he stops and he picks up Crucifix to his feet, he picks him up and than drops him into a Manhattan drop, the fans cringe as he hits this move. He runs backwards into the ropes and bounces off nailing him with a dropkick sending Crucifix back to the mat. Reid now again going for the count.
Truth Waters: Nice dropkick and now the pinfall.
ONE!
TWO!
Crucifix with the kickout! O'Shea is looking a little frustrated now, he walks over and tags in McCarthy and he enters the ring. McCarthy picks up Crucifix and throws him into the ropes, on the return he goes for a spinning elbow to Crucifix but he catches him and goes for an atomic drop but can't quite get him up, as he falls back down McCarthy punches him once in the head and than ends up turning it around into a reverse DDT!
Truth Waters: I think that could do it! We may have winners here finally! Reid goes for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
"You'll never beat the Irish" by the Wolfe Tones begins playing as The Farmer gets up and wobbles around the ring, what a match this has being, he goes over to O'Shea and they both congratulate each other on a well fought match. The fans cheer as this duo tag match comes to an end.
James Brunt: The winners... EMERALD ISLE II!
George Cassidy: Bah I was still hoping Crucifix would keep going, but I guess McCarthy gave him too much.
Truth Waters: Well a hard fought match none the less, all four of these men will be remembered for a job well done.
The End For The Educator
FEATURING: DAVID "PEARL" HARBER, THE EDUCATOR
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
The silence is oppressive.
We’ve seen this meeting room before, or at least, one very similar to it. The long table with the upright chairs and David Harber seated at one end and The Educator at the other, the two constantly looking to one-up each other... but not this time. Adam Masters, the former triple champion, now bereft of gold, lets his shoulders slump as Pearl stares piercing holes through him.
Pearl: Why did you do it?
The Educator shakes his head.
The Educator: What are you talking about?
Pearl: You know what I'm talking about. Prometheus...
Educator laughs.
The Educator: Prometheus? You don’t even know what it is. I made it, anyway.
Pearl raises an eyebrow.
Pearl: That isn’t what I’ve heard.
The Educator: Well, I didn’t really, but I have close connections, through English universities, you know. It’s a long story.
Pearl: We’ve got time.
The Educator: No... I’d tell you, but I can’t. I promise you though, it’s really interesting...
Harber clears his throat.
Pearl: I don’t have time for this. Just tell me where and how you got the Serum –
The Educator: You think I stole it?
Pearl: I have no idea.
The Educator: Ha! I didn’t steal that!
David Hedley’s head pops round the door.
David Hedley: Actually, yes he did.
The Educator: Alright, yes I did, but I didn’t mean to. I didn’t have a choice...
Pearl: I'm disappointed, you know. That’s how you won your three titles? Now what am I going to do? You do realise these are valid grounds for me to terminate your contract.
The Educator: Alright, but I’ll come back.
Pearl: No... you won’t.
The Educator: How do you know? I’ll... change my name!
Harber lets a slow smile spread over his face.
Pearl: Whatever you say.
The Educator: So that’s... it?
Pearl: Not quite. These people who defeated, these fans you duped, have a right to know just how, just what you did to unlawfully obtain three championship belts in one night. I must admit, I personally don’t totally understand how the Prometheus Serum works. So I’ve got an expert coming to Fresh! next week... you might know him, Masters. His name’s Dr. Kasidy Drake.
Educator’s face falls.
Pearl: Oh, so you did steal it?
The Educator tries to protest, but Harber stands firmly.
Pearl: Get out!
The Educator: But it’s really interesting...
Team Super Evil vs T.T.S.
STIPULATION: DUO TAG
REFEREE: AARON DAVIES
AUTHORS: DAVE LARKIN, THE PED' AND ANGUS SINCLAIR
Truth Waters: I’m still finding it hard to believe that we’re back in the job, Cassidy. It’s been so long, and yet we’ve meshed so well together. Like we’ve never been apart, huh?
George Cassidy: Okay, putting my scepticism about your sexuality aside for a moment, we did have that moment at the Battle of Britain on the bus. Being a guest commentator rocked.
Truth Waters: But the travelling to London was better. Anyway, up next is a duo tag match where Team Super Evil, quite possibly the strangest team name ever, take on T.T.S. What does that stand for? I’m out of touch with AWC.
George Cassidy: You mean you haven’t been watching at all?
Truth Waters: I tried, but my wife… she’s been on my back.
George Cassidy: See, wives don’t work. End of story.
Truth Waters: Isn’t it Trendy Twenty-Something’s?
George Cassidy: Correct. How did you get that all of a sudden?
Truth Waters: Just off the top of my head.
James Brunt stands in the middle of the ring, waiting for the boisterous crowd to calm before he announces the stipulations of the upcoming contest.
Truth Waters: Everybody shut up! Brunty wants to speak.
George Cassidy: The only thing that ever comes out of his mouth is drivel.
James Brunt: The following is a Duo Tag match.
“Dybbuk” by Gackt plays over the P.A. system and Team Super Evil, made up of Gakuto and Tamura, appear from behind the curtain to a decent pop from the fans, who are not quite accustomed to these men yet. Team Super Evil rush down to the ring, not wasting any time to prepare themselves for this match.
James Brunt: Introducing first, at a combined weight of 384 pounds… “Super American” Gakuto and “Mr. Evil” Tamura… TEAM SUPER EVIL!
Truth Waters: Whoa, what’s the rush with these guys? They could have tripped on the way down the ramp way… maybe even died.
George Cassidy: Do you have a problem tonight? You’ve been acting extremely strange.
Truth Waters: No, no. Just glad…
George Cassidy: Glad? For what? Your life? What?
Truth Waters: I’m not saying…
George Cassidy: Fine, stay being Mr. Cryptic. See if I care.
TSE psyche each other up with some encouraging words as “Get A Move On” by Mr. Scruff plays all around the arena. The team of T.T.S., seemingly not too popular with the fans, get a serious amount of boos from the crowd. Several signs in the crowd cannot be shown due to their expletives and other words and drawings all against T.T.S. Nevertheless, Harry and John make their way down to the ring, cautious as they approach the apron.
James Brunt: And their opponents, at a combined weight of 550 pounds… Harry and John… THE TRENDY TWENTY-SOMETHINGS!
Truth Waters: I’m not sure what to make of this upstart team, but I think I’m going to learn to like them.
George Cassidy: I respect their ability. Until they pull something amazing out of the bag, I’ll only be on scale 2 of my scale of awe.
Truth Waters: Your what?
George Cassidy: That’s right, the scale of awe! It’s George Cassidy’s patented scale to judge superstars. You, Truth, don’t even register on my oh-so-cool scale.
Truth Waters: I’m hurt by that comment.
George Cassidy: And so you should be. I’m too exclusive for you.
T.T.S. enter the ring, instantly rushing at TSE and taking them down with what appears to be a variation of a rugby tackle. TSE fight back well, though, and find themselves taking advantage with basic offence against T.T.S. Harry grabs Tamura and throws him over the top rope just as John is flattened by a spinning kick from Gakuto. The referee deems John and Gakuto to be the legal men as he orders Harry to return to his corner.
Truth Waters: Tamura’s outside the ring temporarily. Anything could have happened to him. Until he’s back on the apron - and he’s back on the apron!
George Cassidy: You tried to be Mr. Know-It-All commentator, but no! That title will always belong to moi.
Gakuto begins his unusual offence on John with a spinning leg drop across the throat. Gakuto lifts John up, slaps him across the face, and delivers an awesome DDT. John is left reeling on the mat just as Harry reaches out for the tag. Tamura wants in, and Gakuto obliges. Tamura flips himself into the ring and drops an elbow on John’s chest. Tamura makes the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
And the cover is broken up by Harry. Tamura reacts angrily, but the referee can only admonish Harry. John recovers quickly, tripping Tamura up with a kick to the back of the knee. Tamura goes down suddenly and John begins to beat Tamura down with stomps and a vicious kick to the side of the head.
Truth Waters: Ooh! I felt that.
George Cassidy: Ruthless superstars, these Trendy Twenty-Somethings.
John picks Tamura up, talks some trash, then slaps Tamura several times in the face. Tamura lashes out with an uppercut which could dislocate a jaw, then spears John to the mat. Tamura drags John to his feet, whips him off the ropes skilfully, and drops him with a side headlock takedown. Tamura keeps John on the mat as Team Super Evil begin to build some momentum.
Truth Waters: Team Super Evil are supposed to be evil. Why are they so liked by these fans?
George Cassidy: Don’t let the name fool you. These two will suck up to anyone they can. Yesterday, they tried to bribe me out of my lunchtime sandwich. Nobody takes my sandwich!
Truth Waters: Whoa, it’s just a sandwich, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Not to me it isn’t.
Tamura brings John up to his feet and makes the hot tag to Gakuto, who storms into the ring, knocking Harry off the apron and nailing a mean double team flapjack on John. Gakuto continues the impressive momentum with a whip off the ropes, but it is telegraphed by John. John dives to the corner theatrically to tag his partner, but he’s not there, having been knocked off the apron. Gakuto pulls John back into the middle of the ring by his leg and delivers a swift elbow drop to the back, causing John’s upper-body to reel up in a strange see-saw affect.
George Cassidy: Now a man who cares about his food is an honest one. And what he eats is important, too. It’s like that saying…how’s it go again?
Truth Waters: …“You are what you eat”?
George Cassidy: …Yeah, that’s the one. See, a guy like you, for instance – what did you have for lunch today?
Truth Waters: Umm, we’re in the process of commentating a wrestling match. You do realise that, right?
Meanwhile, in the ring - well, more specifically, on the apron – Harry deals with a troublesome Tamura with a dismissive mule kick. Brushing the proverbial dirt from his bare shoulder, he clambers between the ropes and into the ring. Gakuto turns away from his prone victim to become acquainted with Harry’s fist.
George Cassidy: … See, a guy like you, for instance – what did you have for lunch today?
John clambers onto Gakuto’s floored body, locking in a camel clutch, and in response Harry runs off the ropes and returns with a dropkick to Gakuto’s face. What follows is an extremely fast and carefully contrived series of flowing dropkicks, camel clutches, backdrops and elbows… Much like the Backseat Boyz’s “dream sequence”, with the main difference being that the Backseats’ never cause Truth Waters to…
Truth Waters: Doublemochalattefrappacino….DECAF!
George Cassidy: A coffee drinker, eh? That explains a lot.
Truth Waters: What?... Oh – no, that’s not what I had for lunch, that’s the name of that move we just saw.
George Cassidy: … …?
Truth Waters: … You know – in that wrestling match we just saw. The one that just won the T.T.Ses the match?
George Cassidy: Oh, that… Yeah great… Hold up! I thought you didn’t even know these T.T.S’ names, yet now you know the full name of their super-long finishing move!?
The T.T.Ses celebrate in the ring, Truth stutters out a an impromptu lied explanation and the scene cuts elsewhere… All at the same time.
First Time For Everything
FEATURING: TIM SHIPLEY, MADDY ESTELLE
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Tim Shipley’s never done an interview for AWC.
Core Wrestling was the same, for a while, but once the freshman had got a clue, he became more comfortable with the idea of trashing his feud rival Jake Summers to an appreciative crowd.
Then Tony Aliso’s death forced an unwanted jump back in time for Shipley, resetting his level of social ability to “retarded”, and he’s never quite picked it up since.
Actually, that’s untrue. Last week, he headbutted The Illustrious Face-Eater. Now that had never happened before. Not even in Core.
So he’s getting there.
But Tim Shipley’s never done an interview for AWC.
Until now.
Maddy Estelle: Atlantic Wrestling Club fans all over the world, I am standing by with Tim Shipley ahead of his main event match-up with The Illustrious Face-Eater!
Tell me something I don’t know, you useless slut. Low-cut top, bare midriff, hotpants... typical working attire, mm?
Shipley dresses a little more sensibly, in his ring wear of white tights with a thin orange stripe down either side. His chest is bare, the few hairs clustered around his breastbone catching the strip lighting from above.
Maddy Estelle: Tim, you lost to The Illustrious Face-Eater last week, so how do you plan to reverse that?
Tim Shipley: Well, it’s a totally different scenario now, Maddy; I’ll be looking to –
Estelle is holding up a hand, her face etched with confusion.
Maddy Estelle: Scene-are-you? Are you... scene?
Shipley stares, his eyes boggling.
Tim Shipley: Are you actually real?
Estelle turns up her nose.
Maddy Estelle: Fine... like anyone understood that... soooooo answer my question in English.
Tim Shipley: As I was saying, I’ll be looking to get in a position where –
Maddy Estelle: Position? You don’t know anything about positions. You –
Estelle runs her finger down Shipley’s chest.
Maddy Estelle: Are a virgin. Am I right?
Shipley narrows his eyes and says nothing. Estelle giggles and continues softly.
Maddy Estelle: It’s OK, I can fix that... do you want to change that?
Maddy looks up at Shipley, doing her best to bat her eyelids, but in fact her mascara is so thick that they’re plastered to her sockets anyway.
Tim Shipley: Yeah, but if your next question is going to be “Fancy the odds on chlamydia?”, no thanks Maddy.
Shy? Wait, is this really Shipley?
Maddy Estelle sneers.
Maddy Estelle: How much did that attitude cost ya?
The old Shipley would have quailed at this point. But this isn’t him.
Tim Shipley: A lot less than those breasts...
He waves a hand in the vague direction of Estelle’s pushed-up balls of plastic. The interviewer purses her lips, and without a witty retort springing to mind, stalks off down the corridor. A slow smile comes to Shipley’s face. As he turns to walk away, his eye catches the camera.
Any other day, his focus would pass over and he’d leave without a second thought.
But tonight is his night, and the focus catches, and he stares into the camera. He’s a real wrestler now. He’s in the realm.
Tim Shipley: If you actually want something productive next time, send Sarah Kennedy my way. And Face-Eater... whoever you are and whatever you want... there’s no going back now. Your cape and your mask and your tricks are no match for the one thing driving me forward... the eternal hope.
Satisfied, Shipley looks into the camera for a few more seconds, savouring the moment of his first direct, coherent address to millions of television viewers, and then turns, striding away down the corridor for one of the biggest matches of his short career.
Steven Xandrous (C) vs Red Rock
STIPULATION: SINGLES
REFEREE: MICHAEL RYAN
AUTHOR: JOE SCHMIDT
George Cassidy: Oh God.
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: It’s time for Red Rock to take Steven Xandrous’ Livewire title. I know exactly what’s going to happen so it’s impossible to be excited for this.
Truth Waters: How do you know that? Steven’s a great competitor; you can’t count him out this early.
George Cassidy: Just you watch…
Guitars slowly kick in, and the lights in the arena fade to a dull red, prompting the fans to go ballistic. It’s the arrival of fan-favorite, Red Rock, who has already made an impressive splash on the AWC.
We all have responsibilities,
we all have a social debt
and if there is a man free of guilt,
I haven't met him yet
With “Blame Thrower” in full effect, Red Rock bursts from the curtains in a fit of joy that sends a lot of the crowd to their feet (if they weren’t already).
James Brunt: Weighing in at some undisclosed amount of pounds that I’ll probably remember NEXT week, RED ROCK!
George Cassidy: Number of pounds, not amount.
Truth Waters: Right, George. Like you really know everything.
Red Rock jumps in the ring, high-fiving a few fans on the way in. He paces in the ring, as the lights return, then dim to darkness.
George Cassidy: It doesn’t matter what happens in the match; Steven no-showed.
Truth Waters: What are you on about?!
Fortune, fame mirror vain, but the memory remains!
Steven Xandrous the Livewire champion, steps out from the black curtain. For a moment, he pauses at the top of the ramp with his arms outstretched, but brings them back quickly in cohesive action with pyros that explode behind him.
The lights return, and Xandrous slowly drags his Livewire title to the ring.
Truth Waters: Steven didn’t no-show! He’s right there.
George Cassidy: (rolls eyes) Eck, noob.
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, hailing from a town here in America (I think), he is the Livewire champion… STEVEN XANDROUS!
The Livewire champion climbs in the ring while James Brunt commits the exact opposite action. The referee calls for the bell, and it doesn’t take long for action to commence.
Truth Waters: Well Xandrous has the height advantage on Red Rock, but the youngster still has his shot here. The two lock up, Xandrous immediately taking heed in this match with Red Rock in a headlock.[/rhyme]
George Cassidy: It’s still no use, Steven!
As Xandrous wrenches on Rock’s neck, the young war-torn superstar (war-torn, referring to the current UWF/AWC situation you ignorant fools!) wraps his arm around Steven’s side, and flips him back and overhead….
…into a bridging back suplex maneuver.
Truth Waters: A reversal! And subsequent cover, this early in the match!
George Cassidy: It’s over.
Truth Waters: You’ve got to be kidding me, Cassidy?
The referee’s hand hits the mat once.
Twice.
Thrice.
We have a new champion.
George Cassidy: Told you (bored).
But Truth Waters can’t respond. His mouth agape, he stares in the ring as “Blame Thrower” plays again, an ecstatic Red Rock jumps to his feet.
James Brunt doesn’t even register that the match is over quickly.
George Cassidy: James! Do your god-damn job!
Brunt jerks himself to attention, and stands holding the Livewire title.
James Brunt: The winner, and new Livewire champion… RED ROCK!
Red Rock snatches the title from Brunt’s hands and hugs it deeply. For a second, it makes him forget his plight between his current promotions, and Paddy O’Shea, and The British Bomber.
Red Rock: This was the best match ever!
Rift
FEATURING: PADDY O'SHEA, MIKE WADE, THE FARMER
AUTHOR: MIKE WADE
We are taken backstage to the locker room of Paddy O’Shea. Paddy, relaxing after his win earlier, is sitting down on a bench at the side of the room and his newly found friend Mike Wade is seated on a steel folding chair in the middle of the room. As we join them they are in mid conversation about something.
Mike Wade: I'm tellin’ you Paddy we can't keep putting up with it.
Paddy O’Shea: Putting up with what?
Mike Wade: This bigotry and overlooking.
Paddy O’Shea: How do ya mean?
Mike Wade: I'll put it to you this way I was screwed last week out of my match the Best Of British 2 and I was screwed into even competing in the first place. I ain't feckin’ British I didn't want to be there.
Paddy O’Shea: I hear ya.
Mike Wade: Yeah forced into a match and then getting screwed out of the W no thanks.
Paddy O’Shea: What do you think we should do?
Mike Wade: Well for one thing we're being too nice...
As Mike is continuing his point Paddy's team mate and fellow Eire Og member, The Farmer makes his way into the room.
Paddy O’Shea: I'm not really followin ya.
The Farmer: What's this?
Mike Wade: I was just telling Paddy about how we're putting up with too much shit here in AWC and it's time us Irish banded together.
The Farmer: Oh yeah?
Paddy O’Shea: I tend to agree.
The Farmer: Are you serious?
Paddy O’Shea: Um... yeah.
Mike Wade: What's the matter?
The Farmer: What's the matter? You debut here waging war on Eire Og and saying we're nothing but "Plastic Paddies" almost kill Paddy in a match against him and now just because you kicked the shit out of a few of Hates minions you think you can just stroll into Eire Og?
Mike Wade: Hey man I never said anything like that.
Paddy O’Shea: Jesus Christ Mickey don't you think yer bein’ a bit harsh?
The Farmer: Oh you're standin’ up for this guy now?
Paddy O’Shea: Mike's me friend.
Mike Wade: Yeah man I mean what did I ever do to you? I just think all us Irish should get along. And the first step is to wage war on all these bigots that are holding us back.
The Farmer: Bigots? The way you say it you'd swear they were wearing hoods.
Mike Wade: Is it raining?
The Farmer: Not those kinda hoods.
Mike Wade: Oh you mean hoods, like slang for condoms. Are they wearing condoms?
Paddy O’Shea: Ha ha. See he's a funny fella.
Mike Wade: Huh?
The Farmer: He's just stupid!
A knock then comes to the door. The Farmer turns back around and opens it. Standing there is a member of the AWC backstage crew.
Backstage Guy: Paddy O’Shea, you're being asked for outside. Pearl needs to talk about something.
Paddy O’Shea: No problem. OK lads I have to go, try and git along while I'm gone huh?
Mike Wade: Not a problem Paddy-o.
The Farmer: Whatever.
Paddy then skips out as Mike stays smiling at him as he leaves. The door closes slowly behind Paddy and Mikes smile turns to an angry frown.
Mike Wade: I see what you're doing.
The Farmer: What I'm doing?
Mike Wade: You're jealous. Trying to drive a rift through me and Paddy. Why can't you accept that we're all friends now.
The Farmer: I've seen what you've done in the past. They don't call you His Swerviness for nothing.
Mike Wade: Damn right. And if you're not feckin’ careful it'll be my fist swerving into your face. How's that?
Mike gets up and goes to walk past the Farmer, until his arm is grabbed and Mickey pulls him face to face.
The Farmer: I'm watching you. Like a God-damned hawk.
Mike Wade: Just try it freak. Just try it. I don't know why you can’t just be happy. Mike Wade is on your team boy, you should be honoured.
The Farmer’s grip gets released as Mike fixes the sleeve of his jumper. He then takes his leave as the Farmer looks at him in disgust.
Tim Shipley vs The Illustrious Face-Eater
STIPULATION: FIRST FINISHER
REFEREE: LARS LARSSON
AUTHOR: PIERRE HYDE
Truth Waters: Cassidy!
George Cassidy: Truth!
Truth Waters: I am TEH hyped! This is our first main event together since July 19th, when The Academy took on Emerald Isle and won their first match together.
George Cassidy: You make it sound like we just got back together in some relationship...
Truth Waters: How is your darling wife?
George Cassidy: Die.
James Brunt: The following is a First Finisher match!
Chants of ”SHIPLEY! SHIPLEY!” are already building around the Selland Arena.
George Cassidy: Tim Shipley seems to have become cool in our absence – and retained a main event slot by the looks of things, as he was in our last main event – but really he’s been well off that pace.
Truth Waters: A lot’s happened in our absence – Kuff McSlade’s gone!
George Cassidy: Ah yes, he was your – ahem – favourite. While mine, The Educator, won three titles on ONE night –
Truth Waters: And promptly lost them all and – well, we know what else is going on with him.
George Cassidy: HE WAS FRAMED!
Truth Waters: Naturally.
George Cassidy: Well, there is a real explanation for what he did, but I can’t tell you. It’s a shame, because it’s really interesting...
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: Introducing first, from Milton Keynes, England, weighing in at 201 pounds... "Summer's Son" TIM SHIPLEY!
George Cassidy: Poor guy. No laptop.
Truth Waters: Come on, he’s not so bad. He’s less of a pussy nowadays. Did you see that headbutt?
George Cassidy: I don’t watch shows that we aren’t on, in protest at being relegated for Mr. Potato-Head and a midget who seems to have illegally immigrated from three different countries at once.
Truth Waters: You seem to have forgotten Hans Heinemann...
George Cassidy: A poor man’s George Cassidy.
Truth Waters: Ego at all?
George Cassidy: It comes with the territory.
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, his expression firm. The fans cheer loudly for the man who they have grown to like. 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 strides down to the ring, smiling appreciatively and applauding the fans.
Truth Waters: The fans here in Fresno could carry him through this, despite the Face-Eater’s demolition of him last week.
George Cassidy: He’s probably still feeling the after-effects of having his own laptop computer smashed over his head. I’ve heard he didn’t react all too well, in both physical and mental terms.
Truth Waters: One thing is for sure, though: he’ll be fired up for this one. Get him, Shipley!
Shipley slides under the bottom rope as his music ends, making way for Coheed & Cambria and “Welcome Home” and a mask and a cape and a Face-Eater.
And boos.
More than ever.
James Brunt: And his opponent... him.
Brunt sneers, bravado oozing through his purple suit as he drops to the outside and calmly watches The Illustrious Face-Eater make his somewhat unconventional way down the ramp.
George Cassidy: Did we miss something? Why doesn’t ring announcer James Brunt like the Face-Eater?
Truth Waters: Oh, they’ve built themselves a little history as you well know, despite your reluctance to admit it. Brunt isn’t being a pussy in the face of fire, either. Solid.
George Cassidy: Er... good?
Shipley bites his lip hard as the Face-Eater slides into the ring, the pain providing a welcome distraction from the tense situation facing him. With vigour, he rushes towards his opponent, surprising TIFE with a fast-paced start; not usually the style of Summer’s Son. A couple of forearm blows to the back prevent Face-Eater from even reaching his feet after entry to the squared circle, and Tim Shipley now bends to take him through in a fireman’s carry.
Truth Waters: A quick start for Shipley, but he’s not forgotten his basics; the fireman’s carry to do – er – absolutely nothing.
George Cassidy: On the contrary Truth! Sure, the fireman’s carry takedown isn’t the most physically punishing, but early in the match it’s as much about mental games as anything, and with that, Shipley has humiliated Face-Eater; he’s made him lose... face.
Truth Waters: To be fair, among this crowd, I don’t think The Illustrious Face-Eater had much to begin with.
Shipley pins TIFE’s shoulders to the mat from behind and then looks to lock in an armbar. Too quick for him, Face-Eater wriggles away and swings an elbow at Shipley, catching him in the sternum. Knowing that his opponent is winded, Face-Eater gets up and sprints into the ropes without a backward glance, hurtling back off with a leaping wheel kick.
George Cassidy: Nice flying kick knocking Shipley down.
Truth Waters: An amateurish mistake from Shipley, letting Facey knock the wind outta him with the elbow strike.
George Cassidy: I'm uncomfortable with you using “amateurish” as an alternative to “n00bish”, seeing as amateur wrestling is just about the greatest variety.
Truth Waters: Yeah, gotta love those facelocks...
Shipley gets up and Face-Eater is on him immediately, a headbutt followed up with a sudden grab of the wrist. Sensing danger at once, Shipley brings an arm down across TIFE’s forearm, breaking his clutch, and snap-kicks him in the ribs.
Truth Waters: An early effort at the Eaterplex, I think!
George Cassidy: Yeah, he grabbed Shipley’s wrist with intent.
Seeing his own chance at an early finish, Tim Shipley guides The Illustrious Face-Eater back into the turnbuckle, and with TIFE’s body still bent, grabs the top rope to swing himself up into The Eternal Hope. Mid-jump, though, Face-Eater rights himself; thinking quickly, Shipley plants both feet sideways against the turnbuckle, then uses the last little bit of momentum from his grip on the top rope to swing sideways, taking Face-Eater out with his legs!
Truth Waters: Like a battering ram! Swung his legs THROUGH the Face-Eater’s head!
George Cassidy: He went for The Eternal Hope, but some quick thinking in a split-second in the air just as Face-Eater stood straight meant that all was not lost.
Truth Waters: The early indications are that these two are going to take any and every opportunity to try and use those finishing moves – that really will be finishers in this match, as soon as one is successfully executed.
With Face-Eater down, Shipley drops to the canvas himself and lays over The Illustrious Face-Eater, wrapping his arms around his opponent’s shoulders and neck in an improvised amateur hold.
Truth Waters: Oh... dear God.
George Cassidy: He’s stretching out the shoulders and upper back in the hope that it’ll keep Face-Eater bent up for longer when he does need to bend up, giving Shipley more time to get The Eternal Hope readied and effected.
Truth Waters: ...Or maybe he just didn’t know what else to do.
Behind the mask, Facey smiles, as he slowly stretches out a teasing leg and taps gently on the bottom rope. There goes that plan.
George Cassidy: Face-Eater gets the bottom rope; they were right in the corner from the beginning.
Truth Waters: You know, he’s an arrogant one, Face-Eater. I’d like to punch that smile off his... mask.
The referee for this bout, Lars Larsson, enforces the rope break and Shipley moves away to the centre of the ring, dropping his hands to his sides and leaning forward slightly as he waits poised for TIFE’s next move. With Face-Eater taking his time getting up, chants of support for the Englishman begin.
”LET’S GO SHIP-LEY! LET’S GO SHIP-LEY!”
Truth Waters: They’re taking crowd support to a high degree tonight.
George Cassidy: If ever a wrestler could sit back and ride on a wave of cheers, this is the night and this is the match for Shipley. He’s never been so popular – and never will be again, unless he can somehow dig a win out.
Totally ignoring his waiting opponent, Face-Eater moves out onto the apron and then climbs the turnbuckle. Mystified, Shipley drops his guard and goes tentatively over.
Truth Waters: What the hell is he thinking?
George Cassidy: Temperature’s rising here...
Suddenly, from a standing position on the second turnbuckle on the outside of the ring, Face-Eater grabs the top turnbuckle and vaults over, leading with his legs as he straddles Shipley’s shoulders. Taken by surprise, Shipley throws his hands up to the thighs of TIFE, who rolls back into a hurricanrana – but Shipley’s body doesn’t follow. Gripping Face-Eater’s legs tight, Shipley takes advantage of the pre-made positioning to cross his leg over his nemesis’s back into a Lion Tamer!
George Cassidy: LION TAMER!
Truth Waters: It’s not a Shipley move, it’s not a planned move, but it’s sure as hell an effective one!
Face-Eater screams in pain as Shipley, realising this is something he can do, responds to the questions the crowd are asking by digging his knee into TIFE’s lower back.
Truth Waters: He’s bending the spine DANGEROUSLY here!
George Cassidy: Stretch and compress, stretch and compress... the vertebrae can’t take it over time.
Truth Waters: Not to mention the wrenching motions Shipley is bringing to the Lion Tamer!
An uncharacteristically ugly grin on his face, Tim Shipley almost appears to be taking pleasure in making the Face-Eater suffer.
Truth Waters: This is payback. For Aliso, for Lavelle, for every piece of crap The Illustrious Face-Eater has thrown Tim Shipley’s way... this is payback.
George Cassidy: And he’s loving every second, the sick bastard.
Truth Waters: You’re one to talk!
George Cassidy: I freely admit I love it too. The human body, pushed to extremes...
An audible yell from the Face-Eater seems to have the effect of spurring the fans to realise that this is not just any submission hold; something very real and momentous is happening down in that ring. The floppy blond-brown hair of Tim Shipley falls carelessly down to his neck as he inclines his head back, looking up at the sky, his face muscles tensed with the effort he is having to put into maintaining the severity of this hold. Face-Eater can do nothing, his head crushed on the canvas, his spine bent up against Shipley’s body, his arms trapped. Lars Larsson is in his element.
George Cassidy: And once more the referee asks Face-Eater the question, but the point is, HE CANNOT QUIT! This is a First Finisher match!
Truth Waters: For the second time in as many weeks, special stipulations burn Shipley in his search for a win over his rival.
George Cassidy: That’s true. But I don’t think he minds... this moment can last an eternity for Shipley.
Truth Waters: You’re damn right, and for more than one reason. It’s only a few weeks until summer comes to an end, and the AWC contract expires for “Summer’s Son” Tim Shipley. In no time at all he’ll be back with his books...
George Cassidy: NO LAPTOP!
Truth Waters: Indeed, and that’s inspiring him to increase the punishment here!
George Cassidy: Talk about pain thresholds... How much can Face-Eater take?
Having been in the hold for a good while now, The Illustrious Face-Eater shows little sign of life. Heavy breathing is audible, picked up by the ring microphones, and to his credit, he is not tapping.
Truth Waters: There’s not a hint of giving up.
George Cassidy: He can’t though, Truth...
Truth Waters: Cassidy, that’s a given, but if he wanted out, he’d be tapping like crazy regardless.
This is it for Shipley. A lucky break and he took it, and he’s got The Illustrious Face-Eater where he wants him. Ever since he appeared in AWC, the masked man has tormented Shipley’s every moment, bringing up shadows of a past the young man would rather have forgotten. And Tim Shipley is still none the wiser as to why. Who is The Illustrious Face-Eater? The man behind the mask? He had the chance to find out last week. All he needed to do was pin him. And he had him at his mercy – but in the wrong scenario. The submission hold. And he didn’t get the win. And he lost. Back to square one.
Now
He has him at his mercy. But once more, the stipulations aren’t in favour of the submission hold. And this time, Tim Shipley isn’t going to let the Face-Eater walk all over him. He needs to win. He needs to prove a point. He needs to win.
He relinquishes the hold.
A murmur of discontent; a roar of confusion.
Truth Waters: What?
George Cassidy: He let go! Shipley lays off, releases the Lion Tamer – is this pity?
Truth Waters: No! It’s a will to win! It’s intelligence. The Illustrious Face-Eater is broken for sure – now he just needs to secure the victory by performing The Eternal Hope. And driving into the canvas the head of your bitter rival isn’t a big ask when the adrenaline is pumping through you, let me tell ya.
The Illustrious Face-Eater is flat out on the mat, his chest rising and falling as he desperately oxidises his aching muscles. But this is not the time for sympathy, and Tim Shipley doesn’t allow it, pulling his bitter rival up by the head and whipping him hard into the corner. With no energy to turn and take the impact backwards as is customary, Face-Eater slams into the turnbuckle chest first and staggers back. Shipley spins him around and drives a knee into his gut.
Truth Waters: Here we go!
Excitement describes the state of the fans in the Selland Arena at this moment, the set-up move whipping them into a frenzy as they await with bated breath the move that will end this match. Shipley grabs the top rope and flips himself up, pushing off Face-Eater’s back – and jack-knifes to the mat. The flashbulbs halt in their tracks.
George Cassidy: What – oh! Facey grabbed his arm!
Truth Waters: And he’s still holding it, wrenching on it to pull Shipley to his feet, and you know, I think I see what the Face-Eater has in mind...
Facey pulls Shipley in close and locks his arm between his legs. Boos resonate around as the fans see an outcome they never wanted...
George Cassidy: The Eaterplex ’05... it’s coming...
He lifts...
Truth Waters: It’s over...
He launches...
Heart-in-your-mouth time.
Bulldog!
How did that happen?
It’s called a reversal, fool.
Both men are flat on the mat.
Truth Waters: He reversed!
George Cassidy: Eaterplex turned into a bulldog by Tim Shipley!
Truth Waters: An innovative counter saves the match!
George Cassidy: And what now?
Truth Waters: A little rest...
But contrary to Waters’ expectations, there’s no time for that. Both men are riding high on adrenaline and force themselves to their feet, Face-Eater throwing a sluggish blow that catches Shipley on the side of the head. Shipley ducks and rams his body against Facey’s taking him down with a clutch around the thighs. He then mounts TIFE’s upper body, looking to throw some right hands, but Face-Eater rolls over and himself pins Shipley to the canvas, shortly before grabbing both legs and rolling backwards to catapult Summer’s Son into the ropes! Shipley bounces back off them to land on his back.
George Cassidy: Face-Eater bested Shipley, showing superior strength in not letting the 20-year-old hold him down.
Truth Waters: Shipley flew through the air with that catapult, and the sudden reversal of motion from the bounce of the ropes – aside from making a nice spectacle for the crowd – could have had whiplash-like implications for his neck in particular.
George Cassidy: Come on, that’s not going to be an immediate worry. His immediate worry is survival as Facey brings him up.
The Illustrious Face-Eater Irish-whips Shipley into the opposite corner, following up with a dropkick, which sends Shipley spiralling to the canvas. He now pulls Shipley to his feet once more... and does nothing.
George Cassidy: The Face-Eater is just...
Truth Waters: Standing there. Yeah.
George Cassidy: He’s giving Shipley a chance... I'm not sure it’s such a good idea.
Surprised at what’s going on but too tired to think, Shipley paws at TIFE with a weak right hand. Face-Eater lets him land it, and Shipley repeats, then hits two more.
Truth Waters: There’s something suspicious about this...
Shipley goes for a fifth right hand, and now Face-Eater shoots out a hand and grabs the wrist!
Truth Waters: Told you so!
George Cassidy: He’s a master of mental games... Eaterplex this time?
Truth Waters: I don’t think Shipley will be able to pull off the same trick twice!
Slowly, Facey pulls Shipley in, attaching the pumphandle and lifting. He moves Shipley slowly up, and then comes to a stop, with Shipley balanced exactly in mid-air.
George Cassidy: Stalling...
Truth Waters: That’s exactly the point where Shipley turned it round last time! He’s saying, come on Tim! Reverse it! Here’s your chance! And then just a moment later...
Lars Larsson moves in as Face-Eater channels some more energy, creating momentum from nowhere to push Shipley overhead and land him hard, slamming down in the Eaterplex ’05!
George Cassidy: EATERPLEX!
Truth Waters: Gave him the chance then SNATCHED it away!
The Selland Arena reverberates with intense booing as Larsson calls for the bell. James Brunt sneers at the winner from ringside, refusing to announce his name as Face-Eater stands over Shipley, looking down at him and then up high, deep into the rafters of the arena and out at every corner of the crowd. The night is not Shipley’s after all. Again, the Face-Eater has nullified any momentum Summer’s Son had gained.
George Cassidy: Twice in two weeks, Shipley has been defeated by his bitter rival.
Truth Waters: Could this be the end? Has The Illustrious Face-Eater proven his superiority?
George Cassidy: Oh no, this rivalry will live to see another wrestling ring.
Truth Waters: And that's where we end the show, Cassidy. We leave you with news just breaking that Hate has reportedly confronted David Harber backstage... unfortunately, we can't bring pictures... but word is that he's demanded to be put back in his rightful place on the card.
George Cassidy: Good for him! We can't have the likes of Shipley main eventing.
Truth Waters: Pearl's apparently said that if Hate doesn't apologise... harking back to the Azagtoth attack, of course... he won't let him go against Paddy O'Shea! Now of course that match has been HEAVILY rumoured as a dead cert for AWC's contribution to the big Super Series event on the 28th... could that idea now be discounted from the reckoning?
George Cassidy: I guess you'll have to check the website for any updates on that, as we really are out of time! Next week's show is from Anaheim's Convention Center; we'll see you in seven days!