AWC Fresh!
14th November 2006
Live from the Mandalay Bay Events Center (capacity: 12000), Las Vegas, Nevada, USA
Foreshadowing
A U T H O R : TRENT
AgentDash had been in his room since his arrival at the arena, patiently awaiting the masked man from last week's Fresh! to come out of hiding. He had his prime suspect on paper, and it was only a matter of time before he confronted said person; however, he decided to give them the length of the event to own up. It was not unlike the former agent to hole up like this, but he had called upon Maddy Estelle to conduct her second interview with him in the same amount of weeks. Needless to say, her and the cameraman were on their way.
We join Estelle in the hallway in front of a door. Normally, AWC wrestlers had a piece of paper on their door to indicate whose dressing room that was for the night. Apparently, Cedric Riley had gone out of his way to remove the paper. The door is now only marked by a number – 18. Maddy Estelle knocks lightly on the door, her microphone at ready. The door opens to reveal Cedric Riley, clothed in sweat-pants and a light zip-up hoodie, with a white t-shirt underneath.
Maddy Estelle: Good evening, AgentDash ... you were hoping for an interview?
AgentDash: Unfortunately.
Maddy Estelle: Well, may we come in?
AgentDash: No ... we can do it right here.
Maddy Estelle: Er ... okay.
She squeezes into the frame of the camera next to Cedric Riley, kind of in the middle of the doorway.
Maddy Estelle: First off, AgentDash, what are your thoughts on your bracket semi-final match in GTT against Killean Sirrajin? That seems to be your most glorified position as of right now ...
AgentDash: GTT is an interesting tournament, Maddy. It's touted as the premier invational tournament in all of wrestling, and I am glad to be representing AWC in such a prestigious event. However, let's break down round by round what I've done shall we?
Maddy Estelle: Okay. So Round 1, you beat Jason Payne.
AgentDash: Right. I beat Jason Payne. I mean, I hate to be an asshole, but let's be realistic here ... Jason Payne came over from FW land, which is his first mistake. I'd like to think I had an advantage right off the hop for that very fact – I mean, did you see those fast counts those PTC refs were giving me?
Maddy Estelle: No, I didn't ...
AgentDash: Well, I don't really think it's necessary to repeat myself, but .. they were fast! But that was only a minor reason for my winning, Maddy ... do you want to know another?
Maddy Estelle: I guess so.
AgentDash: Apparently, I had the skill it takes to win a wrestling match due to my ability in writing ten-page novels. Have you ever read a ten-page novel, Maddy?
Maddy Estelle: No, I have not ....
AgentDash: That's what I thought. So I beat Jason Payne, and moved on to a second round match against Karina Wolfenden. Have you ever heard of PRIME, Ms. Estelle?
Maddy Estelle: Yes, I have ...
AgentDash: Of course you have heard of PRIME! PRIME is the balls, everyone has heard of PRIME! ... Anyway, as I was saying, Karina Wolfenden ... well, she decided to drop out of the tournament before I could even face her. So I got a free pass to the next round, which is where I am now ... and I'm going up against Killean Sirrajin. Are you familiar with that name, Maddy?
Maddy Estelle: Yes ... isn't he a former Universal champion?
AgentDash: CORRECT! He was a Universal champion until he lost to ... until he lost to ... until he ... until - AH – AH - AHTCHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Maddy Estelle: Bless you!
AgentDash: Thank you, Maddy .. that was very polite of you. Anyway, as I was saying ... er ... what was I saying?
Maddy Estelle: I don't know ... what were you saying?
AgentDash: The bottom line is that only someone in PRIME can be
CHAMPION OF THE UNIVERSE, Maddy. That's all, really. And I'm going to kick Sirrajin's ass.
Maddy Estelle: Aren't you getting a little cocky here, Dash?
AgentDash: Me? Cocky? No, I don't think so. But as much as I'd like to stay and chat, I need to prep for my match. My stance on the position with the masked man remains – I am giving them until the end of tonight to own up to their deed.
Maddy Estelle: Okay ... one more thing ..
AgentDash: No, Maddy. I have to be at my match (looks at clock) in exactly one hour. Good day.
Dash urges Maddy out into the hallway and slams the door. Maddy looks confused, and after checking her watch, she speaks into the camera.
Maddy Estelle: Isn't his match sooner than that?
Maddy turns and knocks on the door. There is no response. AgentDash is ignoring her from inside, and little does he know that his clock has been turned back half an hour.
Introduction
A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE
The screen goes to black then fizzles to life suddenly, the letters “AWC” flashing across in a brilliant white light. A moment of silence dominates, then, backed by “Way Away” by Yellowcard, images of AWC’s superstars appear, one after the other. The guitar plays softly first, then goes straight into a strong, powerful riff.
I think I’m breaking out
I’m gonna leave you now
There’s nothing for me here
It’s all the same
A pulsating white light continually lights up the screen, as shots of many AWC wrestlers in action are shown: Aimz, Pierce Lavelle, departing Legends The Furious Fists Of God.
And even though I know
That everything might go
Go downhill from here
I’m not afraid
A quick collection of highlights from Untouchable flash across the screen as the song moves into its chorus. AgentDash hitting the Death From Above 2006 on Jack Murphy; a burst of flame from Snowball’s mouth as Andy Murray defied Kasidy Drake; Garbage Bag Johnny nailing the Tragically Hipbuster to level the score with Paddy O’Shea.
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
George Cassidy: Triangles is… soon!
Truth Waters: And the line-up is lookin’ good! In red we have Transatlantic champ Garbage Bag Johnny, Livewire champ Johnny Lexicon, and three-time PTC Global champ Seymour Almasy!
George Cassidy: That one’s looking pretty creamy by itself.
Truth Waters: Then AWC Legend Pierce Lavelle is confirmed for blue, whilst second favourite Ellis Nash is confirmed for green. The other four competitors, yet to be placed into triangles, are Darcy Crisis, Scott Taylor, AgentDash and Josh Marquez…
George Cassidy: …but one of those will LOSE their place to the winner of the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet which concludes that same night just a little before the main match!
Truth Waters: It’s all pretty freakin’ crazy… I love it! Tonight Jack Murphy has
back-to-back matches for the Relentless and Frontier titles; a defence against Teresa Tomas and a shot at Darcy Crisis!
George Cassidy: And we see Jonny Kae outshine two of our Triangles participants in the Try Your Luck match!
Truth Waters: Scott Taylor and Josh Marquez in his natural environment being the other competitors in what could be a very close-run match…
George Cassidy: But first the first ever AAA match! Aimz, Andy Murray and AgentDash, where weapons beginning with the letter ‘A’ are legal! Bring it on!
Back On The Market
A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE
David Harber: What the… Sasha?
Harber leaps out of his chair, a look of complete shock on his face, as Sasha Volkyeva, regaining a portion of her former elegance with a simple all-black ensemble and her hair in a bun, glides into The Empire’s sky-box.
Sasha Volkyeva: (nodding coldly) David.
Ignoring “Heartless” David Harber, the Ice Queen heads straight for the back of the room, where Dr. Kasidy Drake and Juggernaut Kintu sit in silence, Drake’s laptop open in front of them – but Harber grabs her shoulder.
David Harber: How did you get past the Drakewerx guards?
Volkyeva shoves his hand away.
Sasha Volkyeva: Charm isn’t something one can learn, David; it’s something one is born with. Dr. Drake…
She marches expectantly towards the luxurious leather furniture positioned around a glass coffee table free of any finger smudges.
Sasha Volkyeva: …I want my job back.
Kasidy doesn’t react in the slightest, but behind Sasha, David Harber’s eyes grow wide. He turns and tries to exchange a glance with Pierce Lavelle, but the Legend doesn’t meet his eyes, crossing his arms and concentrating on the music he is piping into his brain via an iPod.
Sasha Volkyeva: Dr. Drake.
With a weary sigh, Drake runs a hand through his hair and turns to look up at Volkyeva.
Kasidy Drake: And you are…?
Drake wafts his questioning hand in the air. Sasha turns up her nose.
Sasha Volkyeva: I am not sure how the United States of America works, Dr. Drake, but where I have travelled we are accustomed to standing up to greet our colleagues.
Now Drake stiffens.
Kasidy Drake: And since when are you a colleague of mine?
Volkyeva gapes at him.
Sasha Volkyeva: You s
eeeriously do not know who I am?
Kasidy Drake: Uh… Teresa somethingorother?
Sasha Volkyeva: (loudly) Dr. Drake, you were supposed to choose between David and me for Entertainment Manager! Don’t tell me you cannot even remember me!
Kasidy Drake: Oh, that’s right, that’s right… Sasha, isn’t it. A pleasure. What can I do for you.
He doesn’t look impressed, nor does he phrase his question as a question. In fact, he rests his head on his upturned hand and glances back at his laptop.
Sasha Volkyeva: I would like you to consider reinstating me in my post, Dr. Drake. For a long time now I have thought that---
Kasidy Drake: I’ve got an Entertainment Manager, Mrs… Sasha, and he’s sat right over there. Now if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got business to attend to. Would you fire some guards on your way out, please; they should never even have let you in.
Sasha Volkyeva draws in a long, long breath, then expels it all through her nose at once.
Sasha Volkyeva: (snarling) Very well. Good day to you.
She storms over to David Harber.
Sasha Volkyeva: David…
David Harber: Sasha.
Sasha Volkyeva: I want my job back.
Bad Business
A U T H O R : JONNY
Backstage, Jonny Kae is seen warming up for his match with Scott Taylor and Josh Marquez later in the night. He’s in ring gear, and is tuning himself mentally for the contest. From round the corner, Taylor enters into view, dressed for action too. He walks down past where Kae is standing.
Jonny Kae: Hey, Scott!
Taylor keeps walking. Kae turns and follows him down the hallway.
Jonny Kae: Hey, Kid. I’m talking to you!
Taylor stops this time, and turns to face the larger Jonny Kae. He puts his finger up, pointing at Kae.
Scott Taylor: Back off Kae. I ain’t no damn kid. You got some nerve talking to me like that after last week.
Kae rolls his eyes.
Jonny Kae: Oh dear. I thought you might bring that up. Listen, Lavelle got a cheap shot on me. There was nothing I could do.
Taylor leers up into his face.
Scott Taylor: Shut your damn mouth. You could have stopped that pin, and you know it!
Jonny Kae shrugs his shoulders.
Jonny Kae: I… I had wind.
Taylor’s mouth turns down into a frown.
Scott Taylor: Whatever… just make sure you’re ready for our match. I’ll say all I need to say in the ring.
Taylor turns to leave, but Kae grabs his arm, spinning him around.
Jonny Kae: Don’t be mad at me Scott, just because in the last few weeks you’ve been humiliated by a woman… twice.
Taylor glares at Kae.
Scott Taylor: What the hell are you trying to say?
Kae shrugs, letting his eyes look up top left.
Jonny Kae: Oh, you know. Your great return. Being clocked by Teresa Tomas. Last week being beaten on by a little redneck. You know, that kinda thing. It must be quite distressing to be made a bitch… by a bitch.
With that, Kae stares straight into Taylor’s eyes, a smile crossing his face.
Scott Taylor: How dare you call her that! Don’t think I don’t know your game Kae. I know you had something to do with taking Teresa Tomas the other week. I should slap that smile off of your face right now.
Instead, Kae launches a slap into the face of Taylor, sending him stumbling back, the ultimate sign of disrespect. Kae smiles. Taylor puts his hand on his jaw, looking down for a few seconds, and suddenly explodes, slamming a flurry of rights into the face of Jonny Kae. Kae reels back to the wall, where Taylor kicks him in the gut a couple of times, sending Jonny Kae down to the ground. He starts pounding on his exposed head, until security enters onto the scene, pulling Taylor off of Kae. Scott Taylor looks irate, trying to get his hands on the former HSW wrestler, but Security hold him back.
Kae gets to his feet, wiping his face from the attack, and shouting at the security guards.
Jonny Kae: Get that guy out of here! He’s obviously unstable! I don’t even know why Harber’s letting him wrestle tonight after his drunk driving antics. Scott, you’re a disgrace to this business and to yourself.
Kae, shaking his head and holding his jaw, turns his back on Taylor, who is kept at bay by the security. Finally, Taylor admits defeat against the many black shirts, and turns to leave down the hallway.
Jonny Kae checks to make sure everyone’s gone, before waving to someone off camera.
A young man comes onto the scene with a hand held camera.
Jonny Kae: Hey, did you get all of that?
The young man nods. Kae goes into the lockeroom, and takes his wallet, handing a bunch of notes to the guy. The man gives him the tape, and Kae nods.
Jonny Kae: Pleasure doing business with you kid.
The man nods, and leaves the room. Kae looks down at the tape with a smile on his face.
Aimz
v s
Andy Murray
v s
AgentDash
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : AAA
R E F E R E E : RICHIE TRAVIS
A U T H O R : JOSH K.
James Brunt: The following contest is scheduled for two simultaneous falls. It is billed as a triple-A match, and any weapon starting with the letter A is legal. Introducing first from Berkeley, California: AgentDash!
Mewithoutyou’s “Tie Me Up! Untie Me!” begins to play, but AgentDash does not come out, leaving the song playing and the arena confused. After a while, the music is cut.
George Cassidy: Looks like there’s no AgentDash this week.
Truth Waters: I find this fairly odd.
George Cassidy: Eh, who cares. He’ll be alright.
Truth Waters: It ruins the entire concept of the simultaneous falls!
James Brunt: Alright, um, the next competitor in this match is Aimz!
“Interlude 12/21” by AFI begins to play and as I get pissed off just thinking about AFI, Aimz comes out looking pumped and ready for action as multicolored strobes paint the arena. Aimz runs down to the ring, slapping hands with the fans the whole way down, before sliding under the bottom rope.
Truth Waters: Aimz certainly looks ready for action tonight!
George Cassidy: Relatively, I guess.
James Brunt: And the final competitor in this match, from somewhere in Scotland, Andy Murray!
“Bat Country” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play, and the Scottish King of Cool coolly scoots down to the ring carrying an air guitar, which would be considered a legal weapon in the match. Murray slides in the ring as the bell sounds and knocks Aimz down with an air guitar shot to the head!
George Cassidy: Now that was cool!
Aimz gets up quickly from the air guitar shot and attempts the Coming Soon on Andy Murray, but Murray dodges and catches Aimz with an elbow to the face. Aimz stumbles back, and Andy Murray Scottish whips her off of the ropes, Aimz ricochets back and ducks under a big boot attempt from Murray. She continues her course off of the opposite ropes and connects with a flying leg lariat that sends Murray to the ground.
Truth Waters: Acrobatic maneuver by Aimz!
George Cassidy: I can’t wait to see what illegal objects they start pulling out. AK-47, anyone?
Andy Murray gets back to his feet slowly, but Aimz is right on top of him with some boots to the back. Murray shrugs them off, but he is still staggering a bit when Aimz charges from behind and plants Andy Murray face first into the canvas with a bulldog. Aimz then slides out of the ring and lifts the ring apron up, looking for illegal objects that start with the letter A.
Truth Waters: It looks like she’s seeing tables and ladders and chairs, but nothing legal in this match.
Aimz is a bit too late in finding something, and by this time she has given Murray enough time to hit her with a baseball slide dropkick that sends her into the guard rail hard. Murray slides out of the ring and clotheslines Aimz into the audience. Andy then looks under the ring himself, digging a little deeper and pulling out some ant killer. As Aimz gets up on the other side of the rail, Andy Murray sprays into her eyes!
George Cassidy: My God! Andy Murray just blinded Aimz with ant killer! She might need her eyes amputated!
Truth Waters: I don’t think you can amputate an eye, but she’s definitely blinded and stinging.
As Aimz throws blind punches, Murray ducks back before suplexing Aimz back over the guard rail. Murray rolls Aimz back into the ring and searches for something else to maim Aimz with. He pulls out an antique lamp and rolls into the ring. Aimz is crawling on the canvas, trying to wipe her eyes clean as she moves. Murray straddles her and begins to choke her with the antique lamp wire.
George Cassidy: Is Andy Murray gonna have to choke a bitch?
Truth Waters: It looks like it.
As Murray chokes away at the kneeling Red Raver, we cut away…
Delayed
A U T H O R : TRENT
An AWC employee rushes down a hallway, and comes to dressing room number 18. He stops and pounds relentlessly on the door.
Employee: AGENTDASH! Are you going out for your match?! (pause) ... It's starting right now!
The door opens quickly. AgentDash stands there, confused.
AgentDash: What are you talking about? My match doesn't start for another half an hour!
Employee: Uh ... it's starting right now ... Aimz and Andy Murray are already wrestling.
AgentDash: (looks back at clock) ... What time do you have?
Employee: (checks watch) 8:15.
AgentDash: Son-of-a-bitch!
Employee: What?!
AgentDash: Somebody turned my clock back!
Employe: That's preposterous ...
AgentDash: Get the hell out of my way, I have a match to wrestle!
And Cedric Riley pushes past the informant, grabs something, and breaks into a run in order to make his match. The employee stands in bewilderment.
Aimz
v s
Andy Murray
v s
AgentDash
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : AAA
R E F E R E E : RICHIE TRAVIS
A U T H O R : JOSH K.
AgentDash steps out onto the ramp and begins running down to the ring with an arm- a prosthetic arm!
Truth Waters: Better late than never, I guess.
George Cassidy: I disagree.
Andy Murray, who watched AgentDash the whole way down, drops the lamp, letting Aimz go free. As she tries to catch her breath and clear her eyes, Andy Murray braces himself for a prosthetic arm shot. Murray anticipates correctly, ducking under a swinging arm swung by the arms of AgentDash. Murray places a boot to Dash’s midsection and welcomes him to the match with a powerbomb.
Truth Waters: Andy Murray looks dominant here tonight.
George Cassidy: Not for long!
Aimz comes out of nowhere, nailing Murray upside the head with a high flipping dropkick. Murray hits the deck right next to AgentDash, and Aimz goes to the top rope.
Truth Waters: It looks like Aimz is aiming for the Dead Aim on both AgentDash and Andy Murray.
George Cassidy: That’s a lot of “A’s.”
Aimz leaps off, but she is so unlucky to have only caught a taste of the mat as both Dash and Murray rolled opposite ways. Dash and Murray both struggle to their feet and walk over to Aimz, keeping her down with stomps in between punches traded to each other. Dash gains the upper hand after dodging a couple of punches and going on a series of his own that knock Andy Murray against the ropes. Dash backs up. Moonsault kick!
Truth Waters: And it looks like that moonsault kick left Andy Murray tangled up in the ropes!
George Cassidy: Things could get interesting very quickly!
Indeed they do. AgentDash picks up the prosthetic arm and walks sadistically over to Andy Murray. Dash begins beating Murray across the chest with the prosthetic arm and marks are left across Murray’s biceps and chest. Luckily, Aimz saves the day, coming behind AgentDash and smashing the antique lamp over his head. Dash goes down like a sack of bricks, and Aimz looks at Andy Murray stuck in the ropes before sliding out of the ring.
Truth Waters: I don’t like the look Aimz had in her eye. She must be up to something.
George Cassidy: Women are always up to something. Ask my ex-wife.
Truth Waters: You have an ex-wife?
George Cassidy: Sure. You have to have at least one ex-wife to be a color commentator.
Aimz emerges from under the ring apron with an Apple iPod. She climbs back into the ring and applies the headphones into Andy Murray’s ears. She turns it on, and Andy Murray starts tapping! She’s making Murray listen to Aaron Carter! Aimz covers the downed Dash to try to coordinate both falls.
ONE!
TWO!
AgentDash kicks out with what energy he has left. Meanwhile, Andy Murray has started working on freeing his arms to get the iPod off of him. He has already shaken the headphones out of his ears, and is free of his entanglement while Aimz has dropped back down to pummel AgentDash with some mounted punches.
Truth Waters: That would’ve been it right there if AgentDash wouldn’t have kicked out!
George Cassidy: Andy Murray is finally out of the ropes.
Murray walks behind Aimz and floors her with a full nelson slam! He peels AgentDash off of the ground and lifts him for a military press. Murray tries to drop Dash on Aimz, but as Murray pushes upwards to press Dash, Dash shifts his weight and lands behind Murray. Murray turns around, but it’s already too late as AgentDash is on his way back from the Star Struck! Aimz rolls Dash into a pin while putting her feet on Murray for extra leverage and yet another pin!
Truth Waters: Aimz going for all the pinfalls here tonight. She must really want to get this match over with!
ONE!
George Cassidy: Her and I both.
TWO!
AgentDash kicks out again. His pin came more out of surprise than anything else, so he is back to his feet on par with Aimz as Andy Murray wisely rolls out of the ring. Aimz swings wildly at AgentDash, and Dash ducks and tries to flip Aimz over with a back suplex. Aimz backflips out of the suplex, however, and tries to give AgentDash a bulldog, but Dash keeps his base and tosses Aimz chest first into the ropes.
George Cassidy: Look at them jiggle! That’s the wobbliest set of ropes of I’ve ever seen!
Truth Waters: Touche, Cassidy! A wobbly set of ropes indeed!
Aimz bounces backwards as Dash runs off of the ropes. He nails Aimz with a shining wizard! Dash points to the top rope to try to get the crowd behind him, but that’s kind of hard to do when you’re beating up a girl. Dash leaps forward while executing a back flip! He nails the Death From Above 2006!
Truth Waters: AgentDash rarely pulls that out of his move set, and with Andy Murray gathering himself outside the ring, maybe it wasn’t such a wise time to pull that out of his bag of tricks.
George Cassidy: I don’t think he saw Murray roll out of the ring. I think we were all distracted by the jiggling ropes.
Dash gets up groggily, looking for Andy Murray, who is crouching behind the apron holding an aluminum pipe. Dash peeks his head over the top rope and sees stars just after seeing Andy Murray. Dash immediately falls backwards into the ring and Andy Murray slides in. Aimz is getting to her feet, so to end the match with authority, Murray kicks her in the stomach and drops her with the Highland Hangover!
George Waters: This one is as good as over!
Murray drags Aimz over to AgentDash and he pins both of them.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner of this match is Andy Murray!
Complications
A U T H O R : LARA C.
The skybox is covered in lavish luxuries as David Harber is seated comfortably in a leather chair gazing out into the crowd as they feast their eyes on the spectacles in the ring.
In the corner of the room, Lavelle is seated, calm and collected, as he listens to his ipod. Harber keeps an eye on him as he turns away from the glass windows and marches toward Lavelle who is in ignorant bliss, blanking his superior and boss.
Harber pulls the white earphones from Lavelle’s ears and gets a displeased grunt from Lavelle.
David Harber: We need to talk!
Pierce Lavelle: We do?
Lavelle sits back into the chair, folding his arms and slouching.
David Harber: Come Triangles I’m going to need you to do something for me.
Pierce Lavelle: I’m cleaning up Kintu’s mess tonight against the Coalition.
David Harber: Yes… What happened to Wade was… unfortunate.
Lavelle scowled toward Harber.
Pierce Lavelle: Are we going to sit here and make meaningless chit chat, or have you got an actual demand?
Harber sat rigidly on the edge of the seat and gazed toward Dr. Kasidy Drake seated at a desk with Kintu, he soon turned his attention back to Lavelle.
David Harber: Alright… I want you to go for this Briefcase of Truth Wade’s bringing in to Triangles.
Lavelle looked toward Harber quizzically and remained quiet.
David Harber: Just think how much power I – we – could have if we knew the truth. Something big is in there, I know it.
Lavelle inched forward, a cocky smile on his face.
Pierce Lavelle: That sounds like a
swell idea Harbs!
David Harber: Good! I knew you’d -
Pierce Lavelle: But… (smiling)… I’m going for the Transatlantic title.
Harber stood up, anger welling up.
David Harber: What?
Pierce Lavelle: You heard me, Harbs. I’m going to get
my title back.
Harber prodded Lavelle’s chest, eyes a steely silver.
David Harber: Now you listen to me, you will get that case for the greater cause of the Empire!
Lavelle moved forward, Harber’s finger becoming bent as it lay on Lavelle’s chest.
Pierce Lavelle: Well then, you better start thinking of a new lackey to get this case, because
I’m going for my title!
Lavelle pushed Harber aside, taking back his ipod.
Pierce Lavelle: Why not get Gabs to do your dirty work like always – oh right,
he isn’t even here!
David Harber: You’re making a mistake, Lavelle, a serious
mistake.
Harber warned Lavelle with a serious and foreboding tone, Lavelle just smiled and looked out of the skybox to sea of heads.
Pierce Lavelle: Relax Harbs! I’m sure you’ll find out what’s in the case… eventually. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got
your mess to clean up!
Lavelle left the room, shutting the door with a shuddering slam. Harber gazed menacingly toward the wooden door before slumping into his chair and pondering his next move. This was a complication, Harber couldn’t afford.
Jack Murphy (c)
v s
Teresa Tomas
C H A M P I O N S H I P : RELENTLESS
S T I P U L A T I O N : WEAPONS - RFG
R E F E R E E : SELENA SUMNER
A U T H O R : JARRETT
James Brunt - Ladies and gentlemen, the following is a Weapons match in the Relentless Frontier Gauntlet, and is for the Relentless championship!
The lights grow dim. A red glow emits from the entrance. Within the glow is a silhouette of a long-haired female. Without warning a cannon is heard blasting through the speakers. White pyros explode from either side of the entrance ramp creating a thick blanket of white smoke. “Big Guns” by AC/DC floods the building.
James Brunt - Introducing first, the challenger from Nashville, Tennessee! Standing 5 feet 7 inches tall! Teresa Tomas!
Teresa Tomas steps through the smoke. A cigarette hangs from the corner of her mouth. She is decked out in faded Levi’s and a black ¼-sleeve t-shirt with the words written in metallic chrome “What’s YOUR Excuse?” Teresa stops midway down the ramp to release a final puff of cigarette smoke before removing the cancer stick from her lips. She glances to her right, then to her left giving the fans an empty stare before dropping the burning butt to at her feet, then stomps it with her boot before making her journey to the ring.
George Cassidy - I wonder if she’s sober today? Wait... of course not...
Truth Waters - Give her some credit, Cassidy. This is one tough broad. She got beat down after someone spiked her Jack Daniels two weeks ago. The week after she suffered a devastating loss to newcomer B.O.T.
George Cassidy - And whose fault is that, really? She got beat by a dude who doesn't even have a real name!
The clinical riff of 'Burn' by Throwdown fills the arena and begins an extended loop as the house lights dim to a dull, crimson red. As the flick of the lighter is heard around the arena and the riff explodes, so too does the entrance into a burning inferno. Through the flames emerges 'The Bull' Jack Murphy.
James Brunt - And the champion, from Kildare, Ireland, weighing in at 278 pounds, he is the AWC Relentless Champion, "The Bull" Jack Murphy!
George Cassidy - Remember that time when Jack Murphy sucked? Yea, that’s right now.
Truth Waters - I’m not sure I follow.
George Cassidy - Well, I had a wager going on with a couple of Men with Bad Intentions that Jack would win both his matches last week. He didn't, and said men found out that I didn’t have ten grand like I told them I did. Let’s just say they took what I owed them out of my anus.
Truth Water - What the f...
George Cassidy - I’m gonna tell you the truth, Truth... I kinda liked it.
Truth Waters - Wow.
George Cassidy - Did I... did I just say that out loud?
Truth Waters - Yeah!?
George Cassidy - Can I take it back?
Truth Waters - I’m not sure my subconscious will let you.
In the ring, the action has started. The Bull is finding himself struggling to catch the smaller, quicker, and quite frankly, shapelier Tomas. After ducking a heavy clothesline, Tomas taps his lower back with a stiff mid kick. Jack spins with a back hand, and misses once more, and once more takes a midkick, this time to the exposed ribs. He buckles with that kick and Tomas uses the pause to ricochet off the opposite ropes, and introduce his chin to her feet. He teeters back and lands into the ropes, using them to stand back up. Tomas is quick to her feet again, and quick to the kicks again as well, targeting the quads this time. His legs start to buckle, and with a mighty front kick, the bigger man falls to one knee. Off the ropes again goes Tomas, and executes a perfect Shining Wizard on Murphy, taking him to his back. Tomas stands up one more, ready to pounce again, but Murphy evacuates, this wasn't how he wanted it to start.
Truth Waters - Looks like Tomas sobered up for this one! She laying into Jack Murphy early and often.
George Cassidy - Maybe I should take a trip to her dressing room and borrow some of her liquor to wash this weird taste in my mouth away.
Truth Waters - Are you just gonna tip toe down memory lane all match or are you gonna help me out here.
George Cassidy - (crying) Not like it matters! You’re the big star here! I’m just the color commentator, you’re the guy with the big vocabulary and the good looks.
Truth Waters - Sorry?
The ref goads Murphy back in with a ten count. At around 5, he slides in. Tomas runs in to assault him with a flurry of punches. Murphy covers up, eventually finding a break to push her to the ground. He encroaches, and nails her in the back with a big forearm, sending her to the ground. He lifts her to her feet, and Whips her into the ropes. On the rebound he throws her in the air, flapjack in mind, but she floats back to The Bull gracefully, wrapping an arm around his neck and spinning him around for a tornado DDT.
Truth Waters - Wow, Tomas is on fire today!
George Cassidy - My world is on fire, burning to the ground into a pile of ashes.
Truth Waters - Will you snap the fuck out of it please! We have a job to do.
George Cassidy - Pssh, who cares about me? I’m just the sidekick...
Truth Waters - Cass... I need you.
George Cassidy - You... you mean it?
Truth Waters - Yes. Cassidy, I need you!
George Cassidy - Ew, fag...
Truth Waters - Wha...
Tomas lifts Murphy to a sitting position, and bounces off the ropes. She hops low on the rebound, looking to dropkick the Bull in his face. CRACK! Something unhealthy flies out of Murphy's mouth as he falls backwards to the mat. Tomas covers.
ONE!
TWO!
Murphy throws Tomas to the side at the two count. Murphy backs away as he stands, Tomas stands up and points at him, the crowd cheers for her, recognizing her dominace so far.
Truth Waters - Its strange, it seems like Murphy isn't in this thing today. That or Tomas is really on the ball tonight.
George Cassidy - I think she’s just trying to work quick before her buzz wears off.
Truth Waters - Murphy just looks like he’s never fully got out of the gates.
George Cassidy - You know all about gates, don’t you?
Truth Waters - That makes no sense.
Murphy has returned to his feet, and has forced Teresa into the corner. He thrusts his elbow into her temple, her head recoils wildly. He begins to choke her, and the ref quickly intervenes. Pulled over to the other side of the ring, Murphy argues with the referee. Teresa nurses her neck, leaning on the ropes for a bit of a breather. Murphy shakes off "The Man" and engages Tomas again. Tomas squeezes out of a collar elbow and around Murphy’s back. She climbs up on his back and attempts a backcracker-like manoeuvre, but Murphy uses his size advantage and simply tosses her over his shoulder. An elbow drop nails her to the canvas. He drags her up and pushes her into the corner. A couple of rights lets him think that she'll stay there for awhile. The ref tries to warn him not to do it, but Murphy backs up and takes aim any way. He starts the charge, speeding towards Teresa. He leaves his feet, and lowers his shoulder.
"OOOOOOOOOOH"
The crowd watches in horror as Murphy's shoulder wraps around the ring post. He backs out slowly, immediately regretting his decision. Next to him, Tomas hops atop the highest rope, balancing gracefully, awaiting Murphy to move into prime Flying Squirrel position. She looks out into the crowd, giving them a silent nod to tell them it’ll be over in a minute. Then from below, a gray blur swings from under the apron. A long bang, like bending steel erupts, followed by the boos of thousands. She falls back to the mat, colors being blurred together like a painting done by a cataract patient. The ceiling lights lose shape, and simply just because a sheet of blinding white.
The ref looks around the outside to find the source, but it’s already disappeared.
Truth Waters - What just happened?
George Cassidy - Not sure, Jarrett's impeccable writing has lost me in a strange sense of ignorant bliss.
The Bull seizes the opportunity, lifting Redneck Princess from her stupor, and into a Vertical suplex. Before falling backwards, thought, he slides her downwards into a piledriver.
Truth Waters - Fall from Grace! This is over.
Ref gets down and counts.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
Murphy stands up and raises his hands. "Burn" by Throwdown plays again.
James Brunt - Here is your winner, Jack Murphy!
Murphy celebrates a bit, and leaves the ring. Almost immediately after, a man clad in grey slides into the ring, wielding a dented chair.
Truth Waters - Who's that?
George Cassidy - And how am I supposed to know that?
Truth Waters - I wasn't really asking you, it was rhetorical.
George Cassidy - Why ask questions that you don't intend on having answers for?
Truth Waters - Shut up, Cassidy!
The grey man screams at her, pointing the chair at the fallen Princess angrily.
Er – and nobody wrote any more, so…
The Call-Out
A U T H O R : TRENT
Truth Waters: Well, folks ... we've had an interesting night so far, and surely the drama is only just getting started.
George Cassidy: I still can't wait to see Ellis Nash beat up on Almasy!
Truth Waters: Well, I don't know about you ... but I'd put my money on Almasy.
The opening drum beat to mewithoutYou's "Tie Me Up! Untie Me!" comes to life over the arena PA as the lights fade slightly. The arena remains silent and as the opening guitar chords jerk into the song AgentDash steps out from behind the curtains and onto the stage. The reaction is undecided, but if one had to choose, the crowd does sound slightly unimpressed with his arrival. Dash seems in a rush and walks briskly to the ring, and slides in. He calls to the ringside crew for a mic.
George Cassidy: What the hell is he doing here?
Truth Waters: I don't know ... this wasn't planned ... but if I were a betting man I'd say it had to do with what happened earlier.
AgentDash: As some of you may already know, I have been sabotaged lately on more than one occasion. Last week on Fresh!, some asshole in a mask decided to destroy my locker room. Now, you may wonder what a guy like me ...
me ... would have done to another to get that sort of treatment! Well, I was wondering the same damn thing, because I've never really done anything to anyone to invoke such actions – unless, of course, they were one of my opponents whose ass I handed to ... or, for that matter, one of my
tag partners ...
George Cassidy: What is this clown getting at?
AgentDash: I was planning on waiting until the end of the night to call out the person who destroyed my locker room last week, but certain events have called for more immediate action. You may have noticed that I was late for my match earlier this evening ... but not purposely! I have some footage here that proves that ...
roll the footage!
Dash points to the screen, which flickers to life. It shows a deserted hallway with a view of a single dressing room door, not unlike the one that Dash was interviewed in earlier today. The masked man from last week – this time in black clothing and wearing a red balaclava – sneaks into the hallway and enters Dash's dressing room. It's only a moment until he reappears from the dressing room. The screen goes to black.
AgentDash: Now, one can only
guess what occurred in that locker room, but I have my suspicions. They didn't do any damage to anything, nor was anything stolen ... so that only leaves one thing, which makes sense! They turned my clock back ...
sabotaged me so that I would be late for my match! I wouldn't even have made it if it weren't for the employee ... and if I hadn't wrestled the match, I wouldn't have gotten paid for tonight's work!
Truth Waters: Oh no, the world would have stopped turning!
AgentDash: So ...
Josh Marquez ... bring your sorry ass down here so I can whoop your ass like I should have last week in our tag match.
Truth Waters: What in the hell does
he have to do with this?
A short wait later with no activity, Motorhead's “Ace of Spades” fills the arena. Josh Marquez marches out onto the stage to a flood of cheers from his hometown crowd.
Josh Marquez: I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Dash, but you sure have the balls to call me out here after I carried your ass to a guaranteed spot at Triangles last week! (crowd pops)
AgentDash: You're fucking kidding me, right? I made the pin in that match, if you didn't notice .. and this has nothing to do with last week's match ... and hell, if you want me to, I can make it have something to do with last week's match. You're a sneaky one, Marquez ... all that planning that you did with Paddy, and now that you've lost popularity backstage, you've decided to bring the attention on yourself under a mask! But I saw through your clever disguise!
The crowd is bringing the heat to Dash now in his confrontation with the hometown hero.
Josh Marquez: If you're going to play that card, Dash, there really is no need for me to defend myself. Instead, how about I kick your ass at Triangles?
AgentDash: Hey .. that's
exactly what I was getting at! In ten days from now, Marquez, you and I will be thrown in the same triangle at the pay-per-view's main event ... and hell, the fact that I'll get my hands around your neck then is enough to hold me off until then!
Josh Marquez: Good, it's settled then. I kick your ass at Triangles, and go on to the middle triangle, where I'll do some more damage! Now I’ve got a casino to get to…
Crowd pops, Marquez drops the mic and leaves the stage.
AgentDash: Hey! … I'm not done with you, Marquez! ... I'll see you at Triangles.
Dash drops the mic as “Tie Me Up! Untie Me!” hits the PA. The crowd is raining boos down on the former agent, who strides up the ramp with a smirk on his face.
Truth Waters: Well, ladies and gentleman ... it looks like we have a bit of tension between these two going into Triangles!
George Cassidy: Right you are, Truth ...
Truth Waters: I'm still skeptical about this whole masked man thing ... what proof does AgentDash have that it actually was Marquez?
George Cassidy: You know as much as I do, Truth ..
Truth Waters: ... That's a relief.
Darcy Crisis (c)
v s
Jack Murphy
C H A M P I O N S H I P : FRONTIER
S T I P U L A T I O N : SINGLES - RFG
R E F E R E E : AARON DAVIES
A U T H O R : KRIS
The clinical riff of 'Burn' by Throwdown fills the arena and begins an extended loop as the house lights dim to a dull, crimson red. As the flick of the lighter is heard around the arena and the riff explodes, so too does the entrance into a burning inferno. Through the flames emerges Jack Murphy with his Relentless title strapped firmly around his waist.
Truth Waters: After defending his title just moments ago Jack Murphy cannot be one hundred percent for this match tonight.
James Blunt: Making his way to the ring, weighing in at 278 pounds: 'The Bull'! JACK! MURPHY!
The opening riff of “Superunknown” by Soundgarden overtakes the arena as the crowd comes to life. With the opening crash of the cymbals, a flash of gold fireworks is followed instantaneously by the thundering report.
BOOM!
Out from beneath the sparkling shower steps the East Bay Executioner himself, MISTER Darcy Crisis with his Frontier title strapped loose. Darcy's fist is raised high as he makes his way down the ramp to the tune of Chris Cornell's opening croons:
If this isn’t what you see, It doesn’t make you blind…
If this doesn’t make you feel, It doesn’t mean you’ve died…
James Brunt: Making his way to the ring, from East Bay, California... weighing in at 227 pounds, DARCY CRISIS!
Darcy slides into the ring under the ropes, taking in the fan reaction for a few moments before climbing the turnbuckle, thumping his chest twice and throwing both arms into the air.
Truth Waters: There's no doubt about it that Darcy Crisis has been unstoppable as of late.
George Cassidy: I know I hate it, but tonight there's a Bull ready to put Crisis in his place.
They lock up, Murphy powers Darcy towards the corner and into the turnbuckles. They hold position for a few minutes before Jack steps back and lets a tentative Darcy Crisis step out of his corner.
Truth Waters: This contest is starting off fast.
George Cassidy: Murphy should press his side advantage not give Darcy a second chance.
They circle again before locking up, Darcy's feet slide on the mat as he tries to resist the Bull but Murphy backs him towards the corner. At the last second Darcy turns and throws Murphy back first against the turnbuckles but doesn't follow up.
George Cassidy: Crisis shows how slippery can be and calls for one more.
Murphy comes out cautiously as Darcy motions to lock up again.
Truth Waters: The tie breaker!
George Cassidy: Murphy should have laid a hurtin’ the first chance he got.
The charge and lock up, Murphy pulls out a cheap shot.
Truth Waters: What a sneaky elbow shot to the ribs!
Murphy whips Darcy into the ropes but barely misses a clothesline as Darcy follows through to the other side. He comes off fast, but not fast enough as Murphy lands a snap scoop slam that bounces him back to his feet.
Truth Waters: What a move!
George Cassidy: That's 'The Bull' that won the Transatlantic title!
Flexing Jack roars for the booing fans as Darcy squirms for his feet. Jack turns as he's on his knees and hammers Darcy with a right hand, Crisis fires back with a kidney shot.
Truth Waters: I'm not sure why Darcy insists on brawling with the bigger Jack Murphy, but I'm sure you're pleased with the bad decision.
George Cassidy: More than pleased, Truth, more than pleased.
Unfazed Murphy punches him again, Darcy fires back and hops to his feet. He blocks a wide right and connects with a left that staggers the Bull. Crisis falls away into the ropes but as he comes off he eats the leather of a big boot that plants him on the mat.
Truth Waters: OH!
George Cassidy: Jack is certainly enforcing an early control of momentum.
Murphy grabs a handful of Darcy's hair and hauls him to his feet, he hits his chest with a chop that sounds through the arena. Darcy turns away holding his chest but as he does Jack grabs him from behind and lands a bull dog that has the Frontier champion holding his face.
George Cassidy: And the hurt continues. Darcy is not looking good in the opening turns of this bout.
Truth Waters: Crisis is still fresh yet, Murphy's already been through one match tonight. Endurance is definitely on Crisis' side.
George Cassidy: Murphy's not the kind of man that quits, I'll tell you that much.
Murphy gathers Darcy to his feet and steadies him with a smile. He leans back into the ropes and comes back with a massive clothesline- NO! Darcy ducks it and hooks the outstretched arm! Wrapping his other arm around Jack's chin and pulling them both back.
Truth Waters: Darcy manages to turn things around in the blink of an eye!
George Cassidy: Submissions are not the way to beat 'The Bull'.
Darcy falls back on the mat and wraps his legs around Murphy's midsection in a half nelson body triangle.
Truth Waters: Darcy locks in the body triangle. The longer he keeps this move applied the weaker Murphy is getting.
George Cassidy: It's a cowards way out.
Jack squirms and fights, the wrong direction to reach for the ropes, the fans stomp and cheer for Darcy as he struggles to maintain the hold.
Truth Waters: Murphy's unable to find release from the hold, Crisis has him locked in tight.
The ref is all over the hold, Murphy refusing to give in.
Truth Waters: It's like you said Cassidy, Murphy is not the man to quit!
George Cassidy: The way his arm is held he's got to have lost feeling in it by now, but still he won't quit.
Finally Darcy relinquishes the hold and scrambles to his feet as Jack rolls onto his side cradeling his numb arm. Darcy descends like a pit bull with a boot to Murphy's stressed shoulder, and then another.
Truth Waters: Crisis continues his assault on Jack's right shoulder, effectively cutting 'The Bulls' offensive considerably.
Darcy drops a knee down on Jack's shoulder and as Murphy arches his back Crisis grabs that arm and sits out into an armbar, his legs going across Murphy's chest and head and hyper extending his arm.
Truth Waters: Now an inverted arm bar!
George Cassidy: This isn't good.
Murphy stretches and scrambles for the ropes, reaching with his feet but they're just too far.
George Cassidy: Darcy is being relentless in his attack on Murphy's shoulder.
Truth Waters: He's playing his advantage smart.
George Cassidy: I know, that's why I hate him more now than ever.
Darcy starts twisting Murphy's arm now, leaning back and pulling on it hard as Murphy cries out and pushes against the leg on his neck.
Truth Waters: Murphy's on the edge of breaking!
Murphy finally hooks his foot on the bottom rope and the ref calls a break.
Truth Waters: He made it to the corner but Darcy has created some massive momentum for himself.
George Cassidy: It only takes a second to turn it all around.
Darcy is quick to his feet while Jack is still on his knees, cradling his arm and getting one foot underneath himself. Crisis squares him up from behind and charges a knee into his shoulder.
Truth Waters: The systematic assault on Murphy's shoulder continues.
Murphy, who fell face down on the mat, reaches for the ropes, his fingers just brushing it before Darcy drags him into the middle ring.
Truth Waters: Darcy is squaring him away from escape, what hold has he got planned for Murphy now?
Jack flips onto his back with Darcy holding his foot, bending his knee he pulls the Frontier champion in for a kick in the chops.
George Cassidy: Yes!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy is not out of this yet!
George Cassidy: You're damn right!
Darcy falls into the ropes, checking his mouth for blood as Murphy gets back onto his hands and knees and crawls for the corner. Darcy stalks after him with a vengeances, coming down fast he stomps on the injured shoulder again and again until the ref pulls him away. Murphy crawls for the corner again determinedly as Darcy shrugs the official away and grabs his opponent from behind.
Truth Waters: Murphy is as determined to get back up as Darcy is to keep him down, it's a war of wills!
George Cassidy: Never underestimate the will of the 'The Bull'!
Darcy pulls Murphy to his feet and then leans him over backwards for a reverse DDT that sets the stands on fire. Darcy rolls over for the pin.
Truth Waters: Darcy with the equalizer! This could be it!
George Cassidy: C'mon Jack!
The is about to make the three count when he sees Murphy's boot hanging on the bottom rope and calls it at two. The fans are uproarious, more upset than the single minded Darcy Crisis as he gets to his feet and gives the shoulder another stomp for good measure.
George Cassidy: I hate Darcy Crisis.
Truth Waters: Like him or not he is firm control of this match as has brutally taken away Jack Murphy's power.
Helping Jack get to his feet Darcy whips him into the nearest corner back first, Murphy hits it like thunder and his legs start to buckle. Darcy hammers him with a running forearm and follows it with a chop to the chest. Murphy starts to slide down to a sitting position when Darcy hooks his arm around the middle rope and delivers a nasty soccer kick into Murphy's armpit.
Truth Waters: What a kick!
George Cassidy: That was just malicious and nasty. I kinda liked it.
Jack squirms face down, holding his injured limb as Darcy stalks around him. Jack pushes himself up onto his hands and knees when Darcy gives him another soccer kick to the shoulder that flips him over onto his back.
George Cassidy: Bah!
Truth Waters: Crisis is determined to maintain his Frontier title and looks ready to do so!
George Cassidy: Stop counting Murphy out, everybody did that before and look what's happened!
Crisis ascends the turnbuckles, right to the very top.
Truth Waters: Crisis looks ready to finish things!
Pausing only to catch his balance he shuffles around to face the ring as Jack Murphy surges desperately and grabs onto the ropes. Darcy wobbles and falls split legged onto the top turnbuckle. The crowd 'oohs' in unison.
Truth Waters: Oh no! Murphy has saved himself!
George Cassidy: Get up Jack!
Murphy fights for his feet as Darcy starts pulls his legs back into the ring.
Truth Waters: Crisis was too arrogant and Murphy's made him pay!
Murphy jumps onto the middle ropes as Darcy gets his second leg in. He hooks Darcy's head under his arm and launches a huge german suplex off the top rope!
Truth Waters: What a suplex!
George Cassidy: That was flawless but maybe a little reckless.
Darcy squirms holding the small of his back. Murphy writhes gripping his injured shoulder.
Truth Waters: Both men are hurt now, Murphy must be absolutely exhausted.
George Cassidy: Exhausted or not he can still pull it out.
Murphy is the first on his feet as Darcy pulls himself up the ropes, he comes down with a furious right hand and regrets it instantly. He winces from the shooting pain in his arm and Crisis capitolizes with a furious right hand of his own. He leans into the ropes for a haymaker but Murphy blocks it! He slams his forehead into Darcy's. Crisis takes a knee and Murphy drills him with a south paw.
Truth Waters: Murphy nearly paid for his injured soldier.
George Cassidy: But he didn't and that's the mark of a true champion. Fighting through adversity.
Darcy surges for his feet but Murphy is ready, catching him in a standing side headlock he wrenches down with a DDT that makes the fans erupt furiously.
Truth Waters: Darcy has faced his fair share of adversity.
George Cassidy: This is his chance!
Murphy goes for a pin attempt.
ONE!
TWO!
Truth Waters: Crisis look out!
Darcy kicks out at the two count and the fans cheer uproariously.
Truth Waters: There's somebody coming down the ramp.
George Cassidy: Oh no not him again!
Truth Waters: Jack Murphy is so close!
The grey clad figure runs down the ramp at full tilt before sliding into the ring on his belly. Murphy is just getting to his feet shakily when he sees the man, the ref moves to intervene but it's too late, the man in grey plants a drop kick that sends Murphy sprawling.
Truth Waters: NO!
George Cassidy: This is bull!
The ref calls for the bell.
James Blunt: The Winner via Disqualification and still AWC Frontier Champion! DARCY! CRISIS!
The figure in grey stands only long enough to see the look on Murphy's face as he hears the announcement before slinking back out of the ring. Security comes charging down the ramp but the man in grey slips over the guardrail swiftly and slithers through the crowd, quickly lost in the mass of fans moving to block his escape.
George Cassidy: Damned Darcy lovers! Get out of the way!
Truth Waters: A disappointing end to a brilliant battle!
The Biggest Bong In The Universe
A U T H O R S : JOSH K. and LIA
While questioning the lax nature of AWC’s on air drug policy, Garbage Bag Johnny walks down the hallway backstage with a gigantic bong in one hand and an economy sized bag of weed in the other hand. Going into Triangles, everything about Garbage Bag Johnny must be oversized to match his AWC Transatlantic title which is on the line. As unsettling as that might be for some, GBJ has bigger fish to fry. If he doesn’t get Pierce Lavelle that million dollars by the end of Triangles, Pierce has free rein afterwards to attack GBJ whenever he wants because GBJ has no collateral to hold over Pierce’s head.
As usual, GBJ has a particular destination, the locker room of one Ellis Nash, where he will continue on his quest to get some of her hair for Seymour Almasy. As GBJ turns to knock on the door, the camera gets a glimpse of the oversized scissors that are tucked into the back of his pants.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Ellis, you in there? I got weed.
Ellis Nash: No. Wait, weed? Yes.
Shuffling behind the door is followed by Ellis pulling it open, decidedly sans a pair of oversized scissors in her jeans. She smiles at the bag of weed rather than GBJ while simultaneously stepping aside to allow AWC's champ wander inside.
Garbage Bag meanders in, shuffling penguin like from side to side and jumping a little with each step as the tips of the giant scissors are undoubtedly scratching his ass up like nobody’s business. GBJ carefully maneuvers to set the bong down. Hell, you could trap a snaggletooth in that bong, that’s how big it was!
Garbage Bag Johnny: If you want to smoke this thing, you’re going to have to stand on my shoulders while I light it.
Moving around and in front of GBJ, Ellis smacks her palms against her hips and looks at GBJ as if he is... GBJ.
Ellis Nash: Um, do I have to? I'll just stand on the couch.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Perhaps that’s an even better idea.
Garbage Bag Johnny turns to the camera for an aside- much like any dastardly villain with some sort of evil plot he’s concocting.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Heh heh heh! The perfect crime! As Ellis takes a hit, I’ll just position myself behind her and cut off a lock of hair. It’ll be like taking candy from a baby… a baby who is too busy smoking weed.
GBJ turns back to Ellis, who is now on the couch ready to take a hit off of the bong.
Garbage Bag Johnny: You know, this thing holds twenty gallons of bong water. I’ve got a freshwater aquarium in there with tropical fish and seaweed and the like.
And like any other movie plot, the protagonist unknowingly foils the villain's plan.
Ellis Nash: Hold on for a sec, I have to tie my hair back. It's like, getting in my face and stuff.
A hair band magically appears on Ellis' wrist; she tugs her hair back into a ponytail, wraps it into a bun, and snaps the elastic around the base.
Ellis Nash: 'K.
An enraged Garbage Bag Johnny twirls at the edges of his mustache. How dare Ellis Nash foil Garbage Bag Johnny! If he was a son of a bitch, he’d push Ellis inside the bong and let her, as the Mafioso would say, swim with the fishes. But Garbage Bag Johnny would mean it in a literal sense, too, because there were fish swimming around inside the bong, and Ellis probably couldn’t drown inside the bong unless she was really trying. Instead, GBJ lights the bong and patiently waits for his turn.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Alright. Clear!
Inhale. Pause. Exhale. Ellis smiles for the second time in two minutes, a sure sign of the impending apocalypse.
Ellis Nash: Thanks for this, Garbage Fag. I'm so *totally* nervous about Seymour Almasy tonight, except I don't know who he is. Do you know who he is?
Garbage Bag Johnny shuffles nervously as he trades Ellis the lighter for the position atop the couch.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Seymour Almasy? The name doesn’t ring a bell. My cousin’s baby’s mama had a cat named Seymour once. He’s dead, though.
Ellis Nash: Cats are stupid. Hurry up, I hear they're running out of Reisens at the food table thingy.
Garbage Bag Johnny: I saved some of that giant paella from when we were in Spain. I’ve got three mason jars full of paella in my gym bag.
GBJ perches on the couch arm as Ellis prepares to light the gigantic slider. Unfortunately, GBJ does not have the grace and balance of Miss Nash, and he starts to slip off of the couch, until he’s holding onto the gigantic bong shaft for support. Losing his footing, Garbage Bag Johnny tries to catch himself by wrapping his legs around the bong shaft. The bong begins to teeter, and what happens next isn’t too tough to figure out. The large bong lies cracked as GBJ recovers on the ground. There are pieces of glass and flopping fish all over the floor as the bong water floods to a small pool right underneath the two time smiling Ellis Nash.
Garbage Bag Johnny: My dirty!
Ellis Nash: MY SHOES! MY… I… GET OUT!
Ellis stomps a foot.
Ellis Nash: NOW!
Garbage Bag senses the urgency in Ellis Nash’s tone and mannerisms. In a frenzy, he grabs as many fish as he can, stuffing them into his pockets.
Garbage Bag Johnny: Don’t worry, guys. I’ll get you in some water post haste!
Garbage Bag Johnny runs out of the locker room with his collection of fish, presumably headed towards somewhere with a container and a sink as Ellis stands there fuming in disbelief.
Josh Marquez
v s
Jonny Kae
v s
Scott Taylor
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : TRY YOUR LUCK
R E F E R E E : JOSEPH REID
A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE
The strip – bright lights; radiant; pinks, blues. The endless rush of traffic, brake lights and growling engines. Las Vegas is bigger, brighter and better by night, the dark sky an irrelevance against the pushy foreground of hotel frontages.
We switch shot to the outside of the Tropicana, its blue-green neon blaring the hotel-casino’s name into our TV sets. The milling throng rapidly disperses, and three big figures appear in the entrance to the lobby: Taz Yorke, Bruno Hague and Butch Radder. AWC security.
If you’re not in… you’re not coming in.
If you’re in… you’re staying.
The sound of approaching vehicles, and then they all pull up from their respective directions: three black saloons, each emblazoned with the silver Drakewerx emblem on the front doors. Out of each steps a contestant:
Josh Marquez.
Jonny Kae.
Scott Taylor.
George Cassidy: It’s time for the Try Your Luck match… don’t try anything with these guys taking over the Tropicana Hotel!
Truth Waters: What are you Cassidy, some kind of pussy?
George Cassidy: Actually, I’m a poorly portrayed, generally asinine heel commentator.
Truth Waters: At least you’re not supposed to talk like a black man.
Marquez looks disdainfully at the door security and strides past them straight into the casino. Kae and Taylor don’t even get a look – but they make up for that with the intense glare that passes between the two highly-rated wrestlers.
George Cassidy: Isn’t Scott Taylor supposed to be in jail for drink-driving?
Truth Waters: Oh sure, he got bailed or something. Yes, Taylor was arrested earlier in the week for driving with an alcohol level twice the legal limit in Arizona, and picked up a big-ass fine from Kasidy Drake too. It won’t help his prospects in AWC either.
George Cassidy: I thought AWC positively encouraged criminal activity…
Kae saunters up to the door and passes off his coat to Taz Yorke – or at least tries to; Yorke stops the former HSWer with his metal hook of a hand and firmly forces the garment back onto him. Jonny Kae raises his eyebrows and mutters something before snatches the coat back and storming through the entrance.
Truth Waters: Jonny Kae has a bit of an attitude problem.
George Cassidy: Taz Yorke was just
rude is all!
Truth Waters: He’s AWC security, not some kind of errand boy.
That leaves just Scott Taylor, who steps out in front of a fat red-shirted man to move into the lobby.
Our cameras switch to the slots floor, where the latest in touch-screen technology and, according to the brochure, some of Vegas’ loosest slots make for a pretty busy evening. The ringing and beeping and humming and laughing and shouting and joking and crying is rendered insignificant by James Brunt’s voice; Brunt, speaking in the Mandalay Bay Events Center but having his voice projected into the casino part of the Margarita at deafening volume, introduces the match.
James Brunt: Margarita Hotel and Casino… say hello to the Atlantic Wrestling Club!
A lot of people actually clap and cheer and shout “hello”. Our viewpoint, however, focuses rather too closely on a geriatric punter who yawns, flicks his hearing aid off and turns back to the “Island Gods” slots.
James Brunt: The following is the Try Your Luck match, in which all weaponry is legal!
More cheers, though a few couples are turning to each other and frowning.
Weaponry? What is this, a
fight?
George Cassidy: Ooh yeah…
James Brunt: Introducing first…
The house lights shut off throughout the casino. With all the machines still lit up, there is nothing like a blanket of darkness, but the effect is still startling, with some new red lights focusing on the now cleared main doorway into the room, and more gamers begin to turn from their machines for just a few seconds.
James Brunt: From London, England, weighing in at 268 pounds… JONNY KAE!
A group of high-flyers from London nod and applaud as Kae marches into the room, but the reaction of most AWC fans is negative.
George Cassidy: That is how these people treat The Most Perfectly Attuned Body In Professional Wrestling?
Truth Waters: Look at that ass of a scowl across his face, Cassidy.
George Cassidy: It’s not about friendly faces! It’s about ability!
Kae rolls his eyes, which only serves to turn off many of the gamblers who have only heard of the Atlantic Wrestling Club in passing. Some strong booing begins to be heard; James Brunt swiftly moves on as Kae joins him and referee Joseph Reid in a small space that has been cleared in the vague centre of the room.
James Brunt: And his opponent, from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, weighing in at 220 pounds… “The New Hero”, SCOTT TAYLOR!
Two contrasting chants immediately break out as the well-known Taylor steps energetically into the casino area. One is the classic
”O-S-W! O-S-W!” from your die-hard Meischker marks; the other, a rather more offensive
”SCOTTY 2 HOTTY! SCOTTY 2 HOTTY!”. Taylor shrugs off the mixed reaction and instead focuses his attention on returning Jonny Kae’s sour stare.
Truth Waters: There’s definitely a lot going on between Scott Taylor and Jonny Kae…
George Cassidy: He speaks the Truth.
James Brunt: And finally…
Brunt can’t even continue, so loud is the sudden release of jubilation from the fans. Josh Marquez is a man who is
all about Las Vegas, and the people here to see him recognise that very well indeed.
Truth Waters: Well damn! It’s like Marquez actually has fans!
George Cassidy: The Full House off of the top of the
Jewel of the Seas may have been thousands of miles from here but it made this man a hometown icon.
James Brunt: From this very city…
”VE-GAS! VE-GAS!”
James Brunt: Weighing in at 212 pounds… JOSH MARQUEZ!
Marquez bursts through the door and doesn’t lose a stride in tearing towards his opponents, knocking Taylor down.
Truth Waters: Lunging forearm takes out Scott Taylor and it’s on!
The wrestling fans crowd round to watch at close quarters; many others turn back to their machines, or leave for the tables. The real action, though, is quite clearly here, as Marquez goes to grapple with Kae who swings him around against the wall of the casino.
George Cassidy: Marquez thudding into the wall! And already the floor boys are looking twitchy!
Truth Waters: Oh, things are gonna escalate a hell of a lot m---
Marquez runs into Jonny Kae’s abdomen, spearing him against the side of a bank of slot machines!
George Cassidy: Spear! I think that made a dent in the fruit machine Truth!
Scott Taylor pulls Marquez into a hefty back suplex!
Truth Waters: Mr. OSW slams him right down! It’s pretty breathtaking stuff!
Taylor stiffens as he rises, hearing the boos from the Vegas crowd firmly behind Josh Marquez.
George Cassidy: With the fans a lot closer than in an arena Scott Taylor’s having to deal with a lot more abuse!
Keen to make amends, Taylor heads for Jonny Kae, pushing him back into the fruit machine and burying a fist in his abdomen. Kae grabs the arm and twists him around into a hammerlock, trying to combine it with a modified chokehold but The New Hero twists around and gets behind him before snapping a neat leap-back kick into Kae’s kidneys.
Truth Waters: Going for Jonny Kae; that’s one way to make yourself “The New Hero”.
TMPABiPW tumbles to the floor, rolling over and coming to a halt just inches from a stiletto heel.
Lady: What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?
Jonny Kae: Sorry, ma’am…
In his haste to get himself up from the floor to prevent further embarrassment, Jonny is completely oblivious to the advance of Josh Marquez, who lifts a knee into his gut to subdue Kae. With a devious grin on his face, and the fans on the same wavelength, Marquez angles himself towards the lady with the white stiletto heels, who has just turned away and begun her haughty walk off, and performs an Irish-whip.
George Cassidy: TIMBER!
Truth Waters: Oh man… I knew this’d go horribly wrong.
With Jonny Kae and an indignant rich lady in an uncomfortable heap on the floor, much to the fans’ delight, Scott Taylor smashes a stiff clothesline into Marquez’ jaw. The gambler himself is thrown back against a stool, and slips sideways into a slot machine – there is a loud clang, the tinkle of breaking glass, and a louder curse from the moustachioed Texan who’d been playing it. Scott Taylor picks up another stool and hurls it down at Marquez, who puts up a vague block with his arms but still takes some impact.
George Cassidy: Scott Taylor starting to get a little violent.
Taylor now reaches over and jabs at the flat screen of the EGM. “Hey!” is the protest from the player on whose credit The New Hero is freeloading; the man’s eyes boggle as the jackpot icons line up.
Truth Waters: Taylor’s hit the jackpot!
The cascade of coins comes into Taylor’s hands; the Texan taps him on the shoulders. The former OSW World champion turns around and shovels a load of coinage into his grateful hands.
George Cassidy: What?! He’s just giving it away? He won that!
Truth Waters: On the Texan man’s credit!
Fans begin to crowd in, reaching out their hands for a share of the winnings. “Over here, Scott!” pleads a twelve-year-old.
Truth Waters: Cassidy.
George Cassidy: Mhmm.
Truth Waters: Why is there a twelve-year-old kid in here.
George Cassidy: I don’t know.
Marquez grabs Taylor’s thighs; Scott cups the last load of coins in his hands and dumps the sea of metals on his opponent’s head. Both Marquez’ hands fly instinctively to his skull; his vulnerable position permits Scott Taylor to segue into an armbar takedown.
Truth Waters: Grinding Marquez’ head into the broken glass from the game machine!
George Cassidy: Come on Marq, this is supposed to be your home territory!
A reddened Jonny Kae now storms over, angry eyes on the downed Marquez.
Truth Waters: Kae’s got revenge in mind…
But Taylor leaps over Marquez to intercept Jonny Kae, backing him into an unfortunate white-suited Cuban who is just trying to play his machine and dropping into a monkey flip! Kae smashes into a row of slot machine screens, cracking one and hitting the floor next to Marquez with a jolt.
George Cassidy: The Tropicana’s going down!
Loud cheers come from the nearest fans, and Taylor can’t help but smile. At last, he’s winning them back over. Now, to put the cap on that…
George Cassidy: What is he
doing Truth?
Truth Waters: Climbing up on the machines, I’d say…
Taylor clambers up onto the lower ledge of the slot machine, facing out and away from the throng of people watching. Catching the eye of a buxom blonde, unimpressed in the distance, he launches himself backwards, flipping into a…
Truth Waters: MOONSAULT!
George Cassidy: Taylor takes them both out!
Truth Waters: BAH GAWD! The moonsault onto both Kae and Marquez from off of the slot machine!
Taylor now hooks Kae’s leg and Joseph Reid hurries over.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout by Jonny Kae.
George Cassidy: That’s right! Kickout!
Truth Waters: Oh, I thought he had him Cassidy!
Taylor lets out a sigh, and drags his rival Kae to his feet. Looking around, Mr. OSW gains a sudden inspiration and, holding the billionaire by his pristine blond hair, heads over to one of the open double-doors.
Truth Waters: They’re heading to the tables!
Taylor and Kae move straight through into the craps room, numerous suited gentlemen looking over with disdain, and the boxmen suddenly looking more alert. Kae throws a punch into Taylor’s abdomen; Taylor winces and tightens his grip on Kae’s hair, and scores a forearm thrust across the head, knocking TMPABiPW to the floor.
George Cassidy: Hair-pulling is for girls.
Truth Waters: Kae deserves it. I’d rip that asshole’s scalp off if I---
George Cassidy: Truth! You’re meant to be the nice guy!
Taylor sidles over to the first craps table.
Scott Taylor: Fire bet.
There is an audible sigh. The boxman gives him an icy glare.
Boxman: We don’t do that here, fag.
Scott Taylor: You called me a what, now?!
Taylor lunges across the table and grabs the boxman by the collar. The stickman’s eyes widen and there are a few gasps from the players, most of whom head hastily away. Dice fly everywhere as Taylor scrambles across the table and lands on the other side before throwing a right hand!
Truth Waters: Taylor’s short fuse gets the better off him!
As this is happening, Josh Marquez rushes into the room and, as Jonny Kae rises to his feet, barges in at the adjacent table and takes the dice from the shooter; throws the dice. Two ones. He gives Kae a look of regret.
Josh Marquez: Sorry Jonny. Snake eyes.
He forms a V-sign with his forefingers and jabs them into Kae’s eyes. Kae lets out a howl of pain and doubles up, hands over his face.
George Cassidy: SNAKE EYES! Hahaha!
Truth Waters: Eye gouging surely illegal in this environment?
George Cassidy: Weapons are legal so I guess anything goes…
Marquez grabs the stick from the table attendant and cracks it over Kae’s back!
George Cassidy: Shot to the spine!
Truth Waters: Stickman won’t be happy! That’s what they use to reel the dice back in.
George Cassidy: That’s pretty self-explanatory Truth…
Truth Waters: Here’s Taylor!
Taylor comes flying off the first table with a diving clothesline. Marquez is knocked back into the table, across which he tumbles.
Man: Hey, we’re tryin’a play some craps here!
Kae jogs over to the roulette wheel a couple of tables down, just as it begins to spin and rattle. Planting his hand into the whirling wheel, he grabs the ball-bearing and hurls it at Taylor, who is getting back up as the small silver ball hits him centre-forehead.
George Cassidy: That’s good accuracy! He should be pitching for the 51s!
Truth Waters: I think you’d have to be the world’s biggest pussy to go down to a roulette ball to the forehead.
It does agitate Taylor, though; he sprints over to Jonny Kae, but is cut off by a thrusting forearm to the gut. The New Hero is winded. Kae steps sideways and grabs him around the belly…
George Cassidy: Oh the Kae Bomb is coming!
Taylor holds his ground, though, resisting Kae’s gut-wrench attempts. He shoots his left elbow up, catching Kae low in his mid-section.
George Cassidy: Come on, Jonny! Kae Bomb!
Kae clings on to his gut-wrench position, but the shot has clearly weakened his resolve and a further upward strike by Taylor causes him to stumble backwards… right into a fireman’s carry by Josh Marquez!
Truth Waters: Where did he come from?!
Scott Taylor turns and spins the roulette wheel as a new ball bearing is thrown in…
33.
BLAM.George Cassidy: Man oh man! Shouldn’t’ve bet on red!
What happened was that Jonny Kae reversed Marquez’ Bet On Red attempt into a falling sideways DDT, and Marquez is kind of out of it. Kae gets to his feet in a cloud of chips that Taylor has just propelled in his direction; blinded by the sheer number of chips clattering into him, Kae is powerless against The New Hero’s spinning heel kick!
Truth Waters: That’s the take-out!
Taylor pins Josh Marquez:
Truth Waters: Oh and this one’s over!
ONE!
George Cassidy: No! Jonny, get up!
TWO!
George Cassidy: Get up, damn it!
THREE!
James Brunt: The winner… SCOTT TAYLOR!
Truth Waters: A second win for Scott Taylor and Josh Marquez is beaten in his hometown!
The boos start to ring out as Taylor gets to his feet, jubilant, sweeping his long black hair into shape.
George Cassidy: And just as he was starting to get people to like him he pins the hometown hero… poor thing.
Truth Waters: Scott Taylor is starting to make his mark on AWC! Can he increase that impact at Triangles?
Moving The Goalposts
A U T H O R : PIERRE HYDE
Mike Wade: A quick word from the commissioner before we continue…
Wade, speaking directly into the camera from his desk, looks tired/ill. The beating he took seven days ago at the hands of LeVar Kintu clearly didn’t agree with him.
Mike Wade: A hobo turned up at my office today, with word that he’d heard from a truck driver, who heard it from a barman, who heard it from a woodcutter, who heard it from a fisherman. It’s word from Blue Ruin, and he says that he’s not coming back. I know, I know – a moment of silence. (half-second pause) But he
also says that he’s finally decided which triangle Darcy Crisis and Scott Taylor should go into at Triangles. He thought long and hard about it and eventually settled on the colour that sounds most like his name. So, blue it is – which means not only do Crisis and Taylor join Pierce Lavelle in blue, but AgentDash and Josh Marquez are in green with Ellis Nash! But remember…
Wade grins.
Mike Wade: The Relentless Frontier Gauntlet winner still gets to choose someone to replace, the lucky fecker.
He pauses.
Mike Wade: Oh yeah, and I thought of one more rule to make the golden triangle a bit more exciting. Last year when a pin was made in one of the triangles, that triangle, like, died, and the losers just left. But this year it’s not gonna be like that… after a one-minute gap, they will be eligible to pin again, and so get a pass to the golden triangle. So if Garbage Bag pins Seymour Almasy, after one minute if the other triangles are still going and so there are prizes left, Almasy can pin Johnny Lexicon and go for one himself.
Mike Wade: Oh… and last of all but definitely not least… once there has been a successful pin in each triangle… after a one minute gap
all the doors will be opened so everyone will be able to get into the golden triangle and go for a prize.
Mike Wade: That’s all, ye feckers… see you in LA in ten days!
Pierce Lavelle
v s
The Coalition
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : HANDICAP
R E F E R E E : LARS LARSSON
A U T H O R : LARA C.
George Cassidy: We’re set to begin our next match of the night.
Truth Waters:This’ll be interesting. We’ve got Lavelle being pitted against two men in a handicap.
George Cassidy: Completely unfair. Mike Wade is throwing his weight around.
Truth Waters: All of these men are quite talented sportsmen.
The commentator’s voice's becoming immersed in the booming bass of “Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor flutters through the speakers as a video reel begins playing. The fans cheer and chant with thunderous claps to the music accompaniment.
George Cassidy: If there’s one thing the Coalition lack, its taste in music.
Truth Waters: *bobbing around* It’s quite a catchy tune!
As the lyrics roar, Wesley Reno and Phil Allen emerge on stage dressed predominantly in their matching tag-team ring attire and holding their belts proudly as they strut their stuff to the arena.
James Brunt: Make their way to ring, they’re the Alliance Champions, THE COALITION.
Banners flutter in the crowd as Reno smiles and follows Allen who is making a quick dash before sliding into the ring and receiving an almighty cheer as he raises his title. Reno soon follows and the cheers begin to drown out the musical background.
Truth Waters: Quite an ovation for the Coalition.
“Eye of the tiger” soon fades as the arena falls silent, a deathly bang erupts on the staging area as pyro’s shoot up. “Happy” by Mudvayne lingers over the stage as the roaring lyrics belt through the ears of the listeners.
James Brunt: And their opponent, from Harrisburg Pennsylvania, PIERCE LAVELLE.
Lavelle emerges from the crowd dressed in his ring attire and immediately soaks up the jeering and boos he’s receiving from the crowd with a beaming cocky smile as he walks calmly to the ring.
George Cassidy: Now that’s a reaction!
Truth Waters: He’s being booed, George.
George Cassidy: That’ll change.
Truth Waters: Yeah, when he leaves Pearl’s power-trip.
Lavelle slides into the ring, eyeing up his opponents before taunting the crowd and turning to referee Lars Larsson who holds a displeased look on his face, becoming tired of the Empire reign.
Allen steps forward, extending a hand out of courtesy and Lavelle smugly takes and drives his other hand toward Allen’s jaw with a swift uppercut. Allen stumbles backward and shakes off the cobwebs. Reno is put to the turnbuckle on the outside by the instruction of Larsson as the bell rings.
George Cassidy: Quick shot from Lavelle to start things off.
Truth Waters: Allen’s attempt at sportsmanship rejected as Lavelle goes on the offensive.
Allen and Lavelle tie-up, Allen proving the more dominant as he begins pushing Lavelle toward the turnbuckle when Reno grips Lavelle’s arms, holding Lavelle down whilst Allen delivers the one-two punch to Lavelle’s rib cage.
George Cassidy: Hey REF! Wake up! Illegal hold…
Truth Waters: Reno’s on the outside, obeying the tag match rules.
Stood in a boxing stance, Allen begins to work with quick jabs to Lavelle. Struggling free of Reno’s grasp Lavelle charges Allen connecting with a driving spear, sending Allen’s back into the opposite turnbuckle. Straightening up, Lavelle slaps Allen across the face and a cacophony of boos channels through the stadium like a Mexican wave.
George Cassidy: Lavelle just sent Allen flying with an Irish whip.
Allen bounces off the ropes and connects with Lavelle who attempts a belly-to-belly, Allen reverses with a rake to the eye and swivels his footing sending Lavelle over his shoulder with a hip toss throw. Lavelle connects with the mat and rolls back up to a fighting position. Allen shakes a little, tensing himself up.
Truth Waters: Lavelle now taunting Phil Allen.
Allen smiles and runs towards Lavelle, ducking Lavelle’s clothesline attempt, Allen counters with a swinging neck breaker and goes for the pin.
Truth Waters: First pin of the night.
ONE!
TW-!
Lavelle kicks-out before Larsson can get the two, sending Allen tumbling off of him as he raises himself off the mat with aid of the ropes. Allen moves towards Reno and tags in his partner, fans begin a “RENO” chant.
George Cassidy: Allen tags in Reno to take a small break.
Lavelle looks toward Reno and wipes the small trickle of sweat from his brow line as he keeps a focus on the politician. Reno goes for a grapple but Lavelle side steps sending an elbow into the side of Reno’s head, dazing him. Lavelle grapples his waist and hoists Reno up with a german suplex, but it doesn’t work.
Reno’s wrapped his leg around the inside of Lavelle’s and begins to toss his elbows into Lavelle’s head, eventually causing Lavelle to release the hold, Reno shoots around with a swinging high kick that connects with Lavelle’s face sending him over the ropes. The fans cheer.
George Cassidy: Where the hell did that come from?
Truth Waters: Roundhouse kick from Reno.
Lavelle collides with the commentators table and stands up, shaking his head and smirking toward Reno. Lavelle moves toward the ring and slides in. The two link up and Lavelle swings his knee into Reno’s groin just as Larsson turns his back. Allen calls for the bell, but Larsson saw nothing. Reno’s eyes swell as he keels over and Lavelle shoots off the ropes sending Reno backwards with a devastating clothesline from hell.
He goes for the pin.
ONE!
TW-!
Reno shoots his shoulder off the mat causing Larsson to break the count. Lavelle sits up, kneeling next to Reno and looks towards Allen stood with a smile along his face.
Truth Waters: Reno kicks out after a powerful clothesline.
Lavelle turns to Allen, now standing, and begins to taunt the Alliance champion. Reno stealthily moves up behind Lavelle and with extreme speed, grapples Lavelle’s waist and hoists him into the air connecting with a northern lights suplex to pin.
Lavelle rolls around and is now grappling Reno’s waist as he hoists Reno up and delivers a sharp german suplex, he rolls again and goes for a second but Allen delivers a boot to Lavelle’s face and soon slides back to the outside.
Reno, a little dazzled from the high impact move, crawls toward Allen and makes the tag. Allen enters the ring once more to finish off the work. Larsson warns Allen that if attempts another move like that, he’ll be out. Allen shakes it off and grips Lavelle by his briefs and hoists him up delivering a shot to his abdomen, weakening Lavelle, slowly but surely.
George Cassidy: Mike Wade’s probably enjoying this right now.
Truth Waters: Lavelle’s standing his ground, he’s not making it easy for the alliance champions.
Lavelle wobbles a bit after receiving ten consecutive punches from Allen. He stumbles back into the turnbuckle and tries to shake off the pain as he stares toward a blurry Phil Allen. Allen rushes and raises his leg, Lavelle ducks at the last moment and Allen’s leg shoots over the turnbuckle. Lavelle rises and places one arm under Allen’s raised leg, he grabs Allen’s waist with his other and raises Allen into an uncomfortable powerbomb and drops him high and dry.
Truth Waters: A counter from Lavelle.
Lavelle goes for the pin, Larsson makes the reluctant quick count.
ONE!
TWO!
Allen shoots his shoulder off the ground and quickly tends to his thigh muscle complaining of pain. Larsson moves Lavelle back and asks Allen if he wants to continue, Allen shrugs off the pain and delivers a thumb to the eye on Lavelle.
George Cassidy: Cheap shot Ref!
Larsson ignores the thumb to the eye. Allen stands up and delivers a kick to Lavelle’s gut and unleashes a fast DDT. Lavelle collides with the mat and Allen takes a breather before limping over to Reno and making the tag once more.
Reno’s now inside the ring and Lavelle’s risen from the quick DDT he received. Reno charges and in the last second Lavelle counters with a boot to the stomach, winding Reno instantly. Reno bites on nothing but air as he gasps.
Truth Waters: Reno and Lavelle squaring off.
Reno swings Lavelle around with an attempt at a counter, but Lavelle takes control of the situation and flattens Reno with an Irish whip into Pancake. Lavelle goes for the pin.
ONE!
Phil Allen: SHAKE IT OFF!!!
Allen yells over the fans boos as Larsson continues the quick count.
TWO!
On the two count, Reno shakes Lavelle off and stops the count. Lavelle’s becoming lethargic, finding the constant facing of two men tiring. He wobbles a little and stands up to the booing and jarring of fans who chant a “LAVELLE SUCKS”.
Lavelle sees Allen attempting to enter the ring and charges hitting the man square in the jaw with his knee. Allen fumbles and collapses to the outside. As Lavelle turns around Reno shoots him with a The Quota (Shoulder block to the abdomen) and soon follows it up with the Reno Readjust (Fisherman suplex to pin).
Lavelle’s body twists in midair and collides in a less comfortable position with the mat. Reno turns around and spreads across Lavelle’s midsection, pinning his shoulders to the mat as Larsson makes a slow count.
Truth Waters: The Reno Readjust…This could be it.
George Cassidy: Lavelle’s too good to go out this easily. He’s proving that tonight.
Truth Waters: And he’s made a valiant effort.
ONE!
TWO!
The fans begin another “RENO” chant, but Lavelle kicks out. The fans becoming engrossed in the match at hand, pure athleticism from all three men. Allen soon slides into the ring, having thought up a plan of action and mounts the ring apron.
Reno moves toward Reno and tags his partner into the ring. The two move toward the rising Lavelle. Allen whispers in Reno’s ear, causing his partner to smile. The two begin to stalk their prey – Lavelle.
George Cassidy: Allen and Reno going for the sneak attack.
Lavelle turns around and before he has time to react, Allen has sized him up for a face plant – The Phil Allen Face Plant. With Lavelle flat out on the mat, Reno finishes it off with the Political View. Reno slides waits patiently as Allen goes for the pin.
Truth Waters: The Political View…This could all be over.
ONE!
TWO!
THR-!
Lavelle kicks out just on the last second. The arena sigh as Allen looks perplexed toward the referee. Reno begins pacing as Allen rises, almost looking as though he’s about to pull his hair out.
George Cassidy: Kick out from Lavelle. He’s still in this.
Truth Waters: It would seem as though Wade’s plan is failing.
Lavelle rises in a groggy state and watches from the corner of his eye as Reno is now stood at the turnbuckle. Allen begins to circle Lavelle, weighing up his options and grabs the back of Lavelle’s head. Lavelle turns with efficient precision, turns Allen around and delivers a Sleeper Slam.
With Allen down, Lavelle runs off the ropes and jettisons his body at Reno with a Pancha (flying cross body). The two collide to the outside. Lavelle quickly jumps into action, running on pure adrenalin grips Reno by the back of his neck and drives his face into the ring steps, blood spew out of his nose as he recoils in pain. Lavelle waists, his eyes murky and clouded.
Truth Waters: Lavelle on the offensive.
Reno moves up, crawling toward the commentators table. Lavelle grabs him and helps him step whipping him into the ring apron. Reno howls as his spin connects with the metal reinforcement. He stumbles forward, bent over as he takes deep breaths. Lavelle grabs Reno turns him and hits him with the Flapjack Slam straight through the commentators table.
George Cassidy: Holy Cow! My ESTELLE mug is broken!
Truth Waters: Flapjack through our table, Lavelle ruthless now in his approach.
Lavelle rises as Larsson yells toward him, he shakes off the issuing orders and slides into the rind. Stood in a predator manner, Lavelle watches Allen rise, back turned to Lavelle as he gets up from the sleeper slam.
George Cassidy: Lavelle is wasting time…
As soon as Allen turns around Lavelle delivers a rake to the eye, Blackout, Allen bends over and Lavelle hoists him into the air with a powerbomb. Now raised on his shoulders, Lavelle charges toward the turnbuckle, hurling Allen at the last minute for the Whiplash. Allen crumbles to the mat, not moving.
Truth Waters: Whiplash from Lavelle!! Incredible!
Lavelle goes for the pin, the sound of the fans booing drowns out Larsson count.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!
The bell rings and Lavelle stands up with a smug grin across his lips.
George Cassidy: So much for Wade’s revenge tactic. Lavelle just took out the Coalition, two on one!
Truth Waters: A great start for Lavelle’s entrance to Triangles. He’s on a role.
James Brunt: Here is your winner…PIERCE LAVELLE.
“Happy” by Mudvayne roars once more through the speakers, surrounding the boos and making them barely audible to Lavelle as he stands proudly in the ring before flipping over the top rope and heading up the stage.
Les Ferdinand HATES Interruptions!
A U T H O R : ANDY
We cut to the locker room of the Scottish King of Cool, Andy Murray, in somewhat bizarre circumstances. As Poison’s “Nothin’ But A Good Time” blares out of a nearby CD player, Murrr stands with his back to the camera, placing a small black & white football down on the floor. He turns to face the camera, taking a few steps back from the ball, and we see that Murray is wearing an old-school Newcastle United football shirt, circa 95-96, with Ferdinand – 9 printed on the back. Across the room from Andy Grobschnit stands between two crudely erected goalposts; he looks prone and ready to pounce. He also wears an old football shirt, this time a particularly hideous bright green Manchester United goalkeeper’s jersey.
Andy Murray: This is it ladies and gentlemen… if Les Ferdinand sticks this penalty in, it’s all over!
Grobschnit: Brrringe itt, bitsch!
After taking a deep breath Murray oddly clasps his hands together and bows towards Grobber, as if the two of them were about to initiate a karate fight. However, a few seconds later Andy leaps forward, blasting the football in Grobschnit’s direction. It’s not a particularly good kick, but it ricochets off of the notorious ‘S-C-H-N-I-T’s foot and goes beyond him all the same!
Andy Murray: YAAAAAS! It’s over! The FA Cup is coming to Tyneside! Sir Les has done it!
Suddenly Andy’s jubilance is interrupted, as the CD player cuts out. An angered expression fills Murrr’s face…
Andy Murray: Oh man, who the hell cut off the Poison?!?!
Murray turns around towards the door in a flash, looking for the felon who committed this dirty deed, only to see the hand of Captain Suleimon slowly retracting from the stereo.
Andy Murray: Oh Moses! Not you again!?! Tell me Killjoy, why in the name of Chuck Norris did you cut off the Poison, hmmmm!?!
The Captain shakes his head, as unimpressed with Andy’s conduct as he was last week.
Captain Suleimon: Cut the crap Murray, I’ve got a few questions to ask you…
Andy Murray: Forget it, Rubbishface! I’m not answering any of your stupid questions until you give me a good enough reason to come in here, pause Poison, and ruin the Andy Murray/Grobschnit penalty shootout extravaganza!
Captain Suleimon: You call that ear-offending muck music?
Andy raises an eyebrow, but Suleimon continues before the Scottish King of Cool can retaliate.
Captain Suleimon: Anyway, onto the burning issue… what happened with AgentDash and the balaclava-wearing man last week, the trashing of the dressing room, the attempted assault… I mean, it’s got me thinking, who would do such a thing? And then I remembered, there’s freaks like you running around here, if you catch my drift.
Andy Murray: Whoa whoa whoa! Slow down there, Nigel! Are you implying that I had something to do with Dash getting stalked like a motherfucker?
Captain Suleimon: Well done, genius…
At this Andy scoffed.
Andy Murray: Pffft! What the HELL have you been smoking!?! That’s ridiculous! Why in the name of Gareth would I, Andy Murray, the Scottish King of Cool, hero to millions and all-round lovely geezer, attempt to assault a fellow competitor! I don’t do that, man, you’re barking up the wrong tree!
Andy chuckled, gently grabbing Suleimon on the shoulder. Suleimon, however, failed to see the funny side, and immediately swiped Andy’s hand away from his person.
Captain Suleimon: Get your grubby little Celtic hand away from me…
The Scottish King of Cool screwed up his face.
Andy Murray: Alright dude, seriously, what’s the problem? You came in here last week to try and piss me off, and here you are again, attempting the very same feat! I don’t get it man! You are getting a little bit irritating though, so if you would kindly remove yourself from my locker-room and crawl back under whatever rock you emerged from, that would be much appreciated!
Suleimon shook his head and sighed.
Captain Suleimon: You know Murray, looking back on it, I’m partly glad that I didn’t win last week, at least now the public wont have to put up with your dumb self at Triangles.
Andy Murray: Is that was this is about? Triangles? Dude, get it through your thick skull, I don’t care that you lost; it’s not a big deal to the Scottish King of Cool! Sure, it would have been nice to have that opportunity, but you lost fair and square, so I’m not gonna lose any sleep over it. Heh, guess I should just think a little longer about who I want to back in future…
This uncharacteristic swipe from Murray seems to take Suleimon aback.
Captain Suleimon: Save it Murray, I don’t want to hear it. Anyway, that’s pretty rich coming from a so-called AWC “veteran” who only JUST beat a total AWC newcomer in his first match back. You can’t cut it anymore, you’re done Andy, and you’re old news. Even, by some ungodly fluke, you had managed to defeat me and make it through to Triangles you would have been knocked straight out in the first round.
Andy rolls his eyes, annoyed by the persistence of his new-found nemesis.
Andy Murray: Yeah, and how many times have I heard that before? Nigel, you really need to get some lines, those ones are running hella thin… but you know what, seeing as you are seemingly so confident in your own ability, and seeing as you’ve conned yourself into believing that the Scottish King of Cool is a spent force, how about you put your money where your mouth is?
Captain Suleimon: What exactly are you proposing?
Andy Murray: The Sultan of Smackdown vs. the Scottish King of Cool at Triangles, Sherlock! Seeing as you’re so intent on following me around week after week, we might as well make a match of it!
A smile draws itself across the lips of Suleimon.
Captain Suleimon: Oh Murray, your stupidity never ceases to amaze me! Count me in! See you at Triangles…
Suleimon turns away, chuckling to himself, with Andy Murray watching on.
Andy Murray: Yuck! What a loser…
Seymour Almasy (free agent)
v s
Ellis Nash
C H A M P I O N S H I P : NONE
S T I P U L A T I O N : SINGLES - TRIANGLES PREVIEW
R E F E R E E : MICHAEL RYAN
A U T H O R : TRENT
Truth Waters: Time for our main event! It's been an eventful night here on Fresh!, but we might be in for a treat with the next encounter.
George Cassidy: Almasy should be grateful, really. He's been trying to steal her hair! Those precious, shiny, immaculate locks! In the words of Nash herself, WTF?!
Truth Waters: Seymour Almasy is certainly an interesting character, but he adds a dimension to AWC currently that ... well ... I guess we'll see.
“Oblivion” by Aimee Allen hits the PA. The fans recognize it immediately and give an undecided reaction as Ellis Nash reveals herself on the stage from behind the curtain. She moves towards the ring in a pompous strut (prepare to see that phrase
a lot), sneering at the little boys who reach out for her. All they want is to get a literal feel of the beautiful woman, but that doesn't seem to be on the agenda. Nash reaches the ring and ascends the steps.
James Brunt: Introducing first, from Cortland, New York, weighing in at 126 pounds ... Ellis Nash!
Truth Waters: Many are touting Ellis Nash as a prime contender for the Transatlantic title come Triangles time, and she's been on quite the roll as of late. She looks to continue it and head into Triangles at full speed.
George Cassidy: I like her odds, and in more ways than one! Seriously ... look at those beautifully proportioned-
Truth Waters: Enough, Cass! This is G-Rated!
George Cassidy: I actually think it's PG ... and in that case ...
'Otherworld' by Nobuo Uematsu interrupts him. Only Seymour Almasy could have a fucking weird theme song like that, and sure enough steps out from behind the curtain. An undecided reaction greets him – this is a match of neutral wrestlers, folks. AND DON'T BLAME ME IF YOU HAVEN'T UPDATED YOUR BIO. The Final Fantasy walks slowly down the ramp to the ring, eying up his opposition whose hair he's been after since his debut Fresh!. He slides into the ring and opts for the corner, where he focuses on Ellis.
James Brunt: And her opponent, currently being billed from the Sector 5 Slums of Midgar ... weighing in at 183 pounds ... Seymour Almasy!
Truth Waters: While the former Universal champ has the weight advantage in this one, these competitors are equal in height which should make for a goo match.
George Cassidy: So here we go, elf-boy squaring off against a sexy beeotch. Chyea.
Truth Waters: This is a quite competitive main event against two of the favorites going in to Triangles.
Nash circles Almasy with a pompous strut; the Final Fantasy walks more readily for an attack or defense, but neither wrestler is making any sudden movement. Finally, Almasy makes an agile bound for the ropes behind him and comes rebounding off at top-speed towards ellisrock~!, who is ready for action. Almasy leap frogs Nash and keeps up his speed into the next set of cables. His opponent turns around in expectation that the guest star would be returning. Almasy uses time delay to his advantage by using both arms to halt himself with the top- rope. In a moment of confusion, Ellis is left as an easy target which Almasy takes advantage of by running towards her, cluching the front of her head and slamming the back of it into the canvas.
Truth Waters: Nice move from Almasy there, let's see if the Final Fantasy can gain some more momentum in this speedy contest.
Almasy is to his feet, quick like a hare and runs for the ring cables, which he springs off of in a backwards flip for the Moonsault.
KNEES!
Nash gets to her feet as Almasy rolls away, clutching his stomach. She approaches him quickly and grabs both of his legs. Slingshot! Almasy's torso crashes into the turnbuckle and he stumbles out of the corner, ready to face-plant on the canvas. His female opposition grabs him and uses his momentum to wrap him up in a small package.
ONE!
Kickout!
Truth Waters: Nash with an early one and a half count. She's stepping up to the challenge against the PTC poster-boy.
George Cassidy: Of course she is! She's a gorgeous, talented woman and she's battling a cross between an elf and a dwarf.
Ellis is quick to her feet but Almasy has scampered towards the ropes and is using the ropes to get to his feet. Seizing the opportunity, Nash charges in his direction and tries to land her crotch on the back of Almasy's head to choke him against the rope. Almasy notices at the last second and gets out of the way; Nash crotches herself on the second rope. Not like it matters anyway, and even if she were a man, she would have solid-steel REGIONS~! Anyway, she untangles herself from the cables and the Final Fantasy is nowhere to be seen in her peripheral vision. This is because he is perched on the top turnbuckle that faces Nash's back.
George Cassidy: Look out, Ellis!
Top Rope Bulldog!
Truth Waters: Oooh ... Final Fantasy slammed her face into the mat there.
Almasy flips her over quickly. Cover.
ONE!
TWO!
Nash gets her shoulder up right after the two-count – she doesn't have time for halves or quarters. Almasy drags her up with fistful of hair. Kick to the gut. Nash doubles over as Almasy heads for the closest ring cables. He comes back and attempts a Sunset Flip on ER~!, who stands her ground as the grounded Almasy tries to pull her down. Nash drops to her ass right on his chest for another pin.
Truth Waters: Reversal by Nash!
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout. Nash gets to her feet and goes wild with two stiff kicks to Almasy's chest. She follows by laying into his right knee with couple of stomps.
George Cassidy: Nash doing what she does best, baby!
Truth Waters: Looks like she's trying to weaken the knees of the spot monkey ...
Nash picks up Almasy by his girlish white hair and gives him a knee-strike to his mid-section. Ready to teeter over, Almasy is pushed into the corner by Nash, who struts towards him. Almasy is in a bad way, and Nash grabs a hold on the top ring cable with both hands to steady herself as she does consecutive high-kicks to the side of Almasy's head. She finishes the sequence by cramming her foot into his neck and choking him out. The referee does the routine four count and Nash releases.
Truth Waters: ellisrock~! is using her strike-first mentality here and it seems to be working well.
Nash grabs the Final Fantasy by the wrist and sends him across the ring. Seymour crashes into the turnbuckle as Nash charges towards him. She leaps towards him, her elbow targeting his head.
Truth Waters: Nobody home!
Indeed, Almasy has ducked out of his predicament and the side of Nash's torso hits the turnbuckle. She stumbles out into her opponent, who grabs her by the wrist and attempts a whip into the opposite turnbuckle. Nash reverses, and pulls Seymour towards her, and rises up clutching his head to attempt a Swinging DDT. Almasy holds his ground and manages to drive her into the turnbuckle. Nash keeps her grip on his head, though, and sits on the top turnbuckle. Tornado DDT!
George Cassidy: Put him DOWN!
Truth Waters: Beautiful execution there ... let's see if she can get a three count out of it ...
Nash covers Almasy. Michael Ryan down for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Almasy kicks out!
Truth Waters: Close!
Nash bitchslaps the Michael Ryan.
George Cassidy: Bitchslap, ftw!
Nash looks real bitchy now, and proves it by lifting Almasy from the canvas. The official is distracted now, and she soccer-kicks Almasy in the REGIONS~!.
Truth Waters: Sweet Jesus that must have hurt!
George Cassidy: This is why I love me some Ellis ... among other unsanctioned reasons.
The Final Fantasy clutches his balls and collapses to the canvas as Ellis flips him over and goes for another cover. Michael Ryan, although bitter from the bitchslap, has recovered and goes down for the count.
ONE!
TWO!
Kickout!
Truth Waters: Another kickout. Ellis Nash is really gunning for the victory here.
George Cassidy: She does have the
guns for it, Truth ...
Truth Waters: Isn't it about time she got a restraining order on you?
Nash mounts Almasy and delivers right-hand punches. She picks him up and launches him against the ropes, and readies for his return. Almasy comes back: Headscissors Takedown! Nash's momentum doesn't keep her down for long and both wrestlers are back up. Dropkick from Almasy that sends Nash to the canvas, but she isn't staying down. The Final Fantasy attempts a high-kick but Nash catches his foot. Enziguri! Almasy's foot rocks the side of Ellis's head and sends her down. Her opponent is on a roll now, but Nash refuses to stay down, and gets back to her feet. Almasy has retreated to the apron by now, and he springs up to the top-rope, launches off and hits her with a Hurracarana!
Truth Waters: Holy Hurracarana! Seymour Almasy finally picking up momentum here.
George Cassidy: Psshh ... he's a pussy.
Almasy is up and hops to the top rope. Flying leg drop. CONNECTS. Final Fantasy bounds on top of Nash and hooks her leg.
ONE!
TWO!
Not quite!
Almasy gets right back to work by picking up Nash. He grabs her by the wrist and attempts a whip. Nash reverses, and sends Almasy towards the ropes. He's close enough for his momentum to take him over the top rope and tumble to the outside.
Truth Waters: And it looks like things are going to move to the outside for a bit here ...
Almasy gets to his feet, and turns around to a pair of feet kicking into his face via a baseball-slide from ellisrock~!. He stumbles into the barrier, which he uses to hold himself up. Nash joins on the outside and runs toward him. She swings for a clothesline to send him over the barrier. Almasy ducks it and uses his shoulder to send her over the barrier and land on the concrete in a space between the fans.
Truth Waters: Ouch! Body-on-concrete .. not a very good combination.
George Cassidy: Cassidy-on-Nash ... a
very good situation.
Truth Waters: As Nash would say: Ew. Old.
Almasy hops over the barrier and pursues the fallen Nash. He picks her up and lays a knife-edge chop into her upper chest. He grabs her by the wrist and sends her back over the barrier to ringside, where she falls hard on her back. After a couple of stomps for good measure, Almasy picks Nash up and rolls her back in the ring.
Truth Waters: Almasy gaining momentum here, let's see if he can use it to his advantage.
The Final Fantasy hops on the apron. Ellis Nash is stirring, and slowly gets to her feet. Almasy jumps onto the top rope, springs off. He opens his legs and tries to land on Nash's shoulders, but she ducks out of it. Seymour lands hard on his ass, the crowd pops.
Truth Waters: Nice dodge from Nash, there ... she needs to capitalize.
Ellis Nash picks Almasy up from the canvas, and sends him with a whip against the ropes. He returns unexpectedly with a Spinning Heel Kick.
MISS.
Kick to gut.
DECREE.
George Cassidy: BOOM, HEAD SHOT!
Truth Waters: Holy crap, that came out of nowhere! Nash with the pin!
ONE!
TWO!
THREE
Truth Waters: And she did it!
George Cassidy: Told ya. And I have a “present” for her if she's willing to bite.
Truth Waters: I didn't see that coming, Cass ... and by that I not only mean the out-of-nowhere Decree, but that ludicrous comment.
James Brunt: The winner of this match ... Ellis Nash!
“Oblivion” by Aimee Allen hits.
Truth Waters: Ellis Nash with a big win here tonight, and she continues to steam-roll into what could be the biggest event of the year in Triangles.
George Cassidy: Wasn't Coast To Coast supposed to be that .. ?
Truth Waters: Well, it was damn good too ... but Christ, Cassidy ... look at the competitors in the themed main event! Orgasmic, I tell you!
George Cassidy: I'll show Nash orgasmic ...
Truth Waters: And folks, that's all we have for action tonight, and this is Truth Waters saying goodnight ....
and ... my partner is a sicko.
George Cassidy: Touche.
